by Hazel Hunter
Shayne looked startled. “You’d listen to me?”
Gillian shrugged.
“Whatever’s…happened, I know you take your job seriously. You know what you’re doing. You know how to protect us and, let’s face it, I know translations and archaeology. If you say he’s a liability, we’ll get someone else.”
“Thank you,” said Shayne, still sounding a little surprised.
He stood from the chair, pacing for a few moments. Finally, he shook his head.
“Dammit.”
“What? Should I call Marceline?”
“Far from it,” Shayne said, his voice an irritated growl. “Any way I look at it, he’s the right choice for this. He’s not from this part of the world, but one of the first covens he spent time with was located in Ankara, the capital. He’s been in and out of Turkey since it was the Ottoman Empire, and I know that he’s spent time in Cappadocia.”
“So…”
“So he’s one of the best men for the job.”
Gillian couldn’t help grinning a little at that.
“So we can keep him?” she asked.
Shayne nodded with more than a little bit of sullenness.
Almost as if they had summoned him, there was a brisk knock at the door.
“Come in,” they both said.
Mathias came in, a shopping bag hooked over his arm and a bright smile on his face. In the morning light, he was even more striking. He was dressed in loose-fitting cotton pants and a matching white tunic. Now Gillian could see that his eyes were a deep shade of green. He had a another cup of coffee.
“So, am I staying or getting my walking papers?” he asked briskly.
“You’re staying,” Shayne growled. “But believe me when I say that at the first sign of any goddamn recklessness, you’re going out on your ass.”
Mathias’s eyes narrowed, and his smile was a little cruel.
“I’m on the clock now, and I have a job to do. Why don’t you get out so I can do it? We can talk all about what a disappointment I am later.”
Shayne snorted.
“Fine. I’m getting some breakfast downstairs. Gillian, if he’s a jackass, don’t be afraid to hit him. In a fight, he folds like a wet house of cards.”
If Gillian hadn’t been watching Mathias, she would never have noticed the slight flinch at Shayne’s words. He recovered so fast that she was wondering whether she had seen it at all.
The door closed behind Shayne. Mathias turned to her expectantly.
“So you really will be comfortable having me here? This won’t be a problem?”
“If you and Shayne don’t actually kill each other, I think it’ll be fine,” she said with a smile. “Also, well, you get under his skin. And that’s not a bad thing.”
Mathias raised an eyebrow. “On one hand, that sounds like a story, but on the other, I got you these.”
He handed Gillian the bag he had been holding. When she looked in, she was startled to see clothes.
“What’s all this?”
“We’re going to Göreme in Cappadocia. It’s a fairly safe area, not too close to the Iraqi border. Lots of tourists go through there, though not so much in winter. But it’s also a fairly conservative area. It’s a good idea to be respectful.”
“Oh!” Gillian said, shaking her head with chagrin. “I’m sorry. It never occurred to me.”
“In Istanbul, you’d be fine in that dress.” He took a moment to eye her appreciatively. Gillian felt heat rise to her cheeks. “But we’re venturing into the sticks, so to speak. We can avoid notice by dressing properly. Since Marceline’s footing the bill, I grabbed some basic things this morning.”
“Thank you,” Gillian said, smiling. She paused, waiting for him to excuse himself.
“Are you going to leave?” she asked finally.
He tilted his head to one side. When he smiled just a little bit, it made him look like an inquisitive cat.
“Are you going to ask me to?”
The question shocked her, and heat quickly rose to her cheeks. He must have seen her surprise and indicated the room behind her. She turned to see an intricately carved, folded screen that stood discretely in the corner. She exhaled a little. What had she been thinking? When she turned back to Mathias, his smile was gone.
“I promise you,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. “I am trustworthy.”
The words were uttered without a hint of the usual teasing tone. With a start, she realized she didn’t doubt him. As if she were trying to prove it, she went quickly to the screen.
“I hope they’ll fit,” he said. “I guessed your size.”
Only when she was behind the screen did she realize it wasn’t solid. The fine, geometric pattern was partially see-through. Nor was she entirely behind it. It barely came up to her shoulders.
“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” she muttered, trying to hide her embarrassment.
Now that she’d said he could stay, it hardly felt right asking him to leave. She reached behind her to pull down the zipper of her dress. Whether it was the gloves that kept her Wiccan gift in check, or the sudden nervousness, she didn’t know. But she couldn’t get a grip.
“Would you like some help?” he asked.
“No, I’ve got it,” she chirped.
But as she struggled with it, almost in the middle of her back, it was clear she wasn’t going to manage. Though taking off the gloves would help, that didn’t feel right in front of Mathias.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
She sighed and finally gave up. With a chagrined smile, she came around the screen and turned her back to him.
As she held her hair aside, she said, “A little help would be–”
Though she hadn’t heard him move, his fingers were already on the zipper. Holding the top, he smoothly and slowly pulled it down. His fingers against her skin were warm. She felt the tug of the fabric across her breasts, then her belly. Without hurry, he lowered the zipper, letting her dress fall open. She knew he had to see her bra and then her panties. Though her cheeks felt as though they were burning, her heart raced a little.
“You’re lovely,” Mathias whispered.
The words were uttered so softly and sincerely that she turned to look at him. His gaze was sweet, almost wistful, and it somehow made her more shy than a leer would have. But in that unguarded moment, they both froze.
“I know you,” she whispered, barely audible.
“Who are you?” he said at precisely the same moment.
They both blinked.
As though the spell were broken, Mathias backed up.
Gillian ducked behind the screen.
For a moment, they were both still. What had just happened? Why had she said that? She glanced over her shoulder. Why had he?
“If those don’t fit,” Mathias said, not looking at her. “I’ll take them back.”
Right. The clothes.
She wriggled the dress from her shoulders. As it dropped to the floor and she stepped out of it, she reached into the bag. She pulled out a dark blue, embroidered tunic, and black wide-legged trousers. When she had them on, they swished like a skirt. There were even pockets for Max. She paused when she came to a black scarf. It felt like it was made of chiffon.
“I guess this is supposed to go over my hair?”
She came out from behind the screen.
Mathias turned and eyed her approvingly before answering.
“I can put it up for you, if you like.”
She smiled when she held it out to him. “If you show me how to do it, I won’t have to bother you with it again.”
“It wouldn’t be a bother,” he said lightly, taking it from her.
He used it to hold her hair back from her face, then elegantly draped the black silk scarf over her head and around her shoulders.
“Somehow, I suspect you’re not doing the basic version,” she said jokingly.
Mathias grinned at her as he deftly folded a pair of elegant pleats into the fabric by h
er ears. His touch was light and gentle, stirring her hair just slightly as he covered it. She realized with a little surprise that she was enjoying it.
“Well, I did learn this look from a rather fashionable woman in Ankara. It looks good on you.”
Gillian went to the mirror in the bathroom to examine herself. The clothing was loose and flowing, obscuring her shape. It startled her a little to see the way she looked with all of her hair pulled back from her face. It made her gray eyes look enormous. It outlined the bones of her face, which were strong and slightly sharp.
“So am I ready?”
She could see Mathias reflected in the mirror behind her. For a moment she wondered if they’d be caught in that same, strange spell. But instead it struck her that he wasn’t just handsome. He was expressive. In body and face, his emotions were virtually on display. She watched in fascination as several crossed his features.
“I think you are,” he said smiling at her in the mirror. “Gather your things and I’ll take you downstairs for breakfast. After that, I’ll get the vehicle ready for Göreme.”
The inn’s small cafe was just as charming as her room. A grandfatherly man seemed to run it, and he came out personally to take their order. Though he handed them both menus, and there were a few English translations, Gillian had no idea what to order.
“If you can do eggs and dairy, I suggest cilbir,” Mathias said. “Most people like that.”
Gillian was a little startled to see Mathias order two plates for himself, but it made sense when Shayne appeared.
“Checking in with your handlers?” asked Mathias.
Shayne glared at him, but took a seat.
“With the Magus Corps, yes.” He paused, noting Gillian’s new look. “I see you’re ready.”
“I am. Mathias said we could leave after breakfast.”
Shayne nodded, and quickly looked away. He wasn’t looking at her or at Mathias.
Mathias, for his part, looked utterly comfortable. When he caught Gillian’s eye, he winked and began talking about the history of the inn. It had been there for more than a hundred years, and he had been coming to it since it opened.
“And no one here’s noticed?” she asked. “The man behind the counter looks like he’s been here for most of that.”
Mathias shrugged.
“Well, you know. All us westerners look alike.”
She had to laugh. Mathias made that easy.
Breakfast arrived on large plates. It turned out that cilbir was poached eggs under a peppery yogurt and butter sauce. Following Mathias’s lead, she dipped her slice of crusty bread into the warm, liquid yolk. The result was an extraordinarily rich flavor that made her smile. Shayne, though, ate with mechanical efficiency. It was obviously a meal he had had before.
When they were done, Mathias wiped his mouth, stood up, and nearly bowed to her.
“I’ll pop back in when I’ve got the car ready. Shouldn’t be too long.” He gave them both a look. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
He left, and it was like he took the air in the room with him. Gillian toyed with the remnants of her meal while Shayne slouched in the chair, his eyes focused on nothing at all.
“I’m going to ask you again,” Gillian said softly. “Is working with him going to be a problem for you?”
Shayne looked up with a startled frown.
“I told you it wasn’t,” he began, but she cut him off.
“I know you told me it wasn’t,” she said. “But I’m not blind. You said something about him being drunk in Morocco. You can barely look at him. That seems like a problem to me.”
Shayne sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. To give him some time, Gillian took a crust of her bread and fed it discreetly to Max, who ground his teeth with approval.
“I stand by what I said,” he said finally. “In all likelihood, he is the very best man for this job.”
“But you don’t like him.”
Shayne started to answer, but then Mathias strode up to their table. There was something about his slight smile that told Gillian that he knew that they were talking about him.
“All ready. At your pleasure, Gillian. We have a bit of a drive ahead of us.”
As Mathias held her chair, and Shayne stood, his face like stone, Gillian sighed. It was going to be a long ride.
CHAPTER THREE
GILLIAN WATCHED THE Turkish countryside out the window. What startled her was how quickly it changed. In less than an hour, the skyscrapers of Istanbul had fallen away to reveal a lush, Mediterranean countryside, dotted with ruins, vineyards, and fields. It occurred to her that this might have been what travelers to Tenebris would have seen when they made their journey. Though the telephone wires and paved roads were undoubtedly modern, there was a deep sense of history to the place.
She ended up with the backseat to herself. Shayne had taken the front seat next to Mathias, though the two had little enough to say to each other. The tension in Shayne’s shoulders had lessened. At least, when he commented on Mathias’s taste in Turkish pop music, his derision seemed friendly instead of hurtful.
Though Gillian tried to keep her eyes open, the warmth and the motion of the car made her feel drowsy. Before she knew it, she was nodding off.
In her dream, she was in another warm and lovely place. Outside, the winter wind was howling. Where she came from, people would die on nights like this. But here, all were allowed into the warmth. She could walk about the great halls with her arms as bare as they were in summer.
She heard someone whistling a jaunty tune, and when she looked up, there was a young woman rounding the corner. It didn’t occur to Gillian to ask the young woman’s name, because she knew it. She had known it for years. She was tall and slim, with the pale, nearly white hair that was so common among the northern peoples.
The woman stopped dead in her tracks as soon as she laid eyes on Gillian. With exaggerated surprise, she put her hand on her breast, her black eyes open comically wide.
“What vision of loveliness is this I see before me?” she asked in wonder. “Can it be the great goddess herself come to earth? Will I be struck blind by this beauty?”
Gillian laughed, because her friend always said things like that.
“Shush,” Gillian said, smiling. “You shouldn’t say such things.”
“Or what, your fine lord will hang me up like a cut of meat?”
“Don’t say that! He doesn’t deserve it.”
The other woman shook her head and shrugged. “Like anyone listens to me.”
“It would hurt him to hear you say things like that,” Gillian corrected. “He cares for you, too.”
Her friend shrugged again, even more diffident now. She had been a fighter for more years than she had not, but there was still something of the shy girl about her.
“You tell me that.”
“He tells you that too, and if you would listen to him, you would hear it.”
Her friend’s gaze was hopeful and slightly fearful at once.
Gillian knew what would come next. She would take her hand, and they would go to the room with the wolf on the door. But that didn’t happen. Instead, her friend looked at her with pale green eyes that were full of grief. Gillian blinked. Her friend’s eyes were black. They always had been.
“You can feel it coming, can’t you?” her friend whispered.
“Feel what coming? What’s the matter?”
“We can’t change any of it, and it’s coming. Gods above, I’m going to miss you when you’re gone.”
Gillian tried to laugh, but it came out strained.
“What are you saying?” she asked. “What can’t we change? Darling, I’m not going anywhere. Please, you’re frightening me.”
“I’m frightened too,” her friend whispered, and perhaps that was the most terrifying thing of all.
Gillian didn’t know what to say. She only knew that there was a horrible rightness to what her friend was saying, a truth she couldn’t deny.
>
She had to say it now. She had to tell her friend that she loved her, that she always would. But when she tried to get the words out, she couldn’t. As she watched, her friend was being whipped away by an unseen breeze. Her beloved face was fading and being erased.
“Gillian?”
That’s not my name, Gillian wanted to scream.
She lurched up, and reality set in again. The light that came through the car window was the rich gold of mid afternoon. Mathias had a hand on her shoulder, eyes shadowed with concern. Behind him, she could see Shayne as well, looking as if he would love to strangle anything that would hurt her. The car wasn’t moving.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, shaking her head. She felt as if it was stuffed with cobwebs.
“You were moaning,” Mathias said softly. “You sounded as if your heart was breaking.”
“It sounded like you were in pain,” agreed Shayne. “We pulled over to see what was the matter.”
“Nothing, I’m fine,” Gillian said.
At least, that’s what she would have said if she hadn’t burst into tears.
She sobbed hard, covering her face with her hands. Mathias slid into the back seat next to her, cuddling her under his arm, as if they had always been close. He made a comforting sound.
“There, there, pretty girl. It’s all right. No need to carry on as if the world’s broken, is there?”
She was only marginally aware of the fact that he turned his head to look at Shayne behind him.
“Get in here.”
“What?”
“You heard me. She needs you, too. Don’t be a pompous ass about this.”
She heard the door open. Shayne appeared behind her, his solid chest against her back. It felt so good and so right that she burst into fresh tears.
“I missed you,” she cried, heartbroken in a way that she didn’t understand.
“I’m here,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.”
But it wasn’t their breakup that so saddened her––not entirely. What she mourned felt as deep as canyons. She tried explaining, but it was simply too tangled. Instead she only cried and cried.
Slowly, her sobs shuddered to a halt, until they were bare hiccups. When she could finally bring herself under control, she felt strangely empty. The feelings that had buffeted her were gone, leaving only a faint trace.