by Bonnie Vanak
His eyes were slate blue, and his jaw was square and bore graying stubble. His body, clad in a plain white T-shirt and jeans jacket and faded, but clean jeans, was thickset, but not precisely fat.
He had the look of a steelworker who enjoyed downing a Budweiser or two after work, except Stan never drank.
In fact, he didn’t seem to have any obvious vices. He worked as a clerk in an insurance firm and he liked to garden. It was the oddest thing. With those credentials, Ella might have liked him.
Stan might have been borderline handsome if not for his personality. He constantly mumbled about entitled people and tourists and when her mother wasn’t around, even making racial slurs. Once he even suggested that wayward women who didn’t obey their husbands should be punished.
When Nellie was present, Stan changed. He became a polite gentleman, bringing her flowers, doting on her. Never speaking of anything ugly.
Small wonder Nellie adored him. She was starved for attention.
Stan immediately headed for the one good chair now claimed by Darcy. “Off, cat,” he ordered, jerking his thumb.
Darcy hissed at him.
“It’s her home,” Ella reminded him.
“You spoil that damn cat,” he muttered. “Cats belong outside.”
“Darcy is a member of my family.” Ella folded her arms across her chest and gave him a pointed look. “If you don’t like it, you can leave.”
She snapped on the television and turned it to an educational program so she wouldn’t have to talk with the creep.
Stan settled on the sofa, and gave her a dark look. “Be careful, dollface. One day you might come home from work and find your little kitty swimming in the pond. Or lying on the side of the road.”
A chill raced down her spine. She went to the chair, picked up Darcy, stroking her fur. “Good thing I never declawed her. Darcy has defenses of her own. And Mom would never forgive you if you touched Darcy. You may think my mother worships the ground your dirty boots touch, but never forget that I’m first in her life.”
She narrowed her gaze. “So keep your big paws away from my cat.”
A smile touched his face, but never reached his eyes. “Aw, heck, dollface, I was only joking.” He patted the sofa. “Come here and sit by me and tell me how work has been.”
Stan had gotten her the job at the restaurant. She hated that fact, but the tips were excellent.
I’d rather sit atop a pile of live coals. “I’m comfortable here.”
Nellie came into the living room, her hair carefully combed and curled. She wore her good blue dress and cosmetics softened the age lines bracketing her mouth and eyes.
“You look lovely, Mom.”
Nellie flapped a hand. “Oh posh, it’s nothing.” But she beamed.
As her mother went to sit on the sofa next to Stan, Ella took Darcy into her room. Then she locked the door and pocketed the key, a habit since the creep had started showing up more and more lately. Darcy had water, and there was a litter box in the closet.
She’d be safe here.
When she went back into the living room, the television still blared, but her mother and Stan were kissing. They didn’t even look up as Ella grabbed her backpack.
“I’m out of here,” she announced to no one listening.
They kept kissing. It was as if Stan cast a love spell on her desperate, lonely mother. If this is was sex is all about, losing your common sense and forgetting your own daughter, I’ll take being a virgin, thank you very much.
So much for the job. She doubted her mother would make it to work on time.
Disgusted, Ella slammed the door behind her and headed for her bike. Her mother would end up having sex with Stan. Good thing her heart was strong enough for that.
Ella pedaled out of the driveway, the wind whipping her hair as she raced toward the restaurant in town.
Was her life ever going to change?
4
The following morning, Kieran was ready for the world and his assignment.
So the wizards said.
Tonight they planned to accompany him to dinner at the restaurant where Ella worked. He was free for the day to do as he pleased.
“As long as it does not involve nudity,” Xavier had warned.
With the aid of a little magick, they got him fully up to speed on contemporary America. The blizzard of changes in technology and people themselves astounded him. In the Winter Kingdom, change happened at a glacial pace. Magick was constant, steady and reassuring.
This world had a dizzying array of technology, from palm-sized objects called cell phones that demanded everyone’s attention, to machines that flew in the air like angry bees and took overhead photos.
“Drones,” he muttered, climbing into the car Xavier had conjured for him.
He started the engine, and it purred. The Jaguar, for what else would he drive, pulled forward with a jerky motion as he drove out of the parking lot.
Kieran had used the machine called a laptop and the service called the internet to do something called Googling the area. He found the local academic library and plugged the address into the Jag’s GPS.
The car could almost drive itself.
At the imposing stone building, he parked and walked inside, jingling his keys. Several patrons frowned at him. Kieran pocketed the keys and headed for the front desk.
An attractive blonde, her hair pulled back into a severe bun, glanced up. “May I help you?”
Only last week he might have suggested she could help him in bed. But after meeting Ella, he had no desire to even flirt with other women.
“I understand you have a section for ancient manuscripts dating back to the 7th century,” he told her. Or beyond. Manuscripts that have to do with a certain prophecy and the will of the goddess Danu.
The woman looked him up and down, and then her gaze widened as it fell on the leather bracelet around his wrist. “Yes, we do. Special access only. Our secret archive room is specially climate-controlled to preserve the manuscripts. ”
She leaned on the counter, displaying her ample cleavage. “But you seem quite special, so you may gain entrance.”
Uncomfortable with her scrutiny, he nodded. This woman had a touch of Fae in her, along with shifter blood he did not recognize. And did not trust. It mattered not how lovely she appeared.
“Thank you.”
“My name’s Danica.” She smiled at him and whispered the code to unlock the door downstairs. “The room has little lighting and is air-tight with low oxygen.”
“Because humidity and heat can ruin vellum and parchment,” he finished.
“You certainly know your ancient documents, Mr…”
“Thrace.”
Danica lowered her voice. “The books you seek are in the very back. There’s another door you have to enter.”
She gave him the code. Kieran memorized it.
“My assistant is working there. You will find the books quite useful. And, Mr. Thrace?”
He turned.
“Enter the second code with your left wrist. The one with the leather band.” She pointed to the bracelet Gideon had placed there. “That will gain you access to the special books you seek.”
Thanking her, Kieran headed to the elevator. As he walked, he felt her gaze burn into his back.
Inside the elevator, he fought the urge to bolt, his jaguar snarling to be free of this tiny cell that moved up and down. He knew the beast feared and hated confining spaces because of the past, and it took all the man’s logic and reasoning to combat the instinct.
When the doors opened in the basement, he stepped out of the elevator, his senses glad for escaping.
The basement was cool and the overhead lighting dim, round dome lights like the ones in his car. He walked between the tall stacked bookcases, calm descending upon him. This area of the library smelled like age and knowledge, two things he was intimately acquainted with.
At least here he could feel safe, and comfortable for a few hours,
away from the rush of the outside world.
Halfway through the basement was a thick glass wall, protected by a door with a keypad by it. Kieran punched in the code given to him using his left hand.
Soon as the door closed behind him, he felt the restrictive lack of air. He steadied himself and counted to ten. Being confined in this darkened room with low lighting was like being placed inside a glass cage.
That had already happened to him once. Never again. His jaguar growled, itching to be free of this place, much as his beast loathed elevators.
He inhaled the smell of parchment and leather, assuring his beast that this was a voluntary cage.
The archives were like a fortress bunker more suitable to sheltering people from overhead bombings, the impact glass housing them hard to break as he pressed his fingers against it. Still, it was no match for magick. He could use his strength to break it, if necessary.
Kieran took another deep breath, adjusted his eyesight to the lighting, and proceeded.
The beast calmed as the man’s delight in the treasures here became more obvious. The room seemed to stretch for nearly a mile, containing shelves containing scrolls and thick leather-bound volumes. Wearing the gloves Danica provided, he picked one up and saw it was a parchment letter penned by a 10th century prince.
Written in Latin, it detailed the longing of the prince to unite his kingdom with a rival’s.
He set it down carefully. All his years in the Winter Kingdom, he’d spent time at the king’s library, learning several ancient languages now considered dead in the Skin World. It was how he’d learned to escape tight situations in the past on Earth.
The tall shelving ended, blocked by another, even thicker, glass wall with a formidable door. Cabinets and shelving lay beyond the door and he could see the soft glow of a light peeking between the stacks.
Kieran remembered to enter this code with his left hand. The keypad lit up with a soft white glow, sparkling like fairy lights. He grinned.
So, not an ordinary archive room, but one containing writings for Others. Excellent.
He headed for the light at the end of the shelving.
The shelving ended, giving way to a section of tables with lamps upon them. At one table sat a certain becoming brunette, her head bent over a large book about half the size of the table. A cylindrical object and a notebook were beside the book, along with a pen, as if she’d been jotting down information.
Not wishing to alarm her, he cleared his throat. “Hello. Am I disturbing you?”
Ella whipped her head up, her gaze filled with mistrust, and then pleasure and then wariness. “Hi, Sir Kieran. How did you get access?”
“Learning. Or trying to learn. Ancient languages are my specialty.”
“I didn’t even hear you.” She shook her head. “Talk about being absorbed in my work.”
And you would never hear me, except in your wolf form. I have spent centuries perfecting the art of stealth. He indicated an empty seat across from her. “May I?”
At her nod, he sat down. “Why are you here alone?” He peered at the dark corners, the shadows in the stacks. “There are too many areas where a predator could hide.”
“Danica never grants access to anyone.” She peered at him. “I’m surprised she gave you the code for this room. She never grants it to anyone but me.”
He wondered how Ella had gained access if she had not used the magick code. “Who lets you into this room?”
“Danica does. She has tight control over this section.”
It made sense. The female called Danica probably had to use her own Other DNA imprint to open the door.
“I’m a scholar of ancient languages.” Kieran frowned. “But what if another man who intended to harm you walked back here?”
A grim smile touched her face as she lifted a leather bag to the table. The shining gun she pulled from the bag gleamed beneath the table lamp.
“Meet my friend, Smith and Wesson. I have a concealed carry permit and I’m a good shot. My boss knows and approves, too. Although I don’t know if this would fire in low oxygen, I figure the threat would give me enough time to get away.”
Relief filled him. She was not unarmed, although that weapon would prove ineffective against strong, dark magick. “Good. Where is your boss?”
“Upstairs at the main desk. She is concealed carry as well, helped me train on the gun range. Danica is really pretty, so she’s had to deal with asshole men who don’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
“Ah, the blonde who gave me the code. Yes, I can see how most men would find her attractive.”
Ella glanced away, her mouth tightening. “Of course they do.”
“But I am not ‘most men.’ She is not, as they say, my type.”
Now her gaze returned to him, filled with curiosity. “What type of woman is?”
“Your type.” He saw no reason to lie. “Beauty and brains.”
She snorted, as if disbelieving him. Terrific. Perhaps he could approach her as a friend. Certainly he was quite interested in why she sequestered herself here, with only ancient magick books for company.
And she wasn’t even aware they were volumes of magick for Others.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Working. This is my part-time job. Danica hired me to scan manuscripts.” She held up a cylindrical device. “These are fragile pieces of parchment, so I take this scanner, and it takes a photo of the page and stores it digitally.”
Fascinating. There were good things about this new technology that continued to baffle him, despite Xavier and Gideon’s assistance.
“This is a good place.” He inhaled a lungful of parchment-scented air. “A place of ancient wisdom.”
Ella smiled. “I’ve always thought so. One reason I continued to work here, even after I had to quit school.”
Propping his chin upon his fists, he studied her. “What did you wish to learn, and why did you have to quit school?”
Ella didn’t answer at first, only continued to run the wand across the page.
“Why did you have to quit?” This time, he put a tendril of magick into his voice, compelling her to talk. The TruthTalk ability had been honed by his species over the past millennium, a gift from the Winter King for when Kieran caught and interrogated His Majesty’s enemies.
It would not work on Ella once she gained her powers. And in this atmosphere, with its oppressive magick warding to prevent Others from exercising much power, he doubted it would work effectively.
But she lifted her head and looked wistful and longing. Either Ella was susceptible to his suggestion because she hadn’t yet matured with her magick, or she was connected to him on a deeper plane.
Probably the former, rather than the latter. He would become her tutor, and guardian and perhaps her lover, but nothing else. Nothing bonding and permanent.
“Money. We had no money after my father died, and I had to go to work to help support my mother and myself.”
He listened intently as she talked about her disappointment at dropping out of school, her fascination with ancient manuscripts and her dream job of taking the old parchment and scanning it for preservation.
Ella leaned across the table. “Can I share a secret?”
Kieran stared at her mouth, wondering if it had to do with kissing. Certainly he’d delight in kissing her here. Or anyplace. Or anyplace on her body. “Of course.”
“I’ve made duplicates of the scans and I’ve taken them home to study on my own. It’s kind of a hobby, trying to decipher the language.” She sighed. “I wish I was faster.”
“Perhaps I can help. I have some knowledge of ancient tongues.”
Like the time he’d kissed the promiscuous, bored wife of a high official in the Winter Kingdom who’d suffered from erectile dysfunction. Her tongue was most ancient. And wicked.
Ella looked eager. “Yes, that would be great.”
She pushed a thick, leather-bound manuscript across the table. “This
page is really vexing me.”
Amused at her terminology, he scanned the parchment. Kieran concealed the shock filling him.
“It’s, ah, a section talking about when ancient beings walked the earth and turned dead humans into living flesh without souls.”
He scanned the rest of the page, the delicately penned words sharp and foreboding. Dread curled through him and his animal side whimpered with pure fear.
Nothing made his jaguar whimper. Not even after Kiera died. The beast had been filled with rage and strength.
“Oh, dear goddess,” he muttered. “Xavier did not warn me about this.”
Ella stared. Realizing she was far too innocent at this stage for such dreadful knowledge, and he could terrify her with the truth, he forced a cheerful grin. “And then they went trick-or-treating and got all sorts of delightful candy.”
Sputtering with laughter, she rolled up a notebook page and tossed it at him. He ducked, his grin wider. “Missed me.”
He dipped his attention to the next page. Surely there was something here that was far more subtle and less threatening. Ah, here.
Kieran beckoned to her. When she joined him, he traced the line with an index finger, careful not to place his warm finger on the page crackling with age. He breathed in Ella’s scent, warm female, musk and crisp, new fallen snow. Heady with her closeness, he forced himself to focus on the words inked on parchment.
Lack of oxygen, he scolded himself. Tis enough to make any man dizzy.
But the sudden surge of arousal had nothing to do with the room, and everything to do with the woman next to him.
“This section here, seriously …”
“Seriously? So says the man who showed up nude at an upscale condo complex and talked to my cat.” Ella rolled her eyes.
“Hush,” he mock scolded. “I am trying to teach you. It reads that the wolf who walks among humans will be the shining light to aid in times in darkness.”
“Huh.” She squatted down next to him. “A wolf that is the savior of mankind. I like that. Especially considering how people think shooting wolves from helicopters is fun sport.”
“Not any wolf, Ella,” he corrected. “The female wolf, who will be larger, stronger and more courageous than ordinary wolves.”
