The Last Danann (Titanian Chronicles, #2)

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The Last Danann (Titanian Chronicles, #2) Page 22

by Victoria Saccenti


  “The poison in his system indicates a drone weapon attack.”

  “It does.”

  “All right.” She pushed from him, dropping a foot on the floor to stand.

  “What are you doing?” He tightened his hold around her waist.

  “We need protection. Until we speak with Vallen and learn what took place, the cottage must be protected.” Frowning, Talaith pushed harder to stand. “It’s a necessary precaution. We have no wards up. Nothing’s stopping them from coming back.”

  “You have a point.” He let her go.

  Talaith walked to the door. Murmuring a flurry of unintelligible words, she held up one hand in a stopping gesture, then swept along the foyer, the kitchen, rooms, and every possible spot until she’d covered the entire living space. A thread of platinum light followed her as she went.

  “There.” She beamed. “Although the wards are temporary, they will hold for forty-eight hours. By then we should have enough information to make decisions.”

  “Good, and since you’re feeling stronger, let’s check on Vallen.”

  “Right.” She turned on her heel. “He should be waking up soon. We got to him before the poison could do a lot of damage.”

  She knelt next to Vallen, evaluating his condition while Kailen watched.

  “The sickly color is gone,” he said. “He looks better, almost normal.”

  Kailen thought of Patty’s long convalescence after the drone attack in the Manhattan bar. Werelynx showed resilience to drone poison, or at least this particular lynx did. An idea sparked in his mind. What if lynx had a natural delaying antidote to drone poisoning? And what if this antidote could be transfused to other species? It might be worth investigating, if Vallen agreed to be studied…

  Vallen stirred and pushed the blanket down to his waist. His eyelids fluttered. Frowning, he moaned, “I’m sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Kailen said.

  Talaith touched his forehead. “His temperature is almost normal.”

  “No. You don’t understand.” Vallen’s eyes opened wide. He held Kailen’s wrist with an iron grip. “They took it.”

  “Hush, calm down,” Kailen murmured.

  “They had a purpose, came looking for it.”

  “Easy, easy,” Talaith soothed.

  He turned to her. “I did my best, faked ignorance, but he knew, he knew.”

  “Who?” Kailen had to ask.

  “The elf lord. I’ve seen him. He’s one of the ancients.” He shook Kailen’s wrist.

  “Ancients?” Kailen swallowed in disbelief. “The elf lord…? Do you mean Alain?” He crossed his gaze with Talaith’s. She was as stunned as he.

  “Yes… Maybe his name was Alain… His people called him lord.” Vallen exhaled. “I remember him, from long ago.”

  “Please, Vallen, calm down. Take a deep breath,” she said. “There’s no rush to speak.”

  “But, what if…?”

  Brushing his forehead, she smiled. “The cottage is shielded, and wards are up. And if they have what they came for, there’s no reason to return.” She turned to Kailen. “Can you get him some water? He’s dehydrated.”

  “Right away.”

  As he walked to the refrigerator, he overheard Vallen speaking in a calmer tone.

  “I’d just come out of the shower when the front of the house blew…in, out… I don’t remember. Two elves, one definitely the leader—you could tell by the regal attitude—a lieutenant, and one of those horrible creatures entered my home, like kings in their realm. Bastards. They wanted Khnurn’s talisman. I played dumb and denied knowing anything about it, but the elf laughed. He even knew you guys were in the school chasing Dubtach. Freaked me out that he knew so much. He gave orders to search. The lieutenant and elf tore the house apart while the drone watched me.”

  Kailen returned with a bottle of water.

  “Thank you, I’m parched.” Vallen took two large gulps. “I could’ve done a better job hiding the pendant. I’d left it in my top drawer. In their happiness, they made quite a commotion. I used that distraction to run and try to shift, but they saw me and everything went south. I got hit with a beam that halted the phase. It hurt like hell. The house was destroyed and I was wounded. I lost consciousness after that. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect the amulet.”

  Talaith patted Vallen’s hand. “Don’t do that. You were outmatched. Alain’s involvement in this matter raises the level of danger and suggests possible complications.” She gave Kailen a knowing look. “Khnurn’s talisman is a source of extreme power. It was entrusted to him to maintain universal balance. Not everyone can wield that much magic.”

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Kailen folded his arms over his chest.

  “Well, I’m not thinking. I’m quite lost,” Vallen muttered.

  Her brow gathered in concentration. “For one thing, the vision I had in the Manhattan bar was accurate. Alain has a hand in this. It’s possible two different factions are after Khnurn and his pendant. One faction is Dubtach and Rhonda, the dark-haired lady from the school lab. Alain and his associates are the competing faction. Both groups are fighting for Khnurn’s power and the supremacy that power brings.”

  “Good grief,” Vallen exclaimed.

  “Indeed,” Kailen said. “We have to take this bombshell up the chain of command.” He pulled out his phone and tapped on his keypad. “Text sent. Soren was expecting us. I delayed our return to tomorrow.”

  “Vallen, are you feeling any better?” she asked. “Can you stand? You need to sleep in a proper bed.”

  “Much.” Vallen lifted a hand, asking for a boost. Once on his feet, he rolled one shoulder, then bent to the side testing the wound and his strength. “Good job, Talaith. I’m a little sore, nothing more. A bed sounds great.”

  “We all need to rest and get a decent night’s sleep,” Kailen said. “Tomorrow, before we teleport to New York, we’ll help you straighten out the place. If you don’t feel comfortable staying here, you can come with us.”

  “Thanks, but no,” Vallen said. “I’d rather go to my place in Mount Mitchell. I haven’t been up there in a long time. The area is pretty isolated, plus I can shift at ease and stay in my lynx form unmolested.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Our New York home will always be available to you, my friend. Meanwhile, we’ll help you fix your room.”

  “No, you guys go on. I can do it, I’ll be fine,” Vallen protested.

  “What do you think, a stór. Is he in any condition?”

  “Ridiculous,” she said. “It’ll take us two minutes.”

  Kailen led Talaith to Vallen’s bedroom. The shifter followed, muttering all sorts of protestations. Pausing at the entrance, Kailen glared at the destruction in silence. Undeterred, Talaith swept inside, her pretty lavender eyes evaluating the mess as she moved.

  Waving at him, she stood next to the dresser blocking the middle of the room. “Help me push?”

  Once the piece was out of the way, she picked up a drawer and cocked an eyebrow. Chuckling at her gesture, he completed the process by sliding the remaining drawers in place.

  The strewn clothes she piled on a side table while speaking to Vallen. “I’m leaving these here. You can sort them out in the morning.”

  Next, she walked to the bed. With her fists on her hips, she shook her head. Although the top had been cut, it could be used for one night. Half was sitting on the floor. “Kailen, would you lift the other end?”

  He nodded. In seconds, the mattress was squared away.

  Talaith sped around as if the room and décor had been hers. Kailen obeyed her orders, his spirit reveling in her presence, enjoying her life force. With her every gesture and glance, the crippling fear he’d experienced in the school slipped away. The separation had terrified him. Although he trusted her abilities to defend herself, he also knew—as was proven by Khnurn’s capture—anyone, even the most powerful, could be tricked and overwhelmed. The throb on his head was
an embarrassing reminder.

  He would not lose her, nor could he endure life without her, he decided. Whatever idiotic intentions he might have entertained of resisting or pushing her away, the strength of his love obliterated them. If Dubtach took her from him, he’d follow the mage to the depths of Tartarus itself. He’d find a way to convince Hades to release her, and unlike Orpheus, he’d succeed in bringing her out.

  If not… He’d fulfilled every demand the universe had placed before him and had nothing left to give to this life. Fritiof wouldn’t deny his termination request.

  The universal gods had been kind, and his worst fear hadn’t been realized. He had her now, and even though the circumstances were hardly normal, this mundane operation of tidying up a room filled his heart with joy and a contentment he’d never experienced before.

  “What is it?” she asked, holding up a crushed pillow.

  “Oh, nothing.” He shrugged.

  “I don’t think so.” Smiling sideways, she moved closer to him.

  Her fragrance demolished the control he’d been so proud of. His emotions rushed to the surface, wanting to fly.

  “Talaith,” he murmured. “This is not the best time.”

  “Really?” Her lavender eyes searched his face. “Why must we wait to share our thoughts, our feelings? Danger is all around us, Kailen. No one has promised us a happy future. This moment is all we have. If we allow it to pass…”

  “Not anymore,” he groaned as he took her lips in a slow, devouring kiss. Holding her waist with both hands, he brought her hard against his chest. Arching forward, Talaith offered her mouth. Her small tongue caressed his, and he was lost for a moment.

  He released her lips. “My heart is yours, a cuishle mo croí. Absolutely. Should anything happen or attempt to interfere with us, please remember, I belong to you unconditionally.”

  The sound of Vallen clearing his throat made him smile. He’d forgotten about the shifter. Most likely, he was still confused and didn’t know what to do or say.

  Kailen turned, holding Talaith’s hand. “Sorry, friend. I lost my head for a moment. I think you’re squared for the night. And on that note, I’m taking my lady to our room. We have important matters to discuss.” He winked and walked out.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The sweet scent of woodland phlox enhanced the placid atmosphere in Soren’s garden. A stark contrast to the chaos Kailen and Talaith had experienced in deceptively sleepy little Hillsborough. In this beautiful setting, hidden to human eyes and heavily protected from unwarranted incursions, it was difficult to imagine hostilities between bands of species and magic wielders had begun.

  “I’d like to clean up and change before seeing Soren and Maya,” Talaith murmured as they exited the portal. “I feel pretty grungy.”

  “Go ahead. I’d kill for a shower myself, but Soren is anxious to hear from us. I’ll keep him entertained with preliminary information until you join us and we can do a complete debrief.”

  “Thanks.”

  She pecked his cheek, then turned toward her room. Kailen headed left, mulling over a few highlights in case Soren pressed him. As he reached the second level, the discussion flowing out of the strategy room sounded heated. He recognized Soren’s booming voice above Gustaf’s and Fritiof’s, which was an unexpected surprise. The Westerbergs rarely transported from their abodes unless a major event required their attendance.

  He came to the threshold, glanced at the scowling trio inside, and stopped, wondering if he should slowly step back, run to Talaith’s room, and join her in the shower.

  Soren saw his hesitation and waved him in. “Uh-uh. Not so fast, my friend. You’re not escaping. There’s a mountain of crap to discuss and dissect.”

  Folding his hands behind his back, he entered the long strategy room, nodding respectfully at the older Titanians seated in a two-against-one formation, Soren being the single party. “Gustaf, Fritiof. Lords, what a nice surprise. It’s good to see you. How are the ladies, Beatrix and Adalheidis?”

  “They’re fine, you old devil. And it’s great to see you too.” Laughing, Fritiof stood and gave him a hug, slapping his back with affection. “You look a bit worn out. How bad was it?”

  “Complicated,” Kailen said, turning to shake Gustaf’s hand.

  “So, I hear,” Gustaf said. “Soren told us what little he gathered from your texts. Khnurn’s kidnapping is problematic. How is my friend Vallen doing? Did he treat you well?”

  Kailen ignored Gustaf’s veiled criticism about his skimpy communications. “He’s a cool guy. Friendly, helpful, and hospitable. I felt bad when he got hurt.”

  Gustaf widened his eyes. “What do you mean, hurt?”

  “Vallen’s fine now. He’s a sturdy lynx. During our report, we will discuss the attack and the resulting injury in detail.” Kailen gazed around the room looking for Maya. She’d help him change the subject. “Where’s Maya?”

  “Downstairs on the phone with Anna,” Soren answered. “Her godmother is staying somewhere near Vancouver with her coven. The ladies are preparing to celebrate Litha, the summer solstice. Maya tells me it’s a month-long festival. She’ll join us soon.”

  “Perfect. That’ll give Talaith time to finish her shower. I don’t want to start the briefing until both women are present. It’s a long story, and I don’t want to repeat myself,” Kailen grumbled in a half-bad mood. Last night, he’d slept a few hours thanks to Talaith’s closeness, but he already felt the strain of what was to come. Opposing forces were planning their moves and countermoves. Skirmishes for power between the races were bound to escalate. If Khnurn was lost, Talaith and other sorcerers would have to step in. The idea froze him to the core.

  Gods, he was tired. Why couldn’t there be a reset button somewhere? He’d press it right now and take six months off. He sat on the first available club chair and dropped his head back.

  “You don’t have to say much, old friend. Your expression does it for you. It’s not promising.” Fritiof’s voice was soft.

  “That’s because you know me too well. It’s actually worse than you think. Let’s wait for Maya and Talaith.” Kailen squinted. The late afternoon light pouring through a western-facing window, hit him straight in his eyes. Turning sideways, he combed his hair with his fingers. I need a haircut. As the odd thought surprised him, a different one popped up, giving him pause.

  “Hold on, I just realized… Brysys is supposed to be here, right?”

  Rolling his eyes, Soren leaned an elbow on his armrest. “May the gods give me patience. She is here, and honestly, I wish she’d return to Kinlochleven or wherever the heck you found her,” he grated. “She has an opinion about everything, and no tact. Her social graces are minimal to nonexistent. I’d say she lost them during her captivity.”

  “Sounds challenging,” Gustaf chimed in. “How is Maya handling her?”

  “Maya is the angel of tolerance. It’s me. I’m the one who can’t take the druid, although… I’ve caught my sweetheart frowning a few times. She may be nearing the end of her patience too.”

  “We’ll have to smooth the rough edges somehow, Soren,” Kailen said. “The way this situation is coming down, we’re going to need every magic wielder friendly to our cause and willing to help.”

  “Can’t we get the conversation started? Give me something to chew on at least,” Gustaf urged as he stood and began pacing. “I’m getting anxious here. I feel like I’m wasting precious time.”

  “Ten, fifteen minutes won’t make any difference, brother,” Fritiof murmured. “We can wait.”

  Gustaf blew a breath and quickened his pace around the room.

  A pang of hunger twisted Kailen’s stomach. Hours had passed since this morning’s coffee and toast. Leaving the chair, he walked to the house phone. “Anyone hungry or thirsty?” Holding the receiver, he waited for responses.

  “There he is, back home less than an hour, and already taking charge.” Soren laughed. “I bet you missed this.”

  “
Let me tell you, managing this house is way better than dealing with death magic,” he huffed. “Requests, anyone?”

  “I’d love some coffee,” Gustaf said.

  “Me too,” Fritiof added.

  “Order the usual, Kailen. Coffee, tea, and seltzer water,” Soren instructed. “And hey, ask Zola for sandwiches too. Tell her to use the rosemary bread she bought the other day. Really good stuff.”

  Woody answered the call in the kitchen. Kailen turned from the crowd, covering the ear exposed to the room. He’d just finished the order when from behind him, a pair of hands blocked his vision.

  “What?” Irritated, he yanked one hand away and looked over his shoulder.

  “Hello, handsome.” A smiling Brysys laced her hands around his neck and plopped a wet kiss on his cheek. “We missed you,” she exclaimed loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. She’d caught him off guard, and he’d reacted too late to avoid her kiss.

  Unhappy with himself, he wiped his cheek dry, pushed her hands down, and stepped back. A strong pull, a silent call wafting across the ether, reached him from the doorway, and he glanced up. Gods of the universe. Of course, Talaith stood watching. Her cocked eyebrow indicated she’d seen the druid’s actions. Towering behind Talaith Maya grinned, amused by his predicament.

  There was nothing he could do except give a polite, noncommittal response and move on with what little dignity he had left. He turned his attention to the sorceress, and the perfunctory smile he was about to offer froze.

  “Um… You look recovered, Brysys.” He did his best to hide the surprise in his voice.

  Forsaking the traditional druid gown, Brysys had chosen a short denim skirt and a floral top that barely made it to her waist. A slender teenager should be wearing this outfit, not a curvy female several centuries old. A sudden wave of pity flooded him. Brysys was a complex female with a history to match. Like a greedy child, she latched on to anyone who’d give her the attention she sought. Let her turn her eyes to Eachann. That was where her problems began and ended.

 

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