Feathers and Fire Series Box Set 2

by Shayne Silvers

  Then he performed a suture on himself as if he had done it hundreds of times. In war zones. While under fire.

  Totally opposite of the calm, polite, almost cute older man who had been ecstatic to receive a small security job working for a church.

  I decided I was going to press Fabrizio for a finder’s fee since I had brought Arthur into the game, even though I hadn’t intended him to become a Shepherd. He didn’t need to know that part.

  Because if his resolve and calm resiliency under pressure was any indication of his potential, Arthur might just go down as a legendary Shepherd.

  “Roland taught me one lesson pretty early on…” I began, speaking softly.

  Arthur grunted, climbing to his feet. “May as well get this over with,” he said, turning away from me and heading to the sparring room.

  My jaw might have been hanging open. Then I was jogging after him. “How did you know what I intended?” I asked him.

  “The single most important lesson for a warrior – other than learning which end of the weapon to stick into your enemies – is to learn that flesh wounds, and any other form of distraction, must be ignored during times of crises.” He said it simply, not turning to look at me as he inspected a rack of wooden sparring weapons.

  I nodded, scowling. Had it been my tone? I had hoped to come off as a wise badass mentor like Roland. Arthur must have sensed my frustration, because he finally glanced back at me.

  “Don’t worry. You did well. I’m just good at reading people.” He studied me thoughtfully. “You haven’t told anyone about me, have you?” I shook my head insistently. He studied me for a few tense moments before letting out a breath. “Bless you, Callie. Soon.” His eyes grew distant, staring out at his memories. “Soon enough, I imagine.” He shook off his memories and managed a sheepish grin. “I’ll admit that I’ll need a lot of practice with these. My previous skillset was singularly focused.”

  I studied him suspiciously. “I don’t rightly believe you, old one.”

  He grinned. “That’s because you’re smart.”

  “Let us begin,” I said, pulling out a staff and letting it thump onto the floor at my feet.

  He rolled his shoulders and pulled his own staff, dipping his head respectfully.

  Chapter 34

  Arthur studied me across the mat, the staff held loosely in his fist. I let out a calming breath, bowing back at him.

  “We aren’t going to start off sparring,” I said, approaching him. “We’ll begin with drills to loosen up, so you can get a feel for the weapon.” He nodded.

  I showed him the motions, and he caught on quickly. It wasn’t complicated. A simple attack, attack, block sequence with us alternating, to get used to the feel of staff striking staff, familiarizing our fingers to the sensation of the wood buzzing on contact with each blow while not losing track of the sequence.

  I thumped him a few times as he lost track, rapping his knuckles twice, but I kept my face a cool mask, emotionless and without sympathy. That would do him no favors, depending on who the Vatican chose as his future mentor. But he didn’t seem troubled or overly embarrassed about it, just resolved and determined.

  As we fell back into formation, I kept an eye on his chest. I saw blood through the gauze, but it wasn’t soaking the bandage, and it didn’t slow or distract him.

  “Why is it such a secret?” I asked him.

  He didn’t lose focus, but I sensed his face tighten momentarily. “I’m not who I was. Let people think so, and it’s liable to get them killed. Thinking I’ll swoop in to save them like some bloody hero.”

  I nodded, having expected the answer. Still, it was frustrating. He had told me enough to let me know the truth, but also enough to give me a million questions… and since I had promised not to speak about it – even to him – I was toeing a fine line at the moment. His eyes flashed to mine, reminding me of that promise and how close I was to breaking it. I smiled apologetically and focused back on the steady clacking of wood.

  After a few more minutes, I struck his staff harder than necessary, and stepped back just enough that his rehearsed attack slipped past my nose, the combination of a solid hit and suddenly finding no resistance in the next motion throwing him off.

  But he kept a solid grip on the staff, even dipping his head in amusement.

  “Want to show me what you can do with a sword?” I asked mischievously.

  He smirked, but lowered his eyes. “I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

  I scoffed, but he winked at me.

  “Another time,” he finally said – gently but firmly.

  I sighed. “Fine. But you did well today. Get used to the various weapons. You can use the bag to practice striking, and there are several books back in the small library where I got the whiskey. Read over them if for no other reason than to familiarize yourself with the terms. The seemingly useless information will come in handy when you have an actual mentor, saving you time as you begin your training in earnest.”

  He nodded, glancing past me towards the room. “I like a good book,” he said. Then he held out a hand for my staff. I handed it over, years of training with Roland subconsciously preparing me for a sneak attack, but Arthur simply took the staff from me with a chuckle, reading something about my body position that let him know what I was thinking.

  As he racked our weapons, I found myself watching him thoughtfully. It would be fun to teach Arthur, but also frustrating. It was hard not to see him as an authority figure since he was older, and I knew about his past. So, teaching him how to spar almost made me feel like a fraud. Not that I wasn’t skilled, but…

  Knowing his past was making me think of him as a legend, and that would only get someone hurt if he didn’t end up living up to the reputation. His point was valid. But it still made it hard for me to regard him as a simple student.

  Whoever trained him would have their work cut out for them, because although I knew he wouldn’t be sharing his past with them, he had the molding of an experienced man, and any tutor worth his salt would sense it as well, thinking they were the brunt of a joke.

  Maybe it was best if I was the trainer. I was uniquely qualified – I knew his past, and I was good at fighting. Any other trainer would just be good at fighting and might grow suspicious of Arthur’s unassuming nature.

  I’d think on it.

  Arthur walked back up to me, hands behind his back. “You have somewhere to be.”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “This is good. It will keep you out of my hair.”

  I arched a brow at him and he smiled. “Be careful down here, Arthur. Stick to the main areas until you hear back from Rome. Deal?”

  He nodded. “It was nice seeing you, Callie.”

  I smiled. “Thanks for… being you, I guess.”

  He frowned. “I told you, I’m not who I was.”

  I shook my head in amusement. “I meant you, Arthur. You’re a good man. I’m glad we met.”

  He studied me thoughtfully for a few moments, reading my face. “Likewise,” he finally said with a smile. “Now be off with you. I’ve got books to read.”

  “This might sound strange, but… be careful how much you devote yourself to books. Don’t let them change you,” I said cryptically.

  He laughed. “I won’t become a zealot, Callie. In that regard, the Shepherds might be disappointed in recruiting me.”

  Then he was walking away, whistling as he made his way over to the books.

  He scooped up the whiskey on the way.

  Picking Arthur might have just been the biggest accidental good choice I’d ever heard of the Vatican making. Or maybe Roland had seen something in Arthur…

  For now, I had no choice but to keep his secret, and to teach him how to protect himself from monsters – the ones he would hunt down, and the ones he would work for.

  Chapter 35

  I settled on my bed, muscles pleasantly sore from the brief training. A reminder that I had been slacking lately. Too littl
e physical training and too much combat-magic training. I needed to get back to my roots. I closed my eyes, breathing evenly, appreciating the silence of my apartment. I wasn’t sure where Claire had run off to, but I was glad for it. I had too many errant thoughts. I needed to clear my head, find my cente—

  “How does this one look on me?” Claire asked from only a few feet away.

  I gasped, which turned into a coughing fit.

  “Claire!” I wheezed, realizing she was standing in my closet.

  “Callie,” she said in a dry tone. “Does this dress look good on me?” she repeated.

  I threw a pillow at her. She frowned as it struck her stomach, not even grunting. “Little crazier than usual. Something on your mind?” she asked, turning to assess herself in the mirror.

  “No. Nothing. Just… you caught me off guard. I didn’t hear you lurking in my closet like a serial killer.”

  “Does the serial killer look good in this dress?” she asked, not turning to look at me.

  I sighed. I was off my game for sure if I hadn’t even noticed her rummaging around my closet. I frowned at her. “Why do you care how my dress looks on you?”

  She blushed instantly. “No reason. Just curious.”

  “Hmmm… Nothing to do with Kenai?” I asked sweetly. He was the shifter bear who had his sights on Claire. She professed disinterest in him, but I always caught her smiling when she complained about him.

  “Well, now that you mention it, he did call,” she said offhandedly. “Wanted to know when I was coming back to Alaska. They decided to stay up there a few more weeks before returning.” The shifter bears were a pretty reclusive group, and those in Kansas City had decided to head out of town for a while after Claire first turned, thinking she would need some time to adjust.

  But Claire had caught on quickly – and had grown bored even more quickly, not appreciating the concept of living in the woods with a bunch of shifters.

  I nodded, hiding my grin. “Well, a dress wouldn’t really go with your subzero gear.”

  She nodded, eyes distant. “Starlight wants to work with me some more.”

  “Oh?” Starlight was a kind of Shaman leader of sorts for the shifter bears. Like their medicine man. Not an Alpha, but a spiritual guide. He’d also been a wizard at one point before turning. He was kind of an enigma, and he believed Claire showed unique gifts that fit with his area of expertise. Claire hadn’t stuck around long enough to learn whether he was right or not.

  “Anyway, I was just having some fun since I woke up and you were gone.”

  I winced guiltily. “I swung by the Church to talk to Arthur,” I said. She looked over sharply, as if checking to see if I was wearing my dirty liar face. I held up my hand. “Promise.”

  She relaxed. “Right. Well, don’t do that again. Or at least let me know if you’re leaving. Lot of enemies lately. And I promised you I would keep an eye on you. For your own good.”

  I smiled, waiting until she had turned around again. “Speaking of, I need to head out again, but I need you to stay here. In case anyone shows up to deliver a message.”

  She slowly turned, placing her hands on her hips. “I disagree with the intelligence of that plan.”

  “I’m not doing anything dangerous. Promise. And not the promise where I’m really lying to you. The other kind. The one I don’t use as often.”

  Her frown deepened. “Swear it on our friendship. That you are doing nothing where you might coincidentally find yourself in a fight.”

  I thought about it before nodding. “I swear.”

  She watched me, her gaze branding the promise onto my forehead. “Fine. Begone, harlot.”

  I jumped off the bed before she could change her mind. “See you soon. Two hours at the most.”

  “Make it shorter,” she called out as I opened a Gateway in the living room, jumping through before Claire could take a peek at the destination on the other side.

  I let the Gateway wink closed behind me and inhaled the scent of cured leather. Peace. Comfort. Protection.

  Darling and Dear.

  I needed somewhere quiet and safe to clear my head, and since Abundant Angel Catholic Church and my own home were currently occupied, I needed an alternative. And something I’d heard from the proprietors earlier had me thinking.

  I’d said something about the gangs in town pissing me off. Darling had replied that both Angels and Demons were vermin, misinterpreting my statement. Because I hadn’t mentioned Angels or Demons at that point in the conversation. How much did he really know?

  “Hello?” I called out in a loud, cautious tone. I didn’t want to have them thinking I was an intruder. Thinking back, I probably shouldn’t have made a Gateway directly into their shop. My feet slowed as I thought about that. In fact, I was sure that shouldn’t have even been possible. Wasn’t the place warded? Hadn’t they told me that before? But if it was warded, my Gateway wouldn’t have worked. Maybe they had given me access, but had forgotten to tell me.

  Darling was suddenly walking beside me, entwining his arm through mine so that he held my forearm in the crook of his elbow, escorting me down the aisle without breaking my stride. I stifled my gasp of surprise, not having sensed him appear.

  “Thought that would have taken you longer to figure out,” he commented conversationally. “Now, we can get down to the affair you desire.”

  My stomach fluttered at that. “Um, Darling, I didn’t come here to have an affair—”

  “Your loss, child. He is quite talented,” Dear said from my other side, suddenly holding my other arm in the crook of her own elbow. “But I do not think that was the affair he meant.”

  “A double entendre offers so much room for miscommunication. I adore them. One will never get what one does not ask for, and my carefully chosen words could have yielded… sweet, sweet nectar, Dear,” he scolded his partner, sounding both disappointed and amused.

  “My apologies, Darling. I’ll give her a few more moments to flounder before saving our Callie from your seductive clutches,” she said apologetically.

  “Thank you, Dear,” he said, dismissing the matter.

  I shook my head, focusing on my task, rather than their bizarre volley. “I came to ask if you had a room I could use. A private one.” I swallowed, careful to sound respectful as I continued. “One that is private from even you two,” I clarified. “No offense.”

  They shared a look with each other as if I didn’t exist between them, even though they were practically dragging me through their shop.

  “That could be arranged,” Dear said slowly.

  “Indefinitely,” Darling added.

  “If you agree to our price,” Dear said.

  I winced. “I just need a few minutes of peace and quiet. I’m not buying an eternal timeshare.”

  “Privacy is expensive. And you are a dangerous customer. If we aren’t listening in, how are we to know what naughty things you could get up to? What attention you might attract.”

  “Nothing is free,” Darling summarized. “We must have plausible deniability. You pay, no one can become suspicious. We do you a favor, enemies might ask questions.”

  I sighed. They were right. Why hadn’t I been paranoid enough to see this coming?

  “And how much is a room?” I asked warily.

  “What kind of room?” Darling smiled suggestively.

  “If you will need whips, chains, and other tools of pleasure and casual domination, it’s one price,” Dear explained conversationally, finger lazily pointing out a few leather paddles and furry handcuffs. I blushed, shaking my head. I felt her eyes on me. “If you require a soundproof room with tools for extracting information from your… guests, that is a different price.”

  I shivered. “I just need a couch. Maybe a fireplace. It’s to meditate,” I added, wondering if they would decipher some twisted fetish involving a fireplace and a couch.

  “Oh, that’s much more expensive,” Darling said in a somber tone.

  I laughed, gla
ncing over at him. But his face was deadly serious. My humor faltered. What the hell? Sex dungeons were cheaper than tranquil meditation rooms?

  “What is the price?” I asked, wondering if I needed to find a fourth alternative. A hotel room or something.

  “You must make a deal with a daemon,” they said in unison.

  I stumbled a step, but as if they had anticipated it, they were supporting me almost the moment I began to fall. “I don’t think so. I don’t deal with demons. I kill them.”

  They frowned at each other, as if I had spoken gibberish. “Not demons,” Dear enunciated the e sound. “Daemons,” she said, making it sound like day-muns.

  “Spirit guides,” Darling elaborated. “Not good or bad. They offer untarnished, honest advice.”

  I studied the shop as we continued on in silence, thinking. I hadn’t ever heard about a daemon. But it didn’t sound bad, and these two had never steered me wrong before. They almost acted like my crazy distant aunt and uncle.

  I cleared my throat, careful to sound respectful. “You two are daemons?”

  They stiffened as one, their eyes locked ahead as we walked a few paces in silence.

  “We… are what we are. Not daemons,” Dear murmured.

  “The world will know soon enough,” Darling added in a whisper. “But not yet.”

  “When?” I asked carefully.

  I felt them shift their attention to look down at my hand in each of their arms as if searching for something. “Perhaps when the world is ending,” Darling sighed.

  “Or when you get better accessories,” Dear chimed in, smiling wickedly.

  I frowned. “You two sell me my accessories,” I said drily.

  They released me simultaneously, both pointing at a door that suddenly appeared ahead of me. It looked like it led into one of their small cozy changing rooms. Or a secret sex dungeon. Or a daemon’s lair.

  Surprise was the spice of life.

  “Do you require further assistance?” Dear asked me, ignoring my last comment.