Bound to Blackwood

by Sharon Lipman

  What was she supposed to say? He was right of course, but she would far rather be hunting Fallen in the middle of the day, in the desert, than she would spending a relaxing night with her brethren. She puffed out a breath. “I think I’ll hit the gym instead,” she suggested, hoping Thorn wouldn’t see through the thinly veiled excuse.

  “You will not. You will hit the den. With me.”

  Oh crap. The den was the boy’s territory. Not officially, but it was their space. It was filled with boy stuff like dartboards, a pool table, PlayStation, Xbox, Wii, home cinema, and an amazingly elaborate sound system. Lena hung out there from time to time, but she always felt like a guest. Tonight she would probably be an unwelcome guest. Just brilliant.

  The walk to the den only brought her anxiety closer to the surface, but when they entered, Lena’s brow shot up in surprise. Soraya leant up against the pool table, cue in hand. She could probably count on one hand the number of times she’d seen Soraya mixing with the Order informally.

  She wasn’t entirely sure what Thorn's sister did with her spare time, but she was amazed that the Princess even knew what a cue was, let alone how to use it. Soraya always seemed so reserved. Well, apart from when she was talking to her brother. Soraya had Thorn wrapped around her little finger.

  The rest of the Order was there too, though whether they were there already or whether they were following orders, she couldn’t be sure. Ryver was sprawled out on one of the huge couches at the far end of the room. Beer in hand, he raised it in salute as Lena made her way over to him. She plonked herself down next to his feet and let out a sigh.

  “Rough night, Steward?” Ryver asked, a little smirk forming on his lips.

  She knew he was teasing her but found she was too exhausted to take the bait. She smiled back at him and gave a short laugh. “What do you think?” She quickly added, “On second thought, don’t answer that.”

  She didn’t want the telepath to see her flippant remark as an invitation to wander around her addled brain. She regretted saying it though as she saw his hazel eyes flash green.

  “Sorry, Ryver. I didn’t mean…”

  “Yeah you did.”

  What was it Thorn said? You could do with rebuilding your bridges. Nice one Lena. She’d been here for less than five minutes and already she’d offended one of the few friends she had by insinuating he would tap into her thoughts on a whim. Well, this was going well. She felt her brow knit as she struggled to find the right words.

  “Jesus. Don’t be so uptight, Lena.” he said, letting her off the hook.

  She glanced over at him and saw his eyes sparkle with amusement and couldn’t help but return the look. Soon, a wide, slightly crooked, grin broke on Ryver’s face and she couldn’t contain her laugh. She threw a pillow at him in mock annoyance and he chuckled.

  “You want a beer?” he asked.

  “It’s okay. I’ll get them.”

  “No need,” he said, mischief plastered all over his face. He lifted the arm of the chair and reached inside, pulling out two ice-cold beers. “Here you go.”

  “Ryver, what have you done to the sofa?” Lena asked in alarm. Kaden had decorated this room and he was somewhat particular about things, like not ripping the sofa apart.

  “Me and Mercury made some improvements.” Ryver smiled innocently. “Look!”

  She leaned over to get a better view. He lifted the arm up again, and sure enough, there was a small beer fridge. It held around ten beers and a couple of cans of Coke.”

  “Bloody Nora, Ryver!”

  “I know. We’re awesome. You don’t have to say it.”

  A belly laugh erupted, uninvited from Lena’s lips. Once it started, she found she couldn’t stop and Ryver soon joined her. She laughed until she was clutching her ribs in protest, the pair of them rolling around on the sofa like a couple of kids. The pure normalcy of what Ryver said served as just the tonic she needed.

  She was still grinning like an idiot when she took the first swig of her beer and looked around the rest of the room. The others were playing a game of doubles on the pool table and Mercury looked like he was physically connected to the PlayStation as he killed a platoon of Nazi’s with a rocket launcher. So normal. She realised she really ought to do this more often.

  Her smile dimmed. She felt eyes on her before she even realised Thorn was in the room. He was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes flashed brilliant gold and she could swear he was growling. No one else seemed to notice though, so maybe she imagined it.

  As usual, the King’s intense stare made her insides flush with an uninvited fire. The feeling was so at odds with the hilarity of the moments before that she shifted in her seat, clenching her thighs together as she moved. Thorn continued to stare.

  Lena felt Ryver move away from her, further towards his beloved beer fridge. She looked at her friend in confusion but Ryver just shrugged. What the hell was going on? Thorn was still staring right through her and she couldn’t help but check if there was someone behind her, just in case he wasn’t really looking at her. There wasn’t and he was.

  Bewildered, she risked another glance. As he caught her gaze, he seemed to check himself and shook his head. The intense expression dissipated, his eyes returning to their usual amber hue, and his brow furrowed with a look of confusion that matched her own. Before she could raise her brow in a silent question, Soraya bounded over and wrapped her arms around his neck. The confusion disappeared, instantly replaced by the joy he found whenever his sister was with him.

  “Ryver?” she whispered. “Did you see that?”

  “Yeah, I saw it,” he murmured back.

  “Well?” she asked, hoping he could explain what just happened.

  “Well what?” He was still staring across the room. “Don’t ask me! I don’t even want to think about what that look means!”

  “What in Caeles is that supposed to mean?” she hissed back at him.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Yeah, Ryver. I do.”

  “It might not mean anything...”

  “But?” she pushed.

  “I’ve only ever seen that look on one and you won’t like what it means.”

  “W-what does it mean, Ryver?”

  Ryver looked her in the eye as he whispered “The only time I’ve seen a Vampire look at a woman like that was when my father looked at my mother.”

  “What?” She felt her eyes fly wide in astonishment.

  “Yeah you know, that look.”

  “Why in God’s name would Thorn be looking at me like that?”

  “I have no idea why anyone would look at you like that!” He said as he took another gulp of beer, his lips curling into a smirk.

  Lena’s gaze wandered back to Thorn. Soraya had cajoled him into playing pool and he was squatting at the table, tawny eyes taking in the position of the pool balls, face deep in concentration as he eyed up his next shot. It was as if the bizarre scene that played out just moments before never happened.

  The other players were laughing and joking as Soraya tried to move the black ball without being noticed. Thorn’s deep laugh penetrated her thoughts as he stood up to poke his sister playfully in the ribs. Maybe she imagined it? But then, Ryver saw it too.

  “Maybe we were just seeing things?” she suggested.

  “Yeah. That’s probably it.” But Ryver's voice lacked its usual conviction.

  Lena frowned at him. “I think I need another drink.”

  “You’re not the only one!” He smiled as he retrieved more beers.

  Lena took the bottle he offered and glugged back the cool, refreshing liquid. She downed nearly the whole bottle before she turned to her friend and asked, “I don’t suppose you’ve got any tequila in there?”

  Ryver’s hazel eyes glittered with mischief again. “I thought you’d decided not to drink tequila when I’m around?”

  How did he know that? He wasn’t even with her when she thought that! She was so c
areful to guard her thoughts when Ryver was around. Lena felt her mouth flapping around as she struggled to find a sensible reply but failed. All that came out was “How?”

  Ryver grinned as he shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

  “Yeah right!” she shot back.

  “It’s not a bad motto though,” he said, his eyebrow arching in mockery.

  Lena pushed out a hard breath before she realised she was smiling again.

  “Come on. Let's throw a few arrows.” He hauled himself off the oversized sofa and headed towards the dartboard opposite the pool table. “You could do with the practice.”

  Practice? Cheeky sod. Lena couldn’t remember the last time anyone beat her at darts. She was so good that no one even challenged her to a game any more, including Kaden, and he was one of the most competitive people she knew. She followed Ryver to the oche, mentally prepared to wipe the floor with him.

  Thorn watched Lena make her way across the room to where Ryver was switching on the spotlights above the dartboard. He concentrated on keeping his face expressionless as he watched her smiling at the Guardian before taking up position on the oche. On the inside however he was raging. And that confused him.

  Two days ago this woman nearly got his best friend killed. The fury he felt would have resulted in hand-to-hand combat with any of the other Guardians. Lena wasn’t just another Guardian though, she was a woman and he just couldn’t bring himself to exact that kind of punishment on her. Chauvinist? Probably, but he was nearly eight hundred years old; some habits died hard.

  Instead, he handed her the mantel of Steward. It was an attempt to rein in her reckless behaviour and make better use of her extraordinary talent for tracking Fallen. In his opinion, Lena had sat at the sidelines of the Order for too long. Leading a team of Guardians was just what she needed.

  Why then, had he all but ripped Ryver’s throat out for sitting next to her? He stifled a growl as he remembered her leaning over the Guardian to inspect his sofa upgrade. It had taken all his inner strength to remain by the door as the two laughed to the point of pain. He had never felt like this before and he certainly hadn’t looked at Lena like this before. What was worse, Lena had seen the look on his face and he winced at the memory.

  Perhaps the need to create a different punishment for her had led to him realising just how different she was. Had he seen her without seeing her, he wondered? She was the only woman in the Order, but she fought and swore as well as any of the men. Thorn had never considered that her sex should make a difference. Now though, he wasn’t so sure.

  There was no doubting her warrior instinct, despite her lineage, but Thorn now saw a feminine grace in the way she moved. He marvelled at the way her eyes sparkled when she was amused or darkened to the colour of pitch when she was angry. Then there were those hips. Surely, he must have noticed those before?

  He watched her take aim and take her first shot. His mouth was in danger of lifting at the corners as the dart she threw all but punctured the wall behind the board. She hit the treble twenty, of course. Two more darts followed in quick succession.

  “One hundred and eighty!” she whooped, flashing Ryver a huge grin as she aimed a high-five in his direction. The Guardian returned the gesture, smacking her hand as he readied himself to throw.

  Without warning, such a feeling of heat curled its way through Thorn’s body that he nearly gasped at the shock. The feeling started in the pit of his stomach, but he soon felt it in every part of his being. He looked down at his hands to discover they were curling into fists of their own volition. He was still holding a pool cue and he fought against the tide to prevent it from snapping like a toothpick. The image of Ryver grasping Lena’s hand in celebration burned in his mind. He found he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else touching her. Not even her hand.

  Soraya’s face appeared in front of his and it was as if he'd been doused with cold water. “Are you going to take your shot?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “It’s your go Thorn,” she said, searching his face.

  Of course it was. He was playing pool. Yes, that’s what he was doing. He definitely wasn’t dreaming up ways of exsanguinating Ryver.

  Shaking the feeling of confusion, Kaden’s words came back to haunt him once more. You’d better watch yourself, Thorn Blackwood. That woman is nothing but trouble. He hated it when Kaden was right.

  Kaden made it out of bed and into the day room the medical centre offered. Since he was currently their only patient he could have just stayed in his room, but it felt great to be out of bed. He wasn’t a good patient and had little doubt in his mind that it was only Soraya’s bedside manner that kept him in the centre.

  Normally he would far rather be in the den with the boys, but he was embarrassed to admit — to himself at least — that Soraya captivated him. Her beautiful golden eyes pierced his soul like a ray of sunlight and her shy smile whenever she caught him staring at her endeared her even more.

  He'd always admired Soraya from afar, but Thorn could be an overbearing big brother. She rarely had the opportunity to relax with the rest of the Order. He was grateful to have an excuse to be here, even if it had nearly been the death of him. Silver linings and all that.

  He looked up from the book he was pretending to read at the sound of heavy boots hitting the stone floor of the corridor. Speaking of overbearing big brothers. Thorn Blackwood strode past the window of the day room and then back again. The King was given to pacing when he was trying to solve something, so Kaden waited. He was surprised that Thorn paced quite so much as he did; he counted thirteen march-pasts before Thorn stopped in the doorway of the day room.

  Kaden’s breath caught in his chest. He hadn’t seen his friend look so distraught since, well since his Mother died. Good Goddess! What could have happened to paint that picture on his face? The Order had been kept at home tonight so unless Lena had done something really stupid, everyone should be tucked up safe and sound.

  Though he searched his friend’s face for clues he was found wanting. Thorn pushed himself away from the door frame, strode across the room and plonked himself down in the easy chair next to him. Thorn raked his hand through his hair and swore under his breath. Kaden waited.

  “How you doing?” Thorn finally asked.

  “How am I doing?” Kaden tried to hide the surprise in his voice. “Peachy. You?”

  “Yeah. I’m good.”

  “Really? You don’t look it, mate. You want me to see if Soraya has a spare bed? You look like shit.”

  Thorn let out a short laugh, but continued to look at the floor in front of him. Well this was weird. It was true there weren’t many people Thorn could unburden himself to, but he never hesitated to chew over a problem with Kaden before.

  “It's nothing really,” was all Thorn said.

  “Yeah right. And I’m Fallen in disguise. Come on Thorn. You’re starting to freak me out. What’s going on?”

  “It's Lena.” He whispered her name so quietly, Kaden almost didn’t catch it.

  “I fucking knew it.” His voice was shrill. “I told you making her Steward of the Watch was a fucking stupid idea. I swear to the moon, if she got someone else hurt...”

  “Its nothing like that,” Thorn interrupted.

  “What then?”

  Instead of answering, Thorn stood up and paced around the room. Occasionally he looked at Kaden as if he was going to say something, but then changed his mind and paced some more. Eventually, he retook his seat. “Something happened tonight.”

  Thorn shifted in his seat. Was the King actually squirming? This had to be good because Kaden had never seen Thorn squirm. Ever.

  “I told everyone to take the night off and spend the evening in the den.” He looked at Kaden as though seeking permission to carry on. Kaden just nodded. “Lena wanted to go to the gym, but I ordered her to build some bridges with the others. I was late so everyone else was already there when I got there. Lena was with Ryver.”

  Kaden felt th
e lines in his brow tighten further. Lena was always with Ryver. This didn’t explain anything. “And?” he prompted.

  Thorn sighed and whispered, “And I saw red. Well, green, to be precise.”

  Kaden’s mouth fell open and he was suddenly lost for words. Thorn was jealous of Ryver? The King was jealous of a fifty year old Guardian? “I’m sorry. What did you just say?”

  “Jesus, Kaden. I don’t know what happened. One minute Ryver was showing Lena the sofa-fridge update he and Mercury have installed…”

  “Sofa update?”

  “…the next I’m staring at her like a man possessed and wanting to rip Ryver apart with a blunt object. If it hadn’t been for Soraya, I might have done it.”

  “Serious?” Kaden asked.

  “Serious.”

  Christ. What was he supposed to say to that? Thorn wasn’t given to public displays of emotion. This was a problem. A major fucking problem.

  The two men stared at the floor for a long time, Thorn raking his hand through his black hair, Kaden rubbing his temples as though the actions would present some sort of answer. An idea so bizarre popped into his mind, he started saying it before he could stop it. “You don’t think she’s…”

  “She’s what?”

  “Nah. It’s stupid.”

  “What?” The pitch in Thorn’s voice rose.

  “She’s not your Amocinta.” Kaden stated rather than asked, knowing the idea was ridiculous.

  Thorn’s eyes bulged at the suggestion. He shook his head violently, only to stop just as suddenly and look at his friend in wonder.

  “Listen, Thorn, forget I said anything. It’s been a rough couple of days, emotions are running high, you know?”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

  “Yeah.”

  Neither sounded convinced, and both went back to staring at the lino.

  Finally, Thorn rose. Placing his huge hand on Kaden’s shoulder he said, “It's way past dawn. I think I’m gonna hit the hay. You should do the same, Keeper. You look rough.”

  Kaden smiled at his friend. “I will.” Thorn turned to leave but Kaden grabbed his arm before he could go. “You keep me posted, alright?”