He’d known he wouldn’t be able to fight forever. But he’d expected to last longer before his abilities began to fail him. He’d always thought his speed would be the first to go.
Not being able to concentrate? To maintain focus? He hadn’t counted on that.
It made him feel…washed up. Useless.
Like quitting was his only option.
Grom whined, drawing Van’s attention away from his troubles and back to reality. “What is it, pup?”
Grom got up and whined again.
“You have to go out?”
“I’ll take him.”
Van glanced back to see Lisa standing near the breakfast bar. Her plate sat on the counter, the steak only half eaten.
She’d had her dinner there.
He was a bad host. Not that he’d asked her to come, but still, his mother would be unhappy if she knew how he’d treated this woman who probably hadn’t asked to be sent here either. “Thank you. That is very kind of you.”
She gave a quick little half smile. “No problem. Where’s his leash?”
“Closet by the door.”
“Okay, I’ll find it.” She patted her leg. “C’mon, Grom. Let’s go outside.”
Grom looked at Lisa, then looked at Van and sat down.
Van pointed toward the door. “Grom, gulyat.”
Grom got up and trotted toward the door like he’d been told.
Lisa’s brows lifted like she was impressed. “Back in a bit.”
He watched her go. She was very pretty. And kind. Which was more than he’d been since she’d arrived. He sighed. Changing his mood wasn’t an easy thing to do, but he would do his best to be nicer. After all, she was just doing her job.
He leaned back, ignoring the game. It was only a few days. He would get through this. Then he could go back to being cranky and alone.
A few minutes later, the door opened and they returned. A happy Grom came running over to Van and started sniffing around.
Lisa closed the door. “He’s a really well-behaved dog. He did his business and came right back in.”
“For that, he gets a cookie. Jar on counter.”
“Okay. The one marked cookies, I take it?”
“Yes.”
She got the treat out. “Here, Grom. Come get your cookie.”
This time, Grom went to her without hesitation.
Van snorted. Food apparently helped erase her stranger status in Grom’s eyes.
She finished up with Grom, then walked toward the stairs. “I’m going to head up. I know it’s early, but I’m a little tired from traveling. I’ll see you in the morning. Thank you for dinner.”
He nodded. “Good night.”
“Good night.” She climbed the steps, giving him another chance to admire her form.
He liked women. Loved them. But he wasn’t sure why he’d developed this sudden fascination with Lisa. Maybe it was just because he hadn’t been this near to a woman, other than Pandora, in a long time.
If so, that was a sad commentary on his life. Had he really been alone so long that the first pretty woman who entered his domain brought his desires to life?
He turned the sound down on the television.
As a dragon, he was two things. A protector and a destroyer. It made for a hard life at times. A life many chose to live alone because it was easier.
But those of his kind who had found someone to spend their days with…they were happy. He’d seen it with his own eyes in the lives of his parents.
He’d never really contemplated such a future for himself, and yet now, hours after Lisa had shown up, he found himself doing just that.
Pandora would have a lot to say about that. Which was why he wouldn’t be telling her a word of this.
He turned the television off, grabbed his crutch, and stood up. He took his plate into the kitchen. Lisa’s was already in the dishwasher. Appetite gone, he put the other steak away, then limped back out to the living room. “Grom, bed.”
The dog followed him into the guest room and settled onto the big cushion Van had brought along from the upstairs move, turning three times before lying down.
Van brushed his teeth and got ready for bed, chucking his T-shirt into the hamper. He sat down on the edge of the bed and went through the tedious task of taking off the brace, keeping his leg straight. He shucked his sweat pants, then stared at his injured knee.
Purple bruising was visible at the edges of the bandages meant to help with the swelling. Under that wrapping, he knew exactly what the skin looked like. Two large, matched semicircles of puncture wounds, the marks of Ronan’s bite.
The scars would look the same. Not angry and red, but they’d remain. A permanent reminder of the day he’d become…less.
He turned the light off and lay down on the bed, putting one arm under his head. He gazed up at the ceiling and repeated the ritual that had robbed him of a decent night’s sleep every evening since the injury. Reliving the fight. Each move of his, each move of Ronan’s. The pull to look up. The flash of light. The intense pain.
Then a new thought crept in, one he probably would have had sooner had he not been so wrapped up in his own misery. One that probably wasn’t going to help him sleep either.
Directly above him, the very pretty Lisa was in his bed.
Monalisa had never slept in such a large bed. Well, she wasn’t sleeping now, but that was the end goal. Exhaustion pulled at her, making her feel like she was processing everything at an incredibly slow speed, but somehow it wasn’t enough to help her sleep.
Instead, she just sprawled there, trying not to think about how this was where Van slept. The strange man she just met hours ago. The very man she was supposed to be bending to her will.
Trying not to think about him meant that was all she could think about, and it was just so odd her brain couldn’t let go of it. Finally, she gave in, hoping her brain would get tired and shut down.
Van wasn’t as bad as she’d imagined he’d be, but he wasn’t the nicest person she’d ever met either. She wondered if part of his temper wasn’t just because he’d been dealt such a blow. She understood what it was like to be kept from the life you wanted. And she imagined how much more it must hurt to be kept from that life when you’d been allowed to experience it.
More than that, Van was kind of the rock star of the TFL, according to his file. He’d been undefeated until this last match, and the loss hadn’t been by knockout or points or however fights were decided, but because he’d been so badly injured, there was no other option than to call the match.
An injury she’d caused.
She closed her eyes, but the pit in her stomach remained. She hated what her father had made her do almost as much as she hated her inability to ignore his commands. But it was even worse that someone else had been hurt because of what she’d been forced into doing.
Van might be a grump, but he was an innocent grump. He didn’t deserve to have his life taken away from him.
She didn’t blame him for not wanting to fight again.
Suddenly, she sat upright. What if he couldn’t fight again? Was his injury that bad? She knew from his file that he’d been bitten by the other fighter, a manticore, a very deadly mytho, which was how her father referred to that class of supernaturals. She’d also read that manticore venom was incredibly strong and the effects would stay in the victim’s bloodstream for up to a month.
Van was only two weeks out from the fight. Maybe the venom was making him cranky? That was definitely a possibility.
She felt for the guy. His career was over—as far as he was concerned. He was probably in constant pain, he’d lost his undefeated status, and the scars from that bite would stay with him the rest of his life, an ever-present reminder of the day his life had taken a dramatic downturn. For a moment, she thought about marching downstairs and confessing everything.
For the first time since she’d arrived, she smiled. That would be so nice.
But then she sighed and lean
ed forward, putting her face into her hands. Her father would never give her a coin then. He’d force her to bend Van to her will, and he’d end up back in the ring either way. Not to mention she couldn’t even imagine how he’d respond to the truth about why she was here.
If he’d been cranky before, he’d go ballistic hearing that. Considering his general mood, it was kind of amazing he’d even let her into his house. Especially since she no longer thought he had an ulterior motive due to recognizing her.
She flopped back down to stare at the ceiling some more. It was nice he had Grom. He was a good dog, and he’d been so well behaved when she’d taken him outside. He’d really changed her mind about dogs. Especially when she’d discovered he liked his ears rubbed. The look on his face, eyes closed, mouth partially open, could only be described as euphoric. It was sweet and silly, and when she’d stopped, Grom had pushed his big head into her hand as if asking for more. He’d won her over big-time.
Maybe when she had her own life, she’d get a dog too. Just a small one, though. The companionship would be nice. So would the unconditional love.
She sighed again. Getting that life meant forcing Van into the ring one more time. How on earth was she going to do that without using her powers?
Maybe things would be different tomorrow. Maybe they’d have some kind of breakthrough in pretend therapy and he’d suddenly want to fight again.
She snorted softly. And maybe her father would just give her a coin like he should have done years ago.
The image of the coin floated elusively in her mind, the shiny gold mesmerizing her with the promise it held. She clung to that promise. It kept her going. Because without it, she’d be just as miserable as Van.
No, one day she’d have a life, with her own apartment and friendly neighbors and a dog and…
She opened her eyes and saw daylight. She’d actually fallen asleep. But the light was strong, stronger than it ought to be for first thing in the morning.
She checked her phone. It wasn’t first thing in the morning, it was a quarter after nine. Swamp water! She should have been up and moving by eight, at least. She hopped out of bed, grabbed some clothes, and ran to the shower.
Seven minutes later, she was out, had some makeup on, and was dressed for the day. Her hair was damp, but that couldn’t be helped. She couldn’t afford to take any more time getting ready, or Van would think the League had sent him a slacker of a therapist.
She hit the steps, and soft voices met her ears. Van’s and someone else’s. A woman. Pandora?
Monalisa jogged the rest of the way down to the living room.
Van and an older woman were in the kitchen. He was seated at the breakfast bar, his back to Monalisa, and the older woman leaned against the center island.
Van turned as Monalisa walked toward them. “Morning.”
“Morning. Sorry I slept so long, I—”
He raised his hand. “It is not a problem. Time change, yes? Also, unfamiliar bed. Understandable.”
Wow. That was unexpected. She nodded. “Yes, it was a combination of those things.”
He gestured toward the older woman. “This is Norma Turnbuckle. She is my housekeeper.”
“Hi, Norma. I’m…Lisa.” She’d almost said Monalisa. “I’m Ivan’s rehab therapist.”
“He told me.” Norma gave Monalisa a smile. “And this morning, I’m also the short-order cook. What’ll it be? Eggs? Pancakes? Frittata?”
“I, uh…” Monalisa looked at Van. “Did you eat already? What did you have?”
He smiled a little. “What else? Steak and eggs.”
“Of course.” She laughed. “Whatever’s easiest, really. Or I can cook my own. That’s not a big deal. I don’t want to be a burden.”
“Pfft. No burden. I’m a hobbit, taking care of people is what we do,” Norma said. “How about a veggie omelet? Van said you like the green stuff.”
“That would be great, except I don’t think those ingredients exist in this house.”
Norma laughed. “Not normally they don’t, but I did the shopping this morning according to what Van told me.”
Monalisa looked at him again. “That was so kind of you.”
He shrugged and sipped his coffee. “You are my guest, and I was not hospitable. All different today.”
“Thank you.”
“And please, call me Van. Everyone does.”
“Okay. Van it is.”
Norma pulled out a pan, then pointed with her spatula toward the end of the breakfast bar. “Fix yourself some coffee, and I’ll have this whipped up in a jiffy.”
“I don’t suppose you have creamer.” She didn’t remember seeing any in the fridge last night, but then, she hadn’t specifically been looking for that.
“In the icebox,” Norma said.
Monalisa couldn’t help but smile as she found a mug, filled it with coffee, and stirred in some sugar (from a bowl she also hadn’t seen last night). Norma might have said she was a hobbit, but she seemed more like a magical house elf to Monalisa.
The fruit dish on the island was new too, because there was no way there’d been a giant platter of bananas, oranges, apples, and pears in here last night. Next to it was another bowl with tomatoes, onions, and sweet and regular potatoes.
Ivan—no, Van—wasn’t kidding about today being different. At least from a dining perspective.
She went to the fridge for creamer and sucked in a gasp as she opened the door. The thing was stocked with all kinds of food that wasn’t just slabs of meat. Three types of lettuce and a whole slew of other salad fixings. Plus, two kinds of juice, bags of carrot and celery sticks, an assortment of cheeses, olives and pickles, lunch meat, a container of deli coleslaw, and in front of it all, a large container of creamer.
Monalisa took it out, added some to her coffee, then put it back, finally turning to face Norma again. “You really stocked this place up.”
Norma nodded as she tipped a bowl with beaten eggs into the pan where an assortment of veggies sizzled away. “There’s more in the pantry too. Chips, cookies, bread for sandwiches, muffins, granola bars, popcorn. Snacky things. I didn’t know what all you liked, and Van wasn’t much help beyond vegetables, so I just took a stab at it.”
“That’s amazing. Thank you both.” Monalisa glanced at Van. Hmm. Calling him that was going to take some getting used to. It wasn’t so different sounding, but it was so much more casual. Like they were friends. And that felt like such a lie on her behalf.
But she would try, because it was what he wanted.
He looked pleased with himself, and she thought that was fitting. He had a right to after doing all this for her. She couldn’t remember when someone had made such an effort on her behalf.
Someone who wasn’t trying to win favor with her father.
The thought sobered her, and she drank her coffee to cover the sudden loss of her smile. Van doing all this for her seemed to underline how awful her true motive was.
“Oh, one more thing,” Norma said, adding cheese to the omelet. “Van, I got that champagne you asked for. It’s also in the pantry.” She turned to see him. “Or did you want that cold?”
He looked stumped. “I don’t know.” His gaze shifted to Monalisa. “Should champagne be cold if it is a gift?”
“I feel a little lost. Who is it a gift for?”
“Pandora. For the housewarming tonight.”
“Oh, that’s a nice gift. If it’s for them to drink tonight, then probably cold. If it’s for them to drink any time, then I don’t think it matters.”
“Hmm. I do not know what they’ll want. Maybe it should be cold.”
Monalisa set her coffee down. “I’ll get it. Where’s the pantry?”
Norma pointed with her elbow. “That door there.”
Monalisa had thought that was for the downstairs. There was definitely a lower level, but as she hadn’t been given the tour, she had no idea how to get there. Not that she needed the tour. She went into the pantry, once again
amazed by the amount of food that Norma had brought in, and looked for the champagne.
Her eyes widened in surprise when she spotted it. Two bottles of really, really good stuff. But what else would Van want for his friend? Money was clearly not an issue when it came to looking after those he cared for.
She picked the two bottles up by the necks and hesitated. For a second, she’d included herself in that group. But that was ridiculous. He didn’t care about her any more than he cared about the man on the street. He was just being hospitable, in his own words.
With a shake of her head, she came back out, nudging the door shut with her foot. “I’ll stick these in the fridge.”
“Good,” Norma said. “Then you can eat. Your omelet’s ready.”
Van drank the last of his coffee, watching Lisa over the top of the mug. She looked a little different this morning than she had last night. He couldn’t quite figure out what had changed, but she seemed…more approachable.
Prettier than he remembered too. Which was odd, because he’d thought her pretty as soon as he’d seen her. But today she looked softer. Maybe it was her hair. It was drying in loose, fiery waves that hadn’t been there yesterday, and they framed her face like one of the women in the portraits painted by the old masters.
Whatever it was, he was pleased that he’d had the idea to text Norma last night about getting groceries and making breakfast, because if it had been up to him, it would have just been coffee and last night’s steak with half a dozen eggs. Which was what he’d had anyway, minus the chunk of steak that had gone into Grom’s bowl.
He put his cup down as Lisa came to sit by him at the breakfast bar. Norma was bustling around the kitchen, cleaning up and putting things away. Grom sat near Van’s feet and sighed loudly every once in a while in hopes of becoming the center of attention.
Lisa set her plate, utensils, and coffee cup at her place, then pointed at his mug. “You want a refill? I’ll get it for you.”
“Yes. Thank you.” He reached down to pat Grom on the head. Silly dog.
She smiled and took his cup, returning a minute later with it full of the strong black coffee he so enjoyed.
The Dragon Finds Forever (Nocturne Falls Book 7) Page 4
