by Viola Grace
"Did they destroy everything?"
His voice echoed her thoughts and seemed shocked at the rampant violence that had been done to her home. “Pretty much. Nothing worth salvaging.” She crouched on the floor. Unbidden, her hands were lifting and dropping the shards of her life. Movement behind her ended as his hands reached around to gently capture hers in a soft embrace.
"Come along, Westa. There is nothing left for you here.” He lifted her and turned her to face him. “They may return. It isn't safe for you here."
"According to you, it isn't safe for me anywhere.” Being petty was all that she could manage. Nodding, she shifted her weight and started to the door. It was a good thing that she only lived in the moment. If she had had mementos of her life, she would really be pissed right now. Footsteps behind her followed her quietly back to his car. The door opened almost by magic as she touched the handle.
In silence, he joined her in the vehicle and started the engine with a delicate touch.
She finally shattered the silent reverie. “I need a twenty-four hour mega mart. I refuse to go through the rest of the evening looking like a discount hooker.” His lips twitched and he kept his commentary to himself.
With a nod he made a beeline for the nearest shop to fit her specifications.
* * * *
"You know, shopping isn't a sport. You could go easy on this."
He may as well have been trying to communicate with the wind. She had no interest in his opinion. With a cart full of clothing, shoes, toiletries and mysterious items from the craft department, she ploughed her way toward the checkout. “I need everything from the skin out. And a shower for that matter. Plus, you still owe me a cup of coffee."
The dark shadow that followed her through the store in the early hours after midnight made the other shoppers give her a wide berth. She was out of the line and had armloads of bags in a matter of minutes. “Ok. Now a shower. Then the coffee. There is a nice little hotel a dozen blocks from here. Shall we?” He looked bemused, as if he was surprised to find her a bit of a bulldozer.
"As my lady commands.” He took her parcels from her and led the way back to his car.
He was remarkably nonchalant about carrying her shopping parcels. She tried not to smile as he placed the bags in the car and once again moved to open her door. This guy could look graceful raking leaves. Oh, there is a thought, or better yet, raking leaves naked. She had to shake her head twice to get the silly grin off her face as he sat behind the wheel and closed the driver's door.
"What is the name of the hotel?"
"Oh, it's one of those chain things. Big signage. I can't remember which one though."
"Well then, may I simply take you to my hotel? I already have a room and I could take the couch."
That raised her suspicions. “Are you sure that you will stick to the sofa? All night?"
"I swear, upon my honour, that I will sleep on the couch, while you take the bed.” His hand covered his heart and he took her lack of disagreement as agreement. The engine purred to life and off they went.
The hotel he was staying at was much nicer than the one that she had picked out, and probably cost quite a bit more than she would normally spend. Ah well, it was on his dime. There was also the added bonus that with the security guards and the valets, there would be people around her if she needed help. His rooms were on the seventh floor and the enormous suite beckoned her in like a lodestone.
"Which way is the bathroom?” She followed his pointing finger and scrambled off with three of her shopping bags in tow. All the supplies she needed to feel human again. The shower was decadent, three different jets hitting her in all the right places. The towels were pure sin, wrapping her in warm fluff as she reluctantly left the shower that she had had serious thoughts about marrying.
The towels both dried and warmed her as she contemplated the array of clothing that she had picked up at the mega mart. Bra and panties were a no-brainer, but the color of t-shirt that she chose was important. She chose her most flattering blue and slid into a pair of jeans. The feel of the socks almost made her pass out with joy. There was nothing in life that was as refreshing as a new pair of socks. “And being cleaned and freshly scrubbed."
Shuffling with her worn clothing in one of the plastic bags, she re-entered the main room and took a long look around. The furnishings were luxurious, far more than she deemed necessary, but Henry seemed to be enjoying them.
He was sprawled out on one of the couches and flipped through channels.
In the soft light of the lamps, his features were even more roughly hewn than under the light of streetlamps. The smile that greeted her when as she appeared clean and freshly scrubbed was soft and welcoming.
"You seem much improved. The shower seemed to have done you good."
She wriggled her toes. “It is the socks that rejuvenated me. I do so love a new pair of socks.” His startled laughter warmed her. She wandered over to the mound of bags and dug until she found the sneakers she had bought. Triumphantly, she put them on and turned to him, only to find his gaze fixed on her backside. Blushing slightly, she took the topic off her anatomy. “You owe me coffee. Let's go."
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Chapter Four
"All right, Henry, what the hell are you and why have you been following me?” The coffee had arrived and the pie was hot while the ice cream was melting into a sticky sweet puddle on the deep-dish saucer in front of her.
He sipped at his tea. “What ever do you mean?"
He didn't deny that he had been following her and she smiled that her guess was correct. Scooping the pie up in several bites, she talked around her full mouth. It was only years of practice that made her words distinct. “I have felt a presence following me recently. Two, actually. One was you, the other, I do believe was the golden goober from the poker game."
"Golden goober? Is there another man bidding for your affections?"
The veiled hostility for the phantom male was not something she missed, although he tried to mask it with a false smile. “The only interest in his genitals that I have is watching my knee smash them. That idiot almost got me killed."
"Well, luckily for you I was nearby."
"Watching me."
"Acting as your guardian, as I was appointed to be.” Shocked by his candour, awareness of it flashed across his face, he busied himself with his teacup.
This was too good to pass up. “An appointed guardian?"
He took a sip of the too-hot brew and flinched back. “Yes. I suppose I should be forthright now as it will be easier if you are informed as to the goings on."
"Appointed by whom?"
"Artemis Whynot of the Silverwood Society."
Her head snapped up so fast she almost knocked herself out. “Mimi? She sent you? She used to be the counsellor at a camp I attended."
"I know. That is why others like me have been dispatched to take several of you into our care. There are those who learned of your experience at Camp Silverwood who are interested in the skills you have acquired.” He shifted in his seat.
She caught a whiff of his scent. Like citrus and wind in the forest. “Wait, you mean the other girls from Camp Silverwood? They are in danger? Then let's get ‘em.” Adrenaline began to pound through her veins. She was ready for a fight.
"First, let's get you safe. It is my assignment and I am not going to let you out of my sight until I can be assured that you are out of danger. All right?"
"Okay, but I want answers, and I am not going to give up until I get them.” Her pie was only a memory, the tender, flakey bits of crust long gone.
"That's fair. When we get back to the hotel I will answer all your questions on whatever subject you wish.” He leaned back and crossed his arms.
"Any question? Even personal ones?” She waggled her eyebrows in challenge.
"Well, I may draw the line if you get too involved.” A smug smile crossed his lips.
She fought the urge to dive across
the table to kiss him. Ah, but how to get him to come clean about his personal history? Aha, she had it. “Henry, do you play cards?” A smirk crept onto her lips, only to be dashed by his answer.
"Not with you, Lucky."
* * * *
The door of the hotel room hadn't even finished closing when she rounded on him. “All right, who are you and why couldn't I see you when I was looking directly at you last week. I know that you were watching me outside the coffee shop. I could feel you."
"You may want to sit for some of this. It is a lot to take in.” He hung his jacket up in the closet and held out his hand.
She reluctantly surrendered the new denim and took her seat on the couch. “That depends solely on the questions that I ask, doesn't it?"
"I suppose it does. But I am prepared to answer anything pertaining to you, and most things pertaining to me.” He took up a seat next to her and inhaled deeply. “Feel free to start anytime."
"All right. What exactly are you doing following me?"
"Making sure you are safe."
"From who?"
"People like your golden goober. Those who wish to interfere with the plan."
"What plan?"
"The plan that has been in the making for over three hundred years. A plan to return magic to the earth."
That threw her. Her mouth opened and closed of its own accord. “Magic?"
"Yes. Magic."
"Please explain that one further."
"You and the women that you attended Silverwood with are the new carriers of magic into the modern world. It has taken three hundred years for a strong enough concentration to be brought together in living beings."
"Three hundred years? So how old are you?” She was rapidly losing control of the questioning but couldn't help herself.
"You won't like it."
"Try me."
"Five hundred and seventy three. My birthday is March seventh if you are interested in getting me a card.” He let her absorb the shock for a moment, then rose and offered her a cold beverage from the mini bar. At her decline, he set the can of cola on the coffee table.
Her voice was a little high to her own ears as she belted out, “Wait. If you are that old, why do you sound so normal and seem so at ease with modern times?” Her brain screamed, hah! I got you! Smug, she waited for his response.
He was back on the other end of the couch and they faced each other across the empty cushion. They were mirror images, each with one knee on the couch and the other foot flat on the floor. “Five years ago we began training to blend in with the modern world. In our duties as guardians it was imperative that we be able to function in any situation that you may get into."
She closed her eyes and covered them with her hands. “You mean like running from drug dealers in the wee hours of the morning with over twenty thousand dollars in my bra?” His chuckle warmed her. It was the first time she had heard him laugh and her body responded to his mirth with an out-of-scale reaction. If Westa didn't want to know more, she would jump him right now. Her hand dropped from her eyes in surprise. Where on earth did that thought come from?
"Precisely like that. As well as not attacking your pursuers, not hunting them down until they all regretted their births.” He shrugged casually. “These are all reflexes that had to be curbed so that we can pass unnoticed in modern times."
Unnoticed? That man could not go unnoticed if he were invisible. “That reminds me. How did you manage to hide from me for at least the last week? I could feel you, but never quite see you."
"Ah. That.” He closed his eyes for a moment.
Right before her very eyes, she saw her companion fade until there was only a faint blur across from her. Seconds later, he was back as though it never happened. She reached out to touch him and, when his gentle fingers slowly met hers, she acknowledged that he was solid. And warm, very warm.
"It is a peculiarity of my race that we can hide from human eyes, and despite your magic, you are still human."
"Your race? What are you, an alien?” He chuckled darkly and she had to fight the hormones that surged to the fore.
"Of course not. I am an elf.” Her hysterical laughter took three minutes to subside, after which, Henry reoffered her the can of soda.
She accepted and slowly calmed. “An elf? Really?"
"An elf. Really."
"Where are your pointy ears, the jingly shoes?” Her mind now had him making sweet little confectionary bites in a tree house. “Where are the cookies?” His scowl could have peeled paint.
"Ahem."
"Okay, so you are an elf, though you don't look like one. What about my other stalker? What is he?"
"He's an elf as well."
"He is so different from you? Are you sure?"
"Yup. Same sport, different team."
He didn't look too happy to be discussing the golden goober, but she understood what he was saying better than he could have imagined. Now she was getting somewhere. “Okay. What is the sport and what teams are you on?"
"The team of the Silverwood Society. We have been waiting for all this time to encourage magic to come back to the human world and to flourish. The Lios want the bearers of the magic to return to them and to power their works until you burn out."
"Lios?"
"The elves of light. They are the flamboyant ones who drew humans to them with glamour and discarded their lovers when they got pregnant, or simply old."
"And your affiliations are?"
"Years ago, I rode with the Wild Hunt. We travelled in the company of the dearly departed and invited humans to travel with us at every opportunity. And then we let them go.” His eyes softened as they looked to the past.
The small smile running over his lips made her want to trace the curve with her tongue. She needed a cold shower. Her mind took her down yet another path. “So my luck is a form of magic? That I will be able to control at will one day?"
"It is indeed. You simply need time and a place to practice to gain control of your particular skills. The Society has set up just such a facility."
Her eyes were still watching his mouth and the manner by which each word was formed and expressed had her blood pounding in her veins. Her tone when shrill again, “So, I am magical?"
"You are indeed."
"And I can learn to control this?"
"With effort on your part."
"Can I try it now?” She was already concentrating, working and wondering at how her talent was triggered. She wanted safety, comfort and some sleep.
A knock on the door startled them both. Henry rose and went to the door, spoke softly with the hotel concierge that Westa could see in the open door. She couldn't hear what they were talking about, but a bit of shock unfurled as Henry returned with two bellboys in tow.
"Well Westa, we have been upgraded. It seems that a businessman, who normally books this suite when he travels, has arrived unexpectedly. He is insisting on this room so we are being upgraded to the Presidential Suite."
"So why does the businessman want this room in particular?"
"He thinks it's lucky.” They both held straight faces for a moment until they burst into laughter.
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Chapter Five
The presidential suite was fantastic, all the space of a pricey apartment, with none of the personal housekeeping. As the bellboys left their clothing in the bedroom and took their leave with a diffident bow, Westa began a slow and deliberate sprint to the bedroom. A mighty, Wooohooo! later and she was airborne and heading for the duvet-covered king sized bed. Wallowing was the term that she had to use as she rolled from side to side, revelling in the feel of the Egyptian cotton against her arms and face.
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
"I am. I have never been in a room this nice before.” She rolled over onto her stomach and looked at Henry where he was lounging in the doorway. His skin was the golden white seen under the harvest moon, his muscles taut and ready for action. A sliver
of midnight hair slipped across his eye and echoed the white trace of the scar. She had never been in a bedroom with a guy who looked this dangerous before, and he still had all his clothes on. Be still my beating heart.
"It's acceptable, I suppose. It has a certain cold charm."
"Feh. I am not going to let you ruin my fun.” She grabbed one of the pillows and hugged it. “Well, I suppose I have to concede that my amount of luck is astronomical. This is far more than a coincidence."
"And it is far more than luck. It is true magic. In one of its most basic forms.” He sat on the edge of the bed.
It didn't give at all beneath his weight. It was truly a marvellous mattress. That one thought was enough to send her mind scampering down a most uncomfortable path.
"What else did you wish to know?” His voice was low and husky, his blue eyes glowed as he leaned toward her.
Honesty being the best policy compelled her to answer. “Nothing at the moment. Aside from how you taste."
His lips met hers softly, the touch an exchange of souls more than an arousing contact. With a smile and an impish grin, she grabbed his shirt to haul him to her. He grunted with surprise and fell on top of her. Off balance and not too concerned over it, he enjoyed the more direct contact as much as she did if is unbridled enthusiasm was any indicator. He had managed to tug her shirt out of her jeans and was working it up when a knock sounded at the door. They froze like two teenagers in a police flashlight beam.
The knock sounded again.
Whoever was requesting access was becoming more insistent. “I suppose you had better answer that, Henry. It's your room."
"The logic is unfortunate, but truthful.” He levered himself off her and watched closely as she tugged her shirt back into order. “Your hair is a little ... unruly. You may want to tame it a bit.” He walked out to the main room and answered the door.
