by Mary Calmes
I bumped him again, even gentler the second time.
“What?” He chuckled, moving closer so he could stand between my knees.
“What did he say?” Phoebe’s mother asked again.
“So this is, what, permanent now?” Ryan asked.
“Do warders drain kyries?” Julian wanted to know, and I got the feeling the thought had just occurred to him.
“No,” Raphael told him, “only humans,” before turning back to look down at me. “Answer him.”
“What?”
“Answer the warder.”
I looked back at Ryan. “Yeah, we’re gonna date, see how it goes.”
“How do you date a kyrie?”
I coughed. “He moves in.”
“Oooh, he moved in already?” Phoebe purred. “That’s so hot.”
“I thought he said demonic something,” Gaby’s grandmother asked again.
“Mom, go get a drink,” Cash suggested to his mother-in-law, hitting Raphael in the arm hard as soon as the older woman turned away.
“What the fuck was that for?”
“Don’t swear in front of the baby,” Phoebe cautioned him.
“She’s two weeks old.” Cash defended my… boyfriend? “How does she know, Phoeb?”
I still wasn’t really sure what Raphael and I were. Fuck buddies? Friends with benefits? He had been living in my house and sleeping in my bed for the past three days. The truth was that if I wanted to see him I had to add a line on my phone plan and move him in permanently. The man had a place he slept, not a home, just a room, he told me, in another dimension. It did not have electricity. It did not, in fact, even have running water. In my world, he stayed in seedy motels that he paid for by the night. If I wanted to see him, if I wanted to meet him for dinner and drinks, he had to live with me. He had no home beyond the one I would, or would not, decide to provide for him because he did not technically exist. He didn’t have a credit rating or a social security number or a birth certificate. He could not even rent anything. If I wanted him around, he had to move in. He had asked to stay, and I had told him he could. Beyond that, there was nothing more substantial or concrete.
Every day I liked that arrangement less.
I had told him that I wanted him to go wherever he needed to, collect his things, and bring them back.
“Why?”
“I think that would be obvious.”
“You want me to bring my treasures to your home?”
“Yes.”
“Even as you have claimed me, even if you make a home for me, you still won’t own me,” he had said, leaning forward, kissing a trail up the side of my neck to my ear.
“No?” I shivered as he had sucked my lobe into his hot mouth.
“No, I do as I like. I return only if I want to.”
“Do you want to?”
“Oh yes,” he said, his hands sliding over my hips, drawing me forward. “I want nothing more.”
“Jacks?”
My head snapped up to Ryan, and I realized they were all looking down at me because my mind had been drifting and I had been all the way across town, back in bed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t say that shit in front of Phoebe’s mother,” Cash warned Raphael.
“Cash Vega!”
“What did—”
“You’re swearing in front of the baby,” I told him, gesturing at Gaby, who took that moment to squeak.
We all watched as Raphael took her off his shoulder and cradled her in his arms. Her eyes blinked open, she looked up, gave him the face that was either gas or a smile, and promptly fell back to sleep.
“She really likes you,” Julian said.
“I’m likable,” Raphael told him.
I had to agree.
I HAD called Jael while he was in Scotland and given him my weird news, so I was not surprised when I was summoned, along with the new man in my life, to his home when he got back from his trip. My phone had beeped as we were leaving Cash and Phoebe’s, and Ryan had overheard me talking to Raphael.
“Julian and I will come along,” he said and left no room for argument. “I’ll drive.”
“Is he gonna test me or try and kill me?” Raphael asked worriedly from the backseat of Ryan’s Jeep. “Should we make a stop at home so I can get my sword?”
“No,” I soothed him, taking his hand. “It’ll be fine.”
He did not look convinced but hid his concern with a topic change. “What’s with this crappy Jeep, man?” he asked Ryan. “You should get it painted.”
“Yes, he should,” Julian agreed. “I think cherry red.”
“Or darker, like blood.” Raphael’s eyes glittered.
“You can take the demon out of hell…,” Ryan began before Julian pinched him, hard.
“Owww, shit.”
I flicked the back of his ear. “He’s not a demon.”
“For crissakes, I’m driving!”
But it made Raphael smile, and I was glad.
When we reached Jael’s home, his mansion in Sausalito that outside looked normal but inside like some medieval Celtic castle, I was surprised to find Marcus, Leith, and Malic there as well. Jael seemed surprised to see Ryan.
“I was just about to call you.”
“Now you don’t have to.”
He opened his mouth to say something.
“I think you should have all the others go and get their hearths as well, and you should bring your lady in so we can all meet her,” Ryan suggested.
I had never seen Jael so flummoxed and never, ever, heard anyone give him orders.
“You see,” I told my sentinel under my breath, tipping my head at Ryan, “you’re wrong, you know. The next sentinel of San Francisco won’t be me. It’ll be Ryan Dean.”
And I saw him realize that even though Ryan didn’t particularly enjoy being a warder, he understood duty and pride.
I pulled Raphael back into a corner as Malic, Marcus, and Leith all got on their cell phones to call their mates.
“I think your friend Ryan just sort of cleared a path for me when he acted like it was nothing that I was here,” he said, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I think so too. I’ll have to thank him.”
“You do that.”
Half an hour later everyone was assembled—Joe, Marcus’s hearth, still complaining about the smell of the cab he’d just been in, and Simon agreeing, as they’d shared it, that it had smelled like the bathroom at the BART station downtown.
“What?” Joe snapped, aware that everyone was looking at him even though he couldn’t see them. “It did.”
“It did,” Simon agreed, looking crisp and polished and handsome in his three-piece suit. His dark hair and charcoal-gray eyes were a striking contrast, and I understood, as always, why he had caught Leith’s eye to begin with. Watching the long-haired blond man grab the businessman’s hand made me smile.
There was another knock on the door, and when Ian, Jael’s butler, went to get it, Dylan Shaw, Malic’s hearth, came breezing through.
He smiled big, gave Ian a pat on the arm that the older man rolled his eyes over—it was not appropriate, after all—and then saw me and Raphael. Malic didn’t even have a chance to call him before he darted across the room, bounding to a stop in front of us.
“Hey.” He smiled wide, holding out his hand for the kyrie. “I missed you.”
And only Dylan could have said it and made it sound so genuine. He always meant absolutely everything he said. I had no idea the amount of energy it must have taken to live that way, so absolutely in the present all the time.
Raphael took Dylan’s hand, and the young man grabbed him, hugging him, as Malic was suddenly there.
“Oh hey.” Dylan’s smile got bigger, out of control, brimming with love for the surly warder before he leaped at him and Malic had to catch him in his arms.
“Fuck,” Malic growled, turning his neck, which Dylan had both his arms wrapped around, to Jael as he entered the room
with a very elegant-looking woman on his arm.
“Nice first impression, asshole,” Ryan grunted.
“Me?”
“Gentlemen.” Jael’s voice boomed through the room. “I want you to meet Deidre Macauley.”
They all smiled and waved at her. I left Raphael and walked over to her and lifted my arms for a hug.
She seemed surprised but unwound her arm from Jael’s and stepped into me. I hugged her gently, gave her an extra squeeze at the end, and then let her go as I told her how glad I was that she was there and hoped she had planned on a nice long visit.
The look I got was interest and appreciation and warmth all rolled up together. “Jael, you never told me your warders were so charming.”
“I had no idea they were,” he answered honestly.
She nodded slowly, studying me. “How old were you when you were called?”
“Sixteen,” I told her.
All warders were orphans, alone in the world, which was the reason a hearth was absolutely vital. There had to be a grounding presence in the life of a warder or they slowly went mad. Everyone wanted to be loved; to a warder it was life or death.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her hand lifting to my face, her own brows furrowing.
“It’s all right,” I soothed her, coming back to the present, having been lost in my own thoughts for a minute. “But I think that’s another one of the many reasons it would be nice if you were here; then we’d have a family again.”
She gasped, getting it, the fact that if Jael was our surrogate father, then if she was there and with him, that made her the mom in the equation.
From the look on her face, the idea held great appeal.
“Oh Jaka,” Jael said, reaching out to pat the same cheek her hand had just vacated. “I should have you move in to make sure she stays.”
“Jael,” she whispered. “I had no idea that you—”
“I want you here,” he said, turning to look down at her from his towering height.
She was overwhelmed, in a good way, but overwhelmed nevertheless.
“Is this why we were called over here?” Leith interrupted.
I took that opportunity to whisper again how glad I was to meet her before returning to Raphael. The second I reached him, he took my hand. It was nice.
“I mean, if it was, great, let’s all sit down and have a drink and talk, but if it’s not, can we get to it? ’Cause Malic and I have to patrol later.”
“No.” Jael cleared his throat. “I wanted you all over here to discuss the concerns of having a kyrie among us.”
Raphael’s hand clenched mine, but I leaned closer, shoulder to shoulder with him, and felt his tension ease.
“Why?” Julian asked my sentinel.
“Because you all have the right to know who or what—”
“No, we don’t.” Leith cut him off. “And this is crap. All those in favor of the kyrie staying with Jackson say aye. Aye.”
“We’re voting on that?” Julian was surprised.
“I didn’t know we were voting?” Joe chimed in, his smile huge.
“Oh yeah.” Dylan’s face lit up. “I vote yes!”
“Oh me too,” Joe agreed. “I always want new people in my circle. Bring on the kyrie.”
“Joe,” Marcus began, “we aren’t vot—”
“But isn’t that why we’re here?” Simon interrupted. “It is, isn’t it?”
“Not to vote,” Jael began. “To understand what having a supernatural creature with us entails and how—”
“But if we vote, we could just leave,” Malic said bluntly. “Right?”
“Right,” Leith agreed.
“Okay, so I vote yes,” Simon announced, turning to look at Raphael. As he did, I noticed that the dark charcoal-gray eyes had warmed to quicksilver. “Raphael saved Malic and me, Leith, and a lot of other really nice people, and Jackson too.” He turned his head to look at me. “Didn’t he?”
“Yes, he did,” I told him.
“Well, then,” he said, like it was a done deal.
“So then why are we voting if he’s a good guy?” Julian was confused.
“I’ve been here five years,” Joe chimed in. “How these people do anything is beyond me.”
“Why are you voting, Jael?”
We all turned to look at Deidre, who did not look pleased at what was transpiring.
I noticed her hair, how dark brown it was, and the auburn highlights in it that caught the light. Her blue eyes were clear and deep, and the lashes that framed them were thick and long. I liked her face, the warmth in her eyes, and the resolute set of her jaw.
“A warder chooses his own hearth. The sentinel has no say,” she told him, and I was reminded then that she herself was a sentinel, which meant she had warders of her own to care for and protect and guide. “A warder earns the right to choose his or her own path.” Her brows furrowed thoughtfully. “You don’t try and choose mates for your charges, do you?”
He looked cornered.
She was suddenly wary, and I could tell it was a deal-breaker for her. “All warders have free will, Jael. You know that.”
“I—”
“Jael?” She looked very concerned, concerned like maybe he better say something really fast or she would be taking the next flight back to Edinburgh.
“Hold on,” he soothed her.
Blue eyes flashed. “It’s unheard of for a sentinel to ever—”
“No no no,” he told her, hands up, trying to settle her down, and all of us, the whole room, at the same time. “I merely, because he’s a kyrie, wanted us to all be on the same page going for—”
“A kyrie is just like a warder,” she told him. “One hunts and one protects. It’s practically the same thing.”
“But kyries are born in purgatory.”
“So was I. It’s just called Ferguslie Park.”
“Which is where?” Julian asked.
“In Scotland. That’s where she’s from.” I explained.
“How was I supposed to know that?” Julian squinted.
“Doesn’t Ryan tell you anything?”
He turned to look at Ryan, who in turn flipped me off.
“Who are we talking about?” Deidre snapped at Jael. “Which of your warders is taking up with a kyrie?”
“That’d be me.” I waved at her.
“Oh, well.” Her eyes slid over Raphael. “What’s the problem?”
Jael cleared his throat. “Jaka’s judgment has been in question lately. His old hearth was attacking demons—”
“Frank fought demons?” Joe scoffed. “With what? His calculator?”
“With the branding touch,” Leith informed him.
“We have superpowers too?” Dylan sounded excited. “Nobody told me. Malic, how come you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t,” Malic began. “You shouldn’t,” he growled, before his head swiveled to Leith. “You fuck!”
“Gentlemen!” Deidre yelled, but her smile crept in there. “Wow. Okay, Jael, the actions of Jaka’s former hearth can in no way be attributed to him, any more than one person leaving another causes the first one to jump off a bridge. Everyone is responsible for their own actions. If the warder chooses a hearth too unstable to understand the importance of being the omphalos, the center of their world, normally you can tell right away. It sounds like this Frank is in love with the idea of warding, not, and I’m sorry, Jaka, with the warder himself.”
“Exactly,” I told her.
“Well, then, the judgment to have loved the hearth initially is not faulty, simply, in hindsight, regrettable.”
“But I don’t regret it,” I told her. “How could I?”
“Because you learned something.” She smiled.
“Yes.”
“Oh I like her.” Joe grinned wide. “Can she stay, and Jael can go back to—where?”
“Scotland,” I told him.
“Yeah, Jael’s got the groovy name. He’d fit right in there.”
&nb
sp; “Joseph Alan Locke!” Marcus scolded him.
“What? I’m just saying.”
“You need a ball gag.”
“Don’t I have one already?”
“Kinky.” Julian chuckled, arching an eyebrow for his own boyfriend’s benefit.
I saw the muscles in Ryan’s jaw flex, heard the sharp exhale of breath. Julian had a very carnal effect on him, that was obvious.
“Quiet!” Jael barked out before sighing deeply. “My only concern was due to Jaka’s state of mind lately.”
“I’m fine,” I assured him.
“He’s fine,” Malic growled, shoving Dylan off him before the smaller man could get his hands up under the sweater he was wearing. Malic’s hearth tended to be all hands where his warder was concerned.
“He does look better,” Ryan agreed before squinting at me, “although the beard and the mustache have to go.”
“I think the beard’s hot.” Simon winked.
“Yeah, me too,” Dylan chorused.
“Come over here and lemme touch the beard, baby,” Joe called over to me.
I laughed because of the look on Marcus’s face.
“Really?” He scolded his mate.
Jael growled. “Kyries can become true demons, so I wanted everyone to be aware of—”
“But only the unclaimed ones,” Dylan said brightly, and his voice that always sounded good, husky and low, caught everyone’s attention. “Isn’t that right? That’s what Malic said. As long as the kyrie is claimed, then they never go—what’s the word?”
“Evil?” Simon offered.
“Oh-oh, rogue,” Joe said dramatically, drawing out the word.
“Demony?” Julian threw in.
“That’s not a word.” Dylan laughed.
“Why isn’t rogue good?” Joe sounded insulted.
“It’s good, love,” Marcus assured him.
“You’re patronizing me—patronizing the blind guy.”
Malic couldn’t stifle his snort of laughter. “You just called yourself the blind guy.”
“Why is that funny?”
It snowballed from there. Jael looked over at me, and I waggled my eyebrows.
“I guess I shouldn’t have worried,” Raphael said beside me.
I turned to look at him.
“It’s like a damn frat house around here. How do you people inspire any fear at all?”
