Knights of Black Swan, Books 7-9 (Knights of Black Swan Box Set Book 3)

by Victoria Danann

  “Nuh-uh. You’re the one looking right now. You want me to play the role of newbie. Sure. I’m your guy. But only if you’re walking the walk.” He looked over his three team mates. “You want me to respect you? Defer to you? Maybe even admire you? Then start acting like admirable Black Swan knights.”

  It was that scene that Litha came upon. Glen faced off against the rest of his new team just royally dressed down by him. She appeared in the hallway where she was to meet Glen and pick him up, and was now looking at the four of them with apprehension.

  “Glen? You ready?”

  Hearing the soft voice behind him, he watched three pairs of eyes shift their focus away from him. He didn’t turn around immediately, but relaxed his shoulders while continuing the stare down with Z Team. Without looking away from them he let his face morph into a genuine smile right before he said, in fully human tones, “Yes, ma’am. I am. You’re right on time.”

  If the three weren’t already speechless, they would have been after seeing Glen turn and saunter over to the beautiful green-eyed witch. He submitted his left wrist while leaving his right thumb hooked in his back pocket. While they watched, Litha snapped the other half of the purple fleece lined handcuffs on Glen just before they disappeared.

  Raif whistled softly while Gunnar turned to Torn. “I think you’d better not call him rookie again.”

  Torn gave him a look that could kill. “Shut it, Gun.”

  “Come on, Irish,” Raif said. “You know he’s right. Time for us to grow up maybe. Yeah? Fuck of a thing that it takes a kid going all righteous on us to point it out. “

  Torn stared at Raif. “Maybe.” He gave Gun a little crooked grin. “But if I’m steppin’ over a line, you’ll be catchin’ fire from Wolfboy right along with me.”

  “Yeah.” Gun nodded like he was seriously contemplating one scenario after another. “You could look at it like that. Or you could just come to the understanding that it’s embarrassing for you to have not one, but two babysitters.”

  Torn’s grin fell. Raif laughed softly and pushed with his shoulder as he nudged by.

  “Fuckers.” Torn looked and sounded like a teenager who’d just been grounded.

  The Black Swan Vineyard, Napa Valley

  Glen didn’t have time to assess Litha’s mood in the passes, but as soon as they reached the vineyard and unhooked, he could see something was wrong. She’d brought them straight to the kitchen where an aproned Storm was stirring something that smelled like marinara.

  “Something wrong, Litha?”

  If Storm had looked over before Glen had voiced the question, he wouldn’t have needed to ask. The look on his face said it all, but it was punctuated by a shake of his head.

  “Nothing at all,” she said with a coolness that didn’t quite pass for nonchalance. “Why do you ask?”

  Storm shook his head again and turned back to the stove. You wouldn’t have to be trained to read signals like a Black Swan knight to know that Litha was lying.

  “Why do I ask? Well, it could be the look on your face or the tone of your voice. Or it might be the fact that every single muscle in your body is tight as can be.”

  “Hey!” Storm turned and pointed the spoon at him. “You don’t need to be looking so closely that you’re making judgments about the state of my wife’s muscles.”

  “Sorry, Litha. No offense intended.”

  She glared at Storm and clenched her teeth. “None taken.”

  Behind her back, Glen held up his hands as if to say, “What gives?”

  “Got the word today that retired knights have been recalled to duty.” He looked at Litha. “Temporarily.”

  Glen could have kicked himself for not anticipating that Storm being in danger could be a sensitive subject with Litha after all she’d been through. Glen nodded at Storm almost imperceptibly and walked up behind Litha.

  He almost whispered to her back. “Would it be better if I come another night?”

  Litha turned around and looked at the spot where Glen’s eyes were supposed to be. Then her gaze traveled upward. “When did you get so tall? And, don’t be silly. I’m not taking you back until I’ve stuffed you with pasta and grilled you about my baby.”

  Glen looked at Storm for an indication of what to do next. Storm just shrugged and gestured for him to sit down at the table.

  “You know,” she began, “you weren’t the only cute one in the hallway.”

  Glen looked from Litha to Storm, who had tuned into the conversation with an extra dose of interest. “What is she talking about?” he asked Glen like it was an accusation.

  Litha knew it was mean to try to rile Storm’s jealous tendencies, but she was feeling extra ornery. Before Glen could answer she jumped in. “Who’s the edgy one with the dreamy pale blue eyes and the tribal tattoos?”

  Storm gaped. “Dreamy blue eyes?” He looked at Glen like he thought Glen had set Litha up on a blind date. Then his brain cleared enough to register the rest of it. “Did you say tattoos? Since when do you like tattoos?”

  She didn’t look at Storm, but raised a shoulder prettily and left her answer at that. The cell phone she’d left on the kitchen bar rang. Storm looked over at it and announced, “It’s Elora.”

  Normally she would think it was rude to leave a dinner guest to take a phone call, but made an exception for Elora. “I’ll take it in the other room.”

  “Hi.” She answered while walking toward the back of the house.

  “Just calling to check on you. You seemed pretty upset.”

  “You’re not?”

  “Well, yes. Of course it’s not ideal, but it’s temporary.”

  Litha clenched her teeth involuntarily. “If I hear that word one more time today…”

  “Which word? Temporary?”

  “Ugh!”

  “Okay. So what’s your biggest fear?”

  Litha stopped dead still. “You want me to say that out loud?”

  “Well, since I’m not Song, that’s the only way I’m going to know the answer.”

  “I don’t think I should. It might be inviting, I don’t know, inviting… you know.”

  “No I don’t. Are you trying to tell me that you’re superstitious?”

  “I think superstitious is a weird word for somebody who works for Black Swan to use. Don’t you? Really?”

  “Okay. Let me start over. Do you have reason to believe that saying something out loud will make it happen?”

  “Yes. Sort of. I’m not sure.”

  “Way to be decisive.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Litha!” Elora started laughing because Litha didn’t normally use language like that and it sounded really out of place coming from her.

  “Okay. Here it is.”

  Elora waited for a full minute. “Where it is?”

  “I’m working on it. Don’t rush me.” Elora started humming the Jeopardy clock ditty. “I’m afraid a vampire will…”

  When it became clear Litha wasn’t going to finish the sentence, Elora said, “Bite him. You’re afraid he’ll be bitten by a vampire, turn into one, and have to be put down.” Litha’s silence was confirmation enough. “That’s what I thought. See? Here’s the thing. You’re thinking like a human.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re going to know when Storm is on patrol because you’re going to move in here with him until this is over. Right?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it. I guess so.”

  “So you know when he’s out on patrol. You could follow him. You could stay in the pass so that he’s visible to you, but you’re not visible to him. Or you could weave a protection spell or something like that, right?”

  “Elora. If you were here I would have to give you a big kiss.”

  “No, you would not. Rammel has my lips so swollen they look bee stung. I don’t need any more kisses today.”

  “Too much information. But I love you. And I thank you. You may have saved my marriage.”

  “
Well, as someone once said to me, I live to serve.”

  “If not my marriage, at least dinner. Glen is here. We’re going to try to get to the bottom of why Rosie is AWOL. Call you tomorrow.”

  When Litha came back to the kitchen, she was a different person. She breezed in with a radiant smile, gave Storm a big “mwah” kiss on the cheek and asked what she could do to help get dinner on the table.

  Storm was stunned and relieved at the same time. He didn’t know what Elora said to his wife, but she had wrought a bona fide miracle. He didn’t dare ask Litha about the change of heart for fear that she might be reminded that she’d been leagues past pissed just minutes before.

  With a nonchalance that took acting skills, Storm loaded a giant bowl of fettuccini with thick meat sauce and handed it to Glen, who practically put his face in the food. Litha giggled at the way their guest was inhaling the spicy aroma and making nummy sounds, while shaving fresh parmesan slices onto the Caesar salad she’d just finished tossing.

  “It’s nice to have you here, Glen,” she said turning back to the salad.

  He set his bowl down at the chair where he had always parked it for Thursday night dinners and straightened up to look over at Litha. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I’ve missed this.”

  Storm shut down his cooking station, took off his apron and grabbed the remaining two bowls for himself and Litha. “Sit,” he ordered, gesturing toward Glen with one of the bowls he carried. When all three were seated Storm poured Pino Noir into their glasses.

  Glen took a sip. “Hmmm. Not bad. I wonder if this is a local wine,” he teased.

  “Not bad, you say? I challenge you to find better anywhere at any price. We could charge ten times as much for this wine, but we like the idea of knowing a lot of people can afford to open it for a typical Thursday night in the kitchen.”

  “A man of the people.” Glen held up his glass in a toast.

  “Hear, hear.” Litha joined in raising her glass.

  Storm held up his own stem of ruby red liquid and corrected, “A wine for the people.”

  They clinked, drank and dug into Storm’s Neapolitan masterpiece.

  Litha turned to Glen. “Tell me something fun. What’s your latest news?”

  “Got my first assignment right before you picked me up. We, Z Team I mean, are going to Bucharest on Tuesday. Escorting a squint specialist on some unnamed mission. Something The Order wants checked out, I guess.

  “Anyhow. This is it. Tuesday night at this time I’ll be Sir Catch for real. Knight Errant. Off to see the world on a bona fide version of who let the dogs out.”

  Storm’s eyes twinkled with amusement and something that looked a little like pride. At least that was what Litha thought. She couldn’t imagine why Storm would be so much more emotionally engaged with the idea of Glen as hunter than he had been with the idea of Glen as administrator. But there it was.

  “Dogs, huh? That’s about right. I wish you weren’t making your bones with those…”

  “Don’t say it,” Glen interrupted. “They may be exactly what you’re thinking, but they’re also my team mates now.”

  Storm was silent as he looked at Glen thoughtfully. He tipped his wine glass, shoved a ridiculous amount of romaine lettuce in his mouth then smiled at Glen while he chewed. Glen read his own interpretation into that response and smiled back while Litha looked from one to the other wondering what was passing between them.

  “Is that who you were arguing with when I picked you up?” Litha asked semi-innocently.

  Remembering her comments from earlier, Storm’s gaze shot to Litha. “That’s who you were talking about?!? Gods cursed Z team?!? Dreamy eyes and tattoos?”

  Litha stared at Storm wishing to the Seven Legions that she hadn’t gone out of her way to get his jealousy juices flowing.

  “Yes. It was Z Team,” Glen said quietly. Storm and Litha were staring at each other. Neither acknowledged Glen’s comment in any way. “I’d offer to leave, but I wouldn’t get back until after I have to report tomorrow morning. I’d probably have to walk to the interstate then hitchhike to the airport and gods only know when I’d get a flight to Newark. And with the time difference…”

  Glen was desperately hoping to distract them with chatter. The air in the room was heavy. Glen hadn’t ever experienced the TV sitcom ideal of nuclear family life, but he imagined that was what it felt like to have parents argue.

  Finally, Litha reached over and rested her hand lightly on Storm’s knee. “You know I didn’t mean any of that. I was mad and worried about you. I guess I wanted to knock you off balance. It was childish. I’m sorry.”

  Storm looked at Glen. “Would you excuse us for a moment? Don’t wait for us. Go ahead and eat.”

  Glen looked at his food. “Okay, but yours is getting cold.”

  Storm pulled Litha up as he stood and guided her out the back door onto the porch. He closed the kitchen door, urged her a few feet away, and shoved her against the Italianate stucco wall. His delight at hearing her little gasp when he pressed his body into hers massaged away his jealousy. And he smiled at the sound of her little moans when he rocked against her.

  “Tell me I’m the only one for you.” She opened her mouth to do exactly that, but didn’t get past the first syllable before he covered her mouth with a kiss so heated one would have thought she’d tried to leave him. He broke from the kiss, “Tell me,” he demanded.

  Litha’s heart rate had accelerated so quickly that she was panting. “You’re the only one. There could never be anyone, but you.”

  The part of Litha’s brain that was still functioning normally was amazed that someone as strong and confident and beautiful as Storm could need that reassurance. And she was sorry she’d been dumb enough to make him feel emotionally threatened and question her single-minded devotion. That was where her thoughts had gone, when she felt her dress being raised.

  “Climb on, baby.”

  “Storm! What? No! What if Glen…?”

  “Glen’ll stay put.”

  He said it like Glen had no mind of his own, but was held in place by Storm’s will alone. That last word was punctuated with the pop of practically new raspberry lace panties being rent asunder and cast aside. She felt him open his pants and started to protest further, but didn’t get far before he lifted her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist of their own accord just before Litha felt her husband drive into her in one powerful thrust. She wanted to cry out, partly from surprise and partly from pleasure, but she didn’t want Glen to hear. Dinner and a sex show. No.

  Everything about the incident was out of the ordinary. Storm wasn’t the sort of lover who tore panties and impaled her standing up in the great outdoors. He was acting out a claiming, a primitive rite of territorialism. And she was enjoying it. No. Reveling in it.

  It didn’t last long and didn’t need to. It was short, fast, violent and loving. Ten minutes before she would have said that a phrase like violently loving was an oxymoron, but her sexy beast of a husband had just made nonsense of that notion.

  He sat her back on her feet with a sweetly lingering kiss that ended with a smug smile of pure satisfaction. Just to be sure she got the message, he ducked down to catch her gaze in his. “And don’t forget it.”

  If she wasn’t already married to the man, she would have swooned.

  He bent down and retrieved the ruined scrap of lace. After turning it over in his fingers a couple of times, he shoved it down into his pants pocket, but made sure there was just the tiniest hint of raspberry still showing. When Litha realized that he intended to walk back into the house like that, the swoon was replaced with outrage.

  “Storm. You are not walking around like that’s a trophy!”

  She reached for it, but he started walking backwards, smiling. “I’m not?”

  Litha lunged, but he, of course, was quicker.

  Glen looked up to see a smiling Storm rush through the door with Litha right on his tail. Her face was flushed and her lips were swollen. G
len hated himself for noticing that Rosie’s mother may have been a fantasy walking. She was Rosie’s mother for gods’ sake and noticing her attractiveness made him feel tawdry.

  “Have fun?” Glen wasn’t worried about a smack down. If they could politely excuse themselves to leave him sitting in their kitchen while they were fucking on the patio, he could afford a moment of teasing impertinence.

  Storm’s answer was a smile broadening into a grin. Litha blushed madly, smacked Storm on the abs with the palm of her hand, and retook her seat at the table.

  “Sorry, Glen,” she started. “We needed to clear up a misunderstanding. These things happen with married people sometimes.”

  Glen could think of about a hundred things to say, but wisely, said nothing.

  Storm turned to Litha and said, “What’s for dessert?” in such a way that made her wonder if the caveman behavior didn’t need to be curtailed.

  “As a matter of fact, I got a turtle cheesecake from Weingartens.”

  “Sounds great, doesn’t it, Glen?” Storm slapped Glen on the shoulder.

  Glen smiled at Litha. “Definitely! Butter pie with chocolate and nuts. What could be better?” Litha stared at Glen for a couple of beats. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. You’ve just made me seriously rethink eating that.”

  “Aw, come on,” Glen said good-naturedly, “with your figure you can afford…” At that point in the sentence, Glen’s brain reengaged as he realized that Storm was touchy about people noticing Litha’s looks. He didn’t have to look at Storm to know that he was glaring.

  “Yes?” Litha asked. “With my figure I can afford to…?”

  “I, ah, lost my train of thought.”

  Litha looked at the way Storm was glowering at Glen. “I’ll bet. Okay. Coffee with your butter pies?”

  Both guys said yes.

  Glen helped Litha clear, but she shooed him back to the table when she started making coffee.