by Shona Husk
Verity smiled, her lips pressed tight, and then took him up the elevator, explaining the security features of the building. She was one of those people who couldn’t abide a silence. He tuned her out and made his own assessments. The elevator opened on a short, carpeted hallway. There were three doors, two apartments, and one fire escape. The door was simple, wood with gold numbering.
She swiped the key over the pad and opened the door. “I’ll give you a quick tour, then if you have any questions…” She lifted her eyebrows in invitation.
He doubted there would be anything left to say by the time she was finished. As she led him around the apartment she chattered about the benefits of living in the city and that building, as if she could explain why it was perfect if she talked for long enough.
It was. Not even her voice could fill the empty space.
He stopped at the balcony and stared out at the view, partially over the river and partially of the next building. Not the best view, but he didn’t care. Below him swirled the humanity he’d been forced to rejoin, yet up there it was quiet. He could fill the living area and the spare bedrooms with his books. Master the magic he’d learned but never used, and all without putting anyone at risk.
Amanda hovered at the edges of his thoughts like a golden-edged blade. Would he cut himself if he reached for her? He walked back inside and made a show of checking the stainless steel appliances that came with the apartment. When the agent paused for breath he took the opportunity to speak.
“Did the owners live here at all?”
“Only for a few months before they went overseas.”
He nodded as if carefully considering. “Is there any chance the owners would be interested in selling?”
She giggled and glanced at her file. “I don’t think so. They bought this place as an investment.”
“Anything similar for sale?”
“There’s a new building being constructed, but those apartments won’t be ready for another six months.”
Too long. He didn’t want to rent as if he was borrowing a life until someone took it back. Maybe he could convince them to sell. Dai let his vision slide. Vague impressions of the owners lingered as faint threads with no more substance than a cobweb. They hadn’t been overwritten so she was telling the truth.
“It’s been empty a while.”
“A few months. The economic downturn has opened a lot of rental availability in the city. I have apartments in other buildings, over in East Perth if you’d prefer something else.”
He shook his head. He liked that it was walking distance to everything. It meant no more driving and if he wanted to see Roan all he had to do was catch the train. “I’ll take it.”
“You don’t want to see the furnished one downstairs?”
“No.”
“I’ll need to check your rental references.”
Dai stopped with his hand resting on the marble kitchen counter. That could be a problem. He doubted the goblins in the Shadowlands would give him a good reference. After all, they hadn’t exactly left it as they’d found it. The rock spire that was their home was one of Roan’s creations, ripped out of the dust by the magic that had tried to steal his brother’s soul long before they knew the consequences. Dai considered it an improvement on the barren landscape. A landmark, like the pyramids of Egypt.
He looked at the threads that connected the real estate agent to the apartment, searching for something they had in common. He saw the tenuous fibers between his body and the agent. She was trying to form a connection like the one he had with Amanda. Did she think it would make the transaction easier? Would it?
If he used magic to secure the place, would that be wrong? Morally, probably, but it wouldn’t contravene any of the laws he swore to abide when being marked by the various lore masters. And he wouldn’t ensorcell her, just send her a suggestion—that she could ignore if she chose. With a thought he pushed his will along the connection she wanted to make.
You’re checking my outstanding references.
If it didn’t work, he was going to have to get Birch to fake some. He probably wasn’t their favorite client at the moment, but they weren’t his favorite bank either. He held his breath and ignored the pressure at the base of his skull that followed the use of even the tiny piece of magic as if warning him that he was overstepping.
The woman frowned and shuffled her papers as if confused for a moment. She wasn’t going to take the suggestion. Dammit.
Then she looked up, her eyes bright and her lips smiling as if he’d suggested something else entirely. “That all looks good. How will you be paying your deposit?”
Dai raised a brow. That was too easy. Far too easy. He glanced at the connections she was trying to make and pulled his own back. He didn’t want connections with random strangers. If that was the price of getting his way, it wasn’t worth it. And yet…he wanted to own the place, not rent.
“Credit card,” he said with a smile. He’d work on securing the purchase later. Paper contracts weren’t nearly as binding as people thought.
Chapter 5
Amanda opened the door that connected the garage to the house and went inside. Behind her, Brigit chattered about her day at Eliza’s. Usually Sheriff was running around outside and whining to be let in and be petted. She stopped in the hallway with her stomach knotted tight. The house was silent. Something wasn’t right.
Then Sheriff came bounding around the corner toward them.
“Get back in the car,” Amanda spoke through gritted teeth. Someone had let the dog in, which meant someone was in her house. There was only one person that could be.
“Mu-um.”
“Now…take Sheriff with you.” If the dog had already befriended Flynn, there was no point in keeping him with her. But the dog might keep Brigit distracted.
Brigit grabbed the dog’s collar and hauled him into the garage. Amanda waited until she heard the car door open and then close.
“Flynn.” Her footsteps echoed on the tiles. “I know you’re here.” Her voice was surprisingly level. Her fingers were wrapped around her cell phone, emergency already dialed. All she had to do was press connect.
“You rang the police.” His voice floated down the hallway. He was in her dining room.
“Your parents are worried. They want you home.” An outright lie, but hopefully he would believe her. The police’s description of the vicious assault played through her mind.
A man was in the hospital in an induced coma because Flynn wanted his gold watch. Sometimes it was as if he couldn’t distinguish between gold and golden colored things. He took them indiscriminately, wrapping paper and pens, ribbon…anything as long as the color was right. An obsessive compulsion to have gold. A human magpie. His parents first noticed his odd habits when he was a toddler and all the yellow building blocks had gone missing. They’d found them under his bed, and he’d refused to give them back.
“They think I’m a freak.” Flynn sat at her dining table with an open packet of steaks in front of him. Red blood stained his fingers. In the pale winter light creeping into her kitchen, his skin looked dull and gray instead of white.
“No they don’t. They are your parents. They love you.” Even if they didn’t understand him and were constantly frustrated by his strange behavior. All parents loved their children.
“I’m an embarrassment.”
Amanda sat opposite him. He looked so young; the stolen gold watch on his wrist was too large. “You need help.”
“Why? What’s wrong with lovin’ the look and feel of gold?” His fingers smoothed around the face of the watch as he spoke; blood streaked the glass.
“Nothing…but you can’t hurt people to get it.”
Flynn’s white eyebrows drew together as if he didn’t understand. Did he remember what he’d done? There were times in the past when he hadn’t remembered how he’d acquired his latest find.
“Are you still taking your meds?”
Flynn shrugged. “The police w
ant to put me in jail, don’t they?”
How could she tell him the truth? “What they do is up to you. Turn yourself in.”
“I’ve done nothin’ wrong.”
Amanda swallowed. He’d slipped, gone back to where he was when she’d first started seeing him. Maybe further, since he saw nothing wrong with violence to get his way. How could she help him? She didn’t know, but she had to protect her own family.
She got up from the table, and Flynn stood too. He was the same height as her, a boy almost a man and one capable of beating a man senseless. There was a hard glint in his pale eyes she’d never seen before. Was that how he’d looked before attacking? Dazed by the attraction of gold?
His gaze dropped to her hand and the shining gold band on her finger. Her wedding ring. No. He couldn’t have that. Matt had placed it on her finger. She put her hand behind her back, but it was too late. He’d seen it and wanted the gold.
“Give me the ring.”
“Flynn…” She started backing away. The table was still between them but not for long.
He eased around the chairs and stalked her. Oh God, she was going to have to give him the ring to get out of there.
“Mom, hurry up,” Brigit yelled.
Flynn tilted his head as if startled. “Give me the gold.”
“You’ll let me go?”
“Gold.” He held out his hand, still several paces away.
She pulled the ring off her finger and threw it across the floor. It bounced over the tiles, but she was already running. She slammed the door and got into the car. Brigit buckled herself in as they reversed out the driveway.
“Where are we going?”
“I don’t know.” Where was she going? What the hell was she going to do? Her hand shook as she shifted gears, her finger strangely naked. Her house had been invaded, but the loss of the ring hurt more, like she’d lost her armor against the world.
She stopped around the corner at the park where Brigit liked to play and rang the police. By the time they arrived, Flynn was gone and so was her ring. No doubt he’d add it to his hoard. While she knew it wasn’t his fault, she needed someone to blame. And it was easier to blame Flynn than herself. If she’d taken the ring off years before, it would have been safe, but instead she wore it because she was scared that if she took it off she wouldn’t think of Matt.
While the police waited, she packed a bag for Brigit and herself. Even though it went against every instinct, she was taking the cops’ advice and staying with Eliza. Just for a few days, until they caught Flynn. They kept reminding her how lucky she was.
Lucky.
That summed up her life. Lucky. How lucky she was to lose her father to early onset dementia; by the time she was twelve he didn’t know who she was. Lucky her mother quit her job to care for him and left her to sort out herself. Lucky to lose Matt, have his child, have a sickly daughter, and be dependent on the Coulter Trust to make ends meet.
Lucky her.
She clamped her teeth together as another wave of self-pity broke over her back. She forced a breath out between her teeth. It could be worse. There was always someone worse off. She didn’t want to believe that. She wanted to wallow, even though she’d sworn long ago not to do that. It was a trap. Once in the mud it had a tendency to cling and suck her down. She couldn’t afford to get stuck in the mire.
Brigit was talking the cop’s ear off in the kitchen. She was excited to be staying overnight with Eliza. To a kid, everything was a new adventure. To Amanda, it felt like defeat. She worked hard, damn hard to get there. To get to college, to finish college, to buy a house, and raise her daughter. Outrage got her moving again. She would get her life back; there was just a temporary hiccup.
She finished packing, rounded up Brigit and Sheriff, and off they went. The only night she’d ever spent under the Coulter roof was after Matt had a party while his parents were away. His father never approved of her—she didn’t have the right background. Yet she knew exactly which room she would be sleeping in—Matt’s.
There was nowhere else for her to stay.
Roan and Eliza were in the guest room, the master room having been gutted for renovation. And the study downstairs was being used by Dai. She couldn’t say the idea of being under the same roof as him was entirely unwelcome. Their last conversation left her with a desire to know more…and he was more forthcoming than Eliza. So the only two rooms left in the house were the bedrooms Matt and Eliza had used as children. And Brigit would want to sleep in Eliza’s princess room.
When they arrived, Brigit proved her right, immediately laying claim to the pink-and-white, rose-patterned room filled with old dolls and soft toys. There’d been a time when she’d first started dating Matt that she’d thought Eliza strange for keeping such a childish room as a teenager, but now she understood her need to hold on to the past. Eliza’s mother had decorated that room, and that was all Eliza had left of her. She touched her bare finger; she’d lost another piece of Matt.
In Matt’s room, she sat on the end of the bed. The room was the same as it was when he’d died. Surf posters on the wall. His clunky computer was on the desk. Clean laundry in a pile on the chair. Even surrounded by his things he was a memory, insubstantial and untouchable. The love they’d shared was faint and offered no warmth or support. She rubbed her hands together hoping the heat would reach her heart.
It didn’t. She was lonely. She didn’t want to be by herself. Dai’s smile flickered in her mind. He was quiet and mysterious and despite her best efforts she was drawn to him. Something about him sparked an interest she hadn’t felt, or wanted, in years. Her body knew exactly what she needed. Her skin ached to be touched. She wanted to be alive again.
Dai set her on edge like she was a desperate teenager. She closed her eyes. What would his lips taste like?
Amanda gave herself a shake. How could she be thinking of Dai while sleeping in Matt’s room? No matter what her body thought, she wasn’t going to start having flings and introducing strange men into Brigit’s life. With a sigh, she pushed aside all thoughts of men and what her body craved and went to check on Brigit.
She cracked open the bedroom door and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark. Brigit’s breathing was quiet, as it should be. The day off to rest had helped: one more and she’d be back to her usual self. Brigit knew the risks as she’d been hospitalized before. Her teachers knew, and Amanda wasn’t far away if anything happened. It was ten minutes from the high school where she worked to Brigit’s school. In a few more years, Brigit would be in high school. Her little girl was growing up.
Brigit rustled as she rolled over. “Mom, can you tell me about Dad?”
Amanda smiled. She should’ve known Brigit wouldn’t be asleep after all the excitement. “Sure, honey.”
She sat on the bed and smoothed Brigit’s hair. “Daddy liked to surf. We used to go to the beach all the time.”
“And I was in your tummy.” Brigit knew the story well.
“That’s right. One day he didn’t come back.” He’d gone to the aid of another surfer and they’d both disappeared. She’d been on the beach, with every breath she’d expected him to reappear. He didn’t, not until the next day when both men’s bodies washed ashore.
“Because the angels took him.”
“That’s right.” She’d started the lie for herself so she didn’t feel alone, even though she no longer believed it, she continued the story for Brigit. “He watches over us because he loves us and wants to watch you grow up.”
“Do angels get tired?”
“Maybe. I know little girls do.” She gave Brigit a kiss. “Get some sleep.”
She closed the door but let her hand rest on the handle. If Matt were there, he would know what to do. He would’ve been qualified by now, a doctor who could tell her if she was being too protective of her only daughter. But he wasn’t. Matt never even met Brigit. She’d been six months pregnant when he drowned. She’d almost lost Brigit out of grief.
; Since then, Brigit was the center of her world.
It had been enough. But she was restless like she wanted more even though she was unsure how to get it, or even what it was. She went downstairs, looking for a distraction. She wasn’t tired, and she didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts and fears. At the back of her mind she knew the police didn’t catch every criminal. They may never catch Flynn. If they didn’t, would she be safe?
Eliza was watching TV, curled up against Roan. Amanda hesitated in the doorway, then turned away. She couldn’t intrude.
In the kitchen, Sheriff looked up from under the table. The dog spent most of his time under the kitchen table, a habit from when Brigit was little and food had rained from the highchair. He’d made himself at home in Eliza’s house very quickly.
Her laptop lay dormant at the other end of the table. She flipped the screen up and restarted it. Almost everyone could be found on the Internet. Maybe she could find the something Dai was hiding, and a reason not to trust him. Something that would kill her interest.
She expected to have to do some digging, but all she had to do was type in his name. Dai King. Language expert, collector of rare books and translator. He’d been to outer Mongolia, Africa, Iceland, and other places to research local legends and lore. He was well traveled, well-educated, and notoriously reclusive.
At the end of an article there was a mention of his parents’ and sister’s death, but it didn’t say what had happened. Amanda bit her lip and stared at the image on the screen. Even on the computer, she could see his eyes held more secrets than the oceans and were twice as dangerous. There was more to him than a deceased family and a bunch of dead languages.
Her life was much simpler if she wasn’t distracted by handsome, dark-haired strangers. She should be walking away. She’d made promises to Matt. She had Brigit to care for. But she couldn’t ignore the flutter in her stomach when Dai had first looked at her in the church. She wanted to revel in the dizzy thrill and breathless rush of attraction, the tingle of a first kiss. There’d been no one since Matt, and until Dai appeared out of nowhere she’d been fine. Maybe she’d been alone too long. She thought Matt was the one, and if he were alive, he would’ve been. But he wasn’t. And she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life by herself. She wanted someone by her side. She pushed her fingers through her hair. What was she going to do?