by Shona Husk
“We are at a turning point as a people. If we keep going the way we have been, then it will only be a couple of generations until there are no more males. With no men, half our magic is gone. Lost forever. Already we have only one female fire user. Do we want to breed out and fade away as a historical footnote?” His father had finally said what people had been talking about for years but that no one actually wanted to deal with. “Or find a way to survive.”
Eventually a man with a French accent spoke. “You mean a return to arranged marriages for the men to ensure continuation of the line.”
Quinn nodded. “Yes. Though perhaps something less formal than what we had three hundred years ago. There could be online dating.”
“You have three sons. What do they think?” a woman said.
The sofa Julian was sitting on suddenly became quite hot. He swallowed and could feel the weight of the stares from around the globe on him. He’d always known that one day he’d do the right thing and marry an Albah woman. It was why he’d never gotten too close to the human women. They had been temporary. Right now, he didn’t want anyone else but Leira. “I am in agreement. Although, we could always use modern technology and just have the men donate sperm.”
Several people pulled away from their screens as though he was being disgusting when he was being practical.
“You can’t force people into loveless marriages…men or women. I think we should consider all the options. I don’t think dying out is one of them.” Julian didn’t want his grandchildren to be the last. He didn’t want to be talking about the different types of elemental magic as a thing of the past.
Saba glanced at Dale. They were doing that silent conversation thing that couples do. Dale must be wondering what he’d gotten himself mixed up in.
The woman who had asked what he thought spoke again. “That is still asking a lot. Not all of us have husbands who know what we are.”
Quinn rested his elbows on his knees. “I know that. But I think it’s something we have to think about. If we wait any longer, there will be too few male Albah.”
They had always needed both types of pairings. Human-Albah pairings to stop the bloodlines from becoming too close and Albah-Albah pairings to make sure that there were male children born. Julian would love for someone to do a genetic study on the Albah and find out what was going on, but that would require money and the truth to be public so it was never going to happen.
A young man with long blond dreadlocks was nodding. “I’d be happy to do whatever. I get a little tired hiding what I am, but it’s not easy to meet other Albah when we are so spread out. Didn’t there used to be conventions or something?”
“We stopped gathering because of the risk,” Quinn said. “Take the word back to your families that we’re on the tipping point. If there is interest, then I will set up a meeting for those who want an Albah partner. If the vote comes back that we die out, then is there a need to stay in contact?”
“If we die out, the Guardians win,” the French man said.
There were murmurs of agreement. After recent events, no one wanted to lay down for the Guardians and make their job easy.
If he didn’t fight for Leira, Emily would succeed in death where she’d failed in life, to keep him from being happy and being with Leira. He glanced at Saba. An idea forming.
* * * *
Julian walked into the Silvered Moon, not sure if he should expect a welcome or if Saba never wanted to see him again. It was one thing to be polite in a public meeting but another to be nice to him in private. Now that her sister was out of hospital she didn’t even need his magic.
Saba was moving books around on the shelves and glanced over. “Leira is at uni. She had to see someone about an extension.”
“I wanted to see you.” He hadn’t had the chance to speak to Saba last night. Last night he hadn’t been sure that this was the right thing to do. This morning he’d woken up knowing it was the only thing he could do to put things right. He missed Leira. They had only lived together for a few days but they’d had fun—when they weren’t trying not to be killed.
Saba straightened up. “Oh, how can I help?”
Would she help? Did she really want her sister to be with the man who’d almost gotten her killed? Maybe he was wrong and his idea wasn’t that great. “I think I need a reading.”
“Thought you didn’t want to know what your future held?”
So Leira had discussed him with her sister. What had she said recently? But he couldn’t ask that. He didn’t want to look desperate, even though he was. “I’ve changed my mind. I would like to know. Forewarned and all of that.”
Saba considered him for a moment. “Leira hasn’t called you yet, has she?”
There was no dodging that question. “No.”
“She doesn’t know what to say. She knows that you came to see her. And she liked the flowers.”
“Good.” Then why hadn’t she called? “The whole Emily thing has scared her off, hasn’t it?”
“Maybe, but I know that she has done a reading for herself.”
“And?” What had Leira seen this time?
“And she didn’t tell me.”
“I have an idea.” Saba was going to laugh at him, but he had to try. “I was hoping you’d be able to tell me if it’s the right thing to do.”
“What are you planning?” She lifted one eyebrow and managed to look wary as though he was about to endanger her sister again.
“We were supposed to meet on a train.” He was sure Saba knew that. “Leira thinks we met too soon or something.”
“You want to set up a re-meet, on a train?” When she said it, it sounded terribly lame and not in the least bit romantic. “Yes.” She beamed like it was a brilliant idea. “I don’t need to do a reading to know that is perfect. “I’ll set it up. You just have to be on the train at the right time.”
“You aren’t worried about her being with me?”
She shook her head. “No. It wasn’t your fault and you did everything you could to save her. But I know that you aren’t very good at committing.”
He was never telling Dale anything again. “They were human. I was waiting for…Leira.”
As he said the words he knew that was the truth. It wasn’t just any Albah woman that he’d wanted. He had been waiting for someone specific. For some kind of connection and understanding. Leira was his opposite. They had a magical connection that he could never have with another. They had battled a Guardian together and lived.
Leira had always had faith in her visions; he was going to make their future happen.
Chapter 21
Julian waited on the platform. Last carriage, Saba’s text had said. He was sure this was the right time. He was more nervous than he’d been about anything in a long time and that included going to meet Emily so he and Leira could find out where she lived. He hoped that today ended better than that day had.
The air around him began moving, and then came the squealing of brakes. The first few carriages flew past before the train slowed. He could do this.
What if he stuffed it up and broke their future again?
The train stopped and he glimpsed the two blond-haired women through the window. The door opened and people spilled out. He waited a moment before going in. Saba looked up, and then she stood and brushed by him as though she had just remembered this was her stop. Leira called after her but Saba was off the train. The doors closed behind her, and she waved from the platform and smiled.
Julian stood for a moment. This was it. He had to get this right. As the train started moving, he made his way to a mortified-looking Leira. That wasn’t the expression he’d been hoping for.
He sat next to her. All the words he’d planned to say dried up.
Leira glanced out the window. “I can’t believe she did this.” She turned to him. “I can’t believe you played along.”
“I asked her to set this up. Isn’t this how it
is meant to be? I wanted to do it right this time.” Was he still doing it wrong? Had she wanted to let that vision of the future go and find a new one? He swallowed and tried to ignore the sting. “I came to see you in hospital.”
“I know. Thank you for what you did. I got the flowers too. They were lovely.” She smiled, but her finger fiddled with the strap of her purple handbag. “I’m pretty sure this was supposed to happen accidently, not be a massive setup.”
“But it was supposed to happen?” Had she seen their future reset? “Is that why you didn’t call?”
“You didn’t call either.”
She had him there. They had both been waiting. He was tired of waiting. He didn’t want to waste more time.
“Maybe this is too important to leave to chance and it needed to be set up.” He didn’t know if he believed that, but he liked the sound of it. Fate was fickle and unreliable; sometimes it was better to go out and make it happen.
“Yeah, maybe.” She still didn’t sound convinced. “Maybe I’m done with looking at my future and I just want to live for the moment.” She put her hand over his.
Julian nodded. “That sounds good. Right now, I want to kiss you.”
She smiled and tilted her head. “Do you always kiss random people you’ve just met on a train?” She was willing to play the game and see how this went.
The anxiousness he’d been feeling unraveled. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him. She’d been worried about it being wrong again. “No, but it feels like I already know you and I want to test that theory.”
* * * *
Her sister and Julian had worked together to make her vision real. The future that she’d wanted so bad had come back. She’d checked in the hospital and had seen him on the train. She’d been so scared of breaking it again that she had refused to even text him.
Now here he was, making it happen. It was perfect. And stupid. And she was falling for it. She’d done nothing but think about him and wonder how to make it happen. Or if he’d even want to be with her now that the danger was over. But here he was making her vision true.
This was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for her. He wanted this to work. He wanted her.
Leira leaned in close and brushed her lips over his. “You do seem familiar.”
“Like it’s meant to be?” He put his arm around her and she leaned into him.
Yeah, like it was meant to be. But she didn’t say that. She didn’t want to put more pressure on something that already been so dramatically tested in case it crumbled. Not everything could be strengthened by fire. “How about we do one day at a time?”
“One day at a time sounds perfect.”
Be sure not to miss Shona’s next Blood and Silver book
MAID OF ICE
Finlay Ryder is getting death threats, has a female stalker, and the impossible task of finding who made the Vampire that has started the new round of hostilities. Easy. Except he is supposed to be in front of the camera playing a racecar driver in a very popular daytime soap.
Breaking her wrist during practice is a blessing in disguise for ice skater Alina Nyx. Sneaking out of the hospital before her domineering mother can take control of her life again is even better. Coming between Finlay and his stalker and getting swept up in Albah drama wasn’t on her to do list. However, when she starts getting the same death threats, she knows that someone has realised she isn’t human and if she doesn’t help Finlay all Albah are going to suffer.
A Lyrical Originals novel out Winter 2017
Learn more about Shona Husk at
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/31825
Chapter 1
There was something wrong with the car. He didn’t know enough about cars to be able to determine what and keep the car on the track while it hurtled around the corner at over one hundred miles an hour. He eased off the accelerator and tried to remember all the lessons he’d had before being allowed to drive the car himself.
Nothing came to mind that would save his life. The steering was getting heavier. He wasn’t going to make the next corner and it was coming up way too fast.
“Car’s not responding.” Finley Ryder said into the microphone in his helmet. It wasn’t there for his team to call out tips. It was there for the film crew to give him instructions and for him to spout any lines they needed said.
“What do you mean?”
What he meant was he was jelly in under ten seconds. “No steering.” He tapped the brake. Yeah that wasn’t good. “No brake.” He swore. “Make sure you get the accident you might need it for a later episode.”
When they would have to kill off his character.
He didn’t like his chances of walking out of this. Panicked voices were filling his headset. They were never going to let him do his own stunts again after this, no matter how qualified he was.
His heart beat fast, pumping fear into his body. This was not how he’d planned on dying—he hadn’t made those plans yet. He didn’t give a shit how expensive the gearbox was he tore his way down through the gears trying to slow the race car. There were sirens, emergency vehicles were already on the track. He didn’t take his eyes off the concrete wall to find out where they were. He knew what they were doing.
They were coming for him.
The car slowed but not enough.
He drew in a breath. This counted as dire situation, and he didn’t care who saw or what questions they asked. He drew the air around him into a shield. He’d tested his magical abilities before, but not like this. He wasn’t sure any Albah had.
He was making history.
With an exhale, he pushed every bit of will he had into cushioning himself, and the car from the impact. If he’d been able to access some skin under all the safety gear he’d have added blood into the mix.
His eyes closed as everything collapsed around him.
“Finley?” Someone was shining a light into his eyes. Fuck it was annoying.
He tried to move and his body didn’t respond. Panic flooded him it took several seconds and someone holding his hand before he settled.
“We have to cut you out of the car. How are you feeling? Do you know what day it is?”
“Wednesday.” He wasn’t sure the word came out right. It was Wednesday, wasn’t it? Yeah it was. It was Wednesday and he was alive. The medic was still holding his hand. “If you don’t let go you’re going to have to give me your number so I can call you in the morning.”
People laughed.
“Finley’s fine,” someone said.
Was he? He’d been going damn fast when he’d hit the wall. The wall didn’t look so good. He didn’t feel so good. He was starting to hurt and the harness was cutting into him in all the wrong places.
“You can have my number.” The medic smiled. “Let’s get you out of here first.”
Finley grimaced. Even though his left nut was getting squashed he was not asking for help.
Then the cutting started. If he hadn’t had a headache before, he did after the first five seconds of that racket.
Eventually he was eased out of the car and straight onto a stretcher. “I’m fine.” They hadn’t even takes his helmet off in case he had a neck injury, but at least he had someone to talk to. “What the hell was wrong with the car?”
“We don’t know. What did you do to it?”
“Nothing. She was fine until I got up to speed.” They liked him to do a few slow laps first, get a few shots and the lines done. Then they’d throw on a few other cars to get the race feel. As soap operas went Out of Control was fun to work on, mostly because it was about race cars and the rivalry between teams. This season he was supposed to be stealing the girlfriend of another driver, who was actually the ex-PR for his team, and his ex from two seasons ago and the reason his on-screen wife left him. It was all very dramatic.
And as he was pushed into the ambulance it all seemed rather petty.
The adrenali
ne was leaving in a rush that made him feel ill.
His new buddy the medic checked his pulse. “How are you doing?”
“Been better. You?”
“Not every day I get to rescue Finley Ryder.”
Finely laughed. “Let’s not make it a habit. You can have the suit when they cut me out of it.” Was he jelly inside? Is that why the hadn’t unzipped him?
Why wasn’t he in more pain?
“How bad is it?”
“Well you’re awake and talking.”
“My legs?”
“They don’t appear to be broken.”
So why was he feeling numb? “My back?”
“We’re taking you in for scans.”
He squeezed the medics hand hard enough that the man’s eyes widened. “Is my back fucking broken?”
Something jabbed him in the ankle. “Ow.”
“You felt that. It’s a good sign.” The ambulance lurched off, sirens going. “Relax and let me do my job. Next time let the stunt guys drive?”
“I am a qualified stunt driver.” And if a human had been in that car, they’d have died. He’d only survived because he’d been able to soften the impact with magic. He might have walked away from the Albah community and his family, but he hadn’t sworn off magic.
The medic was right. He did need to relax. He knew a little about healing—not as much as his half-brother, but enough that he might be able to give himself a head start before the doctors got hold of him.
Finley closed his eyes and sunk his thoughts into his body. There were cuts and bruising on his legs from being trapped in the car. There was bruising in most places. Nothing felt wrong or broken—he knew what broken bones felt like but he also knew how to get them healing fast. There was no chance of him getting hold of any silver in hospital to help his body out. He’d have to wait until he got home.
How long that would be was anyone’s guess.
The tabloids would have exaggerated tales of his injury—or even death—before he got home. Wonder if they’d write nice things about him?