by M K Mancos
I didn't particularly like insects on a good day in small numbers. Not that I had anything against them either—but this really stretched my coping mechanism to the max.
"Can we drive out of here?" Hope filled my voice. No telling if the bug armada would follow us wherever we went.
"I'd rather wait it out and clean the windshield off before we drive too far." He glanced over at me. "You aren't allergic to bee stings, are you?"
I shook my head. "I have no idea. I've never been stung."
"All right. We'll proceed as if you are and stay where we are until it's over." He touched his phone and thumbed through his contacts. A moment later there was yelling on the other end, even before he had a chance to ask for someone.
I didn't catch every word, but there were a few choice ones that had me raising my brow. He finally braved the verbal attack and put the phone to his ear.
"I hear you. I think even the shadow realms heard you." He frowned and looked at me. "No. She's sitting right next to me. Why?"
I didn't want anything to do with someone who would abuse a guy so badly just for calling. As a matter of fact, it made me want to go into protector mode. I wiggled my fingers to encourage him to hand me the phone. I was going to give them a real piece of my mind and a big dose of Southern attitude.
Malachi shook his head and put his hand up, telling me to hold on a moment. "I'll tell her you said so." A brief pause, then. “There’s a bank teller who needs an intervention extraction at the Fox Run Trust.”
He ended the call without signing off, which made me wonder if he'd hung up on whomever. "Astrid is worried about you."
"Sounded more like she wanted to reach through the phone and throttle you."
"Yeah, well, that's just her personality."
"It needs work." I crossed my arms and stared out the window to see if the invasion had slowed down.
It had.
The occasional splat and ping only peppered the car like a bag of microwave popcorn at the end of its cooking time.
"How did this even happen?" The question was rhetorical. I knew how it happened. I was hanging around with a man who was a designated war mage. He lived the life most gamers would give their last working controller to have—but it didn't look at all fun from this perspective. It was big, and it was scary. It wasn't something he could power down or return to when he'd finished grocery shopping or walking the dog. It was something he lived with every day.
I kind of felt sorry for him as we sat there in his ruined car, looking out the window at bug juice and carcasses. We were in way over our heads and sinking fast.
He pulled some papers out of the glovebox and opened the door. He scraped them across the windshield and onto the hood. The residue was bad but might be worse with the cleaner and wipers. At least they weren't streaks. I could see him clearly, even though the spots drove me out of my mind.
Malachi scanned the lot, hands on hips and furrow on his brow. "Damn it all to hell in a little red wagon."
I opened my door and got out to take in the destruction as well. It wasn't immediately noticeable because I didn't know what I was looking for among the other parked cars and encroaching dusk.
The parking lot lights had come on and people were returning to their cars, leaving the businesses that kept banking hours. Then I noticed what Malachi had—none of the other cars were covered in bugs. They were as pristine as when they'd driven into the lot. Only Malachi's had been the target of the attack.
"Why bugs?" I had to ask, because really, what scary movie didn’t feature bugs to gross the viewer out?
"Because in the twilight they’re harder to see and can bring disease, allergens, toxins." He motioned to the passenger seat. “That's good enough to get to a gas station so I can clean it off better."
I climbed in and shut the door. The atmosphere inside the car was somber. I’d only known Malachi for a few days, but in that time, I’d never seen him so damn defeated.
“You shouldn’t let her talk to you like that.” I returned to the previous topic as one dear to my heart. I might have been stepping off the cliff and away from my comfort zone, but I really didn’t think his mood was from a bunch of bugs.
“She was right. I’m man enough to admit when I’m wrong. Not to mention, she's been doing this a hell of a lot longer than me.” He clicked his seatbelt into place then turned the key in the ignition.
“That may be, but you’re still human. You don’t deserve to be hollered at by a witch with an attitude.” No lie, I felt kind of protective of Malachi. He’d found a way to save me from the past, after all. I owed him.
He glanced at me with a twinkle in his eye. He gave a low, sexy chuckle. “Don’t let her hear you calling her that.”
He put the car in gear and drove us to a gas station. He pulled up to the pump and got out to clean the windshield. Judging from all the bugs caught in the groove between glass and hood, he really needed to take it for a good wash and detail.
When he got back in, he looked at me. “You want to grab something to eat?”
“Sure. What did you have in mind?”
“I can take you to my place and make us something, or we can stop and pick up from the diner.” He threw the suggestions at me as if cooking was an everyday thing for him.
In my experience, men only cooked for women they wanted to impress. While I loved a man to fuss over me, I didn’t think it was fair to do to a guy who had as bad of a day as I’d had.
“I’m not going to make you cook for me. Why don’t we just stop and get it. Less of a hassle all around.”
He gave a heartfelt sigh of relief. “Thank you. I was hoping you’d say that.”
I laughed, though I didn’t feel anything close to happy or jovial. To be honest, I’d had a horrible time since coming to New York the first time a few weeks ago. Nothing had turned out the way I’d envisioned it. Yet, I had to believe events had unfolded as they were supposed to. I was, after all, beholden to my destiny, which included Malachi.
We picked up the food at the same diner where we’d first seen each other, then drove to his house.
Malachi’s house was a small cape-style in a middle-class neighborhood not far from the diner. The house was sweet and cozy. It had a fireplace along the outer wall of the living room that ran almost the entire length of the wall. Old stone made up the facia and hearth. Screws had been drilled into the mortar to hang pictures and brass fireplace tool holder.
A quick, sharp image straight out of romance Clichéland hit me straight in the heart. It involved me and Malachi and a fire with little to no clothes. I gave a sigh and turned to look at the rest of his surroundings to take my mind off the hot thoughts.
A curio cabinet held models of classic cars, each with exquisite detail.
I pointed to the cabinet and little vehicles inside. "These are really nice. They don't look like kits."
A proud smile lit his face. "They aren't. I molded, cut, fabricated, and painted them myself."
"Wow. This is an art form." Truly impressed, I gave them a second, closer look.
He walked up behind me to look into the glass over my shoulder. "Sometimes I need something to do separate from all the magic."
I got that. I truly did.
I turned away from the cabinet and appreciated the rest of my surroundings, and an immediate sense of comfort overcame me.
“I like this house. It suits you.” I took a place on the deep brown, suede sofa.
“Thanks. I got it for a song.” He set the bag of food on the coffee table then headed into the kitchen. “You want something to drink?”
“Water.” I generally drank water when I was nervous. I didn’t know why. For some reason it settled my stomach when all else failed. I think I was more nervous being in Malachi Sayer’s house than being attacked by a barrage of bugs in the local municipal parking lot.
In all fairness, he’d been in my home. The place I felt most myself. Aunt Rallie’s house would always be home for me. No matter
where I went or how far I traveled.
I heard him open the fridge, a cabinet, the silverware drawer, then a couple of rips from a paper towel roll. He came back into the living room carrying supplies all piled up on a couple of square plastic plates.
He set them in front of me then handed me a bottle of water. “It’s all I have that I’d drink. I mean, the tap water is fine, but this is better for drinking.”
“It’s fine.” I wasn’t about to have a meltdown over the type of water he brought me. Hell, I was a little tougher than that.
I opened the bag and handed him one of the metal containers. The bottom was hot, and I had to blow on my fingers to cool them down.
Concern knit his brow. “Burn yourself?”
“Nearly.”
He lifted my hand and inspected my fingers. Damn, but that same tingle was back. He ran his thumb along the pads of my index and middle finger then let my hand go. “They’re a bit pink, but they shouldn’t blister.”
We ate in relative silence. I asked him questions every now and then—nothing of consequence, more to get to know him better. He didn’t appear to want to talk about himself, which made me all the more curious.
I picked up a forkful of my salad and stared at him over the coffee table. “So, do you think the bugs were a warning?”
“In a way. But it was also a marker. Which is why Astrid went off her nut.”
I held up a finger. “How did she know? You hadn’t even told her when she started yelling.”
“Oh, she knows.” He rolled his eyes as one who was long-suffering with an impossible boss. “I mostly let her tirades roll over me. She’s like that because she cares. Not because she’s evil.”
I decided to withhold judgement until I met the woman. Not that I thought it likely. So far, she was just a loud voice on the phone. As Malachi had it, she was one powerful witch, which made me wonder how much she knew, and how much she kept from him.
Twenty-One
Malachi
Bad night. I tossed and turned and beat my pillow until it begged for mercy. All this because the girl of my dreams was sleeping in my guest room and I couldn’t touch her. Wouldn’t touch her. Not yet. Maybe not ever. I knew the score on how things were supposed to go downhill for us; happiness was not the end result, and I didn’t want to thumb my nose at destiny.
I’ve seen things go sour way too many times for that shit. Besides, we had bigger things to do than fall in love. Hell, I’d only been in the same room with her for a few days, and I was already three-quarters of the way there.
If anything, Kells was smart, resourceful, tough, beautiful. Did I say smart? She didn’t panic when supernatural shit happened and kept her cool against bug attacks. The woman was pretty much perfect, and I didn’t want to risk the heartache I knew was to come if I took things further than we had already.
Hell, a few kisses I could write off. Sleeping with her—making her mine—I’d have a harder time dismissing. I’m not built that way. It was hard enough watching my sisters get jerked around by men who didn’t appreciate them. I wasn’t about to be one of those guys I’d wanted to plant my fist in the faces of. I might be a lot of things, but I tried really hard not to be hypocritical.
Sun crested the hill behind my house and straight into the crack between the blinds and onto my eyes. I winced and rolled over. There wasn’t enough sleep in the world to make me feel rested after the past few weeks. Hell, after the past few years.
The shadow realms were getting more desperate. Encroachment didn’t just happen on a daily basis now, but by the hour, the minute.
I flopped over onto my back and looked at the ceiling. We had to win this war with the shadow realms. If not, humanity was lost. Swallowed by the darkness.
Why had they taken Jane Porter? I really wanted to get into those notebooks and see what she’d written. What mathematical equations were interesting enough for dark beings to grab her and drag her into another dimension? Those in the shadow realms didn’t need math to do what they did; it was inherent in their DNA.
Disgusted with my inability to make sleep happen, I threw the covers off and rose to face the day. We had to get to the bank and the office. I had every intention of getting to Fox Run Trust the moment the doors opened.
I pulled sweatpants over my boxer briefs and grabbed a T-shirt from the dresser. Coffee. I needed a big cup of Joe and breakfast. Preferably an omelet the size of Manhattan.
The scent of coffee brewing hit me about the time I walked out of the bathroom. I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t do a little dance knowing Kells was awake and in my kitchen, making herself at home.
I liked it. Too much.
“You’re a lifesaver. How did you know I needed a fix this morning?”
“Are you kidding?” She pinned me with a stare over her steaming mug of what looked like tea. “Every time you rolled over, your bed frame squeaked and woke me up.”
I thought about it for a moment. I’d had the bed so long that I didn’t even notice the noise when I rolled over. They fell into the background sounds of life. “I’m sorry. I’ll put a box fan in your room tonight, so you’ll have some white noise.”
She set her mug on the counter and folded her arms. The action hiked her breasts up a good inch, and I had to stifle a moan. To distract myself, I went about pouring a cup of coffee.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t sleep. I never sleep well the first night in a strange place. Except for Bea and Mathilda’s, but I think they might have slipped me a mickey.” The joke fell flat as she looked up at me, and I saw the pain in her eyes.
“You miss them.” It wasn’t a question. It was there in every line of her body.
“They literally saved my life that day. I never got a chance to tell them personally how much they meant to me. The fact, in this time, they’re long gone breaks my heart.” Tears welled in her eyes.
I couldn’t help myself. Her tears were my undoing. I reached for her and pulled her to my chest, encasing her in my arms. I let her cry against me. The front of my shirt soaked with her tears.
I rubbed a slow hand up and down her back. “If you want, we can find out where they’re buried and visit their graves. You can put flowers down and let them know how you feel; though, I’m sure my sister, Kara, would say the dead already know how we feel.”
She backed away from me, her hands still fisted in my shirt. “I’d like that. Thank you.”
Damn, I wanted to kiss her so bad right then, but I stopped myself. I acted like a good boy and let the moment pass and allowed her to collect herself.
She picked up her tea and took a sustaining sip. “Why aren’t you married yet, Malachi Sayer?”
I nearly choked on the question. There are so many answers I could have given her. So many excuses. I considered for a moment telling her the truth, but I couldn’t do it. It was a fishbone stuck in my throat. “With my job…” I let the sentence hang as if that’s all the explanation I needed.
She gave a nod as if she understood. “I’ve come close a few times.”
My blood pressure skyrocketed, and I almost slammed the coffee cup onto the counter, demanding an explanation. This was news to me. Air locked up in my lungs, and I suddenly had to fight for breath.
Kells stepped up to me with worried eyes. “Are you all right? Coffee go down the wrong pipe?”
I nodded because it was easier than thinking that, in some reality, she’d married someone else, but for the grace of God, she wasn’t in this one. That’s the thought that finally got me breathing again. All this happened in the space of seconds, but it seemed like hours. As if time itself had expanded to the size of the universe.
Even as I wiped a hand down my face, I cursed myself in my head because I know how juvenile I acted. I also knew that if the universe wanted two people together, it was going to move heaven and earth to put them in each other’s path. She was my person, and I couldn’t stop the train wreck on the tracks an affair with her would be. But I found I couldn’t n
ot take the plunge either.
“I’m going to go grab a shower then we’ll head over to the diner and get breakfast while we wait for the bank to open.”
“I could cook something here.” She opened the fridge and studied my pitiful excuse for supplies and let it fall closed again. “Or maybe not.”
I smiled because she looked so disappointed. “There’s another shower down the hall from your room. You can use that one.”
She lifted the front of her shirt and sniffed. “Do I offend?”
“No. Not at all. I just thought I’d make the offer.” I picked up my cup off the counter and took it with me to the bathroom in my bedroom.
Hiding. I was hiding. Pure and simple. I needed to get out of that kitchen before I suffocated on emotions too big for the cramped space. The bitch of it all was I didn’t know if she felt the tension the same way I did. She acted together and unfazed. Me, I was a six-foot tall basket case.
I took my time in the shower, hoping a good long, hot head soaking would help me get my mind right. If it didn’t, I would just have to man up and let things roll as they may.
I finished getting ready and walked back into the kitchen. Kells wasn’t there. The house was quiet. The kind of quiet that only happens when someone is completely and utterly alone. When the energy of another being doesn’t take up some of the space.
“Kells!”
My heart started to pound up into my throat and I panicked thinking she’d fallen into another time well or got snatched by the shadow beings.
“Kells!”
She wasn’t in her room. Steam still filled the bathroom where she’d used the shower. Her luggage was in her room, and the lid open where she’d been rummaging through it to find something.
I hurried out the back and found her in the middle of the yard with her phone to her ear. She waved her free arm around as if about to take off in flight.
I sat because if I didn’t, my knees would have buckled at the relief. Kells was agitated about something, but her end of the conversation was lost from the distance. Besides, I wanted to just drink her in and watch. The need to get my shit together before I spoke to her again was foremost in my mind.