“And yet you’re here, waiting for me to make another wish? You should quit while you’re still on two feet.” Leo frowned. “Can that happen? Can you overextend yourself?”
“Magic is finite. I can only use magic from niks. The more niks, the more power I can channel into other tasks. However, manipulating more power than you can deal with can have detrimental ramifications. The older we are the more easily we can manipulate vast magics. But no matter how old we are, we can still burn ourselves out if we are not careful.”
“And that’s what happened here, isn’t it? You came close to burning yourself out?”
“Mmm…not quite. Not with this wish, although I promise you it was no easy task. But your wish…I sense your wish, whatever it ends up being, will be that dangerous for me.”
“Then why do you keep coming at me about it? Why not cut bait and run while you still can?”
“Self-preservation advice?” Grey chuckled. “I suppose you are uniquely qualified to give it to me.”
“What does that mean?” Leo demanded of him.
“It means you are an expert at self-preservation at all costs. And I do mean all costs. Because my advice, which I’m happy to impart for free, is that you might have a care for what you are doing. You’re going to wake up one day and realize you’ve done such a good job at protecting yourself that you’ve managed to isolate yourself from anything that makes a life worth living. And that, my friend, makes you very much like that Templar priest you despise so much. He is only now coming to realize what folly it has been, his search for his holy grail at the cost of everything else. And in that way he is one step ahead of you.” Grey leaned in closer, ignoring the rage simmering in Leo’s eyes. “He, at least, has come to realize what his mistakes have been and is willing to work on improving himself. You…not so much.” Grey shrugged a dismissive shoulder. “And now I’ll take my leave of you before my lambasting, I thank you. As I said, I’m quite worn out. I’m not quite up to a sound tongue-lashing.”
And just like that, he winked out of existence, his usual theatric shower of gold dust drifting to the ground in his wake. Leo, left with no avenue for his anger, was at loose ends. He began to pace the walkway with urgent, heated steps.
“I am nothing like him!” he shouted out into the cold night air, his voice echoing until it sounded hollow and lost. I am nothing like that sick Templar son of a bitch, he reiterated in his own thoughts. Or whoever it was that hurt Faith.
Unlike that Templar bastard, Leo was a man of conscience. A man of thought. He would damn well think twice before hurting anyone else. In fact, he was constantly trying to protect those around him from the harsher truths about himself. Docia and Jackson, for instance. He’d always kept the finer details of his life to himself because he didn’t want them to worry or become anxious for him.
Leo stopped pacing so abruptly that the rocks under his feet skidded.
Or maybe you were just protecting yourself? No. No, he wasn’t selfishly motivated. He honestly didn’t want anything he did to end up hurting them. He loved them more than anything else on this earth.
But now they no longer need protecting. Now they are the ones protecting you. The thought sat ill on him, but he wouldn’t let his anger come into play so it could cloud the issue. Cloud the truth. And the truth was…
They had been protecting him. When they had erased his memory of his attempt on Odjit’s life, they had been protecting him from exactly what was happening…a crisis of his self. Having been a victim to, and having become painfully aware of this Nightwalker world, he had been floundering in anger and loss. He had lost his opinion of himself. Lost his…identity. Yes, that was it. Leo the badass was no longer the best game in town. No longer able to be the strongest, the wiliest, and the best at what it took to come out on top. Now he was low man on the totem pole and frankly…
It sucked. It hurt. It made him angry.
God, what a colossal waste of time this all was! He had never been a wallower, but it seemed like all he had been doing was wallowing. Walking around and feeling sorry for himself. Using anger to keep himself righteously separated from a world he had so little say in. And if he kept it up he was going to…
Lose. Everything. Anything that was important to him was going to fall away from him. Christ. He didn’t want that. Fighting the Wraiths with his gutsy little Night Angel had proved to him that he could hold his own with these paranormal badasses. He didn’t have to be afraid of that any longer. But he did have to admit to himself that his ability here was limited and had to be used carefully. If his interaction with Chatha had taught him anything, it had taught him that.
Actually, Faith had taught him that. Faith had never once told him he couldn’t pull the job off when they were gearing up for the Wraiths. In fact, she had seemed to be worried about her own part in it. She had thought her fear of being touched would cause him trouble.
In that scenario he had been the key to defeating the Wraiths, and she had been the low man…and yet she hadn’t been angry, pissy, or threatened…unlike him.
But he had a legitimate excuse, he tried to reason with himself. He’d been victimized…
Christ. A victim. When had he turned into a victim? When had he allowed that to happen?
Leo marched into the house, making a beeline for Jackson’s bedroom suite. There were a lot of people crowded in there, Gargoyles, Bodywalkers, humans, and, of course, a Night Angel, most of whom were full of excited talk and gestures of delight. There were two notably silent presences. Kamenwati and the much subdued Faith. Kamenwati was standing off to one side, arms folded across his broad chest, head bent pensively as he observed the ruckus going on all around him. Jackson was in bed still, apparently not yet able to move because of the press of femininity weighing him down. Though he did still look gaunt and weak. Leo had no doubt it was going to take some time before he was fully up to par.
“Excuse me,” Leo said after noisily clearing his throat. All eyes turned to him quizzically. “Can I get a moment alone with my friend?”
Marissa’s hands tightened on Jackson and by the look on her face she was about to tell him to piss off. But Jackson beat her to the punch.
“Sure,” he said. “There’s something I wanted to ask you, too.”
Everyone realized they were being summarily dismissed and began to move toward the door and into the outer suite of the master bedroom. The room emptied out, both Marissa and Docia dragging their feet and continually looking back at Jackson as though he might disappear the minute they let their attention stray. That being said, it was Kamenwati who was the last to leave the room, clearly wanting to avoid coming into physical contact with anyone else.
“Hold it. I want you to stay for a minute,” Leo said, even the neutral “you” coming out of him sounding derogatory.
Kamen raised a curious brow, but stayed behind, closing the door in the faces of a lot of baffled people. Once the door was closed Kamen sighed.
“I imagine you are looking for your pound of flesh, if you’ll pardon the figurative,” Kamen said quietly. “Or perhaps you’d enjoy the literal.”
Leo was still and silent for a minute, but Jackson could see the tension in his friend’s body. What was more…he could feel it. In fact, he could feel the entire screaming jumble of emotions Leo was trying to sort out in his head. It was as though he were an empath like his wife was, but never before had he experienced anything like this.
Grey had told him there might be some side effects because of the way things had been processed, nothing to worry about because it wouldn’t last. Dumbfounded and curious, he looked at Kamen. Nothing. The only thing he could feel was what Leo was feeling. It was easy to know whose feelings it was because all the emotions were directed toward one person. Leo despised Kamen and it showed on all levels. Not that Jackson blamed him.
“First, since I have to stay here a whole month with you under the same roof,” Leo said pointing to Kamen, his tone hard but not envenomed, “I would p
refer you stay out of my way. Otherwise, you’ll be making it too easy for me to give in to my instinctual urges to kill you.”
Kamen’s expression, placid as it was, was clearly marked with his surprise. It was very clear he had been expecting the full force of Leo’s rage. And while he wasn’t shaking hands and backslapping the other man, it was clear he wasn’t as interested in starting up a physical ass-kicking.
“I will endeavor to do so,” Kamen promised him.
“Good. Now leave, I need to ask my friend for something.”
With a nod, Kamen left the room. He offered no apologies, no side of an olive branch. He knew Leo was not ready for it…and that he might never reach that point was also a strong possibility. Neither was Kamen ready to deserve it, in his mind.
Kamen saw Ahnvil at the back of the group that was milling about the door, wondering what was transpiring on the other side of it. He had flung himself into a chair near the fireplace, his big body dwarfing the chair and, it always seemed, taking up far more space than anything else in the room. Kamen walked up to him. He stood there silently for a moment, watching Ahnvil cock his head at his approach.
“What the bloody hell are you wantin’?” he asked roughly, his Scottish burr, thickened with hostile emotion, rolling hard off his tongue. Here was yet another man in this house who had a bone to pick with Kamenwati.
For Ahnvil’s part, he had just as good of a cause. As he rubbed an absent hand over the ouroboros brand over his chest, he reminded himself of why. All Gargoyles had been reborn as slaves to Bodywalker Templars. All bore the mark of their Templar masters, and all of them carried the energy of their maker within them wherever they went.
In Ahnvil’s case, he carried Kamen’s.
“I am concerned. There’s good cause to believe Apep will return to finish what he has attempted.”
“Tell me something I doona know,” Ahnvil said, scoffing at his maker.
“I’m only trying to figure out how we might defend ourselves in that case. You and I…right now we are the first line of defense for this house. All the other powerful players are weakened or spent.”
“Again, you’ve a talent for stating the obvious. Doona fret, lass,” he chuckled mirthlessly, “we Gargoyles will do as we’ve always done. Protect your hide and do your dirty work. After all, is that no’ what you created us for?”
“Yes. Yes, it is,” Kamen agreed, not shying or demurring from what was fact. Ahnvil had to grudgingly accept that. “But I think we are safe for a while, in any event. Gods do not injure easily, and when they are wounded badly they do one of two things. Either they retaliate in full fury immediately, in the moment, or they go off and heal…and plot. Apep will not come at us until he is certain he can win. And as long as we have Faith here…”
“True. Still, I willna be relaxing.”
“No. I didn’t imagine you would.”
“I wanted to apologize,” Leo said to Jackson, moving closer to the bed. Jesus. The closer he got the worse Jackson looked. It made him truly cognizant of the fact that they had probably been just minutes away from losing him completely.
“That isn’t necessary. You’ve been through a lot, and I recognize that. I also knew that you were much too strong to let Chatha get away with robbing you of yourself. It was just going to take a little time. Although I have to admit I didn’t expect it to happen this quickly.”
Leo looked Jackson in the eye. “Someone showed me…showed me what I’d be missing if I let hate and bigotry consume me,” he said quietly, feeling the understanding like pain under the marks on his chest. “I just realized…I don’t want to miss out on it. I don’t know if I can even pull it off, but I know I am not going to give up without even trying.”
“You’re being very cryptic,” Jackson mused.
“It won’t seem so once I ask you for a favor.”
“And that is?”
And for the first time since his ordeal had begun, his friend smiled his patented Leo Alvarez smile of mischief.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Leo emerged from Jackson’s room and Faith watched him scan the room quickly. His dark, intense eyes landed on her and she could tell instantly she was his target.
Feeling momentarily trapped, she found herself looking for a quick exit. There were too many people in the room and, realistically, he would only go after her or just find her later, so it was a ridiculous idea. Unless, of course, she simply left. Flew off home and never returned. He couldn’t follow her then.
But she was reluctant to leave while Jackson was still so weak. If either Jackson or Leo needed their auras repaired or strengthened, she was by far the best choice. Her skills in this area even rivaled whatever the Djynn could come up with…provided he was willing to do it without asking for compensation. His obligations to Faith’s wish had ended the instant Jackson had awakened.
When Leo made it past the crowd of people pushing to reenter Jackson’s room, he came up to her and took her arm in hand.
“Come with me,” he said. Not a request in the least, not a demand. Just a statement of fact. She was going with him. So she did. She was feeling a little numb as she let him lead her away. It was hard to know what to expect from him. His emotions seemed to vacillate so wildly…as did her own. Tears of hurt and anger stung in her eyes as she tried to remind herself that she’d only known him a pair of days at best, but she couldn’t make herself understand that in any way other than the logical. In her heart she had known him so much longer than that.
Damn Grey anyway. Why did he have to do this to them? Why had he felt it so necessary to manipulate them? But she knew the answers before she even asked the questions. Grey was a Djynn. A Djynn that had wanted something…a nik…and when a Djynn wanted a nik there was nothing they wouldn’t do to get it. She had known that going into this, had been willing to put herself on the line in spite of knowing that. If anything she should be more understanding of Leo. He had been through so much even without Grey toying with their emotions and perceptions of reality. And unlike her, he’d had no idea what he was getting himself into.
And maybe that’s what made this so hard for her. Knowing what a good man he was simply because of the sacrifices he’d so readily made in the name of a man he loved like family…even when he hadn’t been certain he was the same man he knew at all.
No, she was being too hard on him. She had to tell him she was sorry she had laid into him, judged him…been so harsh with him. But she couldn’t help the fact that she had feelings, too.
Leo drew her down the hallway and she followed, dragging her feet a little. She didn’t think she could bear him being so cold to her again. Not when she knew the love he was capable of. But still she let him lead her into a room off the main hall, the suite set up similarly to the master suite. When he let go of her to shut the door, she stood awkwardly, waiting for him to throw more anger at her, ready to watch with an aching heart as he skidded around looking for traction in a world covered in ice.
Just remember, she thought fiercely, he’s in pain. He won’t mean half of what he says. If he needs a whipping boy as he lashes out once more, it’s better if I am his target than anyone else.
Because she knew that as long as he couldn’t come to terms with the changes that had occurred with his beloved friends and family, he would have no one to trust…and no one to lean on.
He needed desperately to—
The thought was cut off when he abruptly turned to face her, took the steps that were between them with a breathtaking speed, cupped her face in his hands and dragged her up to the strength of his mouth. She gasped as he unleashed the sudden, passionate intensity, unable to move or react for all of ten seconds. And then she felt the warm persistence of a fine, strong male mouth that radiated just how determined he was to have her kiss.
Faith melted into the kiss, all stress and pain forgotten because she wanted it so badly. She felt as though she were starving for need of him, for who he was now and who he had been when Grey ha
d brought them together. Because of Grey she had been able to feel what a passionate man he was in all things, emotionally and physically. And even without Grey’s assistance she could feel it. If he was capable of such passionate anger, she had to believe that he was equally capable of passionate love. And if so, the idea was just as breathtaking as his kiss.
He felt like an immovable thing, like a tree rooted to the spot and refusing to budge…and all the while knowing it was strong enough to withstand just about anything. His strength was always so present in him. Even when he was unsure or battling fear, there was no doubt that he was anything but a powerful force of life. She relaxed against him, her hands, trapped between their bodies, opened and uncurled in order to lay flat against his chest. He suddenly broke off the kiss, and hauled her back up against the door. His dark chocolate eyes were intense, seemingly picking her apart as they swept over the features of her face.
“I owe you a few things,” he said, his words fast on the back of equally fast breaths. “First”—he touched his lips to the right corner of her lips, kissing her very gently—“an apology. I’m beginning to realize I’ve been nothing but an ass since we first set eyes on each other. An ungrateful ass at that. You saved my life, Faith. Apep would have torn me to shreds, but you saved my life. Second”—he touched his lips even more slowly and carefully to the left corner of her lips—“I owe you a thank you. I thank you for saving my brother’s life. You and I are probably the only ones who will ever know what the future would have held if we had not succeeded. He is alive and here and able to fill the future with…well, we may never know the scope of the things that will be affected in the future because we kept him from dying.”
“I—” she said breathlessly, his gentle touches were so heavily laced with a barely controlled desire that she could feel it building within the potency of him.
“And third,” he interrupted her, holding his mouth centered to hers, so close that as he spoke, she could feel his breathy words against her lips. “Third, I owe you…”
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