by J. L. Madore
The panic eased, replaced by something else, something primal and urgent. I wanted to continue, never stopping to eat or breathe or speak to another soul save his, but my survival instincts were back on-line. I slowed the kiss and gently pulled away from his lips. I blinked against the darkness and shook my head. "Um, image projections only work for a short time before they fade. We should keep moving."
"Very well," he whispered in a broken, jagged breath before he kissed the tip of my nose. "Expect to revisit this matter in short order."
I swallowed, turning back to the handle before he could see my reaction. His body brushed down my bare thigh as he picked up our belongings and I sighed.
When the door opened a crack, a sliver of light illuminated us. He looked flushed. "Focus Galan." I shot him a playful glare, but was just as breathless. "They'll likely have a Shifter or a Were to track our scents. Once they realize they're following decoys they'll be back."
"Fash not. I am well versed in obscuring scents for stealth."
"In a forest maybe," I snorted, "how are you in the streets of Toronto? We'll double back and stay somewhere safe for tonight." We eased up the corridor and merged into the congestion of the main section of the concourse.
"The night?" He repeated close to my ear. "Are we not returning to your Haven?"
"The other gatehouse is on one of the city's islands. It would be suicide to get stuck on a ferry with Scourge after us. We'll lay low tonight and head to the port in the morning."
Even with his disguise in place, Galan was drawing female attention. Oblivious to the appraising looks, Galan wiped his brow. "And in the meantime?"
"Up there." I pointed to the escalator climbing to the lobby of an office building above. If I remembered correctly, it connected to a hotel further along. When Galan paused, I held out my foot in an exaggerated example of where to step and pulled him along behind me. Smiling at Galan's uncharacteristic lack of coordination I placed his hand on the black, rubber rail and we rode the moving stairs to street level. "There are always taxis outside hotels."
There was a crowd mulling around inside the rotating doors, a sun shower holding them indoors. We jogged passed the fair-weather Mundies, into the rain and up the cab line to the front orange car. Soaked, we slid into the car. "Casa Loma, please."
Our driver nodded, staring at me in his mirror. "They're probably closed for the night."
"That's okay." I dried my hands, unzipped my phone from my backpack and scrolled through my contacts. They answered on the second ring. "Hey, it's Blaze. I've got a plus one. It's hot out here. Yep. Fifteen minutes. Thanks."
"Where are we going?" Galan's voice sounded off.
"To a Haven safe house." I leaned close to whisper and took in his pallor. His skin had drained to bone white and glistened. It wasn't rain. He was covered in a sheen of sweat. "Are you all right?" I brushed a piece of hair away from his face to look into his eyes. They were dilated and roaming. "Galan, wha—?"
I caught his head as it lolled to the side and he lost consciousness.
Fifteen minutes felt like two hours while we inched our way northward toward privacy. The rain picked up and was pounding on the windshield as the cabbie's watchful gaze bore holes in his rear-view. I fought the need to flip him the finger, rip open Galan's shirt and examine him.
The gate was open and Kobi, a friend of Bruin's and Talon enforcer, was our welcoming committee. Smoking under the overhang in the courtyard of Casa Loma, the guy was tall, dark and Goth. His features leaned toward being GQ pretty, but the black Kohl eyeliner and the multitude of silver piercings said otherwise.
As we pulled to a stop, Kobi snuffed his smoke on the sole of his shitkicker and jogged out to meet us. "Hey," he said, opening the door. "What have—" He cursed at the sight of Galan slumped and unconscious in my lap. By the time I'd tipped the cabbie, Kobi had him slung over his shoulder and heading into the servant's entrance of the castle.
"Making friend's in the big city, eh?" Kobi flopped Galan down on the harvest table in the kitchen. "How hot are you? Is his pretty face going to be the lead story on TMZ tonight?"
"Originally half a dozen came at us, maybe more. And no I don't think there's been exposure." I yanked Galan's shirt up so I could feel the energy of his organs. "Galan killed one and I think we lost the others in the Concourse."
"He killed one?" Kobi eyes glowed scarlet. "In the city?"
I relayed the events of our attack, starting with getting separated from Reign through to Galan passing out in the cab. "Gods, he's on fire. His heart is pumping way too fast."
"Venom?"
"Has to be to be for it to be acting this fast. Shit." I focused my gift, working as fast as I could to slow the avalanche of decay overwhelming all of Galan's organs and systems. Heart, lungs, blood . . . all of it was compromised.
As the convulsions started, I prayed I wasn't already too late.
CHAPTER TWENTY
"Lia!" Galan jacked halfway off the mattress, knocked the side table and sent my glass of wine toppling to the hardwood. Long, graceful fingers clutched through empty air until the shattering of crystal fractured his illusion. He hissed, clutched his side and collapsed back onto the bed.
"Shh . . . Galan, it was a dream." Lifting his head, I slid a pillow beneath his matted hair and retrieved the damp facecloth from the basin on the bedside table. His gaze skittered around the room before his attention settled back to me.
"Lia." he mumbled. Restless legs stirred beneath the damp sheet as I sponged back the hair stuck to his neck.
"It was a dream. I'm sorry." Palming the smooth rise of his chest with my free hand, I used my gift to ease his panic. His eyes followed my voice and then surveyed the room.
Straight out of the turn of the century, the bed, a huge four-poster draped in a brocade canopy, was flanked by bedside tables and matching bouquets of white peonies. An oversized desk sat against the mahogany paneled wall and in the corner, our clothes lay drying over two mohair slipper chairs which faced the marble hearth of a large fireplace.
Galan's focus shifted to where I was touching him. "Jade?" He winced, struggling to straighten. "Jade . . . I, uh—"
As his eyes rolled back, I stroked his hair, coaxing the silver mess off his heated skin. "Shh, Galan, rest. We're safe for now."
Sometime in the middle of the night Galan started coming around. There had been false alarms throughout the day when I thought he might wake up, but between the venom, his grief and the stress of what had happened with the Queens, his body had decided to take a detour into coma-town for a while.
Uncharacteristically, I wasn't in much better shape. After tightening the lapels of my terry robe, I dried my cheeks with the cuff of my sleeve. "Are you really awake this time?" I turned the bedside lamp on to its dimmest setting and propped up on my elbow to look him over. There was a jolting noise downstairs and I stilled as hundreds of chandelier prisms jingled like wind chimes, tinkling their song above us.
Galan's eyes widened. "Where are we?"
"We're at a Haven safe house."
A crease appeared between his brows. "Still in the Modern Realm?"
"For a bit longer. When you're well, we'll go back." I reached into the long rectangular pocket of my robe and brought out the crumpled parchment the Queens had given Galan. "I've been thinking. I know someone who might be able to decipher the prophesy."
Galan didn't move, didn't even blink. "Who might that be?"
"Chiron of Delaran, a famous Centaur scholar. If anyone can figure out what this poem says it will be him."
Galan took possession of the missive and scanned the flourishing script. "Will he help us? I have no valuables to barter nor coin to pay him with."
I shook my head. "We won't need it. Chiron was my private tutor for fifteen years at the Academy. He was the one who taught me how to use my bard powers. He knows more about poetry and the written word of our realm than anyone else I know."
"And he will be able to read this?"
/> I shrugged. "If it's written in one of the lost languages of this realm, or one of the other realms, he'll know it or know who to go to next."
"Good." Galan folded it carefully along its creases and gave it back to me. "And have the Talon come up with anything on the whereabouts of my sister thus far?"
I shrugged. "Not as far as I know. We'll find out as soon as we can get through the Portal Mirror. Rest tonight and tomorrow we'll know more."
"Can we not Flash to this gatehouse now and avoid the delay?"
I shook my head and raised my hand in a sweeping gesture. "No. This is a safe house hidden within a strong glamour. We can't Flash through it. We have to wait until you're well enough to travel."
Galan pushed against his elbows and attempted to straighten. It looked for a moment like he was going to insist he was well enough now, but he sagged back to his pillow. A rush of hostility heated my insides. The Scourge had been so close to taking his life I could scream.
Galan's eyes closed as his hand rubbed at his forehead. "What happened?"
"The dagger from the street attack grazed you as you pushed us clear. It was tipped with venom. You collapsed in the cab."
He nodded and examined the faint pink scar on his palm. "I thought it only a scratch when there was no blood."
"Only a scratch?" I shook my head. "That scratch almost killed you and I didn't even know you were hurt. There was no blood because Scourge venom cauterizes the wound so the poison can attack your internal systems." Was that shrill tirade coming from me? I flopped back down on the bed and brushed my cheeks with my fingers. "You scared me to death. This isn't your valley, Galan. If you're hurt during battle you have to let me know."
Securing my wrist, he brought my hand to his lips. "Apologies. I was unfamiliar with the protocol of such an event. However, I now stand fully enlightened and properly lashed for my error." He was making fun of me. When I refused to smile, he tugged me closer, tucking me against his chest. His gaze softened. "I regret you were frightened, Blossom, truly, yet I survived. You handled everything, as always."
His apology was so eloquent it pissed me off. I glared at him which triggered a twitch at the corners of his mouth.
"Don't flatter me, Highborne. I'm mad at you."
He dipped his head and kissed the top of my head. It didn't fool me. I knew he was fighting a smile. When I sighed and gave in to his sultry comfort, he flipped the quilt over both of us and cocooned us tight in the blankets. Soft strokes of his finger raked through my hair and had my eyes drifting closed.
"So, tell me what went on after I lost consciousness. Did those men return?"
"No. We lost them. They'll definitely be tracking us but we should be good until we leave here tomorrow. When Kobi realized it was me coming in, he called in some extra enforcers. We're locked down tight."
Galan stretched and sank deeper into the mattress. "Then, for this night, neelan, you rest and I shall watch over you." Galan kissed my forehead and hummed while I reined in my nerves.
Huh, a night on the receiving end of the TLC.
"I find I have no recollections beyond entering that orange vehicle."
"You passed out cold in the back seat. I told the driver you were drunk." I shrugged at his disbelieving grin.
"It would take an incredible effort for a Highborne to become intoxicated to the point of unconsciousness."
"Good to know. I'm scratching off drinking games with you and your family."
He fingered my hair behind my ear, his chest rumbling against me as he laughed. "Does Reign know you are well?"
I nodded. "I spoke to him yesterday and told him you needed time to recoup."
"Then we'll be heading back to the castle in the morning?"
I shook my head. "No. I think we should focus on the prophesy and let my father and his men work on locating Lia."
"And what do you think the prophesy will tell us?"
I shrugged. "No idea, but several things are bugging me." I lifted my fingers and began counting off my points. "How did the Scourge know where to find us? Why would they risk breaking Fae laws and attack us right in the middle of a human city? Why would— Whoa! " The room rattled as another bang came from downstairs.
"Is it an attack?" Galan asked, trying to sit up.
"No." I pushed him back down and propped up on my elbow. "There's a prisoner in the dungeon that is quite determined to break his confinement. He's being transferred in a few hours when the Mundies in the neighbourhood have all gone to bed."
When the tinkling of the chandelier died down Galan brushed his cheek against mine and breathed deep. "Did you tend to your needs as well? Did you eat and rest after healing me?"
"Mhmm . . . I pulled a blanket over us and we had a long nap."
He kissed along my collarbone as he whispered soft and serious. "You carry too much weight in your basket, Blossom. You are not invincible."
The room bounced and jingled again and he tightened his arms around me.
"I thought you said I was an unstoppable force of nature?"
"Without a doubt. Still, we must not tempt the Fates." His lips lingered in the hollow of my throat. "I wonder how upset Samuel is about us being stranded together."
I tried to ignore the male amusement in his tone. "It doesn't matter. Samuel and I were done before you came along. I'm not even sure what his issue is."
Galan shifted to look at me, staring into the depths of what I was sure were bleary, puffy eyes. After a time he raised one arm behind his head and fell back to stare at the ceiling. Light from the sconces passed through the prisms of the chandelier and danced in dappled whimsy on the ceiling above. "Why do you suppose all of this occurred?"
He reminded me of a carved statue, staring off beyond the boundaries of our room. His skin was soft as the still summer night, his body chiseled in perfect proportions. A part of him, and I had no idea how large a part, was born of the gods of the Fae. Huh. Maybe that's why he could access the spellbook in the cave. What else would it mean?
"Why did I leave her?" he whispered. "Why, of all the Elves in my village did the Fates single out Lia and me to live this life of turmoil?"
I had no answer, other than, 'That's what the Fates do'. "It wasn't all bad." I said, fighting back a smile. "The Queens were quite taken with you."
The bed shook with Galan's laughter. "The Queens. That was outlandish."
"Um . . . Galan, you did realize—"
"They are males?" His smile shone in the candlelight. "Yes, I gathered that early on. I assumed it was merely one of those modern details I am not accustomed to, the dressing as a female part, the sexual component of it I understand."
I hadn't really thought about all the jokes before. "Are there really a lot of gay Elves?" I explained what I meant by that and he shrugged.
"I cannot speak for all Elves. Highbornes, however, are a passionate race. Mayhap we differ from humans in the way we look at things. Sexual pleasure and love are two different plains of reality. We enjoy one another based on attraction, mutual affection or just a biological urge to satisfy. Male, female, two, three, four . . . it matters not. We care for the soul of a person, not their gender."
I'm not sure what my expression betrayed, but he chuckled and leaned closer.
"Love, however, is an altogether different matter. Highbornes mate for life, so the intimacy of coitus is preserved solely for those bound for life. There are no partings in our community. Mating is an eternal, unbreakable bond."
My mind sorted through the implications of that. "So, you're saying that although you've had a century to mess around, you're technically a hundred-and-ten-year-old-virgin?"
He chuckled. "Yes, in the sense that I have never consummated with a female, yet it is quite a bit more complex. It takes years to understand the governances which dictate when and with whom we can be intimate. We only become eligible to take part in sexual activity after our sixtieth year."
"Then you can pair up with whoever is single?"
&nbs
p; "Not necessarily. The pairing could be with those single or mated."
"You said Highbornes didn't. . . If you're mated, you're bound to your mate."
"Yes and no. Like I said, it is complex. We only have intercourse with our mates, but mated females often take consorts to—add to their relationship." Galan absorbed my astonishment and chuckled again. "Highbornes live a thousand years or more, Blossom. If we mate in the first or second century, it is an incredibly long time to be with one person."
"You said that mated females take consorts? What about the males?" I shook the night's exhaustion away, finding this absolutely fascinating.
"Ours is a matriarchy. Females are the cherished members and males focus their time and efforts protecting, providing and pleasing."
Oh, Lexi is sooo going to love this.
I nibbled my lip and imagined this in action. "So, have you been a consort to many women?" Galan said nothing, though I waited for a long time. When he didn't meet my gaze, I leaned forward. "That bad, is it?"
Galan shifted under the sheets and exhaled. Kissing my cheek, he put his lips to my ear. "I wish it would not matter. I am eight and a half decades your senior, love. I cannot truthfully say I have locked myself away."
It was hard to concentrate on my agitation while he ran his lips down the side of my neck. My stomach flipped as I imagined countless Elven beauties writhing under his caress, all of them slender and blonde and graceful. All the things I was so obviously not.
"Aside from raising Lia and my camaraderie with Tham and Nyssa, being a consort was my only pleasurable outlet. It is considered an honor to be requested by females."
I locked onto his gaze, ready to read his reaction. "And are you honored, often?"
"I would consider myself popular, yes."
Enough said. I never expected Galan to be a virgin, but didn't like the direction this conversation had taken. He had so much more experience than I. Maybe that explained why he hadn't been fazed by the Queens. I pushed back at the wave of self-consciousness that washed over me. Thinking about it, I couldn't imagine being with Galan and wanting Tham or Aust or any combination of them sexing me up for an evening, but there you go. I wasn't an Elf.
