by Montana Ash
“Huh?” his voice was muffled against her skin.
“Whatever has you so upset. It’s not me,” she explained.
He finally pulled back, tugging playfully on her ponytail, before stepping away. He ran a hand through his sweaty mop of reddish-brown hair before placing both hands on his hips, “Of course it’s not you. You’re perfect. I’m sorry if I made you feel any different …”
She hushed him with a finger to his lips, “Don’t apologise to me for my own insecurities. Just tell me what’s wrong … please.” She knew it wasn’t just bad memories – he lived with those every day.
She saw him clench his jaw before he spoke, “It’s my father.”
She stiffened, “What about him?”
“He’s here,” he informed her.
Ivy cursed and automatically reached for her sickle, swearing ripely when she realised she didn’t have it. When Lark tried to step around her, she pushed him back, frowning over her shoulder when he chuckled at her.
“Relax, Wonder Woman. He’s not literally right here, right now.”
Despite being the butt of his jest, she was happy to see the teasing glint back in his emerald eyes. She relaxed her stance minutely, “Tell me.”
“Orders are being recalled from all over the world with instructions to congregate here so they can meet Max. The Order of Tor is one of them. For all I know, he’s already at the Lodge.”
“And that makes you mad,” she guessed. It sure made her mad. She wanted to hunt the sick fucker down and remove his head from his shoulders right this instant.
“Mad? No, not mad,” Lark responded, surprising her.
“But what about …” she waved her hand at the punching bag.
He shook his head, “That’s not anger. My anger runs cold – not hot. What you saw was fear,” he snorted, “More than four years away from the man and just the sound of his name makes the spit dry up in my mouth. The man terrifies me,” he revealed, colour infusing his cheeks.
She wouldn’t allow him to feel even a second of shame over that fact. He had every right to feel afraid of the monster that had tormented him as a child. She was afraid of him too, if she was being honest. Isaac made her sick and scared and filled with loathing. Placing her hands on her man’s cheeks, she drew him down so she could press a series of soft kisses to his lips. He held still under her ministrations, letting her soothe him – the act soothing herself in the process. Finally, she teased his lips with her tongue, feeling his mouth open and then she was tangling her tongue with his in a deep, searing kiss. She allowed the moment to spin out until warmth turned to heat, before tearing her mouth from his;
“I won’t let him touch you again,” she promised, fiercely. Instead of saying he could take care of himself or he didn’t need a woman to fight his battles for him, he only smiled brilliantly at her;
“Thank you. I won’t let him touch me again, either.”
“Well … good, then.” Considering the matter settled, she moved on, “You said Orders – plural. Do you know how many?”
He shook his head, “No. But I intend to find out soon. I’ve asked Mordecai to come here to answer some questions. Surprisingly, he’s agreed. He’ll be here tomorrow. I do know that Stefan is here too – Cali’s former liege. And I understand a bunch of Dex’s old paladins are making their way back.”
She contemplated the new information for a moment, “All these people, all connected intimately to your family … you think it’s deliberate?”
Lark angled his head in the direction of the changeroom before heading toward it, “I have no doubt. The question is why.”
“An army?” Ivy suggested, feeling ice form in her gut. Lark shrugged and yanked his saturated tee shirt over his head once inside the changing area. She had to force her thoughts to stay on the very serious matter at hand rather than the creamy expanse of muscled skin in front of her eyes.
“If it’s an army, who’s recruiting? And who are they planning to strike at?” Lark asked.
Ivy figured the questions were rhetorical but she answered nonetheless, “At Max. Although, I can’t understand why someone would initiate such an attack considering Max hasn’t made any bold moves. It just doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t. But I’ll figure it out, mark my words.”
She knew he would. No-one could outsmart her guy. And wasn’t it a special kind of luxury that she had someone to call her own? Life is weird, she thought, realising Lark was still pacing now and still talking;
“And if that’s not enough, I still can’t shake the feeling about this chade Max – and I – keep dreaming about.”
“Is this about your nightmare last night?” She hated the nightly dreams which haunted him but she couldn’t fault his duty or dedication to his liege.
“Yeah. It’s the damn Darth Vader chade,” he huffed in aggravation.
She blinked at him, “The what?”
“It’s what I’ve been calling this super evil chade Max keeps dreaming about. He’s not like the others. He’s different – more important somehow. I just know it.”
“You’re saying Max is dreaming about one chade in particular?” she was trying to understand what had him so agitated.
He stopped pacing to stand in front of her, nodding his head fervently, “Yes. Over and over … he haunts her.”
“And he’s not the same as other chades. In what way?” she pressed, hoping to help ease him by being a sounding board. It had worked pretty well in the past.
“Well, he has the same look – white skin, black hair, skinny, black eyes. But …” he broke off, literally shuddering.
“But?” Ivy encouraged.
“But his eyes seem to have an awareness in them – an evil awareness.” He held up his hands, “I know how dramatic that sounds but there’s no other way to describe it. He’s like those chades from when you got hurt – only worse. The blackness in his eyes isn’t devoid of all emotion like other chades. It’s filled with malevolence, hate, calculation. Plus, he’s wearing a ring. I mean, how weird is that? Chades don’t wear jewellery.”
Ivy felt herself freeze; a ring? She’d heard a story once about a chade with a ring …
“Ivy! What is it? Ivy?!” she felt hard hands grab her upper arms and give her a small shake.
Refocusing her gaze, she saw that Lark’s face was filled with worry and wondered how long she’d spaced for. Wanting to reassure him quickly but also explain, she patted his chest, “I’m okay, I’m sorry. It was just the mention of a ring. I – I’ve heard about a chade with a ring …”
“What?” he grabbed her arms again, “Where? Tell me!” he demanded.
She shook her head, “I don’t have all the details. But I know someone who does,” she confirmed.
“Nikolai?” he guessed correctly, his ability to read her now well and truly honed, “We have to tell Max.”
He began dragging her out of the changeroom and she had to physically dig her heels into the tile. She didn’t think he even realised he was still shirtless; “Wait, Lark. Just wait! Let’s not get alarmist – it could be nothing. Let me talk to Nikolai and see where it leads, okay?”
He stopped and drew in a deep breath, “Shit. Sorry. You’re right, I just –”
“It’s fine. I feel the same urgency as you, trust me. I’ll call Nik immediately and …” she trailed off as Lark moved back into the room and stripped his track pants off, leaving him blessedly naked. She saw him smirk at her and she cleared her throat, “Well, maybe not immediately …”
“Hmm,” he murmured, reaching behind him to turn on the closest of the three showers. “It seems I’m very sweaty. I probably need someone to wash my back for me.”
She was already peeling off her clothes and tossing them to the tiled floor before he even finished his sentence. Thoughts of evil fathers and chades flitting to the back of her mind for now, “I’m sure I can accommodate you.”
He reached for her as steam began to fill the room, “You’re so
good to me.”
No, Ivy thought as she pressed herself against his hard frame, you’re so good to me.
THIRTY-SEVEN
‘Mordecai and his paladins are here,’ Beyden announced via the bond. He was on patrol at the front of the property.
Lark felt adrenaline surge through his system at the announcement. He’d spent another restless night, trying to come to terms with his theories. Instead of tossing and turning and disrupting Ivy – who was now officially staying in his room with the eye-rolling blessing of Ryker and the grudging acceptance of Beyden – he had spent another night out under the stars. Zombie had abandoned Max again in favour of keeping him company and Lark had used the mutt as his chosen sounding board. By the end of his explanation, the poor pup had looked just as confused and concerned as Lark felt. But Lark was also sure that he was right. Hence why his adrenal glands were currently working overtime.
“I still think we should have asked Blu or Garrett to come. They would have been more forthcoming with answers,” Darius pointed out from his seat beside him.
But Lark only shook his head, “No. It has to be Mordecai.”
“Because he’s the one in charge of gathering all the wardens?” Diana asked, eyeing him suspiciously. The woman was very canny.
“Something like that.”
“What aren’t you telling us?” Her lover questioned now – he was awfully canny too.
“It’s just a theory,” he tried to appease them. “I promise I’ll let you know as soon as it’s proven true or false.”
“Which one are you hoping for?” Darius asked.
“Huh?”
“Your expression – it’s troubled,” Darius pointed out. “I can’t tell if you want your idea to be right or wrong.”
“Neither do I,” he murmured.
Ryker walked in at that moment and herded everyone into the formal living area. Lark cringed as he looked around and saw all the bodies in the room. He had not won the discussion with Ryker about speaking to Mordecai on his own. However, he considered it a small victory when he had managed to convince Max to stay with Zombie in the bedroom until they deemed it secure for her to come down.
A few seconds later, Beyden entered the room, formally introducing Mordecai and his four paladins. Ryker stepped forward to give a traditional greeting in return and people took their respective seats. Lark saw Mordecai’s frosty green gaze seek out every corner of the room and he knew in his gut he was searching for Max.
“Thank you for coming here, Councilman,” Darius began. He was the most diplomatic of the bunch and would get everything started. Lark would step in when he felt the time was opportune.
Mordecai inclined his head, “You said you had questions.”
“We do. We are concerned with the growing rumours circulating regarding Max’s motives and purpose. As you can imagine, we are worried for her safety,” Darius offered.
“I’m aware of them. But as I’m sure you’re all very aware, the council can’t control rumours,” his voice was even and his face revealed nothing. Even his paladins were still and expressionless. These guys put Ivy to shame.
“Even when they are clearly slander? Max passed your little test. She proved she was indeed a Custodian. She also proved that chades could be saved, that they suffer an affliction,” Lark stated, testing the waters.
“That she did. The council is trying to change. Unfortunately, change doesn’t happen overnight.” For the first time, the warden sounded a little disappointed in that fact and Lark thought he knew why; the man had been forced to wait years for change already.
“No, it doesn’t,” Lark agreed. “In fact, change can take years, can’t it?” he asked, pointedly.
Mordecai’s eyes never left his own, giving nothing away. The man was good. He had learned to perfectly mask his face from all tells. No wonder he was known as ‘The Shark’. He was as cold as one and very likely, just as deadly.
“Was there anything else?” the man asked, looking past Lark as if he were dismissing him … or not wanting to go down his line of questioning.
Ryker gestured to Lark, ignoring the warden’s clear desire to change the interviewer, “Yes. Lark has more questions.”
Lark cleared his throat, “You weren’t here for the Great Massacre.”
Mordecai didn’t blink, “No. I was in India. There had been a devastating earthquake in the Himalayas. I was there easing the emotional burdens of the survivors as much as I could.”
“But you were aware of the increasing chade numbers and also the recalling of so many Orders to the area,” Lark stated.
“I was.”
“Were you the person responsible for ordering the return of so many wardens and paladins like you are now?” he tried very hard to keep his voice casual and polite.
“Not that I see the relevance … but no,” he answered, curtly.
Lark pressed on, knowing puzzle pieces were falling into place – at least for him; “It must have been devastating to learn of the loss of so many wardens and paladins, knowing you couldn’t do anything to help – being so far away and all.”
Mordecai’s jaw clenched now and one of his paladins shifted ever so slightly. Lark knew he was hitting a nerve, “Is that why you wanted to do something more proactive to try and help? To try and stop it from happening again?”
“The world wouldn’t survive another loss of her caretakers,” Mordecai stated, looking him dead in the eye. And Lark knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was right. He opened his mouth to ask his next question but stopped, unable to form the words he needed. In fact, he felt like he was unable to breathe. This was too big for him, too important. What the hell had he been thinking?
*****
Ivy saw the second her man began to panic. She wasn’t sure what it was about but it physically hurt her to see him stumble and doubt himself. His continued silence was drawing the attention of his Order and before she even thought about it, she crossed to him and grabbed his hand in hers in her first public display of affection. Hell, Cali was so big on hand holding, Ivy figured she’d score a few points from his friends too. She was just about to ask Lark if he was okay when the feel of the hand holding hers registered. She gasped, looking down, the feeling of déjà vu sweeping her under as quickly as a tidal wave. Unlike in the vision Max had shown her, this time Ivy’s eyes followed the arm that was attached to the hand. Then she followed the shoulder and traced her eyes up the neck, only to finally arrive at the face of the man who owned the hand.
Lark. It was Lark.
“It’s you,” she breathed.
Lark’s forehead creased, “What’s me?”
“The hand,” she explained. “You’re the hand!”
He looked down at their clasped palms and entwined fingers, “I’m the hand?”
“Yes!” she yelled as if it should be obvious, “You’re the person attached to the hand. I so wanted it to be you but I didn’t really know, you know? Sure, I could have tested the theory at any time but I was afraid to hope. And then, what if I was wrong? I wouldn’t have been able to bear it because I’m already in love with you. But I was supposed to be in love with the hand too. So I –”
“Whoa, hold up,” Lark tilted her chin up, forcing her gaze away from his hand, “You’re in love with me?”
“Of course I am! I love the person attached to the hand and you’re him.” He was usually so bright, she had no idea why he wasn’t following her now. She was being very clear.
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about and I don’t care. I just love you,” he gripped her other hand bringing them both to his chest.
“Me too. I mean, you. I love you. I don’t love me. I –” His lips cut off her inarticulate, insane ramblings and she melted against him, completely swept away in the moment of clarity. She should have reached for his hand a long time ago but she had been terrified. Both that his wouldn’t be the right hand and also that it would. But none of that mattered now. All that mattered was th
e man holding her tightly as he devoured her mouth. She was in love for the first time and she didn’t matter who knew. Which was probably just as well considering they were in a room full of people, including her brother.
A persistent throat clearing had them finally breaking apart, “Not that I’m not happy for you both. But we’re kind of in the middle of something …” Ryker gestured to their guests and Ivy felt herself flush under the scrutiny of the Death Warden.
Mordecai was one of her immediate superiors and she more often than not reported directly to him. She was positive he had never seen her with such blatant emotion and disregard for their laws. She had always been the ideal, cold, rule-following ranger. She pulled away from her boy-toy but she didn’t go far. And she didn’t release his hand.
“My apologies. Lark, you were saying …?” she prompted him, nodding in encouragement. She knew he had something important to say and she knew it had to be now.
He took a breath and faced the imposing warden once more, “What did you do? What did you do that was so proactive?”
The man was silent for so long, Ivy was convinced he wasn’t going to answer but then he spoke. And his words sent off a flurry of curious and confused murmurs throughout the room; “I prayed to the Great Mother.”
Lark nodded, looking pale but resolute, “I’m sure we’ve all done that. But this time was different, wasn’t it? This time, Mother Nature answered.”
A series of huhs and what the fucks came from Max’s Order but Lark never once looked away from Mordecai.
“She did,” Mordecai confirmed.
“But that’s not all she did, is it?” Lark demanded, softly … silkily.
Ivy felt the danger and the implied threat of that silky voice down to her marrow and noted the goosebumps that rose unwittingly to the surface of her skin. Damn, she shivered, he really was Isaac’s son. As for Mordecai, she had to give him credit; his face remained neutral and his green eyes retained their trademark coldness. Given he was surrounded by seven extremely protective paladins with very itchy blade hands, he sure was calm under pressure.