“Those were some mighty powerful visions you were having.” Duncan sat wearily beside Shane’s bed. His gray gaze was full of speculation. “How many of them will come to pass?”
Shane shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“Well. That just sucks.” Duncan ran a hand through his hair wearily. “Some of them involved Jaden and Moira.”
“I know.” And Shane was now on the path to ensure they never came to pass, but there were still forces out there that would try and make them come true. “Jaden’s hurt.”
Duncan stared at him in disbelief before sighing. “I agree with Jaden. You are a freaky-ass dude.” He stood, his head shaking. “But you’re our freaky-ass dude. Get some rest, okay?”
Shane nodded even though Duncan wasn’t looking. “Would you look at him? He took a powerful blow to the head.”
Cassie nodded. “What race is he?”
“Part vampire, part Robin Goodfellow, all pain in the ass.”
She blinked, amusement once more lighting her face and turning it from plain to riveting. “Ah. That should be interesting.”
Shane chuckled. “Understatement of the century. Jaden’s something else.” He tried to sit up, startled to find how weak he was. He could barely get his head off the pillow. “Akane will be here soon too.”
Long, slender hands pushed him back down with ease. “I’ll send her in as soon as she gets here, I promise.”
A fragment of a vision floated before him and Shane gasped. “Who’s after you?”
She froze just long enough to confirm his vision. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But the warmth that had been so much a part of her was closed off now, her bearing chilly and stand-offish. She’d closed down on him, and Shane would have to be careful what he said from here on out.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. Your business is your own.” He made sure to get just the right amount of sincerity and regret in his voice. Eventually he’d see exactly what he needed to see. It would come to him in time.
His part in this was almost over.
She thawed a bit, smiling at him once more. “Thank you. Now rest! Or you’ll undo all the hard work I just did.”
Shane allowed himself to do just that, drifting off to the sound of a softly sung lullaby.
Akane landed in front of the Dunne house. She took just enough time to hand over the still-unconscious Jaden to his two mates before rushing off to Shane’s studio. She didn’t care that she could feel him deep inside, knew he was all right. She had to see it with her own eyes.
She slammed into the studio at full tilt, only stopping long enough to shut the door to the cold. She raced into his small bedroom and sagged in relief.
Her big man was curled up on his side, one hand under his cheek. The other clutched the puzzle box he’d given her for her birthday. Akane smiled at the sight. She opened her inner vision to check him with that, just in case they’d missed anything again.
Something inside the puzzle box gleamed, glittering like a gem. Akane narrowed her eyes and did her best to ignore it, but the damn thing kept calling to her sight. “What the hell. Why not.”
She went to the bed and gently lowered herself onto it. She took the puzzle box from his hand, glad her action hadn’t awakened him. She studied the golden box once more.
Damn, her mate did fine work. She recognized several of the symbols he’d carved into the box, like the…wait. Wasn’t that the tattoo that had appeared on her arm? She glared at him for a split second before realizing exactly how futile it was to be pissed over it. The man had a good idea she was eventually going to accept the mating. Her dragon half and his Sidhe half would have ensured it no matter how desperately she tried to get away.
Still. There were times when he was a seriously freaky dude. “We are going to have the weirdest children.” She brushed her hand against his back, smiling at the warm strength of him.
Akane turned her attention back to the puzzle box. It wouldn’t take her long to figure out how to open it. How difficult could it be?
Epilogue
Three weeks later…
Robin stared at the completed statue of Oberon. A female figure rose from the waves, her upper body the only part of her visible. She reached for Oberon, their fingertips touching, a look of such pure yearning on her face that even Robin was moved.
Shane had completed Oberon’s art piece. What had Robin missed? He shook his head, once more amazed at the talent that seemed to run rampant in the Dunne family. Turning, ready to leave the studio, he paused. Under the pedestal was something draped in black cloth. Curious, he lifted the cloth off the figure.
Robin hissed. There, done in nearly black glass, was Oberon’s face. His fanged face.
He dropped the cloth back over his king’s head and left the studio. Something was going on, and Robin needed to find out what. First thing to do would be talk to Shane, find out what the hybrid had seen and, more importantly, which vision would come to pass.
“I hate you! What is this thing, a portal to Hell?” A golden puzzle box went flying past Robin’s head, followed swiftly by one fast-moving hybrid with bright reddish-gold hair and laughing blue eyes. “Oberon’s crown should be this well guarded, you, you—JETHRO! Get your ass back in here!”
Shane Joloun Dunne popped his ass onto the banister of the Dunne farmhouse and grinned at the Hob. “Evening, Robin.”
Robin nodded. He had to visit more often. These people entertained the hell out of him. “Good evening, Shane. How is your mate enjoying her present?”
“Oh, she likes it just fine.” Shane leaned back against the post and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “I think it’s the pregnancy that’s making her insane.”
Robin stilled. “Pregnancy?”
Shane nodded, his expression wicked. “Twins.”
“Congratulations.” Had the prophecy been fulfilled? Was it Shane’s child who would be the child of Dunne? “Wait. Does she know she’s pregnant?”
Shane chuckled, but didn’t answer.
A sea nymph stepped around the corner of the big Dunne house, her mousy brown hair pulled back in a ponytail that did little for her long face. She was a gangly thing too, tall and lean, with big wary eyes that stared at him in something akin to horror. She was dragging a suitcase behind her. “Oops. Sorry.”
“Hey, Cassie. You heading out?”
The way Shane spoke to the woman let Robin know she was an honored guest. Robin relaxed ever so slightly. This must be the woman who had healed Shane. Robin had yet to meet her. He’d been summoned back to Oberon’s side to give him an update on the Malmaynes.
Oberon had not been pleased to learn that they’d lost the clan before Robin had even started his investigation. He’d extended an invitation to all the Malmaynes who wished to avoid the Black Court, hoping at least some of them would take him up on it and give their allegiance to the Gray. So far, a small contingent had come forth, led surprisingly by Tristan Malmayne. Oberon was waiting to see if any more of them would follow the young Lord.
Robin wasn’t going to hold his breath.
Robin stilled. There was an ornate pearl ring he recognized on the woman’s hand. A surprising development indeed, even in such a surprising family. He studied her, looking for signs of her parents in her odd, almost homely face. “You are far from home.”
“So are you.”
Robin allowed his brows to rise, challenging her to say more. He found himself further intrigued when her spine straightened and she stared at him head-on.
“You know where you’re going?” Shane stood up and helped Cassie put her bag in her car.
“Yup. Out to the road, make a left, head straight on through the rest of Nebraska until I hit Utah and eventually Colorado.” She held out a piece of paper. “Are you sure I’ll be able to hole up here for a while?”
Robin stared at the paper over Shane’s shoulder, shamelessly eavesdropping. He stared in shock at his own address. He met the hybrid’s eyes,
his own narrowed in suspicion. Shane was up to something.
Shane winked at him. Winked, like this was nothing but one of Robin’s own pranks. “Yup. Trust me, they’ll be delighted to have you.”
“Are you sure?”
Shane grinned. “I checked with the owners.”
Did he now? Odd, Robin couldn’t recall that conversation.
“Just remember, the owners work for the palace, so stay away when you hear the King is coming to visit.”
She shuddered. “You gotcha. I have no desire to meet a royal.”
Now that was even more intriguing.
“Thanks, Shane.” The nymph hugged the hybrid, her expression full of gratitude. “I mean it. I don’t know what I would have done without you and your folks.”
“You would have survived.” Akane stepped out from around the house and wrapped her arms around her mate. The puzzle box was in her hand. It looked exactly like it had the day Robin had first seen it. “You’re strong.”
The female, Cassie, shrugged. She looked oddly embarrassed. “Yeah, well.” She turned and stared at the road before giving them both a quick hug. “I’m outta here.” She gave Robin a brief, formal nod. “Nice to meet you, my lord.”
“Cassie, wait!”
Robin turned swiftly. Ruby Dunne had dashed out of the house like a madwoman. She threw herself into Cassie’s arms and hugged her tight. “You visit us, you hear?”
Cassie hugged back, and her expression set Robin back a step. This was a woman starved for affection, and Ruby was handing it out to her in super-size quantities. “I will, Ruby. You have my word.”
Well now, this was a fascinating twist, wasn’t it? He watched as the nymph, waving good-bye, took off down the wintery road toward whatever fate Shane Dunne had seen for her. She wasn’t the prettiest lass he’d ever seen, but there was something about her face that caught at him. Could it be? “Is she mine?”
Shane shook her head. “Nope.” He put his hand on Robin’s shoulder. “You’ll meet yours before she meets hers, but she’ll see hers before you see yours.”
Robin blinked slowly. What the hell? “Care to explain yourself?”
Shane gave him a shit-eating grin. “Let’s just say the child of Dunne has just done his duty.” And Shane took his laughing mate back into the Dunne house, leaving Robin standing out in the cold, confused as hell—and more curious than he could ever remember being.
A small hand patted him on the head. “You’ll get used to it.” Ruby Dunne took his hand and pulled him into the warmth and the light. Into something he longed for with all his ancient, weary heart.
Home.
About the Author
Dana Marie Bell wrote her first short story when she was thirteen years old. She attended the High School for Creative and Performing Arts for creative writing, where freedom of expression was the order of the day. When her parents moved out of the city and placed her in a Catholic high school for her senior year, she tried desperately to get away, but the nuns held fast, and she graduated with honors despite herself.
Dana has lived primarily in the Northeast (Pennsylvania, New Jersey and Delaware, to be precise), with a brief stint on the U.S. Virgin Island of St. Croix. She lives with her soul mate and husband Dusty, their two maniacal children, an evil, ice-cream stealing cat and a bull terrier that thinks it’s a Pekinese.
You can learn more about Dana at www.danamariebell.com or contact her at [email protected].
Look for these titles by Dana Marie Bell
Now Available:
Halle Pumas
The Wallflower
Sweet Dreams
Cat of a Different Color
Steel Beauty
Only In My Dreams
Halle Shifters
Bear Necessities
Poconos Pack
Finding Forgiveness
The Gray Court
Dare to Believe
Noble Blood
True Destiny
Very Much Alive
Eye of the Beholder
Coming Soon:
True Destiny
Howl For Me
Dying is hard enough. Coming back to life is brutal.
Locked in Silence
© 2011 Shiloh Walker
Grimm’s Circle, Book 5
Vanya has been hunting and killing demons ever since one of them scarred her face and killed her sister. Correction—since she was forced to kill the demon possessing her sister.
Then some sort of angel offers her a deal she can’t refuse—that if she becomes one of them, she gets to kill even more demons. Tonight, she’s made that choice. The death she smells on the air will be her own—and she welcomes it.
Silence feels a darkness is looming. Change—something he has every reason not to welcome. The deeply hidden memories that robbed him of his past, of his own name, render him unfit to teach anyone the ways of the Grimm. Yet here he is in the dankest sex club in town, waiting to assume his charge—after he stands by and watches her die.
When Vanya awakes, their complicated, dangerous dance begins. And so does something else—a searing need that blisters along their unexpected mental connection. Silence shouldn’t be drawn to his student, but once they touch, he can’t think of a reason to stop. Even though acting out their darkest desires puts them in more danger than they realize.
Warning: This book contains sex-starved demons, lonely angels, demon-angel sandwiches, blood, violence, death and a happy-ever-after.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Locked in Silence:
The two of them, they hadn’t done much talking, at least not of a personal nature. Lots of training. He’d done a lot of explaining about what sort of demons they’d face—succubae, incubae, orin…others. How they traveled from a place called the netherplains to their world—most of them had to take over a human body in order to do much of anything.
Basically, she played student to his teacher—if there was a theme song for her new life, maybe it could be “Hot for Teacher”.
He made her heart race just looking at him.
He also made her belly clench, made her palms go damp, her knees go weak.
He made her ache.
In the worst possible way, in the sweetest way.
And now he wanted to talk about her gifts.
Hell. This was too damn personal.
What if he was like her?
She’d gotten pretty damn good at hiding how she felt over the past few years, but if he was anything like her…
Vanya blushed even thinking about it. Blushed furiously as she sat there with her chest tight, her palms sweaty, her breath lodged in her throat.
“You’ve got gifts, don’t you?” she blurted out.
Silence narrowed his eyes. We’re supposed to be talking about your gifts, he signed. He added emphasis by jabbing a finger at her after he’d finished. Yours.
“I know. I just…well, this is weird. I haven’t talked to anybody about what I can do. It’s…”
The hard line of his mouth softened and the aggravated look in his blue eyes faded. Not easy to talk about, is it? he signed.
“No.” She hitched a shoulder up, wondered how she could explain that she barely even needed him to sign when he was talking to her because she often heard his voice—low and deep—in the back of her mind. And if he was thinking about her, she heard him too.
How did she tell him that?
He sat down next to her. She had to check the impulse to scoot away—the long, hard length of his thigh against hers made her uneasy—made her want to climb into his lap, see if she couldn’t crack the polite, friendly mask he wore around her.
He held out a hand. Startled, she looked at it—stared at his broad, scarred palm. His hands were a mess—ridged with scars that looked like knife cuts, burns, other old injuries she couldn’t even indentify. So at odds with his perfect, angelic face. Looking from that scarred hand into ice-blue eyes, she said, “What?”
He grinned. And again she he
ard his thoughts. “You want to know about my gifts. I’ll show you.”
Nervously, she laid her hand in his. “You’re not a psychic, are you?”
He shook his head, and then with his free hand, gestured to the room.
Vanya looked around. “I don’t know what I’m looking for…”
He took his hand away.
The room fell into darkness. Darkness so complete, she couldn’t even see him, although he sat right next to her. She couldn’t feel him, and she’d gotten pretty damn good at that.
Then his hand was in hers again, and the darkness was gone.
“Oh—”
Once more he pulled his hand away.
The darkness returned.
“—shit.”
This time, the darkness didn’t disappear. It gradually bled away, like the night bled into day. Her heart banged hard against her ribs as she looked at him.
“What in the hell was that?”
He smiled and signed. She didn’t recognize it, though.
When he spoke into her mind, she stiffened. “It’s illusion. I can make you think you see darkness when there is none.”
She blinked. “You mean, it wasn’t really dark?” Scowling, she remembered the night at the warehouse—the night she died. “That night. At the warehouse.”
Absently, she reached up and touched her throat. She couldn’t remember much of anything beyond that first pain, the shock of it. But she remembered everything right up to that point…the fear, the terror. The helplessness—knowing she’d been alone.
But she hadn’t been.
He’d been there.
Waiting.
Part of her wanted to rebel at the thought—wanted to demand to know why he hadn’t done something—even though she already knew the answer. He’d done exactly what he’d been sent to do.
She couldn’t very well become one of them if she hadn’t died, could she?
Artistic Vision Page 19
