Killing Time

by Elisa Paige

Struggling out of Koda’s arms and putting some distance between us, I made myself focus on figuring out why he’d saved me from a bittern’s fatal coma.

  He must have seen the suspicion in my face. Tossing the empty plastic bottle aside, he rose to his feet. “While such things are meaningless to fae, I gave my word I would spare your life. And my word is more precious to me than you could begin to comprehend.”

  “You know nothing about me.” My voice came out harsh and I cursed inwardly that the arrogant jerk’s low opinion of me stung.

  He shook his head. “I know enough to despise everything related to the fae.”

  Still weak, I rubbed uselessly at the braided leather band resting against my neck like a damned pet collar. “As do I.” From my periphery, I saw his startled expression as even I heard the corrosive bitterness in my tone. I breathed in and out a few times. “You’re not going to remove the bindings.”

  I’d made it a statement not a question, but he answered anyway. “No.”

  I gave him a look that said he’d won this skirmish, but the war was far from over. His glare challenged me to try something.

  Moving on for now, I asked, “Do you know where the vampires have gone?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  Biting back a bitchy response, I struggled to keep my tone reasonable. “Because a phone call would work just as well. I have to talk with the one called Jack.”

  Studying me, Koda leaned his shoulder against a support column and looked sublimely unimpressed. “A phone call.”

  “Yes. Five minutes, that’s all I need. Then I’ll be on my way and we’ll never have to see each other, ever again.”

  He smiled and the expression was anything but pleasant. “You know as well as I do that phone lines can serve as conduits for supernatural attack. I won’t risk endangering—”

  “Dammit, it can’t wait!” I was in a filthy mood and his insouciance was making it worse. “You’re screwing everything up!”

  “It’s life’s little pleasures that make each day worth getting up for.” He lifted a black brow. “What do you want with Jack?”

  Stubbornness tightened my jaw and Koda’s arrogance made me dig my heels in. “Tell me where he is first.”

  “No way in hell. As I said, you stink of fae and the only time fae stop lying is when they’re dead.”

  “Does your lousy attitude come naturally? I can’t believe you’d intentionally apply the same racist bullshit against me that white settlers once used against your people.”

  One minute, I was sitting. The next, I was pinned against the wall. Koda’s face was drawn with fury, inches from my own. “The settlers were a willing tool wielded by manipulative fae bastards who wanted my people gone. They feared our connection with the earth and our ability to negate their control of the elements.” He shoved away from me and stalked to the other side of the room, taut as a bowstring and quivering with barely leashed rage. “Between the settlers, the cavalry, the U.S. government and the fae, we never stood a chance back then and we still have not recovered. I look around me now, and once again I see fae avarice focused on this continent. I see the fae king’s alliance with European supernaturals. I will not allow our native supernatural brothers to suffer the same devastation the nations did. I will not! I am done watching my kind wither and die!”

  I rubbed a hand across eyes that felt like half a desert was embedded in them. It had been far too long since I’d last slept, but this was more than physical exhaustion—this weariness went soul deep. “I guess it wouldn’t matter if I told you I hate fae more than you could begin to imagine.”

  He grunted. “As if I’d take your word for it.” I opened my mouth to protest and he held a hand up, silencing me. “Save it.”

  I let my gaze rove around the familiar room—the cobwebbed corners, the boarded-over windows and the faded walls with their shadows where pictures had once hung. “How’d you find my hideout?”

  Koda paced back and forth like a caged lion. “I was backtracking James’s trail to make sure no one was after him. Imagine my surprise to find you, hot-footing it to Dallas.” He shot me a look. “Care to tell me why?”

  I shrugged, bone-tired. “Would you believe me?”

  He shook his head. “Not a word.”

  “Then why ask,” I muttered, watching him stride restlessly around the empty office. “How long have you been shadowing me?”

  “You’d believe me?” He threw the words back.

  “Try me.”

  “Two days.” Disapproval colored his tone. “You were in too big a hurry. That’s what caught my attention.”

  “I had my reasons.” Ignoring his arch look, I pressed, “So you found the deserted office highrise I used as a base and then what?”

  He shook his head angrily. “My turn with the questions. You keep saying you’re not fae, yet you stink of them. What are you?”

  I debated with myself for a second, then sighed, figuring it wasn’t worth yet another battle. “We are called bittern.” I shrugged a shoulder. “Among other things.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched, as if against his will. “Like?”

  I played with my jacket’s zipper so I wouldn’t have to meet Koda’s too-aware gaze. “Nothing flattering.”

  “Bittern.” He shoved his hands in his pockets with a little too much force. “You’re serious.”

  “It’s what the fae call us.”

  “A bittern is a shy marsh bird. It’s a plain-looking, chunky brown thing with stubby legs and beady yellow eyes that point downward. Whoever named your kind had a twisted sense of humor or was an idiot.” Koda considered. “Possibly both.”

  Uncertain, I chose not to respond.

  He rubbed his jaw as he studied my expression. “Since you are clearly not the feathered kind, what is your type of bittern?”

  If he didn’t know the appalling details, I wasn’t going to tell him. I clenched my teeth and looked away, keeping my mouth shut as the silence stretched.

  His voice was soft and dangerous. “I could make you tell me.”

  Bitterness laced my words. “There is nothing you could do that hasn’t been done.” Sneering, I met his black gaze. “Wanna see the scars?”

  He looked at me sharply and a long moment passed. Twice, it seemed he would say something, but both times he pressed his lips together.

  Weariness tugged at me. I shuffled to a corner of the room and sank to the floor. Slumping against the wall, I tilted my head back and let my eyes slit—not trusting Koda enough to close them, but too tired to keep them fully open. Despite my resolve to stay awake, I was just beginning to drift off when his voice roused me.

  “You’re forgetting the bracelets, the necklace.” He moved closer. “With them, I can make you answer me.”

  My eyes snapped wide. “Then why not do so and have done with this asinine situation? Ask me why I tracked the vampires. Ask me why I kept the bodach from slaughtering them. But I’m guessing that, even if you forced the answers from me with your damned bindings, you wouldn’t believe a thing I said.”

  Koda stood over me, his expression indecipherable.

  An idea formed in my mind and I laughed out loud. “Ah, I see. With the bindings, you can make me speak, but you can’t make me speak the truth.”

  Rage tightened his handsome features and he turned away.

  Exhaustion dragged at me as the silence between us stretched.

  “Fae don’t sleep,” Koda growled.

  “You just don’t listen, do you?” Rubbing my gritty eyes again, I sighed. “Is it really your intent to keep me here?”

  He considered me, his expression mocking. “You just don’t listen, do you?”

  I gave him a cool look. “The last person who tried to hold me against my will didn’t survive the experience.”

  He raised a brow. “You can’t even stand up.”

  I resisted the urge to do something sophomoric like flip him the bird. “Maybe I’m biding my time.”

 
He barked a laugh. “Shall I frisk you then? Make sure you don’t have any more hidden weapons?” He let his gaze linger on my lips, my breasts, the swell of my hip. “I could do a full-body search. It’s the only way to be sure.”

  My cheeks heated with indignation. Warrior-to-warrior, one of the gravest insults was to behave as if your opponent’s skills were beneath contempt. And if you were a woman, the easiest way for a man to express his derision was to reduce the slur to the basest sexual connotations.

  “Touch me and you’ll pull back a stump,” I snarled, infuriated when my commands to rise were utterly ignored by my exhausted body.

  Koda’s lip curled. “Look at you, all puffed up like a day-old kitten.” At my sound of outrage, he grinned. “Besides jelly beans and sugar water, what do you require?”

  With effort, I tamped down my anger. “You’re going out?” I tried to keep my voice level, but he caught the undertone of keen interest all too easily.

  “For a brief time, yes. You will remain here until my return.”

  I lifted my chin. “Of course.”

  It was his turn to flush at how much sarcasm I’d infused into my words. “Nibaawin,” he murmured, bending over me. He reached a hand toward the band on my right wrist, freezing when I jerked away. Raising a challenging brow, he repeated the strange word and lightly touched his fingertip to the leather.

  Both wrists and the skin on my neck warmed not unpleasantly and an inexorable exhaustion roared through my brain, dragging me down with its sheer weight. Infuriated, I fought back and shoved my chin up higher. Pushing away from the wall, I climbed to my feet and stood, swaying.

  “Damn, but you’re stubborn,” he swore. “Nibaawin, shiriki.”

  “What does that mean?” I mumbled, reaching out as my balance failed. It surprised me no end when he caught my hand with his own, steadying me. I would’ve guessed he’d let me eat carpet and crowed to see the resulting rug burn.

  “It’s Lakota. It means Sleep, Coyote.” His voice was a deep rumble as he said something else I didn’t understand.

  “Din’ know you were Sioux,” I slurred, trying to tug my hand free. “Not gon’ sleep.”

  “I am friend and guardian of all the nations, not just Lakota Sioux. Hmm. Maybe I should call you Akecheta. Fighter. Or Witkowin. Crazy Woman.” He sounded bad tempered as always, but I thought I heard an undercurrent of admiration.

  On second thought, no way. Not from Koda.

  My eyelids refused to lift more than the slightest millimeter as I peered groggily up at him. “I got a few things I could call you, starting with—”

  His short laugh interrupted me. “Spare me your sharp tongue.” Then he began a singing chant. I didn’t understand the words, but the cadence was soothing and somehow uplifting at the same time.

  My eyes closed and I sensed Koda move closer, felt his hands on my shoulders as images filled my mind. Deerskin-clad dancers, the fringes and beads adorning their clothes swaying with their stately movements. Long black hair gleaming under the full moon, their tawny skin bathed golden by the bonfire’s light. The vision was so real, I could feel the prairie’s long grass tickle my outstretched fingers, smell the crisp scent of sage. Could hear the throb of the drums, the soft chanting of the holy man wearing his sacred eagle feather as he turned his wise gaze to meet mine…

  Dimly, I felt myself being lowered to the floor with surprising care. Despite my determination not to sleep, I drifted off, Koda’s ancient song following me down.

  Chapter Three

  When I awakened, sun was streaming in through the cracks on the plywood-covered windows, making long bright lines on the stained carpet and highlighting dust motes as they hung on the still air.

  A few feet away from me was a Starbucks bag filled with pastries and donuts, a bottle of water and an unopened box of jelly beans. There was also a piece of paper with some scribbling on it, but I only glanced at it before crumpling it up and tossing it into a corner.

  It was a veritable sugar feast and I greedily dove in, relishing the surge of energy as it hit my bloodstream. My brain ramped up then and I began to wonder what had happened after my blackout the night of the fight. I was pretty sure I’d killed all the bodach, but where had the six vampires gone? Would the one called Jack have stayed with them or would he have taken off on his own? From having tracked him, I knew that he’d only recently joined the group, but had no way of knowing how loyal he was to them.

  Wiping crumbs from the front of my wrinkled, sliced-up white T-shirt, I stood on rubbery legs and waited for my balance to settle. It was always the last physical system to recover. No idea why.

  Koda suddenly walked through the doorway and the fact that I’d not sensed his approach was beyond unsettling. He gave me a dark-eyed once-over, noting the empty Starbucks bag with no discernible reaction.

  That he had showered and changed into clean clothes hacked me off. His fresh, faded jeans fit his long, lean legs and taut backside just as deliciously as the ones I’d damaged. The pullover black sweater hugged his broad shoulders and narrow waist in ways that made thinking difficult.

  That I’d noticed any of this left me unbalanced and unsure of myself, two states I loathed. Seeking familiar ground, I chose to be angry that I was still dirty and wearing the same battle-worn outfit.

  My voice came out sharp. “Where’ve you been?”

  “You didn’t read my note?” he fired back.

  My eyes flicked guiltily to the balled-up paper in the corner. “What note?”

  He strode across the room and snatched it from the floor. Holding the crumpled paper at eye level, he muttered, “This one.”

  “Oh. That note.”

  “So you read it.”

  “I saw the paper, but I didn’t read it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why should I?”

  He made a strangled noise. “It was addressed to you.”

  “So?”

  “What do you mean, so?”

  I folded my arms over my chest and glared at him. “Just because someone addresses something to me doesn’t mean I’m required to pay it any mind. Especially since I’m only here because of your damned bindings!”

  Impatience flared in his eyes. “This is easily the most idiotic discussion I’ve ever had the misfortune to experience.”

  “Back atcha,” I growled, turning away to rummage through my backpack. I wasn’t really looking for anything, just using the activity as an excuse not to meet his irritated gaze. I sensed his movement but refused to look up, right until the moment his hand closed on the leather-bound book lying beside me. “Hey! Give that back!”

  He held it up, just out of my reach as he read the cover. “Hill’s Manual of Social and Business Forms.”

  “What?” I startled, freezing midlunge.

  “The book. Its title is Hill’s Manual of Social and Business Forms.” He looked at me strangely.

  Dumbfounded, I stared at him before shifting my gaze to the raised gold lettering on the worn cover. What a stupid subject. Never had I guessed that was what the thing was about. I’d thought it was so splendidly bound, it had to tell a fascinating story. I’d spent hours poring over the pages, thinking—maybe if I wanted it badly enough—somehow the symbols would make sense and I could learn the book’s secrets.

  Recovering, I snatched it from his hands and shoved it in my backpack. A long silence stretched and the more I tried to ignore Koda, the more aware I was of his gaze.

  His voice was low and shocked. “You can’t read.”

  Appalled, I refused to look at him.

  He bent to study my face. “That’s why you didn’t read my note. You couldn’t.”

  Clearing my throat, I muttered, “Everyone can read.”

  “Tell me the truth.”

  “Go to hell!” I retorted.

  Before I could stop him, he snatched the book out of my open bag and flipped to a page at random. Holding it up so I could see, he demanded, “Read something to me. Anything
. You pick it.”

  “I’m not playing your ridiculous games.” I reached for the book, but he held on.

  “You can’t do it.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to.”

  “Then prove me wrong,” he challenged.

  Suddenly, I’d had enough. “Are you so determined to prove your superiority? Or is it that you enjoy mocking me? Either way, it makes you a bully and an asshole!”

  Something flitted across his gaze, so fast I wasn’t even sure I saw the flicker of what looked horrifyingly like pity. Without another word, he closed the book and handed it to me. I took it, not realizing I’d clutched it to my chest with shaking hands until I noticed him noticing. Cursing under my breath, I returned the thing to my backpack.

  “I could teach you, if you like,” he said, his diffident tone making me look up.

  Hope clogged my throat, but I mercilessly choked it down and made my voice cold. “That sounds perilously close to kindness. Be careful or I might get the impression you didn’t hate all things related to the fae.”

  He sucked in a sharp breath. “Thinking either would be a stupid mistake. My offer was based on simple expedience.” His stygian eyes burned with anger—an emotion that was a helluvalot easier for me to take from him than pity. “Had I known you couldn’t read, I would have drawn stick figures on the note. Or are you incapable of understanding even that primitive form of communication?”

  I flinched and took an involuntary step back, mad as hell for giving ground and for letting his words cut so deep.

  Koda lifted a hand as if in apology, but I spun on my heel and bolted for the door.

  I got within eight feet when the bindings struck, hitting me between strides and dropping me to the floor as my muscles simply stopped responding. “Damn you,” I hissed on the trickle of air in my lungs. “Damn you.”

  Koda knelt and ran a warm hand over the bracelets before touching a light finger to the braided leather necklace and releasing the bindings. “Sephti, I—”

  I rolled shakily to my feet, hating that he’d called me by my rank designation, especially since it was all I had for a name. “Don’t,” I said in a harsh voice. “I get it, okay? All things fae suck. There’s no need to rub it in.”