I set my hands on my hips, not wanting him to see my discomfort. “You say you’re here to keep an eye on me, but I think you just want a free place to watch the game since you’re currently houseless.”
“You got me.” He winces at something on the screen, already engrossed in a pastime I’ll never understand.
Since I have nothing better to do, and going upstairs seems really awkward, I sit next to him. The guys in the yellow shirts are playing the guys in the green shirts. Someone throws a ball, another someone runs. There’s a lot of yelling, and I’m already yawning.
I end up playing on my phone, browsing through mindless social media. In an hour, my back is pressed against the armrest, and my legs are up on the cushions. It’s nearing the end of the game, and Rafe is leaning forward, his eyes glued on the screen.
That’s when I hear the faintest mew from outside the window behind us.
I sit up, listening. “Did you hear that?”
It’s not Charles. That spoiled cat is up in my room, lounging on his fleece blanket atop my bed. Apparently, he’s finally forgiven me. Either that or he’s using me for my pillows.
“Hear what?” Rafe asks, instantly on guard. He straightens, his muscles tensing.
“I thought I heard a cat.”
“Oh.” His stance softens, and he looks back at the screen. The announcer is saying something, and people in the stands look mad. “No, I didn’t.”
I stand, sure I heard something.
“Where are you going?” He’s already pulling himself to his feet.
“No, you stay.” I wave him back with my hand, not wanting him to miss anything. “I’m just getting some water.”
But I don’t head right for the kitchen. I take a right, moving toward the entry. It’s still light out, but the evening shadows are getting long. Slipping out the door, I make my way around the house, heading toward the east side. It’s darker over here, the sun blocked by the house itself, and the landscape is thick with shrubs. I stand on the lawn, bent over, looking into the bushes to see if I can spot the source of the noise.
Just when I’m about to give up, I hear it again. I step forward, dropping to my hands and knees. “Kitty?” I say, looking under the bushes. “Kitty, kitty?”
Something shifts in the shadows, something cat-sized.
“Come on,” I coax, patting my lap. “It’s oka—”
Before I can finish the words, the branches part and a small, taloned monster lunges right for my face.
CHAPTER THREE
I shriek before I can stop myself. It’s not a little yip but a full-out, shrill yell that will have the neighbors calling the cops in ten seconds flat. Then I fall back, hands over my face, waiting for the attack.
But sharp fangs never find my skin, neither do razor talons.
I peek my eyes open, my heart racing.
A black feline creature stares back at me, her eyes molten pools of gold. Ebony velvet wings are held close to her body as she sticks her head out, sniffing me. Two very long, sharp incisors grow from her mouth, taking away from the fluffy cuteness.
“Madeline!” Rafe yells, rounding the edge of the house, dagger in hand.
The winged cat hisses the moment she sees Rafe, and then she stretches out, revealing limbs that are longer than any domestic cat’s. She’s like a tiny panther, well-muscled for her size and angry.
Rafe curses under his breath, skidding to a halt, holding up his hands in surrender.
“What is it?” I demand, not sensing any immediate threat.
“Winged cat.”
Well, obviously.
After the scare, my heart rate finally returns to normal. “Why are you acting like she’s a rattlesnake?”
“She’s worse. One bite and you’re dead.”
I peer at the furry monster. If a cat fell in love with a bat, this would be their offspring. “Are you sure? She doesn’t look that dangerous.”
Rafe edges forward, trying to place himself between the cat and me. “She’s highly venomous.”
She doesn’t look quite so cute now.
The cat hisses at Rafe, the short fur on her back standing along her spine. She holds up her velvet wings, stretching them out, making herself larger.
“I think you should stop moving,” I say to Rafe, growing nervous. Though I don’t think she has any immediate intentions of hurting me, she looks like she’d be happy to attack Rafe.
Thankfully, the knight is smart enough to keep his distance. “I need you to send her away.”
He wants me to what?
And then I realize. He wants me to send her away—this creature of the night…a monster that should be well hidden in the shadows and is yet out at dusk.
“Go home,” I tell her, skeptical it will work. The gargoyles might have been a fluke.
She backs up and sits on her haunches, studying me. The longer I look, the more I decide she’s not a sweet little kitten. Her face is angular, and her eyes are narrow and exotic. She has the look of a feral creature, something that will eat you if you give her half a chance. Her eyes shift to Rafe, reminding me of the way lionesses watch strollers at the zoo.
“Try again,” Rafe urges. “I don’t think she understood.”
“Away,” I command, motioning for the sky.
Still, she stays put.
“It’s not working,” I tell Rafe, growing more and more nervous. What does it mean? Maybe I’m not who Rafe thinks I am. And maybe that means she’s going to sink her teeth into me at any moment.
“It’s not dark enough,” he answers, looking around.
“So what do we do?”
He backs up. “We return after nightfall and see if she’s still here.”
“You want to just leave her here? What about the neighbors?”
“Do they normally go crawling through your bushes?”
Funny.
I slowly back up, hoping not to spook the little, fanged monster. She watches me, eyes glittering in the shadows.
“Go home when you can,” I command, remembering to put magic into the words.
She tilts her head to the side, making me think I got through to her this time.
Slowly, I join Rafe. The cat crawls farther into the shadows, hiding, only her glittering eyes visible from under the bushes.
We move away slowly until we turn the corner. When we step into the rich evening sunshine, Rafe closes his hand around my shoulder and propels me into the house. “Just going to get a glass of water?”
I look up at him, feeling somewhat guilty. “I took a small detour.”
He rolls his eyes, walks me into the living room, and plops me down on the couch next to him, resting his hand on my leg to keep me in place.
In no time, Rafe’s wholly engrossed in the game on the television, and I’m wholly engrossed with his hand. It’s right there, on my bare skin, just above my knee.
Finally, the game ends, and the nightly news comes on. It’s a Denver channel, and they’re talking about a local school that started a community garden.
The knight’s hand is still on my leg.
A newscaster announces another wildfire started just outside of Colorado Springs.
The knight’s hand is still on my leg.
There was a shooting on Colfax.
The knight’s hand is still on my leg.
I’m practically burning up, waiting for Rafe to remove it, caress my skin, maybe slide his palm higher.
But he simply leaves it there, holding me down, making sure I don’t take off again.
About the time I’m debating whether I’m going to throw caution to the wind and swing my leg over his lap and seduce the man, Rafe holds up the remote and turns the television off. “Let’s see if she’s gone.”
Or here’s an idea—we could stay right here.
He stands, not seeming to notice the turmoil I’ve been in these last few hours. Armed with a dagger and a pistol and who knows what else, the knight steps into the night.
Armed
with a flashlight, I follow.
“How are you with light spells?” Rafe whispers.
“I’m decent.”
“Then what’s with the flashlight?”
“What’s with the gun?” I retort.
He laughs quietly as he steps closer, keeping me near. We creep around the landscape, and I shine the light into bushes, trees, and flower beds. The smell of the neighbor’s freshly cut grass and my mother’s night-blooming vines is in the air, along with a cool, fresh breeze from the surrounding mountains.
We search for almost an hour, but the winged cat is gone.
“What was she doing here?” I ask Rafe as soon as we go back in the house.
He looks slightly uncomfortable as he slides his dagger into a sheath at his side. “She came looking for you.”
Maybe it’s his ominous tone, or perhaps it’s the words themselves, that causes a shot of ice to travel my veins. “Why would she do that?”
With a flick of his wrist, Rafe manipulates the door lock with his magic. We Foxes, members of the Urocyon faction, are good with locks…though we’re better even at picking them.
Rafe doesn’t answer, which makes me extremely jittery. He begins to walk in the direction of the living area, but I grab his arm, yanking him back. Our magic moves between the connection, begging me to press against him. It’s almost as disconcerting as his silence.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” I use a bit of persuasion on him, but it’s not on purpose. It just came out.
His brow crinkles. “Did you just use your magic on me?”
“It was an accident.” I drop my hand.
He moves toward me, forcing me back. I try to dart to the side, but his hands capture my hips, and in one smooth move, he presses me into the wall.
My pulse jumps, and my stomach flutters.
It’s a little bit harder to remind myself I’m staying away from men when Rafe’s this close. And does my traitorous body care that my mind thinks I’m deplorable for the fickle attraction I’m having to the men in my life? No. No, it does not.
All it cares is that Rafe’s against me, and our magic is begging us to touch—no matter the consequences or how I’ll hate myself if I give in.
“You know it won’t work,” he informs me, making me scramble to remember the last thing that was said. Oh right—I used my persuasion on him.
“I know.” My voice is husky, and from the way the knight’s eyes darken, I assume he notices. Gulping, I add, “I didn’t mean to.”
Is that what this is? Punishment for using my magic? Because this doesn’t feel like punishment. It feels like—
Rafe grips my hips tighter, and my mind goes blank. Perfectly, completely blank. His fingers dig into my sides, but not in a painful way. No, it’s definitely not painful. He steps closer, pressing us flush.
Unable to help myself, I close my eyes and tip my head back, resting it against the wall behind me. “I thought we weren’t supposed to go here.”
“We’re not.” His jaw is near my ear, and his hands move from my hips, up my sides, over the thin fabric of my shirt. The tips of his fingers skirt the bottom of my ribs.
Fire follows the trail of his hands, making me want more. I’m just pressing closer when I freeze.
Rafe never lets us get this close.
“You’re distracting me,” I murmur, feeling foolish.
When I reluctantly force my eyes open, I find the knight’s mouth crooked with humor.
I give him a little shove, pushing him back. “Why did the cat seek me out?” I demand.
“Because you’re her master.”
I take a moment to process those words. “Excuse me?”
The amusement fades from his face. “The dark creatures—the creatures of the shadows—know you’re alive now. You’ve used your magic on them, and they are acquainted with the feel of it. I’m afraid when you sent away the gargoyles, you gave yourself away.”
“They? Are you saying there are going to be more of them?” I breathe, terror finding its way into my heart.
The monster cat wasn’t all that bad, but I’ve heard what kind of beasts lurk in the dark, and I want nothing to do with them. I certainly don’t want them showing up here, expecting me to…what?
“What do they want from me?”
“Instruction.”
They’re waiting for me to open the thresholds.
I bring my hand to my brow, feeling faint. This can’t be happening. One minute I’m graduating from finishing school, minding my own business, and the next, monsters are showing up on my doorstep.
My eyes search Rafe’s as I step forward. Desperation laces my voice as I say, “I don’t want this. I’m not evil.”
I’m not, right? Surely I don’t have to be, even if my magic wants it. I can choose my own path—Rafe said so himself back at the house by the sea where Trent left me for dead.
Rafe frowns. “If you continue to send them away, maybe they’ll get the point.”
But he doesn’t sound too sure of that, and I’m not either.
CHAPTER FOUR
Three Months Later
I sift through the mail Lillian left on the counter, pausing when I spot an elegant envelope. It's cream-colored, and the paper is a nice weight.
“What’s wrong?” Rafe asks from across the counter, his hand halfway into the ever-full cookie jar. Immediately, he abandons his snack and comes around the island. “What is it?”
“A wedding invitation.”
I stare at the names written in cursive, my irritation growing by the second.
“Whose wedding?” The knight steps beside me, reading over my shoulder. “Oh.” His tone is flat, even a bit wary.
I’ve been patiently waiting for Finn to break Maisy’s heart so I can step into my place in the guild. But he apparently proposed to her instead.
The young girl who was in love with Lord Finnegan cries a little on the inside, but the jaded woman I’ve grown into wants to crumple the invitation, toss it in the trash, and then light the whole thing on fire.
It seems Finn is capable of commitment—just not with me.
“Are you all right?” Rafe asks.
I can feel his eyes on me as he waits for me to show some sign of emotion. I slide the invitation back into the envelope and leave it on the counter for my parents to find. They got back from Belize a few days ago, and they’re leaving for New Zealand tomorrow. Now that the Grand Duke is half senile, my father has stepped up his duties, traveling more than before, making sure Aparians around the world are keeping in line.
What would Lord Bennet do if he knew who his daughter really was? Would he and Mother have adopted me when I was an infant? Would they claim me now?
I’ve never been shown anything but unconditional love, but what if this is too much for even them? With the revolving door of dark creatures that have been making their way through my yard, I’m beginning to wonder if it’s too much for even me.
It didn’t end with the cat—no. I’ve now been visited by all kinds of monsters, from the furry cat creatures that have become a downright nuisance to leathery, cackling hobgoblins. A month ago, I had to send away a two-headed serpent that was as thick as my waist.
I’ve been nervous since my parents got home. Thankfully, it’s been a slow week for the shadow monsters, and Dad and Mom are none the wiser.
Our neighbors, however, are starting to notice something is amiss. Greg Anderson decided it was time his wife started attending AA meetings when she began going on about seeing a black wolf with yellow glowing eyes sniffing around her lilacs last week. Dan from down the road reported a missing poodle, and Millicent Deverou claims she spotted a crocodile swimming in her pool when she was up getting a drink of water in the middle of the night a few days ago.
Rafe was wrong. No matter how many I send away, the creatures are not getting the point. Not at all.
“I’m fine,” I answer Rafe, dismissing the invitation, taking a sip of coffee. Now that the weather has
cooled, Lillian keeps a fresh carafe on the counter. It’s my favorite time of year. I like it creamy and sweetened with just a touch of raw sugar. Lillian keeps me well stocked.
“Are you sure?”
I look up, pinning Rafe with my eyes. We've grown closer these last three months, though he's still closed off when it comes to anything personal. That initial fire between us has cooled to a simmer, something manageable most days—mostly because my Obsidian Knight is suffocating.
He takes his duty very seriously. I’m waiting for the day he demands I stop wearing heels because I risk twisting an ankle.
“I’m not getting my apprenticeship, am I?” I ask out loud, talking more to myself than my knight.
Rafe frowns, his cobalt eyes creasing at the corners. “It’s not likely.”
Without a word, I walk from the kitchen and collapse on a couch in the living area. Lillian vacuumed today, and the rug still bears the lines from where she went back and forth.
Lillian has a job, one she enjoys. She has a purpose.
Rafe has a job, one he seems to enjoy even if he’s driving me mad. He has a purpose.
I have no job, nothing I particularly enjoy. I have no purpose.
It seems my only lot in life is sending away monsters. I’m nothing more than a glorified neighborhood exterminator.
I look around, taking in the room that’s full of my mother’s decor. It reflects her, reflects my father. And though I feel at home, it’s not mine. I can’t sit around my parents’ house forever, hoping some eligible Aparian man will knock on the door and sweep me off my feet. I won’t even find a man if I’m in this house all day, getting plump on Lillian’s cooking. (I’m winning the battle against her baked goods now, but it’s only a matter of time, especially with the holidays looming on the horizon.)
As I’m sitting here, wondering what’s the point, the doorbell rings. The loud, deep chimes slowly fill the house.
Rafe won’t let me answer the door anymore, so I don’t even bother to rise. I hear his boots against the hardwood as he walks into the entry, and then voices after he opens the door.
“You have visitors, Lexie,” the knight says when he steps into the room, still stubbornly refusing to drop the nickname.
Princess of Shadows (Obsidian Queen Book 2) Page 3
