by Mark Tufo
Grabbing a vase of flowers, he tossed them, spilling the water. He brought his palms together in an exaggerated motion. The water swelled into a flood. Cresting into a wave, it washed over the fire dragon. Hot, thick clouds of steam filled the room.
Knightly was not entirely correct when he said she had nothing but parlor tricks. She had learned a lot in her years searching for the Soul Eaters. Even with this body, apparently she did not know quite enough. They were too evenly matched. Each raging spell canceling the other's out. She could not best him one-on-one in a game of magic. Not yet.
With an evil smile, Knightly used his not-so-secret weapon.
“Drake, attack Angelique.”
She had feared this, knew it was inevitable. Her feelings for Drake and his for her obvious.
The Fae had disabled two of the vamps. Still holding the other off, he came for her, staring with those dead, white eyes.
Tamsin had been told by other supernaturals you needed to be unemotional and calculating to succeed against evil. “Become as cold as your enemy,” was their advice. Everyone in your way should be nothing more than collateral damage. Like Knightly said of Nicole. She could not consign Drake to that category.
No, not him.
She would regret it forever. Quite literally in her case since she could never die the true death without her soul. As a lost spirit she would live in another body again and again. Drake had only this one life. And life was so terribly precious.
She danced away from the black sword. Her heart constricting with regret, she had been hoping for more. More time to explore his revelations that he could see her. More time in this body. More time with him.
That's what everyone thought in battle.
Just a little more time, please.
Carefully positioning a counterspell to move Knightly into position, she ran towards the Soul Eater. Up the wall, faster than the eye could see, across the ceiling, flipping backwards and coming down directly behind. She grabbed him and using the momentum, just kept going. Angelique's great strength propelled them both through the giant plate glass window overlooking the water below. The glass shattered into large, jagged pieces and they were reflected, locked together like lovers, over and over as they fell.
It seemed to take forever, that fall. The freezing air whipping past them, slipping through the thick flurries of snow. They struck the water at last with bone-jarring force, breaking through the thin layer of ice that had formed in the night. The shock of the impact cracked Knightly's concentration as she hoped it would. Tamsin could feel the energy field waver as she held him tightly.
The lake closed over them both. Looking up through the freezing water, even as she struggled to hold the sorcerer, her vampire vision zeroed in on Drake's face. He was staring out the broken window, the look of horror in his eyes mirroring the one she had seen when she first awoke in this body. Was it only a few nights ago? So much had happened. She sank deeper, watching helplessly as he climbed up on the shattered frame, realizing he was going to jump. Try to save her. His legs tensed for the leap. That's when she saw the shimmer of charcoal gray.
The Prime stepped out from between time. Faster than any slipstreaming she had ever seen. His beautiful, tapered hands gripped the Fae's shoulders and they were gone in a single heartbeat. The current took her and Knightly and she saw no more.
They were dragged under the ice. The water so cold it burned like fire. Water filled her lungs and she finally lost her hold on him – as she knew she would. This had been a delaying tactic only, keeping him busy saving himself instead of his Faerie bargain. Breaking away from her, Knightly kicked desperately up towards the surface. Angelique's weakness was water. The liquid swiftly leached all power from her, leaving her helpless.
Death, as Tamsin had observed, has many subtle and varied layers. But dying is never easy. No matter how many times you've done it. Tamsin fought blindly at the end, the panic overwhelming her. Desperate to die and desperate to breathe in equal measures. She called out Drake's name in her mind.
As she sank into the freezing black depths of Lake Michigan, she almost thought she heard him call back.
◦ Chapter 18
March is still cold in Chicago, though much of the snow was gone.
Drake was on Michigan Avenue, right in the middle of the Magnificent Mile. A sunny Saturday that everyone seemed intent on enjoying. The hint of spring encouraging enough today that the terrace of the coffee house was full even if the little tables were still clustered around several large tower heaters.
Drake sat apart from the rest, a mug of cappuccino warming his hands, his eyes unfocused, thoughts turned inward. He'd been spending a lot of time like this since he lost Tamsin. Her sacrifice had freed him from Knightly's bargain, as she intended. Funny, he didn't feel very free these days.
Chicago was not his town. It belonged to the Primes and especially the Dupreys. That was one family he went out of his way to avoid – except for Angelique. The well-fortified bolt hole just a temporary arrangement on loan from an acquaintance. Drake had made a home for himself in the southwest. Reveling in the vast empty spaces of the Arizona desert and New Mexico. As unlike his lush, green homeland as could be imagined. Perhaps that was exactly why he liked it. Nothing there reminded him of Fae. He only stayed on in this cold, windy place to take care of unfinished business. Matters of life and death.
Sipping his coffee, he glanced at the people strolling back and forth. It took him a moment to realize one of the passing throng had stopped on the other side of the terrace railing. A woman with white blond hair, masses of it piled in curls and ringlets, was staring at him. Her clothing was a frothy confection of cape, dress, lace petticoats and shawls in an assorted palette of pastels. The ensemble was topped incongruously by a large and extraordinarily ugly knit cap in orange and green with a pompom that had seen better days. Much better days.
“Do they have almond croissants here?” she asked, her head cocked to one side. “I'd kill for an almond croissant.”
He looked into her eyes. They were enormous. The palest of blue; the lids tattooed with curling black lines making them appear even larger. Then he looked deeper.
When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.“I've been sitting in coffee shops for a month and a half all over this damn city hoping you would find me.”
“I will look for you as long as you will look back, Drake. Oh crap!”
'Oh crap?' He thought.
A furious barking broke out behind her and Tamsin took off running, skirts and petticoats kicking up behind her. A pack of dogs – purebred and mutt, big and small – came running around the corner, paws pounding the pavement. Barking joyously, they took off in pursuit.
Drake watched his soul-lost girl disappear in a fluffy blur of lace around the corner.
What the hell? As humans so eloquently put it.
Abandoning his coffee, Drake hopped over the terrace railing and ran after Tamsin and her petticoats and the pack of dogs.
He rounded the corner and could not see her. He heard the dogs, though, and ran in that direction. Criss-crossing the busy streets past iconic brand-name stores along the Miracle Mile, Drake gave chase. They were moving very fast. Tamsin zig-zagging back and forth and in and out of stores. She wasn't that hard to follow since he mostly just asked groups of staring pedestrians which way the impromptu circus parade had gone.
Some blocks away from their starting point, a furious whisper made him stop in his tracks. “Drake, Drake!”
He was by the water. Straining his eyes, he looked left and right.
“Tamsin?”
“Help!” came a squeaky voice from somewhere near his feet.
Leaning over the low wall of the river walk, he saw a poof of petticoats and the wretched looking pompom and cap over a large amount of hair.
One-handed, Drake reached down and pulled Tamsin up and over.
“Darling...” he started to say, his voice husky with longing and, truth be told, a little hoarse
from running.
“Shush!” she held her finger to his lips.
The noisy pack seemed to have temporarily lost the scent. They were some distance away, on the other side of the canal if his tracking instincts were correct.
She slumped against him, her chest heaving. “I think I lost them. What did you say?”
In answer, he swept her up and off her feet, into his arms, his mouth on hers. He pulled this stranger to him, frothy petticoats and all, knowing Tamsin was inside. Dogs be damned. When he kissed her, there she was, kissing him right back. That little bow mouth and the crooked nose, the gray eyes staring unflinchingly into his.
“I missed you,” he mouthed the words around her lips, unwilling to let go.
“Me, too.”
People passing by on the riverside walk smiled and looked at each other nodding, it was nice to see people in love.
He held her close and she was content to snuggle next to him, breathing in his scent, her fingers restlessly stroking his cheeks.
“I thought I might not find you. I thought...maybe, you...that...” her voice trailed off into silence.
“That I wouldn't be here? Looking for you? That it was just the words of a man. Words of convenience.”
She nodded.
He turned his head so she could see his eyes, “All the creatures of Fae are passionate. Far too passionate for our own or any mortal's good. We fall in and out of lust at a moment's notice. But deeper feelings? They are frightening even to us. One of the reasons we prefer not to get entangled is because we fall very hard. I haven't been able to get you out of my mind since that chaotic night at the sorcerer's. When you jumped into the water, I knew what you had done. For me. You gave up the power of a Prime. Power you needed.”
There was a catch in his voice and for a moment he turned away to compose himself. “Remember your sweet Swiss succubus and the safety deposit box? You had me hooked right there, though I didn't know it then. If you do not want to be with me, Tamsin West, I am not sure how I will be able go on.”
Their's was a strange world without absolutes. Tamsin wasn't quite sure if his speech translated to 'I love you'. Yet it was close enough. She had missed him desperately. They might not have a happily ever after but they had here and now. More than that, she could not hope for.
“And I want to be with you too, Drake without a last name.”
He smiled and there was no more talking for quite awhile after that.
Somewhere nearby a dog barked and Tamsin jumped in his arms.
Looking her up and down, he was able to take in the size, thickness, and color of her head gear. To say it was very out of place with the fairy-tale femininity of her outfit was a vast understatement. “My dearest, darling, soul-less little Tamsin. As much as I have missed you, I have to say that is a very ugly cap.”
She lifted it just high enough so he could see a pair of little, white, curling horns, like rams horns, high up on either side of her head.
His eyes grew very big indeed, “What are you?”
She gave him a rueful grin. “I seem to be a cross between Little Bo Peep and one of her sheep, which I find profoundly disturbing. If I start to bleat, you must gag me.”
His eyes took on a sly gleam, “Sounds like fun.”
She gave him such a look that he was unable to hold back the laughter that burst forth. Tamsin being Tamsin, she couldn't help laughing as well. She laughed so hard her eyes watered and then, much to her surprise, the tears began to fall in earnest. It had been so very hard to get back to him. All the while wondering if he would even be there, looking back. Drake held her while she cried, whispering words of comfort, kissing the tears away.
When she calmed down enough, he had to ask, “What is up with the dogs?”
She made a face. “I don't know! They just keep chasing me. Is it the shepherdess thing or the sheep thing? They don't want to hurt me. The crazy mutts just fall all over me licking and licking. There hasn't been time to go through the spells I've learned and see if I have one for repelling packs of adoring dogs. Somehow I don't think so. Hasn't been a top priority, you know?”
He laughed. They had not spent much time together, however he felt this was the sort of situation Tamsin found herself in rather often.
Still holding her, he leaned against the low wall as the afternoon turned to evening. Stayed as the dogs continued to bark in the distance, questing for her scent. Stayed until even Drake could not ignore the growling demands of Tamsin's stomach.
“Hungry?”
She nodded vigorously. “Starving.”
“Why am I not surprised.”
She smiled and kissed him.
“Come on, we''ll get something nice for you.”
Drake set her down on the street and together they walked arm-in-arm towards the familiar logo at a coffeehouse on the corner. Tamsin cast a worried look up and down the street, watching for wagging tails. She was thinking they might need a quick getaway.
“Inside or out?” Drake asked.
Tamsin motioned outside in case she needed a running start. He said he would fetch the coffee and food if she wanted to sit.
She shook her head, and holding his hand, stayed by him. At this moment she could not bear to have Drake out of her sight.
March nights in Chicago are not meant for outdoor tables, generally. The terrace here was full anyway, thanks to its prime location and the generous number of heaters glowing warmly. Tamsin insisted they choose seats by the railing to keep an eye on the street. Even by the heaters it was chilly and Drake took off his thick, suede trench coat to wrap around her as he pulled Tamsin onto his lap. He'd had it mended by a skilled goblin tailor he found online in the Dark Pages – the information web for the supernatural substrata. It was good work. You couldn't even tell the sleeves had been ripped off.
Drake smiled as she oohed and aah'd over the coffee and pile of croissants, the crumbs falling on his coat, just as before. He watched her eat, his arms wrapped around her little waist.
“Oh, I've got something for you.”
He reached into the inside pocket of his coat, which happened to be resting next to her breast at the moment since she was wearing it. He let his fingers linger before pulling out an object.
“I thought you might want this back.”
Tamsin's heart leapt in joy and surprise. The angry little face of Puzuzu stared up at her from Drake's hand.
“Knightly left it just sitting there on the mantlepiece after things turned, shall we say, hectic?”
“Oh thank you, thank you so much!” She kissed him and there was no more talking.
Some time later, out of the corner of her eye, even distracted as she was by Drake, Tamsin saw a black shadow. The shadow flowed out of nowhere, over the railing to crouch by their table. The darkness shimmered and an enormous, gray dog-like creature popped into sight. The beast grinned at Tamsin showing rows of teeth and licked its whiskers with a bright red, forked tongue.
She gulped and tried to rise, automatically reaching for the dagger hidden in her voluminous skirts.
Drake pulled her hand back, “Take it easy. No cause for alarm. This is a new friend.”
The beast reached out one massive paw for her to shake. Tamsin automatically took it.
“Desmond, Tamsin. Tamsin, Desmond.”
“The dog thing's name is Desmond?” Even with everything Tamsin had seen since she turned to dust, a giant shadowy dog looking very much like an Irish Wolfhound with nearly twice its mass and named Desmond was just a little odd.
“He is a Capelthwaite. From Fae. Like me. We met in the aftermath of the Duprey's raid on Knightly's HQ. Dez has a score to settle with that little man just as we do.”
The hound nodded and grinned even more widely, licking his teeth and savagely flicking a long, barbed, prehensile tail.
“He's sentient.” Tamsin realized, saying it out loud.
“Very much so.”
Capelthwaites lived along the rocky shores of Faerie se
as, Drake explained. Their dark gray fur grew matted and hard as a rhino’s horn, impervious to arrows, swords, tooth and claw. When aroused to anger, their bodies flared with a heat that could sear skin and set wood aflame. Their understanding was great but they had no form of speech the Fae races could mimic. Instead, the dogs relied on a simple form of sign language to communicate. Their nimble clawed paws, which aided them around the steep cliff-faces they called home, formed easily into gestures.
Tamsin offered one of the croissants on her plate to Desmond. Using his clever tail, he took it and held it to his mouth, licking his lips.
Looking around, she couldn't help noticing the fact that no one seemed to be staring at this dog the size of a pony.
“Are you or is he,” Tamsin pointed at the dog-thing, “holding the glamour over us? Because there has to be a reason no one is staring.”
Drake put his hand up. “Me.”
A scream of tires, screeching brakes and crunching metal had Tamsin up out of Drake's lap like a shot. Her adoring pack of dogs came running across the street heedless of the traffic, barking, slobbering and baying as though they had found their hearts' desire
“Oh crap!” Tamsin and Drake said simultaneously.
She cringed. Everyone was certainly staring now, magic or no magic.
Paws on the railing, muzzles, heads and forequarters pushing through the gaps, the sight of her set off a seismic wave of tail wagging.
Gathering her petticoats, Tamsin prepared to make a run for it through the coffeehouse. Desmond the Capelthwaite reared up on his hind legs and put out a paw as though to restrain her. Turning with a big doggy grin, he confronted the pack and for lack of a better word, talked to them. He didn't really bark. The creature's voice was rhythmic and melodious, rising and falling almost like a yodel. To Tamsin's great and utter relief, the pack quieted as if on command and very shortly turned around and trotted down the street.