She flinched and glanced down at her deep-blue tunic and leggings. Compared to the rest of the people, it was a bit out of place. “I guess that would be smart.” She considered the buildings around them. “Where does Eryx live?”
“Not far from here. We can walk if you want, but flying would be faster.”
And more inconspicuous. He might not have verbalized it, but the agitation in his posture and the way he constantly surveyed their surroundings broadcasted it quite clearly.
“Flying is fine.” More than fine really. She could use a minute to center herself without the highway’s drone. Not to mention the added benefit of being in his arms again.
She gave herself an internal shake as he guided her into a hidden spot, and tried to ignore the feel of his arms around her when he picked her up. Letting any wishful, intimate thoughts of Ludan burrow into her imagination was a dangerous game. Hoping for a nice, normal relationship someday was one thing. Fantasizing about Ludan was something else altogether.
Around them, the skies had darkened to full night, though the color here leaned more toward drudge-gray than the rich, velvet black of Eden. The August air was thick and sultry. Cars zipped beneath them, and buildings of different heights and blacktop streets covered every square inch. It looked odd. Void and empty. Soulless.
They’d barely been in the air five minutes when Ludan touched down on a tall rooftop. Outdoor furniture circled a stone fire pit, and off to one side was a brick arrangement that made her think of Orla’s wood stove back home.
No, not home. This was home.
Ludan cupped her shoulder. “Hey.”
Brenna snapped from her thoughts. “Sorry. I was thinking.”
“About?”
She shook her head and surveyed the rest of the concrete-covered space. “It’s just…” Not at all what she remembered. “Different.”
He splayed his hand low on her back and guided her to a plain black door near the corner. “It is, and it isn’t. The environment and the culture are different, but the people are basically the same.”
They took the barren, concrete stairwell down one flight and came out in a posh elevator landing decorated in deep grays and black. Only a few pearl and silver accents broke the dramatic décor. One entrance sat directly opposite the elevator, a double door made of ebony wood with intricate details carved in the smooth surface.
Ludan stopped in front of it, focused on the door handle for all of two seconds, and then twisted it.
“Don’t you need a key?” She was sure she remembered her parents using them when she was little.
“If I know where the lock is, I don’t need a key.” He tapped his temple and grinned. “A Myren perk.”
That was a perk. One she’d be smart to learn if she ever got a chance. Then again, Ludan wouldn’t be here forever, and she wouldn’t have any other Myrens to mirror from, so maybe learning was a waste of time.
Behind her, the door clicked shut. It should have been still and quiet, but the rush of traffic and city noise still droned beyond the windows. And there were a lot of them, an entire wall of nothing but glass that ran the length of the apartment. Outside, downtown’s yellow and blue-tinted lights dotted an otherwise sea of black.
“The apartment’s not huge, but it’s got everything we’ll need.” Ludan stalked to a row of switches just inside the entrance and flipped them all with the flat of his hand. “Kitchen’s to the left. Bedrooms are to the right. You can take the master at the end of the hall. I usually sleep in the one next to it.”
The words registered, but she couldn’t quite get past the fact that he thought it wasn’t big. Sure it wasn’t the castle, but she was pretty sure the house she’d been born in wasn’t this large. In keeping with the colors in the elevator landing, the space was decorated in dove gray, black, and soft white, but unlike the outside, it was cozy and welcoming. Thick black beams ran floor-to-ceiling in fifteen or twenty-foot segments, and warm lighting shone on them to create elegant warmth.
She paced toward the center of the room. Leather and lavender scented the air, fueled by a showroom-new, oversized couch centered in front of the windows and the bowl of potpourri on the glass and wrought-iron coffee table. “I would never have imagined a place like this for Eryx.” She dragged her fingers along the back of a white and gray club chair. “It suits him, but at the same time it doesn’t.”
“You’ve only seen one side of him. He’s been alive a long time. Seen more than most.”
Because they lived longer than humans. As in a lot longer. Lexi had mentioned some Myrens lived into their mid-six-hundreds. A huge difference to her expected lifespan.
Ludan prowled toward the kitchen. “I’ll need to run out and get some food and cash.” He flipped another set of switches and glanced over his shoulder. “You think you’ll be okay for about an hour?”
Trailing behind him, she soaked in her surroundings, fully aware her that mouth hung open, but she was too far gone to care. She smoothed her fingertips against the silver refrigerator. She’d forgotten about those. And ovens. Though her parents never had one as huge as the one in this kitchen. God, what she would have done for either of those in the last fifteen years.
On the stone countertop sat a large leather-covered box with five slim rectangle boxes with shiny glass fronts. Ludan plucked one from its stand and swiped the front with his thumb. Colorful lights blazed to life with more appearing the more he touched the glass.
He nodded and handed her the one he’d picked up. “If you need me, just call.”
The device was cold in her hand and so skinny she was afraid she’d drop it. Bright squares with bold designs sat lined up in tiny rows. “What do I do with it?”
For a second, Ludan’s jaw slackened. He closed it and scratched the back of his head. “Shit, I forgot. They didn’t have mobile phones like this when you were little.” He sidled up behind her and pointed to a green square with a telephone on it at the bottom. “Push this.”
She did and a white screen popped up.
“Now push the star.”
Every instruction she followed to the letter, only vaguely registering what she was doing. Nothing could register beyond the tingles scampering along her skin and the wishful thoughts that fired when he was this close.
“You think you’ve got it?”
Not even close. She nodded anyway and set the phone on the counter, hoping he wouldn’t ask her to prove it.
The frown he aimed at her said he knew better than to believe her, but instead of pushing it, he strode to the refrigerator and yanked it open. He scanned the inside and shook his head. “Nothing in here worth keeping except the beer.” He shut the door and opened an onyx cabinet above a built-in desk at the back of the kitchen. Rows of keys jingled on hooks inside, and Ludan snatched a set in the middle. “Anything in particular you want from the store?”
She blinked, mentally scrambling for anything she’d liked when she was little. “All I remember are Lucky Charms. And peanut butter. And marshmallows, but I only got those in the winter when we went camping.”
He smiled so big Brenna staggered back a step. It was beautiful. Easygoing and open, it transformed his entire presence. Prowling closer, he cupped the side of her face and traced her cheekbone with his thumb. “Lucky Charms, peanut butter, and marshmallows it is.”
Chapter 11
Ludan stepped from the portal into Ian’s backyard and bright morning sunshine. As power drains went, portals were the end all be all, but flying to Tulsa from Dallas would have taken twice the time. At a four-hour one-way trip, driving was out of the question. Brenna might have been happy to be home, but she was damned jumpy. She’d tried like histus to hide her less-than-magical reintroduction to human society, but the constant flinches and frowns spotlighted her disappointment.
Striding across the manicured lawn with the ridiculously high privacy fence they’d had installed for convenience, Ludan cracked his neck for the fifth time in less than an hour. Sleeping in a ch
air was for shit no matter the circumstance, but the second Brenna had padded from the master bedroom with a troubled pout and a claim she couldn’t sleep, he’d clicked off the TV without a word and offered to sit with her.
She’d looked at him like he was a god in that moment, and damned if he didn’t feel a good ten feet taller stalking behind her to the bedroom. Though, if she knew how selfish his reasons for jumping at the chance, she’d probably be terrified.
He slid open the sliding glass door to Ian’s kitchen and poked his head inside. “Ian?”
Jillian’s voice drifted from the adjacent living room. “He’s in his office.”
Shutting the door behind him, Ludan headed to the half-empty coffeepot. Compared to what he normally pilfered from Orla’s kitchen, Ian’s java was closer to flavored hot water, but at least he’d get a little caffeine. Then again, if he’d spent more time sleeping instead of staring at Brenna while she did, he wouldn’t need it in the first place.
He snatched half a bagel out of an Einstein bag and strolled into the living room.
Jillian sat stretched with her feet and legs up lengthwise on the old orange and chocolate woven couch. Like everything else in Ian’s house, it matched the late-seventies wood paneling and thick rock fireplace. The only thing new was the huge flat panel mounted in the big wall unit. Oddly, it was set to one of those old-school comedies TV Land always played. The one with the hot sixties witch.
Jillian glanced up from her laptop. “Hey, Ludan.”
“Hey, Squeak. Your dad busy?”
The question was no sooner out of his mouth than Ian ambled down the hallway on the opposite side of the room. “I thought I heard your grumpy rumble.” He jerked his thumb over one shoulder toward the spare bedroom turned makeshift office. “Eryx said you’d be coming by. Come on back and tell me what you’ve got.”
The hallway was all of ten strides long. Built like every other home from the late seventies, it was compact with a ceiling height that made him claustrophobic. Still, between their all-too-public altercation with Maxis in Texas and the mystery person stirring up panic by taking humans on guided tours through Eden, it had made for a handy and private PI Central.
Ludan glanced down the hallway at Jillian. Her knees were drawn up so the laptop screen rested against them, and her eyes were narrowed as though she were tracking down life’s lost secrets. “You got her working, too?”
The smile that split Ian’s face was pure fatherly pride. For more than sixteen years, he’d tried to find his missing wife and unborn child with no luck. Thanks to fate and Ian’s friendship with Lexi, he’d found Jillian in Eden, safe and very Myren. Granted, it had taken Ian being captured and near fatally tortured to bring all the pieces together, but Ian sure looked like he’d pay that price a few times over to stay with his kid.
“For a girl who’d never touched a computer before two months ago, her aptitude is off the charts. She picked it up a hell of a lot faster than I did. She’s got great instincts, too.” Ian slid around his desk and dropped into his worn leather banker’s chair. “You see the latest news?”
Ludan sat in one of the two uncomfortable chairs opposite the desk and braced his elbows on his knees. “The bit about the military upping their interest? Yeah, I saw it.” Actually, Brenna had been the one to see it after she’d figured out where the TV was while he was out running errands. It’d taken him an hour to peel her away from all the news channels. “Any word on how they plan to do that?”
Ian clicked his email program. “Word is they’ve corralled all of the people who claimed they’d been taken to Eden and are comparing stories.”
“Not going to win a PR contest with that approach.”
“Nope. And let’s hope they don’t dig up anything new. It’s already going to take a long time for this ruckus to die down.” Turning from the computer, Ian picked up a plain manila file and tossed it across the desk. “Eryx said you needed some background on Brenna. I haven’t been able to do much since Lexi brought me over this morning, but that’s a start.”
Ludan thumbed through the printed versions of newspaper stories and police reports. On the left-hand side of the file were Ian’s scrawled notes in thick black ink.
Brenna Haven
Disney World disappearance.
Suspected kidnapping.
Cold case.
Hometown: Allen, Texas
Mother: Abigail (Abby) Haven
Father: David Haven (deceased)
Ludan snapped his head up. “Deceased?”
“Yeah.” Ian frowned and tapped his thumb on the desk. “Two years to the day Brenna disappeared. From what I can tell, the couple burned every dime they had traveling back and forth from Texas to Florida trying to find her. Looks like the mom moved to Orlando shortly after his death. I’ll need a little more time to validate that and find an address. Assuming she’s still there.”
Unable to sit with that kind of news rattling around in his thoughts, Ludan pushed upright and paced to the window. Brenna would be devastated. Her magical fairytale ending was already a disappointment. How in histus was he supposed to tell her she was minus one parent on top of losing a good chunk of the life she should have had? As news went, it was a shit sandwich. “How much longer do you need?”
“Give me a few days. If the goal is to keep her safe, the last thing you two need is to go hunting on your own. I’ll narrow down a good address and place of business. Probably wouldn’t hurt to see if Mom’s holding things together better than Dad.”
“You got Brenna’s old address? The one she lived at before? She said she wanted to see it.”
Ian spun the folder around, rifled through the papers, and handed one over. “Right here. No clue yet what condition it’s in or who owns it yet.”
Ludan snatched the info and studied it. “You got my number?”
“Got ’em all.”
“Good. You get the information, give me a call.” Grabbing his coffee off the edge of the desk, he headed out the door. “I appreciate the effort.”
“Ludan.”
Ludan paused and looked back.
Ian leaned his elbows on the desk and clasped his hands in the middle. “I think it’s good what you’re doing. What you’re giving her.”
All Ludan could do was blink and mentally stutter. He’d been in countless dangerous and difficult situations, but this one was on par with a woman handing him a squalling newborn baby. The irony was off the charts. Ian thought he was doing something noble when, in truth, he was the biggest beneficiary. “I’m not doing anything special.”
Ian smiled and nodded, but damned if he didn’t have the same smug look as Eryx. “If you say so.”
Chapter 12
If Brenna thought the highway noise from the park was loud, actually being on the highway, surrounded by tons of other cars zipping in and out of the lanes around her, was worse. Way worse. She checked the seat belt strapped across her chest. “Is it always like this?”
Ludan glanced at her face, scanned her body, and semi-scowled as he stared back out the windshield. He’d been grumpy ever since he’d come back from visiting Ian, but the sour grapes had gotten worse after she’d tried on a T-shirt and jeans she’d found in Lexi’s closet. The T-shirt wasn’t too bad, but the jeans felt weird. Not uncomfortable, but awkward.
“Ludan?”
“Sorry.” He pulled in a deep breath and let it out. “This actually isn’t bad. It’s lunchtime right now. Nothing like rush hour.”
“What’s rush hour?”
His head snapped toward hers, and his eyes softened. “Today is Monday. That’s the first day of the work week for most humans. Rush hour is in the morning or afternoon when they’re driving back and forth to work.”
Another detail she didn’t know. She huffed and scowled out the window. Colorful signs and businesses flew past, most of which she could only guess their purpose. The ones that were easy to pick out were the restaurants, and after the food Ludan had brought back last night, she
wasn’t in a hurry to visit one. She’d remembered the word hamburger from when she was little, but the taste was way too fatty for her to eat.
The Hummer’s tires droned and vibrated against the highway, lulling her thoughts deeper and deeper. She really didn’t have a clue about this world. Even the things she’d remembered were so different in today’s world that they might as well be foreign. Like those phones. Granted they were pretty and it was nice to walk around without a cord, but they were confusing. Life in Eden was so much simpler. Cleaner.
She sat up straighter and glared out the windshield. This was home. Not Eden. So what if she needed to catch up a little? She’d figure things out eventually. The same way she’d done in Eden.
The engine’s growl dropped a notch, and Ludan exited the highway, veering onto a side road. Beside it was a single-story building that seemed to go on for two or more blocks with cars packed in the parking lot. “What’s that?”
“They call it an outlet mall. Lots of popular stores all clumped into one place like the one where you went ice skating, only outside.”
Huh. There sure were a lot of places like that. She didn’t remember her mom shopping very much, but maybe that’s what people did now. She craned her neck as they drove, looking for anything she’d recognize. A carved wooden sign on the side of the road said, Welcome to Allen!
She plastered one hand on the glass. “This is my town.” She spun back to Ludan. “This is the place I lived.”
Ludan smiled, but there was a sadness to it. Or maybe regret. “Yeah, this is your town.”
“Are you taking me…” She couldn’t say it. Didn’t dare for fear she’d jinx it.
“To see your home?”
The stoplight turned green.
Ludan turned the corner and glanced her direction. “Yes. That’s where we’re headed. Just to see the house though, nothing more.”
All the melancholy she’d nursed throughout the thirty-minute drive evaporated, replaced with an almost unbearable antsy crawl beneath her skin. She scanned every block, desperate for something to remember. Something to anchor her and bolster her hopes.
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