by D. D. Chance
Tugging him toward me by his shoulders, I reached for his heavy trousers, pulling at the thick leather belt, not letting him shrug me away until I’d managed to unbuckle the thing.
“Don’t make me order you,” I warned, then blushed at my own audacity.
He grinned as he pulled his pants free the rest of the way and stepped out of them. “You couldn’t order me against my will, not for that. Not even you.”
“Why not?” I asked, unreasonably relieved as I remembered the monsters’ reaction to my commands during the cliff-top battle. But Grim wasn’t interested in giving me any further explanation. He stretched down again and curled his hand behind my neck, drawing me in to claim my mouth with his. As he did, he levered his body over mine in the low bed, covering me with his long, heavily muscled body, surprisingly lithe as his hips slipped between my knees and the heavy weight of his shaft pressed into me, making me gasp.
He hesitated. “We don’t—”
“Oh, we so do,” I finished for him, and before he could come up with some other arcane or ridiculous reason why we shouldn’t have sex, I gripped the sides of his hips and pulled him into me.
We melted together as if we’d long ago been forged out of the same band of metal and been stripped apart, and only now had we found our true form, our proper configuration. A deep wellspring of power coursed through me, not the skittering, glittering magic I’d come to expect from the other guys, but something deep, profound, and primal. Something that called me home.
“Am I a monster?” I asked against Grim’s lips, only to have him laugh a deep resonant chuckle against my mouth.
“You should be so lucky, but no. You are human, Nina Cross, just more extraordinarily human than anyone else I’ve ever met.”
He thrust into me completely then, seating himself deep, and after that, there was no more need for words. No more need for anything except the perfect, rhythmic rocking of two souls coming home. I melted into his arms, and flew.
16
I awoke with a start, impossibly disoriented. How had I gotten to this room with a large bed and a dozen doorways? Who could sleep in a place like this? How had I managed to? Where…
I rolled around in the bed, tangling in the sheets, realizing that I was both naked and alone, but not completely ignored. New, silvery clothes devoid of bloodstains rested on the edge of the bed, and there was a canteen-style container on the floor. I reached for the water, what I assumed was water, first, lifting it to my mouth and drinking greedily. I’d never felt more parched. Then I lurched for the clothes, stopping short as the enormity of what had just happened finally struck my brain.
I snatched the clothes and retreated beneath the blankets, stopping only when my back hit the wall. Grim had made love to me. The last member of the collective, the one I had feared the most—even dreaded. I’d doubted it would even happen until he was right in front of me, and I couldn’t keep myself from wanting him, needing him. I scanned my body quickly, but nothing appeared any different. The wounds I’d received courtesy of Elaine Hallowell’s spikes had all but healed, but the other scars from my past remained.
I frowned a little, drifting my fingers along them. Some part of my brain had thought that uniting with Grim would have made a difference for those. I didn’t know why. I’d been carrying those scars exactly as long as he had. Even as I thought that, soft, whispering images surfaced in my mind, hazy recollections of a fight in the woods. A large creature attacking me. Killing me? Certainly trying. That’s what monsters did, and I had the scars to prove it.
The memory slipped away as quickly as it had come, and I sighed, shaking out the clothes Grim had left for me. Why hadn’t he stayed? That wasn’t fair of me to even wonder, but I wondered anyway. Grim was the warrior of his clan, and they were on the brink of an epic battle. It made sense he had things to do. Things I had kept him from. Because he couldn’t help himself either. I smiled, selfishly liking the feel of that.
Once dressed, I more or less straightened the blankets on the bed, though I got the feeling they never were completely straight. Did Grim stay here when he wasn’t at his stone fortress—or in Fowlers Hall? It certainly felt like we stood on hallowed ground, given the way the room had been constructed, more doors than walls, but each doorway hung with solid shadow that somehow made the space feel private. It wasn’t like sleeping with the closet open. I moved toward the nearest doorway, tentatively reaching out a hand. I met with resistance in the shadows. Not quite a wall, but not open air either—more a strange, fluttering feel, like curtains pulled against a stiff breeze.
Was this the doorway Grim had used to leave? I whirled around toward the front entry to the room, or what I thought was the front entry. It was slightly larger than the others and more heavily entwined with vines. But the shadows that hung there were equally stiff to the touch. I could push my way out, but I didn’t know if I could push my way back in again. Had he trapped me in here? I hoped not, but given my last experience with leaping through a portal, I’d certainly understand the inclination.
But where did all these portals go?
Stopping briefly to suck down more of the water, and ignoring the rumble of my stomach, reminding me it had been a long time since dinner the night before, I made another circuit of the room. When I stopped in front of the archways and squinted hard, I could almost see through them. At least three revealed outdoor scenes, forested places, some light, some dark. Another showed a large bedroom with stern, almost authoritarian furnishings. A bed, a large chest. Huge uncurtained windows. Was this Grim’s room in Fowlers Hall? If so, I could see why he didn’t stay there much. Then again, he probably retreated here to sleep, an extra layer of protection and also his home.
Had the Hallowells realized the gift they’d given him, letting him take up residence behind the warded walls of Wellington Academy? Had they even known he could return to his own realm without them ever knowing?
They couldn’t have, I decided. They’d never have allowed him that luxury, at least not intentionally.
Two other archways opened up onto stone corridors, and though they were absolutely featureless, I felt certain these were part of the underground labyrinth of Wellington Academy, places he needed to be able to access quickly. Places he could enter without surprising people even if he hadn’t been there a moment before. The next two portals jolted me more. I recognized these locations—the Crazy Cup coffee shop and the small park beside my apartment building. Had Grim been spying on me along with a tall silver-eyed Laram? Were those two clans allies or enemies?
The last two archways were less murky, and I smiled upon recognizing them both. The grand chamber of Lowell Library and the bar of the White Crane. Grim crashing through the large mirror behind the counter of the bar wouldn’t go unnoticed by the sharp-eyed bartender, I was pretty sure, who even now polished glasses behind the bar, her dark, gray-streaked hair pulled back in a rough ponytail, her black leather jacket thrown over the counter. The bar was half full of patrons and cheerily lit, but that didn’t go very far toward determining whether it was daytime or nighttime. I didn’t know if the place ever closed.
I considered the bartender awhile, remembering her from the morning before I got tangled in demons, and again we met at the Crane to parse out what we thought we knew about the illusionist plaguing Wellington Academy. Had she known the truth? Were the people who lived around the academy, whether fully magical or quasi magical, part of the roiling politics that consumed the magical families? They had to be aware on some level, right? Or did it just not bother them?
Those thoughts bounced around in my brain as the bartender filled an order, accepting something in return for a large glass of dark brown liquid. At first, I thought it was a credit card to keep a tab open, and then I realized it was a flat burnished square that she tossed into a drawer with several others. After pulling out a large notebook, she opened it and made a notation. Then she flipped several pages ahead and wrote something else in large slashing strokes. Then
she folded the notebook over on itself and leaned it against the counter, out of sight of anyone but me.
I blinked. Three words had been clearly written in large block letters on the page: WATCH YOUR BACK.
I squinted at the note, then the main doorway to my hideaway flashed with a bright light. A second later, Grim came through, carrying the Akari form of a takeout bag, a loose sack filled with something that smelled hot and savory.
“Niali,” he said by way of explanation, and pulled a steaming pot from the sack to settle it on a low table that hugged the wall between two portal doorways. Stew wasn’t what I would have expected for breakfast, assuming it was breakfast time, but I couldn’t deny how amazing it smelled. I moved toward him just as a new sound racketed across the room from directly behind me.
Directly behind me.
WATCH YOUR BACK.
I whirled as three figures bolted into the room from the archway—which one had it been? The library? Grim’s room? I didn’t know, but it didn’t matter, because the moment Liam, Zach, and Tyler cleared the portal, they focused on Grim with an unholy roar—and leapt for him.
I stumbled back, momentarily dazed at the flat-out brawl in front of me. Grim remained in his human form, but he was bigger than all of them. That said, the guys had been busy these last few weeks. Tyler was impressively strong, Zach fought with the fury of a madman, and even Liam jumped into the fray, his hands suspiciously bright as he landed blows that left smoking streaks of ash across Grim’s skin.
In a flash, I understood what was going on.
“It’s not his fault!” I shouted, but no one paid me any attention. The guys pummeled each other, and Grim gave as good as he got, not trying to stop and explain himself, but seeming to enjoy the fight way more than he should be. Guys were so weird.
Still, I needed them alive, not dead or so damaged that they couldn’t do anything.
“It’s not his fault!” I cried more loudly this time. So loudly that the trees making up the walls of the room shook with the force of my rebuke, but nobody else paid attention to me.
“Stop,” I yelled, and that finally did it. The guys froze mid-swing, their momentum carrying them forward, though their bodies no longer attempted to complete the motion. As a result, they ended up sprawling on top of each other in a big heap, jaws bloodied, faces bruised.
I waded into the center of the guys, peeling their long, lanky forms apart, trying to move Grim and failing.
“It’s not his fault,” I said again as they all stared at me with equal parts disbelief and discontent. “It’s a long-assed story, and we don’t have time to go through it all, but it’s not his fault.”
“Sure we have time,” Zach said. He leveled a dark glower at Grim. “You tell me, and I’ll tell them.”
Grim had drawn himself back up to a seated position, and he returned Zach’s glare with a cold scowl of his own. “Nina’s right,” he said. “We don’t have time.”
“Oh, we’ve got time for this,” Liam countered. He’d somehow managed to drag himself over to his pack, and it now sat beside him like a cheerful puppy happy to be reunited with his master.
“You had to know we were coming,” Liam continued, pointing to the bag. “Sooner or later.”
“I was banking on later.”
But even as Grim spoke, Zach inhaled sharply, and I felt the shift of energy in the air. Grim had opened his mind to him. The guys drew in closer to me, all of us mentally leaning on each other, bracing ourselves for what was to come. Liam rested his hand on my shoulder, Tyler held my hand, while I reached out for Zach—not touching him, but not needing to, the flow of our mental connection enough to ground us. Only Grim stood apart, but more because he needed that right now. What he had to share was his burden alone to unpack. The rest of us built a reserve of welcome, support, and healing, though, ready to unleash it the first moment we could.
Through Zach, Grim opened his mind to all of us. The story flowed out in the blink of an eye, a series of sharply defined images. Grim racing through the forest with other large cats, easily keeping pace with them. It wasn’t immediately obvious that he too was a leopard, but the scene changed swiftly enough that it didn’t matter.
Next he stood with several other tall blond warriors, struggling in a snare as he watched the others be killed, including two older Akari who stared back at him with desperate determination and undeniable love as they were knifed to death, then flayed in their snow leopard forms. To me, there was no question that these brave souls were Grim’s parents—the first and most visceral reason for his sacrifice to save his people. As we watched, Grim broke through the snare and stumbled forward, falling to his knees in submission before the Hallowells as the other Akari vanished.
He was only a boy when the Hallowells took him, barely a teenager. What followed was a nightmare existence of torture and bondage and tests. Here, there was no hiding Grim’s dual nature, but none of the guys expressed any surprise. Even if they hadn’t known specifically that Grim was a monster, the manifestation of it made perfect sense, and there was no denying the pain he suffered at the hands of the Hallowells.
He was sent to fight monsters, and he did. He killed them too, too many times to count. And then there came a forest that I knew, a wooded area that made me stiffen in surprise. I jolted as Grim finally spoke.
“Enough,” he said. “The rest I can tell you myself. I worked with the Hallowells with the intention of keeping an eye on the hunters of Wellington Academy. When you and Liam joined the academy, they knew this would be their best opportunity to strike. You were the first hunters of any real strength the academy had recruited in a generation. You would be enough to make the academy feel certain they could win an actual war.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Tyler demanded, running his hands through his dark brown hair. “We would have talked. We could have strategized.”
Grim shook his head. “No, we couldn’t. My abilities in the human realm aren’t as strong as they are here. I needed all my mental will for a solitary purpose. If I had tried to divert my focus, I would have failed in that purpose.”
“You were protecting Nina.” Zach said. He turned back to me, and his hand lifted, the gentle communication between us growing stronger as Liam gripped my shoulder and Tyler tightened his hand on mine. We were a team, and Grim was a part of that team too. Whether he understood that fully or not.
Grim wouldn’t look at me. “I was.”
“Well, that works out,” Tyler said grimly, giving my hand a final squeeze before he released me. He focused more squarely on Grim. “Because there’s been a shit ton going on back at the academy. The Hallowells have totally gone on the offensive and completely thrown you under the bus. They’ve accused you of trying to kill Nina.”
“Give it time.” Grim sighed, still without glancing my way. “I still might.”
17
“So what is this place?” Liam asked, patting my shoulder before gesturing to the walls around us. “Your vacation home?”
Grim blinked at him, then shook himself, clearly relieved at the change of subject. “I stay here whenever I can, yes.”
“Uh-huh.” Liam pointed to the bowl of stew on the low table. “And are you going to eat this? Or should I? I don’t want it to go to waste. It smells amazing.”
“That’s for Nina,” Grim said.
“There’s plenty to share,” I said hurriedly, and Tyler snorted.
“Not if Liam gets ahold of it. You go first.”
The business of eating stew cut the tension further. There were a couple of small ladle-like cups in the cloth sack, and the first bite of the thick meat concoction warmed me more than I would have expected. I offered the cup to Liam next, while Tyler peered from doorway to doorway.
“Is this where you go instead of sleeping at Fowlers Hall?” he asked Grim. “I never did understand why it took you so long to get anywhere on campus, at least when it was a formal summons. You always showed up before us if it wasn’t a forma
l summons, though. Don’t think I didn’t notice that.”
“This is where I go,” he agreed. “These doorways are one of the gifts of the Akari. We’re portal keepers. It’s an ancient skill, and one we’ve managed to keep hidden from the Hallowells.”
“One your people have died to keep hidden, you mean,” Zach said quietly. His gaze now roamed to the ceiling as he traced the patterns of limbs and vines. “How did you manage to keep the secret while they were torturing you?”
Grim shook his head. “You overestimate humans as a species, or underestimate them, depending. The Hallowells viewed us as cattle, little more. Our value wasn’t in the magic that we could create as much as it was in our foreignness, the fact that we were magical at all. My kind in particular were at first targeted for hunting, until we proved too easy to kill.”
Tyler had taken the ladle from Liam and was sampling the stew as well. “Of course you were,” he deadpanned. It didn’t seem likely, given what we knew of Grim. “You tricked them.”
“We tricked them. Monsters disappear when killed—but Akari are portal tenders. Once we had a lock on our kind in the human realm and we had a portal trained to their location, it wasn’t hard to pull them back through the portal the instant before the death blow came. The excuse that was given to the disappointed hunters who had no trophy to show off for all their hard work, was that the transfer to the human realm stripped us of our natural instincts, making us more docile and less interesting. It also kept us alive at a time when some of our other races were being plundered mercilessly. Still other clans were smart enough to go underground. Even in the early going, when we made the mistake of revealing to the Hallowells the rich diversity of races in the realm, some monsters were smart enough to flee and not be found. The Hallowells had massive amounts of money, but time was a scarce resource for them, as was trust. They couldn’t extend their operation too far, or they ran the risk of being discovered. So they narrowed their focus to the most lucrative efforts. They harvested hunting prey for the less savory families with a desire to kill something new and different. They dissected the bodies of the creatures they captured for their inherent magic to strengthen those whose taste for power could never be sated. And they trained monsters as slave populations for yet more families, in the most exclusive magical enclaves of your world.”
