Knights of Obsidian

by Shannon Lynn Cook

  “Kiss me,” I beg, running my fingers down his chest.

  “Not yet.” He lowers his lips to my neck. “I’m enjoying your breathless anticipation.”

  “You’re wicked.”

  “And you’re intoxicating.”

  I lean up, wrapping my hand around the back of his neck, about to take matters in my own hands, when my phone rings.

  Startled to get a call at this time of night, I roll over and snatch the cell off the nightstand.

  “It’s Rafe,” I murmur, and fear skitters down my spine.

  “What happened?” I ask the moment I answer the call. “Are you all right—”

  “Do you have any idea what time it is?” my knight demands, and the moment I hear his voice, I see him lying on a twin-sized bed, half-dressed in jeans, with his eyes closed and his arm flung over his head. “Please, please. Go to sleep.”

  The link.

  Just let me die—Rafe felt all that?

  “Did I wake you up?” I ask, feeling extraordinarily stupid.

  The knight is quiet for a moment before he answers, “Yes.”

  His tone is funny, so I know there’s more to it, but I don’t dare ask—besides, I don’t want to know.

  “Sorry,” I murmur.

  The embarrassment merges with despair, and I rub a hand over my forehead. How is this ever going to work? If Rafe can feel it the moment I get close to someone, Jonathan and I are truly doomed. I swear if it’s not one thing keeping the Griffon and me apart, it’s twenty others.

  “I’m going to go,” Jonathan whispers, and then he brushes the lightest kiss against my cheek. “You know where I am if you need me.”

  I watch him leave, desperately wanting to call him back. But what good will that do? It’s not like I’m going to sit here and purposely torture Rafe.

  But…this is too much. Because of the link, I’ll never be able to get close to anyone ever again—even when I’m careful to hide it, even when Rafe and I are five hundred miles apart.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” I admit, tucking my legs to my chest.

  “Well, it’s certainly a good thing Jonathan was there to entertain you.” Rafe’s words are abnormally sharp, and they sting.

  “You’re the one who insisted I tell him,” I hiss into the phone, closing my eyes so I don’t have to see him. But look at that…he’s still there. Which means Rafe most likely saw me with Jonathan even though he had his eyes closed too.

  Which probably didn’t feel great.

  “If Jonathan hadn’t seen your text, none of this would have happened,” I tell him, softening my tone a bit. “If you want to blame anyone, blame yourself.”

  Rafe finally opens his eyes, and we connect. Thankfully, it’s like he’s here with me and not the other way around—I certainly don’t want in that apartment.

  And though I know he’s not actually on my bed, it looks like he’s next to me. The illusion is unsettling.

  “I thought the space would help,” he says, looking weary.

  “But it doesn’t, does it? At least not enough?”

  He shakes his head and stares at the ceiling.

  I frown as I study him. He hasn’t shaved in several days, so there’s a thick shadow across his jaw. His feet are bare, and so is his chest. But what’s with the jeans?

  “Who wears jeans to bed?” I ask, changing the subject. “Isn’t that uncomfortable?”

  “I don’t sleep in them.” Slowly, he rolls his head toward me and raises a brow, waiting for me to figure it out.

  He must have pulled them on before he called.

  I glance down at my own nighttime attire and then cross my arms. I guess it’s a good thing I was decent when I answered. Not that I had plans to get un-decent—I didn’t. But still.

  “Night, Lexie,” he says, looking like he’s about to end the call.

  “Wait…”

  He looks up, meeting my eyes. I purse my lips, realizing I don’t know what to say.

  “Never mind.” I cross my legs in front of me and force an apologetic smile. “Sorry I woke you.”

  “It’s really not your fault. I just…”

  “Would like to sleep?” I offer when it seems like he doesn’t know how to finish the thought.

  The knight watches me for several moments, looking like there’s more to it than just that. But he ends up saying, “Yeah.”

  “Okay. Well…get some sleep then.” I watch him several seconds before I mouth, “Bye,” and end the call.

  He fades away shortly after, leaving me alone. Not that I wasn’t alone before—I guess I was. This whole thing is weird.

  It’s like having a ghost for a knight.

  20

  “Hey, princess, we need to talk,” Gray says.

  The expo opens in forty minutes, and we’re supposed to be down there in five. Eric left an hour ago at Sienna’s request, though he made sure we knew he wasn’t happy about it.

  Jonathan looks between us, not sure what to do. He jabs a thumb at the door. “I’ll head to the convention center?”

  Gray nods. Jonathan meets my eyes before he leaves, silently telling me to call if I need anything.

  Part of me—a skittish part—wants to ask Gray if he intends to murder me. You know, so Jonathan will know the Wolf’s intentions before he leaves.

  But I suppose that’s just me being paranoid.

  Jonathan steps out the door, and I turn to Gray, feeling nervous. Since I called things off between us, we haven’t been alone together very much.

  “Jonathan said you forgot your Taser.”

  “Oh.” I frown, though I’m relieved that this is all it is.

  I expected something personal and highly uncomfortable—most likely something about Jonathan and me, and how we’re breaking all kinds of rules by sneaking around when he expressly forbid fraternizing between team members.

  “I left it at Jonathan and Eric’s place,” I tell him.

  He nods, looking thoughtful. “I think with everything going on, you need something a little more effective.”

  “Like a stronger Taser?” I ask, surprised to realize I’m looking forward to an upgrade that doesn’t involve rhinestones.

  I mean, stun guns sound lame, but I’ve taken out a full-grown troll with my beginner model. They’re pretty effective. And considering the hoity-toity, professional knight marshals won’t let me near an actual gun, it suits me well.

  “Not like a Taser,” he says. “Like a gun.”

  I open my mouth and then close it. After several moments, I say, “Like..a gun gun?”

  Gray crosses his arms, trying not to smile when we’re having this very serious conversation. “I wasn’t thinking a squirt gun.”

  I cock my head to the side. “Is that a good idea? I mean, really?”

  “I’m going to have Donavan keep an eye on things this morning, and we’re going to a shooting range. I’m going to teach you how to use it.”

  “Like…just us?”

  Jonathan’s words from yesterday come back to me, but hopefully, he’s wrong.

  The Wolf raises his eyebrows. “What’s wrong, princess? Scared?”

  Um. Yes.

  “This is your job,” I argue. “Are you sure you should leave someone else in charge? Won’t you get in trouble?”

  “Listen, even if it’s just for my own peace of mind, I need to know you can defend yourself without using your magic.”

  I set my hands on my hips, giving him a wry smile. “In other words, you don’t want me accidentally summoning my shadow minions if I were to find myself in trouble?”

  He shrugs.

  “All right.” I turn my head to the left and then the right, stretching my neck. “Let’s go shoot stuff.”

  Gray’s eyes drop to my feet. “You might want to change your shoes.”

  I look down at my very sensible open toe pumps—the heel is only two and a half inches—easy to walk or run in, at least for me. “But I’m always in heels. Don’t you think I should learn in the
m since I wear them all the time?”

  He shakes his head like I’m crazy and rolls his eyes. “Yes, fine.”

  The pistol Gray bought for me is tiny. He says it has an exceptionally low recoil for a gun this size, but I can still feel it.

  “I don’t know about this,” I tell Gray after an hour, pulling off my earmuffs. Both my arm and shoulder are already sore, and I can’t hit the target to save my life. “I kind of suck.”

  The Wolf nods, staring at my sadly pristine white paper target. “You really do.”

  I sigh, carefully setting the handgun on the ledge in front of me before I remove my safety glasses. “I feel better though—no wonder Squirrels are always blowing stuff up. This sort of thing is quite the stress reliever.”

  “Imagine how good you’d feel if you’d actually hit the target.”

  “Funny.” I study him. “You’re in a good mood today.”

  He pushes his ear protection back on, picks up the gun, takes aim, and fires rapidly, sending the bullets into the target with terrifying accuracy. When he’s out, he looks back. “It’s good to get away for a few hours.”

  I almost ask him how his uncle is doing and then bite my tongue. He doesn’t need that right now.

  “You’re a good shot,” I tell him instead.

  He flashes me a cocky smirk, his light blue eyes sparkling. “Best in my graduating class.”

  “I don’t see that title in my future, so I think I’d better stick with my Taser.”

  “It’s your choice.” Finished for the day, Gray leads me out of the shooting room. “But now you have the option.”

  “Is it even legal for me to carry it?” I ask, leaning in and lowering my voice so no one will overhear. “Shouldn’t I take a concealed carry class or something?”

  “The guild makes special arrangements for its employees,” Gray says rather cryptically. “If you want it, it’s legal enough.”

  I take out the clip and check the slide to make sure it’s empty, just like Gray showed me, and then hand it back to him. “I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

  He nods. “We’ll work on it some more when we get home, okay? I’d feel better if you had a real weapon on you.”

  “Too bad I’m not a Dragon, huh?”

  Gray chuckles. “If you were a Dragon, we wouldn’t be here.”

  Good point.

  “Now what?” I ask him, a little disappointed the outing was for nothing. Another part of me was glad to play hooky for the morning.

  “Now I guess we upgrade your Taser.”

  “What about the gun?” I ask, feeling bad because he bought it just for me—pretty sure he doesn’t want to run around with that little thing.

  Gray loops an arm around my shoulder, wrapping me in the smell of drug store deodorant and man. “Don’t worry about it, princess. It’ll be waiting for you when you’re ready.”

  We leave the building, and Gray orders a taxi. While we wait, I look around, taking in the nearby warehouses and small businesses. Next door, there’s a small appliance repair shop, and several lots down, there’s a store that specializes in car stereo systems and speakers. Everything around here is beige—the buildings, the gravel landscaping, and even the faded signs.

  “So what’s going on between you and Jonathan?” Gray asks out of the blue. He sits on a concrete ledge, staring at the half-full parking lot.

  “Nothing.”

  He angles his head to the side and flashes me an incredulous look. “You know, for a Fox, you’re a remarkably bad liar.”

  Sighing, I brush the concrete next to him with my hand and then sit. “What exactly do you think can happen between Jonathan and me when I’m linked to Rafe?”

  Bitter doesn’t sound good on me, but that’s what he’s going to get if he goes down this road.

  Gray watches me and then nods once. “Nothing.”

  “See there? I wasn’t lying.”

  “I know this is going to sound a bit hypocritical coming from me, but you shouldn’t date team members. I created the rule to save you from pain.”

  I turn to him, making him meet my eyes. “You didn’t seem to have a problem with it in Tahoe.”

  “Yeah, but you have to admit I kind of suck as a person.”

  Even though I try not to smile, I fail. “Jonathan doesn’t suck.”

  Gray’s expression turns solemn. “I know, and that’s why I’m concerned.”

  I look at my heels, flexing my feet. “If you’re about to give me the ‘Jonathan is a great guy and you better not hurt him’ speech, please know Rafe has already beat you to it—and he gave me his blessing.”

  Or whatever you want to call it. Though I hate to say permission, that’s probably closer.

  “Was that before or after you and he linked your magic?”

  “Before.” I stand, needing to pace. “Listen, don’t worry about it, okay? I get it. I understand. The moment I linked with Rafe, my chance with Jonathan, or anyone else for that matter, went up in a puff of Obsidian smoke.”

  Gray watches me without answering, though I can feel opinions oozing from his very being.

  Frustrated, I turn back to face him. “But what was I supposed to do? Let you all die? Give the creatures free rein? I had no choice.”

  “I know.”

  “And furthermore—” I stop abruptly and turn back. “What?”

  Gray stands. “I would have done the same thing in your position. You did what needed to be done.”

  I stare at him, not sure what to say.

  “Listen, I just don’t want to see the two of you hurt, all right?” He sets his hands on my shoulders and pins me with his light blue eyes. “We’ve had enough of that on this team. I know it’s the last thing you want to hear, but maybe it’s best if you and Jonathan agree to keep your relationship platonic.”

  My shoulders sag. “We’ve tried that. We’re not good at it.”

  And frankly, I’m sick of trying.

  “Then maybe it’s time you were with someone else.”

  I stare at him, wondering how badly it will hurt my fist if I punch him in the stomach. Probably a lot.

  “Not me,” he says quickly, having the decency to look embarrassed. “I meant Rafe.”

  My stomach knots, and I step away. “It’s too dangerous—I know; he’s told me a thousand times.”

  “Do you like him?”

  Do I?

  I want to say no, but the thing is…I’m not sure anymore. And being with him would be easy.

  “I don’t want to lose my chance with Jonathan,” I say, my voice flat. “I don’t want to lose him.”

  Gray’s face softens with sympathy—not my favorite expression on him. “Princess, that’s what you’re not grasping. You’re not going to lose your chance with Jonathan—you already have.”

  Gray and I walk into the convention, but he’s immediately stopped by Donavan. The Wolf greets me as well, but it’s obvious it’s Gray he wants to speak with. I take advantage of the moment and slip away, hoping Gray won’t notice.

  I just need a few minutes by myself to breathe.

  “Madeline,” Georgette Don Patrick calls, stopping me as I walk through the convention. The designer smiles when I turn to face her. “You look like a woman on a mission.”

  “I’m looking for Jonathan,” I say. “Have you seen him?”

  She shakes her head. “I’m afraid not.” She steps closer and lowers her voice. “There’s been another incident, I’m afraid.”

  “What?” I ask. “This morning?”

  “Sara Clarkson. She was paralyzed, however, that’s thankfully worn off. We were looking for her, though we didn’t know anything was amiss at first because Sienna received a text from her this morning saying she’d picked up a stomach bug. Considering everything going on, Sienna decided it best to send an assistant to the girl’s room, and she wasn’t there. One of the knight marshals on Donavan’s team finally found her behind a vending machine in one of the employee halls.”

  Sara
? Eric’s Sara?

  “That’s awful,” I say, suddenly feeling guilty for the less than complimentary thoughts I’d had about her. “Is she all right?”

  Georgette nods. “As all right as she can be. She said whoever it was sneaked up behind her, so she didn’t see anything.”

  “What about the security cameras?”

  “The man was wearing a dark baseball cap and nondescript clothing. Supposedly, it was impossible to see his face.”

  This pixie is walking around right under our noses.

  “You look tired,” Georgette says, her voice softening. “Not sleeping well?”

  “No.”

  “Guy trouble?” she laughs, giving me a knowing smile.

  I look around the convention, wondering where the pixie is hiding. And is it only the pixie? Are there more of the criminals lurking, just waiting to get another Peacock alone?

  “You could say that,” I finally answer, letting my attention wander. Jonathan has to be here somewhere.

  Across from us, the cosmetic retailers are bustling.

  “Is that your sponsor?” I ask, nodding in the direction of the Chaletta booth. “The company that makes the face cream?”

  Georgette looks over. “Yes, that’s them. They’re certainly popular, aren’t they? You could probably use a bit of it yourself—brighten those eyes right up.”

  I make a noise of agreement. Several models loiter near the stand, taking their time choosing products. Surely if they use them, they must be good, right?

  “Actually, I just need some more concealer,” I say, dismissing the thought of going over there and loading up on products. “I lost mine during our last job.”

  “There are several makeup companies represented,” Georgette says, looking like she’s about to walk away. “Try Claudette, if you’re looking for something light. I personally use Le Paon, and it’s fabulous. Oh, Austin Lane is a good brand too—great foundation.”

  She then says goodbye, leaving me wondering where Jonathan might be. No doubt he’s looking for the pixie, but where?

  I spot Annika walking from the cosmetics area, Chaletta bag in hand.