by Caris Roane
He didn’t want to go back to the incessant stomach cramping he’d endured for decades.
For that reason alone, he was tempted to hunt Emily down, maybe keep her chained up somewhere just to feed him.
As his thoughts turned toward her yet again, he wondered if she was safe. He didn’t know what he would do if any harm came to her. He lived with enough guilt as it was because of Kyle. But if Emily was ever injured, or worse, he thought he might lose it.
She wasn’t without resources, however. The time-path would serve her extremely well. He’d watched her use it to simply disappear as needed. He’d been inside the extraordinary phenomenon as well, so he understood how it worked.
He went into the kitchen to prepare a meal. As he heated a bowl of bean soup in the microwave, he drew his phone from the pocket of his leathers and called Emily.
The phone rang several times until she finally answered. “Hey, Dev. I didn’t expect to hear from you. Is everything okay?”
He couldn’t respond right away. His heart was beating hard. He might have mentally set Emily aside, but his vampire body was so tuned into her that even the feminine resonance of her voice twisted his heart.
Why had he called? Right. He cleared his throat. “I spoke with Mastyr Stone about the events in Millerell, the battle with the wraith. He asked about you. I told him you were a blood rose.”
“I see.”
He heard her disappointment and pressed on. “Stone gave me a piece of advice about making sure you were safe. That’s why I’m calling. Have you been harassed or anything?”
Silence returned to him. He had no idea what Emily was thinking. When she still didn’t answer, he said, “I need to know you’re all right. You’re important to me.”
“Of course.” He heard an abrupt intake of air. “I’m fine, Devyn. You don’t need to worry about me. Honest. Vojalie was here a bit ago and she’s built mist around my property.”
Devyn was relieved to hear it. “That’s good. Excellent.”
“Yes, it is.”
Several questions rose to mind. He wanted to know more about her experiences time-pathing, what she thought of Vojalie, and whether she’d spoken to Davido recently. He wanted to know a whole host of her thoughts on a variety of subjects. He felt an almost unbearable compulsion to start asking and never stop.
It had been one of his fantasies over the years. Of course he’d pictured having sex with her as well. In a thousand different ways. He’d have these long stretches where he’d imagine taking her in every position possible.
Of course, because she’d been Kyle’s woman, guilt would descend and he’d shut the images down. For a while. Then they’d return, more haunting than ever.
But he’d also imagined conversations with her. Walks along the stream near her house, or in the nearby woods. Those fantasies always occurred after a family dinner at his folk’s house. Emily would often engage him in conversation or she’d chat with their dad. Kyle would usually turn on a soccer match in the other room.
Kyle’s death had taken more from their family than just a beloved son. Emily had been a favorite of their father’s and part of their communal life. But she’d never been comfortable going back after his death. Now Devyn wondered if it was because she’d been on the verge of breaking up with Kyle.
Her voice disrupted his thoughts. “Devyn, are you still there?”
“I am. Sorry. I got to thinking about my father, how much he always enjoyed your company.”
“I miss him.” Devyn then heard her chuckle. “He could always make me laugh. He was such a combination of both his boys.”
Devyn had never thought of his father in that light before. But he did have Kyle’s sense of humor, or perhaps the other way around.
He felt himself in danger, however, of falling into old patterns with Emily. She’d always had the ability to charm him. “Well, like I said I was calling to make sure you’re all right, I mean with your situation.” He’d almost called it a condition which would have sounded more like pregnancy than anything else.
“I’m learning to deal with it. I haven’t built a new supply yet or anything. But I swear, just talking to you – ” She broke off suddenly. “You know what, I have to go. But I’m fine. No need to worry.”
“If you need me...” He got the words out fast. He could tell she wanted to hang up.
“I’ll call if I need you. Good-bye, Devyn.” Then she was gone.
He stared at his phone. Scowled at it. Resisted the urge to give it a shake. Had she just hung up on him?
He sighed heavily. Another beer sounded really good about now.
His thoughts turned to the Wild Boar. Maybe he’d have a beer there. He’d be in Millerell and not far from Emily.
If she needed him.
Now why did that sound like the biggest rationalization he’d ever made in his life?
His jaw shifted around a couple of times. He swore he could smell her blood in his nostrils.
Stone had said it wouldn’t be simple and no, it wasn’t. He sat down and ate his soup. But once he was done, he still had a couple of hours to kill before his Guard shift started.
He definitely needed a change of scenery.
Without giving it another thought, he put on his uniform then headed to Millerell.
~ ~ ~
Emily shook head to toe.
One stupid, brief conversation and she was lost to the vampire all over again.
Dammit!
Worse. As soon as he’d mentioned her ‘situation’, she could feel her heart building a supply. For him! And he didn’t even want her.
She wanted to go out, that’s what she wanted to do. She wanted to find a vampire, any vampire so long as he wasn’t a mastyr and intent on bonding with her. Then she’d donate all she had. She might even have sex. She’d been without a man now for over a year and she was really feeling it, especially since she’d had the best sex ever with Devyn just a few days ago.
She blew the air from her cheeks.
She wanted to go out and she would have, except for her ‘situation’. She was afraid of meeting up with that mastyr again. She’d felt his power and only until a whole bunch of shifters had taken him on had she been able to make her escape into the time-path.
Surviving trumped sex. Except she shouldn’t have stayed on the phone so long with Devyn. She rubbed her chest. She was really feeling it now. She would probably have to call him anyway to get some relief, but she didn’t want to. She couldn’t bear the thought of being around him again, but unable to be with him.
She went to plan ‘B’. She changed into a pair of jeans torn at the knees, then slid into her ridiculous pink bunny slippers. She donned a dark gray t-shirt that hung off her shoulder but was so old and so comfortable she felt better the moment she shrugged into it.
With her slippers making a shushing sound on her slate tile floor, she went to the fridge and pulled out a chilled bottle of sweet German wine.
She opened it, then carried it to the cupboard housing her glassware on the other side of the island. She found the largest piece of stemware she could and began to pour. The damn thing held at least two cups worth. Maybe more.
She never did this. Yet somehow, especially with her heart aching all over again and her chest filling up with something meant for Devyn, she didn’t care.
She returned to her sitting room, settled into her oversized pink and green floral chair, and started to drink.
~ ~ ~
Once inside the Wild Boar, Devyn chose a seat at the bar to the right. He sat down, but angled his body so he’d be able to watch the door. He could see some of the street as well through the windows, though a number of beer brand signs cluttered up the view.
He heard the roar of several motorcycles from up the main thoroughfare to the east. A moment later, a riding club of shifters, most of whom belonged to the Tannisford Brigade, raced past making their usual entrance into Millerell.
He’d done it himself, when he’d owned a b
ike. Kyle had talked him into a Harley a few years ago. He’d enjoyed riding for a time.
The deal was you had to enter the town, roar through it, then circle back. For one thing, it alerted any interested females that the men were headed to the bar. For another, it felt damn good.
The bikes now roared back from the opposite direction, making their return approach. Seconds later, they slowed, revved, backed in and shouted at each other.
Not surprising, a group of dressed-to-kill women suddenly appeared from the alley opposite.
All the male shouting turned to whistles and catcalls. At least most of them would be getting laid tonight. He’d be getting … frustrated.
His thoughts instantly shot in Emily’s direction. But he threw a rope, lassoed them like an old, U.S. western movie, and hauled them back in. Nothing good could come from thinking about Emily.
He thanked Wanda for his beer then drank deep.
Several of the shifters had an arm around a woman as they barreled into the bar. Before the door had even hit the wall, they started shouting drink orders. Both Rachel, the owner, and Wanda, who tended bar, had already started filling glasses with the usual brew.
Rachel lined them up. She was smiling. She liked the rough crowd. Wanda, too.
One of the shifters who was still companionless, strolled up then leaned into the bar. “How’s it goin’, Wanda? You free tonight?” No subtlety there.
“Not for your furry, ass, Brim. Or yours either,” she added, shoving a glass at his friend. “So don’t bother with the compliments. Besides, I know for a fact Shelly and her girls will be here in a few.”
Both men whistled and slapped the bar with their palms.
Brim turned to Devyn. “How’s it hangin’? Shit, I love that American expression.” He chortled. “Mine’s hangin’ just fine.” He grabbed his crotch and gave a tug.
Shifters had their own way. And no, it wasn’t subtle.
“I’m good.” Devyn could lie with the best of them.
Brim scowled suddenly. “Didn’t I hear something about you fighting off a hardass wraith the other night? Some of my mates helped you out as I recall.” He drank from his glass with one eye on Devyn.
“They did. And yes, that wraith was odd, not the usual thing at all.”
“I thought we were done with that Invictus shit.”
Devyn shrugged. “I don’t know where that pair came from.” He knew why they’d hit Millerell. Once again, Devyn recalled the wraith saying Leonus had sent him to get rid of Devyn. But why?
Brim grinned. He was Guardsman big and had a lot of teeth. His smile alone won him all the action he needed. He slapped Devyn on the back. “Come back to save us all, did you?”
“Fuck off.” Devyn laughed then drank his beer.
Brim chortled.
His friend turned toward the door as a lovely elf and a pair of beautiful trolls entered. He pushed away from the bar making a beeline.
Brim glanced back as well. Though his eyes widened with interest, he didn’t leave the bar. Instead, he moved one bar stool closer, sat down then lowered his voice. “Listen, Devyn, something happened at the grocers earlier tonight. I don’t know if you heard about it or not. But Emily was in the store and had a run-in with a vampire none of us have seen before. Do you know anything about that?”
Devyn didn’t at first recognize the sensation that hit him. But it soon translated to his brain as a chaotic mess of rage and panic. Emily had said she was fine. She hadn’t mentioned being accosted.
He rose up from his stool and turned to stare at Brim. “What the fuck are you talking about? What kind of run-in? I need details. Now.”
Brim told him what he knew then added, “He was real strange-looking and had a scar down the right side of his face.”
“Shit.” Devyn felt every instinct he possessed light on fire. He wanted to hit something and even Brim slid off his stool and took a couple steps back. He lifted both hands. “I’m just the messenger, Dev.”
Devyn calmed himself enough not to hit Brim, then pushed his way to the door through the growing crowd of pleasure-seekers. Once outside, he flew into the air with his new level of speed. He rose higher than he needed then headed in a straight line to Emily’s house.
Once in the neighborhood, however, he couldn’t find it. Right. Vojalie’s mist.
“Fuck.”
Once more, he strove to calm the hell down.
He focused on Vojalie, hoping his new rise in power would allow him to cross realms and reach Merhaine telepathically. Merhaine Realm was where Vojalie and Davido had their primary residence. He didn’t know what he would do if he couldn’t reach the powerful fae.
Oddly, it was Davido who caught up with him. Hello, my boy. So glad you reached out to us. Yes, I know you were hoping for my wife, but she’s busy training that lovely fae, the one who teaches at your local university. Holly is her name.
Devyn levitated in a slow circle. What did he care about Holly?
He had to stay in motion or he swore he’d lose it. He had to find Emily. Now.
Stone was right. Making sure she was safe was everything. Everything.
I’m going mad, Davido. I just learned Emily was accosted by a mastyr when she was out shopping for groceries. Some shifters at the Wild Boar helped her escape. But when I talked to her earlier, she told me she was fine. Why would she do that?
Women, Davido returned enigmatically. They’re a different species, take my word. I once told Vojalie her new style of doing her hair made her look like a princess. She didn’t speak to me for a week. Do you know why?
Devyn had no fucking idea. He cared even less. He gritted his teeth. Why?
Because she hadn’t changed a thing in over a year. You have to be careful with their feelings. Did you do or say anything recently that might have put her off from showing you the courtesy you deserve?
All his indignation, his rage, fell to a low simmer. Had he hurt her? He’d probably cut her heart in two, was all. “Yes. But it’s complicated.”
“It always is.”
To his surprise, or perhaps because of Davido’s famous charisma, Devyn told him about refusing to see her again.
Let me understand. You made love to this beautiful, sensitive, gifted woman, you brought her to a righteous place of ecstasy which you admit to sharing fully, then you told her you couldn’t see her anymore?
When you put it like that. But it’s not simple.
Devyn, at this point, the woman owes you nothing because you’ve given her nothing. Stop being outraged and do the right thing here. She needs your protection, so protect her.
Devyn bristled. I would gladly do what you suggest, but I can’t find her damn house.
At that, Davido laughed telepathically and couldn’t seem to stop.
Finally, after what sounded like the troll was wiping his eyes and sniffing his nose, Davido said, My dearest wife left you a keyhole in the mist. Being fae and gifted, she knew you would need it. The aperture is fifty feet or so from the front sidewalk as you fly from the tall jacaranda tree in the parkway. You should find it at the pinnacle of the roofline. Once you locate it, use your hand like a key and you’ll be guided straight into Emily’s backyard. Don’t worry. Only you can access it. Again, my wife is very gifted.
~ ~ ~
Emily thought it a very odd thing that she could see Devyn hovering above her house at least twenty feet above her backyard. It was clear he couldn’t see her, which meant Vojalie’s mist was doing its job.
But what was Devyn doing?
She still had her wineglass in hand and to her discredit it was almost empty. She was feeling it too, the weighty sensation in every muscle of her body. She’d drunk swiftly to arrive at exactly this lazy, content state. She turned to her right and settled the glass on her bookstand then shifted to stare outside once more.
Maybe Devyn wasn’t even there. Maybe she was imagining him. Of course, if she was going to have a fantasy about him, he shouldn’t have any clothes on at
all, not a single scrap of fabric.
She giggled.
She thought about going back to the kitchen and refilling her glass. But now Devyn had flipped in the air on his stomach like he was flying like a bird.
What the hell?
She leaned forward. He was up to something. He had his right hand out in front of him. He kept wiggling it around, then suddenly, his hand went into the pink and green mist and kept going. His body followed.
What the hell?
He’d somehow found a way through Vojalie’s mist. But on what planet could that ever be possible?
Down he levitated, through the mist until he pierced the shroud and entered her backyard.
He looked around. It was a small space she loved tending. The brick walls were covered with clematis vines just starting to bloom. The grass was green. Most of the flowers in the different beds were pink. No surprise there.
She was a hopeless romantic and the vampire she wanted had just landed in her backyard.
She wobbled to her feet and nearly knocked her too tall wine glass over. She caught it and settled it back on its base. By then, he’d seen her.
She smiled and waved, but his lips were set in a grim line. He looked angry, but she couldn’t imagine what he had to be mad about.
Moving toward the doors, she almost tripped over the thick things on her feet. Right. Her sexy pink bunny slippers.
She giggled again.
Okay, maybe the glass had held more than two cups.
She unlatched the sliding part of the wall of windows and pulled it back. He levitated swiftly toward her.
When she stepped aside, he flew in.
“I see you made it through Vojalie’s mist. I’d better let her know it’s not as secure as she thought.”
“The mist is fine. Davido directed me to a keyhole only I can use. Vojalie prepared it for me.” He turned to her, his gaze taking in her lovely apparel, including the slippers. His scowl deepened. He dropped down to stand on the tile floor.
“You don’t like the bunnies? I think they’re adorable?” She wigged her toes which made the ears flop a little.
“What? Are you six?”
Her amusement waned. “I wear them when I’m sad. Okay?” She let him live with that. “What are you doing here, anyway? Do you want some tea or something? Coffee? Wine? I’ve got lots of wine. I stocked up a few days ago. I should have stocked up on other things as well. The cream’s gone off.” She was drunk-rambling now.
