by Autumn Dawn
"Are you all right?” Carri wanted to know.
"Allergies,” Rain said grimly, resigned to the inevitable. “I hate taking my medicine.” Funny, though. She hadn't sneezed around DJ, and she'd been around him long enough for his fur to affect her.
"What's an allergy? Is it catching?"
Rain rolled her eyes at the questions and hobbled faster. She couldn't wait to unload this bunch.
Once in the suite she shared with Fallon, the kids were fascinated by the pile of odds and ends on a corner table. They especially liked the simple version of a Gauss Rifle, a grooved wooden board with four nickel plated, neodymium-iron-boron magnets taped to it.
"Cool! What is it?” Carri asked.
"It's a linear acceleration device for studying high-energy physics."
They were silent for a moment. Then Malix piped up, “Can I play with it?"
She snorted with amusement. “Sure. Bring it out to the garden. Carri and Twix, you bring the little table there.” She didn't think Fallon would care if they used the marble topped end table. She was fairly certain it was an antique, but it wasn't like they were going to damage it.
She handed a pouch of nickel plated steel balls to DJ and followed the kids out to the garden. She'd set up a board for a target earlier, but hadn't used it yet. Once the rifle was set up, she explained its use. “Okay, we point the rifle at our target, then put two steel balls against each magnet, right in the groove. Good. Now we put a ball in the groove and give it a little nudge and.... “The kids cheered as the marble struck the magnet, causing a chain reaction that sent the end marble shooting off the end, striking the board with a satisfying, “whack!"
"Okay, now you try. Youngest to oldest.” Carrie started out, then Malix, DJ and Twix. They played for a whole fifteen minutes before the game began to wane.
Rain found herself amused to be playing with four little kids. She'd never enjoyed something like that before. Maybe she was changing.—scary thought!
When she finally told the kids it was time for them to go home, they protested a little, but not too badly.
"Can we come back tomorrow?” Malix pleaded.
She considered, then shrugged. “I guess. As long as your parents know where you are. Now run along, and don't beat up on each other,” she said with a stern look for Carri.
"As long as he doesn't tease me,” she said pertly, then escaped before she could be reprimanded.
DJ was slow to leave. He didn't seem to want to abandon the Gauss rifle.
Rain eyed him. “You know, it's easy to build your own. Ask your mom and dad if it's okay. I'll give you a parts list if you like."
It was the first time she'd seen a werewolf smile. Unfortunately, it wasn't a pretty sight, even on a kid. She made quick work of the list, then sent him on his way.
* * * *
Fallon slipped the kids each a bag of candy as they passed him in the hall. He'd been eavesdropping, and couldn't have been more pleased with how their little skit had played out. Rain was softening.
For a woman who claimed to have little interest in children, she had a tender heart. He was devious enough to keep that card in play.
Feeling happy, he hummed a tune as he left her alone to dwell on the experience.
Fallon found her in the garden later, finishing up her nap. “I heard we had visitors."
She grunted and sat up. Smothering a yawn, she informed him, “I found this little redhead beating up on a boy. I took pity on him."
"Hmm. I heard about it second hand from Malix.” He sat down and began massaging her foot, the one attached to the good leg. “He says you're pretty cool."
"Huh.” What he was doing felt pretty good.
He kissed the top of her foot. “His brother gave their parents the part's list. He can't wait to make his own ... guess rifle was it?"
"Gauss. Wait. You mean DJ and Malix are brothers?"
"Yes. DJ is the older. His dad's proud of him for not hitting a girl back, but he promised to give him pointers about making her stop without hurting her. He also told him to stop teasing girls."
"Who's his father?"
"My cousin Keilor.” He snuggled up behind her on the wide wooden lawn chair. It was a tight fit, but not claustrophobic. When he snuggled his hand low on her belly, she lost the desire complain.
Clearing her throat, she said, “Oh. So they're related to you ... sort of."
"Second cousins. They're related to you, too, through marriage. Nice of you to be kind to them.” His hand slid a fraction lower.
"Wasn't hard,” she said off-hand, distracted.
"Still.” His finger began tracing little circles just inside her waistband.
Losing track of the conversation was inevitable, but she gave it a valiant effort. “Kids are okay, as long as they belong to someone else."
His lips feathered over the back of her neck and shoulder, making her melt. “Yes.” His hand slid lower, tangling in the curls between her thighs. “If we had kids here now, I couldn't do this.” His finger started a slow circle that eased a wordless sigh from her lips. A moment later, he began to lower her pants. Still on her side, she protested, “We can't! My knee."
He chuckled. “I see I need to work harder on your education. Can you think of a position that won't put pressure on it?” To illustrate, he circled an arm around her waist and pulled her bare butt against his front.
"Ah.... “she croaked. He was fast taking care of any reluctance she might have felt.
"Mmm-hmm. I'm afraid you're still over dressed for such a warm day, though.” He reached up and popped the clasp on her harem style top. He played his hand around her breasts, inhaling like a man deeply satisfied with life. “Ah, yes. As sweet and tender as I remembered.” He squeezed a nipple, surprising a squeal out of her. She shifted under his hands and he admonished her. “Uh-huh. We have to be careful of that knee."
The last thing on her mind was her knee as he took his time playing with her silky breasts, gliding his hand over her stomach. She was whimpering by the time he sat up and pulled off his vest, then opened the laces on the front of his pants. He guided himself to her slick opening from behind. “Open up, sweetheart. The doctor wants in."
She still hadn't gotten used to how big he was. Completely vulnerable, she panted as he eased inside, filling her with delicious hardness. No wonder she hadn't missed the Bell's seductive song—Fallon could make a sultana forget her harem.
He was slow but thorough—the man must have been born with self-control. He took his time to tease her, driving her past what she could bear, then easing her down. Nearly insane with desire, she pleaded and begged until he gave in and finished her off. By that time she wouldn't have known she had a knee, much less cared if it ached.
It was sometime later—after dinner, dessert and more of Fallon, in fact—that she realized that Haunt weren't so different, after all. It couldn't have been more obvious that her lover was proud of his heritage, and look how wonderful he was. She wasn't ready to see it, but she didn't think she'd freak if she saw Fallon change now. She'd try not to, at least, because she wasn't a coward. The day would surely come when it would happen, and she figured she could work up to it. Maybe she'd even practice with Kial, watching him change and stuff until the thought of being close to a Haunt didn't put her in a cold sweat. Even hanging with DJ had to be a help.
What she had with Fallon was worth preserving.
One matter was left undone, however. The man who'd started her terrors was still alive. As long as he was out there, she'd never feel safe. The man was like a sword dangling by a silk thread, poised over her head whether she ate, dreamed or loved.
Azion had to die.
She'd tried to let go, to live and let live for Fallon's sake, had even managed a measure of resignation. Only now did she see clearly that there would be no peace until Azion had been dealt with. It wasn't like he was going to repent and behave. He'd started the war. She needed to finish it before he finished her.
* * * *
Rain sat in her suite late the next afternoon. Brooding, she lifted her newly constructed short-range Bell and considered it. This model looked like a large ball bearing, etched with a few engravings. It chimed, but she'd modified it to avoid the seductive song. They didn't need to pass on that little trait.
Losing her original wasn't as bad as she'd dreaded. She didn't miss her own Bell's song, having realized that Fallon could give her so much more than it ever could. It had been a beautiful creation, though, and special, and she missed it a little for that. This Bell, though, was going to serve a higher—or lower, if she preferred—purpose. Rykarr had called it the ultimate assassin's toy. It hadn't taken much thought to realize he'd been right.
Rain keyed the Bell and opened a portal to Azion's private rooms. Happily, he was alone at his desk, his back to her.
Allowing him a fighting chance, she said coolly, “You look a lot different when you're not covered in fuzz, Graybeard."
He spun around so fast, he nearly fell out of his seat. “Rain! What the—
"he apparently realized he was better off with his mouth shut.
She half smiled. “Hello, Azion. I thought I'd show you what you wanted so badly. What do you think?” She rolled the Bell between her palms, walked it through her fingers like a Chinese exercise ball. “Nifty little toy, isn't it?"
Azion stood up and moved closer to the portal. “How are you doing this?” he looked around her room before his gaze settled on her hands. “Is that the device that makes this projection?"
She couldn't help a smirk. “No projection, old man. See for yourself."
He hesitated. “Why are you doing this?"
She raised a brow, playing it cool. Inside, she burned. “Let's not waste our breath."
He considered her for a long moment. “It was necessary, you know."
Her answering smile was cold, sharp edged. She played the Bell through her fingers, making it sparkle in the light.
The lure of the Bell must have been too much. Azion gave her room one more penetrating look, then reached out to touch the portal.
Rain closed her eyes against the flash. When she opened them, all that remained of him was a pile of rust colored dust. Her hand clenched on the Bell, closing the connection.
Her room was neat, empty. There was no way to trace Azion's death to her.
She felt a little sick. She'd let the man reach out to his own destiny, but knowing he was dead wasn't the sweet relief she'd hoped for. Knowing she'd had a part in it ... abruptly she got up and left the room.
* * * *
Fallon was in Jayems’ study, examining a printout of Azion's rooms. He'd been there most of the morning with Jayems and Keilor, trying to find a workable assassination plan. “The man has more safeguards in place than the whole palace put together,” he finally muttered, straightening. “You'd think he was king."
"Or planned to be,” Keilor said, with a glance at Jayems.
Jayems wasn't saying much. Though physically in the room, his mind was on his little girl and only heir, who was slowly recovering from a nasty bout of poisoning. It had been a close call. If her mother hadn't figured it out, if they hadn't given her charcoal and pumped her stomach as fast as they had ... if the medics hadn't been the best.
Fallon's fist curled. He wanted Azion dead. Knowing the man would like to return the favor, especially to Fallon's wife, made his blood burn.
"Your eyes are glowing again, Fallon. Calm down. Cool heads will solve this better,” Keilor cautioned. A battle veteran who was far older than he looked, the man knew what he was talking about.
"It's easier when it's not family,” Fallon said grimly.
"I hear you. You should be grateful your woman turned her problems over to you and Jayems. I have nightmares thinking of the trouble Jasmine might get into in the same situation. You're a lucky man."
"Believe me, I get down on my knees and give my share of thanks,” Fallon said fervently, relieved again that Rain wasn't involving herself. That had to be hard, and he was so thankful. He couldn't stand the idea of her in danger.
Keilor's com unit vibrated, and he answered it. For long moments he said nothing, just listened. “Okay, I'll be there in a moment. Standby.” He looked at his closed com for a long moment, then looked at Fallon with wide-eyed sympathy. “You and Jayems had better come, too."
Dread pooled in Fallon's stomach as he followed Keilor, but he somehow kept his mouth shut. Whatever was going on, he knew Keilor would show him soon enough.
To his surprise, Keilor led the way to Azion's rooms. The door was shut and the guards before it looked agitated. Azion's large, heavyset aid, Dorron, fidgeted before the door. When he saw them, his face lit with an odd mix of chagrin, relief and caution. “My lords! I didn't know what to think. The guards didn't see or hear anything, and there is no scent of anyone strange in the room. The elder had been in there alone all morning. No one but us has been in since we discovered ... it.” He trailed off, strained.
Fallon exchanged looks with Jayems.
Keilor asked calmly, “Who else have you notified?"
"No one! I didn't want to say anything until someone else had confirmed what we thought. Come in and see for yourself.” Dorron opened the door and ushered them in, led them through a room of severely plain furnishings made of the most expensive materials. Behind the massive desk, he stopped and stared at a small heap of orange dust. It looked like someone had dumped a bucket of dirt out on the carpet.
Keilor knelt and studied the dust.
Dorron swallowed. “I'm afraid ... I think this might be Azion's remains."
Fallon's brows shot up as he knelt beside his cousin. “How?"
"I'm not sure, but you can see Azion is not here, and this is."
The men exchanged looks. It couldn't be this easy. “I know of nothing that can do this to a body. We don't have any weapons capable of this.” Even as he said it, Fallon's brows drew together. He remembered Rain's genius, her inventions. If anyone had motive....
Keilor stood up and looked around, studied the room. After a moment, he changed and wandered around. Baffled, he changed back. “Could he have wanted to disappear for a while? Could this be an effort to do that?"
"Impossible,” Dorron said coldly. “He had plans. He wouldn't just leave, especially not right now."
"Really?” Keilor drawled, looking the man over.
Jayems spoke for the first time. “I want tests run on those remains, and I want this room ripped apart. I want to know the truth, Keilor.” His voice was strained, but a thread of relief crept through. “Do whatever you have to, but get answers."
Keilor nodded and ordered a forensic team over his com unit.
It was half an hour later, with the team hard at work in Azion's room, until they were able to return to Jayems’ room to talk. Fallon was ready to explode with frustration, desperate to find Rain and shake the story from her. After that he'd just shake her. What was she doing? She could've been killed!
Keilor practically drug him into the study. “Wait! Your Haunt are with her and apprised of the situation. Azion's supporters are still too baffled to act, and they don't know what we know."
"If she did this, I'll give her a crown for it,” Jayems said fervently. He was pacing in a fever of anticipation. His personal nightmare was closing.
Fallon's was just beginning. “What if she'd gotten hurt! He wouldn't have hesitated to kill her.” Pacing on the opposite side of the rug from Jayems, he was yelling and didn't care.
Jayems shot him a look. “Mind the child,” he snapped. “She needs her rest."
"Sorry. Still, when I think—” Fallon clamped his mouth shut. He felt like a bat in a cage, desperate to beat his way out with his wings. He wanted his wife! Wanted to punish her, shout at her, make sure she was okay.
Keilor got in his way and clamped his hands on his shoulders. “Stop! Breathe. Stop thinking like a husband for a moment. This is larger than that. If she'd been a trained soldier, you'd be offer
ing her the moons."
"She's not!"
"Fine, but she did us a service just the same. Don't punish her for that. Have you considered that she might be hurting? Killing is never easy. For all you know, she's afraid of what we'll do if we find out."
"We won't do anything! Well, I might spank her blue, but—"
Keilor actually shook him, then smoothly dodged Fallon's thank-you punch. “Fine, now that you've got your aggression out, you'd better plan what you're really going to say to her,” he snapped, then his face softened. “I'm trying to help you, brother."
Fallon dragged in a shuddering breath. Somebody had better help him, because it was going to kill him to do what he had to do.
* * * *
DJ and Malix found her brooding by a fishpond. Among other things, her knee ached.
She couldn't stand to be alone, but wanted to avoid conversation, so she'd chosen to sit by the deserted pond on the edge of the park. For once she'd been glad of the silent company of her guards. As a plus, they even scared off the casual passersby—or maybe it was her expression that did that.
She shouldn't have been surprised to see the kids—they seemed to get around. What did surprise her was DJ. “Hey, kid. Where's your fuzz?"
DJ blinked his dark eyes at her. Black haired, with long, thick lashes, he was destined to break hearts one day. “I didn't want to scare you."
She snorted in amusement and tossed another mangled piece of grass on the ground. “Wouldn't worry about it, buddy. I'm at least as scary as anything running around these woods today."
The boys sat on either side of her. “You're sad?” Malix asked, looking at her face.
She sighed. “Just having one of those moments all mad scientists have."
"You're not mad,” a deep voice said, surprising her into looking around. A dark haired man about twenty years DJ's senior stood right behind her shoulder. Handsome in a rugged way, he was looking at her with penetrating sable eyes.
"You must be the father,” she said dryly. “DJ couldn't look more like you if he tried."
He shrugged. “Malix takes after his mother. She likes to gloat about it, but DJ and I don't mind. I'm Keilor, your cousin-by-marriage."
