by Paula Quinn
He wasn’t in the frame of mind to ignore the obvious anymore. He hadn’t transformed anyone in over fourteen years. He’d practically dropped off the face of the earth and, still, they…she had found him. The Bane was never going to stop hunting him. “I know why you’re here,” he said, pausing his steps and turning to look at her. “Why you befriended my sister. I know you’re Bane and I know why The Bane was created. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just want to be left alone.”
She didn’t deny any of it. She looked up at him, somber and silent. He had to clench his jaw to keep his gaze from softening on her.
“I’m sorry,” she told him and turned to leave.
He reached out and caught the edge of her sleeve, pulling her back. “Where are you going?”
“I’m trying to respect your wishes and leave—Oh,” her eyes opened wider, “you meant in general.”
“Yes,” he said and turned toward their destination. “I’m hoping you’ll help. In return,” he told her when she caught up, “I’ll tell you what you want to know as long as it doesn’t compromise me.”
“I want to know a lot,” she assured him as they entered the coffee house.
He walked behind her in the line and looked down at the pompom on her hat. “Maybe I can get to know a little about you in the process.”
She smiled over her shoulder and lifted her gaze to him. “Sure, what would you like to know?”
His gaze dipped to the beguiling slant of her plump lips and then rose to meet her deep, cobalt eyes. Who was Helena White? What was it about her that made him put aside everything and ask her to dinner? Or compelled him to accept her offer for company when she suggested it? He hadn’t been able to get her out of his thoughts since she left him at Tony’s. He told himself it was good to ponder her. He’d never known anyone in The Bane. He knew as little about them as they knew of him. He’d never hoped for any kind of treaty of peace. He still didn’t, but the possibility was worth looking in to.
But peace hadn’t haunted all morning. The challenging quirk of her brow had. The strength of will in the tilt of her ivory chin and the spark of danger in her eyes had. Her smiles, though as thoroughly enticing as his pancakes, had been mostly cool and laced with indifference at first. She was hiding things and she tempted him to listen in and find out what they were. But he was more than Drakkon and she was more than a hunter. She was fair and modest, despite her stark beauty. He liked her boldness and that she ordered more food than she could eat.
“Are you married?” he asked.
“No,” she told him, the curl of her lips dragging his gaze back to them. “No boyfriend, either.”
He didn’t know why that information pleased him. He shook his head, smiling into her eyes. “Impossible. Have you seen you?”
She laughed at hearing her words used on her. “Jacob says I intimidate men but I can’t find the time to care.”
“You don’t intimidate me.”
Her laughter faded as she settled her gaze on his. “You’re not—all man.”
“Hmm.” Garion cocked his head and smiled though her sting went deeper than he would have expected. She didn’t let herself forget what he was, a beast she’d been taught to fear and trained to kill. He wouldn’t deny that the blood of Drakkon flowed through his veins. He couldn’t. Even if he never turned and flew again, Drakkon fire burned deep. “Perhaps, all male, is a term better used to describe me.”
The line moved up but she remained in her place, staring up at him with eyes that beckoned him to take to the sky.
“Yes,” she breathed like a soft sigh across his chin, “perhaps.”
Despite her insult and the look of extreme distaste on her face while she delivered it, he suffered the insane urge to run his knuckles over her alabaster jaw, to smile like a fool at the way she was looking at him now.
To breathe fire and show you how much male I am.
A crimson streak brushed across her milky complexion as if her snow was no match for his fire. She drew in a short, shallow breath while she stared into his eyes, feeding the flames. Had she heard him? Had he sent the thought to her without realizing it? He couldn’t ask her without revealing that it was possible.
“Can I take your order?”
The flames receded as he severed his gaze from Helena’s and turned to the barista. “Two coffees.”
“Make one a Grande Latte Macchiato, please,” Helena said, stepping forward, still looking a bit flushed but recovering quickly.
Garion didn’t frequent coffee houses. He’d been to Starbucks only twice before while visiting his sister. He didn’t know much about Latte Macchiatos. It sounded pleasing. “Make that two,” he corrected and smiled at the barista.
“Anything you want,” she smiled back, her prettily-painted lids dipping over her eyes. “What’s your name?”
He straightened his shoulders and slanted his gaze at Helena. She didn’t appear affected by the barista’s obvious flirtations, though he found it rude. “Should we just stand over there?” he asked, turning back to the barista.
“Yes,” she nodded and held a marker up to a cup. “If you give me your name they can call you when your order’s ready.”
“Oh,” he breathed, feeling foolish but managing another smile. “It’s Garion.”
The barista was quick to grin and forgive him. She held up his cup after she wrote his name on it. “Did I spell it right?”
“Come on,” Helena said impatiently, passing him and taking him by the hand as she went.
Garion took an instant to realize that it was her small, warm hand in his. Why would she do this? Did she mean to entrance him with such an intimate embrace? He was tempted to run the pad of his thumb over her fingers, but she would pull away. He didn’t want her to. He liked how holding her hand felt.
He let her lead him to another small crowd waiting for their drinks and released her when she took back her hand and turned to look at him. “She isn’t Bane.”
He stared at her for a moment not understanding, then looked over his shoulder at the barista. “I didn’t think so.”
“Oh,” she said, a hint of her smile returning. “Do you avoid giving your name to everyone?”
“No, I thought she was…ehm.” He hated admitting it because he knew it made him sound like a conceited asshole. “I thought she was flirting with me.”
Helena’s widening smile revealed that she heard the same thing. “It happens often, I’m sure.”
“No,” he told her, “it doesn’t. I don’t spend much time around people. Remember?”
“So you don’t date?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He gave her a quizzical look. When he’d agreed to tell her what she wanted to know in return for helping him live free of The Bane, he assumed that she wanted to know more about his power and his heritage. But everything she had asked him since breakfast was of a much more personal nature.
“Garion!” someone called out. A young man behind the counter held up two large cups and called out his name again.
“So, why don’t you?” she persisted when he retrieved their drinks and handed hers to her.
“It’s too risky,” he supplied and kept walking.
“How is dating risky?” she asked, following him.
“It could lead to…” Damn it. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He turned to look at her and tossed her a scowl. “…intimacy.”
The widening of her eyes, the parting of her plump lips tempted him to forgive her for poking around in his heart.
“What’s so bad about intimacy?” she forged on, forcing more out of him.
He glanced around for a place to sit, anything to avoid answering. The coffee house was crowded. Too crowded for his comfort. He needed to stretch his arms. He needed to get back to Carina. “We should be getting back.”
“Oh, I get it,” she called out when he headed for the door. “This topic isn’t open for discussion,” she said, catching up. “It adds
to the mystique.”
He slanted his glance and his slightest smile at her as they stepped outside. “What mystique is that?”
“Drakkon king, rich recluse, man of mystery,” she provided, sipping her drink. “Take your pick.”
“Drakkon king?” he laughed, popping open the lid on his cup. “That’s one I haven’t heard before. But it’s incorrect. A king with no subjects is just a man.”
“But if he had a chance to be king, why wouldn’t he take it?” she asked, doubling her steps to keep up with his long strides.
He took a sip of his latte. It wasn’t half-bad, but he still preferred hot chocolate. “Because the cost would be too high.”
“For who?”
“Mankind.”
“Yes,” she agreed softly. She was quiet after that and Garion hoped she understood now that he had no intention of filling the sky with Drakkons—unless he was forced to do so by The Bane’s next move.
“Garion?”
Hell, but he liked the sound of her voice and the way his name sounded on her lips. It was distracting and that was what he had to guard against.
“Yes, Helena?” Somehow, he had to find a way to remain focused while she walked by his side, brushing her arm against his, while she looked up at him with curious eyes sparked with amusement or anger. He liked her company and that was dangerous. He wanted The Bane to stay away from his family and leave him alone. Helena was part of The Bane. His time with her served a purpose. Nothing more. Best to remember that else he risked falling for her. Where would that leave him besides lonelier than he already was?
“Are you telling me that you would be content to fly alone for as long as you live?”
He nodded and broke their gaze to look straight ahead. “I don’t fly.” He realized that he must be going mad to be speaking of such things with a hunter.
“What do you mean?” she asked, hurrying a few inches forward, forcing him to look at her. “You don’t turn?”
“Not for the last fourteen years.”
She stopped, her eyes wide, her latte pressed to her chest. “Fourteen?”
Being Bane, she probably knew about his attack on the Whites the night they’d killed Thomas. She had every reason to hate him. What was she doing with him here with his cat? He didn’t want to be talking to her about this—the darkest day of his life and the day he became fully aware that Drakkons and man could never co-exist.
“Why fourteen?” she asked.
He scowled, thinking how much he’d already shared with her. He found her easy to talk to, but he had to be careful about what spilled out of his mouth. He understood why she tried to pry into his past and his personal life. She couldn’t trust what the Drakkon was capable of doing without knowing the man first. It was reasonable and, if it would convince her to help him, he would tell her what she wanted to know.
But he didn’t want to.
“I killed some people. A lot of people. I’m sure you know about it. They were members of your family.”
“Yes.” She lowered her gaze, shielding it behind her lashes. “I know about it.”
Why was she here, offering him the promise of peace instead of trying to cut his throat? She came from the brood of peacekeepers, true. But also from the line of the first man who’d wanted him dead. He looked away. He didn’t owe her an explanation but he wanted her to know that being a killer was not in his nature.
“I lost my mind that night. I lost control and almost everything else important to me.” He turned back to her. “I’m sorry it was your family who killed him.”
She nodded, either agreeing with him or accepting his apology, and then met his gaze. “Thomas White?”
“Yes,” he told her, resuming his steps, “and my friends, Will and Aidan. They were children.”
“I remember hearing about them,” she said after a few moments of walking in silence with him.
“Losing Thomas broke me in half,” he continued, not really sure why he did.
“He was your friend.”
“He was more than that,” he told her. “It was his face that I saw when I first opened my eyes to life. He helped me learn how to walk, talk, and use the toilet. When it came time to learn to fly, he left me in the care of a man better suited at the time for the job. He remained in our lives and he died because I shared my blood with him. They all did. I was consumed by grief and guilt. I wasn’t thinking about there being women and children inside that house. Anyway,” he said as they reached the emergency room and entered it. “That’s why I haven’t turned or turned anyone else.”
“What did you hear about there being children in the house?” she asked him on a quavering voice.
“I heard there were two. I don’t know their names. Do you?”
She shook her head. “No. No, I don’t. I’ve never heard any talk of children being lost.”
“Really?” He stopped and turned to her. Was it possible that what he’d heard was untrue? He hadn’t burned any children? The thought of it made him feel weightless for the first time in over a decade. Let it be true. He stared into her eyes, so tempted to search her thoughts. Just a nudge. Just to know if she was being truthful. “It would mean a lot to me if I knew that was true.”
“Mr. Gold?” Someone touched his arm. He pulled back, severing his slight connection with Helena before she answered. “Your cat is being discharged.”
He turned to a woman he hadn’t seen before. She smiled and held out her hand.
“I’m Doctor Richards. All of Carina’s tests came back negative. The vomiting has stopped and, after a little rehydration, she’s up and active. And quite vocal. I think she wants you.” She smiled again. This time, Garion smiled back. “Follow me and you can get her ready to go home.”
He thanked her for everything she’d done and laid his hand on Helena’s back to lead her forward. She paused. “I can wait here.”
He shook his head and urged her on. “You kept me sane today. As a way to thank you, I’m letting you meet my cat. That’s big, in case you didn’t know.”
The dulcet tones of her soft feminine laughter filled his ears and softened his smile. “No, I didn’t.”
He leaned down to speak quietly in her ear. “You already know more about me than I intended. Later, I’m going to have to ponder how you managed it.”
She tilted her chin in his direction and replied in the same hushed tone. “I know hardly anything.”
They both heard the plaintive meows coming from a room just ahead. Garion turned toward the sound and breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m coming, Your Highness,” he called out, before turning his amused gaze to Helena. “What does it say about me that I let a little cat boss me around?”
He didn’t wait for her answer but stepped past Dr. Richards and entered the room.
The instant she saw him, Carina’s meows grew louder, more urgent. When he reached the exam table, she broke free of the assistant’s hands and sprang toward him. She pressed her front paws to his belly and stretching up, begged him with more mournful cries to pick her up and get her out of here.
Hell, he loved this little bit of fluff.
Granting her wish, he lifted her to his chest, where she immediately quieted down. “You gave me a scare, little lady.”
His eyes found Helena standing by the door. He beckoned her to come and, for a moment, he didn’t think she would. She appeared affected by the sight of Carina, which he understood. But then she stepped forward and reached her hand out.
“Hello, Carina. I’m so glad you’re well.”
Her voice was mesmerizingly soft and gentle reaching Garion’s ears. Her fingers brushed against his chest when she stroked Carina’s coat, setting fire to his insides.
Carina purred. She liked Helena.
The problem was, so did he.
Chapter Six
But he was the Gold. The Gold. And true to his nature, he set fire to her blood and bones, her nerves, her flesh. He heated her thoughts with the subtlest nuances of movemen
t; near her, against her. Helena couldn’t just drop all her walls because of the way he looked holding his cat. Or because he sounded like a man who’d just been given a small piece of his life back when he thought he hadn’t killed children. But did he deserve such relief? He claimed he didn’t want to hurt anyone. But he already had. He’d killed forty-two members of her family, including her half-brother Hendrick—most likely her father.
But she understood now who Thomas White had been to him; his first foster father and a man Garion had loved. Garion had acted out of rage and grief—and guilt. She’d seen it in his eyes when he’d spoken. He regretted altering Thomas and his friends. If what he told her about not turning since that night was true, then he regretted his killing spree, as well. She believed him, about this at least—and worse, so much worse, was that she sympathized with him for the first time in her life.
“I just need you to sign some papers and then you can go,” the doctor said, drawing him away from Helena’s hand.
She watched him bend to sign the release form while Carina crawled up his thick arm and settled down on his shoulder. Even the doctor couldn’t take her eyes off him. How could he not know any women? Was it possible that he didn’t date? Why did he think intimacy was risky? Was he afraid to love? Had he loved and been hurt already? He hadn’t wanted to discuss it. Why not? Why the hell did it make him even more attractive and mysterious?
She’d told him he wasn’t all man. The instant the words had left her mouth, she knew she didn’t believe them. Saying Garion wasn’t all man was like saying the sky wasn’t vast. An obvious untruth that had tasted bitter on her tongue. But a man was more than just the fine sculpt of his body, the radiance of his countenance. What made him complete was what he held close to his heart.
She looked at his cat, safe and satisfied, back in his care.
He told her he didn’t fly. Is that why he was never spotted? Because he didn’t transform? And if he didn’t transform, The Bane would not be able to kill him.
Did she want them to? She hadn’t even alerted the Elders that she’d found him yet. He wanted her help. He wanted to be left alone.
