“All right.” She threw her bagged spinach into the cart and looked around. They probably wouldn’t have ended up doing it, anyway. He’d find some way out of it, or his terms would turn out to be too much for her to handle, and she’d find a way out. “That guy.” She nodded in the direction of the hottie with the buzz cut who happened to be standing by the string beans. “I’m not even sure I felt anything. I’m not having any premonitions, Xia. Nothing bad’s going to happen. I’d know if it were. I was just looking at him, that’s all, and I got a chill.”
Xia looked in the direction she’d nodded. His eyes flickered, and she got another ripple along her arms. “Not good,” he whispered.
“Well, yeah. He’s a major hottie. I was thinking of giving him my phone number. But that was before, I swear.”
His attention went back to her. “Are you an idiot?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
He took her by the upper arm and came in close to speak in a low voice. “He’s mageheld, Alexandrine.”
“How can you tell?” She turned her head. The hottie was watching them, no doubt about it. But then, lots of people were watching them on account of Xia being even hotter than this guy. In her humble opinion.
“Number one,” Xia said, “short hair. We all get shaved when we’re taken.” His fingers tightened on her arm, and his eyes did that flickering thing as he walked her to the Pink Lady apples. “His name’s Durian. Until recently, he was Nikodemus’s right hand. And, baby, you don’t want to be on his bad side, because back in the day, any fiend who crossed the line against humans got whacked by him.” His voice rasped. “I’m on his bad side, seeing as I’m the one who helped Rasmus take him down.”
Alexandrine’s heart turned cold at the abrupt reminder of what Xia had been to her father. Meanwhile, Durian walked away from the beans and examined a butternut squash. His attention flicked up, and their gazes met. He smiled at her, and now he didn’t seem as friendly. Goose bumps rose on her arms.
“All right, then,” she said. She kept her tone deliberately calm despite feeling anything but. “What now?”
“He won’t try anything here; too many humans around.” He seemed to realize how close he was holding her and released her. “Bag up your vegetables of doom and let’s see if we can get out of here without him interfering.”
“Right.” The truth was, they’d been attacked three times last night, and if Xia hadn’t been there, the magehelds would have gotten in the first time, and they would have destroyed her place. And probably have done worse to her. Much worse.
They walked to the checkout line. Durian headed for the front of the store, too, but he didn’t get in line. He dropped his empty basket and disappeared. Alexandrine got in another line, paid a numbing $281.92 for her groceries, and headed for the parking lot with Xia on her ass again. They got her overflowing canvas shopping bags into the side panniers on his bike. The rest was stuffed in her backpack. Alexandrine didn’t see Durian anywhere, but her arms and nape were cold. Xia was getting on the bike when Durian, swear to God, appeared from nowhere, just the way he’d disappeared inside.
“Xia,” the mageheld said.
“Come on, Alexandrine,” Xia said. He handed over her helmet. She got on, arms tight around his middle while Xia backed the bike out of his spot. Durian followed, smiling a wolf’s smile he directed at Xia. Alexandrine’s heart was banging a hundred miles an hour.
“Rasmus sends you his best wishes,” Durian said.
People went in and out of the grocery store the whole time, blissfully unaware. They pushed carts, carried bags, herded their children.
“Carson’s going to come after you.” Xia touched some gizmo on the motorcycle, and the engine roared to a start.
Through the faceplate of her borrowed helmet, Alexandrine saw Durian’s eyes flash an improbable deep purple. “Not anytime soon,” he said over the sound of Xia revving his bike. He pressed a hand to his chest and grimaced. Ice shot down Alexandrine’s back. She tightened her hold on Xia. The air in front of Durian coalesced. Sparks shimmered around the forming edges in tiny purple flashes. The nape of her neck got colder. Xia’s body tensed, and the cold in her head spilled down her spine.
“Just try, assassin,” Xia said. The air rushed toward them, faster, spinning, gathering force. Xia did something, and the whirling mass of air dissipated. “You know better than to try that shit with me,” Xia said.
Durian acknowledged that with a shrug. “Maybe it’s time we stopped hiding from humans.” He looked at Alexandrine, who was damn glad the helmet hid her face. “Your little witch will take you sooner or later, fiend.” Her hearing was muffled with the helmet on, but she saw the venom in his face. “Or have you forgotten she’s Kessler’s brat? It’s in her blood.”
“All you have to do, mageheld, is hold on. Nikodemus and Carson are coming after you.” Xia put his helmet on and directed his bike out of the parking lot. When he made the turn onto the street, he gunned it, and Alexandrine held on for dear life.
They parked half a block from her building. While she got off the bike swearing she’d never ride one of those again, Xia hauled out her bags. He set them down, leaving her to pick them up on her own. He had his knife in his hand, so she didn’t complain. That whole scene with Durian had shaken her. She wanted Xia free to take care of whatever needed handling. When she was ready, she headed for the entrance with her keys dangling between her clenched teeth. And then she stopped.
Her heart beat double time. Not fast, but doubled, like she had two hearts in her chest. It was hard to get a breath. She put down one of the bags and let her keys fall onto her palm.
“What?” Xia asked.
She had an odd feeling in her upper chest, a tickle to go along with whatever the hell was going on with her heart. She concentrated on the sensations and lost them both. The amulet felt hot where it rested against her belly. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “Something’s wrong.”
Xia grabbed her arm. “Like last night?”
“No.” She shook her head. Just like that, everything went back to normal. She was disoriented now. Her heartbeat was back to normal, and the frost along her arms was gone, but she wasn’t so sure she was back to normal. “It’s not that. I just… It was nothing. It’s gone now, anyway.”
“You sure?” Xia frowned.
“Yes, I’m sure.” She walked to her building’s front door. The throbbing in her chest returned, and she must have slowed down or paused or something, because Xia stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. She longed to be safe at home where she’d never go out ever again.
“If you think something’s off, don’t ignore it.”
“You’re making me paranoid.”
“Good.”
“I have no idea what to think anymore.” She shifted her bags again. “I’m getting a cramp. Can we just get inside so I can put this stuff down? It’s heavy.”
“Give me your keys.” She dropped her keys onto his outstretched hand. “Thanks,” he said. He turned the key in the lock, and even though she knew everything was fine, thank you, she felt inordinately glad that Xia was big and mean. “You feel anything?”
“No.”
They took the stairs up to her floor, where he unlocked her door, and she set down the heavier bags. “Stay here until I tell you it’s okay.”
“And if it’s not?”
He glanced over his shoulder while he opened the door. He wasn’t smiling. “Leave the bags and run.”
“Okay.” But everything was okay, right? She felt normal. No magic, no premonitions. She was, as Xia would say, vanilla. And that, she realized, was not normal. Not for her. There wasn’t ever a time when she felt completely and utterly normal. Shit. She stopped him with a hand to his arm. “Xia, wait. Something’s wrong.”
He glanced at her and while he did, she looked past him into her living room. Through some trick of the light, the interior looked oddly gray and empty.
“Stay put,” he said.
He turned his head and looked right at her. His gaze burned neon blue and connected with hers with the disorienting dizziness of last night. “Run,” he said.
Chapter 12
Alexandrine dropped the rest of her bags at the same time she saw a twisted quasi-human form leap at Xia’s back. Light as air, Xia turned. He moved with a dancer’s grace as his arm slashed upward. The man—animal? Thing?—who’d thrown himself at Xia screamed and hit the floor in a boneless heap. With sickening horror, Alexandrine realized Xia had killed his attacker and was turning to a second intruder with the same fluid grace. She didn’t need to see more. Heart pounding in her chest, she bolted.
She didn’t get far. At the top of the stairwell, she collided with a hard body. The impact sent her reeling backward, but a large man caught her by the shoulders and kept her upright.
“Whoa there,” he said.
She looked into Durian’s face, and her stomach turned. There hadn’t been any warning. None at all.
“Are you all right?” His fingers tightened on her shoulders. A lovely, slow smile curved his mouth. “Is there a fire somewhere?”
“Let go of me.” She whipped away, scrambling to get her backpack around to the front so she could grab her phone. He didn’t release her. “I said let go.”
“Rasmus doesn’t want you hurt,” he said. He smiled again, but there was something off about it. Something unreal. Unsettling. “If something’s wrong, maybe I can help. I can protect you from Xia.”
She didn’t like him touching her. Her skin flashed cold, and the talisman, swear to God, she felt it moving. Her belly crawled with the sensation. Alexandrine used her backpack as a weapon. He didn’t even grunt when her heavy, can-filled pack hit him. He got a hand on one of the shoulder straps and yanked her pack from her hands. So fast she didn’t see him move, his hand curled around her throat, his fingers digging into the back of her neck, his thumb pressing on her windpipe.
“It won’t take much for me to kill you,” he said. This time, he didn’t try to hide his eyes or the malevolence in them. “Don’t think I can’t, witch. I know a hundred ways to kill you with a twist of my hands. Rasmus doesn’t want you hurt, but he understands reality sometimes intervenes with his wishes. I have dispensation for circumstances such as that, little witch.”
Alexandrine went still.
“Much better.” He walked her backward, toward her open apartment door, scooping up her backpack on the way. “Inside, Ms. Marit, if you please.” Durian pushed her inside and shut the door after them. Her backpack landed on the floor with a thud. He released her throat and spun her around with his forearm jammed underneath her chin. His other hand held her wrists behind her back. He pulled back hard enough to threaten her air supply.
“Thank you, Durian,” said an accented voice. Two bodies lay on the floor, and they were dead; there was no question of that. She smelled blood and something acrid underneath. But the room was so crazy wrong with light and color she couldn’t tell if one of the bodies was Xia.
Durian turned her toward the kitchen. Where her television used to be, Xia had a tall platinum-blond man pinned to the wall. His arm seemed to have stopped its downward thrust just in time. Despite the knife at this throat, Rasmus Kessler was unruffled. “If Xia does not release me,” her father said, “terminate her, Durian.”
Durian’s arm tightened around her throat. “With pleasure.”
Rasmus lifted his hands. Everything about him shouted rich as all get-out, from his suit and tie to the heavy gold ring on his thumb. The faceted red stone flashed in the light. Impossible as it was chronologically, the mage looked about thirty, maybe thirty-five, with hair the exact same color as hers. His eyes were blue, though. Not brown like hers. “Alexandrine Marit, you see I am defenseless.”
“Fuck you, Rasmus,” Xia said. His body trembled. He looked at Alexandrine. “Don’t believe a word he says.”
Rasmus Kessler smiled, and the effect wasn’t at all pleasant. “Durian. Proceed.”
Xia lowered his knife and took a step back from the wall. He didn’t look very happy about it, either. Rasmus straightened his coat and moved forward. Particles of gray dislodged from the wall and trickled to the floor. Everything around them was gray. A strong scent of ashes hung in the air. Her living room was more or less empty. The walls and floor were covered with a fine gray dust that clouded around Xia’s feet when he took another step back. He was breathing hard and looking totally pissed off.
Rasmus shook his long hair behind his shoulders. “That’s better.” He stared at Xia, twisting the ring on his thumb. She’d bet money the thing was magical. “Just like old times, isn’t it?”
Xia gave him the finger.
“Still a savage, I see.”
Rasmus Kessler wasn’t just youthful. He was young. Too young to be her father. Except he was. He was a handsome man, startlingly so, but not normal. Not a normal man at all. His accent wasn’t strong, and his English was otherwise impeccable. “Durian,” her father said without taking his eyes off Xia, “bring Ms. Marit to me.”
Durian’s arm eased up on her throat as he propelled her across the room. Whatever was all over the floor crunched like sand under their feet, and yet a fine dust rose. The smell of ashes choked her. When she was standing before him, with Durian gripping her upper arm, Rasmus nodded at Durian. “Please subdue Xia, Durian. Do not kill him.”
“No!” Alexandrine shouted when Durian let go of her. Farther in the room, Xia let out a growl. He crouched, his knife held loosely in one hand. From where she stood, his eyes looked white. Her chest froze solid. She was deathly afraid Xia would be so focused on her safety that he’d get hurt or killed or even taken.
Rasmus watched Xia with unsettling avarice. Her father was a mage, the man who hadn’t wanted her when she was a baby and who didn’t want her now. The man who had once enslaved Xia and who had sent magehelds to kill her. She didn’t know what was safe to say around Rasmus, what he knew and didn’t know about her, Xia, or the amulet. She wasn’t going to give him any information unless she saw a benefit. His thumb ring, set with a large ruby that, if real, must have cost enough to buy a place in San Francisco, pulsed with magic. She’d bet her own money he’d used it to disguise his presence. Not that tricking her would be difficult for someone like him.
“Ms. Marit,” Rasmus said in his calm voice. “You don’t know what Xia is. I do, and I assure you, you have had a narrow escape. You are fortunate to be alive.”
“Yeah, right,” she said. “That must be why you broke into my place and did this to it.”
He brushed gray dust off his coat. “You mustn’t think that, Ms. Marit.” The gemstone in his ring, the size of her middle fingernail, was set in a beveled mount. She didn’t doubt it was real. For mages, the ruby had special power, and he was using it right now. She could feel it. “Quite the contrary. I am trying to keep you alive.”
With a look in Durian’s direction, she said, “And you told numb-nuts over here to kill me because… ?”
“A verbal feint. I was confident Xia would not allow Durian to kill you when he wants to do that himself. In a most painful manner, I assure you. Such is his speciality, I fear.” He looked her up and down. “Xia has killed more women and children than you can count on your two hands. And, alas, I know how each murder was carried out. His reputation, deserved, I promise you, is… unsavory.” His eyes narrowed. “He hasn’t hurt you, has he?”
She studied his face, trying to find a resemblance to her. They were of a similar height, both of them six feet. They had the same hair, and ma
ybe there was a similarity in the shape of their faces. But her eyes were brown, and his were blue. He was also too young to have a daughter her age. No one would ever believe he was her father. She felt sick, remembering what Xia had told her about how Rasmus achieved his apparent youth.
“I’m afraid Xia, like most of his ilk, has no great affection for our kind.” He gestured like he was Jesus in one of those cheesy icons pasted onto vases and tins in the housewares section of the grocery store.
“What do you want?” she asked. She knew the truth before he replied, which meant that when he finally answered, she knew he was lying. She’d be an idiot to think for a second that he cared about being her father.
“You are wearing a necklace, no? A carved panther.” He cocked his head. “Surely, even you with your so very limited powers must have guessed by now what it is.” His attention shifted to Xia again, and the greed in his eyes chilled her heart. Oh, she knew what Rasmus Kessler wanted most of all, and it wasn’t her amulet. He wanted Xia back in his control. Rasmus twisted the ring on his thumb. “An object of such power as that cannot fall into the wrong hands.” With a glance toward the center of the room, he said, “Durian, do take care of our little problem. I should like to have him in hand within the minute. Have I made myself clear?”
Maybe Rasmus did want her amulet, she thought, but he wanted Xia more. He hardly gave a damn about the talisman compared to how badly he wanted Xia back under his command. Alexandrine glanced at Durian and Xia, who were circling each other warily.
“Fine,” she said. “Take the damn thing.”
Durian lunged at Xia, but Xia sidestepped him and brought the hilt of his knife down on Durian’s back. Durian hit the ground hard enough to shake the floor but was on his feet in a flash. “Nikodemus wants you,” Xia told Durian. He drew back his clenched hands and struck Durian again. The air around Xia wavered. Durian doubled over. “He’s going to send Carson after you, and that’s a promise.”
She pulled the leather thong over her head. Her insides felt like they were being ripped out as she dangled the talisman in front of her. Rasmus reached for it, but just before his fingers touched the thong, Alexandrine took a deep breath and threw it across the room. It landed with a dull thud and skidded several inches, sending a cloud of dust into the air.
My Forbidden Desire Page 12