Bound to Blackwood

by Sharon Lipman

  Lena looked impatient as Thorn glanced at her. Her brow knitted and he watched, mesmerised, as the corners of her mouth twitched, no doubt in preparation for the brusque words about to break free. Her frown deepened and she shifted her gaze towards him. He didn’t know what she saw when she looked at him, but her eyes widened as if she was surprised.

  Her beautiful midnight blue eyes met his head on and Thorn gulped. He actually gulped, realising that this was the first time she’d met his gaze all night. He was sure she’d been avoiding making eye contact, he just couldn’t fathom the why of it.

  “Sir?” Roarke said, wrenching Thorn’s attention from Lena.

  “My Steward and I are on a mission.” Thorn said, whilst still considering his answer. He was wary of saying too much to a civilian, but judging by Roarke and Bay’s confused expressions, he needed to say something more.

  It was Lena who spoke next. “Your King and I are investigating a crime that happened many years ago. We’re here to fill in some of the blanks in our information. It would be useful to know more about your father’s death so we can build a better picture of events at that time.”

  Thorn hid his smirk behind his hand. She had reminded the pair, in no uncertain terms, that Thorn was their King without resorting to ripping their heads off. He never knew she could be so diplomatic. He did know, however, that it had probably cost her a great deal of effort, and he couldn’t help but find it amusing.

  “We would be honoured to be of service, Sir,” Bay said enthusiastically before nudging his friend. Roarke nodded violently at the prompt.

  A young maid in a black pinafore and white apron greeted Thorn, Lena, Roarke and Bay at the door of the Bowman Coven.

  House Bowman, was to Lena’s surprise, a reasonably modern home. Mock Tudor in style, it was no doubt designed to fit in with its surroundings, but it couldn’t be more than a few years old. Regardless of its age, it was obvious the owner had a meticulous eye for detail, because, even in the small entrance hall, Lena spotted several tastefully arranged, original, period pieces.

  Lena watched the maid curiously as she curtsied. The woman did not make eye contact with them. It was probably just as well. She could sense the anxiety coming from her and Lena had no doubt that the poor girl would hyperventilate if she realised who had accompanied the Master home.

  “Rose, would you ask my mother to join us in the sitting room," Roarke instructed, before guiding Lena and Thorn towards the rear of the house.

  The sitting room was just as well appointed as the entrance hall, though, as she plonked herself down on the elegant looking couch, Lena discovered it wasn’t nearly as comfortable as it looked. Thorn took the seat beside her, the low level lighting casting shadows across his broad features. Bizarrely, the lack of light made his golden eyes seem even brighter than usual. Just what I need!

  Roarke and Bay take seats on the sofa opposite, but Lena's gaze kept returning to Thorn’s profile, stealing glances at him from underneath her lashes like some pathetic youngling. Pathetic as it was, she was still watching him when the door burst open announcing the arrival of the House Bowman Maluth.

  Larissa Bowman was a tall, blonde, ferocious looking woman. She swept into the room like a Queen. Her house may be newly built, but she obviously hadn’t moved with the times that much; her long black gown was reminiscent of a medieval princess and her hair was arranged in some sort of elaborate up-do. She ignored Lena and Thorn, instead narrowing her eyes at her son. All three males sprang to their feet to greet her, yet she focused solely on Roarke. She did not look happy.

  “Perhaps you have forgotten, Roarke, but I am Maluth here. I do not expect to be summoned within my own House.”

  “I apologise, Mother” Roarke said quietly as he kissed her outstretched hand. “Something very important…”

  “I will be the judge of that,” she interrupted, her voice harsh and shrill.

  Lena hid a snigger behind a cough. She hadn’t liked Larissa Bowman on sight. Nothing in the last few seconds had changed her opinion and she couldn’t wait for Larissa to acknowledge her son’s guests.

  Larissa was lucky Thorn was the male he was. Had Lena been in the King’s shoes, she had no doubt in her mind that she would have reduced Larissa to a pile of ash for her lack of respect and proprietary. As it was, Thorn looked more amused than anything.

  The other woman was half-way through a dramatic sweep of her dress when she stopped dead. Lena watched the realisation dawn in the woman's storm-cloud eyes, but Larissa was shrewd; she didn't let a hint of any further emotion reach her stern face. Her son stepped in, rescuing his Mother from further embarrassment. More's the pity.

  “Maluth Larissa of House Bowman,” Roarke said, “may I present Lena of House Blackwood, Steward of the Watch.”

  Larissa span on her heels to face her and simply nodded.

  Lena watched closely as Larissa’s gaze shifted to Thorn for the first time. She appeared to stop breathing and Lena tried really hard not to grin like the proverbial Cheshire. It didn’t work.

  “Maluth Larissa of House Bowman, may I present His Majesty, King Thorn of House Blackwood.” Roarke's voice was surprisingly level.

  Like a switch had flipped in the woman's brain Larissa became the very epitome of serene grace. A smile that didn't suit her spread across her face as she dropped into a perfect curtsey. “Your Majesty, you honour us.”

  “Please, call me Thorn,” he replied, extending his hand to shake hers. As Lena watched the exchange, she knew something with absolute certainty. She hated Larissa Bowman.

  Ever gracious, Thorn tried to put Larissa at ease. “I apologise for visiting unannounced. We are here on official Order business and your son has been most helpful. Perhaps we should have some tea,” Thorn suggested to Roarke, who leaped up to ring the bell.

  “Yes, we’ll have tea and cake, Roarke,” she said, smiling sweetly though her voice was harsh.

  True, Lena thought Roarke greasy and snivelly, but she didn’t dislike him. In fact, the more she saw of his mother, the more she thought Roarke had done well to turn out as well as he had.

  “Is your other son at home?” Lena asked, purposely not using Larissa’s title. As Steward, Lena outranked the other woman by an awfully long way and she was determined to treat her with the contempt she deserved. “Roarke mentioned Crane. We would like to talk to him.”

  Larissa’s expression changed dramatically at the mention of Crane. Pride and love flowed so strongly from her that Lena could almost touch the emotions. Had Lena not just witnessed the detachment with which Larissa treated her youngest son, Lena would have found it warming to her very core. She envied the love a family gave one another. As it was, she now disliked Larissa Bowman even more intensely.

  “Crane is otherwise engaged, Lena. He will be home presently,” Larissa mirrored Lena’s insult by not addressing her as Steward. Since Thorn had already given the Maluth leave to use his first name, Lena couldn’t complain. That didn’t mean she wasn’t itching to punch Larissa Bowman in the face though.

  Polite conversation was not Lena’s forte. With nothing more to say to the awful woman, she rose from her seat to stand by the window. At least from there she could comfortably see the large back garden and the door to the sitting room. She hadn’t forgotten that without Kaden, Thorn’s safety was down to her. He was a proud warrior so she hadn’t brought it up with him, but it didn’t make it any less true.

  She mentally checked her weapons inventory — four throwing knives, two on each leg at thigh and ankle; six bladed stars; two semi-automatic pistols and four spare clips of small calibre armour-piercing rounds all neatly arranged on her utility belt. Her long sword was in its specially made scabbard down her spine.

  The guns were her only concession to her elevated status. She liked to be up close and personal when she did her killing and she thought guns were cheating. Kaden always teased about that. He couldn’t understand how a Vampire so young could be so old-fashioned. He also couldn’t
beat her in a fair sword fight, so she thought there were a few sour grapes in amongst all the teasing.

  She looked back over at Thorn. From this position, she could only see the back of his head and those massive shoulders as he leant forward to talk to Larissa. He kept his voice low, but Lena could hear every word. Thorn was filling Larissa in on the conversation they'd had with Roarke at the pub.

  Larissa leant forward making the whole scene look all the more intimate. As she smiled and batted her eyes at Thorn, the internal lava Lena had managed to keep at simmering point for the last few hours suddenly ignited. The blood roared around her head as Larissa brushed a loose lock of hair away from her face. The noise in her head was so deafening, Lena could no longer hear what was being said.

  She watched Larissa say something that made Thorn laugh. Larissa joined in, her eyes all asparkle with amusement.

  Then it happened. Larissa reached out, playfully brushing Thorn’s arm.

  A menacing growl sprang forth uninvited. It was so unexpected, it took Lena a second to realise the sound was coming from her.

  Larissa snatched back her hand as though she’d been bitten. She met Lena’s gaze with a silent “Oh” before shooting back in her chair.

  Lena managed to silence the growl as Thorn turned around, but she knew her lip was still curled. She stared into Thorn’s eyes, now the colour of the midday sun. She assumed he was angry, but the expression on his face didn’t match the emotion. Unless she was very much mistaken, Thorn Blackwood was looking at her in wonder.

  Chapter 8

  Kaden literally fell into bed. His chest heaved with the effort of simply breathing. His entire body was racked with pain as he tried to lay still, concentrating on not passing out.

  It was not in his nature to ask for help. Ever. He stared at the medical equipment surrounding his bed, the red alert button seemed to grow larger, until everything else became invisible. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to push it.

  His breathing was just about under control when he sensed someone hovering outside the room. He knew instantly it wasn’t Soraya, but annoyingly, he found he had to concentrate that bit harder before discerning it was Mercury. That hadn’t happened to him in over five hundred years. Damn it.

  “What do you want Mercury?“ he all but growled at the Vampire still lurking in the hallway.

  “Thought I’d come an' see 'ow you are,” Mercury replied, his voice holding a slight tremor.

  Kaden felt his brow knit. Mercury was not normally nervous; he’d have to care about himself first. Holy Mother of Fae, do I look that bad?

  “So, 'ow are ya?” Mercury made his way through the door.

  I feel like my blood is on fire and I’m in constant agony. “Fine. Can’t wait to get out of here,” Kaden replied.

  Mercury looked visibly relieved as his shoulders loosened and he let out a sigh. “Glad to hear it, Boss. Wouldn’t want you to lose your touch or anythin',” he said, wonky smile returning to his otherwise grim looking face.

  “So, what’s been happening? Lena done anything else stupid?”

  Mercury gave a short, sharp laugh in response before flopping into the easy chair at the side of the bed. “Yeah, that was a turn up wasn’t it?”

  “You think? Where is she anyway?” He knew she was somewhere in Surrey and he knew Thorn was with her. Beyond that, he didn’t have a clue and it really pissed him off. Some Keeper he was.

  “She and Thorn 'ave gone to Norton. Greenshire gave us his mission dispatches, so they’re retracing his steps,” Mercury explained.

  “Makes sense, I suppose. And the rest of you?”

  “Oh don’t worry, the Steward 'as given us orders,” he replied.

  A week ago, Mercury’s reply would have been dripping with disdain. Now though, Kaden could sense only playful sarcasm. This indeed was a revelation. Kaden arched his brow at the Guardian. “Orders?”

  “Yeah. She’s got Sky, Ryver and me working on the archives.”

  Kaden heard himself gulp before he could stop it. He was itching to get to them too, but given what happened to him the last time they went after the archives, he hated the thought of any of his Guardians meeting the same fate. He especially hated the thought of them going out without him to Keep them safe.

  His brow furrowed again. He hadn’t sensed anyone but Thorn and Lena leaving the compound.

  “We’ve been in the Command Centre almost non-stop for the last two days,” Mercury continued, oblivious to Kaden’s worries.

  Relief wrapped around Kaden like a warm security blanket. At least he hadn’t completely lost his mind, though he still had no clue what the Guardian was talking about. Confusion must have shown in his face as Mercury looked surprised. Shit. Kaden hated being out of the loop.

  “Ah. Yeah. Lena actually 'ad a good idea.”

  Mercury filled him in on Lena’s plan of finding the Fallen archive servers. Even he had to admit it was a sound idea. He cursed himself for not thinking of it first, but found some comfort in the realisation that nobody else had thought of it either. “Any report back from Lena yet?”

  “Only that they’re at the local coven waiting to question someone. House Bowman, I think she said.”

  “Ah yes, the indomitable Maluth Larissa,” Kaden replied.

  “You know her?”

  “Only enough to know I don’t care for her.”

  Mercury laughed. “If you don’t care for 'er, I’d love to know what Lena thinks of 'er.”

  Kaden grinned back at the Guardian. Mercury was right. Lena would hate Larissa Bowman on sight.

  Pain seared behind his eyes and he barely contained a groan. If Mercury’s startled expression was anything to go by, he knew he failed in his attempt not to grimace. Fuck. What in the name of Blackwood was going on? He was a warrior and Keeper of the Watch. He’d been in this god-damned clinic for nearly a week and still felt like hell.

  “Listen, Boss, you look done in. I’m gonna make a move.”

  “Nah. Just pissed off being stuck in here. Waste of fucking time is what it is.”

  “Yeah I know. Orders is orders though.” Mercury was probably aiming for jovial rhetoric but he missed the mark.

  The realisation that, in all likelihood, he looked worse than he felt only served to exacerbate the grimace Kaden still hadn’t been able to shake. Mercury made his exit and Kaden closed his eyes against the overhead lamp that now seemed far too bright. His head hurt, his back ached. He thought about turning over but found he couldn’t muster the energy.

  He heard more footsteps in the corridor and, for a moment, he thought Mercury was on his way back. He was mistaken. The footfall was light and soft and the nearer the sound got the more at ease he felt. Soraya was on her way.

  Thank you, Faerie.

  Every time Soraya visited, all the agony paled into insignificance. When she was with him he felt… What did he feel? Brilliant? Magnificent? Glorious? All the above?

  Her very presence was the balm he needed.

  She always bought all sorts of medical paraphernalia with her. She tested this and that, gave him supplements he couldn’t even pronounce. She made sure he ate regularly, fed regularly. All that didn’t matter though.

  As Soraya laid a delicate hand on his forehead, he felt a peace he never knew existed. Kaden sighed and instantly regretted it as Soraya snatched her hand away. He cracked open an eye to watch her pretending to re-tie her hair, looking embarrassed.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I thought you were sleeping.”

  “No, just resting.”

  “I’ll go then.”

  “No!” Kaden shouted at her and Soraya’s beautiful eyes widened. Damn it Kaden, you’re an imbecile. “Sorry. It’s just…” He tried to find the words but failed.

  “It’s just what?” Soraya asked, her surprise now replaced with genuine concern.

  What was he going to say? That she made him feel like a warrior again, simply by walking into the room? Genius plan. What actually came out
was, “It’s very isolated down here. I enjoy your company.”

  “Oh!” She looked flabbergasted.

  Had he really just asked the Princess to keep him company because he was lonely? Yep. Dullard.

  A shy smile broke out on Soraya’s delicate face. “Well, alright then. I find I enjoy your company too, Keeper.”

  Kaden smiled back and Soraya discarded her equipment to sit in the easy chair.

  “So,” he said.

  “So,” Soraya replied.

  Well, this was awkward. “Um. What have you been up to?” he asked, not having the slightest clue what else to say.

  “Actually, I’ve been doing some research,” she replied, her voice still delicate, but full of confidence.

  “Research? On what?”

  “You."

  His brow shot up in astonishment. “Me?”

  “Well, your blood work to be precise.” She laughed a soft, feminine laugh. Kaden thought it was the most wonderful thing he’d ever heard. Warrior indeed!

  “And where have you got to?” He had no doubt in his mind that he wouldn’t understand anything too technical, but she seemed so enthusiastic, he found he wanted to hear what she had to say, regardless.

  “Well, you are something of an anomaly.”

  “Figures.”

  She laughed again but her brow creased as she replied. “I’ve managed to isolate the anticoagulant, but I’m still analysing it.”

  Kaden nodded.

  “I think it's some kind of thrombolytic rather than a general anticoagulant. Either way, the chemical make-up isn’t something I’ve seen before, so it’s definitely new. What puzzles me, is why it’s still affecting you. Your prothrombin should be much improved by now.”

  “Uh huh.” Nope, not a clue.

  “Sorry. What I mean is that your blood plasma is still showing decreased levels of clotting.”

  “Which means?”

  “Well.” The frown marring her beautiful forehead deepened. “Essentially, your blood tests look almost the same as they did when Thorn bought you in.”