by Lisa Kumar
“I never pegged you as the vengeful type.” He raked her coat-covered body with a heated gaze and lingered on the outline of her legs that were displayed through her tights. “I admit I like it.” Lust flowed southward as his erection strained against his zipper, which was conveniently covered by his wool coat.
“Down, boy.” She shook her head, blushing. “We still have to take this big guy out and then talk about the whole mate thing.”
Ah, yes. Just the thought of that killed his arousal. He threw her a piqued look. “You know how to destroy a lusty moment with astonishing ease.”
“Sorry.” Her mouth quirked up on one side. “I just have a lot on my mind.” She strode toward the stairs again. “Come on. After Archie’s been cooped up all day during the winter months, taking the stairs is good exercise for him.”
“You’re a good owner.” The unwitting admiration that burst through him sent alarm slithering along his spine. What was this woman doing to him? He knew he should get away from her as soon as possible, but all he wanted to do was stay by her side.
Caralyn pushed open the heavy door to the stairs, and Archie bounded through. “He’s family to me. My parents live about an hour and a half away, so I don’t see them as much as I should. Same for my brothers and sister.”
The dog carefully clopped down the flight of stairs with Caralyn tailing him. Eamon followed, his long legs easily eating up the distance. “You’re close to your family?” He’d never heard her mention them before and had to admit he was curious. More than a few times he’d seen her speaking to someone on her cell phone. Maybe she’d been talking to one of them?
She paused at the bottom of the stairs, reining the eager Archie in. “Sort of.”
He raised a brow as he joined her. “Sort of?”
“They’ve been pretty supportive of me becoming a physical therapist, but they’d like me to move home.” After she pushed open the stairwell door, Archie raced out into the hallway and strained against the leash.
Caralyn’s soft giggle floated back to Eamon. She canted her head to the side to look back toward Eamon. The soft expression in her eyes caused his stomach to flip-flop. He’d never thought anyone would stare at him that way. After Serrina, he hadn’t wanted anyone to. With Caralyn, though, it was different. He actually loved seeing that expression on her face, so what did that mean? Not wanting to examine that question closer, he picked up the thread of their conversation.
“So moving back home isn’t a viable option?” Now that he thought about it, it wasn’t. He didn’t want her anywhere but in Murren — or wherever he was. She was too useful to lose.
“My parents mean well, but they also want me to live my life in a certain way.” She shrugged and pushed open the front entrance door. A blast of cold wind swept in. That didn’t deter the inimitable Archie, though. He loped out like it was a warm spring day.
Once outside on the dimly lit sidewalk, Caralyn shivered before continuing. “I find it easier when there’s over an hour’s distance that separates us, but it’s still close enough that they don’t protest much.” She paused before the much, letting him know they did voice quite a few objections. “They particularly flipped their lids when my cousin and her friend vanished from the local campus here and wanted me to return home immediately.”
He stepped beside her as a few errant flakes floated down from the dark sky. “Vanished?”
“Yeah, seemingly out of thin air.” She frowned and shook her head.
A trickle of unease wound up his spine. He fought to keep his voice even. “How peculiar.”
Archie pulled against the leash, so Caralyn started walking. “It was. There’s still no trace of Maggie or her friend.”
The name knifed into him. Maggie? A chill enveloped him that had little to do with the cold.
Surely, it had to be a different Maggie? His mind jeered at him. How many Maggies could there be in this town? Quite a few, actually.
Though only slightly assured, he did his best to rein in his nervous fears. He knew he wouldn’t be able to rest easy until he found out the truth. But if he showed too much curiosity, that would only arouse her suspicion.
He tried to sound nonchalant. “How long have they been missing?”
“About eleven months, I think.”
Panic froze his feet, and he lurched to a stop. Eleven months — that couldn’t be happenstance.
Caralyn stepped in his direction. “Are you all right?”
“I merely slid. Just carelessness.” He pushed his alarm down. Even if Maggie were her cousin, Caralyn would never find out the truth of her disappearance. He’d make sure of it. Anyway, though she didn’t appear happy at the remembrance of her cousin, neither did she seem broken-hearted.
Her furrowed brow smoothed out. “If you had fallen, it would’ve been reminiscent of how we met with you flat on your back.”
“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?” he said and forced himself to act his normal self, scowling and shooting her a dirty look.
She grinned and let Archie lead them down the sidewalk. “Nope.”
Her good humor lightened his mood somewhat, though their previous conversation still tugged on him like a weight. He knew he should leave the topic be, but some part of him wanted to keep pressing for information.
“Were you close to this Maggie?” The words spewed out of his mouth before he could gag them.
Her broad grin faded. “We didn’t grow up together, but we’ve always gotten along well enough. She was sometimes a little devil-may-care for me, but underneath it, she had a good heart — one I hope is still beating somewhere and is happy.”
Oh, it was nauseatingly so from what he’d last seen. Rumor had even reached his ears that she was going to present the king with the dubious honor of a half-breed child. Eamon almost felt sorry for Relian, the king’s first son, but his cousin had the same poor taste as the father and had bonded to a human. At least Cal — short for Calantha and a much more dignified name in his estimation — was more palatable than the brash Maggie. He still couldn’t bring himself to call her the queen. It was a wonder she was related at all to his Caralyn.
His Caralyn? Why did he keep thinking of her that way? He swore the area where his heart should be ached. But that was ridiculous.
How could he want her? A human, everything he hated, wrapped up into one brilliant, beautiful package. He groaned, rubbing his forehead. Humans had the right phrase for it — what was it? — oh, yes, fucked up. He was fucked up, more than she’d ever know.
“Eamon, are you okay?”
Aware that he’d been quiet for some time, he came back to the present. “I’m fine,” he said somewhat stiffly.
“Okay.” Though doubt laced her voice, she didn’t question him further.
The night swirled more snowflakes down on them, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Caralyn stick out her tongue. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to catch snowflakes. Surely, you’ve tried doing it sometime in your long life?”
He couldn’t say he had, and oddly enough, it left him feeling slightly deficient. It wasn’t a sensation he liked at all. Defensiveness roared to the forefront. “I didn’t have time for idle play.”
She slipped her arm through his and peered at him. “Even as a child?”
Always surprised by her occasional easy touch, he found it took himself a moment to reply. “Especially as a child.”
“That’s sad.”
“It was life.” He wasn’t looking for pity, and if she showed him any, he might just lose the tenacious hold he had on his temper.
“I know, but it still doesn’t mean the loss can’t be mourned.”
“Why should you when I don’t?” That wasn’t true, however. When he let himself think too much, he did mourn the loss of the few snatches of childhood he had before his mother died.
“Then someone should.”
He thought her words would’ve offended him, but instead, they sent a tingl
ing warmth through his blood. Internally, he sneered at himself. Weak — that was what he was being. He’d never taken comfort in “warm and tingly,” so why start now?
Some softhearted part of him couldn’t bring himself to ruin the moment. He knew his words could be as sharp as a blade, but he didn’t feel like wounding Caralyn that way. She was too damnably sweet. Being a bastard didn’t appeal to him for once, so he switched the subject. “What are your parents employed in?”
Caralyn, her arm still around his, sent him a sidelong glance as they neared a small park he hadn’t seen before. Bands of light from the vehicles passing by slashed the dimness of the night.
“Why are you so interested?” Her tone held no rancor, just inquisitiveness.
That was a good question. Why was he so curious? The life of a simple mortal shouldn’t pose that much of an interest to him. “Boredom?” That would’ve been a feasible answer except for the fact it came out as more of a question than an answer.
Archie stopped at the outskirts of the park and stiffed at an apparently enthralling patch of snow-covered grass. Caralyn spoke after a reflective pause. “You must be awfully bored, then.”
Her voice carried a teasing note that helped him deflect the seriousness of the topic. “Dreadfully, and I’m afraid there are only a few activities that alleviate it.”
“Oh, and they are?” Her eyes were innocently inquiring.
He bit back a smile. She was so easy to bait, and she’d strode right into his quip and didn’t even realize it yet. “While I enjoy your efforts in the kitchen, I enjoy the ones in the bedroom even more.”
A saucy grin played about her lips. “Really? I think I prefer your budding efforts in the kitchen more.”
“Budding?” He didn’t know whether to be more offended she insulted his exemplary cooking or his not-inconsiderable skills in the bedroom.
She laughed. The full, rich sound caressed his senses, and his heart lurched and then sped up in the most alarming way.
Bumping her hip against his leg, she chortled. “The look on your face. Even in this light, I could see the horror written there.”
His brain took a moment to kick back into functioning mode again. “I wasn’t so much horrified as wondering if you’d lost all reason.”
“My sanity is fine. I just find your sense of self-worth to be bigger than you are tall.”
“That’s a bad thing?”
She cast him a dry look. “What do you think?”
“You’re in awe of my magnificence?”
“Hardly.” After Archie emptied his bladder and bowels, Caralyn bent down with a plastic sack in hand.
He felt his nose wrinkle. “That has to be one of the largest drawbacks to owning a dog.”
“Better he does it out here than I have to clean it up inside.” She stood up and let the dog take the lead. “Anyway, you get used to it, and I actually never touch the poop with my hand. The sack is a barrier since I use it like a glove.”
Not wanting to talk about dog excrement, he returned to a previous line of questioning. “You never mentioned what trade your parents are engaged in.”
“It’s not exactly a trade for my dad. He’s a minister, and my mom works part-time in a bakery.”
“A man of religion?” That was a surprise. He hadn’t thought Caralyn a deeply religious person.
“Yeah.” A frigid blast of wind slammed into them, and she shivered.
Too bad they couldn’t share body heat. Maybe they could. He withdrew his arm from hers and instead slipped it around her shoulders, anchoring her to his side. “Better?”
She nodded and sunk deeper against him. Glancing down at her cap-covered head, he felt like he held the world in his arms. What a ridiculous notion. She was merely part of a means to an end. That was all. Unfortunately, that was utterly false, and he knew it. Damn her, he was going soft, and there didn’t seem to be a thing he could do about it.
Divine retribution? He’d almost think so if he were a religious man. The urge to push her away and run nearly crushed him. He might be many things, but a coward wasn’t one of them, though. So, heart racing, he held his ground.
After he wrestled his runaway emotions into some semblance of control, he asked, “So what was life like with the minister and the baker?”
“Like I said, they had certain expectations for my life.”
“Like what?”
“Finding a good Christian man so I can get married and supply them with grandchildren.” She smiled ruefully. “Mind you, they never said that in so many words.”
“Of course not.” Not even humans would be that tactless, would they? He tried to ignore the sick feeling that grew in his stomach. What would they think of him —someone who had murder and mayhem under his sleeve — then? He caught himself before his line of thought could continue. Why did it even matter? He wouldn’t ever meet them.
“To you, their desires are something to be avoided?” Personally, he’d never heard a worse idea than Caralyn getting married. To a human, to someone who could never appreciate her the way he —
What? The way he could? Now he knew insanity was talking.
Her voice tore him back to the moment. “I have no problem with it when it occurs according to my own dictates and schedule, not theirs.”
A fair answer. She had no plans to marry soon by the sounds of it. Heady relief, like a breaking dam, inundated him. God, he needed to get control over himself. What would he do next? Sob like a woman?
“How about you?” she asked.
“What? Me getting married?” He never saw that happening.
“No. Do you have ministers, priests, or whatever they’re called in Eria?”
“We have our clerics. I’d never want to be one. I’m not overly spiritual.”
“I kind of figured that. You seem to be the kind to only worship yourself.”
He shrugged but didn’t deny it. Not that he didn’t believe in a higher presence, but he just didn’t put much faith in that being. “I know my own capabilities. And you ... are you spiritual?”
“Another thing my parents disapprove of. I’m not active in the church. I do believe most of what I learned as a child but would much rather find God while trekking outside with Archie than in the four walls of a church.”
A spark of admiration seeded in his chest. He could find no fault with that answer and showed she could think for herself. Before he could reply, she tugged on Archie’s leash to get him moving back toward the sidewalk.
“Come on, boy, time to go home.” She turned to Eamon. “Ready to head back?”
Get out of this infernal cold and retire to bed with her? “Yes.”
She increased her pace, heading back in the direction they’d come. “Good, it’s cold. I want to warm up and get my pajamas on.”
Lust, potent and hot, burned through his veins at the thought of helping her warm up. “I’ll help you.”
She glanced at him, and her eyes promised the secret delight that awaited him. “I know you will, but first we need to talk about how the potential mates are found.”
His desire plummeted, the reality of that evening’s upcoming conversation staring him in the face. In his excitement, he’d forgotten about their planned talk. Any lovemaking would have to be delayed until later. “If we must.”
Their walk home was quick, with even Archie finally seeming to want to get out of the cold. Once inside the apartment, they shed their outerwear. Andrian jeered at them as he got up the sofa to head to the kitchen. “The lovebirds back? You didn’t have a tumble in the snow?”
Caralyn stared at Andrian’s retreating back. “What’s wrong with him? He’s normally snippy to you but doesn’t normally aim it at me.”
Eamon shrugged, not concerned. “Who knows?” Truthfully, he had no desire to understand what went through the graykindred’s head.
“Okay.” Though she still looked worried, she smiled at him. “I’m going to get my PJs on. Then we can talk. Want a cup of coffee?”
“Yes.” He’d always turned down the pungent brew before, but the thought of something warm sliding down his throat was a welcome idea. Since he couldn’t have the essence of Caralyn’s sweet release now, he’d try a poor substitute.
“I’ll start it once I change.” She threw a glance at the kitchen. “I don’t want to chance Mr. Grumpy.”
Eamon snorted. “I’m not afraid of him.”
“Me, either, really. But everyone should have their own space to be alone when they need it.”
Her compassion and understanding never failed to surprise him. It was something he was beginning to like when she turned it toward him, but it wasn’t so favorable when she aimed it at Andrian. He wouldn’t tell her any of this, though, so he settled for saying, “Go change, and don’t take your time.”
“Okay, Mr. Bossy.” She didn’t sound put out and headed down the hallway with Archie in pursuit. Lucky dog.
He sighed and loitered in the middle of the room. What had his life come to that he envied a dog?
Andrian stomped through the kitchen entrance, not bothering to look in his direction. That suited Eamon just fine.
However, when the graykindred opened the closet door and took out his coat, Eamon couldn’t stay quiet. “Where are you going?”
“Out.”
“Obviously, but why?”
As Andrian slipped into his coat and gloves, he still didn’t look at him. “None of your concern.”
Eamon shrugged and reclined on a chair. “Fine. Just don’t expect me to come looking for you if you get lost or into trouble.”
“The day I need your help is the day I’ll lie down and die.”
“A challenge? I accept.”
Andrian stared at the opposite wall, his eyes blank and seeming not to see anything. “I’d wish you a goodnight, but I don’t want you to have one.”
“You wound me,” Eamon said and pretended to clutch at his heart.
Marching toward the front door, Andrian made no reply. Before Eamon could say another word, the graykindred had slipped outside.
Chapter 25
Caralyn, already changed into her comfortable pajamas, walked to the kitchen and strode right back out. Andrian wasn’t in there. Her gaze went to the half-bath. The door was slightly ajar, and no light came from the small space. She glanced at Eamon. “Where’s Andrian?”