by Thia Mackin
“I came home fucked up, and I almost destroyed my family picking shitty fights. Alika and I never really got along after she returned from the Fatih Sithen, but after I got back from war… It’s not Li’s fault—I know it’s not—but every time I looked at her, I could feel the water filling up my lungs. Her Gift is Water. She has the control to drown a man without…” He swallowed. “I still can’t look at her sometimes.”
As he reached behind us to pull a cover over us, the light showed how hard his hands shook. I wanted to touch him, but the uncertainty of whether it would help or not caused me to wait. “I am so sorry, Rankar. And I don’t have the words to even explain how much I wish that had never happened—to anyone, but especially not you. But I do have some things to say.”
Lowering my legs, I straightened my aching one to a less severe angle, making sure our knees still touched. “Maybe you were right when you said I haven’t lived in the way you mean, because I dedicated my life to battle and death. I’ve moved from one job to another. So when I lay in bed at night wondering what you were doing, it made no sense. We’d seen each other for maybe three conscious hours. And after we…spent more time together, I missed the hell out of you. When I walked farther and faster, I wanted you to be with me. When Hypnos acted silly, I wanted to hear your laughter. I even wanted to see the face you make when I do something you think is too much for my stage of healing.”
My hands shook now too. The emotional toll of this conversation would take a while to wear off. However, I needed him to understand.
“I’m selfishly glad I didn’t meet you before, Rankar. I never could have competed with Bridget, as a woman or a ghost. I jump to conclusions and hate serious conversations and wonder what you are doing with someone like me at almost every turn.” I wiped my sweaty palms against my legs. “But, dammit, if you need someone to hold your hand or guard your sleep, pick me. Pick me. I’ll take your ghosts and nightmares and triggers as long as I get you.” I shrugged, gently setting my hands palm up on his knees. “I love you, Rankar… Even if you’re really old.”
His quiet, self-deprecating laugh lessened the pressure keeping me short of breath. Hands covering mine, he squeezed. “I love you, too, Kinan… even if I’m really old.”
Thanatos landed on his shoulder, front legs on Rankar’s head like a silly hat. He projected an image of Faela and Xander to me. ::Not that old!::
A grin stretched my cheeks. He’d spoken to me! For the first time! Then I remembered overhearing Kismet teasing Xander about his thousand-year-old wife. Definitely not that old.
“Rankar, is that your only issue with our ages?”
He moved his head, trying to dislodge the drakyn. “That’s the one that gnaws at me. Any other concerns I would have if we were mortal, Thanatos just reminded me are stupid. We’re both Tuatha de; even in my own family, our age difference isn’t that extreme.”
Watching his face, I felt the last of the pressure disappear at the honesty reflected back at me. However, we’d waded this far into the muck. While mired, we might as well address the next issue before cleaning up. “When your mom told me to make sure you slept, she wasn’t only talking about how you work too much.” Hypnos crooned in my lap, the sound both mournful and encouraging. “He calls them ‘lots bad sleeps,’ but only because he doesn’t know the word for nightmares.”
I paused, trying to determine the best way to paraphrase my conclusions. When Rankar took a deep breath and exhaled shakily, his nod of agreement was unnecessary.
“If I’m overstepping, you can pass, but…” The words I wanted failed me, so I tried different ones. “If you rest when we sleep together, why aren’t we sleeping together nightly?”
The relief on his face confused me, not fitting the question. The statement, though, was classic Rankar. “Kinan, I don’t want to push for anything you don’t want or aren’t ready for.”
The proper answer found me this time on a frustrated inhale. “I’m glad I’m not the only one in our relationship lacking the sense the Goddess gave a fig,” I muttered and set Hypnos onto the back of the couch. Crawling onto Rankar’s lap, my head tucked comfortably against his neck. If the rumble in his chest was laughter, I’d deck him, so I pretended it wasn’t as my arms wrapped around him in a hug.
He pulled me closer, and Thanatos retreated to join Hypnos.
“Rankar, just tell me which of your beds is most convenient for you, and I’ll be there. It’s no hardship to fall asleep in your arms.”
“Here. We’ll sleep here. My wards already accept you, so you can Gate in and out as you need to.”
I rubbed my cheek against his, enjoying the energy building where our skin touched like a hug for the soul. “You normally go to bed around eleven, right? What time do you want me to come over?”
His hand smoothed down the bare skin of my arm, and I watched him monitor the progress. “I normally am home by six. Six-thirty? Seven?” My mouth gaped, but he continued, obviously thinking. “That gives us time to have dinner and talk and stuff before bed.”
I tried to push the insecurity down, but it somehow came out my mouth. “That’s a lot of time for you to grow tired of me.” My fingers curled around his when they reached my hand. He glanced at me, and I grinned to convince him I didn’t mean it.
His lips touched mine, barely brushing. “A hundred years wouldn’t be enough for that to happen.”
My arms tightened. “Goddess willing, we’ll have thousands.” When he didn’t say anything else, I cleared my throat lightly to interrupt the silence. “Rankar? Thank you for telling me about Bridget and Li and your past.” He met my eyes, and I kissed his chin. “Will you carry me to bed now?”
“I’d love to.”
Chapter 17
Rankar left for Asez Holding ridiculously early, and I sleepily Gated to the Sirach ranch to crawl back into bed. Hours later, I headed to the stables to make sure the guards who’d taken care of the chores hadn’t neglected anything. Chevelle and a new gelding in the stall beside him greeted me with nickers. Crutching over, I patted Chevelle’s neck before eyeing the new boy. He appeared somewhat more Deylura than Arabian, giving him a wider muzzle and larger size. The red coat with black lowlights made him handsome, no matter his breeding. Six of the stalls held mounts from Asez; the others were ranch horses belonging to the Sirach family. Not a full house, but close enough.
However, someone had already cleaned the stalls, and the troughs still held leftovers from their breakfast. Trouble and Cliff followed me to the chicken coop, where I collected eggs in a basket Karyn had found for me to carry over my arm. Before I cleaned and processed them, I moved a bowl of soup from the freezer to refrigerator. Then I crutched to the garden to catch up on weeding.
Sometime after noon, Hypnos appeared with a note sealed by the Donovan crest as I ate the vegetable soup.
Kinan,
I missed watching the sunrise with you this morning.
Rankar
At my request, Hypnos returned with a pen and now-crinkled slip of paper from my bedroom. Smiling, I jotted that I had slept through the sunrise, but it was him that I missed. Then Hypnos disappeared as I finished and carried the bowl to the sink to wash.
Thanatos popped in to deliver another message just after I finished my post-dinner physical therapy exercises. His next day off would be Tuesday. Did I want to spend the day with him then?
Tearing off a small piece, I wrote two words and sent it back with the drakyn. Yes, please.
That night in his arms, I dreamt of running through the desert on two legs—no limp, no crutches—beside a cougar whose light burned away the edges of the darkness.
When I came in for lunch the next day, small noises from the stillroom area drew me deeper into the house. Visible through the open doorway, Karyn pulled items from her bag and carefully sorted them into containers before placing them in the cabinets. “How are things, Kinan?”
“Good,” I admitted, chewing my bottom lip and leaning on the crutches. “Every
thing is good.”
She stopped and looked at me. After a few seconds, she raised her brow. “Out with it.”
“I’m sorry?” For a moment, I tried to remember if I had stepped on any plants or broken anything. All the chores were caught up when she arrived, and the guards had done an excellent job with the horses—as they had done long before me. When my gaze moved back to her, she smiled at me knowingly.
“Kinan, I have five children. I can tell when someone has something on their mind. Would you prefer we move to the kitchen or den?”
“No,” I murmured. “I don’t think moving to a different room will help.”
Dusting her hands off, she stepped away from the counter and motioned me closer. “What is so scary that you can’t even bring yourself to say it?”
She was, but somehow, that didn’t sound like the best lead up to asking for a favor. Instead, I took the requested steps forward. “I love Rankar.”
Her grin was unexpected. “Good.”
“Good?” I repeated, confused. She barely knew me. I barely knew Rankar. How was any of this good?
“Yes. Have you told him yet?”
“I—yes,” I defended, trying to figure out how this conversation went so off the rails.
“Is there something else, Kinan?” she asked softly, prompting me.
“Y-yes. May I… Would you mind if I moved my things into his room?” The words tumbled over themselves, running together. “We agreed that I will sleep mostly at his house, and it will free up the guest room in case you need it for a patient.”
Her lips twitched, but she kept her expression mostly neutral. “As long as you can navigate the stairs, I have no problem with that. You can switch over to the cane today, and if the change doesn’t cause you any issues, we’ll make room in his dresser for your things tonight.”
Her easy agreement surprised me, and I waited for the caveat. However, when I didn’t say anything else, she moved back to her bag of herbs. Turning to go to my room and retire the crutches, I paused in the doorway. “Karyn, I don’t want you to think I’m not happy that you’re okay with me dating your son, but… why are you okay with me dating your son?”
Karyn’s voice held honest confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be okay with you dating my son? You seem to make each other happy; you love each other… what more could I want for him than a strong, intelligent, caring woman who loves him like he loves her?”
“Thank you for telling me,” I managed, leaving quickly before I pushed any further and changed her mind.
Somewhy, the Sirach wards had accepted me. I felt Rankar’s arrival as a flash of heat and comfort through them. How did those kids ever get away with anything? Wards that strong would have told their every move. The thought drew a quick smile as I finished the stall and closed it up. A couple pets to the horse’s neck thanked him for being such a cooperative boy.
The deliberate scuffing sound behind me caused me to turn. “You snuck out early this morning,” he murmured. Hypnos perched on his shoulder, craning his neck toward me. “We worried you’d decided not to keep us, but all your stuff has been moved to my childhood room.”
I grinned, seeing Rankar standing a couple yards away. The sheepish expression on his face caused my grin to fade. My early departure had worried him. Pursing my lips, I gripped the cane tightly in my fist. “I love you, Rankar. And I want,” I snorted slightly, pausing at the accuracy of the odd statement. “I want to keep you and Hypnos and Thanatos and basically your entire family.” After a moment, I repeated it, as much for my benefit as his. “I love you, and I do want to keep you.”
He grinned at me, and I stepped toward him when he didn’t immediately say anything. “Your mom said it was okay. That I moved my stuff into your room, not that I love you, though she seemed okay with that too. I didn’t ask her about keeping anyone, but I think it was implied that I keep you if we are together, and you are pretty close to your family, so—”
His arms wrapped around me, and he covered my lips with his. My hands cupped his cheeks as I kissed him back, stepping closer until his body supported mine. As he backed me into the stall door, someone cleared their throat behind us.
I buried my face in Rankar’s shirt, knowing my pale cheeks would have a heck of a blush. Rankar’s chest shook as he chuckled silently, his palm rubbing up and down my back. The sounds of a horse being quietly saddled and then leaving the barn assured me that we were alone again. “Well, that’s the second time I’ve seen the magical elves that take care of the other ranch work,” I admitted.
“Timing could have been better.” Laughter still tinged his words. “How about a ride?”
Pulling back from his chest, I met his eyes in disbelief. “We were just interrupted here, and your mom is home.”
This time, his humor was not quiet in the least. “An actual ride, Kinan. On horses. Although, I’m willing to risk another interruption if you are…” My hand smacking his arm broke his train of thought. “Okay. Back to horses then.”
Swallowing, my fingers massaged the place on his arm, though I hadn’t done any damage. “Rankar, I haven’t been on a horse since Romtal.”
Understanding filled his eyes, and he hugged me close. “Today is a good day for a short ride. Mom said you’re more mobile than you’ve been since the injury, and the exercises are building your endurance. With what you do, sooner is better than later, yeah?”
His reasoning was sound, and my body was eager to try my seat again. The ache in my heart, not as much. “Let’s give it a try.”
Less than half an hour later, he’d readied Chevelle and the new mount, whose name neither of us knew. The geldings synchronized their pace, neither trying to pull ahead of the other as we urged them away from the sheep herds. At a walk, my injury never twinged—likely owing to the new horse’s smooth motion. “How you feeling?” Rankar questioned, his posture relaxed and hands loose on Chevelle’s reins.
I carefully stood in the stirrups, testing the distribution of weight. “Like we should try a trot, maybe a canter, but probably not a gallop.”
Chevelle sped up, and the red boy easily followed suit. After years in the saddle, my body felt the motion of the horse and posted into the trot. However, only fifteen minutes passed before I urged him into a canter. The change in speed allowed me to transfer the pressure from my knees and thighs to my calves, backing the pain down a notch but not eliminating it. Godsdamnit, I used to ride for twelve straight hours with barely a cramp.
A niggling voice reminded me not to betray Rankar’s confidence that I wouldn’t let stubborn pride push me too far past my ability. Sitting in the saddle, defeated, I slowed the red boy back to a walk. “Let’s turn toward the barn.”
Chevelle followed the red’s lead, again matching the pace without urging. “What do you think of your first ride on an Asez Holding mount?” Rankar asked, meeting my eyes deliberately as he ignored how my fisted hand pressed hard into my thigh.
If lightning didn’t shoot from my toes to my shoulder every other step, I might have teased him. However, banter would have to wait until I could concentrate better. “His gait is smooth, and his temperament gentle. He doesn’t spook easily, but that would be the only benefit he’d have as a warhorse. He and Chevelle would both have their spirits broken in repeated combat. They are meant for owners who ride for the joy of it or even the type of work here—though they’d want to be taken out more often than your ranch hand does the regular horses.”
Rankar patted Chevelle’s neck, and the gelding stepped just a little higher for the next few steps, enjoying the attention. “Good assessment. Rendle—the Tulevi who runs Asez’s stables—said the same thing. The others in our stable all fall under a similar category, and they are waiting until we have the spring sale to clear out room for the newborns.” He stood in the saddle, stretching his legs. “Hopefully, they’ll both find good homes then.”
I resisted the urge to punch the place where the pain had become constant, grateful that the stable was with
in sight. “Are most of the buyers paranormal?”
He shook his head. “Not even half, really. A lot of the paranormal buyers approach privately for the purchases, because they want to take the time to truly explore a bond with the Deylura, something that looks odd to many. However, it is endlessly amusing to watch Rendle tell unEnlightened humans that, no, they cannot buy that horse because that horse thinks he or she is an ass. ‘Pick another or get on.’”
Despite the pain, I grinned. “I like him.”
Rankar snorted. “He’s the best at what he does.”
Dismounting to catch the door, Rankar led Chevelle inside but slowed. “How you feeling?”
Briefly, the urge to tell him I was fine tempted me. However, the lie stalled on my tongue. “Would you mind helping me down?” I managed, a reasonable compromise between ‘I might fall on my butt again if I dismount’ and ‘I’m an idiot.’
He tied Chevelle’s reins off without a word, and a little pressure sent the red boy up beside his buddy. After I handed over the reins, a quick knot and Rankar moved to the stirrup. “What are you thinking, soldier-girl?”
“I’m not, apparently,” I grumbled, frustrated with myself.
“Like we discussed, he’s not easily spooked. If I slip your bad leg free of the stirrup, can you throw your good leg over his neck? Then you can slide down.”
I didn’t argue. “Sure.”
Both feet free of the stirrups, I braced myself for the pain. However, with Rankar steadying me, the maneuver ended with me sitting sideways in the saddle. Then I slid down into his arms. Red boy never twitched.
“That’s a good boy,” I murmured, patting the gelding’s neck as Rankar held me inches from the ground.
“Shucks, thanks,” he whispered, kissing my neck.
I pressed my lips to his forehead. “You, too, love.”
