“Sheridan. Is he Irish?”
“She is. Yes.”
“She?” Finngarick thought back to his interview and remembered he’d promised to work for or with females.
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“No. No’ at all.”
“You’re quartered in the north wing. Second floor at the end of the hall on the left. We’ve numbered the doors. That’s 211.”
“Alright,” he said. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” She winked and pointed toward a staircase at the end of the cavernous room. “Would you like someone to show you?”
“No. I’m good on my own.”
He was feeling lightheaded and a little short of breath as he climbed the stairs. By the time he’d reached the end of the hall and located 211, he was afraid he might be having a heart attack.
And in a sense, he was.
He knocked on the open door and stepped inside. When Sheridan turned around, he lost what little breath he still had in his lungs and almost blacked out. While her reaction was not quite as dramatic, her eyes opened wide as her mouth sucked in air and formed an, “Oh.”
It was plain to see that she felt it, too.
Torn literally sat down on the floor at the threshold of the room because his legs simply wouldn’t hold his weight up. When the initial shock of feeling close proximity with his mate began to subside, he laughed out loud.
After a few minutes of experiencing pure joy for the first time in his life, his laughter turned into a salacious grin. “So, we’re makin’ redheaded babies then.”
That was the first thing he said to his new partner. The instant the words left his mouth he was hit with the second traumatic revelation of the day. Parenting could be in his future. At some point. And what did he know about being some poor elfling’s da? Gods knew that few had seen worse role modeling.
But he didn’t have long to worry about the prospect of fatherhood because the first thing she said in return was, “I’m no’ makin’ babies of any sort, redheaded or otherwise. And if you plan to be my partner, you’d best direct your thoughts elsewhere.”
Finngarick’s confusion was profound. He shook his whole head, sobered instantly, and sat up straight, a frown forming at his brow. “What do you mean? We’re mates.”
“Maybe so, but I have other plans.”
“Other plans?” They stared at each other for several beats before he said, “Are you mad?”
He was also thinking that it would be just his luck to find his mate, a development he’d given up on, only to have her be loose in the brains.
“No. I’m no’. I’m takin’ this bed. You can have the one over there.” She pointed to the bed across the room under the window.
Torn looked in the direction of the other bed, trying to process the developments. Within a couple of minutes he’d found his mate and learned she wanted nothing to do with him.
“Great Paddy.” He threw his duffel halfway across the room so that it landed on the bed.
His initial reaction of anger was no surprise. For his whole life that had been his default response to anything that seemed the slightest contrary to his preference. But as he walked toward the available bed, his back to Sheridan O’Malley, his mouth began to lift into a small smile.
He asked himself two questions.
Had he ever shrunk from a challenge? The answer was no.
And was she worth the challenge? The answer was definitely yes.
Not only was his mate everything he could imagine an ideal female to be, but she was his Paddy-loving partner. As he began to plot he realized that the future was fertile with potential. He wasn’t sure he could bring himself to even think it at first, but as he unpacked his things, the word ‘happiness’ took root and refused to be pushed aside.
Sheridan O’Malley might not be ready to admit it, but someday she was going to be happily mated. To him. She just needed time to get used to the idea. And him.
Out of the corner of his eye Torn saw her start to leave the room. “Will you no’ wait for me? We may as well begin learnin’ about each other if we’re to be partners.”
She hesitated at the door, back to him, fingers of both hands poised lightly on the door jamb. She appeared to be grappilng with the invitation, but at length said, “Sure. I’ll go down with ye.”
He nodded, but waited until he’d turned back to unpacking to allow his smile to form. “Do you want to be called Sheridan?”
“Well, aye. What else would I be called?”
He shrugged. “Most of the hunters I know go by somethin’ shorter because three syllables is a lot to utter when a life or death warnin’ is imminent.”
Her brows came down as she thought about that. “My name is my name.”
“I like Sher.”
“Sher?” She wouldn’t think of giving him the satisfaction of saying so, but she kind of liked it, too. Especially the way he said it. “’Tis really necessary?”
He shook his head. “No. No’ if you hate it.”
She liked that he was giving her a choice. “I do no’ hate it. Exactly.”
“How about a trial?”
She crossed her arms. “I do no’ recall you sharin’ your name.”
“Sir Torrent Finngarick.”
She thought he included the title to lord it over her, but truthfully he was hoping to impress. She sneered. “You want me to call you Sir?”
“O’ course no’. I want you to call me Torn.”
She blinked rapidly, liking the sound of that. Especially the way he said it.
“And I suppose the Sir means you used to be what? A vampire slayer?”
“Aye. Up until this mornin’.”
“Hmmm. I’m sure you’ve had an interestin’ life.”
He laughed out loud. “That’s one way to describe it, I suppose. And where are you from?”
“A village in the New Forest. Black on Tarry.”
Being Irish, Torn knew about Black on Tarry. Everybody in the country had become familiar with it because there was a time when the prince would go missing due to running away.
“I know of it. What was it like?”
She stopped to give that thought. Only a month before she’d had nothing to compare it to. Now she’d seen more of the world. “Magical.”
He nodded. “I’d like to hear more about it. And how you came to work for Black Swan. And why you agreed to be a demon chaser.” Torn moved toward the door.
“You seem a nosy sort, Sir Finngarick.”
He laughed. “Call me Torn. We’re partners. That means eventually I’ll know everythin’ there is to know about you. I’m just gettin’ started. You know how to use that?” He nodded toward the bow leaning against the foot of her bed.
“Aye.” It was one word, but Torn could tell by the way she said it that the question had triggered a pride response. She walked out the door ahead of him and gracefully led the way down the hall, giving him a delicious view of her swaying hips and long swinging hair, which he already knew would be the color of fire in bright sunlight.
Finngarick had yet to see her smile and filed that away as something on his must see list.
After they descended the gray stone steps that led down to the main rooms, they saw that Grieve and his flirty assistant were directing everyone to their assigned places. As Finngarick was surveying the room and scanning the people, he saw that Sheridan was already seated.
Wondering how she’d moved from his side to a place at the table at the other end of the great room, his head whipped around in disbelief. But she wasn’t seated at the table, she was still by his side.
Sheridan laughed. In spite of his discombobulation, Finngarick thought it was the most marvelous thing he’d ever seen.
“She’s my sister.”
It took a second for that to register. “You’re… twins.” She nodded. “Identical twins.”
“Same egg. Same sperm. We’re no’ identical. We just look the same.”
“Right.” H
e cocked his head and soaked that in. He’d just learned that she wanted to be seen as an individual. He filed that away in his newly begun cataloguing of all things Sheridan O’Malley.
Rosie sat at one end of the long table. She designated the chair at the other end as Sir Hawking’s in honor of his place in the Hall of Heroes. Eight of the hunters sat at Rosie’s end, four to her left, four to her right. Eight sat at the other end, but Elora and Mad Dog sat to Ram’s right and left with the other eight hunters on the other side of them.
Grieve directed them to Ram’s end. When Torn looked and saw that the seats left were either beside Elora on one side or Mad Dog on the other, his step faltered. Even though the motion was practically imperceptible, Sheridan picked up on it.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He looked down at her and shook his head slightly. “Nothin’. Just the uneven stones.”
The floor was stone-covered. And it was very old and uneven. Still, Sheridan didn’t think it would trip up an elf as obviously athletic as Finngarick.
When they approached the table, Torn told Sheridan, “You can sit here,” pointing at the chair next to Elora. “I’ll go ‘round.”
Hearing his voice, Elora looked over her shoulder. Sheridan saw that something passed over the face of the stunning woman with the strange hair when she saw Finngarick.
He straightened his shoulders and said, “Lady Laiken. This is my partner, Sheridan O’Malley.”
When Elora’s gaze moved to Sheridan, her face broke into a big welcoming grin. “Hey. Sit here.” She pushed out the chair. “My niece told me about you. I’ve been to Black on Tarry many, many times, but we’ve never met.”
As Sheridan was sitting, she said, “We were no’ often in the town.”
Elora nodded. “That’s what I heard.”
“You said you heard about us from your niece?”
Elora wiggled her head. It was a mannerism she’d unconsciously picked up from Litha after years of seeing it. “Niece by friendship. Her dad was one of my teammates before I became semi-retired and her mom is my best friend.”
“Oh. So who is your niece?”
Elora laughed. “The cute kid down at the other end of the table. Elora Rose Storm, also known as Rosie.”
Sheridan’s head turned to the right as if to verify that Rosie was, in fact, still sitting at the other end of the long table. “Oh.”
“You have to forgive me for bragging about the fact that she’s named after me. ‘Cause I’m pretty proud of her.” Elora leaned in. “Don’t be intimidated by the star power in this room. You have star power of your own.”
That got Sheridan’s attention. “I do?”
“Well, yeah,” Elora said. “You have the distinction of being the first women to ever be recruited as Black Swan hunters in the history of The Order.”
“But you…”
“Served, but only after I elbowed my way in. Believe me, it’s not like I was invited in.” She smiled brightly. “Like you were. You’ve struck a fine blow for women everywhere.”
“I had no’ thought about that.”
“Maybe not. But I have. This is a very big deal for me.”
“For you?” Sheridan looked surprised.
“Absolutely. I have twin daughters.” Elora pointed to two girls playing with large dogs that looked suspiciously like the Dolmen wolves of the New Forest.
“Those dogs…” Sheridan began.
“Yeah. They probably look familiar to you. They’re half New Forest wolf.”
“Wow.”
Elora laughed. “Well, you’re officially baptized into this world. Wow is just the best word, isn’t it?”
Sheridan nodded. “Aye. Very useful.”
“The kid across the table who’s staring at you like you’re the first girl he’s ever seen is my son, the king of Ireland.” Sheridan looked across the table, unsure of what to say. “Don’t even think about calling him something like ‘Your Highness’. Just say hi.”
“Hi,” she said.
Helm, who was thirteen at the moment, grinned. Like most people, Sheridan couldn’t help but be struck by his looks. He had his mother’s turquoise eyes, his father’s blonde hair and prominent ears indicating he was all male. His sisters had plaited his hair close to his scalp, leaving the length free from his nape to his shoulder blades.
“’Lo gorgeous,” Helm said.
Elora rolled her eyes while Sheridan looked like a deer in headlights. “Knock it off, Helm.”
His eyes slid lazily to his mother then right back to Sheridan. He stared at her all the way through dinner as he carried on a conversation with Mad Dog on his right and Finngarick on his left.
By the time dinner was over, Torn had decided he liked the kid. Down to earth. Smart, but funny. Not at all what he would have expected the boy king to be. It was odd that the future king of Ireland had an American accent, but that was where he’d spent most of his time.
Just before Rosie stood to begin Orientation, Helm said to Finngarick. “I do know who you are. You’re the idiot who ignored my mother and got trapped in the basement with his idiot friends and real vampire.”
Finngarick took in a big breath, trying to decide how to respond. “’Twas a mistake. A very big one. ‘Twas also the only time in my life I ever apologized. I made an apology both public and private. No’ much more to be done.” He looked at Helm and locked eyes. Within a couple of seconds, Finngarick found himself impressed. Most thirteen-year-olds would look away from the challenge of his stare.
But not Helm.
“Just so you know,” Helm continued pleasantly. “Nobody gets to ignore my mother but me.”
“Noted,” Finngarick said, matching Helm’s pleasant tone. “Just so you know, no’ even my future king gets to call a Black Swan knight an idiot while sitting at a Black Swan table.”
The two stared at each other for a few beats and then both broke into laughter. It seemed they understood each other.
Watching the exchange from across the table, Elora couldn’t help but wonder if the two were getting along because Finngarick was the same age as Helm emotionally. She decided to forego an eye roll because Rosie was requesting everyone’s attention.
“While they’re serving coffee and dessert which, by the way, is fruit and cheese,” She expected the grumbling that followed. “this is training camp. I want to see what my hunters can do when they’re not being slowed down by sugar and fat.
“You already know who I am. So I’m going to start by introducing our special guests.”
One by one, without notes, she pointed out people and recited bio highlights. She began with the instructors and made Ram blush, which wasn’t usually easy to do. Next was Monq. “He’ll only be staying for twenty-four hours. Just long enough to make sure we all understand the tools he’s designed to make this project possible.”
Then Deliverance. “In many ways,” she said, “my grandfather has made this undertaking possible. We wouldn’t have any idea what would work and what wouldn’t if not for his help. I’d also like to personally thank him for wearing a shirt and shoes tonight.”
Everybody laughed.
Finngarick watched as the demon’s gaze drifted up and down the table before landing on Sheridan. Torn almost broke his fork in half when he read the lust behind the demon’s gratuitous smile.
He realized he must be feeling the emotion people called jealousy. He didn’t like it. It made him antsy and angry and damn uncomfortable. But he also liked it better than what he’d been feeling for the past decade, which was nothing.
Torn looked across the table at Sheridan who was giving him a questioning look. And he wondered if the famed mate connection was starting to kick in. Would he start to feel her emotions? Practically read her thoughts?
He gave her a reassuring smile and shook his head slightly in a gesture meaning, “Everything’s fine.”
Next Rosie introduced Grieve. “I believe you’ve already met my assistant, who’s actually the u
ndercover boss.” Grieve flushed at the attention and the compliment. “If you want to know something, you’re most likely to get an answer if you start with him.”
She quickly mentioned Grieve’s assistant and then focused on the hunters one by one.
“Only two of the hunters are new to Black Swan. The O’Malley twins. They were recruited specifically for D.I.T. and I want to acknowledge Sir Hawking for bringing them to my attention. They have some special skills that are going to be particularly useful, as you’ll all learn in the coming days. If you’re having trouble telling them apart, well… that’s your problem.” Everybody laughed. “But there’s a really good chance that if you see one of them with Deck Tikkanen, it’s Shivaun. If you see one with Torn Finngarick, it’s Sheridan.
“So here’s what’s going to happen. Tonight after dinner, I hope you’ll take advantage of the media and gathering rooms. Relax, settle in, start getting to know each other then get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow morning we’re having breakfast at six. Then Monq is going to tell us about the technology he and his team have developed for D.I.T. and show us how to use it.
“The rest of the morning will be spent in traditional training exercises. Loose workout wear is your uniform this week. If you need stuff, tell Grieve. He can have it here same day whister delivery. This is northern Scotia. You know what that means. If you stay outside for longer than twenty minutes, you’re probably gonna get damp. So dress accordingly.
“Lunch. Two hours of partner time to be used for getting to know your other half. That may seem frivolous, but I’m told by the ex-vampire slayers that it’s worth the time and trouble. Four o’clock. Training on D.I.T. equipment. Dinner at seven.
“Every night after dinner we’ll have a guest from Black Swan to talk about some of the extra-humans you may encounter. What we know about them. What we don’t know. That sort of thing. We don’t have the complete list yet, but Heaven McBride Baka will be here one night to talk about encountering demons in particular. The Director’s wife, Sorcha Tvelgar, will give an overview of the history of problems we suspect have been caused by uninvited visitors. Someone from communications will give some useful tips on diplomacy.
Finngarick (Order of the Black Swan, D.I.T. Book 2) Page 15
