by Amy Sumida
“Like it was before,” Jago hurried to say. “Gargoyles and your family can come through but no one else.”
“I don't want people to feel trapped.” Slate scowled. “They've been through enough.”
“The Gargoyles can escort them through the gates,” Aaro argued. “And they'll feel safer knowing that no one can bypass our guards.”
“I have one word for you,” I said to Slate. “Jinn.”
“See it done,” Slate barked the command at Jago.
“You got it, Boss!” Jago grinned as he pulled his radio off his belt and clicked it on. “Put the ward back up. The old one.”
“Got it!” a voice answered.
“It had better be the old one or Darc is gonna be pissed,” I warned Jago.
“You know what? Hold off on that for a bit,” Jago spoke into the radio again. “I'll let you know.”
I lifted a brow at him.
“I'm not taking the blame if the ward gets screwed up,” Jago said. “Especially not if it means facing an angry Darcraxis.”
“You should be more afraid of me,” Slate huffed.
“Oh, please.” Jago rolled his eyes. “The only time you've scared me was when you weren't you.”
Slate started to stand.
Jago yipped, turned, and ran away. “I'm not scared!” he called back. “Just remembered I have something I need to do.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
Verin stood up and announced, “I'm going home.”
My chest constricted with panic, forcing me to my feet. “So soon?”
Verin's jaw clenched.
“I mean”—I cleared my throat—“I think we should talk first.”
Verin didn't point out that we'd already said all there was to say, he only waved his hand to indicate that I should lead. I avoided the looks my men were giving me and walked past Verin, my body zinging with electricity when I brushed his arm accidentally. His hand shot out and caught mine, and we stepped silently into a nearby alley. Verin took the lead then, drawing me further away from the cacophony of the party and down to the end of the alley where the sounds were muted.
“Tell me not to go.” Verin's turquoise gaze pinned me in place. His words held no pleading or command but an ultimatum. “Say it, and I'll stay.”
My free hand balled into a fist while the other tightened on his. I stared at him; my heart telling me to grab him and hold on tight while my head screamed at me to push him away.
“You can't,” he concluded softly; ruefully.
“I want to,” I whispered. “But that's the problem, isn't it?”
Verin made a soft sound; one of acceptance. “How long?”
“How long for what?”
“How long until this spell wears off?” Verin snarled.
“Oh,” I breathed the word. “I don't know. I'm guessing it depends on the will of the target, and I'm also guessing that we both have fairly strong willpower.”
Verin grunted.
“A few days, maybe a few weeks.” I shrugged. “Or even a few months. I don't know.”
“But it will be apparent when it fades?”
“I would assume so.”
“I'll go,” he said crisply. “I'll give you three months. If I feel the same after that, I'm coming for you, Spellsinger.”
I blinked at him. “That sounded like a threat.”
“It is.” Verin grabbed my waist and yanked me against him.
His kiss was shockingly tender. Verin moved slowly over me, lips brushing lips and tongue teasing. I felt his vibrant, nearly-violent need vibrate through the tension in his body. He resonated with energy like a strummed guitar and my body hummed back. It felt as if we were aligning ourselves; getting in tune with each other. And I knew that when we found the right chord, we'd make beautiful music.
But not yet. Maybe not ever.
I eased back, away from Verin's kiss and out of his arms entirely. His hands slowly let me go, uncurling as if they ached. His expression looked shaky; likely a mirror of mine. A low rumble flowed over his parted lips and his eyes flashed. The Blue Dragon tensed; ready to pounce.
I held up a hand to ward him off. “Go. You said you'd give me three months. But come back either way, Verin. I want to know if this real. If it is, if we can face each other and feel love without magic behind it, I swear that I'll find a way to make this work.”
“And if not?” He asked. “There was attraction before, Elaria. I told you that I glimpsed a future for us together. If this returns to that potential, then what? I lose you because our relationship hasn't had time to mature?”
“You'll lose me because I wouldn't be what you wanted,” I reminded him.
“What if you are?” Verin snarled as he cast out a fist helplessly. “What if I still want you but I don't love you... yet?”
I inhaled deeply and let out a shaky breath. “I don't know. I guess we can talk to the others about it.”
“Talk to the others?” He huffed.
“My life is already shared,” I reminded him gently. “The only way it works is if everyone has a say. If we're in love, I don't think they'd stand between us, especially not since it would be a direct result of you saving my life. But if we're just attracted to each other...”
“Then there's no need to make room for me in your life,” he concluded.
I nodded. “And I think you'll feel relieved if that's the case.”
“Relieved?” Verin laughed bitterly. “The thought of going home to my empty bed and lying in it without you makes me want to rip something to pieces. Every bone in my body aches to take you; to hold you up against that wall and make love to you right here. And you say that I may have days or weeks or even months of this to look forward to? Do you honestly believe that won't change me? That desiring you like this won't leave an echo in my heart even after it fades?”
“I hope for both our sakes that it doesn't,” I said grimly.
Verin snarled and bared his teeth.
“I only say that because I can't betray them, Verin,” I growled back. “I won't. If they say no to us, that's it. I won't fight them.”
Verin roared, spun, and slammed his fist into the wall. The stone didn't crack or crumble, it was pulverized. A cloud of gray dust billowed up and when it settled, a fist-shaped hole was left in its place. He swung back to face me and snarled.
I slapped him and shouted, “Calm the fuck down!”
Verin blinked, eyes wide with shock. His chest rose and fell savagely but he seemed to get control of himself. “I'm sorry.”
I grunted. Then I rolled my eyes. “Damn it, now you've got me doing it.”
Verin chuckled; just a tiny sound, but it slowly became a full-blown laugh. Then I joined him and we laughed until we cried.
“You two all right?” Darcraxis stood at the end of the alley with his arms crossed over his chest.
The other men waited behind him.
“We're fine. Just give us a few minutes, please,” I said through my giggles.
They shook their heads at us but left. Verin and I turned toward each other and our amusement faded.
“Why won't you fight for us?” He whispered.
“I didn't say that I wouldn't. I said I wouldn't fight them if we only had an attraction. But if what we have is more than that, I will.”
“I will hold you to that promise, Elaria,” Verin declared.
“Come here.” I held my hand out to him.
Verin took my hand but instead of moving toward me, he pulled me to him. I shook my head at him. Damn obstinate Dragon. He grinned, knowing exactly what I was thinking.
“If we end up together, I'll need some kind of concession,” he murmured as he lowered his face to mine. “Something that evens the scales.”
“Scales, eh?” I teased.
“Yes, I know all about them.”
“So do I, but my scales have to do with singing.”
He lifted his brows as if that hadn't occurred to him. “You can sing my scales anytime.” He winced at his own p
athetic joke.
“That was awful.”
I laughed as I lifted my face to his and took that joy into our kiss. Possibly our last kiss. I was glad it held happiness and maybe a little hope. I ran my hands over his body while I had the chance; memorizing the muscles in his back, twitching at my touch, and then the curve of his ass. Verin jerked forward against me when I grabbed him there, and I laughed more. He growled into my mouth and set to consuming me. I didn't fight it; I let the Dragon feast and felt damn grateful when it was over. If I never held him again, at least I'd have this.
I leaned back and looked up into the Blue Dragon's exotically handsome face. “Maybe a bird and a fish, if their love is strong enough, can make a home together after all.”
Verin smiled softly and stroked my cheek then he stepped back and vanished.
Chapter Fifty-Six
“So, what did you really do with the knife?” Slate asked me.
We were in the crystal palace, out on the bedroom's balcony, enjoying the “moonlit” view of the garden, which had flourished even as its master had succumbed to divine possession. The other men were in guest rooms, including Cerberus. Darc had returned from Zuja empty-handed and as relieved as I to see the last of that Jinni. We'd go home to Tír na nÓg in the morning—there was much there that had been neglected during the Slate incident and I still needed to lower the ward around the castle—but for tonight, I belonged to the Zone Lord. And I was good with that.
I snuggled closer in Slate's arms before sighing and lifting my head to answer. “Before I met you, Torin, Banning, and I had a run-in with magic bombs.”
Slate stepped back. “Say that again.”
“The Copper King—the previous Copper King,” I amended, “found a way to create a bomb that destroyed magic. I won't go into the details of it, but Darc and Torin recreated the bombs to kill Gargo.”
“You used a magic bomb to kill a God?” Slate lifted his brows.
“But we're not sure if it worked.” I grimaced. “It's a little hard to tell, what with Gargo being in spirit form. And in that box.”
“Hold on.” He held up a hand. “Let me get this straight. You stabbed me with that dagger which sucked Gargo's soul out of me then you put it in a steel box?”
“With a bomb.” I nodded. “They activated the bomb, set in beside the dagger, and Declan wrapped them both in steel.”
“Then Darc added a layer of water and Declan added another layer of steel?”
“Yes.”
“Just in case this magic bomb didn't destroy Gargo.”
“Yes.”
“But it's unlikely that he survived?”
“Yes. Highly unlikely. Gargo's soul was in the dagger and the dagger definitely would have been destroyed by the bomb. At least, the magic in it would have been and a lot of the magic inside it was Gargo.”
Slate let out a long breath and grinned. “That's a huge relief.”
“It is?”
“I would have worried about Gargo getting out of that damn box for the rest of my life. But at least now I know it's unlikely that he's even in the box.”
“Sort of like Schrodinger's Cat,” I said with a grin. “We won't know if Gargo is alive or dead until we open the box. Which we'll never do. So, I guess he will forever be neither.”
Slate laughed. “Tanager's God.”
“What?”
“Instead of Schrodinger's Cat,” Slate said as if it were obvious.
“Ah. Yes, it has a nice ring to it.”
Except it should be the Cock Collective's God, RS interjected. Since it was all of you together who got the God in the box.
Could you refrain from ruining their romantic reunion? Kyanite snapped.
How did I ruin it?
By simply speaking you ruin it but especially by calling them that absurd name.
“We are not the Cock Collective,” Slate could barely say it with a straight face.
See? Ky huffed. You've angered the Zone Lord.
Oh, whatever.
“Could you both please go away until morning?” I begged.
Yes. Of course, my love, Kyanite said immediately. You won't hear a peep from us for the rest of the night. Right, RS? He growled the last bit.
Fine, RS sighed dramatically. But I'm partially responsible for this reunion.
How exactly are you responsible? Kyanite scoffed.
Without me, we wouldn't have had Verin with us, and without the Grexer, we wouldn't have gotten Slate back.
I don't think that's accurate, Kyanite said dryly.
“Go away!” I nearly screamed.
They both went silent, and Slate chuckled.
“Watching you argue with the voices in your head is surprisingly arousing,” Slate declared.
I snorted.
“Snorting is less so.”
My snort turned into a laugh. Then I went serious. “I missed you.”
“I missed you more,” Slate's expression went grave. “At first, I didn't even know Gargo was there. I thought I was just going through a phase or perhaps still recovering from the battle. I just felt... off. Then it got worse; I was so angry. When you sang to me, Gargo retreated and then, when you fed me Darc's blood, it felt as if he had left completely. I felt like myself again. I thought I was in the clear but he was only biding his time. Gargo came back even stronger, and I knew he'd never leave. My only comfort was that you escaped him.”
“Because of you.” I went back into his arms. “You saved me. Twice. Thank you.”
“I love you, El. Nothing's stronger than that.”
“Not even a God.” I stretched up to kiss him quickly. “In fact, I think your love for me made it possible for us to beat Gargo.”
Slate nodded. “I think it helped. I watched him change or felt it, rather. Heard it.” Slate shook his head as if to clear it from unwanted thoughts. “The things he would think about you, sweetheart. It was hell to listen to.”
“Do you want to talk about it? Unload a bit?”
Slate shrugged. “He's dead, that makes the memories easier to bear.”
“I don't mind listening.”
Slate sighed and leaned against the crystal railing. “What happens when a creature beyond the capability to love, one who has never experienced it, even for himself, is filled by the emotion?”
“I don't know; we wondered.”
“You and the others talked about it?” Slate asked in surprise.
“It was clear that Gargo was changing; he said as much.”
“Right.” Slate made a bitter sound. “Well, at first, he was scornful of the emotion. Then, as time passed and it affected him, he got angry. He fought it. When he lost that battle, he accepted it, but not as a normal man would. Gargo let my love for you into his soul only so he could twist it to his liking. He wanted you for base reasons only and took great pleasure in imagining all of the ways he'd satisfy his urges, just to torment me.”
“Slate, I'm so sorry this happened to you.”
“Bad things happen.” He shrugged. “This one was particularly bad. But we overcame it and that's something to be proud of. If we can exorcise a God from his host and kill him, we're pretty badass, sweetheart.”
I laughed delightedly. “I guess we are.”
Because of me, RS interjected.
“Go away!” Slate and I growled together.
Sheesh, no appreciation, she grumbled but then went silent.
Slate and I laughed again but our amusement quickly shifted. We quieted and just gazed at each other.
“You're safe and here with me,” Slate said as if to convince himself.
“And you're alive and Gargo-free.”
Slate's palm went to my cheek and his forehead to mine. My hand laid atop his chest, his heart beating steadily beneath it. The rhythm started to increase, and I looked up, my face sliding against his, and met his lips. With a groan, Slate picked me up and started to carry me inside.
“No,” I stopped him. “I want you here, where we can
see your zone and truly celebrate our victory.”
Slate growled and lifted me onto the railing. We were dressed for bed, both of us in silk robes and nothing else, so getting at each other was fairly simple. A few tugs and shrugs and the robes were off. Slate's mouth hurried back to mine, and we groaned and growled our way through a wild kiss as we undulated against each other passionately. I swept my hands over Slate's broad shoulders, gripping his thick biceps as he supported my back. His chest pushed me out to lean into the open air, but I didn't feel any fear. I trusted him to hold me; to keep me safe. He'd proven damn good at it so far.