by Dannika Dark
Logan growled with ferocity as his eyes raged like burning torches.
I leaned forward with my palms flat on the table. “Help me understand, because I need to know why a man who supposedly cares for me would risk leaving me alone for the rest of my life. Don’t you realize what you’re risking? This isn’t a situation on the street where you have no alternatives. You have a choice, and you can walk away from this a better man. How do you think I’d feel knowing that because of me, you got yourself killed in some challenge of honor and bullshit? You wouldn’t be the only casualty. Think of your family.”
Logan was seconds away from retorting when he bit his tongue and strode out of the room. A door slammed and water pipes roared behind the wall.
“And there you have it. Don’t ever date outside of your Breed, Finn. On second thought, just don’t date. I can’t take this, I just can’t,” I said, shaking my head. “If he challenges Tarek… it’s over between us.”
Chapter 17
Novis resided in a remote area of Cognito and due to the long drive, I dozed off in the back seat of Logan’s car. The tires rolled over a bump and I snapped awake when my head thumped against the window.
Tall, high-voltage fences circled the outer perimeter by the first gate. We exited the car while the guards searched inside, and I dumped myself in the backseat when it was over. By the time we hit the second gate, I was dozing off again. The doors opened and Justus stepped out of the car while Simon practiced a few new curse words and joined him. A stocky man with a fat jaw walked around the car and searched beneath it. I fell across the backseat and closed my eyes.
Several minutes elapsed and tapping sounds beneath the car roused me from my nap. The door suddenly opened and a heavy hand ran up my leg to pat me down. In less than a second, he was yanked out of the car.
“Lay another finger on my Learner and I’ll cut it from your hand,” Justus threatened.
Someone made a call and Novis instructed the guards to stand down. Justus switched off the classical radio station when we reached the front of the house.
“Wait in the car,” he ordered.
The Aston Martin didn’t have enough room for all of us, so Justus had borrowed Logan’s car.
”I’m bloody well freezing,” Simon complained from the front seat.
“Maybe you should have put on more than your undies,” I said with a snicker.
He fiddled with the vents, trying to turn on the air. “Doesn’t your boyfriend have a heater in this piece of rubbish? Had I known I’d be dragged out here and paraded like a whore while my balls were thoroughly inspected by Novis’s guards, I might have put on a pair of trousers,” he grumbled.
“Where did Justus go?”
“Talking with round three of the guards by the door. You’d have more luck getting inside a nun than this place.”
“You’re going to hell in a handbasket,” I muttered, rolling over.
“Get up, Silver,” I heard Justus say.
I must have dozed off again. I rubbed my sleepy eyes and peeled my face from the seat. Justus impatiently held my ankles and pulled me out of the car. I stumbled to my feet and leaned against him because let’s face it—the man’s a radiator and I felt like a cat snuggling up for a winter’s nap. He hooked his arm around my waist and we did a zombie walk inside.
“What’s wrong with her?” I heard Adam say.
“It’s past her bedtime.” There was a pregnant pause. “Your heroism did not go unnoticed,” Justus said with admiration.
“So why don’t you look me in the eye and tell me that? Save the speech for someone who cares. Feel me?”
“Novis is requesting your presence in his office,” a sharp voice interrupted.
“Take her,” Justus said. “She needs to rest after tonight.”
“What happened?”
“A couple of vandals were inside my home and she walked in on them. She’s all right,” he said, patting the top of my head.
Justus passed me to Adam and my shoes slid across the floor dreamily for what seemed like miles.
“Step up.”
Foreign words, of course. The tips of my shoes hit resistance and I came to a stop. “Carry me,” I said, remembering a time when Adam was all I had. Time overlapped and everything became fuzzy.
“You can’t carry her up those stairs; you’re going to break both of your necks. Just put her in the study on the sofa,” a woman’s voice said, edged with frustration.
“Shut up,” I muttered.
Light as a feather, my legs left the ground and that was as good as gold for my appointment to count some sheep.
The next morning I gave every stiff muscle in my body a vigorous stretch, the kind that makes you so relaxed that you could fall asleep again. A few strands of hair clung to my face and when I lifted my head, I stared at the stain of drool discoloring the brown fabric of a sofa.
The white glare from a small window cut my retinas like shards of glass. Beneath it was a small table and a couple of white bookshelves lined the walls. Nothing fancy; it looked like a peaceful retreat for having a cup of tea on a rainy day. My bare feet touched the chilly floor and when I stood up, my legs wobbled and I collapsed on my back. The door abruptly swung open.
“You okay?”
I threw an arm over my face to block the sun. “Adam?”
Two hands planted firmly on my hips. “For a minute there, I thought you were polishing the floor.”
We fell into our old game of banter.
“Bite me.”
“You’re way too sour. Here,” he said, pulling me up when I suddenly cried out. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“No, give me a second,” I said. “My leg fell asleep and it’s killing me. I’m not kidding, Adam. If you touch me I’m liable to throw up.”
I expected a retaliatory comment, but it was so quiet that I could hear the dust settling on the floor. Cold horror washed over me; it was the worst thing I could have possibly said to him.
He backed away and I squinted through the beam of light. Adam filled a dark corner and turned his head to the left. The right side of his face had one scar from jaw to chin, but the five o’clock shadow was longer than usual and trying to cover it. Still, the hair didn’t grow in very well and it was noticeable.
“Please, Adam. Come help me up.”
“You’re capable.”
“What are you doing on the floor?” a bright voice inquired from the doorway. It was Cheri.
Adam pivoted around and brushed by her, leaving us alone.
“Come with me,” she said. “I can lend you some clothes and show you to your room.”
After a few shakes, my leg cooperated and I limped behind Cheri, following her upstairs.
“How have you been doing?” I asked.
“I’m very fortunate that Novis took me in,” she replied. “It was supposed to be temporary, but it’s working out splendidly.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Cheri had never learned what it was to be a Mage until recently. It was something I could relate to and on top of that, Finn suggested one of Nero’s guards assaulted her when she was his prisoner. Poor girl.
Her perfume created a floral trail that was heavy, like a bouquet of red roses.
“This is the guest bathroom,” she said, waving her right arm. “There’s only one toilet on this side of the house.”
We reached the fourth door at the end of the hall and she paused. It felt more like a hotel than a house.
“This is your room. Novis wants Justus to take the first one by the stairs. He said it was an appropriate distance between a Ghuardian and his Learner.” She winked and my brows knitted at the insinuation. “You’ll have your privacy up here because the rest of us are in the other wing. There’re a few clothes in the closet—hope you like them.”
“Thanks, Cheri. I’m not really picky. Of course, I’m sure you figured that out by now from the show I put on at Novis’s party,” I said with an unpleasant twinge of guil
t.
“I don’t really remember what you were wearing that night.”
“Adam needs you,” I blurted out. Her eyes slowly crawled up to mine. “What I mean to say is that I’m glad you found each other. I know it must be difficult, but I think you’re going to help him get through this a lot easier. I bet he treats you like gold.”
We drifted inside the bedroom and she floated to the mirror, adjusting the blond locks of hair that fell to her shoulders. “He’s nice,” she said in a short breath. “But…” Her lips pressed together. “I’m going downstairs. If you get hungry, we keep leftover scraps in the kitchen before throwing them out to the birds.”
The door closed with a hollow sound.
Adam was smitten with her and Cheri calling him nice really put me off. Nice is buying someone a cookie or visiting a lonely aunt. Nice is not how you describe a man who stands by your side and nurses you through the darkest period of your life—reminding you that it’s possible to be happy again.
Still, she must have been a better woman than I gave her credit for because she stuck around even after what had happened to him. I put my doubts aside and surveyed my room.
The accommodations were modest: A twin bed, mirror, dresser, and two sitting chairs tucked on either side of a small table by the window. Apparently Novis enjoyed light colors because the walls were pale yellow and the furniture celery green.
I selected the least hideous of outfits from the closet and put on a dress. My face soured at my reflection. My long legs looked awkward in the outfit, which was a mix between country and church. It hung to my calves and she hadn’t left me any shoes. I pulled off the belt attached to the turquoise monstrosity and tossed it on the bed. The last thing I needed was something to accentuate my narrow hips.
Long, black hair covered my broad shoulders and I pinched my cheeks for a little color. Let’s just hope the fashion police weren’t on patrol.
I headed downstairs and stepped through a waterfall of sunshine pouring in through a large row of windows. The house was a tomb and lacked the warmth of a home. Looking up at the cobwebs in the corners of the tall ceiling, I surmised there was little preparation in the move. A spike of energy suddenly pricked my skin and I jumped.
“Can I offer you a plate of food?” Novis asked politely.
I spun around on my heel and he was standing in the open doorway. “Yes, please. I thought I could hold out until lunch, but I’m starving.” My stomach made an embarrassing sound and Novis suppressed a smile.
He scrunched his black hair so that it stuck out in every direction. By physical appearance, Novis was close to Finn’s age, and he even sported black cargo pants and a cotton shirt that made him appear even less ancient. His casual appearance clashed with the flamboyance of his mansion; the money all but dripped from the ceiling. It wasn’t flaunted in an arrogant manner, but Novis had acquired many collectibles in his lifetime and the décor was not cohesive.
“Thanks for opening your home to us, Novis. I hope it doesn’t put you in a bad position with the Council.”
“You’re more than welcome here, Silver. The important thing is that no one was hurt when you walked in on those men. Come, there is food prepared.” He placed his hand lightly on my back and I joined his side. “You don’t seem impressed with the other members of the Council.”
I shrugged, not wanting to say anything inappropriate. “I’m sorry about the way I behaved at your party.”
He laughed lightly. “Which part? The scandalous attire that broke my dress code or the fourteen lives you saved? No need to apologize, it is I who should make amends for being the owner of that sword.”
He sighed, clearly displeased as we moved through a long corridor dressed with paintings on the wall. “What you did to help Justus was admirable—a true display of your unique ability. The first time I tapped your energy, I sensed there was something different about you. There was a shadow blocking—no, guarding your light. You’re the reason that Adam is my progeny, and he has proven himself a loyal Learner. I fear, however, that his progress has taken a few steps back with the recent turn of events. Only time will mend the tragedies of the past.”
“I see you took Cheri in as a permanent resident. I thought she would eventually go out on her own, or be appointed a Ghuardian by the Mageri.”
Novis paused and lowered his tone. “I’m not so sure how permanent that will remain.”
There was an awkward silence as we entered the kitchen.
A small table filled the corner and I took a seat. It was bright and cheery with a semicircle of windows surrounding the table. Quaint was the term I was searching for when describing the room, which seemed out of place with the rest of the house—the kind of kitchen you’d find at your grandma’s house. Wooden cabinetry, white tiles, and a fresh fruit bowl by the sink.
Novis uncovered a plate on the counter and carried it to the table with a pitcher of orange juice. He seemed like a real easygoing fellow, except that he was eons old. That in itself was intimidating—to see the experience of age behind those sparkling, young eyes. On my third bite of my buttermilk biscuit, he restarted the conversation.
“I want you to know that you can confide in me. If there is information that must remain confidential from the Council for their protection, then I will honor that. I fully support the Mageri and my top priority will always be to uphold the law, but some situations are… delicate. My gift to you is my trust. Justus prefers for his affairs to be private, so I knew it wasn’t his idea to call me over the other night.”
A smile crept across his face as he studied me with keen eyes. “You don’t have to choke on the biscuit. Swallow, and taste the juice,” he said, sliding the glass toward me. “This is not an accusation.”
Thank God. I hadn’t chewed since he began talking and I thought I was going to need the Heimlich maneuver. Some immortals were elusive with their words—speaking in riddles—so his motive wasn’t clear. I swallowed hard and chased it with a few gulps of freshly squeezed juice.
“Why are you telling me this?”
He sat back in his chair and studied me. Behind the black lashes were the palest blue eyes I’d ever seen, reminding me of Siberian Huskies.
“There are times we cannot always confide in our Ghuardian or Creator. Their duty to protect will often close an open mind. You have leverage in your home, whether you believe it or not, and a Learner is not without power to influence decisions. I’m willing to help should you ever need it. That’s all I wanted to say. Now go ahead and enjoy your breakfast more slowly.” He smiled and raised his brows. “I have some personal business to attend to.”
Novis left the room and I nibbled on a slice of tomato, watching a bird dive at a squirrel. The wind bullied a wooden swing, knocking it against the trunk of the old oak tree outside. Novis was a curious fellow because it was obvious that he kept some things the way they were from the previous owner of this house; as if he secretly wanted to be part of that normal world that humans live in.
My mind was reeling, wondering why he wanted to reiterate his trustworthiness.
“And Silver?”
Startled, I looked up at Novis, poking his head through the open door. “Yes?”
“I’ll see if I can rummage up some suitable clothes. That dress…” His voice fell to a teasing whisper. “It’s not you.”
Chapter 18
1 Message Received 6:34am
Logan: I’m sorry. Msg me when you wake up
Silver: Hi. You there?
Logan: Forgive me. When can I see you?
Silver: In your dreams
Logan: Don’t tempt me, I made a promise. How long will you be away?
Silver: I don’t know
Logan: What do you know?
Silver: I miss you
Logan: And I miss you, Little Raven… every time I shower
Silver: You are so wrong for that
Logan: Smite me. Do you feel safe there?
Silver: It’s a beautiful fortress<
br />
Logan: Perfect. I’ve arranged for Sunny and Knox to stay low for a while. I know how you worry.
Silver: Where are they?
Logan: Can’t say
Silver: I’ll call you later tonight after my shower
Logan: Now I’m jealous
Silver: Of what?
Logan: The soap
I tossed my phone on the bed and hurried into the hallway. Just as I turned the corner, I ran into Adam. He quickly spun around with his back to me, ruffling his hand through his thick, brown hair.
“Are you going to hide from me forever? Because I don’t think this is very conducive for our conversations,” I said.
A layer of anger coated his tongue. “Do you think this is easy for me?”
When he tilted his head, I could see a fraction of a mark on his right jaw. I wanted to cry and throw my arms around him, but I remembered Novis’s words about what a man needed, and it wasn’t pity.
“No, I don’t, Adam. I wish it had been me.”
He spun around and shook me. Hard. “No, you don’t.”
Shocked by the forceful way in which he handled me, I pulled away and looked up.
Adam lowered his eyes. The scar on the left side of his face was the most prominent because it ran from his hairline down to his cheek, about an inch above his mouth. It cut straight through his eyebrow and left a mark where the hair didn’t grow; he was lucky he hadn’t lost his eye. The right side of his face had an angled scar running from the temple down to his chin. Not even his five o’clock shadow covered it up. Curved scars ran along the inside of his right arm and bicep—probably where he tried to block the glass as it struck him. A small cut marked the right side of his neck and made me realize how easily he could have had his jugular severed. Where else was he scarred?
