by Lexi Ostrow
Abruptly, Alcott shoved her back upright, destroying whatever spell work type of connection his embrace had created. “You would have appeared to be floating . . . in midair,” he explained, his voice soft and devoid of the anger it had held moments before.
Clearing her throat, she rummaged through her bag and grabbed her phone, putting it to her ear. “Thank you.” The words were softly spoken, but the smile on his face meant he’d heard them. “That was a very clever idea.” She turned and began to walk away from the building.
“I admit that it was my first Word Speaker’s, not mine.” The smallest trace of sadness could be heard in the words.
“Will you tell me about her?” She knew that a kiss between them literally did not make them closer, but she needed to know what had happened, but she needed to know why he was so against what was supposed to be integral to their partnership.
“As I have previously stated, earlier this day even, there is nothing to be learned from knowing my past. I am not seeking yours, so you have no need to seek mine. What occurred in your room,” he paused as if trying to find the words to not insult her, “was an enjoyable lack of self-control on my part. I retained my freedom based on the promise that I would not mess up any future chance to guard a warrior. Indulging in a relationship that is purely physical will do just that.”
He reached out and gently took hold of her wrist. The action surprised her, and she smashed her toe into one of the many cracks that lined Royal Street, barely recovering in time to make certain it didn’t look like an invisible force was tugging her backward. Even in New Orleans, that would draw attention.
Blowing out a breath, she turned left onto Pirates Alley, walking hastily to reach Jackson Square, where she could sit on a bench and not be prone to any more acts of out of character clumsiness.
“Kellie, I hope I’m not coming across crass.”
“You are coming across as something all right. But trust me, I have no intention of telling you what to do. You’ve done this before, and while I would fucking love to know why there was a before and why you’re not with that person, I will just have to learn to deal with it if it holds no relevance to our situation. Being nosey is not my style.”
She nodded politely to Madam Alexia, the psychic who often setup across from Café Pontalba, and walked through the open gates to the center of the square. She could feel the irritation rolling off her and took three deep breaths to try to ground herself. Anger didn’t do anyone a lick of good.
Alcott stepped in front of her, blocking out the strong rays of the sun the moment she sat on a warm wrought-iron bench. There was a look of something on his face that Kellie couldn’t place, but it was very close to the desire she’d seen scorching in them during their kiss.
“I desire you, Kellie. I think there is no point in trying to deny that. You’ve felt my desire, as I have felt yours. I simply want to make certain that there are more than physical connections in place. I do not believe that a wanton desire to fuck you is going to make me wish to die protecting you.
“Knowing you, learning what makes you smile and what brings tears to your eyes, that is, what will fuel me to save you. I want the passion, but I see no reason to give into it simply because it’s a part of what we are. Let us be who we are first, the rest will follow.” His eyes flashed a darker shade of blue, and his voice lowered. “I promise.”
She scarcely realized she had held her breath while he spoke. Only the deep way she took her next breath told her she’d been doing it. His eyes were locked on hers, and she knew anyone that saw her would think she was crazy. Her hands trembled at the promise in his words, in his eyes, and she nearly dropped the phone. The way he could undo her frustration or deepen her desire for him with a few small words was infuriating.
“Does this connection ever make me want to not trust you? To not take comfort in your every word and think of it as some sort of dogma to hold onto?”
Alcott’s snort was clearly one of amusement, not annoyance. He moved to sit beside her on the bench. She shifted to lean her back against the warm metal arm and put her feet up on the bench so she could face him without seeming strange.
“I can assure you, it’s one of the more . . . annoying elements of your powers. We will always feel a need to be with one another. There will always be a companionship and understanding between us. As we grow as a team, it will seem more natural and less as if someone else is in control of your emotions.”
She screwed her face up at him. “It’s eerie how you can know what I’m experiencing, though I suppose it makes perfect sense.” She smiled at him without thinking and continued. “I promise to be as understanding as I can. But your world isn’t flipped upside down and inside out right now, mine is. Yours might have been years ago, but this time it’s just me learning all this. I’ll be as patient as I can on things that aren’t truly my business so long as you promise to protect me from any ridiculous made-up character that come for me while we form some sort of relationship.”
The request sounded outlandish, and she cringed at having spoken it in such a public place. Thankfully, anyone standing within in the center of the square was too busy snapping pictures of Andrew Jackson or the church.
“I promise you, Kellie, I will protect you. My sole purpose is to see to it that you are safe. I know I said I was more apt to die for you if I knew you, which is true, but in the end, seeing that good is protected in this war is my goal. I spent two years training for it, and nothing will hurt you while we are partnered.” There wasn’t determination in his words, so much as an unquestionable promise.
“Well then, if that is the case, I think I’d like to go back to pretending I’m not some weird superhero who was just attacked and then kissed within a breath of my sanity. I think I’ll go back to just being Kellie today. Is that all right?”
He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that made her toes curl with desire. She knew her lust wasn’t just the connection. Not after that kiss. However, they were in no rush, and she’d told herself that yesterday. It was time to start acting like someone just getting to know another person, not a turned-on teenager who couldn’t keep her hands off the hot guy who’d suddenly taken an interest in her.
“I think that sounds like a very good idea. I’m always able to tell when you’re in trouble. As far as I know, I can’t leave this world, but I can make myself scarce if needed.”
“How about we go into one of my favorite lunch places and just start that getting to know each other thing a little better? I’m not sure about you, but learning that there is someone out there that can do real magic — not just what Wiccans can focus on — that is worth hearing about.” She grinned at him, meaning every word. She’d always longed for the type of magic that only lived in fairy tales, even though practicing energy balance was extremely fulfilling. She wanted magic on more than just a spiritual level, she wanted to be able to do things that made her life better, easier.
“Lead the way. Might want to put the phone away. We’ve been here long enough with you doing nothing more than standing around talking on a phone, and you seemed to know that Tarot Teller, don’t want to draw any extra questions to yourself.”
Without a word she dropped the phone into her bag and stood, ready to see just who Alcott truly was.
His blood was coursing through his veins so quickly that it felt as if it burned and boiled as it rolled through him. Demus had gone too far. He’d broken another rule, and had Alcott not spent two years training, there was a damned good shot he would have been mourning two losses.
“Son of a bitch!” he growled and slammed his fist into the nearest wall. The crack and splinter of plaster beneath his hand did nothing to satisfy the driving need he had to smash it into his brother’s face, repetitively.
Blowing out a breath, he turned and closed the viewing window. Kellie and Alcott were away from her home, and it was unlikely Demus or Cal would launch another attack so soon. He’d never experienced such quick hostility when a Word
Speaker came into their powers. That meant Demus was either weak, impatient or even more dangerous than before.
With little more than a thought, he opened twelve viewing windows simultaneously. Three on Word Speakers that had not yet completely released their Guardians and nine fully developed pairs. They were little windows, nearly overlapping in the small space of his office, but they were large enough that he could clearly see nothing was out of place.
Each of his most powerful pairs was safe. Whether they had been attacked by demon helpers or not, none even remotely appeared to be out of a recent battle. Closing all but one, he looked at Dale hunching over his computer. Breena wasn’t present, which wasn’t shocking since the Sprite often went to Mount Rainer to feel close to her roots.
He was able to come and go to Word Speakers on his side whenever he chose. He just often chose not to interfere. Dale’s life had been on the brink for so long, he certainly hated interfering, but his most powerful Word Speaker could not afford to be left unaware.
“For now, Dale’s safe. Demus needs to be dealt with.” He clenched his teeth and opened a doorway, stepping seamlessly through the plane that he and his brother occupied.
Demus was seated at his table, enjoying a roast that smelled so delicious that he nearly forgot they’d given up the pretense of brotherly interaction two years back. Demus lifted his head, golden eyes looking rather unamused.
“If you’re here because you’ve decided to forfeit, I’m not in the mood. Even for that.”
A strike of lightning flew from his fingertips and slammed harmlessly into a protective field around Demus. His brother merely laughed and rose from the table.
“It is amusing, that we both keeping trying to injure one another, is it not? After so many fucking months, we still think we’re better than the fucker pulling our strings.”
The fact that his brother was so nonchalant after yet another dalliance with fucking the rules to hell was more than he could handle. “I don’t care how you feel about Huracan. We accepted these destinies, and I’m tired of you consistently doing what we were ordered not to!” His voice boomed in the small space and he could feel his pulse flaring with his anger.
Demus chortled so happily that it sickened him.
“Brother, don’t you see, we can do whatever it is we wish. I presume you are upset I offered Cal the help he needed. You started that rule break by helping Alcott. I merely leveled the playing field, book to book.”
The words made him nauseated because they were true. He’d been punished for his choice with Alcott, but Huracan had merely said it would mean his brother would have a special favor. Could allowing the evil in books to work together be the favor? It seemed like it would heavily shift the balance, but it might not be impossible.
“He would never have approved of this.”
Demus grinned so wide it was eerie to see so many of his perfectly white teeth at once. “I’ll never tell how it happened. But by all means, reach out to our divine ruler and see if he deigns to heed your call.”
Nostrils flaring as he breathed heavily from anger, he lifted his head up to the ceiling and screamed for a God he knew would never answer. “Huracan!”
No response.
“Huracan! I have reason to believe the rules are broken. Heed me. Come and see that this war you and your kind have signed us up to lead isn’t being fucked with.” His chest heaved with exertion, and his eyes watered ever so slightly from his anger. He could feel his cheeks heating with fury.
But, as with the first time, Huracan still did not come. Furious, he flashed to his home across the divide of the plane. Hastily, he opened a viewing window onto his brother. The action was not forbidden, but he’d never felt the need to spy prior. All bets were off. His brother was obviously tired of waiting for the prophesied war.
In less than a minute, Demus had opened up a doorway. While that was unexpected he hadn’t anticipated seeing two of Demus’ top teams step through into his home. Word Speakers were never present in the realm the brothers lived in, just Guardians when they were in transition. Yet, without any hesitation, Cleo and her Word Speaker, Leilia, stepped through, followed by Marcos and his Word Speaker, Taryn. The four looked quite comfortable standing in a space they did not belong.
“Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath as realization dawned on him. They’d been there before.
“Thank you all for being ready so expediently,” Demus said, grinning wickedly.
Cleo’s bright amethyst eyes flashed giddily. “We’ve been waiting for this for years. It’s about time we took the fight to them. Who wants to wait around and be dead before this epic war even begins?” She ran a hand through her platinum blonde bob and looked to Leilia. You open that doorway, and we’ll take down whatever team stands on the other side.”
He felt himself stop breathing as the words rushed at him with the speed of a bullet train. His brother was cheating. He was expediting something they should not be playing with. And his brother was going to destroy those closest to him. He couldn’t speak for his brother, but his soldiers were important to him. He watched them grow and helped them find their place in the world. They were not just bargaining chips on a battlefield chessboard.
“That is exactly why you are the four that will begin this mission. Failure isn’t an option. My brother’s warriors will be on guard the moment they realize what you are.” He turned and looked to Leilia and Taryn. “The powers you wield on behalf of your Guardian partners will give you away. You must be fast if this is to be successful, and you must work as a team. We will only have so many chances to strike before my brother warns all of his soldiers and the fight drifts into the background once again. This is our chance to take a lead! We will win this war, and we will annihilate all those my brother cares for!”
The four warriors shouted in equal glee in response to his brother’s speech.
Bile quickly rolled through him, and he was so taken off guard that he nearly retched on the ground at his feet. He didn’t have time to process what his brother was going to do next. He raced to his jacket and pulled it on. Demus’ eyes might glow golden now, but there was no telling if he could distort them to appear silver.
A trench coat could very well be the poorest excuse for identity verification, but it was all he had the moment. Should they not launch the greatest war humanity had ever known over the course of the next few hours, he would have to come up with a way to separate himself from Demus in such a manner that only his side would know. For now, silver eyes and a trench coat were all he could do to be the man they had all signed up to fight for.
There wouldn’t be enough time to race from pair to pair, which meant he had to select the most obvious Word Speaker. Dale. He and Breena would be the first strike. It would be foolish to target weaker pairings. However, if the stronger pairs were taken off guard and murdered, he would be set far enough back that it would destroy his side. The only way he could attain any peace, should Demus succeed in destroying someone on their side, was to make certain his Word Speakers never knew. They would be taunted, and he knew they would seek him out, but it would be his greatest secret. His greatest torment as well, should any die and he have to hide it.
“Not if you move and alert them all.” With a wave of his hand, the doorway to Dale and Breena swiftly opened, and there was a small blowback of air as the reality tore. He had to start with Dale because he was the most obvious target, not just for his immense power, but for how he’d spurned Demus and his side of the war.
“Huracan, so help me, if you let this go unchecked…” He stepped through, prepared to do whatever was necessary to protect his team, his family.
Chapter Seven
Kellie inhaled deeply, taking in the rich, wonderful smell that was red beans and rice as the server placed it before her. She smiled at Antoine as he added a small dash of pepper to the dish because he knew she liked it, and she didn’t hesitate to pick up her spoon and slide it through the piping hot rice. There was nothing
she could do to avoid the small moan of delight as the seasoned gravy hit her tongue, conjuring up images of childhood and perfection.
“Your favorite?” Alcott asked, mirth evident in his voice.
Grinning at him, she momentarily ignored the slip of gravy as it spilled out of her mouth and down her chin. With a laugh she grabbed a paper napkin from the holder and picked up her phone, pretending to wait while it dialed. This could get old quickly. How do the other Word Speakers get on like this?
“If you must know, this was the last meal I remember eating with my dad. Right before he deployed on the mission he never came back from. We didn’t eat it here, of course, but Café Pontabla has the best red beans and rice in the Quarter.” She winked at the bartender a few feet away.
“I’m sorry to hear that it has a sad memory attached to it.”
She paused as if realizing that, to others, a last meal with her father would hold sadness. “It doesn’t. Not for me. Any memory I have with my dad is a gift. I was so young, just barely five. I like to wrap myself up in the memories as if they were blankets. I had a wonderful upbringing with my Aunt and Uncle, but they were not my dad.” She swallowed another spoonful to avoid showing him just how much the conversation was upsetting her. Speaking about her father always brought up emotions she couldn’t readily hold back.
“My last Word Speaker lost her parents in an accident. She was quite a lot older than you, but it is something you share.” His voice was far off sounding, as if the memory of his past had slipped out unbeknownst to him.