by Mima
Adam spoke calmly. “The wound was spelled. Any bigger, and she would have bled out by now. Your indulgence could have cost her life.”
As if she wouldn’t have noticed herself bleeding to death. She’d just been distracted. “I won’t stand for such an invasion of privacy. Give it!” She tried to reach around him, but with a twist of his big body, he kept the phone away.
“It’s done.” Pause, angry chatter. “Of course I did.” Pause. “If you were worried about that, you should be here yourself. Goodbye.” Adam closed the phone and tossed it into the other room where it landed on the couch.
Curiosity burned through her at the exchange. What had Markos been worried about? “Listen, we need to set some rules.” Dammit, her voice sounded more breathless than irritated. She told herself it was from the echoing pain of the cleansing, and not the fact she’d had her hands all over those warm, muscular shoulders.
“You need to rest. You’re gray.” He leaned in and sniffed.
She reared back. “I’m what?”
“You look sickly. And you smell sick.”
“I was sick. By the way, watch where you step in the bathroom.”
He folded his arms. “How long have you been getting sick after the dreamtime?”
Oh, terrific, now he’d doubt her ability. “It’s occasionally my reaction to some of the more creative visions Aqua shares, not a sign of failing power.”
“How do you know if there’s no one here to tell?”
Xia gritted her teeth. She gritted them so hard she spoke through them. “I. Know.”
“You’ve been here a month. All of the Chamber’s other morphi lasted a week or two. It’s entirely probable you’ve been weakened.”
Xia preened. One hand rose to her throat. “Really? I’ve outlasted all the others?”
“Did he tell you one pair died?”
The hand clutched her robe closer. “What!”
“A morphi, young, and his rampart. On the first night they were here.”
A horrible premonition shook her that had nothing to do with magic. “When?”
“Last winter, on St. Stephen’s Day.”
Xia closed her eyes. So that was how Tibor died. In battle. In vain. The room dipped under her. Possibly in this very house. In that bed. She turned away from him, very carefully opening the cupboard to take down a mug.
“Thank you for telling me. I’m tired of the Chamber’s decision to hide the circumstances of morphi deaths.” She filled the electric kettle. Got the honey with a shaking hand.
His hand came in and took it from her. “You’re missing my point. How well do you know Markos? Because from my end, it looks like he’s trying to kill you at worst, burn you out at best.”
Never let it be said Xia didn’t learn. She wouldn’t wrestle him for her honey. She opened the tea ball, choosing chamomile. “I asked him if I was being transferred to you, and he sidestepped. Am I changing teams? Are you now my advocate?”
They stood in silence as the water burbled in the little quick heater. The light popped off, telling her it was ready. She made the tea. He put the honey down next to her. She used it.
Belatedly, she asked, “Would you like a cup?” He so befuddled her she lost her manners.
“Later.”
Yes. When she was sleeping, he’d be watching over her. Taking the tea, she went to the couch. Numb, she sat on one side and stared out the window. Morning mist hovered over the dim field beyond her scrap of lawn. His car was a beat-up old Rover, nearly antique. She remembered when the model first came out. She’d thought it ugly then, too. Simply holding the cup soothed her, settled her. She was alive. She’d succeeded in gaining some information. And now she had an ally, of sorts.
To her surprise, he sat on the other end of the couch. His thighs sprawled wide and his legs stretched across half the room. He leaned his head against the back, at ease. It irritated her, this comfort he had in a strange home. The presence his big body had on her breathing. Eventually, she drank her tea. By the time she put the mug down, the sky was light blue.
“I’m going to take a shower. I’ve got a fair bit of cleaning to do.”
Adam stirred. “If you’re not going to rest, I should go to work.”
So much for sympathy, concern and tender care. “Sure. Catch you later.”
The thought of working on the bloodstains all over the couch, rug and sheets made her tired. She would not ask again about her assignment. Screw them both for being too cowardly to tell her. Did they think she would rage? Cry? She’d do her job regardless of who her boss was.
An image of the last time she’d been in bed with Markos flashed through her mind. His burning hand in her body, his mouth on her breast, her hands full of his hard ass, tracing his barrel chest with her tongue. She turned her head and finally looked at Adam.
He watched her with those eerie black eyes. His light hair was tousled, curling behind his ears and boyishly laying over one eye. His skin was tanned, and he had nice crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Lips in a thin line, he was silent. Oh, this relationship was going to be fantastic. Simply ducky.
She stood abruptly, summoning a bright, fake smile. “Well, thanks for coming over and dousing that spell. I’m not going into the dreamtime today. I’ll be running Markos a message before I go to bed. Why don’t you come over around midnight?”
He stood, ruining her advantage as he towered over her. “All right.”
Chivalry was dead. No arguing that she pushed herself too hard. Just an accusation of treason at Markos and an “all right”. Half expecting some pithy comment at the last moment, she watched him walk out and get in his car.
The Range Rover drove over her lawn as it turned to go down the long path to the road. She gathered cleaning supplies, hissing at the burn of her arm. Fighting not to cry, she lifted her chin. Xia was a psychic warrior, and she’d scored a hit last night. But war wasn’t glamorous. And it was damn lonely to boot.
Chapter Three
The day consisted of cleaning, laundry, going for a walk, inland, and preparing for the hailing she’d send Markos. Even if he wasn’t her advocate anymore, he had been when she’d dreamed last night and he would want this information. She knew it. Of course, Adam would get the information too, as he’d be her rampart while she performed the ritual to pass the message.
The smell of warm gingerbread filled the house as the sun set. Her body was exhausted from last night and today. There would be no naps without her rampart to watch over her and make sure the assassin didn’t finish the job while she was unconscious. A cup of tea and a plate of the soft, spiced cake accompanied her outside where she sat on a blanket under the apple tree.
The gloaming was truly beautiful, and she was always working the dreamtime during it. She rested and enjoyed the peace of extended twilight. The sky held rich, deep pastels for hours, roaming from peach to pink to lavender. The regret she held at missing this beauty was mild. She had a duty, and it was more important than admiring a pretty evening. When it got dark, she went inside.
One side of the couch was still damp from her cleaning the upholstery. Curling up in the corner, she called her sister.
“Hola.” Tony’s voice sang clearly straight from Xia’s ear to her heart.
“Antonia, it’s me.”
“Xia! I got your email from last week. Those shoes are to die for, but not while you’re stationed in the wilds. Those shoes say New York, love.”
Xia smiled, resting her head on the couch back. When things got this tough, it was good to be reminded of the reason she faced the dreamtime night after bitter night. “I could wear them around the house while I clean.”
“Shuh. Sexiest maid in Scotland.”
“I’m nobody’s servant.”
“Sister dear, you’re the world’s servant.”
“The world’s Four are in constant flux. I’m proud to assist the magical community.”
Tony sighed, deeply. “You have a responsibility complex.”
> Mom. Dad. The police telling her they were gone while Tony slept in the other room.
She tried to distract her memories and her sister with humor. “The world is in deep shit, Tony. I can help.”
“The world is in deep water, Xia, and you’re so in over your head. You already played in her pool and shouldn’t have to anymore.”
Xia shuddered, a memory of Aqua’s hate and violence swirling through her. The mission where Xia had become subsumed into Aqua’s consciousness was the blackest moment of her career, personally and professionally. I Returned. I’m out.
“When are you going to take a vacation?” Her sister posed the usual question with deceptive mildness.
“Actually, I took tonight off, so there.” Small fib. Since she wasn’t going into the dreamtime, it was technically true.
Silence. In the background, some tropical bird shrieked. So pretty, but so obnoxious. Like her sister, actually.
“What happened?”
It was Xia’s turn to sigh, deeply.
“Xia?” Her sister’s voice was high and tight. “It’s time to leave Scotland. You’ve been there too long.”
“I’m fine, Antonia. Just called to talk.”
“Oh, Xia. Please, be careful. Let Markos get you a rampart, at least.”
Xia laughed weakly, rubbing her gritty eyes. “Yeah, funny you should say that. I picked one up today.”
“Wonderful. Oh, I’m so glad! You resist this, but you’re not Wonder Woman. Everyone needs help, and this is a tough assignment.”
“It is.” Xia’s grip on the phone tightened. Woops.
Silence.
Damn. Just that admission slipping out would get her sister going. “Just leave it, Tony.”
More silence. Miraculously, she did refrain from her usual diatribe against Xia’s job. “Is he cute?”
Xia swallowed, considered her old jeans and shirt. “Yeah.”
“Cuter than Markos?”
Markos’s Greek masculinity flashed into her mind’s eye. Golden skin, warm brown eyes under a heavy brow, arrogantly sharp nose and chin. Tall, thick arms and stocky legs, with a soft black pelt running down his torso. Hung like a bull took on a new meaning when you were a minotaur.
“He’s really different than Markos. Not at all the same class of cute.” Curling her feet tighter underneath her, she rubbed her neck.
Adam was lean, each muscle sculpted with a sharp edge. His face was broader, yet more aloof. His narrow hips beneath wide, strong shoulders were just made for a woman to wrap her thighs around. Xia shivered.
“Is he married?”
Her heart stung. “Widowed. Twice.” Reading his file hadn’t taken much time. For a being 237 years old, it had held few details.
“Ahhh, too bad. Is he a witch?”
“Want me to just send you his file?”
“Would you?”
Xia laughed. “You goon.” They both knew she couldn’t.
“So is he?”
“No. He’s a selkie.” Pausing, Xia debated sharing the bomb. She knew she shouldn’t, but the ache that had driven her to call Antonia burst from her in words. “And he’s an elemental.”
“Whoa! Not Aqua, though, right?”
Xia swallowed. “Yeah. He’s Aqua.” She held the phone away from her ear in preparation.
“That is fucking bullshit.” Tony could out-screech a harpy. “What a fucking asshole to make such a fucking colossal mistake. You go back to Markos and tell him to shove his Aqua elemental right up his black hairy ass.”
Laughing, Xia stood and began to turn on lights. Her arm barely ached. “I can always count on your eloquence in my defense.” Her sister’s fury calmed her.
“Xia! You call him or I will.”
“If you think about it, it’s not as stupid as you’ve concluded. Fighting fire with fire, as the case may be.” She sat back on the couch.
“Puh-lease. A raindrop against the ocean. When you’re up against the element, you don’t take one of its minions as a guard.”
Still chuckling, Xia defended the poor man who had put up with her only sibling’s ire for many years. “Markos didn’t assign him, Tony.” The file had had one ominous word listed in the box for Adam’s supervisor: Chamber. Adam played in the big leagues. It explained why he seemed to have no morphi team of his own already. “In fact, I’m not sure Markos is calling my shots anymore.” Raindrop. Xia mentally snorted. He was no raindrop, but she’d have to remember that one.
“Oh, Xia. I’m so sorry.”
The quiet mourning in Tony’s voice made an image of Markos’s crooked pirate’s grin spring into her head. Not that moving to a new team would sever her eighty-six year relationship with Markos, but it was hard to imagine working with anyone else. Her belly fluttered with uncertainty. It didn’t seem real, that her life was possibly out of Markos’s trusted hands. “The thing is, I’m not sure. They won’t tell me.”
“Weird. Irritating, secretive bastards.”
“Yeah. Exactly.” Xia switched the phone to her other ear.
“How can they not tell you who your boss is? They have to tell you sometime, don’t they?”
“You’d think.”
In silence, both women mulled over the puzzle that was bureaucracy.
Xia changed the subject. “How’s the volcano?” Tony was a volcanologist. She was also a witch with a recessive gene and no powers. Her bitterness at this twist of fate had led to her choosing one of the most dangerous jobs on the planet. Xia lived for the day her little sister would retire from fieldwork and get a nice, boring university position.
“She’s a talkative one. Got lots to say. Before we leave this, Xia, I want you to know that I worry about you. I’m really happy you have a rampart, and please, please, please don’t try to limit him.”
“I—”
“You know what I mean. You try to control your ramparts, worrying like a mother hen. You’re totally overwhelmed with responsibility, and it’s ridiculous. Let him do what he signed on for. Quit being everyone’s big sister.”
“I found out how Tibor died. It was here. He died here.”
Silence. “Fuck.” The word vibrated with the echo of their shared despair.
“His morphi died too. He was young, a boy.”
“Not a boy. A man, even if he was young.” Tony’s voice was scratchy.
Tibor strong and tall at his rampart graduation ceremony. Tibor holding her during her own difficult morphi training, giving her his elven peace. Tibor’s orange hair bouncing against the green hill as they rolled down it like giggling logs. “Now we know.” Xia rubbed at her eyes, determined not to cry. She was old enough to know tears didn’t help.
“Yeah. It’s good to know. I’m sorry the morphi died.”
It was a rampart’s creed: If the element takes notice, save the morphi. To fulfill their role as shield and protector with the ultimate sacrifice was a vow of honor that Xia had never accepted with grace. Just one more responsibility for her to shoulder as she sank into the dreamtime.
“I’m sorry too. Tibor… I hope he went first. I don’t want to think of him knowing his morphi died.” Xia felt her throat swell up at the thought of her friend believing he failed.
Tony’s soft sob came over the other end. “Oh, dammit. Dammit. Tibor… I miss him.”
Hearing the wild grief in Tony’s voice over the loss of their childhood friend, even after half a year, stabbed at Xia. She tried to speak with a steady voice. “He was practically our brother. We’ll always remember him, and be stronger for it.”
Tony snarled at her. “Oh, shut up with the strong-soldier routine. It hurts.”
“Yeah.” A tear slipped down her cheek, cool over her burning cheeks. “Yeah.” She dashed it away, then wiped her hand on her jeans, erasing the liquid.
“I mean it, Xia.” Tony’s voice was hard as the volcanic basalt she studied. “You focus on listening and watching, and let your rampart guard your ass. If you’re dancing around trying to watch him, you�
�re not doing your duty and you make his job harder.”
Xia nodded, but inside, she remembered the horrible pain, real even though the damage was psychic, that Aqua subjected her to. The thought of letting Adam take that pain, all so she could get a few more seconds of focus, made her nauseous. She wouldn’t even consider that a rampart could and did sometimes die to save the rarer morphi who acted as the world’s window into the elements. “A goat named Macgregor ate your hat.”
Silence. “Damn goat.” Her sister sniffled and cleared her throat. Both of them were very good at packing pain away. “I thought there were supposed to be sheep in Scotland.”
The conversation turned to Mexico as Xia scrubbed her tears away. By the time their chatter ended, she only had time for a quick shower. Well, all her showers were quick since she’d had this assignment. The touch of water on her body was no longer pleasurable, ever. She dried off hard enough to make her pale skin blush.
Tucking the towel around her breasts, she was glad their first pairing wouldn’t be a dreamtime romp in Aqua. Tonight she’d take Adam on a simple astral walk to give Markos last night’s news, and then he’d guard her sleep against the assassin. But soon, he’d be more than her rampart. He’d be the anchor her soul depended on. Her stomach churned and she lifted her chin.
Chapter Four
Xia was listing in the corner of the kitchen counter when Adam came in at midnight on the dot. If she sat down, she’d fall asleep.
“Xia?” His voice rolled out through the small room.
“Here.” She heaved a sigh and found the energy to shuffle forward away from the counter. “Hello, Adam.”
“Hello.” He hung his thumbs in his belt loops.
She swallowed when the ridge of one hipbone appeared from the sagging cloth. No other conversation came from him. No follow-up on her arm, no inquiry to her health. She would be professional, calm and mature.
“I have a private message to send off. The ritual is set up in the bedroom.”
He raised one eyebrow. “You have the energy for that?”
Through gritted teeth she managed, “Yes.”
He folded his arms. “I’m surprised you had the wisdom to wait for me. I was sure you would attempt magic without me today.”
