It staggered him, like a punch to the gut. He clung to his crutch. How could anyone know anything with such certainty? He wasn’t sure. But his dragon side and his human side were no longer struggling to sync.
Lisa Devers was the woman he was meant to be with.
“This is going to be tight.” Monalisa squeezed next to Van in the small spot between him and the arm of the oversized chair. Oversized, yes, but still a chair.
“Is good.” He scooped up her legs and swung them over his.
“Your knee!”
“My knee is fine. You weigh very little. I know this because you told me.” He smiled and put his arm around her. “Are you comfortable?”
She snuggled into the crook of his arm. “Yes.” Believe it or not. She’d never been this intimate with a man before, but being with Van felt so right. Too right. The kind of right that was going to leave her miserable for months. But she would endure that pain in exchange for having these sweet memories of what could be.
He found the movie on the list and hit play, then set the remote aside and leaned back to watch. His hand settled on her thigh, a few inches above her knee. It was heavy and warm and felt possessive in a way she didn’t mind at all.
If this was what being in a relationship was like, she prayed someday she’d get to experience it again. And get to hold on to that relationship for more than a few days.
The movie was fast-paced, funny in spots, full of action and snappy lines. She and Van reacted alike, laughing together, tensing at the same time, even gasping in unison once. He adjusted his arm around her shoulders so that he could thread his fingers through her hair. He played with the strands, twisting them around his fingers. It was a blissful sensation and one that threatened to cause her to drift off. Just when she thought she might, his hand moved to her shoulder and stayed there.
They spent the rest of the movie wound around each other like that. Snug and content. It was perfect.
Then he went oddly still in the last few minutes before the credits started to roll. She picked her head up and looked at him.
He was asleep.
She smiled, understanding completely. The crackling fire had made the house toasty, and the chair was like a giant leather-covered marshmallow. Being snuggled up had made her a little sleepy too. Or maybe it had been the beer. She kept her voice low. “Van?”
But there was no response. Except from Grom, who sat up and yawned, then gave her a look she was coming to recognize as him needing to go out.
“That makes two of us,” she whispered.
She climbed out of the chair, careful not to wake Van, and went to the door. Grom followed and trotted outside when she opened it. “I’ll be right back for you, promise.”
She shut the door quietly, then jogged upstairs to use the bathroom herself. When she came out, she saw the light on her phone blinking. Her father. Who else?
Ignoring the phone until later, she went back downstairs and out onto the front porch to check on Grom. There was enough moon and starlight to see him rolling around in the leaves. And to see the snow that was coming down in fat, fluffy flakes. “You better have done your business already.”
He jerked upright, tongue hanging out, and woofed at her, stomping the ground in his playful way.
“No, it’s too late to play. You need to do what you need to do and get back inside. It’s cold out here.” And she hadn’t grabbed her jacket. She hugged her arms around her body, desperately missing Van’s heat. What was that Russian word he’d used to get Grom to listen? She couldn’t remember it.
The door opened behind her, and Van limped out, eyes still heavy with sleep. “What is going on?”
She shivered. “Your dog is goofing off, and I’m freezing.”
“I can fix that.”
She expected him to put his arm around her, but instead his eyes glowed for a moment and the temperature started to rise. It got downright balmy. “What did you do?”
“I can radiate heat in my human form. It’s about all I can do right now.”
“Wow, that’s a very handy skill.” She dropped her arms. “Now what kind of magic do you have that will get that silly dog back up here?”
He leaned on his crutch, moving forward to the railing. “Grom, ko mne.”
The dog straightened, then ran up onto the porch and into the house.
She laughed. “That really is magic.” She went in after him, Van behind her.
He shut the door.
She stood where she was, letting him come to her. “We should back up the last couple minutes of the movie. You missed the ending.”
He smiled sheepishly. “I’ve seen it.”
“You have? And you wanted to watch it anyway?”
He pulled her close with one arm, the other hand occupied with holding on to the crutch. “It’s a good movie. And I wanted you to see whatever you wanted. And to be happy.”
“I am happy.”
He stared down at her, shaking his head slowly. “I have seen the sadness that comes into your eyes when you think I’m not looking. I do not know what troubles you, but it hurts me. I want to make things better for you.”
A lump settled in her throat. “I’m not sad. I just think a lot. That’s my thinking face.” Lying to him was awful. She leaned in and kissed him, hoping to distract them both with the press of her mouth.
It worked.
A long, hot minute later, she broke away with a smile. “I should go to bed. We both should.”
“It is barely nine o’clock.”
“I know, but we’re both tired, and we have more therapy tomorrow. Plus, I don’t want to be the reason you’re not healing like you should.”
He pursed his mouth. “I will not argue. But only because I see the end goal in all of this.”
“What’s that mean?”
“You’ll see.”
She glanced behind her. “Do we need to do anything to the fire?”
“No. It is almost out anyway.” He kissed her once more, soft and sweet. “See you in the morning, zolotse.” He snapped his fingers, and Grom followed.
She wanted to ask what the word he’d called her meant, but that felt like it might ruin the moment. Then she remembered that her father had probably left a thousand messages for her, which ruined the moment anyway.
She plodded upstairs and picked up the phone from the nightstand. As suspected, her father had left numerous messages and texts. Call me now. No games. Important.
For a second, she wondered if something had happened, but then she realized it was just his way of getting her to do what he wanted. Like always.
She texted back. What?
Her phone rang. It was him. She answered it as she headed out to the balcony to talk where she wouldn’t be overheard. Once again, without a jacket. But this wouldn’t take long. She’d hang up before she got too cold. “What now?”
“I need Ivan here in five days.”
“Five? Are you insane? That’s this Saturday.”
“I know what day it is. Just do it.”
“That’s ridiculous. The venom won’t be out of his system by then. Not even close.” The heat of her anger made her forget the temperature and the thin blanket of snow already forming. “He needs at least another month.”
“Five days. Make it happen. I have some whales coming in, and if they’re here for the fight, they’ll drop big money.”
She didn’t care what her father or his wealthy, gambling customers wanted. “It’s not that easy.”
“It is if you use your gifts. Which you should already be doing.”
“I hate you.”
“Five days.”
She hung up. She wanted to pitch her phone into the woods, but if her father couldn’t reach her, he’d send Sean out here, and that would just make things worse. She leaned on the railing. Five days was impossible. Van would never be ready to fight by then.
The tears she’d been fighting for so long finally came, streaming hot down her face. She wanted t
o scream and break things. But that wasn’t her way. Her way was just to suck it up and deal with the wretched hand she’d been dealt.
Because there was no alternative. No escape.
She picked up her head and wiped her face with her hands. There was one escape, however temporary. She could shift and take a few moments to drift through the forest. It would be so peaceful with the snow coming down. Quiet and serene and just what she needed right now. She’d done it once before without any issue.
And she already knew Van was off to bed.
She closed her eyes and called up her magic.
The voice Van had heard turned out to be Lisa on the phone. He watched her from inside the house, the triple-paned windows making it hard to determine exactly what she was saying, even with his keen hearing.
Whoever she was talking to, they were making her angry. That made him angry. But he shouldn’t be eavesdropping. It wasn’t right. If she wanted to share her troubles with him, she would. Someday, he hoped she’d be that comfortable with him.
She hung up and started to cry.
The sight of her tears made him want to hurt whoever she’d been talking to. He put his hand to the glass. He should go upstairs and comfort her. That would be okay, wouldn’t it? He could say he’d heard her crying and—
A piercing flash of light blinded him. Grom growled. Van blinked, unable to see beyond a bright glaring spot left in his vision. He staggered back, gripping his crutch until the metal bent in his hand. That light. He knew that light.
That was the light that had cost him everything.
“Grom, tiho.”
Grom quieted, and as the glaring spot faded, Van stared up at the balcony to see if Lisa was all right.
Snow drifted down in big flakes.
Lisa was gone.
His heart pounded in his chest, and a thousand thoughts flooded his brain. Was she hurt? Why had the person responsible for that light followed him to Nocturne Falls? Who were they? What did they want? His hoard? That was the only reasonable explanation he could come up with.
“Lisa!” He called out her name as he walked toward the stairs. No answer. He made his way up to the bedroom as quickly as he could. The pain was easier to ignore with adrenaline in his system. “Lisa, where are you? Say something.”
But there was no response. Whoever had flashed that light had taken her. Anger burned white-hot in him, and his instincts to protect her married with his drive to hurt whoever had done this. Had he been well, he would have shifted immediately and taken to the skies to hunt them down.
And when he found them, he would have covered them in flames and turned them to ash. He turned back to the stairs. He could call Nick Hardwin. The man was a gargoyle, one of the class that could fly. He’d help Van search.
He put his hand on the railing to steady himself when the balcony door opened behind him.
“Van? What are you doing up here?”
He pivoted. There was snow in her hair. “What happened? I thought someone took you. Or hurt you. Or worse. There was a flash of light and—”
She sucked in a ragged breath. It sounded very much like a sob.
The sound caused another possibility to click into his brain. One he didn’t want to give room to. One that meant things he didn’t want to be true. One that sent a chill through him so harsh, he felt cold for the first time in his life. He cursed in his native tongue before reverting to English again. “You are not a dryad, are you?”
She swallowed and shook her head. It was a small, timid movement.
His next words came out in a dark snarl. “What are you?”
She wiped a hand over her mouth, her eyes sad and desperate and tearful. “I can explain.”
“I am listening.”
She swallowed. “Can we go downstairs?”
“Nyet. Explain. Now.”
She finished closing the balcony door, then she moved closer to the bed. Farther from him. “I don’t know where to begin.”
“Anywhere. Just start.”
She took a breath. “I’ve wanted to tell you this so many times these last few days.” She sat on the edge of the bed and twisted her fingers together. She stared at her hands. “I’m a Will-o’-the-Wisp.”
She looked up. “Do you know what that is? We’re a rare creature.”
He just stared at her.
“That flash of light you saw, that was me.” Her voice was quiet. Resigned. As if this conversation had been inevitable. Perhaps it had been.
“The one the other night?”
“Me too.”
He asked the question he dreaded the answer to. “And at the fight?”
Another sob escaped her throat, and she nodded, silent tears washing her cheeks. “Yes.”
The whispered answer echoed through the room like a scream.
He rocked back, unable to process more than the feelings of betrayal and anger. “Why?”
She shook her head. “I had no choice.”
There was always a choice. “You need to leave.”
She folded her hands in her lap. The tears were gone, replaced by a dull, blank look. “I know. I’m sorry.”
He turned around and limped down the stairs.
The wheels of her rolling suitcase skipped and scudded over the snowy gravel road. She hadn’t wanted to wait in the house until the Ryde driver came, and if she was going to wait outside on the porch anyway, she might as well use the time to put some distance between her and the mess she’d made.
So what if it was snowing?
She didn’t blame Van. She blamed her father. Herself too, but just like she’d told him, she’d had no choice.
If he’d exploded in rage, or broken something, or screamed at her, she would have expected all those things. Almost welcomed them. But the way he’d responded had shaken her far worse. She’d never seen such hurt in someone. The pain in his eyes had been visible like a shining light.
Pain she’d put there.
Snowflakes hit her face. She wiped at them, and her hand came back wet. It wasn’t snow. She was crying again. She was so numb it was hard to tell. Hard to care. Her movements were robotic and instinct driven, because if she opened herself up to the emotion just below that, she would collapse and die from the pain of it. That much she knew.
And maybe that wasn’t such a bad option. But not here. Not where Van would have to explain what had happened. Not where she’d only be causing him more trouble. She could hold on until she got back to Vegas, then she’d melt down. And if her broken heart and destroyed spirit killed her, the mess would be on her father’s head.
And wouldn’t that serve him right?
With that singularly buoyant thought sustaining her, she walked all the way to the main road and flagged down the Ryde driver there.
He hopped out and put her suitcase in the back of the SUV, while she took her purse, climbed in, and slumped back on the seat.
He got in and glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Where to? Your check-in said the airport, but it’s closed because of the blizzard.”
“What? This isn’t a blizzard. It’s just a little snow.”
He laughed. “Sorry, but the FAA thinks otherwise.”
She looked outside. Really looked. Everything was covered in white. Bollocks. She couldn’t go back to Van’s. “Any idea when planes will be flying out again?”
He shrugged. “Tomorrow maybe? Who knows? You still want me to take you somewhere, or you just going home?”
“I was trying to get home.”
“That’s rough.”
She thought for a moment, then came up with the only place she could think of that would probably still be open. “Take me into town. To Howler’s.”
“You got it.” He took the SUV out of park and off they went.
It was slow going. The roads weren’t plowed, but the car seemed to be doing okay. Maybe he had four-wheel drive.
She leaned against the door and stared into the swirling white beyond the window. It blurred to
gether after a while, and her thoughts returned to what had happened. She wasn’t surprised. The truth had been bound to come out.
She just hurt so much more than she’d expected to. She sighed, and her breath fogged the glass. The pain was because she liked Van so much.
That had been a stupid thing to do. To fall for the guy she’d been sent to con. How dumb. She’d never done anything remotely that stupid ever. Not even the time her father had sent her to talk some internet billionaire into hosting his company party at the Shamrock. And that guy had been cute and wealthy.
She scowled. Van was handsome and loaded too, but that had nothing to do with why she’d fallen for him. Her feelings were about the way he’d treated her, the unexpected sweetness of his spirit, his kind soul, his generous nature, his way with animals and people, his wit, his intelligence, his fantastic body—okay, so maybe a little of how she felt had to do with what he looked like, but that was just human nature, right?
Just like it was human nature to tell yourself everything was going to be all right even when you knew that was a lie.
She sniffed and dug in her purse for a tissue. Her phone was blinking again. She’d missed a notification. She snatched it out of her handbag and checked it on the off chance it was Van wanting to talk.
It wasn’t.
And her father could get lost.
She crammed the phone back down into her purse and pulled out a tissue, wiping at her nose. Hopefully, Bridget would be there and she could help Monalisa find a place to stay until the airport opened up again. She didn’t remember seeing a hotel, but there had to be an inn or a bed-and-breakfast with a vacancy.
The car slowed, then finally stopped altogether. “Here we are. Howler’s.”
“Oh.” She sat up and looked toward the bar and grill. The lights were on. That was a good sign. She slid out of the car, her feet sinking calf-deep into the snow.
She trudged around to the back where the driver had gotten her bag out. “Thanks.”
“Sure thing. Hope you get home soon.”
“Me too. I’ll make sure to give you five stars.”
“Much appreciated.” He got back in and pulled away, leaving her in the midst of the snowpocalypse.
The Dragon Finds Forever (Nocturne Falls Book 7) Page 13