“You’re angry at me, aren’t you?” Mychal said after she still hadn’t said anything. Aleksandra struggled to find something to say. She had almost been murdered by a demon. She had been rescued by the man she was sure was on the other side of the world. Now he was sponging down her scraped up back. Words had failed her.
“You have a right to be angry with me. I deserve it,” Mychal continued, his voice getting a touch of bitterness in it. “I should never have left you unprotected. I thought that if I left you alone, then maybe they would too. I was wrong, as always. And the way I left was wrong. I was…a jerk.”
“You were a jerk,” she said and gave him a little smile. “Why did you come back?”
“I realised that I missed having you around to annoy.”
“You are such a boy.”
“How observant of you,” he said dryly. “I got used to the noise of everyone else too.”
“Does that mean you’re actually going to try to be social?”
“Do I have to?”
“You came back because you missed us. Maybe that answers your own question. How did you get here so soon?”
“I arrived back in Budapest the day after you had left and arrived in New Orleans about two hours ago. I knew that Isabelle’s friend Harley had a shop so I went there first to ask her where you were staying. When I got there, I saw you getting pulled into an alley way and you know the rest.”
“Did the others see you?”
“No, they were still out the back. Do you really think they would have let me go to find you?”
“God no. You would’ve been crowded with questions, like you will be when Anya comes in.”
“I saw her drinking heavily with a skinny girl with dark hair. I don’t think she will be here tonight.”
“Oh.” Aleksandra had been hoping that Anya would turn up soon and break the awkwardness, but no chance of that happening now. She was alone. With Mychal. Again. As if sensing her unease, he zipped the back of her dress up.
“You will be sore for a few days. At least it won’t be infected,” Mychal said as she sat up. Her throat was aching and was crushed where the demon had grabbed her. She rubbed it lightly while she focused her gaze on the silver rosary that shone against Mychal’s black tee shirt.
“Does your throat hurt?” he asked.
“It’s a bit sore. I will deal with it.” He pushed her hands out of the way impatiently and tipped her head back.
“It’s already bruised so try not to rub it too much,” he said as he touched it lightly. “Why won’t you look at me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said dismissively.
“Yes, you do. Your pulse accelerated,” he shifted his fingers along her neck, “See? It did it again.”
“Stop touching me then!” she shouted. Mychal jerked his hand away in surprise and then started laughing. It was a good laugh, loud and full of joy. It definitely was not that kind of laugh she expected him to have. It lit him up from deep down. It was pure. His eyes shone for a moment like an animal’s eyes at night. Aleksandra stared as the shining eyes slipped back and it was Mychal again.
“What are you?” she whispered. Mychal stopped laughing.
“I have no idea,” he said helplessly, “I really don’t.”
“It doesn’t matter. I missed you,” Aleksandra moved off the table and onto her feet.
“Surely not.”
“It was too quiet. Then the demon turned up.”
“True.”
“Thank you for saving me.” Aleksandra stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Mychal hesitated a moment before he awkwardly wrapped his long arms around her. Aleksandra couldn’t believe it.
“Why does your pulse quicken when I touch you?” he asked. “Are you afraid of me?”
“Sometimes,” she admitted. Her face was pressed against the softness of his shirt and the hard muscles underneath. “Mostly, I’m afraid you’ll disappear as soon as I get used to the sight of you.”
“I’m not going anywhere. The demons want you too badly and I want to know why. I owe you a blood debt.”
“No you don’t. You repaid that tonight.”
“So I did. Maybe I like being around you because…well, I don’t really know why. I only know that I do.”
***
Not very far away on Bourbon Street, Anya was dancing. She hadn’t danced since she was six years old and she strongly suspected the interesting drinks with brightly coloured umbrellas were to blame. It was their third bar and Fox showed no signs of slowing down. The jazz band was loud in the darkly lit bar and Anya started to drink her fourth violently colourful drink of the hour. Fox came over to her and started shouting something.
“What?!” Anya shouted back at her. Fox gave her an impatient look before she leaned close to her ear.
“Why did you stop dancing?”
“I got thirsty!” Fox made some wild gestures before she gave up, took Anya’s hand and dragged her back out onto the dance floor. Anya laughed like a mad thing as Fox spun her around. She was having the most fun she had had in years.
Anya danced all the darkness out of her head. Eikki’s death, Tuoni’s intervention, Vasilli hunting her and everything else up to Trajan breaking her heart. She was dizzy with the joy that comes from finally letting go. This is what it feels like to be normal, she thought. Then she spotted him.
He was taller than anyone in the room was. As she spun around again, she saw his long black hair, braided and woven in a way that was distinctive even in the dim light. His green eyes pierced through the crowd and stared her down.
Anya felt panic rise up from deep inside of her. It was then she realised how completely drunk and helpless she was. Her magic reached out through the oblivious dancers and whipped around him. She felt his own magic respond. Strong, dark and slightly feral. Her power fluttered, intoxicated by the taste.
Anya dragged Fox away from the guy she was dancing with. “Hey, what gives?” she complained.
“We need to go,” Anya said urgently. She glanced over her shoulder. The tall stranger had disappeared. That did nothing to help her uneasiness.
“What’s wrong?” Fox asked, her eyes already scanning for the threat.
“I will explain later. We need to get out of here now.”
“Fine, we will get a cab and go back to my place.”
“No, we need to go somewhere really safe. The hotel maybe or back to Harley’s…”
“Mama Lya’s is the safest place I know. The others might not even be back from Harley’s yet.”
“If she isn’t there how could it be safe?” Anya shouted as they dodged their way through the kitchens, searching for a back door.
“Mama Lya’s home has more protecting it than her.” Anya checked outside the back door before she rushed into the street. The alcohol was still thick in her veins, making the irrational part of her paranoid. Her power was bubbling and she was so drunk that she was frightened she couldn’t control it. They ran as fast as they could to where the taxis waited. Anya risked a glance over her shoulder and spotted the dark man standing on a nearby roof looking down on them, green eyes glowing.
“Oh no, oh no,” she muttered. Fox opened the taxi door and jumped in as Anya dove in behind her. Fox gave the driver Mama’s address.
“What’s going on, Anya?” Fox demanded as the taxi pulled away from the curb.
“Look out the back window,” Anya instructed. “Can you see a tall man with long black hair?”
“No, some drunk girls.” Anya risked a look. He was standing on the curb, not metres from where they had been.
“He’s right there!” Anya pointed. The tall Álfr saw her and smiled. It was not warm or friendly. Anya’s fingers burnt with the effort not to release her power. Fox tried to see what she was looking at and soon gave up.
“I don’t think I’m going to let you drink rum ever again,” Fox said as she looked at her.
“I’m not crazy! Jesus Christ, you must be
blind! He’s just…” He had gone. Anya slumped forward and put her head in her hands. Fox placed a cool hand on Anya’s neck and gave it a little rub.
“What was it? Who was it?”
“An Álfr,” Anya whispered so the driver couldn’t hear. “I am in deep shit.”
“We will talk as soon as we get to Mama’s. Try to relax.” It seemed like a long time before the car started to slow down.
“This is it,” said Fox. Anya looked up. The man was standing in front of the house. In the streetlight, she saw that he was dressed like a warrior. He wore a dark green tunic that reached above his knees and a black leather chest plate pressed with intricate silver designs. Black trousers ran into black knee-high boots and leather vembraces encased his forearms. There was a glimpse of a sword on his back. Anya felt terror shoot through her.
“Oh, my god! Don’t stop, driver!” Anya shouted. The Álfr gave her a little sarcastic smile and Anya felt his magic wash over her like a warm, dark wave. “Shit, Fox, he is right there.”
“I can’t see him!” Fox panicked. “We will go to the hotel. Aramis will know how to deal with this.”
“He should,” Anya said as they sped off again. “I think it’s his brother.”
When they got to the hotel, they paid the confused cabbie and after a brief look around, they hurried into the foyer. Anya had made note of which room Aramis had taken and she headed straight for it. Fox was looking jittery. Anya took charge and banged on the door. There was no answer.
“Maybe he isn’t back yet,” said Fox. Anya sent her power searching through the door. She soon felt the familiar tingle of Aramis’s power touching hers.
“He’s in there,” Anya focused on the door and it opened.
“That is a little unnerving.”
“I don’t have time to be polite.” Anya walked into the dark room and tried to force her eyes to adjust. “Aramis?” She opened the bedroom door and stuck her head in. Aramis was sleeping on the top of the red and gold covers, as naked and as perfect as marble, his hair a tumble of silver against his pillow.
“Oh, do you have to wake him?” Fox whispered as her eyes went wide with approval.
“Unfortunately yes,” said Anya. They stood and watched him sleep for a few moments until Anya’s mouth went horribly dry. “Aramis?” The Álfr stretched, a long languid move like a well fed cat and he opened his eyes.
“Anya?” he asked sleepily.
“Hey, wake up,” she said gently, trying hard not to scare him. “We’ve got problems.”
“Don’t I know it,” Aramis smiled lazily. Anya had the sudden drunken desire to kiss him and damn the consequences.
“I’m serious, wake up,” she said a little more sternly, “and cover up, will you? It’s kind of distracting.” Aramis was suddenly very awake very quickly. He spread the sheet over himself.
“Aww, you’re such a party pooper,” Fox complained as she switched on a lamp.
“Miss Fox! I didn’t see you there.”
“That’s okay, Aramis, I saw you. All of you.” She gave him such a look that Aramis flushed pink all over and Anya had to stifle a giggle.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re barging in at this hour?” he asked trying to regain some of his composure.
“I’m here to talk to you about Søren,” Anya said sweetly as she made herself comfortable on the end of his bed. Aramis had enough sense to look nervous.
“And why would you want to know about Søren?”
“Because the bastard ruined our night,” Fox stated. “I couldn’t see him, but he scared the hell out of Anya.”
“How did you know it was him?”
“Silvian told me I could probably expect a visit from him.” Anya was trying to remain calm. “He also said something about him being the Dauđi Dómr for the Álfr council and that he might be sent to kill me. And that he is your brother.”
“How nice of Silvian to share that information.”
“Lucky he did, otherwise, we could both be dead right now,” snapped Fox. “One would imagine you would be more forthcoming about such vital information.”
“I didn’t think that they would know we were here already. I thought we would have time to free Yanka first,” Aramis shook his head.
“This is about the elvianth, isn’t it?” she asked quietly.
“I didn’t think it worked, but obviously it did. They would have known as soon as you stepped on United States soil. I’m sorry.”
“You and I need to have a talk,” Anya said steadily, “In the meantime, can you please go and see to your brother because I’m drunk and terrified and I can’t be expecting him to jump out like some bogeyman.”
“That is a good name for him. He is the bogeyman to get the little Álfr to behave themselves,” Aramis said snidely.
“I don’t care. Go and see what he wants. I didn’t take Silvian’s advice and blast him with my magic but if he means to kill me then I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
“If he had wanted to kill you, Anya, you would be very dead. He wouldn’t have revealed himself to you at all.”
“That’s not helping,” warned Fox.
“I know but it’s true. Now, if you ladies wouldn’t mind stepping outside for a minute, I would like to get dressed.”
“Fine, ruin all of our fun,” teased Fox as they got up and went into the main area of the suite. Anya helped herself to a bottle of Coke and a chocolate from the mini bar. If she was going to put up with anything else tonight, she needed to try to sober up quickly.
She walked out onto the balcony to try to get some fresh air. Søren was across the street smiling at her. Instead of freezing up in fear, she leaned on the balcony railing and blew him a kiss. She always did act childishly when she felt threatened. He gave her a little wave and flicked his power out at her. It was heady and luscious and made something very female inside of her tremble. How dare he use Álfr tricks on her! Before she could even try to stop it, darkly coloured ribbons of magic leapt from her hands and flew across to meet him. Søren’s smile faltered as they wrapped around him.
“Aramis!” she cried in panic. “Help me! I can’t stop it.” He burst out of the room with one hand buttoning a pair of jeans.
“I can stop it,” he said. He took her into his arms and kissed her. His power jumped into her and her own snapped back to wrap itself around him. Trajan had been a good kisser. Aramis made the earth drop away. He kissed her with his mouth and his power. It shattered her as he brought her closer and deepened it. A pulse of power, stronger than the one in Budapest, exploded around them.
Anya was crying with the sheer ecstasy and beauty of the moment. When they pulled apart, she was shaking uncontrollably. Søren had hit the sidewalk, and when he got to his feet, Anya saw his nose and ears were bleeding.
“Go inside, Anya. I shall deal with my brother,” Aramis said firmly. Fox had watched everything and she stumbled forward to take Anya from him.
“I don’t know what the fuck happened,” she said. “You can bet your ass Mama Lya, Abélard and Harley will be here any minute.”
“I don’t know what happened either,” Anya said in a daze, her knees like jelly. “I don’t think I’m going to drink anymore.”
“Hush your mouth,” Fox chided as she lowered Anya onto a couch. “I felt that rattle through me so I can’t imagine what it did to you.”
“That was a kiss,” whispered Anya as she touched her fingers to her lips.
“A powerful thing indeed,” Fox smiled at the Peter Pan reference but she looked concerned. Her mobile started ringing in her pocket. “I told you it wouldn’t take them long. Hello, Harley, yes get your ass over here. Yes, bring them all home.”
“Is Yvan okay?” Anya asked.
“Is Yvan okay?” Fox asked Harley, “He is fine, Anya, rattled like everyone else.” Anya breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t want to do anything that would do damage to him or the firebird. He would probably try to throttle Aramis for kissing her.
It was lucky Aramis had kissed her though. He knew it would bring her power to him and away from his brother. Anya had no idea what kind of power Søren had and if Aramis hadn’t acted, he might have been able to do terrible damage. Søren’s power was completely different to Aramis. His was all light. Søren’s was dark. It wasn’t an evil dark like Vasilli’s but the kind of dark that was rich and intoxicating.
“Oh, shit, oh shit,” she started muttering over and over. Fox had hung up the phone and fetched her some water.
“Drink this and don’t go into shock on me,” she instructed looking like a fierce pixie. Anya did as she said and felt her heart rate steady.
“Aramis is gone,” Fox said. “I wouldn’t like to be his brother right now.”
“I have a very strong feeling his brother can take care of himself.”
***
Aramis stood a few metres from Søren. He was so angry with him that he wanted to attack him with everything he had. That wouldn’t help the situation though and it certainly wouldn’t help Anya. He had expected a reaction when he kissed her, but he didn’t expect that reaction.
“Hello, brother,” Søren greeted and bowed. “Couldn’t you find a shirt?”
Aramis bowed in return. “Why are you here, Søren?”
“Straight to the point as always. You will never change, Aramis.”
“Neither will you. Have you come to kill her?”
“Do you think she would still be drawing breath right now if I had?” Søren replied, his face twisting in amusement.
“No, but I don’t understand you going out of your way to frighten her if you hadn’t come to murder her,” Aramis replied sternly.
“I was only teasing her a little.”
“Don’t.”
“She looks a lot like Yanka. She is a descendant of hers, if I’m not mistaken,” Søren mused, “though her power tastes different. Just as strong but sweeter and more innocent. But you know that don’t you, brother. Do you realise you alerted her presence to every magical creature and being in this whole state?”
Ashes of the Firebird (The Firebird Fairytales Book 2) Page 28
