by Dannika Dark
Ella. Ella Freund. Even her thoughts were shaky.
It was a strange sensation, as if they were sharing the same room in another realm. There were moments she could hear his breath and even see faint images fluttering through his mind.
Do you know why I’m here?
She shook her head.
Your Creator seems to think you’re a bit of a problem child and in need of training. I’ll pass along the word that you’re quite skilled with wet willies.
She suppressed a smile. I can’t believe this is possible.
He squeezed her hand. In all my years, I’ve never heard of a Mage with this ability. There are mentalists who can do something similar, but nothing that’s initiated by touch, and definitely not with this much clarity and control. Perhaps it has something to do with my… his mental voice trailed off in a mutter.
Ella frowned. Your what?
When he looked away evasively, she heard a faint whisper. He was concealing his mind, seeking a way to separate thoughts directed toward her from all the other stuff floating around in his head.
Did she send you to train me? Ella asked. I guess that’s a good sign. I kept wondering why she hadn’t sentenced me to death by now.
Simon’s eyes flashed up to hers. I wouldn’t put it past her, so it’s in your best interest to prove you’re a capable Learner. Tell me why I’m here. What’s so incompetent about your training?
I’m not incompetent!
She pulled away so he couldn’t eavesdrop on all the profanities that were swirling around in her head. He pinched his chin and examined the floor as if he were solving a mystery. The real mystery was why Hannah would send someone like him to evaluate her.
Simon didn’t dress like the other immortals. While he wasn’t wearing leather pants today, his jeans had two holes, and his shirt was threadbare. Ella was five foot six on a good day, and this guy was over six feet tall. Lean muscle and dexterous hands from what she could tell. She analyzed everything about him, including the bulge near his ankle that tipped her off he had a dagger strapped to his leg. She felt swallowed up by his presence. If Hannah had sent him to train her, then he was probably one of the best.
But not skilled enough to thwart off an attack by a wet willy.
When he took her hand, she noticed how pale her skin looked against his, and he wasn’t all that tan. Ella didn’t polish her nails or wear perfume; how plain he must have thought her compared to other women. She shielded her innermost thoughts, building a wall around them so that he couldn’t get in.
I remember you, he said. You were the one who gave my queen a run for her money on the night of the bombing.
The memory was sobering. That’s when I lost my hearing. My Creator doesn’t communicate with me at all. She hides me away, and I’m not allowed to leave the property. I come down here and practice what she taught me, but I don’t learn anything new anymore. I’ve been on my own for a long time.
Not anymore.
A thrill moved through her body—the exhilarating sense of freedom in something as basic as conversation.
Simon pulled her to her feet and looked about the room. You’ll never learn what you need to know down here. Tell you what, let’s have a match and you show me everything you’ve got. Don’t hold back, because I don’t fight like that, so don’t expect me to go easy on you. Nothing personal, love.
She threw him a confident smile. Take your best shot.
Chapter 6
Simon reached the top of the stairs and strolled through a billiard room with red felt tables. He sensed Hannah’s energy and followed the prickly trail until he found her in the adjacent room. Silver-and-white wallpaper shimmered from the light coming in through the tall windows to his right. Straight ahead, a white chaise obscured the lower half of a window. Beside it, a table adorned with those godforsaken snow globes. A short bookshelf on the right provided the only color in the room from the weathered spines of the books that filled it. He’d seen a few of them in the house and wondered if she’d ever opened a single one.
Hannah looked like a statue lying on the chaise. She wore a loose white dress and what appeared to be slippers on her feet, but formfitting like what ballet dancers wore.
“And what is the damage?” she asked, not making eye contact as she continued filing her nails.
Simon rocked on his heels. “As riveting as this experience was, I’m unable to make a fair assessment without leaving the premises.”
She swung her feet onto the floor, ready to protest, but Simon kept talking.
“Ella is a capable fighter, as you can see by my busted lip and black eye. She’s a clever girl,” he said, deciding to conceal Ella’s gift for now. “She seems to understand that her weakness is hindering her progress, so you needn’t worry about her soiling your reputation. I need to see how she does with a crowd. If you want to know how well she can fight, then I must take her to a Breed club. The juicers will size her up the moment we arrive. I prefer training my pupils on realistic surfaces with sticks, rocks, cars, cliffs, and other objects. Especially when it’s rainy, windy, or sand is blowing in their eyes. This is the real and cruel world, so fighting in an empty room is not going to make her a better Learner.”
Hannah lazily stretched her arms over the back of the chair, her blue eyes flickering with sporadic flashes of ancient light. “Regarding compensation, should my Learner die on one of your expeditions, you will return all payment and be in my debt five times over,” she finished in a voice like sandpaper. “That means you will honor me five favors of any magnitude. Ella is my progeny and might be the last, so that makes her invaluable.”
That bleeding wench! She just would. It was bad enough to be in someone’s debt once, but fivefold? Unimaginable. Hannah would stretch those out over centuries.
But Simon looked at Ella as a challenge, and besides that, he needed some income.
“Agreed,” he bit out. “Let’s get one thing straight: I have full authority to train her as I see fit. You will not question our whereabouts or my methods.”
“Fine,” she said tersely, filing the daggers that were the tips of her fingers.
Simon lifted his right eyebrow. “We’ll be back later.”
“Wait a second!” Hannah shot up to her feet, and her long white gown whirled dramatically. “I didn’t say right this moment.”
“Nor did you say in fifteen years. Training starts immediately. The Learner is upstairs changing into appropriate attire. My time is not to be squandered, so if we have an agreement, it begins now. The sooner I can complete this task and be done with you, the better.”
“And her attire better be appropriate,” she added, crossing the room with her metal nail file pointed at him. When she stopped an inch short, she placed the sharp tip at the base of his throat. “I have dress code requirements and standards of etiquette for my Learner that you will adhere to. Part of her training will not involve lowering to your standards.” Her eyes dragged down to his attire. “I will not allow you to undo what I have spent years teaching her.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Hannah. You’re getting all goosenipply, and that’s an image I’m going to have to burn from my retinas.”
Her eyes went dramatically wide, and she covered her chest.
Simon turned away and headed toward the door.
“I want her back before dark,” she said. “We have an agreement, but I’ll not have her out at undignified hours for a lady. Her reputation is pristine, and it shall remain that way.”
He wondered if Hannah knew her Learner had slept with a prat right under her nose. Clearly not, or she wouldn’t think her Learner so pristine. She probably made Ella wear a chastity belt.
“Spare me the lecture, Hannah. Everyone knows the manner in which you raise your Learners. I’m not feeling particularly randy this evening, so you have nothing to worry about.”
“I want your phone number.”
“Stand in line.”
“I’m serious, Mr. Hunt.”
/> He glanced over his shoulder and paused at the door. “So in the middle of a fight, our attacker can be greeted by your delightful ringtone, which will momentarily distract me? Afraid not. My terms or we have no deal.”
“You’ll sign the contract this evening,” she said in a tone that invited no argument.
Simon waved a hand and left the room. As he moved through the hall, he checked his phone messages and saw that Justus had sent him an invite to meet him at the Red Door, a local Breed club they frequented. He must have found information on this Learner situation. Simon didn’t worry about bringing Ella along since she couldn’t read lips and wouldn’t understand what they were saying. He needed facts, and even after their communication breakthrough, she’d never tell him the sodding truth. Women were evasive about their life and enjoyed torturing men with vague explanations. Either that or they’d chat your ears off about feelings.
One way or another, he was going to find out the truth.
Simon steered the Maserati around the corner, wondering if his wheels impressed the young woman sitting to his right. The car was sleek, fast, and expensive—even if it had a nonexistent backseat.
“Why the bloody hell would I want to impress one of Hannah’s minions?” he muttered aloud.
Simon changed the song and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, flicking a glance at her clothes. She’d chosen a long-sleeved dress that reached her ankles—stretchy fabric the color of lead. She wasn’t Simon’s type, but he couldn’t deny the alluring mystery of what lay beneath all that drapery. Her breasts were only a mouthful, and she had delicate hands with slender fingers. The most striking thing about her was the hair—lock after lock, braided together in an intricate manner. His mind boggled at what it must look like unbound.
He watched as she ran her fingers along the door and then the dash. She must have felt the vibration from the speakers, so he cranked up his stereo. Her eyes brightened, and a smile touched her lips.
She immediately reached for his hand. Who’s singing?
Ella looked like the kind of girl who listened to opera.
I’m afraid you wouldn’t know anything about an old band called Audioslave, he replied in thought.
I miss music, she said wistfully. I can remember the words, but it’s so hard to get the melody right. The memory of music is fading away.
She gazed out the window, her expression melancholy. Without a second thought, he squeezed her hand and sang “Like a Stone” in his head.
Her grip tightened, and she drew closer. Simon couldn’t help but notice what a lovely mouth she had. Full lips, soft and pale pink—just enough color to make them stand out as if begging to be kissed. He’d never thought he could find a woman without a speck of makeup so bloody attractive. Her skin was fresh and pale, and the faded smatter of freckles told him she rarely went outside anymore. He would have continued staring had he not been driving a death machine, so he concentrated on the song and watched her frown turn into a smile.
Attagirl, he thought privately to himself.
While he was parking outside the Red Door, a message came up on his phone. Justus was running late and couldn’t find someone he trusted to watch Rose. Since the lot of them lived in the same building, babysitting worked out exceptionally well. Except for the last time when he’d left her in Levi’s care and she’d gotten her hands on a box of permanent markers. He had a conniption when he came home and Rose’s fingers were the same color as his black leather sofa.
With a curt nod, the doorman granted them access. Simon gripped Ella’s wrist and kept her close, feeling pulses of anxiety and excitement in her energy. His gift didn’t come with a name that Thermals or Charmers had, but in his mind, he referred to himself as a Feeler. Naturally, Simon got a kick out of the word since he was a touchy-feely kind of chap to begin with. Ella’s energy spiked when they passed a Vampire, and he guessed by her sensory overload that she hadn’t been out in a long time. Several pairs of eyes followed them as they moved through the main room.
As far as Breed clubs went, the Red Door was upscale. At night, humans lined up outside, hoping the doorman would wave them in. The only ones who ever got inside were Breed. The square tables in the main room were pretty simple, but the farther back you went, the more luxurious the seating. Most clubs like this one had soundproof rooms in the back for private parties.
Simon headed toward the booths near the back surrounded by tall glass panels. The wooden tables danced with light from candles encased in crackled red glass. He strode toward a booth and scooted into the red seat. The benefit of the raised panels was that they not only blocked out some of the noise, but customers could have a private conversation without whispering. Nothing was more obnoxious than nosy wankers who liked eavesdropping on people sitting directly behind them.
A familiar brunette waitress sauntered toward their table.
Davina winked. “Well, hey there, Simon. It’s not your usual time. What can I get for you two?”
“The usual,” he said, noticing her red bra peeking through the opening of her blouse.
“Gin and tonic it is. And for you?” The waitress reluctantly looked at Simon’s companion.
Ella quickly held up two fingers to signal she would have what Simon was having—a smart move to avoid speaking. But what peeved Simon was that Ella had no idea what kind of drink she was ordering since she couldn’t follow the conversation. She’d become quite clever at concealing her secret, but it came with a price.
“Why don’t you get something fruity this time,” he said, taking her hand and lifting it to his mouth where he placed a petal-soft kiss to her knuckles.
He entered her mind. That was a creative move, but I’m changing your order. What’ll you have?
Lemonade, she replied.
Just lemonade? he asked in an irritated tone. Live a little.
Are you going to order for me or can I order for myself? Just because you can speak doesn’t mean you can speak for me.
My, isn’t the Learner feeling rebellious all of a sudden, he replied.
Simon let go of Ella’s hand and smiled at Davina. “Why don’t you bring her something cool and refreshing like lemonade. I’m afraid I worked her a little hard last evening and she needs to replenish all her lost fluids.” He waggled his brows and the waitress spun around, but not before he caught the spike of jealousy in her energy.
Ella snatched his hand. What did you say to her? As much as I can see you’re enjoying this, don’t make a fool out of me.
Simon had a comeback, but something made him retract his hand and look away. It was empathy. She’d lived in solitude for the past few years—severed from all contact by a Creator who rejected her. She must have wandered the halls of that mansion like a ghost, seen but never heard.
Chains aren’t the only shackles that bind a prisoner.
Forty-five minutes later, Simon had reached his alcohol limit. Ella nursed her second lemonade, closely examining everyone around them. They hadn’t communicated much at all except for when she asked him why he was still wearing his sunglasses. In Simon’s line of work, he couldn’t be too careful in Breed clubs. Glance at a Vampire the wrong way and he might steal your secrets.
A Sensor tugged a man into a hall, and they performed a sensory exchange. The man’s chest glowed red as the Sensor transferred an emotion into him, which looked erotic by the expression on his face. Ella seemed fascinated, as if she’d never been around other Breeds outside of Hannah’s private parties. He was certain she’d received all the preliminary lessons on Breed history, but a book couldn’t teach you half the things you learned on the streets.
“Simon, you didn’t mention a guest.” Justus eased up to the table, looking dapper in a pair of designer jeans and a brown T-shirt that looked painted on.
Simon had never understood how a man could find so much enjoyment in the gym, but Justus loved his body. He shaved his head to a fine stubble so all you noticed were his crisp blue eyes boring a hole into your immortal
soul.
“This is Ella.”
Justus bowed and then arched his brow at Simon. “May I speak with you privately?”
“You are. She’s deaf. Take a load off.”
Justus looked between them. Instead of sitting in the booth, he dragged a chair to the end of the table and nodded at Ella before turning his attention to Simon. “Are you sure she can’t hear?”
“If she can, then this conversation is about to get awkward. So what did you find out?”
Justus did a quick scan of the bar, looking at everyone sitting within proximity. Simon had already done the check several times, so he removed his sunglasses to put Justus at ease. Vamps could be nosy bastards, but from what Simon knew, most of them tuned out background noise since hearing everyone’s conversations could drive a man to madness.
Ella adjusted a pin in her hair while noticing a young man at the bar. When Justus thought she looked disinterested enough, he began.
“We all know that Creators on the Council don’t have to follow protocol when it comes to getting a candidate approved by the Mageri. Outside of her living with Hannah, I can’t find a trace of her living in our world as a trusted human. It’s as if Hannah plucked her from thin air.”
Simon’s heart sped up. He lifted his glass to his lips, pretending to take a drink. He could feel Ella’s eyes on him and feared she might be able to pick up a few words. “So where does she come from?” he said into the glass.
“There is no trace of her origin. Novis is the keeper of the records, and I have access at the moment because of a case I’m working on. If she went through the official ceremony and the Council measured her gifts, the file doesn’t exist. Hannah is the only other person who would have had access to the records. Perhaps she wants to bury this Learner’s information for a reason.”
Ella stood up and pointed at the bathroom. Simon nodded, and she hurried out of the booth.
Justus watched her for a moment and then leaned forward, brushing his hand across the tattoos on his right arm. “What is this all about?”