by Jane Cousins
“So, my injuries? You want to give me the run down?”
“Well, in my professional opinion you are one big scrape. I’ve cleaned you up and applied a clear antibacterial agent from toes to scalp. The biggest worry was the cut on your lower back, whatever caused it was jagged so even with the pressure bandage you lost a lot of blood.”
“Falling rock, there was a cave-in.”
Nell nodded. “I’ve given you a transfusion… don’t worry, the blood came for Nabha. She’s resting in the spare room. Once the sealant has done its job, there will hardly be a scar. Now, as your physician on record, I only have one question I need answered for the medical file, just how did you come to have a human bite shaped bruise on your ass?”
Devon blinked for a moment before the memory came crashing back. “Liam bit me! I cannot believe he did that.”
Nell laughed. “You should see your face, it’s gone kind of purple, which isn’t good so you need to calm down.” Nell bit her lip and then laughed again, shaking her head. “Wait until I tell Drum.”
“You’re not allowed to tell anyone, patient doctor confidentiality, remember?”
Nell bit her lip again. “Um, I’m not sure it’s something you’re going to be able to keep a secret. I had to list it in the police report and once Maureen reads it… well, it would draw less attention to take a full page ad out in the local paper.”
Devon rolled her eyes and smashed her face down into the mattress. “I hate this town.”
“Liar.” Nell smirked. “You love this town. This house is ridiculously perfect for you, you’ve never been more challenged professionally, and you’ve even managed to make some girlfriends. And… this is a big and, you don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not here, you can quite literally let your Makura freak flag fly.”
“Please, I’m a big city girl through and through.”
“Sure you are.” Nell smiled looking dubious. “Because you adore being surrounded by people all the time. Neighbours close by, nosing into your business. Everyone you know wondering why you aren’t ageing. Why your hair sometimes seems to sway along with the music when you’re not concentrating. Why you can never seem to maintain a manicure longer than a day. I bet you just love all those nice, normal people, taking an interest in your business.”
“I acknowledge that my stay in Sydney only has a shelf life, I was thinking maybe New York next, or perhaps Rome.”
“Why not here?”
“Here?” Devon raised herself up on her elbows, giving Nell her best haughtiest – you’ve got to be kidding me - look.
Nell just shrugged and smiled. “Name one reason why you can’t stay here?”
“Because no one chooses to live in the prison they were once held in.”
“So melodramatic. I don’t know why you need me to keep reminding you of this, but you chose to hire Alma. Chose to accept her stipulations. Refusing to see what a great life you’ve managed to make here for yourself, all that ridiculous dating stuff aside, is on you.” Nell rose to her feet gracefully. “I’m going to check on Nabha and then fix you some breakfast.”
Devon smashed her face once more down onto the mattress and let out a brief frustrated scream. As if she’d ever contemplate living here, she’d totally miss the… hmm, what exactly would she miss in Sydney?
There were great bars and restaurants here. Yes, the locals were annoying, but substantially less annoying than mundane humans. The work, as Nell had stated, was both challenging and kind of fun, stubborn patients and whiney fellow doctors aside.
She would have said she’d miss the big city shopping but since arriving her wardrobe had grown substantially and the quality was beyond question. She did like big cities though, the vibe… hmm, but when she came to really think about it, within an hour or so the noise, the smell and the sheer number of stupid people invariably overwhelmed her and she had to find a quiet room to shut them all out less she start shredding imbeciles with her nails.
The Southern Sanctuary locals were lucky, if they wanted lunch in Paris or to shop at the markets in Marrakesh then they just utilised one of the grid trans locaters for a quick jaunt. Probably if she asked, the High Council would grant her access to the system… if she stayed.
“You look pale all of a sudden, you okay?” Nell was back, a plate piled high with honey covered crumpets in her hand.
“Fine.” Devon forced away all the strange fantastical thoughts that had just run through her head about settling down here at the Southern Sanctuary. Madness, she was still obviously healing and not in her right mind. “Thanks.” She muttered absently as Nell set the crumpets down on the mattress next to her and resumed her seat on the armchair.
“So do you know which brother it might be?” Nell enquired, curious.
“That I’m going to marry?” She knew who she’d like it to be… but he’d only end up hating her. What was that silly saying? If you loved something, someone, set them on fire… no, that couldn’t be right… oh, set them free.
Nell shook her head. “No, which one might be trying to kill you? Chief Hughes asked me to enquire who the puppet master might be when you woke up. He’s already guessed that it’s one of the Merrow Royals so he’s conducting a deep background check on all of them, but if you had any more insight I was to let him know.”
Devon chomped down on a crumpet, surprised at how ravenous she suddenly felt. Perhaps not surprising considering all the physical exertion and stress of healing she’d undergone in the last twenty-four hours. “It could be any of them… well, maybe not all of them. I doubt it’s any of the idiots the Chief already has in custody, not smart enough by half. It’s probably not Fredrik, he has three sons to worry about. That still leaves a rather large pool of suspects, not to mention the four I’m having lunch with today that I’ve yet to meet.”
“You’re going on a date? Today? After everything that’s happened?” Nell’s blue eyes were wide with surprise.
“If I cancel and it turns out that one of the four I have a date with today is the puppet master, then this whole meet and greet, choose a husband and honour the marriage contract gets put on the backburner… unless I set up a conjugal visit with them in prison and call it a date. Then at least I can say I’ve met all the meet and greet criteria.” Devon picked up the second crumpet on her plate and took a big bite.
“Seriously? You’re still worried about honouring that stupid contract? One of your would-be-suitors is out to kill you.”
“You think I’m the first Makura to go up against an unwilling suitor? Barring an act of war, there’s not a lot that nullifies a betrothal contract. And if I don’t get this wrapped up soon the thing will be hanging over my head for years, decades even. And I’m sick of it controlling me, I just want the decision made and the ring on my finger.”
“Have you made your decision then? Is it Liam?”
Devon wriggled restlessly, a lock of her hair coming up to caress her shoulder in commiseration. “I’ve made an appointment with your Aunt to talk things over tomorrow before I make my final choice.”
“I can’t believe you’re going to let Great-Aunt Alma have a say in who you choose. What about you and Liam? I’ve seen you together, he’s good for you and you’re good for him.”
“It’s not about being good, it’s about being suitable. That’s all I wanted when I embarked upon this project, to pinpoint the most suitable candidate to complement my lifestyle… and I’m pretty sure that won’t be Liam.”
“You’re being stubborn and irrational.”
Devon’s eyebrow shot up, hard to be haughty when you’re lying buck naked on your stomach. No one had ever accused her of being irrational before, she wasn’t her fiery mother or her vindictive Grandmother, she plotted and planned her moves with cool - long term vengeance in mind - logic.
Devon fought the urge to open her mouth and explain her reasoning, if she chose Liam he’d only end up hating her. She didn’t think she could stand his hatred.
Nell g
ot to her feet. “I think you’re wrong. I think you love Liam, and I think he loves you. If you marry one of his brothers just to honour some stupid contract that was drawn up when you were a baby you’re going to destroy any chance you have of happiness.”
Devon couldn’t help but issue a derisive snort. “When it comes to men, the Makura don’t do happiness.”
“No? Maybe you should have a little chat with Nabha about happiness, she’s a Makura and somehow managed to make over a hundred years of marriage work.”
Nell turned and flounced out of the room, leaving Devon feeling miserable and hollow, with nothing to do other than lie there, grinding her teeth, waiting for the minute hand to tick over until she could clean the foul smelling gunk off her back.
* * *
“Thank you for driving me.” Devon brushed some lint off her crushed black velvet bolero style jacket that she’d paired with a gauzy black blouse, designer jeans that hugged her perfect ass and her black ankle Prada boots.
Nabha, in the driver’s seat, shrugged, though one of her black grey streaked curls reached over to brush the back of Devon’s hand affectionately. “So this is the last four today? Tomorrow you make your decision?”
“Yes.” Devon bit her lip so she wouldn’t say anything more, she wasn’t going to ask Nabha about her marriage to Adalard. It wasn’t any of her business and it wasn’t like their situations were comparable, her Aunt had chosen to marry for love.
“I remember the night before I was to make my choice. Though I only had to choose between two lizardfish brothers. Boy were they bozos dumb.” Nabha shook her head and laughed. “And they were ugly too, even in their human form they had these razor sharp teeth that gave me nightmares.”
“You had a marriage contract?”
“Of course, I’m a Makura aren’t I?” Nabha gave her huffy look.
“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just you and Adalard… what happened with your marriage contract? Did you go through with it?”
“Very nearly. I tossed a coin, one brother was as good as another, so I went to my Queen to tell her of my decision. You probably don’t remember Queen Ishshal, she was my cousin, older by five decades and a complete an utter bitch. If you even looked at her wrong she’d be in your face, nails flashing, trying to rip your hair out. Quite frankly, I found the woman exhausting. But I was a dutiful daughter of the Makura, determined to fulfil my marriage contract like so many had done before me.”
“Did you know Adalard at the time?”
“No.”
“So what happened, did you go through with it?”
“I told Ishshal I had come before her to announce my choice and you know what… there was this smirk on her face. This smug, superior, haughty look and I just snapped. We were Makura, family, cousins, sisters… but we were not friends, none of us were friends. We were willing to fight beside each other in battle but when the war was over, we would just as willingly turn on each other for amusement, because of petty grievances or out of sheer boredom.”
“What did you do?”
“I looked Ishshal right in her smug face and tore up the contract. I left the court that day.”
“I… everyone thinks you were banished.”
“That was probably Ishshal rewriting history to keep the rest of you in line. I travelled the world and eventually I met Adalard. I can’t describe how much I disliked that man when we first met, so arrogant. We fought hard, still do some days.” A happy smile teased the edges of Nabha’s lips. “I’ve been known to throw the odd frying pan at the man’s head, luckily he has a very thick skull. But in the end, above all else, he is my friend.”
Devon shook her head. She wasn’t fond of the Makura Court, but to willingly walk away? Cut all ties? “I… could… never…”
Nabha laughed again. “Oh, they have you good and brainwashed don’t they my love. All that talk of honour and the Makura way. But think on it… just think, how honourable is it to force us to wed into clans for meaningless alliances? The Makura would have gained nothing if I had wed a lizardfish, other than by acquiescing to my people’s demands I would have announced I was completely under their thumb, to be used as a tool by my Queen. The same could be said for you and The Merrow. You can’t tell me the Makura gain anything out of an alliance with The Merrow other than Gellai, your grandmother, being able to boast that you are so malleable you will do anything she tells you and are obviously not fit to rule in her place.”
“You know she believes I am to be the next ruler?”
“Gossip still travels on the currents and reaches my ears. Makura are trained from birth to treat everyone, even each other, as a potential threat. Don’t judge your grandmother too harshly, she is just a product of her instincts after all… you’re different from them, you think before you react. I know you’ve spent over thirty years having everyone around you drum into you that this marriage is a fait accomplice, but it doesn’t have to be. You do have other choices you could be making. Well, we’re here, have a nice lunch.”
Devon looked around, blinking, how long had they been parked outside the Five Alarm Bar? She hesitated to reach for the door handle. “What’s it like… being on your own?”
Nabha laughed again, gesturing at the large crowds flowing into the bar, Devon recognised a goodly number of them. “Oh, I’m far from alone here at the Sanctuary. I have a husband, sisters, brothers, nieces, nephews and friends. We don’t always see eye to eye on things though thankfully, that would be boring. We might squabble and disagree occasionally but they always… always, have my back, can you say the same about your family?”
Chapter Twenty
“Okay, the game is five card stud.” Devon’s curls shuffled the cards like a pro, fanning the deck across the table in front of her, then flicking it back like cascading dominos before cutting it once, then twice. Four sets of male eyes were glued to the dancing cards. “The rules are simple. No cheating. No crying. Aces are wild, we’ll cut the deck, highest card deals. Any questions?”
“When do we get the rest of our money?”
It was always about the money with the Merrow. Devon bit back a sigh. “You’ll get the rest of your money when the ninety minutes are up.”
“Um…” Martin with the midnight blue eyes studied Devon for a moment, his brothers and then the deck of cards. “Don’t you want to ask us some questions? Get to know us?”
“Yeah.” Donal, whose blonde hair was only a shade or two darker than Liam’s, smirked at her from across the table. “I could tell you about the time Colin here climbed a tree to save a kitten.”
“Hey.” Colin, the tallest, broadest and blondest of the four brothers present reared back in his seat. “I-”
“Shut it.” Devon growled, her curl slamming the pack of cards down in the centre of the table. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“But-” Donal attempted to follow up.
“No, I’m sure the four of you are the vilest scum of the earth, okay. No woman in their right mind would ever want to marry any of you.” Devon gave them a dark green flecked glare of death. “Now shut up, and let’s play poker.”
The four men, in almost a comically timed move, all leaned back slightly in their chairs, eyeing Devon with frozen wariness. Lesser men would have made a run for it there and then. Not that the foursome were brave men, by any means, but there was money still owing to them, and a game of cards with good stakes on offer.
Simon, with the tight blonde curls, was the first to reach out and cut the deck, his brothers quickly following his example.
Devon relaxed back in her seat, taking a sip of wine, even as one of her curls absently snaked forward over her shoulder following the game and providing everyone at the table with added incentive to stick to the rules and not try to cheat.
They’d been playing for half an hour or so when Colin huffed out a breath it seems he’d been holding on to for quite some time and muttered. “I’m considered quite the catch back in Dublin.”
One
of Devon’s curls rapped down hard enough on the table to leave a dent and make their glasses jump. “What did you just say?”
Colin’s light blue eyes widened, as he seemed to realise suddenly that he’d spoken out loud. He glanced around the table but all his half-brothers were studiously gazing at the cards in their hands as if their lives depended upon it. Colin’s gaze returned to the Makura, sizing her up. Jutting out his chin he spoke up. “I said, you’d be lucky to have me for a husband, back home in Dublin I’m considered quite the catch.”
“You?” Simon’s mouth dropped open. “I’m the catch. I own a stud farm and dine with Saudi Princes.”
Donal issued a derisive snort. “You run a horse doping ring and tell people you’re related to the British Royal family. I’m the one who has a private jet, remember.”
“I don’t know what the three of you are talking about.” Martin’s dark blue eyes ran over his brothers dismissively. “Everyone knows I’m the one with a bullseye painted on my forehead here. I’ve written three best-selling novels and my lecture series are always sold out.”
Simon rounded on Martin. “You’re a life coach for pity sake, which is the equivalent of a snake oil salesman, and will you quit bragging about the best-sellers, already. We know you plagiarized all that crap out of 1950’s ladies home journals.”
Devon shifted in her seat and then winced. Her lower back was beginning to throb, the healed skin feeling too tight and suddenly raw. She placed her cards face down and glanced to the left, noting the nearest group of diners sending her supportive sympathetic smiles. She recognised several of them from the Sunshine Seniors group. “I don’t suppose any of you ladies have a painkiller on you?”
There was a gratifying rush as the women dived into the contents of their large bags. Margot Torrent, younger sister to Adelaide and Daphne, came up first with a packet, handing it across immediately, whispering advice as she placed it in Devon’s hands. “I’d ditch those eights if I were you dear, no one ever won big being timid, unless they are playing against idiots.” Margot’s gaze travelled across the squabbling brothers. “On second thoughts, you’ll be fine with the eights.”
