by Thia Mackin
“A word of warning, Kinan: Mom is going to be silently, obviously disappointed that you skipped out in the middle of the night. It won’t matter that you were trying to protect the family, especially since you trampled a number of plants in her garden that you are now obligated to help her tend once you heal. I, on the other hand, am tempted to be vocally offended that you fled toward danger with no apparent plan while still feverish and wounded despite knowing that I have at minimum some military ability.”
“I—,” I tried, fumbling over something—anything—that might soothe the frustration in his voice. His anger rubbed my Void-borrowed calm like sandpaper on skin. The hum of my pain sounded closer and louder, like a stampede approaching, and panic touched the edges of my emotions.
“Not now, Kinan. Give me a few days, maybe a month, to forget that you were shot in the chest multiple times while my men and I were forced to watch and wait. Especially since our scouts had already reported that group’s movements three hours ago, allowing us to set up some damn fine illusions to close a trap that you nearly set off with your escape.” Only the teeth-clenching emphasis on specific words hinted at the temper he contained.
“I’m sorry.”
He didn’t reply as he silently handed me to one of his soldiers; the man held me patiently like I was a five-foot-ten-inch child as Rankar mounted one of the horses hidden beyond sight of the ambush. Obviously, my rescuers had literally followed my trail from the ranch to here. Then the man handed me up into Rankar’s arms so that I sat across his lap on the saddle.
Swallowing hard, I rested my forehead against the shoulder of the stranger holding me. What in the name of the Goddess had happened to my life? She had sent me a vision to save lives, but dozens had still been killed. Her next vision was supposed to save the life of a family, but it cost me Romtal. Worse, his death was pointless. Had I ignored my Gift, he would still be safely ensconced in the Sirachs’ barn as the family handled the situation.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, an apology to everyone. My center slipped a little farther, and the pain—mental and physical—edged forward. I blinked back the tears.
“I know,” was his only answer as he hugged me.
Then we rode into a Gate to come out directly in front of Karyn’s home. Only days before, I had dismounted into a heap in almost the same spot. Now, Rankar slid me down into the arms of a tall man waiting just outside the fence. Like the rest of the family, the newcomer was blonde and attractive, though younger.
Rankar’s dismount was much more graceful than mine had been, I noticed as he moved to trade the reins for me. “Are you serious?” the guy asked, earning an angry look from the man carrying me instead of an answer. “I see.”
He wasn’t the only one. As Rankar’s ground-eating stride took us back around the side of the house and into the same blasted door I had exited earlier, I realized why the new Tuatha de’s posture and intonation was familiar. “He’s your brother.”
“Yes. Asher. Likely, Xander is in the kitchen with Dad, keeping him sane while Mom does her domestic-y things.” The sound of the door closing was loud enough that everyone in a four-mile radius probably heard it slam. I winced, and the pain escalated in my leg as the Void slipped a little more—though he’d not hurt me. Mentally, I gripped my center, needing it to hold until they left me alone.
“Your Gift over fire is impressive,” I tried again, wondering if squirming would get him to set me down. While he touched me, my equilibrium tilted. The Void slid away at an alarming rate as his anger continued to abrade the surface of my calm.
“Yep.” Rankar paused beside the chair, depositing the gun and bow from my lap. Then he undid the sword belt at my waist with one hand and held me away from his body so it could fall to the floor.
Karyn Sirach’s voice—stern, worried, sad—interrupted whatever inanity I was going to mutter next. “Xander made coffee. You can both have some once you shower. Rankar, help her across the hall, please, before you go use the upstairs bathroom. The water in both is already warm, and there is a seat waiting on Ms. Kinan to keep her from falling on her face.”
As per usual, Rankar immediately followed her directions. He carried me into the hallway, turning sideways to fit through the doorway. Just across from the solarium, the sound of running water could be heard through a closed door. He opened it and stepped inside, pausing as he pulled open the curtain.
“Kinan, will you need help undressing?”
Flustered at the thought of anyone taking my clothes off, my brain froze until he moved the hand from behind my back to actually reach for the hem of the shirt. “No. No, I can do it.”
He nodded, set me beneath the stream of water fully clothed, and closed the curtain then the door behind him as he left.
I didn’t cry, but it was a close thing as my center disappeared. Only the frustration at wearing soaking clothes and the rush of pain in my chest and leg held the tears back. Lifting my butt from the chair, I slid the jogging pants down my legs, leaving them in a pile at my feet. Then I pulled the shirt over my head, wrestling with the water-saturated cloth for a second before dropping it with the rest of the clothes. As I grabbed the soap and began scrubbing, I unclenched my teeth.
“Good job, Kinan. You killed your only friend, and the rest of the world hates you.”
The chirp that came from beside me almost toppled me out of the tub. Somehow, one of Rankar’s pets had joined me. “What in the name of…?”
::Sad. Worry.:: The thing told me, cheeping as it projected each word. ::Mad.:: It—he, I corrected—nodded as he told me something I already knew. ::Like. No hate.:: Every emotion the creature described was projected at me, as though he wasn’t sure we spoke the same language and wanted to express what he meant.
Though people off-Terra often had the dragonesque critters as pets, I sometimes spent months each year around unEnlightened humans who knew nothing about Planes or the paranormal to risk one Gating in at an inopportune time. Now, this little guy was trying to reassure me. I hadn’t even realized that drakyn could communicate with people who weren’t their bonded.
As I reached to touch him, his head turned to the door. Instantly, his back legs bunched as he threw himself into the air and disappeared. I felt bad for wherever he came out, as a stream of water likely went with him. Then the bathroom door opened, and Karyn entered with a bath sheet.
Without comment, she reached inside the shower, turned off the water, and opened the curtain. Handing me one corner of the towel, she took the other and began drying off my legs. Within minutes, she had bundled me in another large tee and half-carried me across the hall. Better still, the promised coffee was steaming on the improvised nightstand. “Well, you didn’t tear your stitches, but you are going to be weak as a newborn filly. Your cup has something for the pain and to keep that fever from spiking twice as high,” she fussed, tucking me into the bed.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Sirach. I acted without thinking.”
Rankar had been right, damn him. His mom was disappointed and hurt.
Karyn stopped fiddling with the covers, moved to the table, and handed me the coffee mug and a bowl of soup. “We all do, once in a while. Next time, though, talk to us before you head off without a word. You might be surprised by what this family can accomplish.”
I sipped the coffee, found it warm but not hot, and drank half before setting it on the nightstand. My smile was self-deprecating as I stirred the soup, mostly because I knew myself. “I don’t want to make a promise that I can’t keep. I’ve been on my own for years. I do promise that I will try not to endanger this family again.”
“She isn’t worried about us, Kinan,” Rankar stated from the doorway, holding a steaming mug between his palms. “Mom trained us kids from an early age not to bite off more than we can chew.”
For a moment, fondness for her children shone in her eyes as she glanced at Rankar. “Some of them learned more quickly than others,” Karyn admitted, patting her son’s arm as she moved tow
ard the door. “We should all try to get some rest. In the morning, you can actually have breakfast. Mycal will hunt down a pair of crutches, and we’ll decide whether you are well enough to use them at that time. Then we’ll start strengthening your leg.” She ducked through the doorway, not even saying goodnight.
My eyes found Rankar’s. He already watched me, his right arm held loosely at his side as he sipped his coffee.
“You didn’t tell her you promised to escort me elsewhere once I stopped bleeding.”
Though the ground I was standing on was shaky at best, my tone was still accusatory. He had made a promise, and he wasn’t holding his end of the bargain.
Resting his shoulder against the door frame, he couldn’t have appeared more at ease if he had tried. Hell, maybe he was trying. Trying to tick me off, I amended as he cocked an eyebrow at me.
“If I remember right, what I said was ‘if you have somewhere else to go.’ Do you?”
My molars clenched. “Godsdamnit, anywhere is better than here!”
His subtle flinch immediately damped the smoldering fire of my anger. As I covered my eyes with my hand, I watched my fingers trembling from the force of my emotions.
“That isn’t what I mean, Rankar. Honest to goodness, the Goddess couldn’t have favored me more than the moment when She dumped me in front of your house, but I’m bad luck. I’ve been here three days, and I’ve nearly gotten your family and your people killed. Those men were going to burn the buildings to the ground and kill everyone they found, all because you were unfortunate enough to have me crash half-dead on your doorstep.” Dropping flat on the bed, I kept my hand over my eyes. “I need to be somewhere that my presence doesn’t endanger innocent people.”
Strong, callused fingers locked around my wrist, and the edge of the bed dipped as he sat beside me. “Sarki Kinan, you don’t know my mom, my siblings, or myself, so I’ll give you a pass this once.” He moved my hand to my chest, but he kept his palm covering it. “My mother is much stronger—and older, but don’t you dare tell her I told you—than she appears. ‘Your healer can take you apart as easily as they put you back together.’ Didn’t anyone ever tell you that? My father is a powerful man in more ways than one, especially if you enjoy breathing. My older brother and I have spent the majority of our lives in the military. My three younger siblings have Gifts that would make the weak at heart faint in fear. I’m not joking when I say that I’ve often believed that the five acres that the house and stables sit on is the safest stretch of property on any Plane.” He shook his head, squeezing my hand at the same time. “I realize that this is not what you are used to. My family is extraordinary, even by the standards of the Tuatha de Danaan. We’ve lived on this piece of land for more than a hundred years, and we’ve had time to fortify it. Your presence or lack thereof is not going to change anything.”
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, a couple seconds passed before my voice found its way free. “So you are saying you don’t plan to take me anywhere.”
He grinned, and I was reminded again that this man was a solid threat to my intelligence when his smile reached his eyes. “Nope. I’m saying that if you want to leave because you don’t want to be here—as opposed to wanting to split before some imagined danger threatens us—you have to be the one to tell my mom. Then you have to maintain your determination through her telling you exactly what she thinks of you leaving before you are fully healed. And might I remind you that you’ll be going with complete knowledge that you destroyed a number of herbs with your ill-conceived escape that she will have to repair alone once you leave. If you can withstand the guilt trip once she’s had her say, if you can look me in the eye and tell me you want to go somewhere else, I’ll Gate you there and carry your bags, too.”
His thumb stroked my wrist, and it was distracting as hell.
“You don’t fight fair.”
The expression on his face was downright devious. “Funnily enough, no one teaches classes on fighting fair. All the ones I’ve taken have been about winning.”
No diplomatic responses came to mind, so I didn’t say anything.
After a second, he continued. “You are far enough out of danger that you probably don’t need a chaperone, but if you think my staying is for the best, I’ll camp in the chair another night.”
Managing a smile was hard, but the corners of my mouth did tilt up. “Thank you, Rankar, but you’ve earned your sleep tonight. I’ll still be here in the morning.”
Standing, he released his grip on my hand, and the room cooled considerably. “If you need anything, just yell. My brother Xander’s room is next door. He’ll hear you and come to check on you. If something is wrong, he’ll get Mom.”
Curling up on my side as he moved toward the door, I watched his retreating back until he was almost out the door. “Thank you. For killing them all. And for Romtal.”
A glance over his shoulder showed me his somber expression. “I’m sorry we didn’t catch up sooner.”
I snorted. “Rankar, you didn’t even have a stake in the fight.”
“Actually, I did.”
Unsure what he meant, I would have asked if he hadn’t slipped out of the room and pulled the door partly closed as he went. Exhaling loudly, I ate a few spoonfuls of the soup before my stomach churned. Setting the bowl on the nightstand, I pulled one of the pillows against my chest and hugged it close. My last conscious thought was that I’d never be able to sleep.
Chapter 9
Music filtered through my consciousness, drawing me slowly to wakefulness. When I opened my eyes, sunlight glared through the windows of the room. Though I couldn’t see the sun, my senses assured me it was around noon. As in, the afternoon. Meaning I had slept beyond the time any normal being should have been awake and moving.
“Good afternoon,” an unfamiliar voice rubbed it in.
The man from the night before—Asher, Rankar had called him—sat in one of the chairs at the table near the window. His legs stretched for a mile, making him at least half a foot taller than his brother; his hair color reminded me of Rankar’s. His expression was pleasant and a little curious on the surface but also closed. I recognized the look, because it stared back at me in the mirror each time I stupidly peeked. This man had a secret that he didn’t tell anyone.
“Hello,” I finally managed. “I’m Kinan.”
Asher nodded, still plucking the strings of the instrument in his hand. Not a guitar but similar. “Ran introduced us while you were sleeping. He was called away to help with an emergency at Asez, but he’ll probably be back by the end of the week. I’m his younger brother Asher.”
Unsure why Rankar leaving without saying goodbye caused my stomach to drop, I dealt with it by ignoring the entire situation. Instead, I slipped my legs over the edge of the bed. As Karyn had predicted, my body complained about its mistreatment.
“Do you know if your mom cleared me to be up?”
He grinned, and the distance in his expression disappeared like magic. “It’s tough, isn’t it?” When I looked his way, his shoulder raised and dropped as he stood to bring me a pair of crutches that were waiting in the corner. “Being scared of a woman who is half your height.”
I returned the smile, levering myself up. “She might be half your height… Besides, everyone should have a healthy fear of crossing their healers.”
Though he appeared deeper in thought than adjusting the crutch legs would warrant, Asher didn’t say anything. Instead, he finished the task and cleared his throat. “Mom ordered me to make sure you eat and show you around, if you are up to the task. Dad is working, and Mom has a few other patients to check.”
The first few attempts to walk with the crutches could be categorized as miserable failures. Twice, Asher had to steady me before we entered the hallway. Then something in my brain must have synced, and walking suddenly wasn’t such a chore.
“So how did you wind up with babysitting duty?”
Asher glanced back over his shoulder, leading
me past a library, the family room, a den, and a number of closed doors to the kitchen that was on the opposite side of the house. “I volunteered, mostly out of curiosity. Plus—in order from oldest brother to youngest—Kismet has his wife and work, Rankar left for work, and Xander has his wife and work. My younger sister, Alika, had appointments this morning, and Mom is quite convincing.”
The chuckle escaped before I could stop it. “So she threatened you?”
He shook his head and stepped aside to let me enter the kitchen first. “I really did volunteer.”
Sinking into the chair he pulled out, I tried to catch my breath while looking around the room. Spacious and updated, the kitchen suited the large family, especially since Asher was apparently one of five adult children. “If you don’t like anything, don’t feel obligated to eat it. Mom wasn’t sure what you liked, so she made a variety of foods for our brunch,” he advised, setting a plate in front of me.
“Thank you. I’m not picky.” Wielding the fork like a sword, I stabbed bites of egg and sliced off chewable bites of sausage. Thank the Goddess, Asher was attacking his own plate of food, because my plate was empty in an embarrassingly short period of time. “So why did you volunteer?”
“Like I said, curiosity,” he replied between bites.
I opened my mouth, closed it. Though the question rattled in my brain, the ‘about what?’ didn’t emerge. More importantly, my new friend looked too damn innocent. Rankar controlled fire. What was this Sirach’s Gift?
“Asher, let’s make a deal. If one of us asks a question that the other doesn’t want to answer, we’ll pass. Otherwise, our interactions will become incredibly tense.”
He pushed his plate back, assessing me. I didn’t look away. “Deal.” Without further comment, he nabbed both plates, washed them, and put the leftovers into the fridge. “You’ve seen the public parts of the house. Would you rather tour the outside, watch TV, or sit on the patio for a bit?”