Hard Frost- Depths of Winter

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Hard Frost- Depths of Winter Page 11

by Thia Mackin


  Hypnos landed on the chair back, a leg on my shoulder to steady himself. His head rubbed against my ear, exactly like the catlike fenitals in Eliecha’s stables when they sought attention. ::Why ?!?:: The emotions he projected combined confusion, frustration, desire, and sadness. Oddly, he’d taken the jumble and helped me pinpoint the individual feelings.

  “It’s complicated,” I argued, scratching under his chin how he preferred.

  “What’s that?” Rankar asked, plating the first omelet.

  Looking back and forth between the blue drakyn and his bonded, I realized the creature could speak only to me even when Rankar was present. He hadn’t included his owner when asking me the question. “I—uh—was talking to Hypnos. How did he ask me a question without you hearing?”

  The man shrugged a shoulder, and I admired how the gray Army sweatpants hugged his ass. “It isn’t common, but he really seems to like you. A couple times this past week, I went to assign him a task to discover he’d already decided to visit you instead.” Luckily, humor outweighed the annoyance in his tone. Though inconvenient for him, he apparently didn’t begrudge me the company.

  “Thank you for lending him to me then. He’s somewhat chatty, but his stream of consciousness cancels out the quiet with your parents away. Even the horses are too quiet at times.”

  He grinned, carrying the plates over. “So what’s complicated?”

  I choked on the juice I’d sipped, and Rankar helpfully patted my back after slipping the plates onto the placemats. ::She ?!?.:: Hypnos helpfully conveyed, resending the concoction from earlier.

  Rankar’s hand trailed down my back as he waded through the mess. Then he sat in his chair beside me. “You’re right. That is complicated,” he agreed, picking up his fork to cut off a bite. His eyes didn’t meet mine.

  Shit. He didn’t understand. Frustration and a little anxiety filled me at him shutting me out. “Rankar, I—this—godsdamnit.” Pushing my plate back, I stood with the help of the chair. Hypnos leapt into the air and moved to the empty one across the table, but my sympathy for his inconvenience was nil. Instead, I limped the two feet between my chair and my lover’s.

  Everything on Rankar’s face screamed that he objected greatly to my walking without a crutch, but he pressed his lips together instead of berating me. I ignored his concern, using his shoulder to balance myself as I straddled his left leg and sat. Fingers under his chin, I held him still so I could meet his eyes with no interference.

  “I realize we are still virtually strangers. I don’t know you, and you don’t know me, and sex the likes of which I’ve never had before can’t magically make us understand one another. So three things need to be said, I think. First, if you shut down and I shut down, no one can turn us on. And it is really fun when we turn each other on.” His lips twitched, so I offered him a nervous smile myself. Goddess, I’m out of my depth.

  Breathing deeply, I continued at a faster clip. “Second, I have—and this is no exaggeration—never in my entire life voluntarily interacted with a drakyn for more than a single message. I have zero experience. None. I can say that in about thirty other languages if it will help you understand that you cannot take things your creatures say out of context, because having something able to meddle in my mind and feel emotions that I would never express externally really messes with my equilibrium.”

  Something I said killed the humor and shut down his expression again. Defeat sat on my chest, and my hand slid down to his throat to rest. However, I would finish the thought from sheer stubbornness now. This time, my words came slower and felt heavier as I said them. “Third, you keep telling me how safe this ranch is, but I have more than a decade of experience that assures me nowhere is safe and bad things happen to people I like. And I like you, Rankar. I like your family. So nothing you tell me is going to erase my fear that becoming attached to you places you in more danger.” Last chance, Kinan. “Putting that into context, can you perhaps see where those emotions are from?”

  He swallowed his bite of omelet and put his fork down. His hands rested on my hips, stabilizing me as his thumbs rubbed my hip bones gently. Whatever response first came to his mind, he refrained from speaking and instead seemed to choose his words carefully. “I know you have concerns. I know your instincts tell you that there’s constant danger to people you care about—that you are a constant danger to people you care about. A significant portion of your lived experience is that the next big bad thing is around the corner, lying in wait. I get that.”

  He paused briefly as he tried to word the next portion correctly; everything in me fought to argue, but I waited. Forced myself to keep my breathing even. I’d said my piece. He deserved to say his.

  “I trust you to handle yourself and to know your limits, even if it hurts me to see you exceed the restrictions on your healing injuries. We haven’t known one another long, but I trust you anyway. I need you to trust me, and my family, to know ourselves just as well. The ranch has been secure for over a century, and my mother has sunk her magic into every inch of this property. Each one of us has warded it to warn us of danger. I’ve patrolled every mile between here, Asez, and my home in Tucumcari. Karyn Donovan Sirach knows better than anyone the evil that lurks in the hearts of men and turns a home into a slaughterhouse, and she will never let it happen to her family again. A decade of training is a bear to overcome, but please, Kinan. I need you to try to believe that my family knows how to survive.”

  I held his gaze, processing his words, and the warmth in his brown eyes pulled me in. Goddess, I believed him. The curse that had followed me for more than ten years could end with him, if something came from this insane—I wouldn’t call it a relationship yet—that had wrapped us up. Once I healed, I could take up odd jobs in Mystor, maybe at the Banded Traveler, so we could continue this unconventional courtship without my overstaying my welcome here or being gone for months on end.

  Inhaling deeply, I tried to taste the strength of the decision. I’d change my lifestyle for what this could be? Realign my entire mindset? Exhaling, I leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Okay, Rankar.” Speaking the words reinforced my choice. “Yes.” A weight lifted from my shoulders, and my lips pulled into a grin. “I won’t sabotage this with my fears. I trust you, and I’ll trust your wards. And you’ll forgive me if I’m hit by my fears at inconvenient moments, like as we sit down to breakfast, as long as I remember this conversation?”

  This time, he kissed me. “That is an acceptable beginning, I think.”

  Probably as much to keep me from walking back to my chair as for the closeness, Rankar helped me shift to his right leg, and we ate together in silence. Tending the horses afterward went much more quickly with his assistance. Then he helped me with my physical therapy exercises and a shower. As we sat reading together later, I realized I was going to miss the hell out of him when he left.

  The next morning, his lips touched my forehead before covering my mouth. “See you soon, Kinan.” His murmured goodbye caused my eyes to open immediately, but he’d already Gated out. Dammit. Curling my fist under the pillow, I stared at the place where he’d disappeared for a moment before forcing myself up. Slowly, I cleaned his bedroom and made the bed before heading to my own room for another couple hours of sleep.

  The smell of food cooking brought me to consciousness. Dressing quickly, I crutched to the kitchen. Karyn Sirach—not Rankar—stood at the stove, her back to me as she added ingredients to a stewpot. “Good morning, Kinan. How’s your leg feeling?”

  Awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, my eyes scanned every surface, looking for evidence that would cause her to kick me out and disown her son. Nothing apparent.

  After clearing my throat, I answered. “I can see improvement. The physical therapy is definitely helping.” Words caught in my throat for a moment, nervousness filtering through. “How was your trip?”

  She glanced over her shoulder, and I forced myself to meet her gaze as she visually checked me over. �
��You do seem to be standing better, and my trip went well. I trust no issues arose here?”

  Setting the ladle on a plate beside the stove—on the counter where Rankar had set me—she moved to the sink to wash her hands. I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “I—uh—didn’t kill any of the plants, which I think is a win. I borrowed a couple books from the library and piddled in the stables some. Oh, and Rankar stopped in day before yesterday and stayed a while. No issues. Everything is good.”

  “Did you two have a nice time?” she asked, back toward me again.

  Crutching to the table, I pulled out a chair and sat down. “He cooks well, which is great since I can’t cook at all and wouldn’t have had enough prepared meals to get us both through.” My cheeks heated up as I recalled what had happened after that first meal. Dammit, Kinan, pull it together. “The company was nice.” While completely factual, I somehow felt like the lies of omission stacked against me. I mean, telling a healer the truth really only had to do with one’s health and wellbeing, not if one lost one’s virginity to her son. Right?

  “Excellent. Mycal will be home tonight, too, so we’ll have dinner late. And this will be ready in time for lunch, but there are a few things in the refrigerator to tide you over.”

  Thanking her, I put together a quick snack. “Do you need anything from the garden before I head to the stables?”

  “Thank you, Kinan, but I grabbed what I needed this morning when I checked on the plants.”

  I moved toward the door, silently releasing the breath I’d been holding.

  “Oh, Kinan? Could you remind Rankar, if you see him before I do, that the vinegar goes on the bottom left shelf in the pantry, not under the sink with the cleaning products?”

  She knows. Mumbling an affirmative, I moved toward the door and decided I was never leaving the stables again.

  Karyn didn’t typically go in there.

  Knuckles rapping against wood caught my attention, and I paused in brushing and trimming the cockleburs out of Cliff’s coat to glance up. Mycal grinned at me, inviting me to appreciate the humor in the situation, but I’d nursed a whole lot of grumpy since breakfast. That he looked in that moment like his son, who’d abandoned me to his all-knowing mother, probably didn’t help. “Welcome home,” I grumbled, releasing the wiggling dog to go greet his owner as I began cleaning up the hair to dump outside for the birds to use in their nests.

  “Thank you, Kinan. I’d ask how you are, but your healer says you are doing much better.”

  He was bent over, petting both Trouble and Cliff as they happily moved around his legs, rubbing white hairs all over his pants despite the grooming I’d given them just now. He didn’t see the side-eye I sent his way. Had Karyn told him?

  “We appreciate the work you put in, especially here in the stables. I’ve got a couple canes that might suit you better than the crutches, especially in the coming weeks.”

  I relaxed slightly, realizing perhaps I’d read something in his words that had not been there. Maybe I was overly sensitive due to lack of experience with situations like this.

  “Ryn thought you might conveniently forget about supper in light of your earlier embarrassment, so she recommended I remind you. Since I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in nearly a week, please shower quickly.” He patted each dog one last time and turned toward the door.

  She’d definitely told him. Mortified that they knew something so personal, I hesitated. No, I worried more that they didn’t approve. “Mycal?” I choked as I stood, hands full of fuzzy white dog fur. He paused, looking over his shoulder. “I—uh—is she upset that we—about us?”

  His thoughtful hum worried me. “You two are adults, and you’re allowed to make your own choices. She respects that.” I exhaled softly. Then he grinned and winked at me. “Besides, you seem to have good taste if you chose our son.”

  Flames lit my face on fire as he wandered, whistling, toward the house. I followed, crutching at a much slower pace, and entered through the door near the stillroom.

  I showered quickly but had to brace myself before entering the kitchen. The warm laughter drifting through the door reminded me of Eliecha and Triswon, whom I needed to visit soon to show I was okay and healing. Some of the anxiety drained. At least Karyn hadn’t kicked me out or disowned Rankar.

  Dishes covered the table, and three place settings waited. Karyn and Mycal stood together near the sink, conversing in Welsh. Despite my daily forays into the language, only that they spoke it was recognizable. Their words flowed so quickly, so fluidly it would take me some long months to gain the fluency required to follow their personal conversations. Sometimes, remembering there was a difference between their Terran identities and their true names was hard enough.

  Per normal, as soon as they realized I entered, they changed to English. Mycal made his plate and sat down, and we followed suit. When I realized they discussed politics, I tuned them out. My first few nights at the table, they’d explained that New Mexico had unknowingly elected a number of paranormal officials, including Democratic Governor Domingo Martinez—also a Tuatha de Danaan—and Independent Senator Michael Simmons. Everyone in this house used forged identities. Under his alias, Mycal had been in sessions since September 7th, so a number of their conversations dealt with policies. Apparently, we’d be seeing a lot more of Mycal after October 1st.

  “Kinan?” Karyn repeated, quirking an eyebrow at me. I met her stare and instantly blushed. “If someone from the Holding checks in every other day, would you be comfortable staying alone while I visit a neighboring Sithen until next Friday afternoon?” The corners of her mouth quirked. “If you didn’t hear, Mycal will not be able to get away again for about a week after Sunday morning.”

  My mouth gaped a little. “I—uh—yes? Could you make a list of things that need tending that I forgot?”

  “I’ll prepare some reheatable meals for you. Also, tonight, we’ll work on a couple exercises to supplement your physical therapy routine. I’d rather you wait until I return to switch to the cane, though Mycal left one outside your bedroom.”

  I nodded, looking down to cut off another bite of chicken. “Thank you.”

  If Hypnos came tonight, he could let Rankar know that the house would be empty for five days. Perhaps he could get away for a few hours here and there to visit. You have been embarrassed all day, yet you are planning your next assignation while they sit at the table? The self-given reprimand raised a blush. I waited to swallow until I was sure the blood rushing to my face wouldn’t cause permanent damage.

  The rest of the meal went uneventfully, but the therapy session left a sheen of sweat across my forehead. “You’re healing. I think your natural sensitivity to iron and the anti-energy ward combined to slow progress. Early on, the energy I incorporated didn’t seem to speed the healing, and now you are nearly beyond the point where energy-working can benefit. Even taking into account your proclivity to push beyond what you should, I’d say this is half-speed to where a full-blooded fae with normal iron sensitivity would be,” she mused, no longer even speaking to me. Then her eyes met mine, and she smiled. “So right on time for you.”

  I laughed, trying to hide my frustration with my own body. The stab wounds a year ago had taken less than a week to heal, and I’d nearly died.

  “Patience,” she warned, seemingly reading my thoughts. “Don’t set yourself back trying to hurry forward.”

  My groan earned a laugh. Then she shooed me out, and I went to find Mycal. He sat at his desk in his study, flipping through papers. The knock on the doorframe sounded loud in the quiet house, but he didn’t appear startled.

  “How can I help you?” he asked, obviously in Senator mode.

  “Do you have a rifle I can borrow? Since my healer has determined I’ll be out of commission for a while yet, I need something I can practice with from a prone position.”

  His eyes scanned the room, though no weapons were in sight, as he motioned me to sit in the chair across from him. “If you are
too close to the house, you’ll spook the goats. Why don’t we go to the range tomorrow? They have stools, so you can also take your own weapons.”

  I internally grimaced. He had two days to spend with his wife before another week apart. In two weeks, he’d be home more, and it wouldn’t be cutting into limited time together. “I can wait until after you are out of sessions.”

  He tilted his head slightly, a birdlike motion. “Why would you?”

  “Because there is no reason to take you away from Karyn when you have so little time together.”

  For a moment, his expression went utterly blank. Then he blinked a few times. Laughing, he shook his head and pulled out his phone and pushed a couple buttons before offering it to me. Questioningly, I accepted. “Karen Simmons” was probably eighty-five percent of the calls in the log. From my talk with Asher and dinner table conversations, I knew it was her alias. “And we skype as often as three times a day, depending on our schedules.”

  Part of me still wanted to argue, and he must have seen it. “Kinan, we’ve been married for over a century. We talk every single day. And even if we arrive when the range opens and leave when it closes, that is only eight hours. Eight hours in the grand scheme of immortality isn’t so much.”

  Managing a self-deprecating smile, I conceded. “When you put it that way, what time do you want to leave?”

  “Good girl. We can head out around eight in the morning, and I’ll text Rankar to have someone tend to the horses tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Mycal.” I moved to stand but paused with the crutches in hand to better process how long he’d been married. “When is Rankar’s birthdate?”

 

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