by Donna Grant
Elle glanced over in time to see Roderick grin, a wicked gleam in his eye. “I suppose this is something y’all like to do?”
“Y’all?”
Roderick
repeated.
“Yeah. Its kind of like your ‘’tis’. It’s a Texan thing.”
“If you say so,” he said and walked to his room.
Elle followed him and stopped in her tracks when she entered his domain. The front of the apartment was made to look as though he and Val were men of the twenty-first century, but his bedroom was another matter entirely.
Hanging from the ceiling in various lengths and thicknesses were sheer panels of the darkest burgundy and gold. On the floor were pillows of all sizes in matching colors.
There was no bed but what looked like a mattress with a black fur blanket thrown over the top of it.
No lamps, ceiling fan, radio or TV was in the room. Instead, candles where everywhere, hanging from the ceiling like a chandelier, beside the bed on a candelabra, and in clumps throughout the room.
The room took her to another time and place, one that she liked. As soon as she stepped into the room, she was instantly at peace, as if she had come home. And she could well imagine the romantic ambiance this room invoked when he brought a woman inside. That thought irritated her, so she turned her mind to wishing she were in his room because he was attracted to her, not because they were trying to save the world.
This room was straight out of one of her fantasies and so was Roderick.
“Incredible,” she breathed as she fingered one of the sheers beside the bed.
Roderick turned to her and glanced around the room. “’Tis very similar to the chamber on my realm. The only difference is the color.”
“What colors did you have?”
“White
and
silver.”
“Pretty colors,” she said, thinking how soothing that could be.
“It’s very nice together, but when I became a Shield, I found a love of darker colors that I never knew.” He shrugged and waved a hand around the room. “These are my colors now.”
“I
love
it.”
Their eyes met and held, and for an instant she could almost imagine that they had shared a connection. She glanced away and licked her lips.
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When she raised her gaze, Roderick had walked a few paces from her and opened a door she hadn’t seen. Inside was an array of weapons like only a collector could dream of owning.
“Goodness gracious,” she said as she hurried to stand beside Roderick and gawk at the weapons. “In all my years working in the museum, never once did we encounter anything like this.”
“As a Shield, the Fae equip us with any weapon they think will aide us. We also have a shield that has our personal emblem on it, though Val and I agreed to keep them hidden here.”
She heard the note of pride in his voice. “Incredible,” she breathed. “I would hide them.”
“Why?” he asked as he looked down at her, his brows furrowed.
“I would be afraid that I would damage or lose something.”
“The Fae replace it if I do,” he said and reached out to grab a small dagger. He handed it to her along with its sheath. “Do you know how to use this?”
“No,” she answered honestly as she reached for it. “But, I can figure it out.”
A faint smile touched his lips. “I will always be beside you, as will Val, but if something should happen, I want you to have a weapon.”
“Are you sure one is enough?” she asked as she looked longingly at a jewel encrusted sword.
Roderick chuckled as he closed the doors. “Maybe another time. For now, the dagger is enough.”
Elle wasn’t so sure, but she didn’t argue with him. She bent down and tied the sheath to her thigh. Once it was secure, she placed the dagger inside and straightened.
She watched as he belted on his sword at his waist, a long dagger at his thigh, and stuffed another in his boot. He then reached over and grasped his two headed flail.
“Where do we start our hunt?” she asked.
Val walked into the room, his sword buckled to his waist, and holding a halberd of the like she had never seen. She gasped and walked to him.
She saw him look over her head at Roderick.
“She likes weapons,” Roderick explained.
Elle examined the seven foot tall halberd as if it were a Fabergeègg. The base looked like wood, but as she ran her hand over it, she knew instantly that it wasn’t like any wood she knew.
“It was made from a magical oak tree that only grows in the Fae realm,” Val said as he watched her.
She nodded and noted the intricate scroll work that had been etched on the metal that came to a point as if a spear. Attached to the spear on one side was a thick blade like one would see on a war axe and the other side came to a startling needle sharp point.
Her hand lightly traced the surface of the blade and saw a design that resembled the Celtic knotwork on Roderick’s flail.
“’Tis our mark,” Roderick said.
She looked over her shoulder at him. “Mark?”
“The Shields,” Val said. “That mark is on all our weapons and anything else A KIND OF MAGIC
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given to use by the Fae.”
Elle looked again at Roderick’s flail and spotted the design on the handle as well as on each of the spiked balls. “Incredible work,” she said as she stepped away from Val.
“I’ve seen some fine halberds and flails before, but nothing like what y’all have.”
“Enough about the weapons. I’m eager for a hunt,” Val said, one side of his mouth pulled in a smile.
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Chapter Eleven
Elle was once again seated behind Roderick on his motorcycle. She had tried in vain to get them to use her car, but he and Val had adamantly refused.
“And if someone spots us carrying those weapons?” she had asked.
“They won’t,” was all Val would say.
“Where do we start?” she asked as she finished buckling the helmet in place.
“We follow the stench,” Val said just before he started his bike.
She waited until he had ridden off before she asked Roderick, “What does he mean?”
“We can smell evil, Elle. The truly nasty evil like the Harpies, and the people that have the blue stones.”
She shuddered and held on as he started the bike and raced after Val. Maybe she had made a mistake in not going with Aimery.
* * * *
Roderick hated Houston. The air hung with smells of rotten garbage and other things he couldn’t name that poured out of huge cylinder’s that Elle called refineries. He didn’t care what they were, they were killing the air.
He pulled off the side of the rode they had been traveling on for the better part of two hours and waited for Val. Most of the day had been spent traveling down roads Elle had pointed out to them, but they had found nothing.
An entire day’s search, and they hadn’t found one clue.
“Smell anything?” he asked when Val shut off his bike.
Val grimaced and shook his head. “I can hardly smell anything over the nastiness that hangs in the air.” He looked at Elle. “How can you stand to live here?”
She shrugged. “It’s all I’ve ever know. The refineries have started to get clean, though only because the government is making them. They’ve polluted our waters and air for many, many years.”
“I know,” Val grumbled.
“We’ve looked nearly all day,” Roderick said and glanced at the sky and sun that was beginning her descent.
“Since Elle doesn’t have the necklace, we can’t bait the Harpies,” Val said.
Roderick turned and looked at Elle over his shoulder. “Jen
nifer still hasn’t called?”
“No, and it’s not like her. I can’t help but feel she’s in trouble.”
“Would her man harm her?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know Alex all that well, but I don’t think so.”
Roderick pushed his hair out of his face and looked around. They had driven aimlessly, trying to pick up the scent of the Harpies, but had found nothing.
“We’re wasting time,” Val said. “Let’s return home and look for them in the sky.
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They will attack somewhere tonight.”
“Good idea,” Roderick said and started his motorcycle. He led the way back to the Huntington with Elle shouting directions in his ear.
At first he hadn’t felt comfortable with her on the back of his bike, but the more she was there, the more he found he liked it. Her arms held snuggly against him, but they didn’t dig into him, and the feel of her full breasts against his back made him hot and hard.
When he had turned onto Kirby and realized where he was, he felt her lay her head on his back. It had been a long time since a woman had been this close to him and, the protective feelings Elle stirred in him could only get him in trouble. He knew that, but he couldn’t help it. All he could do was not act on his feelings.
He turned into the garage and parked the bike. Just before he turned it off, he felt her squeeze him slightly before she lifted her head. She got off the bike first and stood beside him. There was a look in her light blue eyes, a longing he couldn’t quite identify.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She inhaled deeply and nodded. “I just want this over with. I should have listened to you last night and destroyed it then. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said and swung his leg over the bike. “We didn’t expect for you to believe everything we told you, especially after finding out so much in one night.”
He took the helmet she offered him and watched her comb her fingers through her long hair. As he sat the helmet on the bike’s seat, all he could think about was running his fingers through her hair as he plunged inside of her.
Instead, he followed her and Val into the little box that raised them to their home.
He normally hated the ride, but this time as he stood behind and to the right of Elle, he watched her and her easy manner.
She was petite in height, with a body that held all the right curves, curves he wanted to run his hands over. He remembered her lacy pink underthings and wondered what she had on beneath her clothing now. He yearned to know so badly he nearly yanked her clothes off.
The bell chimed as they reached the top floor. As they entered, he heard Elle gasp and knew it was because the place was now clean and everything mended. No more broken glass or destroyed furniture.
“The Fae?” she asked after a moment.
“Aye,” Roderick answered as he shut the door behind him.
“They’re rather handy to have around,” she said with a bright smile as she walked to the kitchen. “I don’t know about you, boys, but I’m hungry.”
“Can you cook?” Val asked.
She looked over her shoulder at him. “I’m decent, but nothing to write home about.”
“What?” Val asked.
“It means I’m all right but not the best,” she answered.
“As long as there is food, I’ll eat it,” Val said as he went to the balcony.
Roderick watched Elle rummage around in the tall box that kept things cold.
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What had Aimery told him it was? Ah, yes, a refrigerator. It was a great concept, and he wished he could take it back with him when they left this time.
He seated himself on the stool as Elle pulled out a package of meat.
“Chicken,” he heard her mumble.
“You don’t like chicken?”
She shrugged. “Chicken is chicken. I like it fine. Do you have any other meat?”
“I’m not sure what is in there.”
“Great,” she said as she opened the refrigerator again.
When she didn’t find anything else, she shut the door and turned to the package of chicken. Roderick had really liked the idea of not having to skin an animal. The meat was already skinned and cut for him. Another great idea.
Apparently, Elle didn’t share his opinions.
He had to cover his mouth with his hand to keep from laughing as she picked up a piece of the chicken between her thumb and forefinger, then dropped it like it scalded her. She then proceeded to take a knife and try to cut it, but every time she had to touch it, her body would shiver. Finally, she gave up and turned towards him.
“I hate the feel of raw meat in my hands. Chicken is some of the worst,” she said and shivered again.
Roderick kept his laughter inside as he rose and went to stand beside her. “I’ll cut it. Just tell me how you want it.”
After she showed him what to do, Roderick set about cutting up the chicken as she rummaged around in a small closet that held more food.
When he was finished with the chicken, she gave him another knife and an onion.
“Since you’re so talented at cutting things up,” she said with a bright smile.
Roderick took the knife and onion and chopped it up. He glanced over as she cooked and found he liked helping her, something he had never considered before. He heard her humming a tune under her breath, almost absently, as she worked. She took the chopped onion and put it in the pot and poured some wine over them.
“Want to do something else?” she asked him.
And to his surprise he answered, “Aye.”
“Will you butter the bread?”
And like a servant in his household on Thales, Roderick picked up the brush and began to butter the loaf of bread she had given him.
He wasn’t finished with it when Val walked in and Elle asked him to set the table.
Without blinking, Val grabbed the plates and sat them on the table. Roderick had expected Val to refuse or complain, but he was seeing a side of his friend he had never known.
A short time later, all three stood in the kitchen as Elle cooked.
“What are you cooking?” Val asked.
“A specialty of mine. Usually I cook it without meat, but I figured you boys might want meat.”
“Of course we want meat,” Val said. “How can you eat a meal without meat?”
Roderick had been about to ask the same thing.
She laughed. “There are some people that are vegetarians.”
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“What?” he and Val asked in unison.
“People that don’t eat any kind of meat or fish,” she said as she dumped some long thin things in boiling water. “They won’t even eat eggs because it comes from a chicken.”
“And I thought Rome had problems,” Val said to Roderick.
It wasn’t long after that they were sitting down to eat. Roderick couldn’t remember the last time they had sat at a table with a cooked meal. It had been so long ago it was a distant memory.
Worse, the easy charm of Elle brought back long buried memories of meals with his family on Thales. It was so poignant that, for a moment, Roderick couldn’t breathe.
“Are you all right?”
He looked down at Elle’s small hand on his arm, then raised his eyes to see the concern reflected in her gaze. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? If you don’t want this, I can cook something else,” she offered.
“Nay,” he stopped her as she started to rise. “The food looks and smells delicious.”
She stared at him a moment before reaching for the fork and dishing out the food to first Val and then him. As he accepted his plate, he caught Val’s gaze. The Roman watched him quietly, as though he knew what troubled him.
Roderick watched in amusem
ent as Val lifted the food on his fork and smelled it.
“What is it?” Val asked Elle.
“Its one of my favorites dishes that I make,” she said. “It’s chopped chicken in a lemon butter sauce with angel hair pasta.”
Roderick took a bite and loved the light taste of the noodles. “’Tis very good,” he said.
Elle lowered her eyes, and he could almost swear she blushed. He glared at Val, daring the Roman to say anything bad about the food.