by Jane Cousins
“Faleph had resting sneer face. Quite frankly, he was too much of a righteous prick to go along with my plan.” Athaltho moved back slightly, not wanting to get any of the spreading blood on his sandals.
“Interesting. Interesting.” Apep’s sonorous voice was full of haughty confidence. “It’s one of those first world problems I’ve encountered since I returned to this plane of existence, who to trust. I mean, my own loyal servants are nothing but dust. There is nothing to resurrect. So I took a chance on some fresh faces. You live, you learn.” Apep’s blue-gold eyes dropped to the crumpled body of his former Prime Advisor. “Well except for Faleph that is.”
“Stop acting like you are in charge here.” Finally the grin dropped from Athaltho’s round golden face. “You’re my prisoner now.” He suddenly looked like a pouty child demanding respect.
It was Apep’s turn to smile, a look of pure amusement settling over his handsome features. Cullen recognised a double-con in play when he saw one. But before Apep drew to a close this little charade, he wanted to know what Athaltho and the blonde behemoth wanted with Trix. He needed the information to factor into future threat assessments.
“Before this goes any further.” He shot Apep a polite, yet quelling smile, then shifted his focus back to the oblivious High Priest who was still under the foolish assumption that he was in charge here. “Just for my edification, if you don’t mind. I was wondering why you needed Patricia? You had your warrior pet here target her from almost the very beginning. Why?”
“Zartel returned from their first meeting raving on about snooty, uppity women who think they are so smart. Just because she runs a building full of stupid books. It drew my attention immediately. I had heard of the Southern Sanctuary. The vast magic resources they have here. It would take an incredibly intelligent woman to harness and understand the wealth of information they have gathered over the centuries.”
“And just to make sure of my credentials, you made me jump through hoops at that farce of a meeting. Testing my language and knowledge skills.” Patricia’s hazel eyes blazed with copper flecks, her gaze riveted on the fat priest. “You want my help in gaining control of the vines of Emaroth that I’m assuming still encircle Apep’s neck.” It explained the way he moved and held himself. Cara had reported the presence of the barbwire like vines from her encounter with Apep’s mummified form.
“You are a smart one.” It was Apep who answered.
Damn, Cullen didn’t like the admiring look the God of Chaos was sending Trix’s way. A hot spear of jealousy roiled in his gut. Determinedly he pushed it away.
“You misguided idiot.” Apep’s focus shifted to Athaltho. “You think I can’t get rid of this stupid twine? I wear it to remind myself. Not just of my sons betrayal but of my own hubris. I thought I was untouchable. And because of that I lost not just my own life, but that of Ruh, the brightest and best of my children. You seem to forget, Athaltho, that I am a God. You think these can hold me?” He lifted his hands and the black manacles turned to dust. “You think you’re underlings can restrain me?” The two dog headed guards that had been gripping Apep’s upper arms went the way of the manacles. There one second, gone the next. “You think you can steal what is mine?” Faleph’s prone body suddenly arched, issuing a loud gasp. The Prime Advisor’s eyes fluttered as he sat up, looking bewildered for a moment, clutching at his miraculously healed throat.
Patricia realised she had only seconds to act. Either Apep would enact his own revenge upon Zartel, standing behind her, using her as more a shield than a prisoner. Or, the huge idiot would attempt to portal out of here, taking her with him. She flicked a quick look Cullen’s way, knowing the Archer would comprehend her signal and burst into action.
Cullen was on the move instantly. One point one seconds to leap over Faleph, still lying stunned on the ground, rip the silver pin from Athaltho’s shoulder and hold the wicked edge to the fat priest’s neck.
Only then did he allow himself the luxury of looking Trix’s way. Damn, she was good. He had known, trusted, she could take Zartel, but it was still a relief to see the blonde warrior lying sprawled on the ground, Trix’s chunky amber necklace wrapped around the thick warrior’s throat. Trix had her knee planted firmly in the middle of his bare back, keeping him down. Her other hand was twisted in the warrior’s long blonde locks. Letting him know who held his leash.
“Splendid. Splendid.” Apep clapped. “And I was told there wouldn’t be any entertainment here today, how wrong my staff were.” He beamed at Cullen and Patricia before turning to look Cara and Erik’s way. “Again, please, accept my apologies dearest… we haven’t discussed how I should address you. Would it be too presumption to call you granddaughter?”
“No.” Colour had returned to Cara’s cheeks, though she still gripped her meld mate’s hand tightly. “I’d like that… Grandfather.”
Apep beamed with pleasure. “I’m afraid I shall have to cut today’s meeting short. As you can see I have some staffing issues to attend to. A disciplinary hearing or two to hold.” Suddenly Apep’s features turned wolfish with relish. His gaze flicking to Athaltho and then the prone Zartel, blue-gold eyes shimmering full of promise. “Would it be possible for me to ask for a… raincheck? I believe that is the appropriate terminology.”
“Y…yes, yes of course.” Cara managed to stammer.
Erik, beside her, looked way more relaxed, but then his Grandfather was the God Odin. “Absolutely, in fact, why don’t we do dinner, our place? Say in a week’s time?”
“How nice of you, to invite me into your abode. I shall look forward to it immensely.” Stepping forward he brushed a light kiss against Cara’s cheek. “Granddaughter.” Pleasure suffused his face for a split second once more before he turned and surveyed the other occupants. “Come on Faleph, get up man, we have work to do. Archer, I thank you for your contribution here today. Patricia Bennett, it has been an honour.” Within a blink of an eye, Apep, Faleph, Athaltho and Zartel were all gone.
Patricia just managed to save herself from slamming face first into the ground as Zartel abruptly disappeared. Quickly she threw away the necklace she’d used to choke collar Zartel, she’d never be wearing that piece of jewellery again. Heavens. She knew that Zartel was an idiot, but betraying Apep? Trying to control him? She pitied the world if the warrior ever chose to procreate.
Hmm, though she doubted the over large warrior would be given the opportunity any time soon, Apep’s ideas on punishment may well be old school, bordering on the eagle pluck out your liver daily type of punishment.
Ick, and not her concern. She had a sneaky suspicion, that if she had been successful in working out how to control the Vines of Emaroth, once done, she would have quickly been deemed a liability and dispensed with… for good.
Cretin, for thinking he could try and seduce her to get her help, and then, when that plan failed, thinking he could kidnap her. No, she wouldn’t be wasting her pity on Zartel.
The first clue things weren’t quite back on an even keel was when the building issued a low groan and the ground beneath her feet shuddered. Damn, her gaze flicking to Cara who was standing with her hands on her hips glaring up at her meld mate, Erik.
“Now, Angel. You need to clam down.”
“Calm down? Calm down? You invited Apep to our home… for dinner!”
Across the stream several books toppled from bookshelves and the Christmas ornaments began to sway slightly. A handful of overhead lights blew their bulbs. And the digital bulletin board, located behind the customer service station, sent out a puff of smoke and the screen suddenly went blank.
“So?” A look of confusion had settled across Erik’s handsome face.
“He’s a God.” Cara spat out. “You expect me to cook for a God?” Further up the stream one of the water sculptures that involved a series of Japanese gold cups, that helped regulate the flow of water, suddenly buckled. A small wave flowed forward, raising the water level of the stream to the very edge of the channel.
“I’ll fix that.” Erik cast a quick glance at the crumpled sculpture. “No charge.” Returning his focus back to his wife. “And he’s your Grandfather, not just a God. Remember your breathing.”
“You should take a big gulp yourself, because it’s going to be your last.” Cara threatened, her hands clenching into fists.
“I’ll cook.” Erik quickly volunteered. “And I’ll clean the house. You won’t have to do a thing but turn up and… and look beautiful.”
Whilst Erik was trying to calm his wife, Cullen was instructing his two distant cousins to make a hasty exit, sending them hurrying for the Transportal. Patricia squared her shoulders and decided to intervene. She didn’t want the glass ceiling coming down on their heads.
“Why don’t you make it a family barbeque, Erik? That will take the pressure off. And something tells me Apep and your father will find they have a lot in common.”
Cara’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “That’s not a bad idea.” She pointed a finger Erik’s way. “But you do all the cleaning, shopping and cooking… Inviting a God to dinner? What were you thinking?” She whirled around, stomping over the nearest wooden bridge. All the while muttering under her breath, ranting about idiotic husbands and stress inducing family get togethers. Two more lights fizzled out as she past under them, headed for the Transportal, Erik in hot pursuit.
With the slam of the Transportal door, Cullen was very aware that he was alone with Trix, finally. They were long over due for a discussion. And some way, some how, he needed to come up with a grand gesture that would demonstrate his love to Trix. Though he was still clueless on that front. He’d been running through millions of scenarios for the last few days, ever since he’d spoken to Darcy. And each and every option had felt hollow and just not fitting for a woman of Trix’s magnificent calibre.
By the Mists, as an Archer it was the worse possible case scenario… he was going to wing it. Merlin give him courage. Everything… everything was at stake here.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Patricia breathed a sigh of relief, the ground no longer trembled and it looked as if there was only minor damage sustained in the main part of the library. And almost nothing on this side of the stream, except for the debris left strewn over the slate floor from the earlier fight. Phew, they had survived, what a relief. Automatically she moved to start picking up the broken pieces of crockery and trampled food.
“That can wait.” Cullen approached, blocking her way.
Patricia backed up, she really didn’t want him to touch her, that would only make things a hundred times worse. In fact, she should leave. She opened her mouth, but Cullen hadn’t finished speaking.
“You owe me a discussion.” His tone was challenging.
Patricia straightened her spine, he wanted a discussion? Okay, fine, she’d give him one. Time for some home truths and to kick the Archer once and for all out of the Southern Sanctuary on his well dressed tight ass. “We both know you don’t belong here. You’re an Archer, all about duty to the sovereign soil. Staying here would be a mistake.”
“Yet, I’m a grown man, surely I get to choose my own mistakes. Not that I think it would be… a mistake, for me to stay, that is.”
“Look, it’s understandable that your ego took a hit. The whole death squad incident. Mara right under your nose. But no one is perfect, even a famed Archer.”
Cullen’s right eyebrow rose briefly, a wry smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “You think I’m having some sort of identity crisis because I want to live here? Here, where the winters are more like English summers. Where magic is used openly. Where I don’t have to watch my back twenty-four seven. Even when there is a guy standing behind me at the grocery store carrying a sword.”
“My family are eccentric, bordering on the wacky. They will drive you insane.”
“I’ve lived here for over two years now. I know exactly what I’m getting into. And all families are wacky in their own way. You seem to be under the impression that mine is full of stalwart, dry, humourless - ready to lay their lives down for the sake of the royal corgis - individuals. Let me tell you, in comparison, your family borders on the charming, and mostly harmless.”
“Right.”
“You want examples? Fine. My Cousin Gerald, Captain in our Majesty’s Navy, is obsessed with Alfred Hitchcock and likes to recreate his favourite scenes and characters using cheese as a medium. Cheddar, preferably, says it holds its shape better. My Aunt Celeste is married to a horse, a real life horse. She converted her conservatory into a stable so he can live in the house. Thankfully, I’m given to understand the marriage is a spiritual union not a physical one. My Great-Uncle Thomas believes he is a werewolf. He isn’t, no such thing, but watching an elderly man gambol about nude every full moon is enough to make you wish he could transform. I could go on… and on.”
Oh, maybe she had been a little presumptuous about the legendary Archers. Yes, they were noble knights, but she’d forgotten to factor magic into the equation. Something about having magic in your veins tended to bring the wacky with it.
No wonder Cullen fit so well into the Southern Sanctuary, he was well used to dealing with quirky individuals. Managing them. Focusing them. Just like he did by recruiting the retired Enforcers to take on the responsibility for updating the cryptozoology guidebook.
But a man of Cullen’s calibre always had to be studying the angles, manipulating those around him like chess pieces on a board. He was used to dealing with Royalty, politicians and international terrorists. His magic and position allowing him a wide and varied reach. How could running a Library Annexe compare to all that long-term?
“I think you’ve been blinded by the novelty factor. Now that your mission is complete, before too long boredom is going to set in and you will realise that you are stuck living in a sleepy, beachside town. Besides the picture theatre, local gym and the beach, there isn’t really a whole lot to do here. And the social scene consists of a never ending series of family get togethers to celebrate too often the ridiculous. Just last week there was party because our local Chief of Police finally came up with a name for the kitten he just adopted.”
“I’m sorry I missed that.”
“Don’t joke when it comes to the cats in this town.”
“I would never disrespect the felines of this locale. Frankly, I find the social gatherings here fascinating… and rather refreshing. Your family never put on airs. They genuinely like one another, and their interests and experiences are so unique that if I ask someone a question, I can never predict what their answer will be. You think I’ll wake up one morning a few weeks or years down the track and realise I’ve made a terrible error?”
“Yes. Being a Librarian is not a popularity contest. You cannot please everyone all the time or in a timely fashion. Times that by a factor of ten when it comes to my family. I know you think you have them under control with the changes you’ve made to the Research Department system, but trust me, they will never stop pushing the boundaries you’ve set or trying to find loopholes.”
“Providing me with a continual challenge. No chance of getting bored then.”
Patricia bit down on a sigh of frustration. “You’re forgetting the everyday grind. The set opening and closing hours the Annexe is now committed to.”
“Thanks to you I have staff, so I can mix up my own hours to keep things fresh.”
“And what about the myriad of other responsibilities that have now been assigned to you? Vault duty?”
“I find it intriguing.”
“Updating the cryptozoology field guide? Or should that be supervising the ex-Enforcers you’ve roped in to do it for you?”
“That’s to everyone’s benefit, and you know it. Besides, my rotation will only be for a few days every three weeks. And those guys will keep me young, I doubt their enthusiasm for bloodshed and violence is going to fade.”
Grrr, he had an answer for everything. “What about special projects? They won’t all be like
the Krell Spawn Society and form a committee to worship at your feet.”
“No, one day I’ll be leading story time for a bunch of babies that can put me in hospital if I don’t remain on my toes. Or find myself planning a fancy high tea for the God of Chaos, no pressure there. This is the Southern Sanctuary, I wouldn’t be surprised if the word boring had been erased from every dictionary in the District. On a personal note, between building the annexe, meeting the needs of the patron, and dealing with you, I’ve never been more challenged, and I can’t see that ever changing.”
“Dealing with me? What the hell do you mean by that crack?”
“Oh, don’t act all offended. You had it in for me from the moment we first met.”
“Because you were stealing library books.”
“An act of which I am entirely innocent. Do I need to remind you of the court case?”
Patricia waved her hand at the main part of the library across the fast flowing, burbling stream. “If the evidence fell on you, you’d be crushed to death.”
Cullen laughed, his jade green eyes flashing with amusement. “None of your experts in court could come up with any other reason than the catch all – magic - to explain the travelling books. Me, I have my suspicions. But we can discuss that at another time. The only important thing we need to discuss right here, right now, is the fact that I’m not leaving, now, or any time in the future.”
“You say that today.”
“And I’ll say it a year from now. A decade. In eighty years time. And you know why? It’s not just because I found a home here, and friends. A place I can relax, finally, and be myself. It’s because I found you, Patricia. From the moment you stomped into the Annexe, eyes flashing, throwing out threats, I was a goner. Completely. I love you. I love the way your mind works. How you step up physically and mentally to meet every danger. How you’ve dedicated your life to keeping your family, this community, safe… I can relate.”