The Last Danann (Titanian Chronicles, #2)

by Victoria Saccenti

  “He’s not here to defend himself,” she countered.

  “That was his choice. I sent him an invitation, and you came in his stead. That’s already bad form.”

  The jaguar turned to the crowd, held up a small gavel to initiate the proceedings, and stopped. Two males stood at the door. The tallest of the two studied the guests with a haughty arched eyebrow. After a short pause, he signaled to his companion and then strode in. Wearing a pair of khaki pants and polo shirt, there was nothing outstanding about the dark-haired male. If Talaith saw him milling about the streets of any given city, he could have passed for human. His companion was a different matter. The creature’s skin glowed from the inside with the reddish-black hue of burning coals. He entwined his raven hair with a length of white cotton in a turban of sorts and wore sandals and thin cotton pants tied at the ankles. The muscles on his bare chest flexed as he moved. A low-riding bronze choker carved with unfamiliar, runelike symbols and arm bracelets in the same design and of the same metal completed the exotic look. Tiny flames flared all over this creature, including in his eyes. Bewildered, Talaith shook Kailen’s arm to get his attention.

  Kailen was already watching. “What the hell? He brought an ifrit.” He pursed his lips.

  “Not good,” Zuberi whispered. “Volatile and moody creatures.”

  Talaith glanced at the tiny man to see if he was joking. He wasn’t.

  Pointing a trembling finger, Gisela stood a few inches at a time. “Why is he here? He’s a duplicitous troublemaker and hates my father. Their enmity is well known.”

  “Prince Idrás, the chosen representative of the demon race, is a member of this council,” Ramiro explained in the same patient tone he’d used before, then turned to Idrás. “Welcome, Lord. Your place is next to Eachann. Your guest, however, stays with the others.”

  Idrás’s smile had an obsequious quality to it. Talaith’s skin crawled.

  “But, Ramiro.” Idrás bowed, pressing a fist over his heart. “Temu is my most intimate friend and loyal attendant, if you grasp my meaning.”

  The jaguar’s nostrils flared. He lifted a corner of his lip, and a sharp fang peeked out. The warning was clear. “I do grasp your meaning. Nevertheless, rules are rules. Temu sits with everyone else. There’s plenty of room for him.”

  “I’m sorry, sweet boy.” Idrás ran a finger along Temu’s prominent cheekbone. “They’re not playing nice today. I’ll make it up to you later. Okay?”

  “Yes, Master.” As Temu bowed, his flames extinguished, a bright light flashed, and he phased into a more human form. He turned and chose a chair across from Talaith. He stared at her as he settled down.

  His scrutiny gave her the willies. Shuddering, she blinked and gazed at her folded hands. When she looked again, the ifrit’s adoring gaze was on his master. Had she or had she not seen him staring?

  Talaith murmured, “Amazing magic.”

  Kailen released a sharp breath. “More like subterranean ifrit magic.” He took her hand in his and settled against the backrest of his chair.

  What?

  Gods, the learning didn’t cease. Her education had been woefully lopsided, too many years spent in a desert hut immersed in nothing but magic. Khnurn had never bothered to discuss the full spectrum of supernatural species she’d encounter one day. She wanted to ask Kailen what he meant by that comment. His attention had returned to Ramiro, so she let the question go for now.

  Ramiro rapped his gavel on a small block. “We now open this emergency meeting of the High Council. Accusations against Lord Alain of the elves will be presented and examined. Furthermore, we shall hear information about an existing conspiracy involving supernatural races, humans, and the exiled daemons with the purpose of toppling our council and replacing our current government with an absolutist tyranny. For the record, I, Ramiro da Cruz, hereby declare that I have been entrusted by the races entered in the document to represent their interests and vote accordingly in this emergency session. First, we shall listen to his exalted excellency, Lord Aten of the Auricians, who wishes to address the council.”

  Talaith blew out a sigh, then caught Fritiof’s amused wink. The Titanian had warned everyone before leaving New York that the High Council meetings were verbose and endless. She leaned her head on Kailen’s shoulder.

  He chuckled. “The first day is the worst. We’ll move faster tomorrow.”

  “Promise?”

  “Barring any unforeseen complications, absolutely.”

  He squeezed her hand, and she allowed her mind to take off in a daydream, where Lord Aten’s voice softened and faded in the distance. Later, Kailen could give her a synopsis. She didn’t need to hear the full speech.

  By the time the gavel fell again and the meeting closed, Talaith’s right butt cheek and thigh had fallen asleep, and her neck had pinched from leaning on Kailen’s shoulder. After a discreet light massage, she recovered partial mobility. Holding on to Kailen’s arm, she moved with the crowd to a beautiful semialfresco dining area. Tall French doors, embellished with stained glass windows in a semicircle across the top, had been opened throughout, allowing the cool evening breeze to flow unimpeded.

  Dinner progressed smoothly. No feathers were ruffled and most egos survived intact. One table over, Gisela laughed, more like cackled, the sound a touch on the exaggerated side. Idrás, happily reunited with his darling, Temu, still in human form, fed the ifrit morsels of food by hand.

  For someone like Talaith, this kind of boisterous festivity was somewhat taxing to her system. She was a child of the desert, raised in arid conditions where conversations were spare and emotions, despite their red-hot intensity, were rarely expressed. Kailen was here, and that was enough reason for her to adapt and blend in. Every minute she spent with him was cherished and precious. As life had taught her, happiness could be snatched at a moment’s notice.

  She grabbed the occasion with both hands, and was treated to a feast of pão de queijo, moqueca, feijoada, assorted barbecued meats with garlic sauces, and copious amounts of red wine. Caipirinhas had been offered, but she took one sniff of the potent cachaça spirits, glanced at the beverage made of crushed mint leaves, and turned it down, terrified of getting drunk, which she did anyway. When sweet quindim was served, her stomach had reached its capacity.

  “I can’t take another bite.”

  “No surprise there, a stór.” Kailen spoke close to her ear. “You’ve managed to put quite a lot of food away. Not to mention wine. Did you have fun?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  Maya chuckled from across the table. “Look out, she’s tilting.”

  Talaith blinked. Why is my dear friend laughing?

  “I think it’s time I take her home,” Kailen said.

  Is Kailen laughing too?

  The room wasn’t as steady as she would like, plus a secondary floor lifted and swiveled. She closed one eye and took a deep breath. That steadied the motion some.

  “Come on, sweetheart.” Kailen pushed his seat back and held her arm, gesturing for her to do the same.

  Something mysterious had happened to her sandals. She couldn’t find them anywhere and said so, “My shoes, Kailen. I don’t know where they went.”

  “Look down.”

  Magically, her sandals appeared next to her feet. Grinning, she slipped her toes in and stood.

  Everyone at the table wished them good night. She flicked her fingers while her body, having a mind of its own, leaned forward and around. Kailen intervened, placing a hand on her shoulder, and she straightened.

  On the way back, his strong arm secured her waist. She thrilled at the delightful sensation while a flurry of shapes, colors, and blurs filled her vision.

  He led her inside their chambers. Unsure and confused, she swayed in place, her balance close to failing her. A thought came up, something she’d wanted from before. A need, a desire she’d had and wanted to fulfill. She gazed at Kailen. Did he know what it was? Had she told him?

  Uh, too complicated… Sh
e swatted the air.

  She reached for the neckline of her gown, wrestled with the hook above the zipper, but the closure didn’t give. Frustrated, she pulled at it.

  “I can’t.” She dropped her head forward and her arms at her sides.

  “Let me help you.” His hands, soft and gentle, released the hook. As the gown swished to the floor, he scooped her up and brought her to the bed. His movements were quick and deft as he removed the lacy bra she’d worn, hoping to seduce him, then covered her body with the silky sheets.

  “Sleep.” He kissed the tip of her nose.

  “No, this isn’t right… I wanted…” Now she remembered. “I wanted to love you.”

  “You love me anyway.”

  “No… That’s not what I mean.”

  “I know what you mean, and you’re going to give me everything and more, but after you sleep.”

  Kailen moved to the other side of the bed, dropped his gown, and climbed on. Wrapping his arms around her, he wedged his body against hers. She sighed with the pleasure of close contact. His skin was warm and supple, his erection found the perfect place between her butt cheeks, and her sex tingled with approval. And yet…while arousal was present, the intensity was mild. Had wine dulled her senses? Her reactions were slower than usual as a growing lassitude took over her consciousness and she gave in, bowing to his expertise and wisdom.

  “When this feeling passes, I’m going to eat you alive,” she murmured as her eyelids grew heavier.

  He kissed the juncture of her neck and shoulder. “Is that right?”

  “Mmm-hmm. Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll be right here waiting. Good night, love.”

  An insistent throb shoved her out of a colorful, whirlwind dream and pushed her up to the surface and consciousness. She wasn’t ready to wake up and resisted, clinging to the promise of slumber, but the hammer at her temples refused to stop. The pounding redoubled, hit harder, and she finally let go. When she came up for air, her throat was on fire. She went through the motions of swallowing and found no moisture. It was a miserable feeling.

  She waited, allowing her eyes to adapt to the overall darkness and for her senses to come alive. Thankfully, a pale sliver of moonlight slipping through a thin opening in the curtains offered a touch of illumination. Still, it had to be after midnight, and that was an educated guess. The only clock in the room was her phone, and currently, the thing lay facedown on the night table.

  Kailen slept at her side, submerged in the healing, peaceful rest of the innocent. A rare occurrence as he was always on alert, awakening at the slightest movement on her part. Funny, but right now he was so out of it that only the soft rasps of his breathing indicated he was alive.

  Exhaling quietly, Talaith lifted his arm from around her waist and paused. Another moment passed, and when he didn’t react, she sat on the edge of the bed. Snippets of last night’s dinner returned. Most of all, the nonstop stream of goblets of red wine she drank with so much enthusiasm figured in her thoughts. Humans had a term for her condition—hangover, they called it, and she was suffering the full effects.

  Water, must have water, her dehydrated body begged. She saw nothing that resembled water on either night table and despaired. That was when the connecting bathroom whispered her name. Yes, the miraculous faucet offered life-sustaining liquid, and considering her location up in the clouds, the likelihood of drinking contaminated water, thus acquiring a nasty bout of Moctezuma’s dysentery, was slim to none.

  Gingerly, she entered the bathroom, pulled down her pj’s top from the hook behind the door, rushed to the basin, and turned on the faucet. She was about to slurp animal style, when she noticed the shiny water glasses placed on the shelf. She could keep her humanity a few minutes longer.

  The headache was still killing her temples, though. Crossing her fingers, she rummaged through the medicine cabinet and found a plastic bottle with the word aspirina on the label. That was close enough. She gulped two tablets and sighed. The magic combo of aspirin and water would soon work their miracle against the dreaded hangover.

  Donning the top of her pj’s, she returned to the bedroom. Kailen was in the same position. A sudden sense of dread urged her to the bed. She examined him, then carefully lifted the sheet. There was nothing out of the ordinary. His expression was placid and relaxed. A tiny smile curled one corner of his lips. She rubbed her arms, warming her chilled skin. Her imagination was running away with her.

  But now she was fully awake. If her memory was working correctly, a small patio was on the other side of the double garden doors. It was probably beautiful outside. Careful not to make any loud noises, she moved a curtain out of her way and twisted the doorknob. The door panel opened outward, and she slipped onto the patio. She looked up and gasped. One had to travel to isolated locations to admire starry moonlit skies. This property was such a place, and the sight left her breathless. Time to wake up Kailen. This was a must-see view.

  Talaith grasped the knob and twisted it to open. The damned thing didn’t turn or give. The lock remained stiff and unyielding. This didn’t make any sense. She’d walked out without any difficulty. Frowning, she wiggled it, pulled harder and harder still, then changed directions and pushed against it. She punched the top around both sides and below, hoping to loosen the stubborn lock. Kailen should be awake with all the racket she was making.

  “Kailen,” she called out. “Wake up, Kailen! I need help.”

  She took a step back, and then saw glimmering specks floating on the seams of both panels, black diamonds sparkling in the night. A full-on dark spell had locked the door shut.

  Rubbing her palms together, she prepared to release her flames to counterattack and punch a hole through the door. As she lifted her hands to deliver her bolt, a burning lash wound tightly around her ankles. She tumbled forward, striking the door with her head.

  Kailen…was her last thought, and the world went dark.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Kailen flipped on his back. Blinding sunshine streaming through pulled-back curtains hit his face and he turned on his side. That woke him up. Disoriented, somewhat lethargic, and thirsty, he opened his eyelids one tiny millimeter at a time while he tried to guess the time. Judging by the light, early morning had come and gone. He glanced at the empty side of the bed and felt the sheet for Talaith’s warmth. It was room temperature, which meant she’d woken up way before him and was out and about, exploring the grounds.

  Kind of odd, he remembered all the wine she’d consumed during dinner and her cute tipsiness. Today, he’d expected her to move slowly while she nursed the unavoidable headache.

  The pulled-back curtains at the garden doors were another curious matter. He was certain he’d closed them before going to bed.

  Possibly his recall was faulty. Although he rarely drank alcohol, last night, he’d indulged with a caipirinha to toast Ramiro, his family, and his gorgeous home. One cocktail, chased with multiple glasses of water, couldn’t hamper his mental processes and reactions. Mulling over dinner and drinks, he swiveled his legs out and reached for his phone on the night table.

  He tried to swallow, but saliva got stuck in his throat.

  Impossible. Eleven in the morning had to be a mistake. He never slept this long, or as soundly. His senses, trained in battle, stirred at the slightest noise, yet last night, he’d been dead to the world. Strangest of all was Talaith. He was so in tune with her that he would have heard the shower and her careful tiptoeing as she got dressed.

  His phone must have lost power during the night. But no, the battery charge was in the green. And what about the blank screen? No texts or calls? Nothing made sense to him. It was close to noon, and the meeting should have begun two hours ago. Actually, they should be breaking for lunch soon. His absence must have been noticed, so how come Soren, Fritiof, or even Gustaf hadn’t sent him a text…or knocked at his door if he didn’t text back?

  Talaith losing track of time while she explored the fascinating property didn’t co
ncern him too much. The hacienda, staffed as it was with werejaguars armed to the teeth, couldn’t be a safer place.

  Right?

  Kailen jumped to his feet. As he walked to the bathroom, his toes caught the hem of her robe and he almost tripped. He frowned. Deep in his chest, an icy sensation he hadn’t experienced in ages surged and covered his heart. Something was definitely amiss. Talaith was extremely tidy. She wouldn’t have gone out without first picking her robe up off the floor. Now he looked up. One panel of the garden doors was open. The attached curtain swung gently with the breeze. Why would she leave them like that?

  Dread sat heavy on his shoulders. “Calm down. Don’t jump ahead,” he murmured to himself. Slowing his breathing, he walked out to the patio and ran both palms over the cement balcony, studying the banister, and found nothing worrisome or suspicious. He turned to go inside and froze. The edge of the door showed a small indentation with a reddish-brown smudge on top, and a smear in the same color pointed down. He followed the direction. Three blotches stained the cement floor.

  “Talaith!” He ran inside, picked up the tunic he’d worn the night before, and bolted out the door. As he opened his stride to a jog, he dressed hurriedly. The garment could be inside out for all he cared, he only wanted to cover his naked body before he ran into Ramiro, Soren, and the others. Doing his best to swerve around working crew members, he rushed through the outdoor connecting passageway to the hacienda’s main structure.

  Once in the building, he slowed his pace, looking in every direction for a friendly face, but the hallway was empty. He approached the conference room, and arguing voices stopped him at the door. It was pandemonium inside. Scattered in groups, everyone spoke at the same time.

  Soren saw him right away. “Kailen. Where have you been?” The Titanian left the group of Ramiro, Gustaf, and Zuberi.