by Shona Husk
She didn’t need any of the complications a relationship would bring. Hell, she wasn’t even sure she wanted a relationship. She just wanted…something. Amanda eased out a slow breath. Maybe she just needed to get laid. Laughter bubbled up; it had been so long she’d forgotten how to do it. Her smile faded. Casual sex wouldn’t fill the growing vacuum of emptiness.
***
Dai paused in the kitchen doorway. Amanda was laughing at something on the computer. Her long brown hair was loose for a change. She looked younger, more carefree. Then she looked up and saw him. Her eyes widened and the grin left her lips.
He had that effect on people, but usually only when he’d looked like a goblin. He almost checked his hands to make sure he was still human. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
She closed the laptop. “You didn’t. I was just…wasting time on the Internet. You know those videos of cats being silly.”
Dai nodded and caught sight of her bare feet tucked under the chair. He’d never seen her so…undressed, even though she was still in her work pants and shirt. It was as if some of her armor slipped and she was a little less walled up.
“You’re not into Roan’s Bollywood films?”
“Not my thing. I thought you must’ve been in bed already.”
“I went for a walk.”
“This late?”
He shrugged. “I like being outside and it’s peaceful.” He wasn’t afraid of being attacked. Nothing could be more terrifying than seeing the might of the Roman army descend on a small town, or a hundred goblins wanting blood. He was pretty sure he could handle any would-be thugs.
The silence stretched between them. He glanced at her. Amanda was watching him; she was waiting for him to ask her a question and continue the conversation.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
She sighed and the words poured out like she’d needed permission to let go. “A student—a patient—broke into my house today. The police suggested I stay somewhere else until they find him. If it were just me, it wouldn’t matter.”
Why would it matter less if it were just Amanda? Did her safety not matter? “Is he dangerous?”
She shook her head. Her hair shimmied across her shoulders, the ends resting on the swell of her breasts. He wanted to run his fingers through the silken stands and smooth them out. He forced himself to listen to words and not just watch the movement of her lips.
“He never used to be, but the police want to talk to him.” She touched her left hand. Her wedding band was missing.
Was her husband no longer at the front of her thoughts?
When her fingers found nothing she glanced down as if surprised. “He took my ring.”
Dai raised one brow. “Why would he want your ring?”
“It’s gold,” she said as if the metal meant nothing.
“Gold?” Gold was everything to a goblin, or even an ex-goblin. Just the word was enough to spark his interest. He sat at the table with her. For a second he thought he saw her eyes light up with the same spark he’d seen when he’d held her in his arms as they’d danced.
“He suffers from kleptomania, so he can’t help himself when he sees gold.”
How very goblin…yet obviously the kid was human. Over the centuries he learned plenty about the theory that goblins were once humans who had given in to greed.
“Why do the police want to see him?” Dai had a feeling he already knew if the kid was turning goblin.
“He’s becoming violent.”
“Did he hurt you?” If he had, Dai would hunt him down.
“No. I think he still trusts me.” She ran her teeth over her lower lip in a move both innocent and seductive. “He needs help. The longer he avoids the police, the worse it will be.”
Dai nodded but didn’t agree with her theory. He doubted the police could do anything to save the boy. A human with the compulsion to steal gold was just too great a coincidence. He’d have to see if the kid was on his way to losing his soul. Maybe it wasn’t too late to stop him from giving up everything for a chance at nothing.
“You’ll be safe here.”
“I can’t stay here forever.” She gave him a smile that barely turned up the corners of her lips.
His lips twitched in sympathy. “I know that feeling.”
She leaned forward as if she didn’t want to be overheard. “They’re a bit intense, aren’t they?”
“Enthusiastic, I’d say.”
If she knew what Roan had been through, she’d know he had time to make up for. Maybe he did too. Her hand was only inches from his on the table—long fingers and short nails. He’d already felt her delicate touch on his shoulder. Kissed those knuckles. But what would her hands feel like on his skin? He wanted to know—he wanted the touch of another after so long.
Amanda considered him for a moment. “You didn’t bring anyone to their wedding.”
“I didn’t have anyone to bring, but I danced with you.” Something he’d do again without hesitation. He liked the way she’d felt in his arms.
Amanda’s cheeks flushed pink.
“I meant you no embarrassment.”
She placed her hand over his and gave his fingers a soft squeeze. “It’s been a long time since I danced with any man.” This time there was no mistaking the heat in her eyes. Her hand lingered over his as if she was unwilling to let him go, but there was nothing demanding or harsh in her touch.
“I’m glad you made an exception for me.” He turned his hand over so their palms touched. The simple gesture was everything he’d forgotten could exist. Not every action was designed to injure. For a moment he let himself believe that no harm would come.
Her palm warmed against his, but there was more to the simple caress than she could see. A growing number of golden threads slipped from Amanda and into his skin. Without his willing it, his darker strands were meshing with her. When he was around her he couldn’t help it. His subconscious sought her out. It was unsettling considering he’d been in control for so long.
For a moment neither of them moved. She watched him, waiting. But he didn’t know what to do, or what she wanted from him. He had nothing to give her except the lies about who he was supposed to be. His fingers traced along the fate line of her palm as he reluctantly released her hand and stood.
“Till next time.” He smiled to conceal the jumble of thoughts and sharp-edged desire flooding his veins. He wanted her. He wanted her more than he should. More than he could have.
She returned his smile, her eyes dark and wide, but she didn’t stop him from leaving. Dai walked to his room and lay down. He let the lust run unchecked through his body, even though he knew it would get him nowhere. She was under the same roof, yet beyond his reach. With a sigh, he sat up and pulled out a law journal. He wouldn’t be doing much sleeping; there would be too many ghosts stalking his dreams, waiting to tear him apart.
***
He slept eventually, but Amanda had left for work by the time he awoke. Eliza invited him on the shopping trip to buy plants with her, Brigit, and Roan, but he declined. He was more interested in studying his magic’s effects on the tree in the park.
That morning the tree was dead. Dai walked around it, trying to understand what he’d done wrong. It had grown like spring and summer had happened all in one day, and been stable for several days afterward, yet it was dead. Totally dead with no chance of resurrection, like the weave of the tree somehow became tangled, and choked out its own life.
What had he missed?
He stared deeper into the center of the tree where the fibers clustered like arteries reaching into the heart of the earth, not caring if people stared. Wrapped around the thick central one was what looked like a rope. But the rope wasn’t part of the tree and it hadn’t been there the day before; he was sure of that. An icy warning rolled down his spine and the circle tattoos on his back prickled. An ancient spell of protection, they sensed the threat, even though he didn’t know what it was yet. But it was something
to do with the rope knotted around the center of the tree, cutting off its life.
Who would do that?
On the rope was a tag, and on the tag were two words.
Birch Trustees.
Dai blinked, cleared his vision of the magical sight, and stepped back as if shoved. They were warning him. He glanced around, but the park was almost deserted. A woman ran along the path toward him, but he ignored her. Birch had killed the tree. His mind spun as he tried to work out why.
Because he’d let the growth go out of control?
His gaze took in the curled brown leaves…or because he’d used magic and had healed the tree.
“Such a beautiful tree. Pity it had to die.” The woman in running gear stepped from around the other side of the tree.
She wasn’t there a moment before, she’d been over a hundred yards away.
He kept his face blank. “Everything dies.”
“Some things die sooner than they should.” She smiled, but there was no hint of warmth in it. “And all you can do is watch.”
Was that supposed to be a threat? The promise of death had seemed like a reward millennia ago. He didn’t fear death. He wanted to understand it, to know why parts of the weave ruptured, why others grew strong. And all that knowledge was locked up at Birch as they examined his books and scrolls. He needed the ones on healing specifically, so he could rip the talons out of his chest and erase the scars. And if he didn’t kill himself, he’d see what he could do for Brigit.
His heart slowed as he realized what the woman was implying. Not his death, but the death of those he knew. Amanda. Brigit. Roan and Eliza. By staying, he was placing them all in danger, unless he stopped using magic. But that would be like trying not to breathe.
“Will of the gods.” He shrugged like the death of the tree meant nothing and he hadn’t spent too long gazing at it trying to work out why it was dead.
“If it’s the will of the gods, man shouldn’t interfere.” Her gaze gave him a casual once-over that left him wanting to wash. Then she turned and jogged away.
Dai watched until she disappeared from view.
He frowned and crossed his arms. If Birch planned to kill him and Roan, they wouldn’t have furnished them with the papers they needed and the faked backgrounds to satisfy anyone who got too interested. They would’ve just killed them and pocketed the wealth and his books.
What stopped them?
His eyes narrowed as he watched a boat glide over the river. The spread of water was bigger than the one he’d grown up near. That was the answer. Roan was human; he was as he had been before the curse had been laid.
Dai, on the other hand, wasn’t, and he couldn’t unlearn what he knew, or quench the desire to learn more. Knowledge wasn’t something to be feared; it was something to be used and shared. And he wouldn’t be cowed.
He uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked back along the river to Eliza’s. Every so often he checked over his shoulder, but he didn’t see the woman again. He could defend himself with weapons and without—living in the Shadowlands had taught him more than just survival—but did he know enough magic to defend himself if magically attacked?
Probably not. That, again, was a different type of magic and a study he’d given up on after he realized it didn’t work in the Shadowlands.
He stopped in the driveway of the house Eliza had inherited from her parents. Roan had first been there nine years before when Eliza had summoned him to break up a party. They’d never been able to avoid a direct summons, an order compelling them from the Shadowlands to the Fixed Realm that put them in the service of whoever called.
There were obviously rules about magic use that had changed over the years. Where magic was once common, it barely existed. Was there a blanket no human shalt do magic rule? If so, why hadn’t Birch given him the list of what not to do? He shrugged. He probably would have ignored it anyway. What magic he did in his own house was his own business. If they gave him his books, he wouldn’t have had to experiment on trees.
He unlocked the front door and went inside expecting Roan, Eliza, and Brigit to be home, but the house was empty. They were all in the backyard. His brother grubbed around in the dirt like a peasant, while Eliza and Brigit sat in the sun sorting through small plants and seeds. A picture of domestic bliss. The sooner he got out of the house the better. He didn’t want to bring Birch to Roan’s door.
Yet he still had to tell his brother he was moving out. That was a conversation he wasn’t looking forward to, but there was no sense in delaying it. Birch was watching him and he was putting all their lives in danger.
“What are you doing?”
“Planting vegetables. Want to help?” Roan glanced over his shoulder.
No, he didn’t want to help. He’d spent more than enough time eking out an existence on the bony, half-starved animals of the Shadowlands that he had no desire to do so again. “They have shops for that.”
“I know, but the ground here grows things.” Roan picked up a fistful of dark soil. “We’re home.”
“We’re on the other side of the world.” Wales was a long way from Australia.
“In the Fixed Realm.” Roan dropped the soil and wiped his hand on his jeans.
Dai scanned the pale blue sky. He was so used to looking for a threat he couldn’t stop. He was still looking over his shoulder expecting his past to surface and swallow him without stopping to chew.
“You missed a call while you were out.”
Dai’s chest tightened. Had Birch come looking for him here already? Had they told Roan what was he was doing?
“Your keys are ready for collection.”
He let his muscles relax, but the tension lingered in his shoulders. “Great. I’ll pick them up and be out of your house tonight.”
Roan put his hand on Dai’s arm “You don’t have to go. Take time to get settled.”
Dai looked at the hand on his sleeve. A week ago that would have been enough to start the fight that would’ve let the curse take their souls. He glanced at Eliza and Brigit and bit his tongue. He was so used to spitting poison at his brother he was struggling to find a common ground they’d never shared even before the curse.
“I need my own space.” The trees around him rustled in the breeze. He suppressed a shiver as it stroked his cheek with icy fingers.
Roan pressed his lips together and said nothing. He didn’t need to. His hard expression said it all. Disapproval. Disappointment.
“You aren’t king anymore. You can’t order me to stay.”
“I’m still your brother.”
“Aren’t you sick of having me around?” After two thousand years of living together, fighting together, and hoarding together, Dai was ready for a break. For peace and quiet and the lack of demands on his time. He needed time to work out what to do.
“I know you’re still getting used to being back in the Fixed Realm, but you need to enjoy it.”
He would, but he’d do it his way and in his own time. It was, after all, his life. And he had control of his life for the first time since he was fifteen.
“I’ll enjoy it in my own house.”
“You have no furniture.”
“And?” Since when had they ever bothered about furniture? For years in the Shadowlands they’d only had what they could carry.
“That’s not the way it’s done.”
“I’ll borrow the air mattress.” He’d had less and survived.
“Where are you going to put your food? Where are you going to sit to eat?”
“The apartment came with appliances. I’ll sort out the rest as I go. I’ll be fine.” He didn’t need Roan as his protector or baby-sitter. He turned to leave. They could work well enough together when life was on the line, but the rest of the time they were too different to get on. No amount of time could change that. They might share blood, but that was where the similarities ended.
“You’re locking yourself away.”
“Ha
rdly.” Dai spun back around, aware they had an audience.
Brigit was watching, her gaze never quite landing on him the way it did on Roan. She put her hand on her chest as if she couldn’t breathe. Then she took a small tube out of her back and put it to her mouth. Eliza was talking to her and Brigit was nodding.
Dai lowered his voice as if it was the argument that had upset the child’s lungs. “An apartment in the middle of the city isn’t isolated.”
Roan’s lips thinned as if he wanted to press the point. “You’re always welcome here,” he said instead.
“I know.” But he didn’t know how to tell Roan about the magic, or what was happening with Birch. It was something only he could deal with because if he told Roan, Roan would jump to his aid, and his brother had more to risk than his own life now. He had Eliza.
“I’m worried about you.” Roan kept his voice soft so Eliza and Brigit wouldn’t overhear. “How much of the Shadowlands have you brought with you?”
“I’m fine.” Dai forced what he hoped was an easy smile. “Just getting used to day and night again.”
He wished it were that simple. Daytime was all right. Nighttime was filled with a darkness he couldn’t fight. Nightmares of his own making. It was hard to fight himself and win. But he’d be damned before he’d forgive and forget.
Roan didn’t look convinced. His eyebrows had that pinched look like he really wanted to say something but didn’t want the argument that would follow, as if they were still dancing around the curse and trying to avoid a fight that would make them surrender their souls and become goblin.
“It’ll all work out fine. Have faith.”
Dai wanted to believe him, but what was wrong with him was harder to break than a curse. The scars didn’t wash away as easily as the dust of the Shadowlands. But it wasn’t just that. Eliza knew who Roan really was; she’d seen goblins, the caves, and the gold. She’d saved Dai from fading and fighting Anfri to the death by offering her gold earring.