The man lurched forward, too. But instead of trying to steady himself, he took another deliberate step forward, not falling, but using the momentum to bring himself closer. Then he whipped his arm around Charlee’s waist and held her up as her feet went out from underneath her.
Charlee clutched at his arm, feeling wiry strength through the coat sleeve, while her heart settled and returned to normal. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly quite dry.
He was looking down at her, watching her recovery. “My fault,” he said, and his accent was very strong, and nothing that Charlee recognized. “I was not looking.” He gave her a very broad smile, showing white teeth that were charmingly crooked.
“You stopped me from falling on my ass, so you’re forgiven.”
He frowned a little. “Ass?” he repeated and helped her stand up.
Charlee swallowed her little laugh. Smiling, she turned her hips and pointed to her butt. “Ass,” she said gravely.
“Ah!” He grinned, delighted. “Very good. I learn another word.”
“It’s not a word you can use in general company,” she warned him. When he looked like he wasn’t following, she added, “Some people think it is a rude word.”
He laughed again. It was an odd-sounding laugh—sort of a wheezy bellow—but it was an interesting sound and it made Charlee smile. “It is a good word for that.” He pointed to his own butt. Then he bent and picked up the Starbucks cup and the separated lid from the middle of the puddle of steaming mocha. She could smell the chocolate in it.
“Hey, let me buy you a replacement coffee,” she said. “I owe you that much.”
He held up the cup. “Another...one?”
“Yes.”
“It would be very well.”
“It would be good. Or great,” she corrected him. “Well is for when you aren’t. When you are sick. Or not sick.” She knew she was confusing him with her contradictions so she shrugged. “Coffee?” she asked, pointing to where the Starbucks stall was located.
“Very good,” he said and smiled.
* * * * *
His name was Niko, and he had only just arrived in New York, which he confided like that would be news to her, as if his strong accent and weak English hadn’t given him away. He was from Latvia, a little province in the north, where it stayed dark all winter. Charlee looked out the window they were sitting next to, at the pedestrians hurrying along hunched over in the cold. This probably felt like spring-time to someone from such a place. No wonder he was in such a good mood. Being happy seemed to be the only emotion Niko was capable of expressing. Sometimes his smile faded, but it wasn’t replaced by anything. He didn’t frown and didn’t lose the happy, sunny disposition, even when he wasn’t smiling.
He had black, short but extremely curly hair, and pale white flesh, which fit with Latvia. His eyes were also very black, but enormous in his thin face. They made him look more lost and vulnerable than he already sounded with his thick accent and comic twists of English.
He chattered about the apartment he had found, and from the description, Charlee figured he had rented an efficiency apartment, which he thought was just heavenly, for the bed was soft and the water was hot.
Niko had arrived to start a job he had been offered, but the job hadn’t worked out. Now he was looking for another one. He didn’t seem to be dismayed by the idea of finding a job in a city where he didn’t know the language very well, and that was generally considered to be one of the most expensive cities on the face of the earth.
Charlee sat back and let him talk, sometimes correcting his English, but not always. It was relaxing to not have to do anything but listen, and the sun was nice and warm where it shone through the windows. She turned her face up to it.
Asher was standing across the street, watching her.
Charlee bounced to her feet, knocking the little table into a skittering dance, and making Niko grab for his cup, which was empty, thank heavens. Charlee settled the table and held it steady. “I have to go,” she told him. “I’m sorry.”
“But Charlee...” He got to his feet, bewildered. “So quickly?”
“Sorry,” she repeated, doing up the buttons on her coat.
Niko’s smile faded. “You buy coffee again. Tomorrow? With me?”
Charlee glanced out the window again. Asher was still there. Her heart squeezed. “I don’t know, Niko. It’s not a very good time right now.”
He caught her glance out the window and looked out himself. “I see,” he said quietly.
She bit her lip. How to explain Asher? Even she didn’t understand it. “It’s complicated,” she told Niko, and wanted to laugh hysterically at the wildly ironic cliché. Instead, she gave him a stiff smile. “’Bye, Niko.” She hurried away, heading for the doors out onto the street.
“Thank you, Charlee!” Niko called after her.
* * * * *
“You’re following me?” Charlee accused Asher as soon as she reached him.
Asher pulled his hands out of his coat pockets. “You sent Olivia back to the hall. I wasn’t going to let you wander around New York on your own.”
“I’ve been doing that for years and years,” she told him curtly.
“You’re Amica now,” Asher said flatly. “You think you aren’t a target, Charlee? You think your name isn’t on some list somewhere, as a person of influence in the Kine hierarchy?”
“I’m nobody. I wash dishes and clean halls.”
“Don’t be so modest,” Asher replied, his voice low. “You have Roar wrapped around your little finger. Eira thinks you walk on water, and the entire Einherjar complement in the hall thinks so, too.”
She shrugged. “Then tell me the angry expression you were wearing while you watched me through the window had nothing to do with Niko.”
“That’s his name?” Asher took a few steps in silence, then snorted. “It suits him. A stiff breeze could blow him away.”
“He’s as tall as you,” Charlee said defensively.
Asher smiled wisely. “If I stepped into the ring with him, who would you put your money on?”
Charlee gave up. “It was just coffee. I spilled his, so I bought him another one.”
“You looked like you were bored out of your brain.”
“He’s lonely. He has no one to talk to, I think.” She stopped herself from adding the other half of that thought. Lonely, like I feel so often.
But Asher must have seen something in her face or her eyes, because he turned to face her, making her halt in the middle of the sidewalk. Pedestrians were forced to step around them, but he didn’t seem to care. “Charlee....”
She shook her head. “You said it all, that morning in my room. We don’t have to go over it again.”
His gaze drilled into her. “Do you know how much I sometimes wish we had run away, that day? Gone to live on a deserted island somewhere?”
“The house with the picket fence?” She could barely breathe. The cold biting into her face and hands, the people all around them, the traffic that always sounded so much louder on the streets in winter, it all faded away. It was just Asher standing in front of her, and he was baring his soul.
“The house with the picket fence,” he agreed.
“But the war...the Alfar...” She bit her lip. “You would have hated yourself, if we had run away. You would have resented me for taking you away from the Kine.”
He didn’t answer for a long time, but just looked at her steadily. “You’re right,” he agreed at last. “I want to believe I wouldn’t be that ungrateful, but I couldn’t live with the guilt if I wasn’t here, now, doing what I’m doing. But I lie awake at night, Charlee, and I wonder if the price I’m paying for not feeling guilty is too high.”
Tears pricked her eyes. “I love you,” she whispered. “I always will, no matter what.”
Asher’s blue eyes were steady. Bleak. “You should leave the hall,” he said at last.
Charlee’s lips parted in surprise. She couldn’t think of what to
say.
“You can leave,” Asher pressed. “You have that choice.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “You can see how it’s going with us, just as I can. Probably better—you were always smarter than me. You could find somewhere safe. Australia. Bora Bora. Some sleepy little island that lives thirty years behind the times. Take off and settle down somewhere like that before it’s too late.”
Charlee tried to smile. “If the Kine fall, nowhere will be safe.”
Asher blew out his breath, frustrated. “You’re unhappy, Charlee. You hide it well, but I can see it. If you weren’t here, if you were safe, even if it’s for a while…if you’re not in my world, then you’ll be happier.”
Her heart was thumping unsteadily. Unhappily. Charlee tried to smile again, and this time it emerged—weak, but it was there. “I’ve made my choice, Asher. I would rather be unhappy in your world than unhappy anywhere else.”
Asher began to speak. Twice. But in the end, he just picked up her hand and pushed it into his coat pocket, his fingers curling around hers. They stayed that way all the way back to the hall. He didn’t even remove her hand when they walked past the guards, who looked away and pretended they had seen nothing.
Inside once more, Charlee slowly took off her coat. She was exhausted and it wasn’t even noon yet.
Asher caught her face in his hands, making her breath stall. She yearned for him to kiss her but knew he would not.
He gave her a small, sideways grin. “At the very least, Charlee, you’re never bored out of your brain with me.”
Then he let her go.
Chapter Forty
A week later, just as the activity in the hall reached a crescendo in preparation for the solstice feast, Lucas came home on Christmas leave. Charlee texted him back, standing in the kitchen with sweat on her brow and her sleeves rolled up well past her elbows. The smell of rich meat dishes and sweetmeats was thick in the air.
I can spare an hour this afternoon. It’s the solstice, feast tonight. Central Park?
2 pm was Lucas’ response. Bring asher if he is in town
Charlee sighed and got back to work. Since their conversation on the way home from the market, Asher had been scrupulously avoiding her. It seemed like he was always on duty or busy with something, but no one could be so busy and distracted, even someone carrying the responsibilities that Asher did.
It would have been simple enough to send him a text, or even forward Lucas’ text, but Charlee wanted to speak to him face-to-face, to tell him he didn’t have to avoid her anymore. He could come with her to say hello to Lucas.
But she didn’t see Asher at all and so when one-thirty arrived, she got ready to head out to the park. She left early. The kitchen had been so hot and humid that the thought of walking through the crisp December air, among the trees, seemed delightful in comparison. She wanted to wander the paths for a while on her own. It would give her a chance to think, without someone hanging on her arm, asking another impossible-to-answer question.
It was cool and crisp, beautifully so. The sky hung low overhead, steel grey with the promise of snow. The forecast was calling for heavy snow tomorrow, so it would be a white Christmas this year. Charlee considered the sky and wondered if the snow would actually wait until tomorrow.
There were a lot of people hurrying along the sidewalks, getting last minute shopping done, but their numbers thinned out once she stepped into Central Park proper. There were only a few people scurrying across its width, following the paths. The grass was white with frost that hadn’t melted under the weak light. The sun hadn’t appeared at all.
The trees were bare but their branches were so numerous that the bench-lined walkway underneath their intertwined arms seemed darker than the open areas of the park. Charlee slowed her pace, listening to the creak and rub of branches overhead. It was a curious sound. There was wind moving them, high overhead, but the wind wasn’t reaching ground level. It made her feel cocooned and safe, and she lingered.
“Charlee.”
Charlee whirled, fright thick in her mouth, her heart leaping hard. “Niko!”
He stood only a few paces behind her. He had been incredibly light on his feet. She had heard nothing. He was wearing the same overcoat, his hair was as tousled as before, but he wasn’t smiling.
“Were you heading for the market again?” she asked. “How is the job hunting going?”
He drew closer. “Hunting. Hunting goes well.”
Uneasiness touched her, keeping her original fright circling, her heart thudding. “Well, that’s good,” she said lightly. She turned as if she was going to head off again, and took a few steps away from him. It bothered her that he was drawing closer, but she didn’t know why.
Niko lengthened his stride, closing the space between them.
This time her fright was hot and energizing. She deliberately side-stepped to see if he would alter his direction and come closer.
He did.
Charlee let out a shaky breath. “Don’t come any closer!” she yelled.
He reached for her and Charlee dodged, turned and ran like hell. “Help me!” she screamed, hoping that the normal New Yorker’s indifference to people around them would be absent today. It was Christmas, after all. “Help! Help!”
Lucas would be close by now, too. “Lucas!” she screamed. “Help me!”
Niko landed on the back of her shoulders, and Charlee threw out her hands as she measured her length on the asphalt. Her gloves shredded with a low ripping sound and the skin on the palms of her hands stung. So did her knees, but it was her back that hurt the worst.
Niko’s weight was resting on her shoulders, holding her down. Charlee lifted her chin. “Help me! Help! Someone help!”
His hand slapped over her mouth, holding it shut with a painful grip. He hauled her to her feet. “Very good hunting today,” he told her and looked up at the sky, which was little more than grey diamonds and triangles glimpsed through the treetops. “Don’t—”and he shifted his shoulders. “Or this will hurt.” Don’t struggle, she interpreted.
Screw that, Charlee thought. She breathed in a full lungful of air through her nose, centering herself. Howard’s and even Asher’s soft instructions cascaded through her thoughts quickly, and her body automatically followed suit.
She grabbed his wrist, the one over her mouth, and with her other arm, the one he was gripping so tightly, she rammed the heel of her hand up against his elbow. It connected with the solidness of a baseball bat in full swing. It was a perfect blow.
It should have worked. But it didn’t. He didn’t move an inch, and his fingers merely tightened against her. Niko hissed and shook her. “Still,” he muttered.
Charlee stared at him. He had inhuman strength. The blow always worked—it was one of the most crippling joint attacks she knew.
Inhuman strength.
Charlee looked at Niko more carefully, taking in the odd details she had merely dismissed as foreign, not alien. The extraordinarily large eyes. The pale flesh. The hair that seemed too thick and glossy to be true.
He was an Alfar.
“Hey, asshole!”
Niko looked around and a fist crashed into his face. Instead of falling backwards, he just blinked and hissed. He spoke words that were unintelligible, and Charlee knew she was hearing the native language of the Alfar for the first time. He was holding on to her so tightly she couldn’t turn to see who had hit him, but she recognized the voice. Lucas.
With help so close by, Charlee lost all control. She struggled and wriggled, and flailed her arms and stamped her feet. Anything but stand still and wait for the outcome.
“Lucas, step back. Let me have him.”
Asher’s voice.
Charlee’s breath shuddered in gratitude and relief. She didn’t know why he was here, and she didn’t care.
Niko spun to face the new danger, and Charlee could finally see properly. Lucas was backing off warily and slowly, his fists held tightly at his sides. Asher stood directly in fr
ont of Niko, his sword held with the point reaching for the trees, both hands around the hilt. His eyes were flinty, hard and dangerous.
He attacked with a speed Charlee had never seen before, the sword swinging down in a curve that slid past her torso and buried itself deep.
Niko gave a soft sighing sound, but Asher didn’t stop there. He stepped forward and grabbed the Alfar’s face, his other hand still on the hilt of the sword that was skewering Niko. Niko’s grip on Charlee loosened and she shoved herself away, staggering across the walkway, wiping her mouth and moaning.
“Why did you want her?” Asher demanded, his face barely inches from Niko’s. He added something in a different language—the Alfar language, Charlee presumed.
Niko’s mouth fell open, as his gaze remained on Asher. Charlee had a feeling that he was offering the Alfar version of a smart-ass smile. Then he grabbed Asher’s wrists and yanked the sword blade up and across, opening himself up. Blood that was the same red as human blood spurted from his stomach and he crumpled, until he was hanging from Asher’s grip.
Asher threw him away with a disgusted sound.
Lucas grabbed Charlee. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, unable to look away from the body on the ground. “He pretended he was human. To trick me. They know us well enough to pass as human.” The idea was deeply unsettling.
“He’s Myrakar,” Asher said. He walked over to the body and wiped his sword on the coat hems, then let it disappear and put the hilt away. “They’re the smart ones of the three races. They’ve had to spend their lives adapting to the Lajos’ demands. But this is a new achievement for them. We’ll have to warn the others.”
Hot air washed over them, dropping down through the trees and with it came a deep, heavy throbbing that seemed to instill itself in Charlee’s ears and mind, making her bones ache with the volume and depth of it. She looked up and realized that she was duplicating what Niko had been doing. “Stay still,” he had warned her.
Alarm crashed through her relief. “Run!” she screamed at them. “The Alfar are coming!” Her voice was distorted by the sound overhead. It was a heavy strumming, like the sound of a very large engine.
The Branded Rose Prophecy Page 62
