Entwined Realms Volume One Page 13

  She didn’t object. Her gaze stayed locked with his and her hands stayed at her side. With a slow, deliberate movement, he pushed his hand into the fall of her hair, wrapping a thick strand around his fingers and wrist. His voice dropped, deepening as he spoke words meant for her. “I love your hair. The color of blood at its most fragrant and powerful.”

  The light tug on the strands didn’t hurt. Instead it sensitized her. The swirl of color in his eyes was myriad shades of red reflected and magnified. “You should let go now,” she said, low even tones that matched his own.

  The corner of that edible mouth lifted, baring a fang. “Never.” He pulled her closer, keeping to that edge of discomfort that never crossed into pain. “Stay by my side.”

  She ghosted her mouth across the air over his, one inch all the space that separated them, that he could feel the warm, moist puff of her breath a certainty. Her voice held a low, breathy undertone she had never heard come from her lips. “Never.”

  He gazed down at her through heavy-lidded eyes, the pull on her hair now a welcome pain that did nothing to break her away from him.

  Wulver’s voice came from behind her, tones that spoke of barely leashed violence. “Is there anything you wish to tell us about the zombie attack? If not, my people and I will take our leave.”

  Reign’s lips thinned, the muscle in the corner of his jaw betraying itself with a small tic. His hand clenched in her hair, his greedy gaze roamed her face once more, lingering over each square inch of her skin.

  Then he pulled back into himself, cloaking himself with decorum. He unwound her hair from his hand, sitting down on the couch. In moments the two women were back at his side. “I know nothing about the zombies. Good luck in finding their maker.”

  Fallon turned to step down from the platform, Reign’s voice following her. “You are welcome anytime, Fallon, but please do not invite your friends again.” Without stopping she walked toward the exit, the shift in air currents preceding Wulver and Laire as they followed her.

  Once they were in the car, Laire spoke. “That was productive.”

  “To be expected,” Fallon said. “We knew talking with him was a longshot at best.”

  Laire pursed her lips, studying Fallon with an intensity rare outside of a shoe sale. “Vampire boy is a little too touchy-feely with you, and you aren’t afraid of getting in his space. You sure you two never dated?”

  Leave it to Laire to start awkward conversations at completely the wrong time. “Are you serious?”

  Laire shrugged. “He may be the scourge of all the realms, but there is no denying undead boy is damn, damn fine.”

  “So you think ultimate evil necromancer is my type?”

  “I’d be really thrilled to find out you had a type. It’s not like I see you dating right now. Or ever.”

  “Why is everyone suddenly worried about my dating habits?”

  Thank the gods Wulver had the sense to interrupt this line of questioning. He directed a question to Fallon. “What information on the teacher?”

  “Tec hasn’t found any info that would suggest why she’s targeted. The only interesting pieces of trivia we found are she was born the day of the Great Collision, and big brother isn’t as finished with the military as his family thinks he is.”

  “What about fangwhipped?” Laire asked, bringing her hand in front of her mouth and using the first two fingers to mimic fangs.

  “Who are you, vampire bunny? And no. There is no sign of it.”

  “Laire,” interrupted Wulver. “What about her birth? If she was born around the time of the Collision, could that have affected her?”

  “I would normally say yes. There were large amounts of wild magic, and a new life would be very susceptible to any effects. But by twenty-six she would have manifested any magical abilities.”

  “I want you to keep researching that angle. It’s a long shot, but that’s a hell of a coincidence.” Wulver turned back to Fallon. “And Terak? Why is he so interested in her, and are we any closer to discovering how he and all the other races have gotten into the city?”

  “No and no. We have all of our own people going over each ward individually, so hopefully we’ll know about that soon. But as for Terak,” Fallon’s hand did a quick triple-beat against her leg, an outward sign of frustration. “I don’t know why he was there, and I don’t like it, especially since I don’t have much more faith in gargoyles than I do necromancers. Right now sucks, because all we’re doing is sitting on our hands waiting for something to break.”

  Wulver smirked at her. As glad as Fallon was to see him relaxed again after getting out of the blood bank, it wasn’t pleasant to have all the relieved energy directed at her, peeving her off when she was already in a sour mood. “Then be glad you have Merc to take care of in the meantime until something pans out. Any word on the Dream Crafter?”

  “None yet, but she can’t hide forever.”

  “And Rhaum?”

  “He’s being his usual inscrutable self and making a crazy request as payment. I agreed to it. We need her. Merc is too good and has too many defenses against any of our other means to get to him. I wouldn’t want to go against him unless I had no other choice.”

  “But has he committed to guarding the spellbook? He’s never done a job for anyone evil.”

  “No, but he’s going to.” Fallon looked out the window, the occasional streetlight only deepening the gloom of the road in front of them. “And we both know why.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‡

  Knocks on the door tended not to mean good news these days, but Larissa rose to answer anyway.

  Olivia stood there, carrying take-out bags with the name of a nearby Thai restaurant and emitted an amazing smell that started Larissa’s stomach growling. “I come bearing gifts to make up for not calling ahead.”

  Larissa jerked her head. “You’re in. I’ll grab some plates.”

  After food had been dished out and wine had been poured, the women retired to the couch to start their feast. “So,” Olivia began, “your car will be ready in two days. My friend was impressed by the damage you did.”

  Larissa swallowed a spring roll. “Thanks. I was rather impressed to have caused it.”

  “You know there was never any mention of an orc attack in the news, right?” Olivia waited until Larissa nodded to continue. “What is going on?”

  Taking a swig of wine – fake courage at its finest – Larissa said, “Does this mean you are going to tell me how you know someone who’ll fix a car full of orc splatter?”

  Without answering, Olivia stood up and walked toward the kitchen. “Olivia?”

  Opening the refrigerator door, she held up a couple more bottles of wine. “With all the stories we are going to be telling tonight, I think we’re going to need these.”

  Larissa lifted her glass. “Top me up.”

  After wine was poured and they were once again settled, Larissa started. “I have no idea what’s going on. None. Zilch. I’m as in the dark as I was after I was attacked by zombies. The only difference is I know now that it wasn’t an accident. I am the target of all this.”

  Olivia tilted her head, disbelief written all over her face. “How can you not have a clue? These people… this isn’t tiny, this isn’t a scrap of information you might have stumbled across in a book or the wrong person crossing your path.”

  That was the same question on endless loop since she accepted the attacks were meant for her. Frustration beat a strong rhythm through her head and had her digging her toes into the carpet. “Believe me, if I had ever done anything that might be causing this, I’d be confessing it in the town square, in front of Dad and whoever else might be watching. I don’t want any of this.”

  “Speaking of dad,” and Olivia ran her hand through her brunette curls, the aftereffect a tousled look most women paid salons big bucks for. “Could this have something to do with him or one of your brothers? Have you talked to them at all about this?”

  �
��No.”

  “Why?”

  Larissa ran her hand through her own hair. Through long experience she knew the look was nowhere near as flattering as Olivia had achieved with the same motion. “Because Dad can’t help me, and if I bring him into this, I’m going to get him killed. You know how he is, how my brothers are.”

  Narrowed-eyed disbelief met that statement. “Maybe – maybe – you can justify not telling the family when you thought it was a mistake or a one-off. But now, it’s wrong to keep them out of this.”

  Larissa quelled the urge to squirm like a seven-year-old under the Olivia’s look. “If I go to Dad, he’s going to lock me down. I won’t be allowed out of the house.”

  “Yeah, that’s horrible, having a family love you that much. What was I thinking?”

  The urge to squirm morphed into an urge to hang her head in shame under the harsh tone. It wasn’t something they talked about, but Olivia had been abandoned when she was little and had been on her own most of her life. Though she never voiced the thought aloud, Larissa was sure one of the reasons Olivia hung out with her was to be able to experience a tight-knit family.

  “You’re right. I am a lucky woman to have these people back me up. They would put their own lives on the line to protect me.” Larissa kneaded the back of her neck, her fingernails scraping the sensitive skin there. How to make Olivia understand? “Would you give up your freedom for prison? A wonderful prison, one with amazing people and great food and lots of love within its walls, but still a prison.”

  Olivia wasn’t about to be placated. “You have no clue what a prison is like, or being on your own.”

  “No, but I do know what it’s like to suffocate because no one around will let you breathe. No matter how loud you yell, or what you say, it’s always a pat on the head and they send you down the path they want you to take, no matter what your wishes are.” Larissa placed her hand on Olivia’s forearm, forcing the brunette to look at her. “I was a good daughter, and I did what was expected of me, and you know what? I’m happy I did. I don’t have any regrets, because I love my family and I love my life. But if I go to Dad now, I will never have another moment in my life where I am not under his thumb, and he’ll justify every second by saying he’s protecting me. And I love him enough that I’ll let him do it, because the only other option is to lose him, and I can’t abide that thought.”

  Olivia covered Larissa’s hand with her own. “So you’re saying family is a little overrated?”

  Larissa smiled, though she couldn’t quite manage the laugh Olivia was angling for. “I’m saying my family has to stay in the dark, at least for a short while. I’m not yet at the point where I have no other choice except to inform them and take the consequences.”

  Olivia squeezed Larissa’s hand before letting go, and Larissa removed her hand from Olivia’s forearm. “How are you going to protect yourself? You are the only one of the Miller clan who doesn’t know at least three martial arts and can shoot a gnat from a mile away.”

  If only she could blame her father clinging to outdated gender roles for that fact. Reality was Larissa never had any interest in learning any of those things, no matter how much Dad tried to get her involved. She preferred spending her time in the library, always had. It was still her favorite hangout. “I have someone looking out for me.”

  Not good. Olivia’s eyes widened a fraction, then took on a gleam of devious speculation. “Oh you do? Who would this paragon be, and why have you never mentioned him to me before?”

  How to explain Terak in terms that would not have Olivia salivating and asking ever more uncomfortable questions? “He saved me from the zombies, and said he wanted to protect me.”

  “Did he have a hand in getting you away from the orcs?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’ve never mentioned him before because…?”

  “He’s… shy.”

  Olivia leaned closer, practically climbing on top of her. “Who is he?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Olivia!” Olivia took that as her cue to back away, though still within pouncing distance. “It’s a secret.”

  “I thought we weren’t having any more secrets.”

  “That’s right,” confirmed Larissa. “No more hiding my secrets. That doesn’t mean I can tell secrets entrusted to me.”

  “He’s trustworthy, you’re sure?”

  You would call me a friend? “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  Olivia nodded. “You’re covered in the bodyguard department, good news. Now, how are you going to figure out the whys and wherefores of what’s happening on your own?”

  Larissa reached over and grabbed Olivia’s hand. “I’m not on my own. I’ve got you.”

  “Fat chance. We get chased by orcs, I’m tripping you and running the other direction.” But Olivia twined her fingers with Larissa’s, giving a reassuring squeeze.

  And now came the part of the evening where Olivia had to answer a few questions. “Since you know people, do you think you know anyone who can help me figure this out?”

  Olivia’s gaze became distant as she considered. “I think I do. But he’s a hard one to get hold of, and he isn’t a certainty. He’s got his own demons chasing after him.”

  “Figuratively or literally?” Larissa asked. Olivia rolled her eyes but didn’t answer the question. “I’d be grateful if you can try to get him, even if he isn’t a certainty.”

  “I will. I’ll put in a call when I get home.”

  “Thank you.” Eyeing her wineglass, Larissa refilled it and took a long drink. She’d probably need it for this portion of the evening. “Just how do you know people?”

  To her credit, Olivia didn’t pretend ignorance. “You know me. I talk to everyone.”

  Olivia certainly did that. It was talent and gift rolled together, the way she was able to bond with anyone no matter their background. Within minutes, she went from stranger to beloved family friend. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why would I have?” Olivia’s face held a hint of censure. “Before this happened to you, you were content to live far away from any of the New Realms. It wasn’t a part of my life that I thought you would enjoy. Maybe I didn’t think you’d approve of it.”

  “I wouldn’t have approved or disapproved, I just wouldn’t have been interested in it. That sort of dovetails back to our previous discussion about being surrounded by a loving family who think they know best for you, being in a prison that isn’t really a prison.”

  An o of surprise formed across Olivia’s mouth. A shading of understanding crossed her face as she closed her mouth, bowing her head slightly. “Sorry.”

  “Yeah.” The wine was more than half gone by this point, but despite being a lightweight when it came to alcohol, Larissa wasn’t affected by the hazy happiness that usually accompanied consumption. “Don’t worry about it. Honestly, I didn’t realize I was in a prison of my own making until recently.”

  “And now?”

  Larissa drained the last of the wine in her glass. “Jailbreak.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‡

  Larissa leaned on her balcony railing, looking toward the sky. Olivia had left twenty minutes before following a lot of food and a lot of conversation that didn’t revolve around the crazy turn her life had taken recently.

  It had been a great reminder of normalcy, but now she wanted to speak with Terak.

  She hadn’t seen him since the day of the orc battle. He said he would be gone for a few days to fulfill his responsibilities at home, then had flown away.

  Should she call out, maybe wave her arms like she had done the first day?

  Her reverie was interrupted by Terak dropping beside her.

  “Terak!” she cried, her hand going over her heart. “You scared me!” That was what one called an understatement. These days a stray leaf was enough to get her jumping.

  “My apologies,” he replied, but that deep voice didn’t quite conve
y that sentiment. He sounded far away, his mind and thoughts in another place and another conversation.

  Leader of a Clan. She watched over one hundred students on a regular basis and sometimes she wanted to explode at the end of the day. To know a whole race depended on your every decision? She added a note of teasing to her voice, to let him know no harm done. “If my life keeps up at this pace, I’m going to have a heart attack by the time I’m thirty.” She took a deep breath, trying to settle her racing pulse, when a thought struck. “Do gargoyles age like humans?”

  He turned his attention to her, finally shaking off whatever shackles he arrived with. “Yes, our lifespans are quite similar.”

  She motioned to his wings. “But you guys have that cool healing power.”

  His brow bone arched above his right eye. No fair, even without eyebrows he could do the eyebrow arch. Why could she never manage that? “Cool?” And she might be wrong, but there sounded like a hint of tease underlining his words, the same tone he used after he had been healed.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you asking me what it means, or are you questioning my choice of outdated slang?”

  He mirrored her body language, though watching those massive arms stretch over his impressive chest made her heart pound in a way that had nothing to do with fright. “You are a teacher. Do you not know the new slang by listening to them?”

  “No, kids only speak new slang when they don’t want you to know what they’re talking about. They use the classics around us old people.” She motioned to his wing again before returning to her arms crossed position. “Healing factor?”

  Instead of his usual almost smile she got the real thing, small and quick and unexpected and it wasn’t until her lungs told her to bring in some oxygen that she remembered – breathing, it was a good thing. “I am glad you approve of it, though I do not think of it as cool, more as necessity. You need every advantage in battle.”