After planting a kiss on Mikail's cheek in greeting, the three-year-old promptly stuck her thumb in her mouth and cast a mischievous smirk up at her sister descending the stairs—and Kivsey couldn't stop staring.
Nevan was a tall, shapely woman with glowing lilac eyes and long, straight white hair she hadn't bothered to pin back. In her hand was a doll that she held up before mentioning, “You left this upstairs, and you know how much trouble I'll have putting you to bed without it.”
Immediately, Vita reached for the doll, her tiny fingers clenching in a manner that said gimme!
At the landing, Nevan handed it over, though she forgot to let go in spying the human standing near the door, staring the same way everyone else had up to that point—and Kivsey could only think one thing.
Guess I better get used to it.
“Mikail?” Nevan started uncertainly. “Why is there a half elf in your living room?”
“It's okay, Nevan,” he started, realizing he was going to have to get used to explaining Kivsey's presence for the duration of her stay. So he offered the same information he'd given Gallos, knowing the entire while that if Nevan had a problem with their visitor, she'd say so outright to establish their boundaries.
Yet she seemed much more focused on the incident that stranded Kivsey at The Nexus, rolling her eyes the moment she learned how the portal sphere was broken.
“Filthy ogres,” she all but growled, turning her gaze in Kivsey's direction. “Did Mikail take you to see the Council yet?”
“We went to the Council Chamber, but only met with Chancellor Gallos.” she replied. “He said he'd send someone to The Nexus tonight.”
As if Kivsey's answer reminded Nevan of something important, the Dok'aal suddenly snapped her fingers and looked up at Mikail. “Did he tell you about my aunts and the usurper?”
Placing Vita on the floor when the child started squirming with the desire to chase Claws around, he answered with a silent nod of confirmation.
In turn, Nevan mentioned, “It's hard to imagine the prophecy coming true after all this time.”
“What prophecy?” Kivsey asked, reminding Mikail that he'd never explained his conversation with Gallos.
So he started, “A prophecy was foretold five hundred years ago about an enchantress who'd usurp the Steward of Perosia. Gallos was telling me that she's on her Calling now, meaning it could come true any time.”
“Her Calling? Isn't that the quest where mages craft a staff?”
Mikail nodded. All mage apprentices had to undertake The Final Calling if they wanted to complete their training, and Kivsey seemed to understand the basics, though her next question wasn't a popular subject.
“And who's the Steward of Perosia she's supposed to usurp?”
Mikail and Nevan both sneered before the latter answered, “He's a tyrannical bastard named Rothario who's subjugated what's left of our people living in Perosia. A thousand years ago, their Imperial Family was assassinated by misguided Dok'aal warriors, so he deemed us too untrustworthy to be given freedom.”
Kivsey stared in disgust, mentioning, “Then I hope this mage kicks his ass so hard there's an earthquake in Terra.”
A smirk graced Nevan's lips, proving she both agreed, and was amused by the human's suggestion.
“Indeed,” she started. “That's why some of our people left to help her, and with any luck, we'll hear from them soon.”
Mikail hoped that would turn out to be the case as well. Gallos mentioned that the person who'd departed to assist the usurper was Lia—a promising prospect. He didn't know the Perosian demoness personally, but Lia was renowned as one of the most skilled warriors in the city.
So if anyone could help the enchantress, it was her.
But he didn't say so, too busy watching Nevan lift Vita from the floor when the child let a loud yawn at her feet.
“Anyway, we have to go. Vita skipped her nap today, and needs to go to bed earlier than usual.”
Likewise, Mikail couldn't say the thought of turning in early was a bad idea after their journey—a sentiment Kivsey concurred with in stating, “All that walking wore me out, too. So I might just follow suit.”
As she spoke, Nevan carried her sister to the door and mentioned, “I can imagine. The Nexus isn't very close. Oh, and I nearly forgot.”
Stopping at the door, she turned around to inform Mikail, “The deadline for entering the competitions is tonight, and the lists were getting full last I checked, but they wouldn't let me register your name. So if you're still planning to participate, you might want to get down to the arena as soon as possible.”
Under normal circumstances, Mikail would've groaned in frustration. But a strong sense of surprise stopped the sound in its tracks when he realized he'd completely forgotten about the wrestling competitions. One of his reasons for hurrying home was to get there in time to register, and it would've been easy to dismiss his inattention as a result of being too preoccupied to consider it during his journey with Kivsey.
But something deep down told him it wasn't as simple as that.
Still, he thanked Nevan for the information as she departed, only to find Kivsey asking, “What competition is she talking about?”
“I'll explain later,” he replied, looking back to direct, “just stay here until I return. It won't take long.”
“Sure,” she agreed, shooing him away with a wave of her hands as if she didn't want him to linger and miss his chance.
Smiling, Mikail stepped outside and shut the door, though he hesitated before departing, and wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the worry of leaving Kivsey alone so soon after they'd arrived. It was doubtful anyone would visit his home for a confrontation, and even if they did, she proven herself clever enough to diffuse a volatile situation until he returned.
But even with the reassuring thoughts in mind, a sliver of uncertainty remained as he forced himself from the door—and the further away from home he got, the stronger it grew.
Somehow, he simply couldn't shake the strange sense that registering for the competition now felt … pointless.
As if he already had everything he needed.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
♦
“Guess it's just you and me, Claws.”
Muttering the words after the door shut on Mikail, Kivsey wondered what she might do to kill time until her host returned and explained this mysterious competition. The options were limited after all, but it didn't really matter. There were only two activities that truly seemed promising—eating and sleeping—and as far as the latter went, the chaise sofa looked like a perfect makeshift bed.
But the moment she turned away from the door and looked down at the cat, she realized she didn't have the time to test that theory. Instead, she found Claws sniffing a stuffed doll laying on the floor.
Vita's stuffed doll.
“Oh no,” Kivsey drew out, grabbing the item before glancing at the door. Nevan had mentioned Vita's trouble sleeping without it, and they may not realize she'd left it behind until they were home.
Yet Mikail had asked Kivsey to stay inside, and her safety would be on the line if she tried to return it. But how far away could the sisters be now? Uncertain, Kivsey took the doll to the door and stepped out to peer down the street. With any luck, they hadn't made it too far away, and she could return the toy without anyone knowing she'd left.
As it turned out, the roadway was rather devoid of people, save for a single Dok'aal carrying her baby sister toward an alley several meters away.
Nevan.
Immediately, Kivsey called her name, but it seemed the woman was out of hearing range because she disappeared around the corner without stopping. Still, the lack of people around made it seem safe enough to traverse the road without much worry, so she quickly descended the stairs to follow, and reached the same alley only moments later, calling, “Nevan, wait!”
Just a short distance ahead, the Dok'aal finally came to an abrupt stop, turning around as Kivsey reached her.
Holding out the doll, she explained, “Vita left this on the floor in Mikail's living room.”
Seeing the item, Nevan rolled her lilac eyes and chided her sister. “You're just trying to make things difficult, aren't you?”
Kivsey chuckled. “That's a toddler for you. I don't have siblings, but my cousin had twins, and babysitting was never dull.”
Nevan smirked, and as Vita took the doll to hug tight, the little girl whispered, “Thank you.”
“You're very welcome,” Kivsey returned with a smile, then looked up to see that Nevan was giving her a scrutinizing look.
At first, it seemed as though she was surprised a half elf would be so eager to help. But if so, she didn't comment on it, and asked instead, “Are those your only clothes?”
Giving her torn blouse and dirty slacks a once over, Kivsey nodded. “Yeah, until I get back home, I'll be stuck in this mess.”
Thoughtfully, the Dok'aal qualified, “I have a few things I don't wear often that I can drop off.”
“Oh, that's okay. I don't even know how long I'll be here, so there's no need to trouble yourself.”
Sincerely, Nevan pointed out, “Trust me, if it was trouble, I wouldn't have offered. So I'll bring them by tomorrow. But you should get back to Mikail's for now. It won't take long for people to realize you're part elven, and some will want to confront you regardless of how human Mikail says you are.”
“Right. Guess I'll see you tomorrow then,” Kivsey agreed, then waved at Vita with a playful, “Bye!”
Waving her free hand, the child continued sucking her thumb as they parted ways, and Kivsey returned to the street that connected with Mikail's home in quick time. Thankfully, the path was just as barren now as when she'd left to find Nevan—or at least, it appeared to be.
But in nearing her destination, she slowed down when three Dok'aal emerged from the shadows around the foot of the stairs leading to Mikail's home.
Upon closer inspection, she realized most of them were young, perhaps in their late teens or early twenties. Furthermore? They were staring at her unflinchingly with glowing eyes of various colors.
Oh boy … .
Whatever their intentions, she knew a welcome wagon wasn't about to pull up and offer a bouquet of flowers and balloons. Additionally, they'd blocked the stairs she needed to access, forcing Kivsey to stop and ask if she could pass.
“Pardon me, I need to go upstairs,” she remarked in coming to a stop about five feet away.
But neither Dok'aal spoke, or made any attempts to let her through.
A knot of dread formed in the pit of her stomach, urging her to put some space between herself and the group in realizing they didn't intend to cooperate. But she forced herself to wait another moment, and when nothing happened, she finally shrugged with a little smile, then turned to head down the adjacent alley, deciding there had to be an alternative path to take.
Not that she was optimistic about finding it before getting stopped again.
After all, their appearance at the foot of the steps proved they'd cloaked themselves in shadow to slip by undetected and block her path. So there was no telling if anyone else was currently darkwalking in wait of getting her far enough away from Mikail's home to confront her without being seen.
The thought made her decision to slip through the closest alley seem like a mistake. Instead, she should've gone to the square where more people might mean less of a chance that someone would attack.
But as it turned out, the square might be her only option because, at the end of her current route were two paths, and the one leading toward Mikail's home was blocked by three more Dok'aal, all about the same age as the first.
Knowing she'd get the same response as before, she didn't bother asking for permission to pass, and instead, immediately turned in the direction of the square in the hopes of finding an outlet.
But sadly, there was only a dead end.
Coming to a stop in a wide area surrounded by walls and several waste bins, the scent of food and the sound of chattering drifted over the walls, proving the square was just on the other side. But the bins weren't high enough to allow her to reach the top of the wall and climb over.
Even if they were, the appearance of another man exiting the shadows ahead prevented her from reaching them.
That knot of dread in the pit of her stomach suddenly grew bigger, particularly in glancing back at the sole exit from the alley to find that the others had followed. Yet she wasn't concerned for her own safety.
Instead, the real worry was in what this confrontation could ultimately mean, as she had no wish to argue, fight, or engage these Dok'aal outside of a simple conversation.
But judging by their expressions, chatting was the last thing on their minds.
Now surrounded by seven Dok'aal, she took a deep breath and considered her options. If it wasn't possible to talk her way out of this, she'd need a plan of escape—and the flashlight on her belt was the first thing that came to mind.
It was still hidden under the hem of her shirt, meaning they had no idea such a device was in her possession. So if push came to shove, she could use it to blind them, then make a beeline to the exit and leave the flashlight on to preclude the possibility of anyone else darkwalking around her on the way to Mikail's home.
But she wouldn't resort to such tactics unless she had to, and as they drew in closer, she asked, “I guess the fact that I'm about two percent elven doesn't make me very popular, huh?”
Surprisingly, the group came to a stop once they were five feet away, giving the impression they wanted to ask about her heritage. But instead, one of the men inquired, “Are you Mikail's mate?”
The question seemed oddly personal, but some gut instinct told Kivsey to answer yes—they'd probably only accept her presence if she had a fated connection to one of their own. Otherwise, they wouldn't have taken the time to ask.
But she couldn't tell such a boldfaced lie, even if it meant having her ass handed to her on a silver platter. So she shook her head in the negative.
“No, I'm not.”
In response, they all exchanged glances as if in silent agreement—then converged on her position.
Immediately, Kivsey pulled the hem of her shirt above her flashlight and prepared for the worst, making a final plea to talk that she knew wouldn't convince anyone.
But just as abruptly as they'd started, the group stopped in their tracks.
Kivsey blinked, taking in each of their stunned expressions, then glanced down at her belt. It was hard to believe her flashlight could inspire such hesitation, but there they were, completely motionless and staring in uncertain reluctance to come closer.
And she wasn't complaining. Afraid of the light or not, I'll take what I can get.
“That's better,” she started, nearly adding that she didn't want to cause any problems.
Yet it quickly became clear that they weren't exactly staring at her. Instead, their gazes were traveling just above her head—as if someone was standing behind her. Mikail?
Had the Warlord returned from registration just in time to stop them? As Kivsey questioned it, and before she could turn around to find out, an unfamiliar voice that was deeper in pitch than any she'd ever heard before spoke to the group.
“I sincerely hope the seven of you aren't ganging up on a single half elf to gain some sense of superiority.”
Kivsey spun around to find herself face-to-chest with a Perosian demon. Of course, she didn't actually realize he was a demon until she turned her gaze up to spy two thick, black horns jutting from a crown of long, silken black hair.
Furthermore, he had skin so pale it was nearly a snowy white.
Yet he paid her little attention, his onyx eyes focused on the group that had followed her into the alley, and she remained silent when one of them replied.
“We're sorry, Arias! We just—”
The Dok'aal stopped speaking when Arias lifted a hand, looking completely disinterested in hearing wha
tever he had to say.
“You've no need to explain. So why don't we just take the easiest route and continue our day as if this never happened, hmm?”
Kivsey looked back to see them nodding in agreement, and just as quickly as they'd followed her into the alley, the group disappeared.
Watching them go, she somehow got the feeling it would be in her own best interest to vacate the area as well. Yet she hesitated for two reasons, the first being her uncertainty that this incident wouldn't repeat itself before she reached Mikail's home.
Secondly, she wanted to thank the Perosian, even if he hadn't specifically intended to help her.
So she turned her gaze up and offered a small smile. “Thanks. I really hoped that wouldn't end badly.”
The demon didn't respond at first, stepping around her to eye the end of the alley as if making certain the others had vacated the area. But he faced her soon enough, regarding her curiously while asking, “You're not from around here, are you?”
Finally, Kivsey's smile grew bigger. “What gave it away?”
It was heartening to see him smirk at her sarcasm, though she didn't allow herself to relax entirely. Perosian demons were one of the most powerful immortal races around, and though they weren't inherently malicious, many found it amusing to scare or otherwise torment mortals such as herself.
Still, this one didn't seem remotely interested in either of those things when he answered, “Oh, just taking a shot in the dark.”
She snorted at the double meaning. “Good one. But I should probably go before someone else decides my ass is fair game for kicking.”
At that, Kivsey attempted to walk around Arias, but found him holding out a hand to block her path, replying, “I don't believe you should travel alone, at least, not until you've earned a more credible reputation.”
“No, probably not. But what choice do I have? I mean, unless you're free.”
In response to her suggestion, the Perosian looked around as if gauging the current situation, then cast his onyx gaze back down and shrugged a single shoulder.
“I don't seem to be engaged in any current affairs,” he remarked, turning to offer an arm in a gentlemanly fashion. “So shall we?”
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