Until now.
“Are you all right?” Ryker’s voice came from behind me.
No. “Yes.” I turned over and leaned against the headboard.
He moved toward the bed and changed his mind halfway, grabbing a chair. He turned it backward and sat, folding his arms over the top. He wore army green pants with a bunch of loops and pockets down the sides and a navy blue T-shirt. He definitely bought our stuff at the same store. It was odd picturing him leafing through the women’s department, picking out my clothes.
His hair was wet and slicked back. The braids on the side of his head glistened with water. His beard was trimmed to a sexy scruff. He naturally had an enticing scent, but now it mixed with fresh soap. I took in a deep breath, almost tasting the stormy sweet fae smell on my tongue.
“We need a game plan,” he said.
Right. Business. I sat straighter, folding my legs.
“A lot has happened the last couple of days...”
“Yeah. You could say that.” I nodded. I sensed him waiting for me to continue.
“Zoey...”
“Wait.” I held up my hand. “I had a thought earlier.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Funny.” I rolled my eyes and continued. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but your fae powers might be the one thing keeping me alive.”
“What do you mean?” Ryker shifted on the chair.
“DMG’s first notion wasn’t all bad. Fae DNA saves human lives from diseases and the flaws in our own genetic material. I don’t know for sure, but what if your powers have corrected my defect?”
He leaned back, pondering the idea. “You think it’s possible?”
“Yeah, maybe. It’s a stretch, but I’ve stopped getting headaches since I acquired your magic.”
Ryker’s head went back as he looked at the ceiling, his hand scratching at his scruff. “What about the nosebleeds?”
“Yeah.” My shoulders sank. “I didn’t say it was definite. Merely a possibility.”
“Let’s hope there is a reason for all this.” Skepticism sounded in his voice, but a glint of hope hinted in his expression. We stayed quiet. Confidence in my theory dwindled from when I first thought of it. I wanted to believe I was right, but many things were telling me not to grip too hard.
Ryker cleared his throat. “Our game plan... what do you first want to deal with?”
“No matter what, you need to get your powers back. That is first... finding someone who can transfer your magic to you.”
“Not merely someone. A man named Regnus.”
“Regnus?”
“He’s someone I met through Amara. He is an extremely powerful shaman, the head of the shaman leaders. If there is a person who could help us, it would be him.”
Amara’s name always drove daggers of reality back into my heart. Reminding me our little bubble here was temporary.
“He won’t be easy to find. He’s a major recluse and uses spells to hide from people.”
“But we’ll do it.” I nodded. “We will track down this Regnus, get your powers back, and then I will go after DMG. Even if it’s my last act, I will take them—”
“Zoey.” He tried again to cut me off.
“I need to try and stop DMG from creating more like me. More babies who will die because the one thing Daniel begged I keep from them, those files with the information needed to take DMG down, are now in their hands. I failed him.”
Ryker scrubbed roughly at his chin.
“He has done so much for me. He risked his life for me and for what?” I shook my head, my teeth scraped over my bottom lip. “Without him in my life, I am not sure what would have happened to me. He saved me from myself. Brought me out of the gutter.”
“No.” Ryker shifted in his chair, irritation twisting the tendons in his jaw and neck. “You saved yourself.”
“You don’t understand. Daniel—”
Ryker slammed his hand into the chair. “Daniel, Daniel, Daniel... he’s not a fucking saint, Zoey.”
Warmth pooled in my chest like gasoline. A single spark would ignite the rage building.
“Yes,” I seethed through my teeth. “I know he’s not. But Daniel asked two things of me, and I botched one of them. What he’s done for me... I can’t... I won’t let him down again.”
“Jesus! Shut up about Daniel.” Ryker pushed out of the chair, his head rolling back in annoyance. “Daniel is dead. You can’t disappoint him or please him. He’s gone, Zoey. You need to deal with it.”
Spark. Flame.
Fury zapped through me and stood me on my feet. “Excuse me?”
“Daniel. Is. Dead.”
“Fuck you!”
A strange emotion twitched over Ryker’s features but disappeared too quickly for me to comprehend it.
“How dare you? You have no right to tell me what to do or how to feel,” I spat. “You know nothing about him or me.” I stabbed at my chest.
“I don’t know you? Are you kidding me?” Ryker’s mocking laugh chafed my nerves, pushing my head up higher in annoyance. “I’m probably the only one who does.”
Stormy rage thundered in my chest. A part of me knew he was speaking the truth, but it only drove my fury higher.
“You think Daniel knew the real you?” He pushed the chair out of his way, moving closer to me. “Did you ever tell him how you enjoyed the taste of blood? Or you liked fighting because it made you feel alive? It was the only time you finally felt you were living your own life. Not for Lexie. Not for Daniel. But for yourself.” He loomed over me, his eyes growing iridescent. I wanted to retreat, to hide in the corner—away from the truth. But I held my ground, looking up as he towered over me. “Did he know stealing gives you a high? It’s your way of saying fuck you to all the people who have better lives than you? And when you fight, deep down you feel you are getting back at the man who raped and abused you?” Breath caught in my throat. “It’s your way to control. Of taking back the times you couldn’t protect yourself. You still don’t think I know you? I can go on.” He threw up his arms. “Let’s start with your abandonment issu—”
“Stop!” I put my hands over my ears, fighting back the rage billowing inside. Ryker saw every one of my deepest fears I thought I kept tightly tucked away from view.
It pissed me off.
I dropped my arms, stepping up closer to him. “Like you should talk? You hate humans because the only family you ever loved, and who probably ever loved you, died. And you couldn’t save them. Instead of ‘dealing with it’ you turned your anger around on them. Blamed them! When in actuality you hate yourself for not being able to protect them. Your family, your little sister burned to death in a fire, and you couldn’t help them. They died. Why don’t you deal with it?” I leaned forward, my hands on my hips.
His mouth clenched so hard, muscles along his jaw jumped and twitched.
“Do you want me to start on your abandonment issues? What about Amara?” I jabbed my fingers into his chest. It rose and fell deeply, pushing back into my fingers. I knew I was going too far, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. “If you really loved someone, there is nothing you wouldn’t do to get them back. Nothing. Even give up the stone. But I don’t think you actually love her. She’s easy and convenient. You can’t love anyone. You won’t let yourself.”
Even I cringed at my words. Way, way too far.
Ryker’s face turned a deep purple, and he took a step back. I waited for the tornado of fury to erupt my way. Instead, he turned away from me and went back to the table. He leaned over it and took in a heavy gulp of air.
“So, we’re agreed. We start searching for the shaman tomorrow?” he said evenly.
I blinked several times before responding. The switch in emotion and subject unnerved me. “Yes.”
“Great.” He picked up the chair and slammed it in its place at the table, waking Sprig.
“Is the leprechaun dancing on the bar again?” Sprig mumbled, raising his head. “Huh? What?”
Ryker stomped toward the door.
“Where are you going?” I suddenly didn’t want him to go. How could we fight so horribly, and I still wanted him to stay next to me?
“Out.”
“Okay. Where?”
He yanked open the door. “I don’t have to answer to you, human.” He slammed the door, shaking the room.
“Is Daddy mad again?” Sprig sat up, already munching on a cold churro.
I stared at the door. “Looks like it.”
“Do we know why this time?”
Yes. “Nope,” I answered instead.
“Okay, so normal.”
“Yep.”
FOUR
After a while, I couldn’t handle sitting another moment in a room dripping with angry words, throttling me. Sprig and I departed the cramped space. I needed to get my mind off Ryker and our fight. I also wanted to do a little more “shopping” for some clothes and personal items guys didn’t think about.
Walking through the village at a slower pace, tourists seeped into the already clogged streets of people and stands. Lines of cramped stalls carried duplicates of heavy llama wool blankets and trinkets at exorbitant prices. I read that despite its magnificent setting, surrounded by tall peaks and magical dense forest, Aguas Calientes was not the most pleasant town. The influx of tourism caused the settlement to grow fast and callous. Maybe it was why I was attracted to it, why I felt a connection to the place. It was a lot like me. But the thing I didn’t like was the locals looked at the tourists only as dollar signs, shoving knickknacks in their faces as they walked by.
A train whistle blew, and the rumble of a departing train permeated the air, signaling the last train to Machu Picchu for the day. I wandered along the main square, finding a tiny store with the items I needed. There were few places to shop not filled with tourist crap. I focused hard as I gathered the items I needed and watched the storekeeper place them in a bag.
“You know me well, so put it on my tab, under Ms. Daniels,” I stated, keeping my eyes locked on his. The merchant put my stuff in the bag and waved to me as I left. Another place on our list to repay. We needed to get money. In Seattle, not paying for things had been a matter of survival. Here it felt wrong.
Sprig stayed on my shoulder and no one batted an eye. I didn’t want to use my glamour unless I had to. Then Sprig forced my hand into the “had to” category.
“Mango chips!” Sprig pointed, bouncing up and down on my arm. “They’re dipped in honey. Look!”
“Shhh!” I held my finger over my lips.
“Bhean, they are dipped. In. Honey.”
“Shush!”
A guy about my age stood near with a group of students. “Dude... her monkey talked. I swear to God.”
“Sure, Brandon.” A blond-haired guy smacked his friend’s shoulder. “How many tequila shots did you have?” He stumbled into a group of girls, his attention going to them.
“No, seriously.” Brandon pointed at me. “Your monkey fucking talked. I heard it.” Fear was laced so deep in Brandon’s eyes I could see him sobering up right in front of me.
Hell.
Pulling from deep down and striking at the power inside me, I felt it warm my insides. I caught his eyes and focused hard. You did not see or hear anything. You will not remember me or the monkey, I said in my head, filled with determination. The magic wrapped around my bones, pumping adrenaline higher. It felt good.
The kid blinked, shook his head, and ran past me, catching up with his friend, who had attached himself to the girls. “Thanks for ditching me,” Brandon called after him.
“You’re the drunk ass claiming to hear talking monkeys.” The blond-haired guy draped his arm around his buddy’s shoulder.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Brandon’s voice tapered off as the crowd engulfed them.
My gaze darted angrily to Sprig.
“Sorry,” he whispered in my ear.
“Do not do it again.”
“Okay, but can we still get the mangos? Pleeeeaassseee?” His soft voice tickled my ear.
I laughed, rubbing my temples. “Yeah.”
When we got back, Ryker was still gone. The sun dipped below the steep mountains, illuminating the window in rich reds, deep purples, and vibrant oranges, which exploded across the room.
I placed Sprig’s sleeping form in the top chest drawer on a hand towel for cushion. I plucked Pam, Sprig’s stuffed goat/friend, from my bag and laid her next to him. He’d wake up later for dinner, then dessert, then a late snack before actually going down for the night. Seriously, I was caring for an infant... or a hobbit. Could be either.
With a mango chip between my lips, I settled on the bed with Daniel’s Art of War book and the video camera. It was going to be difficult to watch again, but I needed to know every single detail Daniel laid out for me. It would help me with the DMG since they now possessed the actual files. But, honestly, I was watching it for me. To see Daniel again, to feel the comfort he always provided me. I also wanted to see if he left me any more clues in the book. Starting off easy, I opened it. I needed to build up before seeing Daniel. Scouring each page, I searched for any code I hadn’t seen before, but nothing new emerged on the pages. On my third time through, I realized I was avoiding watching the video.
“Come on, Zoey. It’s not going to get any easier,” I muttered, drawing my knees to my chest and grabbing the video camera. My finger hovered over the play button about to push down.
Bam!
A loud crack hit the door, causing me to jump. The fear was immediate and tapped straight into my adrenaline. Did DMG find us? Did Garrett?
Thump.
Another crash banged at the door. I leaped off the bed, my gaze searching for a knife or weapon. Dammit. Ryker had them all. Trained to work in unforeseen conditions, I assessed the room quickly. My heart thumped as the handle of the door twisted. It was locked, but if someone wanted in, they would find a way.
My eyes landed on my choice of weapon. I ripped the cord from the wall, plucking off the lampshade. It was heavy and made of a cheap metal. It wasn’t the best, but it would have to do.
Thud.
I tiptoed toward the door, the lamp in one hand. Rising up on my toes, I peered through the peephole. An eyeball stared back into mine. A garbled cry broke from my mouth, and I scrambled away from the door, tripping over myself.
“Leeett mee inn,” a voice slurred out. “Soey... lettt mmmee inn.” A knock rattled the door, then the sound of fabric sliding against the wood frame.
“Ryker?” I inched back toward the door.
“Swoey?” A childlike chuckle followed my distorted name.
My hand went to my chest, feeling the panic ebb from my muscles. “Fuck, Ryker.” I plopped the lamp on the table and went over and unlocked the door. “You scared me.”
As the door swung open, half of Ryker’s body fell into the room. He lay on the floor, giggling. I gaped at him. Normally, I would never put giggling and Ryker in the same sentence.
“Wow. You are drunk.”
A huge smile engulfed his face, making him appear younger. “I. Am.”
I couldn’t stop the amused smile tugging at my own lips. Red nosed and cheeked, chuckling like a schoolboy, he was adorable. And he made it impossible to be mad at him. I wanted to crawl on him and curl up on his chest like a kitten.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” I squatted, grabbing his arms.
“Will you be there?” he slurred.
“Since it’s where I sleep, I’m going to go with yes.”
“Then we should have sex,” Ryker mumbled as I helped him sit up.
“What?”
He blinked. “What?”
“What did you say?”
“Huh?” His attention already on something else. I sighed and pulled on his arms, trying to get him to his feet.
“Come on.” I draped his arm over my shoulder.
He stopped and turned to me, grabbing my arms. “I was mad, b-but you
were right.” He licked his lips, focusing on staying vertical. “I tell you something...” He stumbled over to the table, holding himself up.
“What?” I encouraged.
“It hit me...” But his attention fluttered away, his thought drifting off.
“What?” I was going to strangle him.
“I need sleep.” Ryker moved past me and crashed onto the bed fully clothed. It was only a moment before his snores matched Sprig’s.
Awesome.
His face turned toward me, his cheeks ruddy with drink. His large muscular arms grabbed for a pillow, tucking it under his head. The fabric strained against the bulging masses. His tall body stretched on the comforter, his feet slightly hanging over the end of the bed. His pert ass, which taunted me from day one, curved so shapely under his pants it was hard not to pet it.
Damn you, Wanderer, and your perky behind.
Shaking my head, I walked to the end of the bed, unlacing his boots. After several times trying to remove them, I finally straddled his leg and yanked. The first boot slipped off, and I braced for the smell of stinky feet, but only a sweet, woodsy smell wafted up my nose.
“Seriously?” I stuck the boot to my face. “You fae don’t even have the decency to have smelly feet? Come on, there’s got to be something wrong with you.” This was bordering on insult. I knew after a month of running, sweating, and continual wear, my boots reeked. But not Ryker; his smelled like Keebler cookies.
I stepped over his other leg. This boot took more effort, but finally it began to slide off. My finger fumbled with the weight of the shoe, and it fell to the floor. A muted thud reverberated off the rug. The boot was a lot heavier than the other.
“What the hell?” I bent, my knees hitting the small rug. I picked up the boot, feeling its mass.
The boot looked like an ordinary biker boot, but something niggled at my intuition, suggesting there might be more to this shoe. I pressed at the sides and yanked on the heel, but nothing gave. The heel was usually where spies kept things. My nails crawled at the edge of the heel padding inside. It lifted up like it had done it many times.
The Barrier Between (Collector Series # 2) Page 3