by Lisa Kumar
Eamon bopped her nose with a finger. “Are you listening? I’m admitting something quite momentous, and I don’t want to have to say it again.”
She blinked, disoriented as if she were awakening from a dream. “I heard you,” she said slowly, her voice sounding hoarse to her ears. Inside, every atom still quivered in an erratic dance.
God, could he see the truth in her eyes? She felt naked as if he could read every thought, every emotion, on her face.
Either not noticing or granting her some small mercy, he nodded. “Good. Are we done with this conversation, or do you desire more discussion?” He grimaced at his last words, apparently finding them distasteful.
She avoided his eyes and sucked her lower lip in-between her teeth. What did she want? To talk? No, more like leap off his lap and hole up in her room, but she knew he had a way to magic the door unlocked. Continuing their conversation wasn’t feasible, either. She doubted she could really process much. “I think that’s enough for now. I can’t wrap my head around anything more.”
Boy, was that ever the truth. She feared it’d be her normal state for the foreseeable future.
Her cell phone buzzed. She grasped onto the sound like a drowning woman would a life preserver. Any distraction that would put some distance between her and Eamon was a friend. Right now, it didn’t matter if the call was important and that the person could leave a message.
She bolted to rise, but he stayed her upward motion with the tightening of his arms. “Get it later,” he said, nuzzling the shell of her ear.
“If I don’t answer it now, I won’t be able to get it.” Her tone contained a desperate note she hoped he didn’t notice.
With a resigned sigh, he hefted her off his lap. In no time flat, she scrambled to the safety of her phone.
She thumbed talk on the screen and didn’t even bother to see who was calling. “Hello, this is Caralyn.”
“Hi, Caralyn, are Eamon and Andrian there? We all need to talk.”
A moment passed before she could place the firm male voice, but when she did, she nearly dropped the phone.
Kaiden West was on the other end.
Chapter 26
Andrian stalked down the sidewalk, the dark sky a perfect foil for his mood. The cold wind bit at his face, and the snow blew in a cutting angle against the skin of his cheeks. The pain was welcome, though. It grounded him to the moment, the reality of the world around him, which he could all too easily lose sight of if he weren’t careful.
A bitter smile curved his lips. Insanity did that to a person.
And Eamon ...
He didn’t know why he let the corrupting ass affect him so. Even now, the anger clawed at him. Worse, the insanity and all its murkiness lurked right underneath. It was his ever-present companion, always snapping at him, always ready to devour. When he’d been turned, the conversion had broken something in his mind. Though he’d quickly learned how to control the animalistic side of being a darkindred, the lunacy tearing at his mind had taken much longer to corral. If he let it free, he could forget who and what he was. However, the nightmares of his past invariably crept in as visions that scared and disoriented him, leaving him prone to either cowering like a frightened child or lashing out like a vicious animal. Neither option was healthy or safe for him or anyone in the vicinity, as he could vacillate between the two extremes within minutes, seconds, even a heartbeat.
Now, most of the time, he could suppress the madness and still function. Being in such close quarters with Eamon, though, tested all his sanity.
Not knowing or caring where he was going, he let his feet take him where they willed. As the freezing air continued to seep into his overheated body, the instability waiting to gobble him up lessened. His breath slowed, and his heart dropped back into his chest.
He looked up and saw the glowing sign of the Fried Apple Eatery above him. Though he wasn’t hungry, he found himself reaching out to push open the door. He’d been here once before on a walk of his, and the memory of big gray eyes still remained seared into his brain. That thought alone made him hesitate on the threshold, the door partly open. Then he scoffed. She probably wasn’t even working tonight, and so what if she was? She was nothing but a pretty human, one of many, and certainly nothing special. And he’d learned long ago that females, elf or human, could be treacherous creatures that were best avoided unless one wanted a simple tumble.
As soon as the door shut behind him, his gaze drifted across the brown-toned room and all those assembled there. When it alighted on a head of glossy black hair — which he should hate beyond all reason on her but didn’t — he stumbled over his own feet. Another sort of madness had gripped him. He barely caught himself as he lurched forward. His hip still managed to clip a small, empty side table. The rattling sound sent all attention snapping his way, even hers.
When she saw him, her gray eyes widened. The urge to run out the entrance hit. He felt cornered and as if her stare saw too much. It was a horrible, frightening sensation he couldn’t shake. Yet some odd part of him didn’t want to.
She broke his trance as she turned back to her current customer. Aware that people were still looking at him, he claimed the nearest empty table that he hadn’t crashed into. By Eria, what was he even doing here?
Even as he unzipped his coat, his gaze zeroed in on her as if she were a magnet. Her back was to him again, but the way she held herself couldn’t be disguised. She had an open, honest stance about her, though he remembered the shadows that had lurked in her soulful eyes. Still, an irrepressible joy seemed to suffuse every corner of her being. It wasn’t due to her having a yellow aura, either. That she lacked, which he’d felt momentarily dejected about for some strange reason. Even if she’d had had one, she would’ve been meant for a good, noble elf, not one such as him. He might’ve been the king’s brother at one time, but he’d sunk into the deepest gutter he could find when he’d taken up with Serrina. Nothing he could do would wipe clean all that had come after.
As much as he wanted to despise Eamon, he wasn’t blind to his own evil, his own faults. Those had put him in a precarious position that had led to his change, his corruption. When he could’ve helped a young Eamon, he hadn’t. How much would have changed if he had taken the boy and protected him?
A bitter grimace curved his lips. He’d never know the answer to that, and if he dwelled on it too long, that murkiness would rise up, ready to sweep away all of what and who he was.
“Hi, my name’s Livvy, and I’ll be serving you tonight.
He started and banged his knee against the bottom of the table. With his mouth hanging open, he stared at her. “Yes, I remember your name.”
He almost choked on his words. How could something so inane have come out of his mouth? He was no stranger to flirtation and seduction.
She smiled slightly as if amused. “I was pretty sure you were in a few days ago. Hard to forget a tall fellow like you.”
A shy appreciation shined in her eyes, but it wasn’t the outright lust so many women looked at him with. In fact, he’d never been propositioned more than in the last week and a half. Since he’d been in such unfamiliar surroundings — and still was — he was hesitant to accept any of them. This lady, however, might be able to tempt him enough to lay aside his concerns.
She handed him a menu. “Would you like anything to drink?”
“I’ll take some juice from an orange.”
Her nose wrinkled, and she gave him a strange look. “Orange juice?”
“Yes,” he said, heat creeping up his neck.
“You have an interesting accent. Where are you from?”
“Europe.”
Livvy gazed at him patiently. “Where in Europe?”
Damnation, what country had Caralyn said he and Eamon were supposed to be from? His mind felt lazy and sluggish. “Norway.”
She clapped her hands. “How exciting! Are you enjoying your stay here?” She paused, appearing to think better of her words. “Or have you moved t
o the US?”
The truth seemed the easiest thing to say. “I’m here for the time-being.”
A happy grin curved her lips. “I hope you love it here.” Her gaze flickered out over the room. “I’ll be back with your orange juice soon.”
He watched her walk away, appreciative of how her tight pants followed every line of her curvy lower half. Then reality slapped him upside the head. How could she have sneaked up on him? For Mystics’ sake, he was a trained warrior whose senses were somewhat superior to those of a human’s. Sadly, no one would be able to tell that right now. He’d shown anything but stealth and cunning since entering this restaurant.
With a sigh he turned his focus to the menu. It wouldn’t do to further embarrass himself when she came to take his order.
She returned after a few minutes with the glass of juice. After she set it down in front of him, she lifted her notepad. “Are you ready to order?”
“I’ll take the sirloin with a baked potato.”
“How do you want that cooked?”
They had to ask that? Shouldn’t it always be cooked the same? He didn’t know their methods of preparation. “As long as it’s cooked and not bloody, I care not.”
“An agreeable customer. I like that. What kind of dressing do you want on your side salad?”
He frowned. How would he know — and why so many questions? When he’d eaten out with Caralyn, he’d never paid that much attention to what the servers asked. “I’ll take the most flavorful one.”
“They’re all flavorful in their own right. It comes down to personal taste.”
“Surprise me.” He didn’t want to admit he didn’t know what flavors it could come in.
Livvy nodded. “Will do. Anything else?”
“That’s all for now, thank you.”
With a sweet smile, she turned back to go into the kitchen. The gentle sway of her backside sent a bolt of lust careening southward, and he put a hand over his mouth to muffle his nearly inaudible groan. Ripping his gaze away from the delectable sight, he thought of the most disgusting thing he could think of. Eamon, with his smarmy smirk, rose to the forefront. Andrian’s nether regions wilted like a flower denied sustenance. Yes, that had done it. A pity the old insanity-inducing anger wasn’t far behind. He could feel it bubbling under his skin, seeking a way out.
Forcing his breath out through his nose slowly, he forced the feeling down and stared at a picture on the wall across the room. If he could ground himself in his environment, that often took the edge off.
Before he knew it, his little waitress was back with his food, and his ruminations were shattered, just like his remaining composure.
“Here you are.”
Her sweet voice only enflamed his nerves. He clenched his hands where they rested on his lap under the table. How foolhardy he’d been to come here.
He cleared his throat and managed to find his voice. “Thank you, it looks delicious.” He hadn’t even bothered to look at the plate.
A smile so bright it nearly stunned him blossomed on her lips. “Enjoy your meal.”
Food wasn’t what he wanted to enjoy, but he couldn’t tell her that he’d much prefer her legs wrapped around him. They both said a few more pleasantries he barely heard or remembered uttering.
After one last lingering glance, she left to attend to her other customers. A sense of relief and loss assailed him. He set about engaging himself in his meal, but like before, his gaze sought her out constantly.
Was it his imagination, or did she send him just as many covert glances? The light flush on her cheeks said his suspicions were correct.
Halfway through his meal, she sat down a few tables from him. She had a small plate of fries and a glass of fruit-covered yogurt. The inane notion of inviting her to sit with him crawled through his brain. Insanity, pure insanity, on his part. Now he knew he truly was crazy.
As she lifted a fry to those pretty lips of hers, she glanced over at his table. She stilled before she sent him a shy smile.
Andrian couldn’t breathe. All the air was gone. No, that wasn’t correct — she was the air, and he wasn’t close enough to her.
Then she glanced away and looked down at her food.
He blinked, trying to clear the cotton from his head. Was he having an episode of madness? It didn’t feel like any that he’d experienced before. Where was the anger, the frenzy, the wild mirth? This wasn’t normal, either, though. He didn’t act this way, not around any woman, let alone a human one.
As he looked down at his plate, all appetite vanished. What was he doing here? Why hadn’t he left? Though he’d hated much of his life on Eria, he’d known what to expect. Here, he knew nothing and was adrift.
However, he was sure that inviting her over for ... for a what? A chat? Well, whatever it could be termed, it would be a bad idea. What would he even talk to her about? This modern Earth was foreign to him, and he certainly could mention little of himself that would be true. Even if he could, he’d sound more insane than he already was.
Resolutely, he sat his fork down. Time to leave. Before he could move, a groan from Livvy’s table snagged his attention. A fierce scowl turned down the corner of her lips as she glanced at her phone. Underneath her displeasure, though, lurked a worry that seared him in a way that shouldn’t have been possible. He didn’t even know her.
Her phone rang, and she stared at it, indecision clear on her lovely face. After the third chime, she swiped at the screen and lifted the device up to her ear. “What do you want?”
Andrian felt his brows lift. Her normally cheery tone was frosted with a chill designed to rebuff. Wariness and a good helping of hostility also lurked there. Just who was she talking to?
Her face grew darker as she listened to whatever was being said. She shook her head as if the person at the other end could see it. “No, don’t come here. Don’t you —” With a growl of frustration, she tossed the phone down before slouching in her seat. “Damn him.”
So it was a he. Something tightened painfully in his chest, and he absently rubbed at the spot. Whoever had called her, she was quite unhappy with.
Uncertainty gripped him. Maybe he should stay for a bit and see if he needed to thrash an impudent mortal man. If there was one thing he was good at, fighting was it. He’d be happy to provide a demonstration of — No, it’d be an unwise idea to become involved in human affairs that didn’t pertain to the fated true mates.
Livvy vacated her chair and walked slowly toward a middle-aged lady who stood at a table, speaking to an elderly couple. After a few seconds, Livvy touched the older lady’s arm. “Evelyn, can I steal you away for a moment?”
The salt-and-pepper-haired woman turned a kind smile her way. “Sure, sweetie. What’s it about?” she asked, stepping a few feet away from the people with whom she’d been conversing. Now, Livvy and the woman stood closer to his table than the couple’s, though they didn’t appear to realize it.
Livvy released a ragged sigh and tugged at her ponytail, which rested over one shoulder. “Devin just texted and then called when I didn’t reply. I’m pretty sure he’s been drinking. He says he’s coming here.”
The dread lining her shaking voice matched the fear on her face. Both hit him starkly. Without being fully aware of his next actions, he leaned forward as if preparing to push from his seat.
Evelyn sucked in a sharp breath. “When do you think he’ll get here, and how do you think he’ll act?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t sound happy, and he’s either a really happy drunk, or he’s not.”
A concerned frown broke out on the older woman’s lips. “I could let you go home, but I’d hate for you to come across him while outside. Since he hasn’t technically done anything wrong yet, I hate to call the police. Unless you have a restraining order?”
“No, I was thinking about it but was hoping I could handle him myself. Guess I should’ve known better.”
“We can’t always predict what others will do.”
&n
bsp; “Yeah, that’s true,” Livvy said, sadness leaking from her.
Andrian’s pulse sped. He could do something — offer to help. But if he did, he knew how easy it was to become embroiled in matters that didn’t concern him. Again, why was he so worried about a human woman with whom he’d only shared a handful of sentences?
Before he even consciously realized it, he was standing. His feet propelled him forward. Damnation, what was he doing?
“If I may be of service, I might be able to help.”
Both women swung toward him, startled.
Livvy licked her lips in a nervous gesture. “You can?” After a hesitation, she asked, “Are you a police officer?”
“Something similar — I’m in security.” The lie, though it felt odd on his lips, tripped off easily enough. Too easily, in fact. When Caralyn had only half-jokingly suggested he and Eamon say they owned a security business, he hadn’t given much thought about it. Now, he found it quite apropos.
A hopeful expression lit up Evelyn’s face. “Oh, do you mind sticking around for awhile?”
“Not at all.” What was he saying? He minded — or at least he should.
A faltering smile passed across Livvy’s face. “Thank you, I hope we won’t need your help, but if we —”
The front door to the café thudded open, squeaking loudly in protest against its overstretched hinges. All eyes turned toward the sound. A man strutted — well, attempted to strut — in, but his unsteady, lurching gate ruined the intended effect. Andrian’s lips curled as he took in the disheveled form of the brown-haired man. So this was Devin? Not quite as human as he’d expected. If he wasn’t mistaken, the man had at least one parent who was a holdout, which was unfortunate. He so disliked giving a thorough beating to a kinsman, distant though that tie may be.
As soon as the drunkard’s gaze alighted on Livvy, the imbecile threw his shoulders back and puffed out his chest. He did preening birds everywhere a disservice.
Andrian stood in front of Livvy, but she stepped out in front of him. She glared at Devin, and though she pasted on a brave face, barely perceptible tremors coursed through her. “What do you want? I’m working, and unlike some people” — she deepened her glare — “I need this job.”