Knights of Obsidian

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Knights of Obsidian Page 2

by Shannon Lynn Cook


  Now the three of us sit here in silence, with nothing but the orange glow of the parking lot lights shining in the dark car for ambiance.

  Instead of dwelling on the death and destruction of the night, my addled brain decides to focus on the fact that I’ve kissed not one, but two of the men in the car. So basically, I’ve kissed one-hundred percent of the guys in the car.

  Now one wants to kill me, and the other…well, I don’t know where we stand.

  I glance at Jonathan again, but he’s staring out the front window, one hand resting on the dagger in his lap. It’s a warning for Gray, a promise that he’ll use the blade if he must. Which I believe means Jonathan truly cares about me—even though we can’t be together because I had to link my magic with Rafe’s so that I could send the shadow creatures back to the dark depths from which they came. Wherever that might be.

  Feeling my gaze, Jonathan glances over. He’s meticulous about his thick, dark hair, likely using more products than I even own, but it’s a wreck tonight. He wears it short, but not too short. It’s long enough you can delve your fingers through it—long enough to be messy, like it is now.

  A few days ago, I would have teased him that messy looks good on him, and he would have told me I was welcome to make it messier. And then we would have laughed because we were just friends, and friends don’t actually make out. They certainly don’t test boundaries when they’re working undercover, posing as husband and wife.

  And because they don’t do either of those things, they don’t sit in a cold car in the parking lot of a motel, barely speaking. Since he and I are doing just that, I think it’s obvious we took a wrong turn somewhere.

  “Are you warm enough?” he asks, making me jump. He says the words quietly, but he might as well yell them.

  I nod and look back at the driver’s seat ahead of me. Jonathan, too, turns to the front, and the car is silent once more.

  Rafe and Eric emerge from the office a few minutes later. They look like a strange pair—Rafe in his bedraggled waitstaff attire consisting of black slacks and a white button-up shirt and Eric in dark-wash jeans and a charcoal waffle-knit thermal. They both are covered in the shadow creatures’ blood, making it appear as though we had car trouble and they’ve been under a hood all evening.

  Rafe carries a white envelope containing our room card. He looks as sick over the night as I feel, and when he takes the driver’s seat, he lets out a weary sigh that I feel all the way to my bones.

  Eric opens the passenger door and scoops Charles into his arms. As soon as the knight sits, he cranks up the heat. “It’s freezing in here.”

  Rafe backs out of the space, leaving the hippie van behind, and drives slowly through the parking area, stopping in front of our room. The motel is just a single level building, shaped like an “L,” and all the rooms are positioned one right after another.

  The crooked brass “22” on the door is not a welcoming sight, but I swing my door open, more than ready to be out of the cramped car.

  “I don’t suppose you got me a room of my own?” I ask Rafe as I press my palms to my lower back and stretch.

  The knight jiggles the car keys in his hand, his dark blue eyes frowning though his expression is perfectly neutral. That impassive stare is a talent of his, but his eyes always give him away.

  “I think it’s best if we’re all together right now,” he says.

  I nod, figuring as much, and walk toward the door only to be yanked to a stop. Startled, I turn back to the car and realize I shut my skirt in the door. I glance up, hoping no one noticed—not that they’d tease me now anyway. But Eric and Jonathan are obliviously pulling Gray from the other side of the car. Jonathan had the forethought to cuff the Wolf while he was unconscious, but Gray’s still not making it easy.

  The knight growls as they tug him toward the room, fighting them every step of the way. Once the men are clear of the car, I go around the front and collect Charles from Eric’s seat.

  I don’t have a litter box for him. I don’t have a water bowl or kitty toys. I also don’t have a dress that isn’t a voluminous black satin ball gown that makes me look like I stepped off the Hollywood set of a gothic vampire movie.

  Rafe ushers us inside the room, holding the door open. Once we’re in, he sets the lock and draws the curtains. I look around, too numb to give the faded carpet or yellowing linoleum flooring in the bathroom more than a fleeting wrinkle of my nose in passing. The blue and gold comforters on the matching queen-sized beds appear to be circa 1980, and the mirror is framed in scrolling plastic that was manufactured to look like brass.

  It’s as good a place as any, I suppose.

  I set Charles on the bed closest to the wall. He hunches down, flicking his tail back and forth as he cautiously sniffs the air, not sure he approves of our new digs.

  As the cat slowly pads around the bed, I pull the remaining pins from my disheveled hair—most were lost long ago anyway—and toss them on the dresser. “I need to run to the store, pick up some cat stuff for Charles,” I say, speaking to no one in particular. Then I glance at my wrinkled dress. “Maybe buy something else to wear.”

  I look at the men when no one says anything. Rafe stands by the door, appearing torn. “Jonathan,” he says, his voice tight.

  The Griffon looks over, more than a little wary.

  “Take my car.” Rafe tosses Jonathan the keys, and out of reflex, Jonathan catches them.

  At this point, only Jonathan, Rafe, and I know what transpired in the manor before Rafe and I stopped the destruction, but Gray and Eric are figuring out something happened, especially after Rafe’s reaction to Jonathan in the car.

  The two knight marshals look between Rafe and Jonathan, trying to figure out what exactly is going on. Usually, Jonathan is our mediator, our peacemaker. He was the one who called Rafe when things fell apart in Tahoe, and he’s been soothing ruffled feathers ever since. But now there’s some serious tension between him and Rafe.

  Slowly, Gray turns his glare on me. Because, of course, this too must be my fault. Let’s just add it to the list.

  There’s nothing quite like being on the wrong end of a noble Wolf’s glare. My jaw trembles, but I look away, pretending it doesn’t bother me that he thinks I’m the vilest creature in this world or any other.

  “Watch him,” Rafe says to Eric, nodding toward Gray. “I’ll be right back.”

  My knight then opens the door and jerks his head, silently telling Jonathan and me to step onto the concrete porch. It doesn’t slip my notice that with Gray in handcuffs, Rafe easily slides back into his previous role as team leader. I pass him, meeting his eyes, wishing he’d take me aside and tell me what he’s thinking. But that’s not Rafe’s style.

  Interestingly enough, our magic no longer pulls us together; it’s no longer desperate to connect. Now it’s lazy, warm—simply content to be close. That, if nothing else, is a relief.

  Jonathan immediately walks to the driver’s door and gets in.

  “Don’t be gone too long,” Rafe says, dropping his voice. “Make sure Jonathan keeps his phone on.”

  “Rafe—”

  “Later. All of it later. For now, we need to focus on convincing Gray you’re not trying to take over the world.”

  I roll my eyes. He makes it sound like I’m the villainous lab rat in an old nineties cartoon.

  The Fox then pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and begins thumbing through bills. “Here,” he says, shoving a wad at me. “You don’t have your purse.”

  Oh, right. It, my phone, and all my things were lost in the fire.

  “Thanks,” I murmur. “I’ll pay you back.”

  “We’re going to need Gray on our side,” Rafe continues, ignoring me, “especially if you’re serious about opening the thresholds. So it’s probably best that you’re leaving for a while—giving him some space.”

  Rafe’s words sting, but I nod. I did drop a rather large bombshell on the team when I said I was going to open the thresholds to
Aparia, a world parallel to earth but rich with magic. That’s where our people are from. A thousand years ago, my distant grandmother, her knight, and a group of power-hungry Aparians called the Entitled decided we were superior and should rule over humans. Fighting commenced, things got ugly, and Jonathan’s great, great—lots of greats—grandfather destroyed the thresholds, locking most of the evil in Aparia. Unfortunately, quite a bit of it had already slipped through. And now I intend to send it back where it belongs.

  But don’t misunderstand—I don’t intend to keep the thresholds open. We’re going to crack them long enough I can summon the shadow creatures, send them through, and then close them again. Problem solved.

  I just need to figure out how to go about it.

  “And you and Jonathan need to talk while you’re out,” Rafe continues, oblivious to the way my mind has wandered. “We can’t have the two of you tiptoeing around each other for the foreseeable future.”

  “What do you want me to tell him?” I say, dropping my voice to a whisper.

  “Why don’t you tell him the truth?”

  Fat chance of that.

  I glance at Jonathan. He’s in the driver’s seat, looking at his phone, waiting for me. Shaking my head, I move closer to Rafe. “Something went wrong when we linked.”

  “What do you mean?”

  My throat begins to close, and I blink quickly. Just before we joined our magic, Rafe told me how he felt about me. The last thing I want to do is hurt him, but he needs to know. “I still like him.”

  A grim smile crosses my knight’s face. “I know—I can feel it.”

  I stare at him. “You can…feel it?”

  “And I’m nearly certain you can feel me too.”

  I stare at him, slightly panicked.

  “I’m hoping distance will help. Get away from here for a bit—let’s see what happens.”

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  “Be careful,” he says just before he slips back inside the room.

  Bunching my skirt in my hand, I open the passenger door and get into the car. Jonathan’s already turned on the heat, and hot air blows from both the dash vents and the floor. I’m still in his tuxedo jacket. It’s warm enough in here; I could give it back. I’m not going to, but I could.

  Without a word, Jonathan pulls out of the parking lot and drives through town, over the new bridge that passes the hot springs pool, and hits the interstate, heading toward the west end where there’s a strip mall and several restaurants.

  The farther we drive from the motel, the easier it is to breathe, and I realize Rafe might be right. This isn’t completely my melancholy hanging over me, though I’m certainly heartsick over the evening’s events—it’s my knight’s. And it’s all because we linked. Rafe swore he’d never let it happen, and now he’s hating life.

  “How are you doing over there?” Jonathan asks when it seems he can take the silence no longer.

  “Well…” I let out a slow breath. “My shadow creatures killed an entire mansion full of people. Gray wants to kill me. Rafe is beating himself up because we linked, and Jenna is still out there somewhere.”

  Jonathan glances over, not quite smiling. “Don’t forget about Trent.”

  I growl, wishing he hadn’t reminded me. “And then there’s Trent.”

  I have no idea if the pixie got away before the fire consumed the mansion. I left him unconscious in a closet, maybe with a broken nose. There’s no way to know.

  Jonathan stares straight ahead, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “And what about us?”

  The moment of truth.

  It would be easy to admit I still want him just as much as before, to fall into his arms and take every ounce of comfort he’s willing to offer.

  But earlier this evening, I told him I’m not safe—that being with me isn’t safe. And that was after a little imp attack. Now I have no doubt that getting close to me, as close as I want to get to Jonathan, is dangerous indeed.

  I care enough that I don’t want to put him in that position, don’t want to feel the lung-squeezing terror of nearly losing him again. Last night alone was too much, but what happened tonight was a whole new level of horrifying.

  My chest constricts as I make up my mind. Right now, in the dark, while Jonathan’s eyes are on the road, I have the perfect opportunity to tell him what I want him to believe.

  To lie.

  “I’m sorry, Jonathan,” I whisper, my heart beating too quickly.

  The knight stiffens but eventually nods as if he expected as much. “Nothing at all?” he asks.

  Several moments pass before I work up the courage to answer, “No. Nothing.”

  3

  We reach our turn, and Jonathan concentrates on driving through the roundabouts. After several minutes, he looks back, giving me an easy smile. “We tried, right?”

  “Jonathan—”

  “It’s okay, Madeline. We talked about this.”

  “Will you hate me if I say I want us to be friends?” My voice begins to wobble, but there’s nothing I can do about it. “Because I really do.”

  He pulls into the shopping complex and turns off the car. When he unbuckles, he turns to me and grasps my shoulder, leaning in. “We never stopped being friends. We’re fine.”

  If it weren’t for his jacket separating us, I would think he touched me to read my mind—to see if I’m actually telling the truth. But he can’t read me when there’s a barrier of fabric in the way.

  “So we’re okay?” I ask, searching his shadowed face.

  “Yeah.”

  But his tone sounds…off.

  “What is it?” I ask too eagerly, perhaps hoping, just a little bit, that he’ll call my bluff. You know—pull me into his arms and kiss me senseless.

  That would be all right too.

  Stalling, Jonathan shifts back and fusses with his phone. After a long, tense minute, he says, “Do you have feelings for Rafe now? Did the link—”

  “No,” I answer immediately, glad I don’t have to lie about that at least. “I don’t feel that way about him.”

  “Even with the link?”

  “Actually, even less than before. It’s like our magic has quieted now that it’s gotten what it wanted.”

  “Okay.”

  Okay…? What kind of response is that? After a moment, I parrot, “Okay?”

  His eyes meet mine, and he offers a solemn smile. “Let’s go buy some kitty litter.”

  We return to the motel an hour and a half later, both of us carrying several bags. I feel Rafe’s dark mood, but since I’m able to recognize it now, it doesn’t feel as smothering.

  When I walk in the door, I see Gray is still in the chair in the corner. The Wolf eyes me, looking slightly less hostile. But that might be wishful thinking on my part.

  Eric sits on the end of the bed, watching the television. A banner titled “Breaking News” stretches across the bottom of the screen in red.

  “We still haven’t received word from officials about the cause of the Redstone fire,” a female newscaster says as a live video of the mansion comes on the screen. “But we do have confirmation that several bodies have been located. Currently, the cause of death is unknown. We have a reporter on the scene…”

  Eric glances at me. After seeing the stricken look on my face, he casually changes the channel, ending up on something sports-related.

  I turn to Rafe. “Can I talk to you?”

  He nods and follows me outside.

  “Have you made any progress?” I ask as soon as the door shuts behind us.

  “Gray is not keen on talking to me either,” Rafe says. “Which isn’t anything new, but in this case, it might have something to do with the fact that he’s figured out I’m your knight.”

  “Does he know we linked?”

  Rafe crosses his arms and nods. “I told them, and I tried to explain why. They’re both still processing the news.”

  I run my hands through my hair, wanting to cry or growl or somet
hing. “Gray saw me send the creatures away. It’s not like I was standing there, laughing maniacally as they reaped destruction.”

  Rafe steps a smidgen closer, his face softened with something oddly compassionate. “You have to understand, Lexie, at the academy, the Obsidian Queen was painted with a less than flattering picture. She was a figure in black, pure evil. Doom and death and destruction.”

  “So many ‘D’ words,” I murmur.

  “It’s a lot for him to take in. You’re nothing like any of us expected—even me.”

  “You thought I’d have black hair, right?” I joke because if I don’t, I’ll lose it.

  My knight smirks. “Something like that.”

  “How can I make him see that I’m not evil?”

  Rafe takes a step back and shakes his head, looking just as frustrated as I feel. “You shouldn’t have to convince him. The idiot has known you for months now. He’s just too stubborn to admit you aren’t what he’s built up in his mind.”

  Slowly, I nod. And then I get mad. Rafe’s right—Gray should know. How dare he act wounded and betrayed? The man pulled a dagger on me! If anyone has a reason to be hurt, it’s me.

  With that thought bouncing around in my very addled brain, I turn on my heel and fling the door open.

  “Lexie—” Rafe begins, but I ignore him.

  Jonathan looks up when I storm into the room, and Eric even turns from the TV. Gray stares at me, just as he was before, his stormy eyes intense. I stop in front of him, standing at my full height. “Now you listen here—”

  “I heard,” he says, his voice as neutral as can be.

  That makes me pause. I tilt my head slightly to the side, narrowing my eyes, wondering why he thinks he’s allowed to cut off my tirade. But out of sheer curiosity, I ask, “You heard what?”

 

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