by Thia Mackin
Relief eased the pressure in my chest. “Yes. I would love that.”
He grinned, checking the mirror before putting on his signal and merging into traffic. A while later, he took us onto a road we hadn’t driven to get to the restaurant. The houses became a little farther apart, sitting on acre lots or better, as we continued away from the city. Then he chose a long, gravel driveway leading to a ranch style home with a white stucco exterior. A wooden ranch rail fence surrounded about two acres, slightly more than his neighbors on either side. The grounds were well-kempt, and the outdoor decorations were minimal but classy. Pulling into the garage triggered a motion light, as it was just dark enough inside to need it.
His hand at my back steadied me as we moved up the stairs through the utility room and into the kitchen. A formal dining room could be seen through an open doorway, but Rankar guided me through a different door into the den. I paused to better grip the crutches and silently whistled at the fireplace taking up most of one wall. The stone work was exquisite, and it definitely increased the value of the home. Also, whoever had tied the elements of the home into the décor needed a raise. Pieces like the large couch suited Rankar, and the components built around it all reminded me of the desert outside. The interior designer I typically hired to stage the homes I sold under my alias was expensive but didn’t do this good a job.
“Hey?” Rankar asked, touching my shoulder questioningly.
I grinned. “Hey. Sorry. I was admiring your rugs.”
“I’ll just leave you to it, I guess,” he teased.
My hands caught his waistband. “Or you could give me a tour, and I’ll admire rugs in other parts of your home?”
He ticked his head from side to side, thinking, “Perhaps that could be arranged.” Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to my lips before giving me the grand tour.
The exterior of the home misled me about the interior square footage. An addition, obviously newer than the rest of the home, was an office with built-in shelves along one wall. As Rankar leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb, I perused the contents. Though organized, each shelf held the limit of photographs and books. From chemistry to equine veterinary to military history, reference books filled the spaces. My eyes lingered on Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels before traveling to the desk. Only a laptop, desk lamp, and calendar blotter covered the top.
We paused long enough at the guest bedrooms for me to realize the Jack and Jill bathroom connecting the two rooms made it a three-bathroom home, also. The master bedroom, though, showcased the designer’s full talent. I scanned from the red, gray, and white comforter and matching Navajo rug to the dark hardwood floors. Someone had carefully selected everything from the shades on the cast iron bedside lamps to the knobs on the drawers of the bedroom set. “I love everything about it,” I complimented. “Does your designer travel internationally?”
He straightened for a moment. “Do you have a house overseas?”
Goosebumps traveled up my arms as a chill hit me. Sometimes, I forgot how little we knew about one another. How could I be so attached that I literally craved skin-to-skin contact, the flash of a smile, the warmth of the eyes of someone I barely knew?
“Just an apartment in California, actually. I pay for it every twelve months, but most of my personal effects are stored at a tavern on Elysii, since I spend more time on the other Planes than Terra. These past months are longer than I’ve stayed on Terra in three years combined.” He must have heard the strain in my voice from so much time on my leg as he motioned me to follow him to the den. “The homes I sell as my cover, though, are predominantly in Italy, Spain, and France. Lots of tourists, expensive, and sometimes sitting on the market for ages.”
He settled at the end of the couch before admitting, “It’s hard for me to picture you without a sword strapped to your side.”
I dropped down beside him, laying the crutches on the floor, and he turned until our knees touched. The craving for contact wasn’t one-sided. “Because that’s how you’ve seen me, from day one. Sometimes, my work as a translator means I have my own guard flanking me when I visit the markets. What makes it awkward is when the hired guards don’t see the pickpocket until I’ve already caught them, which has happened twice. By the way, Mystor is the worst—hands down—for thieves and muggings. Drinari has too strict a sentence for crime, leaving only the insane or desperate.” The words caught in my throat as I recalled the slave markets there. “Also, I am literally a different person. My uncle set me up with an entire identity, from birth certificate to driver’s license to passport. A closetful of designer suits and pumps, people immediately think you know your stuff.”
“Which you do,” he stated, not questioning.
I shrugged one shoulder. “I could make a good living at it, but I’d be miserable every single day.”
“And I could teach high school chemistry… or physics. I enjoy science and math. I like teaching, but I don’t want to review the same material with teenagers year after year.” My nose wrinkled, and he laughed. “Not a fan of chemistry?”
“Chemistry is just fine. I like knowing the reaction that causes the gunpowder to go boom. However, teaching? I don’t think my personality leans that way.”
“You are very patient with the animals, especially Hypnos,” Rankar encouraged.
I grimaced, shifting my throbbing leg. “Animals aren’t people, even if they can talk. Speaking of, where are Hypnos and Thanatos?”
Rankar glanced around. “When we left, I told them to stay here. Thanatos? Hypnos?” he called.
The duo appeared, one landing on the fireplace mantel and the other the back of a chair. Both cheeped a greeting to me. Neither looked at their bonded. “I think you are on the naughty list,” I murmured, trying to hide my smile as I held a hand out to Hypnos.
The drakyn landed on my good leg, his tail to his bonded, and rubbed his face against my fingers. The other chirped sadly, and I motioned him over, also. He made a happy sound, landing on the couch beside me—but away from Rankar.
“Looks like,” Rankar agreed, amused consternation in his voice.
My fingers scratched equally under each chin, causing Thanatos to move closer until he placed his forelegs on my thigh. Electric pain ran from my hip to my toes, and Hypnos hissed at his brother, who jumped back. “Not his fault,” I chided, petting the startled and uncertain Thanatos. “The past few days of activity are just catching up with me.”
Rankar dropped beside my feet, removing my boots as carefully as possible. “Very nice,” he complimented, setting them beside the couch. “Scoot back and lie down, soldier-girl. Elevate that leg with one of the pillows, and I’ll go get an ice pack.”
Before I could argue, he’d left the room. So much fuss, I mentally grumbled, nevertheless following the directions.
Hypnos moved to the couch’s arm, laying his head on my shoulder and crooning. He projected a feeling of comfort, like a cool breeze caressing a sweat-damped face after an hour of hard work in the desert. ::Loves you. Worries.::
My fingernail caught a spot beneath his chin that caused him to make a sound like a purr. “I think I love him, too,” I mumbled.
Hypnos screamed beside my ear, causing me to shoot upright. Thanatos made the same sound, disappearing from the room. His brother followed. The noise stopped as they left. Fear caused my heart to beat twice. “Rankar! You okay?” I shouted, throwing my legs over the edge of the couch and grabbing frantically for my crutches.
His fingers on my wrist slowed my heartbeat, and I realized he’d entered from the kitchen doorway instead of the hallway one. “Hey. Hey, I’m alright. Put your legs back up. That was a sound of excitement. If they are scared or sad, their screech is so high-pitched it could shatter glass. This is more like a teenager meeting her favorite boy band.” He helped me resettle, pillow elevating my leg and an ice pack on my thigh.
Instead of moving to the end of the couch, he dropped to the floor and leaned back so he could still see my face. I
stretched my right arm across my stomach, running my fingertips through his short hair. He relaxed noticeably, sliding down until the curve of the cushion supported his neck. My wrist rested on the fabric, concentrating on the back of his head.
“What did you promise them, anyway?” he murmured, sounding content.
“Nothing. I was talking to Hypnos. He screamed. Thanatos screamed. They both disappeared like they were going to you.” Just recounting it made my heart beat faster until Rankar linked the fingers of his left hand through mine where it rested by his shoulder. He didn’t ask me to stop touching him, so I kept going.
“They are usually better behaved.” His voice sounded distant, like he was falling asleep.
I grinned. “If you are going to take a nap, why don’t you come back up here? Your butt is going to go numb if you stay on the floor.”
He glanced at his watch and groaned. “It’s only seven-thirty. I should probably make a pot of coffee instead.”
“When do you have to be back to work?”
“I have a six a.m. shift on Thursday, unless something comes up before then.”
My heartbeat spiked again in excitement. Three more days.
I grinned, shifting a bit. “If I were a drakyn, I’d scream terrifyingly loud in your ear right now and then leave the room abruptly.”
He chuckled, moving to stand. “I appreciate the warning.”
Removing the ice pack, I sat up. “What do you think about calling it an early night? We could wake up before sunrise and go for a run, maybe? Test your theory about four legs being easier than two?”
Offering me a hand up, he nodded. “Sounds good. I haven’t run in a while.” Before my weight could send a twinge through my thigh, he lifted me up with his hand supporting my butt. “Arms around my neck, soldier-girl.”
For once, I didn’t argue. Somehow, knowing he cared about me and wanted to help me was different than showing a stranger weakness they could exploit later. Linking my fingers behind his neck, I rested my cheek on his shoulder and kissed his neck. “Today’s been the best day, Rankar.”
He squeezed me tighter as we turned into the master bedroom. “Need to use the bathroom?”
I shook my head, stretching the fingers of one hand down his spine until he shivered. He set me on the side of the bed, and I reluctantly let him disappear into the bathroom. On each pillow rested a drakyn, eyes closed and apparently sleeping. Unbuttoning my pants, I slid them and my socks off with a wince. The shirt came over my head, revealing the special bra set. If Elie had foreseen how tired he would be and how much I currently hurt, she had a sick sense of humor. Poor Rankar.
Sliding toward the headboard, I leaned backward at an angle to keep from disturbing Hypnos. When the door opened, a shirtless and barefoot Rankar was framed briefly by the light before he flipped it off. He paused mid-step as he saw me, and I shrugged one shoulder in silent apology for the tease. The quirk of his lips absolved me as he moved to the dresser and offered me a shirt. His warm hand at my back leaned me forward. He unsnapped my bra and, without straps, let it fall.
As the cool air hit my skin, he inhaled sharply, kissed my mouth, and helped me put on the shirt proclaiming me an Army of One. Then he managed to get me under the comforter without a single twinge of pain. Moving back around the bed, he slipped off his pants and crawled under the covers in his boxer briefs.
After he stopped shifting, I rolled into him, resting my aching leg over his. My palm relaxed over his heart, and my breathing began to sync to his slower breaths.
“This really was a great day,” he whispered, kissing my forehead and placing his hand on my back.
I smiled, quietly drifting into a dreamless sleep.
The shift washed over me. No pain, no discomfort. Just innate magic from my Tuatha de Danaan heritage. However, a moment of disorientation caused me to stand utterly still in the den as my viewpoint changed from seventy inches tall to eighteen. Walking around the coffee table twice, I waited for any twinges of warning from my injury. The more open space in the middle of the floor invited me to try a pounce.
A feline chirp from the doorway warned me that Rankar had finished his shift and watched my antics, potentially laughing. Turning, I looked up. He now stood over twice my height. This must be how Eliecha and Karyn feel beside the men in their family. Padding across the carpet, I stretched upward to butt my head against the bottom of his shoulder.
His second chirp sounded more like a question. In answer, I darted toward the open patio door and outside. The pre-sunrise, desert chill never touched me as I paused to let him take the lead. He’d know of trail cameras, herds, and other issues that might cause us trouble. Without hesitation, he headed toward a break in the fencing and squeezed through. My much smaller form had no issues.
Then the desert flashed by us as we ran. The warm scent of field mice, rabbits, and the occasional deer tickled my nose. The smell of lizards and snakes were fainter in the predawn, as the cold-blooded ones waited for the sun to heat the sand and rocks. His stride made three of mine; however, our natural speeds were similar enough that he could run comfortably and I only had to stretch a little.
A deer startled from the brush, but after a half-hearted chase, we let it go on. Too much of our energy had been spent enjoying the thrill of freedom, and he knew I’d be no help in bringing down such a large animal—not that he’d need my help. His cougar form weighed more than his wild brethren, more muscled and better fed. A single cougar could kill and eat a deer on its own. He’d have been fine.
As miles of dirt, sand, and rock passed beneath our paws, familiar odors teased at my nose. Our strides were shorter and our pace slower as we circled back to the house. The sky held the barest hint of color, warning of sunrise and potential to be spotted by Rankar’s neighbors.
As we entered the open den door, we dropped down to a walk. Rankar continued toward his bedroom, but I stopped near the couch to investigate the smells. Two of his brothers that I’d met had sat there. A snake—venomous and of a variety that I’d never encountered before—had spent time in the room. The drakyn had touched every surface, so far as my nose could tell. And the comforting leather and musk scent of Rankar.
Shifting this time came with a twinge at the end when I finished, standing on my injured leg without the support of crutches. However, a warm blanket wrapped around me, and he lifted me with an arm behind my back and one under my legs, cradling me to his chest. “Let’s finish watching the sunrise.”
I set one hand behind his neck and used the other to open the back door after resettling the blanket to cover my nakedness. Despite the chill in the air, he’d only put on jeans—shirtless and barefoot. “You can’t carry me everywhere. This is twice in a day,” I grumbled.
He paused on the patio deck. “Want me to get your crutches?”
His natural warmth emanated through the comforter, and I exhaled. “Next time, yes, please. Can’t miss the sunrise.”
Snagging a wicker chair with the hand under my knees, he lifted me a little higher so the legs didn’t drag and stopped in the middle of his backyard with an unobstructed view in a southeasterly direction. Then he sat, me still in his arms.
Snuggling closer, I inhaled deeply. It reminded me. “What kind of snake was in your house? It’s not from here.”
Rankar grunted, waiting until I stopped moving. “Asp. Kismet’s alternate form.”
Time slowed; neither of us spoke. As the colors began to fade from the sky, Rankar shifted. “May I carry you back to the house?”
I cuddled closer, grinning a little at the thought of trying to crutch across the yard and hold up the comforter covering my nakedness. Burying my face against his neck to hide my amused nervousness, I murmured, “I’m willing to make a deal. Three conditions. You can carry me back to the house to keep me from flashing your neighbors if you are also willing to find me a loaner toothbrush, shower with me, and then cook us breakfast so we don’t both wish we were dead from eating my attempt at food.”
He tensed to stand, arms tightening around me. “Take a shower with you? I can probably manage that.”
If his steps were a little faster on the way to the shower, likely the thought of my cooking terrified him.
Chapter 15
By Wednesday morning, Hypnos and Thanatos had forgiven Rankar for leaving them behind. They even accompanied us on our morning run, which we cut a little short since tiny dragons would stand out a bit more than animals native to New Mexico like a cougar or ocelot. After sunrise, a shower, and breakfast, we headed to the grocery store to stock up on a few items for a cookout with his brothers later that afternoon.
He distracted me during the drive with a rundown of his family members that I hadn’t met. Kismet and his wife, Tiernia, had bumped into one another at a grocery store. He’d married her despite the scorn of the Sirach Sithen. Apparently, her father had committed a crime so terrible his name had been struck from Tuatha de Danaan history. By fae standards, the sins of the father reflected on the child. “But everyone who meets Tiernia loves her. Their loss. My family’s gain.”
While his brother Xander had arrived the night Romtal died, he’d left his wife safe at home. Faela Sirach, daughter of a Tuatha de Danaan so powerful that even I had heard of and feared Athanasia Serei, taught music to humans and paranormals alike. She and Xander had met and fell in love instantly at Kismet and Tiernia’s wedding, marrying a year later themselves.
After Rankar spent enough money on groceries and alcohol to feed me for five years, we headed home. “What about Asher and your sister?”
Rankar studied the traffic a moment. “They can’t make it tonight. They’re out of the country. And my soulsibling, Tier, lives in San Diego. His career makes it hard for him to get away.”
The small lines around his mouth told me he wasn’t telling me something. However, they were his family. Either he’d get comfortable enough to reveal it later, or he wouldn’t. “Are any of them married?”