Col: His Destined Mate

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Col: His Destined Mate Page 11

by Georgette St. Clair


  Instantly the boys quieted down, although they were still looking at her like she was a Sunday Roast and they had been starved for weeks. And here she was, all served up in a kitchen right out of an ad in Architectural Digest. All except for the one who’d starred in her daydreams ever since she’d first laid eyes on him, of course. He looked like he wanted her far, far away from him. Like she was radioactive, or had cooties he didn’t want to catch. Come to think of it, he wasn’t among the ones doing their best imitation of Medieval Frat Boys on Ye Old Spring Breake, Knaves Gone Wild Edition.

  “Listen up,” Miller said, addressing the boys. She had an image of a drill instructor, with his boot camp trainees, and wouldn’t be surprised if that had been what he did. “This here is Ms. Katie Cooper. She’s come all this way to help you, and the least you can do is show some respect. You’re going to properly introduce yourselves to her, and each one of you has to say something about how you’re going to give this your best shot.”

  He stuck his face towards the one closest to him, who had a wide smile, aquamarine eyes and flowing blond hair. “Let’s start with you.”

  Blondie’s eyes glittered with warmth as he held out his hand. Huh, if he knew to shake hands already, he didn’t need her. But as she held out hers, he took it gently, turned it over and bent to press his lips on the back of her hand.

  Oh.

  “Beautiful Katie Cooper, “ he said. “I am called Aylwyn. I am blown away by your beauty, and I will delight in your guidance.”

  The two dark ones started to hoot, and a sharp look from Miller silenced them. Good thing, because she felt herself blushing.

  “Next,” Miller barked, tilting his head towards one of the two dark haired ones. This one had a neatly trimmed beard, and long, dark brown hair that was kept in a loose tie. His arms were crossed. No kiss on the hand from this one.

  “Merek is my name.” Tall, Dark, and Brooding said, “And I thank you for your efforts in aiding us.”

  Next was the dude who was even taller, even darker, and making “brooding” seem downright giddy by comparison. She remembered him as the one she stood near the previous night, because he seemed to be one that was causing the most of the commotion.

  A deep baritone came out of his mouth. “Barric,” he bit out. He didn’t look particularly pleased. “I will endeavor my best.” She was relieved he didn’t ask to take her hand as Aylwyn had. He looked like he would eat it.

  After Barric was the Brad Pitt look-alike who had been quiet the previous night, but only because he was gnawing on a slab of meat, with his bare hands. Shame, because he would be devastatingly attractive otherwise.

  He held out his hand, but only to clasp his large fingers around hers warmly before withdrawing it.

  “I am Tybalt, and I add my thanks to you for your time and patience.” He had a sad, faraway sound in his voice. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been among the catcalls either.

  And then it was time for him. She forced herself to look up into his eyes. Hazel, she thought. He has hazel eyes, with flecks of gold. She had never known hazel to look cold, but these were downright frosty. Or maybe that was the glare he had reserved, just for her.

  “Col,” he said, as if it were painful to speak. His voice was otherwise pleasant, deep and rich even with that one syllable. Even as he went on to say the next words. “I agree that it is a fine idea, worthy of merit.”

  She didn’t realize she was holding her breath.

  Until he dropped the devastating bombshell.

  “If only it were with anyone but you.”

  She was right about him.

  Asshole.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gods, she was even lovelier up close. Her creamy skin had the luster of a sun’s kiss, and she had a lush lower lip that beckoned seductively, the curve of her mouth inviting exploration. Her eyes were the rich color of heartwood from the mightiest oaks, and they flashed now with an anger that amplified her beauty.

  Anger at what Col had voiced aloud, when he should have kept his thoughts confined to his head.

  The problem was, she inflamed and confused his senses, in a way that was dangerous to him and to those who depended on him.

  She would be like oil to the fire that he desperately sought to contain.

  Col needed to stay away from her, in order to be of use to his Bredhren, to be an effective Waryeor for the battle which was nearing. But how could he explain this to her?

  “If you don’t think you can handle it, it certainly wouldn’t be worth your effort.” Her voice was measured, calm, belying the angry flush that tinted her cheeks a becoming pink.

  His Bredhren hooped and hollered, Aylwyn going, “Ohhhh, burn!” which surely meant mockery at his expense.

  Although she was of comely feminine charms, she was no delicate blossom, this Katie Cooper. He would have to find his own way of keeping his distance.

  “I meant no disrespect, milady.” She still had her head tilted upwards, her shoulders tense, but then she nodded stiffly.

  “Apology accepted. And just Katie is fine.”

  Col looked around, and saw that he was not the only one who found her features captivating. Simon had the same frozen look of occasions when he was rendered incapable of speech. Barric and Merek had the look of spotting a wench that they were on the verge of fighting over. Aylwyn, prince of jackals as he was, would swoop in and steal her away from under their very noses. Even Miller seemed appreciative, although it may have also been as much for the fine strength of character that she had just demonstrated. Only Tybalt’s eyes were on Col, rather than on Katie Cooper, with a quiet look of concern.

  Perhaps his Vixar was now more convinced that Col’s usefulness as a Waryeor was nearing its terminus.

  “Simon’s idea is an excellent one. You will work with her,” Tybalt said, his cool gaze boring into Col.

  Col nodded. “As you command,” he said quietly.

  Miller’s voice once again broke through the noise. “Our meal will be ready in a few minutes, as soon as I unpack what I picked up on the way. Col, will you give me a hand getting it out of the car?”

  “Good. Our first lesson then will be on table manners, based on what I observed last night.” Katie smiled, and looked pointedly at Col. “But of course I’ll be placing a special emphasis on good manners in general.”

  Aylwyn, Barric and Merek broke out in laughter again, as Col felt a prickling of heat on the nape of his neck.

  Even Tybalt was smiling, although it was no match for the huge grin that broke across Simon’s face.

  “You handled yourself really well.” Miller was driving Lily back to the Faire grounds in the luxury SUV that he had used to pick her up. Just the interior of the car alone probably cost more than the repairs on her POS car that was currently in limbo.

  “Thanks,” Lily said. “They’re really trying hard, even though it may take a while for them to get accustomed to new ways of doing things that they’ve done for a lifetime. It’s not unlike some of my kids who —” She broke off suddenly, realizing that she was about to give away some of her past.

  Miller didn’t react, keeping his eyes on the road. But she had the sense that he knew more than he let on. And similarly, she felt that he kept confidences very well.

  “Simon mentioned that you have a background in education,” the older man said. Yes, she did share that with Simon the night before. And of course Simon could easily have asked Rika if she hadn’t.

  “Yes, I’ve had experience with kids who come from households where English isn’t the first language. So there’s also a bit of acculturation that has to take place for them too, in the classroom. Although of course, kids are a lot more adaptable.”

  The corner of Miller’s mouth curled upward. “These boys have been through a lot. They learn quickly.”

  Katie thought of their political refugee status, but she knew Miller probably wouldn’t divulge anything. The same way she wouldn’t appreciate him prying about her background.<
br />
  “I get the sense that you’re speaking from first-hand experience.”

  Miller gave a grunt that she took as an affirmative.

  “I’d appreciate if you could share any tips on working with them.” She was willing to bet that he was some sort of instructor as well. Maybe a drill sergeant when he was on active duty.

  He seemed pleased with her request. “Sure I can. People who’ve been trained for combat are a different animal. These boys are the elite of their kind—I can’t give you much more than that, but understand that they’ve seen a lot more of the same kinds of things that can age a man quickly, toughen their souls, forge bonds that are unbreakable. They’re driven by a higher sense of duty and honor that the average civilian might find hard to comprehend. So right off the bat, any objective to make them pass as average civilians is going to present a stiff challenge.”

  Lily nodded. “I really appreciate this insight.” She knew better than to specifically ask about him— Col. That was his name, which she was still unaccustomed to thinking of him as, since “Asshole” seemed a better fit based on his behavior towards her. But probably what Miller had said about all of them went double for him — Col. She’d have to remember that. It wasn’t personal. He didn’t know her enough to dislike her, and besides why should it matter if he did?

  It was a job. She was a teacher. He needed her help. End of story.

  “I’d include Simon in that, too. Especially if you could help him as well. Even though he’s not ever been tested in the military sense, he’s got the heart of a warrior, and the same difficulties in fitting in.”

  Lily had seen his awkwardness in talking with her, but she was still surprised all the same. “He should hear how people on staff talk about him, they revere him, and rightfully so. He’s one of the most generous employers I’ve ever heard of.”

  “He’s a really good kid.” Miller agreed, and Lily got the sense that he had some role in raising him. The pride in Miller’s voice sounded almost paternal.

  “Well, I also appreciate you driving me,” Lily said.

  “It’s not a problem,” Miller replied. “When we get to the Faire, I can plug in Simon’s address to your GPS, and tomorrow I’ll set the house security to recognize you in the driver’s seat for automatic vehicle access.”

  “Oh.” Lily swallowed. “My car’s in the shop. It’s going to be a while until it’s fixed. I could just as easily take a bus or shuttle, or even a bike if those options are available.” Her voice trailed off. “And if I could borrow a bike.”

  Miller smiled. “You won’t need to borrow a bike. But thank you for giving me the intel on your circumstances. And don’t worry about it further. I’ll make sure that you have transportation.”

  Lily was relieved.

  “That’s very generous of you.” She settled back in her seat. It was going to work out. Even if she had to suck it up and work with that asshole. That sexy, rude, surly asshole.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The coppery smell of blood and viscera saturated the small confines of the root cellar. Cadmus breathed it in, satisfied with how the ritual had unfolded the way it was supposed to. Maybe he was at last getting over this magickal affliction. The remains of the hiker were all over the stainless steel table and floor.

  From long experience, he’d lined the floor with plastic drop cloths, and from there it would be a simple matter to gather together the folds and dispose of the bloody aftermath.

  “Time to take out the trash,” he said out loud.

  “Yes, Boss,” Billy Bob shuffled over. He would be disposing of the remains in some abandoned mineshaft, where he swore they wouldn’t be found, at least not in this century. It was perfect. And one of the few, but compelling, reasons to keep putting up with Billy Bob’s stupidity.

  As soon as Billy Bob left to perform his task, Cadmus hid the vial containing the hiker’s life-force energy, drained out of him with much screaming and cries of pain. Cadmus loved the perks of his job.

  Earlier, Jordy had displayed a very useful skill in locating potential hiding places in the rented house. Cadmus made note of them, without letting her know that he would be putting that information to actual use. He knew better than to trust her not to snoop around if she thought there was something to be found.

  It was now time to work on the device that would lead him to the man-wolf, that stunning specimen of life force energy that would surely be a superb coup in the eyes of His Terrible Majesty. He was almost gleeful in the thought of Micah’s jaw dropping in envy, or even better, in humiliation after His Terrible Majesty dismissed him and restored Cadmus to the coveted position by his side.

  But he was getting ahead of himself.

  First, he needed to create that magickal tracker. He would do it in the space still brimming with power, energies raised from the successful ritual that had just taken place.

  He pulled out the pendulum he had purchased from that awful shop with the dreamcatchers and tarot cards with dressed up cats. It was the same one that had spoken to him, that had pointed out the arrival of Jordy. It would be the perfect receptacle for this spell, and lead him to where he could find the man-wolf.

  It tingled in his hand, ready to be programmed with his intent.

  But it was only part of what was needed. Cadmus hoped and prayed to The Infernal Gods with every fiber of his being, that the microscopic traces of the creature’s blood he had managed to scrape up would be enough.

  Even for one attempt, that’s all he needed. Please, please, please, please….

  Cadmus poured the oil he had prepared into a small chalice, mixing in the herbs and resins he had acquired from the horrible store. Some of the life-force energy that he had set aside from the hiker was then added to the mix, almost animating it. He tapped in the microscopic traces of blood, and when he was done, he took a knife that he had set aside, and cut the underside of one of his forearms near his wrist. The dark crimson blood dripped into the chalice, forming a pretty pattern in the oil, before he dipped the point of the knife into it, stirring it into a kaleidoscope of magickal ingredients.

  He began intoning the ancient syllables of the chant, from a language that had been lost to the larger world. As his voice swelled, it was time to lower the pendulum into the mixture. As the point entered, it seemed to suck up the liquid into it. Soon, there was only the sound of its tip delicately hitting the bottom of the chalice, the incantation finished, the spell cast.

  The pendulum was charged with intent. It only needed to be fed moonlight overnight to power it for a single attempt. And then, Cadmus would find that magnificent creature, as an offering worthy of His Terrible Majesty.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As Col paced in the spacious living room, the late afternoon sun was still shining into through the glass doors that led to the backyard and woods beyond.

  Katie Cooper had come back for another “coaching” session, which meant that all of his senses were hyper-acute and liquid heat ran through his veins. She had gone to use what she laughingly referred to as “the loo”. She’d been coming to Simon’s house every evening, for the last three days.

  He was trying to stay away from her, truly he was. That is what a true Waryeor would do - avoid all distractions. Being near her was pleasure and torture at the same time. She made him ache in every fiber of his being. He did not deserve relief; he was not bred to be soft, to indulge himself, to shy away from pain.

  The Waryeor race had been created with one purpose: to serve the Wise and Kind, the rulers of Arengard. The great-great-great-great grandparents of The Sorceress of Plenty had sacrificed their life force to create the Waryeors, giving them strength and powers that would defeat their enemies. Arengard was long gone now, lost to history, but the mission remained the same: protect the innocent against evil. And The Dark Warlord, who would be awakening soon, or would have awakened already, was the ultimate evil.

  What right did Col have to think of happiness, when such a fight was looming?
/>   But his gaze caught upon her loveliness each time she was near, as inevitable as a bee drawn to flower. Each time that happened, Col steeled his resolve, and removed himself even further.

  The others had noticed the tension that crackled between Col and Katie Cooper, as they had witnessed the first exchange between them the other night. They had no such issue with her. They formed their own bonds with her, especially golden-haired Aylwyn, upon whose countenance she graced with a look of delight each time he babbled out some fresh nonsense.

  Col had never felt such enmity before towards a Brodher.

  Barric struggled to stay his hand, as Barric and Aylwyn’s argument was quickly escalating, soon to erupt into a brawl. It was over something trivial that he did not catch, nor did he care to know.

  Katie Cooper came back into the living room. Barric and Aylwyn were snarling at each other now, literally growling, fists clenched, teeth bared. Her warm eyes, filled with sharp intellect and compassion, quickly assessed the situation.

  “Aylwyn, Barric, would you come help me, please. I dropped something behind that large steamer trunk in the hallway. Would you come help me move it?”

  “Of course, fair lady!”

  “We shall be pleased to help.” Aylwyn and Barric were practically jostling each other to assist her, their previous animosity forgotten.

  Her eyes met Col’s, and for a split second that magnetism was there again. One of the Bredhren blocked her from sight, and broke the connection, freeing Col to look away.

  He paced the room, willing himself to calm down. His senses were all frenetic again, as if that look had inflamed him all over. He needed to get away, stay away—

  And they were back. Aylwyn and Barric walking into the room, laughing about who was better able to lift the heavy antique container with a single hand.

  “Although it was a shame that naught was to be found behind it.” Barric rumbled, in his rich baritone.

  “That’s because I didn’t have anything there,” Katie Cooper said. Col’s ears perked up at the sound of her voice, a most pleasing sound. “That was a distraction technique. It’s what I have to do with my preschoolers when they get into a fight. Now think about that.”

 

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