I woke up in bed.
But it wasn’t the bed in my house. It was a different bed, a smaller bed covered in a pink comforter. The bed of my childhood. I lay in it, staring up at a ceiling covered in plastic stars just like the one I had as an adult. It was the middle of the night, and I couldn’t sleep. I’d been an insomniac then, just as now. This time, however, it was different. Something other than my churning mind was keeping me awake. Somewhere, outside, I could hear a voice calling me. No, not a voice exactly, but it was a pull. A pull I couldn’t shut out.
Climbing out of bed, I slipped my feet into dirty sneakers and put a light jacket on over my pajamas. In the hallway, the door to Mom and Roland’s room was closed. I moved past as quietly as possible, down the stairs and then out the door.
Outside, the air was still warm. It was high summer. Earlier temperatures had been in the 100s; even now, they had dropped only to the 80s. I walked down the quiet street of our neighborhood, past all the familiar cars and houses. With each step, the call grew louder. I followed, my feet moving on their own. The call led me away from our street, our subdivision, and even the small suburb we lived in. I traveled off of main roads, moving onto trails I’d never known existed.
Then, after almost two hours, I stopped. I didn’t know where I was. The desert, obviously, because that and the mountains were all that surrounded Tucson. The foothills were larger than at home, so I must have gone north. Otherwise, there were no distinguishing features. Prickly pears and saguaros spread out around me in quiet watchfulness.
Suddenly, I felt the air around me charge. There was a presence with me. A person. I turned and saw a man standing and watching me, far taller than my twelve-year-old self. His features were indistinct; I could not make them out no matter how hard I tried. He was only a dark shape, crackling with power.
“Eugenie…”
I took three steps back, but he held his hand out to me.
“Eugenie…”
I shook off the thrall that had brought me out here. Desperately, I realized I had to get away as quickly as I could. But I no longer knew the way back. The trails I’d followed were a blur. So, I backed up farther, but he kept coming, beckoning to me. My feet stumbled, and I fell. Still facing him, I tried to get up, but he stood over me now. In his indistinct features, I could make out a crown on his head, glittering silver and purple.
“Come,” he said, extending his arm to help me up. “It’s time to go.”
I was trapped. Helpless and trapped and out of options. I had never felt so desperate in my young life. It terrified me. I decided then and there that if I survived this, I would make sure I could never be helpless again. His hand touched my shoulder, and I screamed. As I did, some part of me reached out beyond my body and grasped the power lying around us—
I blinked.
Steam swirled around me in the sauna, and I felt lightheaded. I’d been in there too long; it was a wonder I hadn’t passed out. Standing up, I had to grip the wall for support and close my eyes. My heart raced from the vision, the vision that finally convinced me all of this was true. I knew—knew with absolute certainty—that the dark man had been Storm King, my father. I could feel it within me. In my soul.
Overcome, I sat back down, needing a few more moments to consider all this and get my bearings.
Yet, the longer I sat there, the more I began to despair. Storm King really was my father. And as for the rest of my life…well, things were bad. And they were only going to get worse. Every horny gentry wanted to knock me up; the rest probably still wanted to kill me. I’d never have a moment of peace again.
Minutes passed as I ruminated on all this, falling deeper and deeper into depression—as well as exhaustion. I felt fatigued, too apathetic to care about any of it now. What was the point? I had snubbed my parents today. I’d let Jasmine Delaney down. I had nothing to look forward to ever again except a life of fighting and running. And really, why should I even bother fighting anymore? Nothing mattered. It was hopeless. I should just cross over to the Otherworld and give myself up. At least it’d stop the agony of—
I opened my eyes and sat bolt upright. What was wrong with me? Things were grim, but this…this wasn’t natural.
I blinked rapidly, trying to gain focus as I took deep breaths. There it was. I could feel it. A thick, unseen darkness wrapping itself around me. It touched me, crawling along my skin. It was trying to drag me down, to suck away all of my energy. All of my hope.
Standing up, no longer dizzy, I pulled my robe off its hook and put it on. Slowly, I opened the door of the sauna and stuck my head out. I saw nothing too disconcerting, but that bleak feeling continued to swirl around me. The light almost seemed dimmer, darker than it should be for late afternoon. I squinted, trying to break the illusion, for that’s what it was.
Stepping completely out of the sauna, I tried to assess the source. The sauna was in the center of my house. Turn left to go to the kitchen and living room, right toward the bathroom and bedrooms. My weapons were in my bedroom; that was where I wanted to be. But if the thing was in the front of the house, I didn’t want to turn my back on it. At last, I compromised by putting my back up to the hall’s wall and sliding down it toward my bedroom. The distance wasn’t far, but when you had to inch your way there, it felt like miles. Creeping, I passed Tim’s closed bedroom door, grateful he wasn’t here. He knew about my shamanic adventures, but that didn’t mean I wanted him exposed to them.
Next came the bathroom. Yeah, the only bathroom. The thing about cute little houses was the “little” part. I loved everything else about this place, but next time, I’d make sure my house had at least as many bathrooms as occupants. Tim and I had gotten into some nasty rumbles when—
A hand reached out for me from within the dark bathroom, but I saw it coming out of my periphery. I ducked and slid across the hall as he lumbered out. A Gray Man. That had been one of my top three culprits for the negativity zone my house had become. Gray Men cast an aura of despair around them, feeding off physical energy and positive feelings.
This one was, well, gray, of course. Other than that, he looked more or less human-shaped, with dark eyes and scraggly white hair. He was even dressed, which I took as a plus since other monsters and sometimes elemental gentry often came over in loincloths or nothing at all, depending on their strength. Considering what everyone wanted to do to me, I was pretty happy about keeping genitalia covered up.
I tried to scramble toward my bedroom, but his long arm reached out and grabbed me by the hair. I yelled out as he dragged me toward him, pressing me to his body. At least he didn’t say anything suggestive; Gray Men were apparently strong, silent types. But the way he grappled with my robe left little to the imagination about what he wanted to do. Struggling in his strong grasp, I tried to break free but mostly managed to loosen my robe more. Swearing, I decided if I couldn’t get away, then I’d at least delay his amorous actions. My knee jutted up in one hard motion, hitting him in the groin.
His hold on me loosened, and he groaned as one hand instinctively reached down between his legs. I broke away from him, still trying to make for my bedroom. Deciding he could ignore the pain, he lunged toward me, just stopping me from getting to my bedroom doorway. Gripping me by both shoulders, he shoved me up against the wall so that I faced it. Using that hard surface as a constraint, he held me with one arm against it while his other finished pulling off the robe.
I felt his tongue lick my neck, but the truly disgusting nature of that couldn’t really permeate me. I was in survival mode now. I struggled against him, hoping to make it difficult for him to get his own pants off. Being pinned liked this gave me fewer options for escape. Moving my hands against the wall, I groped around for something—anything—I could use as a weapon.
Then my fingers brushed over a small decorative mirror that had been my grandmother’s. It wasn’t very big, but its frame was shaped like a sun—with sharp, pointed metal rays. Not only that, they were silver rays. Grabbing it
from the wall, I held it in my left hand, not my dominant hand, but the hand I wore my amethyst ring on. The amethyst could cut through magic and glamour and also focus my own intentions. It wasn’t as good as a wand, but it had to do. Concentrating on the stone, I let my will pour into it. The stone amplified my energy and then sent it into the silver frame. In as fluid a motion as I could manage in my confined state, I swung the mirror back, driving it into any flesh I could find.
The Gray Man screamed, and I smelled something burning. He released me, and I turned around, not wasting any time, though I uneasily realized I’d dumped more energy into that silver than I should have been capable of. The mirror had stuck in his side and was smoking. It wouldn’t kill him, but having it lodged in there was pretty serious. He reached out toward it with hesitant fingers, knowing he had to touch it to pull it out. I sprinted to my bedroom.
He was only seconds behind me, but it was all I needed to arm myself in my bedroom. He came running in after me, but this time I was on the offensive. I used the silver athame to draw the death symbol on his chest, eliciting a tortured scream from him. Iron was the bane of gentry, but for whatever other reasons, silver hurt anything else Otherworldly. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t question it either. Especially when it had just proven so handy.
Hurt or no, he pushed me backward. I landed on my bed, head hitting with a crack against the wall. It slowed me, but I had already started connecting beyond this world. I reached out, touched the world of death, and sent that connection through the wand. It leapt out at the Gray Man, sucking him in. He fought it, thrashing as though physical action might fight the pull. It couldn’t. A moment later, he vanished.
Almost immediately, the spell of despair in my house disappeared. It was like emerging from underwater. I could breathe again. I let my body slump and relax. I wanted to lean my head against the wall but knew that wouldn’t feel too good after the hard blow I’d just sustained.
A loud sound cracked out from the front of my house, like the door being kicked open. I jerked up, adrenaline going a second round as I heard footsteps pounding down the hall. I was reaching for the gun when a familiar voice yelled, “Eugenie?”
Relaxing—only slightly—I watched as Kiyo burst into my room.
Chapter Thirteen
“You’re late,” I told him, trying to act like my robe wasn’t lying out on the hallway floor.
He glanced around, and I couldn’t help a small breath of pleasure. Every ounce of him was charged and ready, that muscled body in a fighter’s stance. His dark eyes held a hard, savage expression as he assessed for threats. He was magnificent. He looked as though he could have single-handedly torn apart an army then and there. I wrapped my arms around myself, from neither coldness nor modesty.
“I was walking up your driveway and felt something…something dark.” His body relaxed, the animal fierceness in his eyes replaced by that smoky sensuality as he seemed to notice for the first time that I was naked.
“A Gray Man. He had to go keep an appointment with Persephone.”
Kiyo’s lips twitched into a smile. “Were you in the shower?”
“Sauna. I impaled him with a mirror.”
“Nice.”
We stared at each other, a thick tension building up in the air between us.
“Well,” I said finally. “Thanks for checking in. You can leave now.”
“Eugenie—”
My confusion and lust took their rightful backseat to my indignation. “I have nothing to say to you. I don’t want to say anything to you. Get out.”
“Not until I’ve explained everything.”
“Like what? How you wanted to get me pregnant, just like everyone else?”
He blinked, clearly surprised. “I—what? No. Of course not. For Christ’s sake, I used a condom.”
“Yeah, I know. I was there.” I could hear the irrational sulkiness in my voice. “Why else would you have done it, then?”
His eyes traveled from my face down my entire body, and then back to my face. “Why do you think?”
I swallowed, attempting to ignore the warmth left from where his gaze had touched me. “Okay. I get the mechanics of it. But you can’t sit there and tell me you being in that bar was a coincidence.”
“No. It wasn’t,” he said simply.
I waited for more. “That’s it?”
He sighed and leaned against the wall. “I was asked by a friend to find you and mark you so we could keep track of you. I didn’t know why; I had no idea who you were at the time.”
“What? Someone told you to sleep with me?”
“Er, no. That was my own, um, improvisation. I could have marked you other ways.” He smiled meaningfully. “But you were too charming and pretty.”
“Hey! Don’t use that fox sex magic on me. It’s already caused enough trouble. Who told you to do that? To mark me?”
The flirtatious smile disappeared. Silence.
“Look, you’re supposed to be the big honesty advocate. If you aren’t going to play that way anymore, then I’m going to kick your ass out of here.”
A glint of amusement flickered in his eyes. “I think I’d like that.” He paused. Finally: “No one you know. Her name is Maiwenn.”
“The Willow Queen.” I took satisfaction in seeing his surprise. “I know more about the gentry than you think.”
“Apparently. When she found out who you were, she wanted to watch you and find out where you stood on your fath—on the Storm King prophecy.”
I met his questioning look with incredulity. “Are you seriously asking me? You think I want to see gentry take over the world?”
“No, not really. But Maiwenn wanted to be sure on your position. She opposed Storm King before and has no desire to see an invasion. She’d rather put resources into the Otherworld, into staying there and making that home.”
“Smart lady,” I said bitterly. “I wish they’d all stay there.”
“Don’t knock the Otherworld. It has its appeal.”
“Yeah? So, what, you consider yourself one of them?”
“I consider myself part of both worlds. It’s who I am. It’s who you are too.”
“No. I’m not part of that world.” I stared past him without really seeing, suddenly feeling tired. “Sometimes I don’t even feel a part of this world.”
He crossed the distance between us and sat down on the bed. Those dark eyes brimmed with concern. “Don’t say that.”
I looked away so he wouldn’t see my eyes getting wet. “I don’t know what’s going on anymore. Everything…everything’s changed. I can’t turn around without someone trying to rape me. I can’t trust the people I love.” I turned back to him. “I can’t trust you.”
His hand reached out and touched my cheek. “Yes, you can. Eugenie, I didn’t sleep with you to get you pregnant. I didn’t even sleep with you just because you’re hot—though that was a definite perk. I liked you. I still like you. I want us to have something.”
He’d moved his hand down my neck, to my shoulder, and then to my upper arm. His fingers lazily traced the outline of Hecate’s snake. Goosebumps rose on my flesh.
“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t want to get pregnant.”
“Contraceptive technology is a wonderful thing.”
“I can’t be involved with you.”
“Why not?”
The words hurt coming out. “Because…because of what you are…”
The hand dropped. “I’m the same—”
“I know, I know. The same as me. Kiyo, you’ve got to understand…. I’ve got a lot to deal with right now. I just…well, I just can’t. Not yet. Maybe…” I looked at him, at the kind and intelligent face, at the smoldering body so close to mine. “Maybe some day, we can…”
Something on my face must have given away my feelings, that no matter how terrified of getting close to him I was, I still liked him and wanted him. The old mischievous smile appeared on his face, and his hand cupped my chin. He pressed his
lips against my cheek. “Then let me be your friend,” he whispered.
I closed my eyes and let his heat envelop me. “Friends don’t breathe in my ear like that.”
“We’ll be special friends.”
“Kiyo—”
He drew back a little, still smiling. “Seriously, Eugenie. If we can’t be lovers, I still want to be in your life. I want to help you through this. I want to protect you.”
I stiffened, and my old snarkiness reared its head through the emotional miasma. “I don’t need protection.”
“Do you have any idea how bad it’s going to get for you?”
“I’ve handled it so far. I’ll handle it again.”
“God, you’re amazing.” His spoke with admiration. “But you’re also annoyingly difficult. Let someone help you. Let me help you.”
I stared stonily ahead. His expression darkened.
“They’re going to come after you! Do you think I can just sit around when people are trying to hurt and rape you?”
The heat in his voice seared me. He wasn’t angry at me; he was angry for me. He regarded me in a way no one had ever looked at me before, an expression that said I meant so much to him that he would take on hell itself to protect me. That intensity wrapped around me. It thrilled me. It scared me. I didn’t know what to do with it.
Again, he read my face. This time, he pulled me over, crushing my body against his. I didn’t fight it. “Let me help you,” he repeated.
“How? You live an hour and a half away.”
He pressed his face against my hair. “I’ll commute.”
“Oh for God’s—”
“I mean it. I know I can’t be with you all the time, but I’ll do what I can.”
“You’re going to trail me like a bodyguard or something?”
“I’ll do it as a fox if it makes you feel better.”
I laughed in spite of myself, tightening my hold on him. I knew we shouldn’t be locked in this kind of embrace, but honestly…after everything that had happened, it was comforting. And a turn-on too. But mostly comforting.
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