I unfolded the thick cream paper note given to me by the fae. The top of the page held an ornate stamp, one I didn’t recognise, and the edges of the page itself were gilt. I stared down at the handwritten note, the letters sliding one into the other. It was gibberish. Yet there was something terribly familiar about it.
“I can’t believe him,” Grey grunted, his anger making my skin zing with so much energy it actually hurt.
“Can you please cut the magic shit,” I said, brushing my hands up and down my arms in an attempt to dispel some of the magic filling the car.
“What?” he barked, glaring at me as he gunned the engine and the SUV lunged out into evening traffic.
“Grey,” I said, placing a hand on his arm. He looked from my hand to the sweet smile curling my lips. “Please, cut out the testosterone-laden-macho-magic before I hog tie you with my whip and drag your ass back to your brother so he can have the upper hand for once in a fight.” I kept my voice syrupy sweet but Grey jerked as though I’d slapped him full force across the face.
“So what, you’re taking his side now?”
“No, I’m taking my own side,” I said. “If I wanted to feel the sting of a thousand violent insects, I’d go kick a hornet’s nest.”
It took him a moment but the magical energy that had been flooding the car suddenly subsided, making the air abruptly breathable once more.
“Sorry,” he said quietly, intensely focusing on the cars ahead of us. The first car in the line braked, the red lights flicking on before the car indicated and pulled off the road jerkily. It wasn’t until the second car did exactly the same thing that I realised Grey hadn’t actually quietened his power at all, he’d just redirected it.
“Right, that’s enough,” I said harshly, “pull the goddamned car over.”
“I’m taking you back to the office,” he said.
“Pull the bloody car over now, Grey.” The words came out through gritted teeth, and I found myself running my fingers over and back on the snake skin scales of the whip still attached to my waist. It was a comforting gesture, settling my mind of the frantic thoughts that swirled inside, threatening to swallow me whole. It was a gesture I remembered doing whenever Kypherous had been particularly brutal in his treatment of me.
Grey jerked the wheel to the side with enough violence I half expected it to rip clean off the steering column. The blaring sound of horns from the cars in the queue behind us had me digging my nails into the car seat. A car crash like this might not kill me but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt like hell.
Grey pulled the handbrake and turned to face me. “What’s the problem?” His confrontational attitude made me want to lash out and punch him square in the face. I resisted the urge, instead curling my fingers into fists.
“What was that back there?” I said. “Hell, what’s with your magic spilling over onto me?”
He looked away, studying his fingers that were still gripping the steering wheel. Pulling the keys from the car, he tossed them over to me and pushed open the driver’s door, narrowly avoiding the oncoming car that nearly ripped it from his hand.
“Where are you going?” I called as he slid out onto the street.
“I need to clear my head,” he said, without turning to look at me, “just take the car back to the office, I’ll find my own way back.”
“Grey, don’t be like this,” I said but he slammed the door in my face, leaving me alone in the SUV, the ticking sound of the engine as it cooled syncing with my heartbeat.
Within seconds a fine mist coated the windscreen, blurring my view of Grey until he was nothing but a graceful silhouette, artfully dodging through the cars on the street. He disappeared down a side street as the overhead light in the car flicked off.
Glancing down at the keys and the note still clutched in my hand, I released a sigh. Why did he have to be so goddamned moody all the time?
Throwing one leg over the centre console, I shimmied into the driver’s seat with a little wriggling and some very unladylike grunting. Heat suffused my cheeks as I spotted a young man in a shirt and loosened tie openly staring at me. He sat across from me, caught in the traffic that had built up since Grey had abandoned me.
Loose-Tie guy caught my eye and winked lasciviously.
My fingers slipped from the steering wheel to my waist and I contemplated showing him the whip, considering how bold he’d been already, he’d just think I was flirting. I let the whip go.
He continued to stare, his eyes boring into me as I sat rigid behind the wheel and stuck the keys in the ignition. The engine rumbled to life, the window-wipers clacking and squeaking noisily, clearing the mist that had blurred my view of the world.
I flicked on my indicator, the rhythmic ticking soothing my anger. I glanced at the note I’d left on the passenger seat. It was written in the original language of the fae. It had taken me time to identify it, but now that I had, I felt stupid for not recognising it straight away.
I couldn’t read it but the woman who’d given it to me had done so for a reason, it was obviously important. If Grey had stayed, I’d have shown it to him. I couldn’t say with any certainty that he could read old-fae but he was my best shot.
Except he was gone.
Could the day get any worse?
A gap appeared in the traffic and I started to pull out but Loose-Tie guy beat me to it, edging his cherry red Porsche forward effectively blocking me in. Rage bubbled up from my core as his shit eating grin caught my attention.
Asshole thought he was flirting with me.
Loose-Tie guy gestured to me, mouthing something as he buzzed the passenger side window down. I couldn’t hear him, more than that, I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. I’d met more than my fair share of jerks like him and they all tended to sound the same.
Focusing on the steering wheel, power came easily to my call and I felt it filling my eyes. Turning my head slightly, I met his gaze, satisfaction curling like a well fed cat in my gut as the grin he was wearing died, leaving nothing but horror in its wake. The cars ahead of him moved, the space opening up.
Panic flooded into his expression and his car shot backwards, followed by the inevitable scream of rubber on the road and the gratifying crunch of metal as he hit the car behind him. Punching my boot on the accelerator, the SUV lurched into the flow of traffic to the sweet sound of blaring horns. I glanced in the rear-view mirror and found Loose-Tie guy frozen behind his steering wheel, his face twisted into a mask of terror. Even from this distance I could see the beads of sweat that slid down his forehead. I’d terrified enough humans in my time to know that each droplet of sweat would feel icy, his skin clammy, heart beat racing, blood pressure dangerously low.
My anger faded, leaving behind it the bitter taste of disgust. What was I doing? Screwing with the humans just because I was pissed off was no excuse. I was everything they feared. A monster to hang their nightmares on. It was too easy, like shooting fish in a barrel.
Loose-Tie guy jumped and half crawled out of his seat and over the centre console of his car as a stranger tapped on his window. His eyes were too wide, chest rapidly rising and falling as he started to hyperventilate. His head swivelled round, expression confused as he spotted my SUV in the traffic ahead of him. Disorientation was just another symptom of running into one of my kind.
Guilt gnawed at me. Screwing with the humans wouldn’t do the preternaturals any good. It was a lesson I’d learned with the Shellycoats. They disliked trespassers but for all intents and purposes were good-natured, peaceful even.
A young man had watched a few too many nature documentaries and wanted to play at being an amateur filmmaker. They’d found him floating face down in the water two days later. Despite the police finding no signs of foul play it hadn’t stopped the locals from blaming the shy creatures that lived in the river. They’d hunted them down, capturing the young and torturing them so as to draw the adults out of hiding. I’d found a few of the bodies personally and it was a sight
I’d never forget. Even now, in the relative safety of the SUV it sent a shiver of unease coursing down my spine.
No, messing with the humans led only to disaster. The balance was delicate and all too easy to upset.
My grandmother had been the victim of that kind of fear-fuelled hatred and I needed to watch that I didn’t follow too closely in her footsteps.
Chapter 11
Pulling up in front of the studio, I sat behind the steering wheel letting the pitter patter of the rain on the windscreen clear my head. The lights were on, the welcoming yellow glow from the windows beckoned me inside and still I sat.
After I’d dropped Grey’s SUV off at the office, I’d contemplated leaving straight away. Instead, I’d crept into his office and taken the files pertaining to the case from his desk. Glancing over at the pile of thick beige folders on the passenger seat, I squashed down the unease that turned my stomach. Confidential files weren’t supposed to leave Division 6, that had been drilled into me from when I’d first worked there. And yet…
Reaching over, I scooped the files from the seat onto the passenger side foot well. No one would see them in the darkness and anyway, I was relatively confident that in this town, nobody would dare break into my old Land Rover.
Stepping out into the rain, I paused for a moment, savouring the feel of the tiny spears of icy water as they splattered against my skin. I’d never really understood why people bothered running in the rain, their need to escape it wasn’t something I shared. It wasn’t my favourite, not by a long shot, but considering I’d chosen to live in Britain it seemed pointless to rail against the almost interminable mist that shrouded the island.
The cold on the other hand, well, that was a different beast altogether.
Locking the car behind me, I crossed the pavement and stepped into the studio. Megan sat behind the desk, her gaze glued to the computer screen in front of her. I stepped through the glass doors and the crystal ding of an electronic bell filtered through the computer speakers.
“What was that?”
“Instant Message,” she said without looking up. “I didn’t think you were coming in tonight.” She absentmindedly smoothed down a stray strand of chestnut brown hair, tucking it behind her ear. Returning her hair to its natural colouring had been Adrian’s first lesson for her and from the looks of things, it was one she’d apparently aced.
“I need to clear my head,” I said, heading for the stairs.
“That bad, huh?” She tore herself away from the bright screen with its blinking message boxes and notifications and propped her chin on her hand, her blue eyes regarding me steadily. “You look terrible,” she said finally.
“Thanks.” There was no mistaking the sarcasm in my voice and colour swept up over Megan’s freckled cheeks and disappeared into her hairline.
“I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just—”
“It’s fine, forget it. I already know I look like crap. It’s definitely been one of those days.”
She nodded sympathetically and before she could pass further comment, I made my escape up the staircase.
The overhead lights flickered to life, the golden glow making the room feel warmer than it actually was. Not that it would matter once I’d done my stretches and warmed my muscles up.
Grabbing my gym bag and a fighting staff from the storage closet, I headed into the bathroom and quickly changed into my sweats before moving into the centre of the room.
Closing my eyes, I drew my breath in slowly, letting it fill each and every air-sac in my lungs. Holding onto it, I waited for my lungs to begin burning. It didn’t take long. The air inside me ached for release, my heartbeat slowly picking up its rhythmic beat as panic sent a flush of cold sweat dancing across my skin.
I let go, releasing the air so that it boiled out of my body, leaving my senses reeling. I repeated the action over and with each passing second my body relaxed into the feel of the staff in my hands. It was nothing more than an extension of my arms, a part of my being. A conduit through which I could direct my energy.
For some, the staff was a weapon, giving them the ability to wound larger prey, adding reach to their blows. I didn’t need the staff, my body was all the weapon I needed. But the staff made my meditation so much easier, even pleasant. Plus, the practice prevented me from getting rusty. Really, it was a win-win all round.
Energy built within my core, coiling with every breath I took, a cobra poised to strike.
Dipping the staff to the floor, I let the familiar Aikido jo katas flow, one action leading into the next. With each fluid movement my mind quietened until there was nothing but the feel of the smooth wooden staff in my grip and my breath as I performed each practice.
Magic pulsed beneath my skin, begging for release but I held onto it. Binding it to the motion, each rise of the staff a little faster than the last, my feet barely touching the cold wooden boards as I spun and twisted and my breath came in short violent gasps.
The sound of applause ripped me from my meditation and I jerked clumsily to a halt, almost stumbling over the last sweep of the staff. Twirling the staff in my hands with a speed borne of practice, I held it in front of my chest, my body tense and ready for attack.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to take you by surprise,” the stranger said, his rich baritone curling around me. There was a slight accent to his words that I couldn’t quite pinpoint.
The seconds ticked by and sweat slid across my skin, cooling quickly as it dripped down my spine. I tightened my grip on the staff, my fingers whitening under the pressure. My chest rose and fell in a violent rhythm as I regarded the intruder. If I’d been an animal, my fur would have stood at attention.
“The girl downstairs said I could come up,” he said, raising his hands apologetically, “I really didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Narrowing my eyes, I lowered the staff, the end hitting the floor with a dull thud. Trust Megan to let someone interrupt my meditation. It was the last time I would let her man the door while I practiced.
“I can go if this isn’t a good time.”
The stranger was tall, even standing with one shoulder propped against the doorjamb he towered over me. The blue t-shirt he wore did nothing to conceal his broad shoulders and everything to enhance the warm bronze of his skin. The t-shirt was dotted with dark spots. I trailed my gaze down over him, my eyes lingering on the droplets that clung to the fair hairs on his arms.
Raindrops. Clearly he wasn’t bothered by the rain, either. His chest tapered down into a narrow waist, accentuated by the unforgiving grey jeans he wore.
“Sorry again,” he said, my silence was obviously making him uncomfortable.
Lifting his hand, he proceeded to brush it back through his dark, copper coloured hair, the glistening raindrops that had clung to each strand scattered around him as he gave me a shy smile. His hair stood up from his head where he’d touched it, a gentle wave forming that made me think he wouldn’t be out of place on a beach with a surf-board in his hands.
“I’m going to go.”
“If you were going to leave, you’d have done so already,” I said, finally breaking my silence.
“She speaks,” he said with a grin. Looking like that, he was probably used to women falling over his every word.
“I’m Eli.” He one-handedly gestured to himself. “Are you Jenna?”
“What do you want?”
The harshness of my words appeared to take him by surprise and his tawny eyes widened for a moment before his disarming smile was back.
“I’m looking for a tutor,” he said, “this seemed like a good place to start.” He gave a Gallic shrug, his hair flopping rakishly into his face, momentarily concealing his eyes.
Would he flinch if I pushed them out of his face? The thought popped into my head and instantly, I crushed it. Life was complicated enough without making it worse.
“A tutor.” I repeated the words as though by saying them aloud I could make better sense of them.
&
nbsp; “Yeah,” he said, gesturing to the staff still held in my hands. “I’ve done a little martial arts before, dabbled in some Judo and Taekwondo but nothing serious.”
I swallowed back a sigh. Generally when people said they’d dabbled in marital arts it meant they’d once watched a self-defence tutorial on the internet and now thought of themselves as experts.
Eli straightened, pushing away from the wall. I’d been right to think he would tower over me. Not that size was a problem, the bigger they were, the harder they fell…
He moved into the room, tracking along the edges of the wall with a sinuous grace that spoke of him being more than a dabbler.
I wasn’t particularly prone to nervousness but watching Eli prowl around the space, and prowl was the only word I could use to accurately describe his movements, caused my throat to grow dry and my tongue to stick to the roof of my mouth. I readjusted my grip on the staff. From this distance I couldn’t tell if he was human or not, and if there was one thing I disliked it was feeling at a disadvantage in my own space. Tension sang through my body and I fought to keep my expression neutral.
Watching him move reminded me of a nature documentary I’d watched a few weeks before. The lions stalking their prey, observing them through the long grass.
I wasn’t used to feeling like the prey. And yet—
“I saw the sign up in town about classes so I wanted to swing by and…” he trailed off and met my eyes. “You okay?”
He paused near the wall of mirrors at the end of the room, still too far away for me to figure out what he was.
“Fine.” Despite sounding curt, it at least sounded relatively normal and for that I was grateful.
“You’re really good,” he said, his smile still the same disarming one it had been from the beginning but I could tell from the tone in his voice that he was confused by my reaction.
I, however, wasn’t. My paranoia for strangers came as a by-product from my time spent in Kypherous’ care. He’d done this to me, made me look at everyone differently. The constant spikes in adrenaline were exhausting but necessary and they’d kept me alive.
Stakes and Stones Page 9