A Gray Area

by Amy Sumida

  “What information do you want to share?”

  “Oh, no, Amara,” Cyprian purred, “I'm not here to share. I'm here to bargain.”

  “What information do you have to bargain with?” I corrected without surprise.

  “The race of the men you asked me about,” he said smugly. “I'll tell you what they are.”

  I smirked and crossed my legs. “I already know that they're Danutian. In case you don't know; that's the proper name for fairies.”

  Cyprian gaped at me.

  I couldn't help smiling broader. He'd given me enough shocks for me to enjoy surprising him.

  “How did you...” he whispered as he stared at me. “It couldn't have been the Leech. You must have spoken to the other one.”

  “That's right,” I said. “He was a lot more forthcoming than you were.”

  “Really?” Cyprian lost his sexy look. He leaned back against the couch and regarded me solemnly. “What did he tell you?”

  “A lot.”

  “Who is he?”

  “What will you give me for the information?” I asked wryly. “You said you're here to bargain, but I've yet to hear anything that I don't already know.”

  Cyprian laughed; a sound that seemed to have fingers attached to it. Fingers that tickled their way down my thighs.

  “Do you speak Faulin, Ms. Interpreter?” He asked me.

  I lifted a brow at the turn of conversation. “I do.”

  Cyprian said something in his native tongue. I blushed and crossed my arms indignantly over my chest. He'd just told me he could see my nipples through the silk... and exactly what he'd like to do to them.

  “You do indeed speak it,” he said in surprise.

  “Why does that shock you?” I bit out.

  “Very few non-Faulin know our language,” he murmured. “Not even the other races on Bicari speak it.”

  “There are three other races on your home planet, correct?” I asked.

  Cyprian nodded; looking even more impressed.

  “I know their languages too,” I said. “It's one of my talents.”

  “So, I've heard. But I didn't believe it until now,” he murmured. “On Bicari, we were forbidden to speak Faulin in public.”

  I may know the languages, but I didn't know much about the culture of Bicari. There wasn't a lot of books on the subject. I frowned at Cyprian; he'd mentioned something before about his people fleeing their home planet. I had no idea what this had to do with the Danutians, but I couldn't help feeling curious. It was a failing of mine; I loved learning new things.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “My people were considered to be the lowest caste on Bicari.” Cyprian's jaw clenched, and he briefly looked away. Then he straightened his shoulders and stared me in the eye. “It was fear; plain and simple. They were afraid of what we could do; absolutely terrified of desiring us.”

  “So, they oppressed you.”

  “That's a nice way to put it.” His lips tightened. “The truth is they enslaved us and made us into pets. They used our abilities to amuse themselves. If we wanted to feed—to live—we had to bend to their will. If we didn't, they killed us.” He swallowed roughly. “And they did it in horrendous ways. Every death was an opportunity for them to show us how much power they had over us. A chance to torture our entire race.”

  “And yet, I hear titles of mistress and master bandied about at your club,” I noted with a curious tone.

  “We took the roles that were once about oppression and fear and made them into strength and choice; a badge of honor for what we've surmounted,” he said proudly. “When they call me master, it's said with true respect; an acknowledgment not only of someone more powerful than they are but also of someone who protects them with that power.”

  “You called me mistress,” I reminded him.

  “Ah; there are so many layers to that word,” he mused. “We hide our history and our new beginning beneath them. But I'm sure you can tell the difference between sexual theater and real respect.”

  I thought about. “The first time you said it to me, it was part of the game. But the next time you said it, there was more respect in your voice.”

  His eyes glittered with approval. “Just so. When we first met, you showed me a glimpse of your strength, but it wasn't until you showed me your control that I felt true admiration for you.”

  “I'm flattered,” I whispered. “But why are you telling me this, Cyprian?”

  “I suppose I want you to like me.” He gave me a self-conscious smile. “I want you to understand why I've made the choices I have. Why I've created this life for my people and offered them a sanctuary in this human city.”

  I frowned at his words; they seemed odd.

  “I haven't coveted a woman for a very long time,” Cyprian whispered; his eyes flashing. “I haven't craved a woman's esteem for far longer. But the way you looked at me the other day; the way you stared down at me as if I were—” His jaw clenched again. “I learned a long time ago to ignore such looks; to not let them affect me. But you have affected me, Amaranthine. I don't want you to look at me like that ever again.”

  His aura flashed with shades of blue; honest sapphire, loyal ultramarine, focused azure, and earnest cobalt. Oh, my; he was speaking the truth.

  “I'm sorry that I looked at you like that,” I whispered. “I was under the wrong impression. I know better now that you've shared the truth with me. So, thank you for that.”

  Orangey surprise blasted across the blue of his aura, followed by sunshine-yellow happiness. But Cyprian didn't let that joy show on his face. He controlled it; allowing just the barest flicker on his lips as he nodded.

  “Thank you.”

  “I'm lucky; I never experienced anything like the things your people were put through,” I said gently. “But you know enough about me to know that I can understand pain. I can relate to it. I'm sorry I've caused you to remember yours.”

  “One apology is more than enough,” Cyprian murmured; his voice low and real. “More than I expected.”

  “I won't disrespect you again,” I said. “But I can't have you coming around here, bringing me flowers, Cyprian. I'm with Malik. Show me a similar amount of respect and back off.”

  Cyprian's jaw hardened, but he nodded. “I can wait. I'm a patient man.”

  “I'd advise against it,” I said coolly.

  I may sympathize with Cyprian's story, and it may have even changed my perspective on him, but it didn't excuse his current behavior. I'd warned him off, and yet he still persisted. It was getting aggravating.

  “I'm sure you would.” Cyprian's smile wasn't its usual smug self. This one seemed more self-directed. “I will not force myself on you further, but I would like to extend a hand in friendship if you will permit it.”

  “So you can hang around and try to put a wedge between Malik and me?” I shook my head. “No, thank you.”

  “I promise not to interfere with your relationship.” He held his hands up. “I just want to keep the pathways between us open. You're welcome to come by the club anytime you wish.”

  “All right,” I gave in. “Thank you.”

  “Now, back to that exchange of information.” His sexy, smug smile returned.

  “Here we go.” I rolled my eyes.

  “I offer you a name for a name.”

  “You have my attention.” I straightened.

  “I'll give you the Leech's name if you give me that of your new friend.”

  I thought about it. What could Cyprian possibly do with Varian's name? I'd leave off the title. That wouldn't give him much at all. But then, what would the Leech's name give me? If I ever saw Varian again, I could offer it to him. Perhaps he'd recognize it and could locate the man.

  “Agreed,” I said.

  “His name is Terial,” Cyprian said without hesitation.

  “Terial? No title or surname?”

  “Just Terial. It's an unusual name, se esaria. It will be useful, I'm sure.”


  Se esaria; Cyprian had just called me his eternal flower in Faulin. It made me shiver despite myself.

  “Varian,” I said.

  “Just Varian? No title or surname?” He teased me.

  “It's an unusual name, se salo.”

  Cyprian's smile softened. I had called him my friend in his language. It was meant to reaffirm my position as one of friendship and not romance, but I think he read more into the word. He stood up, claimed my hand for another kiss, and strode to the door.

  “Thank you for the pleasant exchange, Amara,” Cyprian said as he went. He opened the door but then stopped and looked back. “And I'm not talking about the information.” His gaze darted to the flowers in the trash. “Those were expensive and difficult to acquire this time of year. Please don't kill them out of spite.”

  Then he left.

  I stared after him for awhile. Then I stood up and fished the flowers out of the trash. They were beautiful, and Cyprian was right; it would be spiteful to waste them. I found a nice vase and put them in water.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I told Malik about Cyprian's visit after he returned from his ship. He was not pleased, but I didn't want to keep anything from him. Things like that could come back to bite me in the ass later and, as far as relationships went, I got bitten by my own mistakes a lot. With Malik, I was going to make a special effort to avoid any ass-biting that wasn't done in the bedroom.

  When Malik turned his glare on the flowers, I told him a version of what Cyprian had said to me; that it would be silly to kill something so beautiful simply because they were given to me by someone I didn't want to receive gifts from. Malik had to concede my reasoning but still wasn't happy.

  “I'll give them to Lily, okay?” I tried for a compromise. It's not as if I could blame him; I'd feel the same way if some sexy woman had given him a gift.

  “Agreed,” Malik said as he pulled me into an embrace. “So, my little seductress, did you at least learn anything useful from the randy Faulin?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did,” I said smugly. “The name of the Leech. His real name is Terial.”

  Malik's brows rose. “Well done, Dvarra.”

  “Thank you.” I preened. “The rest of the team are on their way over. Kyrian and Davorin both have information to share as well. Did you discover anything?”

  “A little.” Malik grimaced.

  The doorbell rang.

  He gave me a heavy look. “I'll get that.”

  “Okay, darling.” I squeezed his butt when he turned away.

  Malik gave me a wicked grin over his shoulder and then went to answer the door. It was Lily. He shot me a smile as he showed her the flowers I had for her. As Lily gushed over the beautiful blooms, and I rolled my eyes, Kyrian, Leo, Jason, and Davorin showed up. We pulled some chairs over from my dining room and gathered in the living room where I'd just had my conversation with Cyprian. I quickly told them the Leech's name and how I hoped that when Varian made another appearance, he could do something with it. Then I waved a hand for Malik to go ahead.

  “I spoke to my father,” Malik said. “He had no direct association with the Danutians, but he has heard of them. He said they came to Earth before us and only stayed a couple of centuries before deciding to use it as an anchor for a new realm.”

  “An anchor?” Davorin asked.

  “My father said that the Danutians have powerful abilities that they share as a race, with individuals having personal magic specific to themselves,” Malik went on. “They reputedly combined their magic to create a new realm.”

  “That's in line with what I've learned from the Triari records,” Kyrian said. “Our histories don't say a lot about the Danutians except that they created a realm of magic attached to Earth.”

  “I still don't get why they had to attach their realm to Earth.” Davorin frowned pensively.

  “As you pointed out; a purely magical realm should be impossible. The records say that the Danutians needed solid planetary matter as a foundation for their realm; something to anchor their magic to,” Kyrian said.

  “Like the way wards are anchored to objects,” I clarified. “The Supemarket is protected by just such an object.”

  “The arch.” Dav nodded. “Okay; got it. Our planet is like the arch to their ward-realm.”

  “Whatever the reason behind it, they are said to have made a realm called Danu—after the planet they had to abandon—and then they retreated into it,” Kyrian reported.

  Malik nodded. “My father said that they were only here for as long as it took for them to complete the process. That's why their rule was so short.”

  “Rule?” I asked.

  “Yeah; they were Gods in Ireland,” Davorin said. “The myths say that they appeared in flying ships surrounded by dark clouds.”

  “Sounds like spacecraft to me,” Leo said grimly.

  We all nodded. Numerous alien races had come to Earth and interacted with humans freely; brazenly landing their spaceships in the middle of ancient civilizations to show off their technology and general superiority. There are accounts of these events all over the world; from paintings to written records. But then human supernaturals began to make an appearance and humans, as a whole, became jealous and suspicious of each other and the aliens. Supernaturals—both human and alien—decided it would be best to fade into the shadows and hide what they were to all but human leaders. The records of alien interaction with humans were soon regarded as fantasy. It didn't matter that there was a plethora of proof; humans will believe whatever helps them sleep at night. I could hardly blame them; a good night's sleep was worth a lot, perhaps even self-imposed ignorance.

  “Monks later changed the myths to say that the Tuatha Dé Danann arrived in normal ships on the sea and that they burned those ships to show that they weren't leaving; thus creating dark clouds,” Davorin went on. “It's ridiculous. No one sails across the ocean and then burns their ships just to make a point. Anyway, the rest of the myth corresponds to what Malik said; they were in Ireland from 1897 B.C. To 1700 B.C.; just under two-hundred years. That's a relatively short span of time for a race to exist on Earth. People don't just pop up and disappear like that.”

  “Unless they choose to disappear like that,” Kyrian shared a look with Malik. Then he said in a reverent tone, “A race that can build a realm.”

  “It's impressive,” Malik agreed. “All we seem to be able to do is destroy them.”

  Kyrian grimaced but made a slight nod in acknowledgment. He couldn't dispute the truth; the Bleiten-Triari War had indeed destroyed planets. Or at least the races who lived on them.

  “The Danutians seem to have stayed in their realm and kept to themselves for thousands of years,” I mused. “Why come out now?”

  “That's the question we need answered,” Malik said.

  “At least we know where that damn flower came from,” Jason huffed.

  “Fairy flowers and humans turning into monsters,” I murmured. “Why? I don't understand what anyone could gain from this.”

  “You need to speak to that fairy knight again,” Lily said. “Maybe you can trade the Leech's name for some answers.”

  “Sidhe knight,” I corrected her absently. I took a deep breath and let it out. “I need some exercise to clear my head.”

  They all looked at me blankly.

  “Let's go dancing.”

  “Seriously?” Davorin asked with a confounded expression. “We have a Fairy—excuse me; a Danutian—problem of potentially epic proportions building, and you want to go dancing?”

  “We can't do anything about it tonight,” Lily pointed out. “And I wouldn't mind blowing off a little steam myself.”

  “Flamethrower's?” Leo asked.

  “That's where we first met,” I murmured to Malik.

  “Flamethrower's it is,” Malik declared.

  “You're all fucking insane,” Davorin muttered.

  But he still came along.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven


  Flamethrower's was on the other side of the Supemarket from the Wilds and my townhouse; far enough to warrant a cab. Or, in our case, three cabs. I was a little surprised that Kyrian decided to join us; what with his halo in place. But that might have been precisely why he felt that he could.

  Brock—a supe with literally sticky hands—was working Flamethrower's door as usual. He greeted us all but was especially friendly to Davorin, who used to work there as a fellow bouncer. Dav and Brock exchanged a man-hug as the rest of us slipped past. I didn't see Belina and her boyfriend, Dylan; it was a weeknight, and they usually waited until the weekend to go out. But they were among the minority. Flamethrower's was packed; supernaturals slamming away happily to the thudding music; their auras permeating the place with a haze of lust and intoxication.