by Keri Arthur
As I turned around, the blankets slipped from my shoulders, exposing my upper body to his gaze. His jade green gaze drifted slowly down my length and then came up so heated, my pulse leapt in anticipation.
“Morning, gorgeous,” he murmured. “You’re looking much better.”
“And this statement has, of course, nothing to do with the fact I also happen to be mostly naked.”
As was he. The blankets were sitting low enough on his hips to reveal the top of his boxer shorts.
“Of course it doesn’t—though it has to be said that I much prefer waking to the company of a lusciously naked lady than alone.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And how often do you wake up in such company?”
“Far too few times for my liking.”
A smile twitched my lips. “I thought you said Blackbirds weren’t monks?”
“We’re not. It’s just that some of us are more discerning than others.”
Or just more damn stoic. “What happened to the sofa?”
“It was too small and very uncomfortable.”
“I believe I said it would be. Someone was too stubborn to admit I might be right.”
“That someone was in self-preservation mode.”
“And still is, if the divide of blankets is anything to go by.”
“I won’t start something I can’t finish, Gwen. I can’t.”
It was a comment accompanied by a flash of old pain. I studied him for a moment and then said softly, “Who was she? The woman in red, I mean.”
He sighed. “Her name was Aurora Aquitaine. I was assigned to protect her after a Darkside kidnapping attempt.”
“Then how did she end up in a damn hecatomb?”
A hecatomb might have once been a place where the Greeks sacrificed either oxen or humans to their gods, but these days they were an exchange point—an arena where human life was offered up to Darkside for some kind of service or for information. We’d unfortunately uncovered one after Tris had inadvertently led us there—and we still didn’t know what information he’d received in return for the life of the young woman he’d taken there.
“She ended up there because I was young and overconfident.”
“We were all that once, Luc.”
“Yes, but I was a Blackbird—”
“You’re also flesh and blood, and mistakes come with that condition.”
He didn’t look comforted—hardly surprising, given how long he’d carried this guilt around. “So, what happened?”
“I fell for her—hard. It could have been lust, it could have been love—I’ll never know for sure, because she died at my feet in that hecatomb.” He drew in a breath and released it slowly. “We’d gone weeks without any sign of demons. Early one morning, I left her sleeping and went to the bakery to get some fresh croissants. I came back to discover the house had been ransacked and Aurora gone.”
“How did you find her?”
“The one thing I did do right was place a tracer spell on her.”
I frowned. “How? The Durant skill is manipulating light and shadows, not personal magic.”
“My grandmother was a Lancaster. Her ability trickled down to two of my sisters and me.” He raised an eyebrow. “How do you think I was able to lock down that gate we found in Ainslyn?”
“I thought you wove a light barrier around it.”
“I did, but I also locked it down magically just to be safe. I should have done the same for Aurora.”
I gently cupped his bristly cheek. “You can’t keep blaming yourself for something that happened over ten years ago, Luc. You were young and inexperienced.”
“All true. But it was a lesson learned and a mistake I’ll not repeat.”
“You can’t go through life with your heart locked up. It’s not healthy.”
“When I’m working it is.”
“And when you’re not?”
Amusement tugged at his lips, chasing the lingering wisps of hurt and guilt from his eyes. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”
“Trust me, this is restrained. Remember who my grandmother is.” I let my fingers drift to his lips. He didn’t say anything, didn’t respond, but his eyes burned with heat. “But unless you’re willing to risk that heart of yours, this will be the full extent of our flirtation, and certainly all I’m willing to offer.”
His arm tightened around my waist and tugged me closer. Despite the layers of blankets between us, his erection was very evident. And lord, he was big. “Does flirtation involve kissing?”
I tried to get a grip on suddenly giddy hormones. “No.”
“I’m owed one, you know.”
“Are you just?”
“Remember the cave?”
“How could I forget?” Not only had we somehow managed to survive a tunnel collapse, but we’d also done so with the Witch King’s crown still in our possession. It was now in the hands of the Lady of Lake. If it wasn’t safe with her, then it wouldn’t be safe with anyone.
“Then you’ll remember our celebratory kiss was interrupted by the arrival of evildoers.”
“So it was. And?”
“And, I doubt we’ll face any such interruptions for the next few minutes. I aim to claim my kiss.”
“I wouldn’t bet on not being interrupted. There’s a five-year-old in the next bedroom, remember.” Amusement tugged at my lips. “And to quote your own statement, it would be utter lunacy to think either of us will stop at—”
The rest of the sentence was cut off as his lips claimed mine. There was absolutely nothing sweet about this kiss; it was all heat, hunger, and passion, and it made my soul sing and my heart soar. This was a kiss filled with the weight of centuries, even if it was very much of the moment.
And, oh, what a moment.
With our bodies crushed so close, I couldn’t help but be intensely aware of every part of him, from the rapid rise and fall of his chest to the heated hardness pressing against my lower stomach. I wanted to explore his muscular splendor with hands and tongue. Wanted to kiss my way along the happy trail of hair that started at his belly button and disappeared under the blankets still covering his hips. Wanted to caress the long, wondrous length of him.
But I didn’t caress him, and nor he me. Our connection was one of lips and soul only.
By the time he pulled away, sweat dotted my skin, my heart raced, and my body ached with need. But at least I wasn’t alone in any of that.
A rueful smile touched his glorious lips. “That wasn’t the wisest thing I’ve ever done. Not if distance is to be maintained.”
“Not my problem—”
“Oh,” he said, eyes glinting wickedly, “I think it is.”
I snorted softly, but any reply I might have made was cut off by a soft squeal that came from the room next door. Riona …
I flung the blankets off and grabbed my T-shirt, pulling it on as I bolted next door. A quick look around her room didn’t reveal an immediate threat, but she twisted from side to side and punched wildly at the air. It looked for all the world like she was fighting something—or someone—off.
I sat on the side of her bed and gently touched her forehead. It was sweaty, suggesting she’d been fighting her dream battle for a while.
“Riona?” I leaned back to avoid one flying fist. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
She continued flailing for several seconds and then her eyes popped open. Confusion and fear shone from her bright eyes. “Gwen?”
“Yes, and you’re safe, Riona. No one will harm you while Luc and I are here.”
“But he was here. He was in my mind.”
I frowned and brushed the sweaty strands of hair out of her eyes. “Who was in your mind?”
“The gray man.”
My stomach flip-flopped, and it was all I could to keep my voice calm. “And does the gray man have a name?”
She nodded and dragged the blankets closer to her nose as if to fend him off again. When she finally answered, it was in
a fear-filled whisper.
“His name is Winter.”
Chapter Six
A thick fist of fear replaced the flip-flopping. If Winter had been in contact with this little girl, then we were in all sorts of trouble.
“What did Winter want?” My voice, I was relieved to hear, held no hint of the inner panic.
She bit her lip, fear evident. I smiled and tugged her up into my arms. Her little body was hot and trembling. “It’s okay, Riona. Nothing you said to him will ever make us angry.”
She hesitated, and then said, “I told him we were at a house in Wigan, but I don’t know where.”
We. Fuck. “And did he make you tell him who you were with?”
She pulled back, her lips trembling. It was answer enough. “It’s okay, Riona. Really, it is.”
“But he’ll come for me. He always comes for me.”
Something within went cold. “Where does he take you when he comes for you?”
“To the dark place.”
Holy fuck … I swallowed the rage and tried to remain calm. I didn’t want to scare her. “Does Winter talk to Reign the same way?”
She nodded. I swore. Silently—vehemently. Gianna might be on the run, but she wouldn’t get far. Not if Winter could track her son via some form of sleep telepathy.
“Does you mom accompany you when Winter takes you to the dark place?”
She shook her head. “Just Reign.”
“And what happens when you go to there?”
“They teach us to speak their magic and their language.”
It wasn’t unusual for witches to be taught magic at such a young age, but I hated to think just how badly Darkside would be twisting—fouling—the lessons. “So you can speak the dark language?”
She nodded. “They … they scare me.”
“They scare me, too,” I admitted and hugged her for the longest time.
A soft noise had me glancing over my shoulder, though I was well aware it was Luc at the door rather than Winter or one of his half-demon thugs. “We’ll need to get out of here.”
He nodded. “I’ve already called Mo. She’ll contact Jackie and Ron and get them to meet us at Waterloo. They’ll take her off grid until it’s safe.”
“There is nowhere safe if Winter is able to communicate with her telepathically.”
“Apparently Ron will be able to counter any further attempts.”
Which suggested Ron’s abilities ran to personal magic rather than elemental—unless, of course, there were non-magical means of countering telepathy. Given the preternatural team apparently had psychics on their books as well as witches, I guess it would make sense that a psychic means of countering such attacks existed.
I glanced down at Riona. “We’ll have to leave. Do you want a hand getting dressed?”
“I’m big. I can do it myself.”
“Good. But if Winter makes another attempt to contact you, let me know, okay?”
She nodded. “He only comes at night.”
“Probably because the night gives him a stronger range and easier access to her mind,” Luc said. “Shall I make toasted sandwiches for everyone?”
“Cheese and Marmite, please,” Riona immediately said.
“Done. See you downstairs in a few minutes.”
Riona got dressed, and then I brushed her hair. A few golden strands got caught in the bristles, so I plucked them free and wrapped them in a tissue. If Darkside did catch up with her, then Mo would be able to use them to trace her.
We headed into the other bedroom; once I’d fully dressed, she took my hand, and we headed down the stairs. It felt oddly right—felt as if we were family rather than two strangers—and I couldn’t help wondering yet again if that was because her father was my brother. As much as I kept hoping he wasn’t involved in this whole mess, there was a tiny part of me that welcomed her arrival. I could certainly deal with having a niece …
Luc handed us each a paper-wrapped sandwich, then picked up the keys and ushered us out of the house—after first checking that it was safe to do so.
Once we were all in the car—Riona safely buckled into the back and happily consuming her sandwich and juice—we headed off. Thankfully, there was very little traffic on the road, so it only took little over half an hour to reach Waterloo.
As Luc drove through a myriad of streets, my phone beeped. I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced at the screen. “Jackie’s waiting in the café. She wants to know if we want coffee.”
He shook his head. “I think it better none of us hang about. The sooner we get Riona tucked safely away, the better.”
I nodded in agreement and then turned around. Her blue gaze met mine, sharp with an intelligence that went far beyond her years.
“Because Winter might be trying to find us, we’ll have to leave you for a few days. But a good friend of mine by the name of Jackie will be looking after you—will that be okay?”
Her lip trembled. “What about my mommy? And Reign?”
“We’re going to find them,” Luc said in a reassuring tone. “And when we do, we’ll bring them to you.”
“Is Jackie a witch, like you?”
I nodded. “And so is Ron, her friend. Between the two of them, they’ll keep you safe and keep Winter away from you.”
“He won’t speak to me?”
“He won’t speak to you,” I echoed firmly.
“You’ll come back for me?”
“I will. I promise.”
Some of the tension left her little body, and she nodded. Contract accepted, I thought, and hoped like hell I could fulfill it.
We climbed out of the car and, with Riona holding my hand, walked down to the café. It was a long, odd-looking building standing behind what looked for all the world like a disused toilet block. But it looked out over the nearby park and, on a clear morning, you’d probably catch glimpses of the nearby shoreline from the long line of windows.
Jackie turned and smiled as we entered. She was of average height, with short gray hair and blue-gray eyes. Her face still bore the fading remnants of the bruises she’d collected from the demon that had somehow caught her unawares and beaten her up, but the swelling had at least gone down. She certainly looked far less of a mess than she had the last time I’d seen her.
“Morning, all,” she said, her tone warm and cheery—deliberately so, I suspected. “Ron’s just gone to the bathroom. He won’t be long.”
I nodded and glanced down. “Riona, this is Jackie, the lady I told you about.”
Jackie immediately squatted in front of her. “Lovely to meet you, Riona.”
Riona studied her for a second then said, “What happened to your face?”
“A demon beat me up,” Jackie said, in a matter-of-fact manner.
“Is he dead?”
“He certainly is.”
“Good. They scare me.”
“They don’t scare me. And they don’t scare Ron.” She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of footsteps. “This is him now.”
Ron was a big man with snowy-white hair, a thick handlebar moustache, and a rotund face and figure. Add a beard, and he would have been a perfect Santa Claus.
He also oozed power, though I couldn’t immediately pin whether it was personal or elemental. It seemed to contain elements of both.
He squatted next to Jackie—doing so with an ease that belied his size—and smiled widely. “Do you like Elsa from Frozen?”
“Yes—why?”
“Because I was given a singing Elsa doll the other day, and it’s not really my thing. I thought you might like it—would you?”
Riona nodded.
“Shall we go get her, then?”
She nodded again but looked up at me. “You will come back?”
I knelt down and gave her a hug. “I promised, remember.”
“And Mommy?”
“We’re going to look for her now.”
She nodded, then stepped forward and almost shyly gripped Ron’s offered han
d. As they walked toward the door, Jackie gave me a slip of paper with a phone number on it. “Use this number if you need to contact us, as we’ve stashed our regular phones to prevent the possibility of tracking. Mo doesn’t know where we’ll be, and we intend to keep it that way. It’s safer for everyone.”
“Are you sure Ron can stop Darkside from contacting her via telepathy?” Luc said.
“It’s more likely to be a dream bonding rather than direct telepathy—there’s some evidence that halflings can manipulate the darkness to track and connect with their targets.”
I guess that made sense, given one of their parents lived and breathed darkness. “But Ron can stop it?”
“Yes. He’s got Durant blood, which has enhanced his own telepathic abilities and means he can sense darkness in someone’s mind. If you do find the mother, send us a text. We’ll arrange to meet off-site.”
I nodded. “Just be careful, Jackie. Darkside want this kid back bad.”
“They caught me unawares once. The bastards won’t get a second chance at me.” She squeezed my arm and then hurried out the door after Ron and Riona.
I glanced up at Luc. “It’s worrying that we haven’t heard anything from Jason about the mother yet. There can’t be that many clinics in Leeds.”
“I think we both know the mother is on the run. Do you want a drink to take with us?”
“A tea would be lovely.” I took a moment to admire not only the grace with which he moved but also the underlying sense of power barely restrained. “If Darkside can dream speak to Reign, there’s every chance they’ll find her before we can.”
“Which is why Jason’s bringing in a psychic.”
I frowned. “What sort of psychic?”
“A woman who uses psychometry to trace people.”
The more I learned about the preternatural division, the bigger it seemed to get. “So what’s our next move?”
He picked up the two takeaway cups and returned, handing one to me before motioning me on. “I dare say Mo will tell us once we get back to Ainslyn.”
I glanced up. “So you’ve no plans of your own?”
He opened the door and ushered me out. “I’ve plenty, but none of them are practical right now.”