by Linsey Hall
“Yeah. She was.” I should be far more injured than this. Dead, even. Though I did feel vaguely disgusting. “But I could use a shower.”
Roarke nodded and stood, wincing.
“You should have let Lofta tend to you.”
“She was tapped out. Are you hungry?”
“Famished.”
He strode to the door, then turned back. “Del? I’m glad you’re all right.”
I blinked stupidly. His words were one thing, but his tone…
So grateful. He really cared that I was all right. He’d taken care of me before himself, letting the healer use up all her magic healing my wounds instead of his. And he’d sat by my bedside this entire time.
The gruff Warden of the Underworld was hell of a lot kinder than I’d thought.
Roarke’s shower turned out to be even more amazing than the bedroom. It was a massive slate-tiled thing with the biggest showerhead I’d ever seen. It looked and felt like an actual waterfall. There was even a window overlooking the river and forest, like I was a part of nature.
This guy showered in the forest like a freaking woodland nymph. Albeit a large, scary woodland nymph.
Once I’d cleared some of the cobwebs from my mind, I called upon my dragon sense. What had happened to that demon when the ghostly dragon had carried him off?
And had it actually been a dragon? It sounded crazy. Real dragons had been gone for centuries. And that hadn’t even looked like a real one. It’d been transparent. And blue. Like I was when in my Phantom form.
Too weird.
When I finally climbed out of the magic shower, my muscles felt slightly better. I still couldn’t run, but at least I was walking. I spent a minute standing in front of the mirror, searching myself for signs of transition, but found none, thankfully. The potion was still working.
I found a duffle bag on the bed. My duffle bag. I frowned at the familiar sight, then hurried to it and unzipped it.
Inside were my favorite T-shirts, jeans, leather jacket, pants, PJs, and even my underwear with polar bears on them. My lucky pair. There was a note on the top. I pulled it out and unfolded it.
I sent someone to pick up your stuff. Your friend Claire packed it. -Roarke
Awesome. I pulled out my favorite penguin PJs and lucky underwear, then tugged them all on. Once I was fully swaddled in Arctic-themed flannel, I felt a heck of a lot better. There was just something about wearing your own clothes after being attacked by a murderous Ubilaz demon that felt great.
A glance at the clock showed that it was now 7:00 p.m. Good. I needed another full night’s sleep.
My stomach growled.
“Shut up, you,” I muttered.
I followed the sound of music out of the room and down the hallway. The house wasn’t huge—just four bedrooms on the top floor—but everything was top-notch. Nosiness was a major failing of mine, and now that I had a chance to snoop around the house that belonged to the Warden of the Underworld, I wasn’t going to miss it.
Each bedroom was decorated beautifully, complete with its own fireplace and bathroom. A balcony overlooked the river and another interior one overlooked the living room where the ceiling soared high overhead, punctuated by skylights. The room below was one of the most beautiful I’d ever seen, a comfortable space that screamed Expensive Ski Lodge, just like my bedroom had. The fireplace was huge and the TV bigger.
The Warden might not have a huge place, but it was nice. Then again, he also owned a castle in the Underworld, so maybe he wanted to feel like a normal dude on Earth.
I made my way down the wide wooden staircase and easily found the kitchen by following the sound of the Allman Brothers. So he liked good music. I didn’t want to like that about him, but I did. Of course. Because I was an idiot easily swayed by my hormones.
The kitchen was a large space with sleek wooden cabinets, black granite, and top-of-the-line appliances. I didn’t actually know how to identify top-of-the-line appliances, but they looked big and expensive, which I figured qualified. There was a breakfast nook on the other side of the kitchen. Windows surrounded it, and I’d have bet big money that they overlooked the river.
Roarke was just pulling something out of the oven as I entered. He’d changed into a clean T-shirt, and it looked like his wounds had stopped bleeding.
“I thought you didn’t like frozen pizza,” I said.
“I was occupied.”
Occupied sitting at my bedside. Right. “Looks great.”
“I think it has potential.” He pointed to the counter. “Help yourself. There’s no boxed wine, but I do have a bottle of red.”
“Hey, no need for snark. I happen to like boxed wine. It’s both convenient and portable. No breakage. Three bottles for the price of one.”
“I noticed you liked it. You looked pretty happy about it when you had it at your place.”
“I was.” I went to the counter and found two coffee mugs sitting by the bottle of expensive wine. I held them up. “You like drinking wine out of coffee mugs too?”
“Sure.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Honestly, I don’t care how I drink it. But you like coffee mugs.”
“Maybe I don’t have any wine glasses.”
“You do.”
“Snoop!”
“Guilty.” He grinned and my heart flopped around in my chest.
I couldn’t exactly yell at him, though. He’d snooped while cooking me dinner. Probably because he needed cooking tools or whatever. As long as he stayed out of my bedroom, I didn’t care. And I had just snooped around his place, so it looked like we were both nosy.
“Well, thanks for the wine.” I poured myself a mug and made my way to the table, unable to stand for much longer.
Roarke set a plate on the table in front of me. It held half a pizza. His plate held the other half.
“That looks awesome.” I took a big bite. While I chewed, memories of the fight back at Glastonbury flashed in my mind. What had that dragon been? And where had it taken the Ubilaz demon?
I reached out with my dragon sense to find the demon. But I couldn’t find anything. No tug, no sense of its location.
What the hell?
A cold sweat broke out on my skin. “The Ubilaz demon might be dead.”
Oh, fates. What did that mean for me if I couldn’t get its blood for the antidote?
Roarke’s brow creased. “It’s not dead. I’d know if it had returned to the Underworld.”
Hope flared. “What do you mean?”
“When demons reappear in their Underworld, my staff knows. I asked, but they said he hasn’t arrived.”
I set the slice of pizza down. “So he’s definitely still on Earth?”
“Yeah. But you can’t find him?”
I shook my head. “No. That’s weird. He’s blocked from my sight.”
“What can do something like that?”
“Um… A concealment charm, for one.” For years, I’d worn one to protect myself from the Monster who lurked in my past. Ever since we’d escaped from him at fifteen, he’d hunted me and my deirfiúr. He was gone now, killed by Cass, but the charms had hidden us from his seer’s vision for years. Concealment charms were rare and hard to come by, though.
The memory of the demon yanking the golden pendant off the neck of the skeleton flashed in my mind.
“You didn’t see a golden charm or necklace in that pit at Glastonbury, did you?” I asked.
“No. There was nothing there other than the sarcophagus.”
“Then that’s what the demon was after. Before he was taken away, he grabbed a necklace off the skeleton.”
“But you can’t sense him.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t find him other ways.” I picked up my pizza, which was now cold, and chowed down as my mind raced. I replayed the scene in the crypt. Finally, something stood out. “Who do you think Gwenhwyfar was?”
“Was that the name on the sarcophagus?”
“Yeah.”
<
br /> Roarke pulled a sleek cell phone out of his pocket, fiddled with it for a moment, then looked up. “Nothing on Google.”
A man after my own heart. “We can go ask Dr. Garriso tomorrow. He’s a historian at the Museum for Magical History. He knows just about everything, and if he doesn’t, he’s got a book that will have the answer.”
I might have some of this info in the books in my trove, but I didn’t even know how to start searching for the name Gwenhwyfar. I needed a card catalogue in my library, or something. Between the demon hunting and all the rest, my life was too busy to properly curate my collection. I knew where some things were, like demon books, but obscure history was more difficult to find.
“So we’re changing tactics,” Roarke said. “Using books to find the demon.”
I shrugged. “Technically, I’ve been using books since the beginning. Most historical mysteries like this can be solved with books.”
Roarke nodded. “Fair enough. It’s the best we’ve got.”
Chapter Ten
I finished eating as quickly as I could, then stood. Just that little motion made my muscles ache and my head spin.
“You okay?” Roarke asked.
I nodded slowly. “Yeah, just recovering. A good night’s sleep will do it. Thanks for getting the healer, by the way.”
“Not a problem.”
“Well, I’m lucky.”
Those wounds could have killed me. Lofta’s magic was the only thing that had stood between me and a quick return to the Underworld. What would have happened at that point was anyone’s guess. And frankly, I didn’t want to know.
“I’m going to call Dr. Garriso and set up a meeting for tomorrow morning. Once we know what Gwenhwyfar is, we’ll find the demon.” I hoped.
Roarke nodded.
I stood there awkwardly for a moment before grabbing my plate and putting it in the sink, then hurried from the room. It didn’t take me long to reach my bedroom, though I wanted to poke around his place more. I resisted and felt like a saint for doing so.
A quick scan of the bedroom revealed my phone plugged into the wall near the bed. Roarke’s thoughtfulness made me grin. I hurried to it and called Dr. Garriso, arranging to meet him at eight. I hung up and put the phone back on the bedside table, then looked at the bed.
I was exhausted and achy, but restlessness stole through my muscles. The sound of rushing water outside the windows caught my ears. There’d been a balcony off the hallway, I recalled. I wanted to see the river. And maybe I could even see the portal from here. It was fixed, right?
Before I could second-guess myself, I grabbed my jacket from the duffle bag and headed out. By the time I made it outside to the balcony, the moon had risen high in the sky. I made my way across the wide expanse of wooden deck and leaned on the railing.
The river rushed below, glittering in the light of the full moon. Something rustled in the bushes across the water, and I stiffened. When a deer poked its head out from behind a bush, my muscles relaxed. Normally I could hold my own in a fight, but my injuries were slowing me down. I didn’t like being in this weakened state.
But nothing was going to get me while I was at the house belonging to the Warden of the Underworld. Not only was his title scary as hell—pun intended—I’d seen him in a fight. No one would mess with him on his own territory.
When the door opened behind me, I almost jumped out of my skin.
“Can’t sleep?” Roarke asked from behind me.
I turned. He was wearing the same clothes he had been, but this time, he held my sword in his hand. My palm itched to yank it from him.
“What are you doing with that?” I asked.
“I thought you should have it back.” His gaze was grave. “I’m sorry I took it from you. If you’d had your own weapon, you might have stood a better chance against the Ubilaz demon.”
An image of the relief and happiness on his face when I’d woken from my wound-induced slumber flashed in front of my vision.
“Thanks.” I reached out for it, and he handed it over. My hand brushed against his and sent my heart rocketing through my chest.
His gaze lingered on mine—briefly—before he looked away.
I tried to focus on the smooth, familiar grip of my sword instead of on the memory of his touch. In truth, the feel of my sword made my heart swell.
Roarke joined me at the railing, leaning his elbows against it and looking down into the water below.
“That’s the blade you use when you hunt demons, then?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Why that job?”
“Why do you care?”
He shrugged, tilting his head until his dark gaze met mine. “I’m interested.”
In me? Whew. I didn’t know what to do with that information, so I packed it away. I didn’t necessarily want him to be interested, but there was no harm in sharing the basics.
I shrugged. “I’m good at it. And it pays well.”
“Did you train with the sword for long? You’re talented with it.”
I leaned against the railing, needing to take some weight off my aching muscles. “That’s the weird thing. I didn’t have to train a lot. At least, not that I remember.”
“What do you mean?”
I glanced up at the stars, my mind drifting back to the first time I’d seen them. “When I was fifteen, I woke in a field with no memory. I was with Cass and Nix. We didn’t even remember our names. I can’t remember the first fifteen years of my life. But I’m a natural with a sword. Maybe because I practiced when I was a child. I don’t know.”
Why was I telling him all this? Maybe because it felt good to confide in someone other than my deirfiúr. I’d always found it unsettling that I was so good with a sword. What kind of childhood had I had that I didn’t remember training with weapons?
And maybe if he knew me better, he’d feel guilty about taking me back to the Underworld.
“What the hell happened to you that you woke as a child alone in a field?” Anger rang clear in his voice.
“Um, we’d been held prisoner by a sociopath. I don’t have any memories of it, but Cass does.”
“Why? And where is he?” Roarke growled.
“Dead.” I grinned. “Cass killed the bastard.”
As for why he’d held us prisoner, that was info I wouldn’t be sharing. The Monster from our past had wanted us because we were FireSouls. He’d planned to use our talents for his own benefit. But there was no way I’d reveal that side of my nature to Roarke. A rule follower like him would have a hard time not turning me in to the Order of the Magica.
I shivered at the thought. Roarke was part demon. He’d turned his brother over to the law. I had to keep these things in mind. Constant vigilance through my life had kept me safe. Forgetting what Roarke really was—what he was really like—would do me no favors.
“Do you know anything about me other than my last name?” I asked. “And is my first name really Delphine?”
“Yes. It’s Delphine. But you said you didn’t know your own name.”
“I didn’t. But maybe that’s what made me choose the constellation Delphinus for my name. Deep down, I recognized it.” The thought made my heart ache for something I couldn’t even recognize. “But what about my last name? Do you know any more?”
“No. I knew only your name and how to find you.”
“I thought you tracked me by the blood I left behind.”
“I did.”
Was he lying? Before I could ask, he said, “What did you do after you woke in the field?”
“Stayed on the run. Eventually we raised enough money for concealment charms to hide us from the Monster’s seers who sought our location. Then we opened Ancient Magic.” With our skills for finding treasure, it was the only way we’d known to make a living. “The demon hunting for the Order was just a gig on the side to make more money. But with Ancient Magic doing better, I can now do more treasure hunting.”
“You lead an interesting
life, Del Bellator.”
“You’re not too shabby yourself.”
He shrugged. “It’s a job.”
I laughed. “Some job.”
“It keeps things in line.”
“Which you do like.” And that was what I was afraid of. Staying in line probably meant taking me back to the Underworld.
After leaving Roarke on the porch, I slept like a log. By the time I woke at seven the next morning, all my aches and pains were gone. If I hadn’t woken in Roarke’s spare bedroom, there’d have been no way to tell I’d almost been killed by the Ubilaz demon.
“There’s coffee in the kitchen!” Roarke yelled through the door. “We’ll leave in ten.”
“All right!” I showered quickly, regretting not waking early enough to spend more time in his enchanted forest shower, then pulled on my black leathers.
When I took my sword off the dresser, I couldn’t help but grin. Having it again felt so danged good. I sheathed it at my back and then headed down the stairs. The kitchen was lit by the warm glow of the rising sun, and I got a fairly big stab of kitchen envy.
Coffee was sitting on the counter, along with a travel mug, so I grabbed a quick cup and headed out to the driveway. The morning was brisk and chilly as fall leaves tumbled off the trees.
Roarke, dressed in a dark blue sweater, leaned against his car, holding his own cup and looking like he fit into this rustic-chic mountain life so easily. No one would guess that the Warden of the Underworld owned a matching pair of travel coffee mugs or looked so good in a sweater. Mostly they’d just imagine his Were-demon side.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yep.” We climbed into the car, and I almost groaned at how cozy the pre-warmed interior was. “You’re not a big fan of being late, are you?”
“Nope.” He backed the car out of the drive.
“You know where the Museum of Magical History is located?” I asked.
“Yeah. Big building near the old library, right?”
“Exactly.” But it was weird he’d know so well. “How often are you in Magic’s Bend? I never see you around.” And I’d have noticed a guy like him
“Not often, honestly. A housekeeper does my shopping in town, and I know where the museum is but only because I looked it up on my phone. I keep to myself mostly. And my colleagues are demons, so… I’m not around other supernaturals much.”