by Jami Gray
The old man’s head turned back toward her. It was odd to watch. The white hair and old professor image moved like a mirage, but there was a sense of something else, something other. That other was a lot larger than the frail human form sitting in his high backed chair. Larger and more monstrous. Something huge with teeth and horns. The image wavered and the only thing keeping it connected to the image of the man known as Rio was the red glow of his eyes.
The room’s temperature dropped and she battled back the need to shiver. Her bloodless fingers clenched around a knife she didn’t remember drawing. Next to her, Gavin tensed. She felt energy being sucked in and held steady. Gavin may not have a weapon visible, but a spell would work just as well. As a witch, he knew what would work against a demon more so than Raine.
Poised on the knife’s edge of tension, they watched Rio and waited. It was never good to go against the top dog in the Amanusa House.
“The natural order,” snarled Rio, “exists because the Amanusa exists. In every culture, in every ancient tale of creation, there is the light and there is dark. They balance each other.” Watching them, he sniffed once, as if taking in their scents. The smile blooming on his face was far from comforting.
As he continued, the chill air in the room began to lessen. “For every living thing—human, Kyn, or what have you—there is balance. Opposites, if you will. Good and evil, light and dark, witch and wizard, life and death, Lycan and magi, right and wrong, fey and Amanusa. When you upset that balance you have chaos.”
“The Amanusa thrive in chaos,” Raine stated softly. It wasn’t that she wanted to piss this demon off, but she was trying to feel her way through what he was sharing. She could sense the teasing thread of understanding lurking just out of reach.
Rio gave an unexpected laugh. It was a true sound, containing a dark joy as if she had said something truly spectacular. “Perhaps, McCord. We don’t thrive so much as enjoy what emerges from the chaos. If the natural law is balance, then out of chaos something must emerge that balances the two forces. Sometimes it’s worse than we can imagine, others it’s better.” His laughter faded but he still watched her closely. “And sometimes we have no idea what it is until it’s too late.”
Something in his tone made her flinch. His cryptic messages were pointless, a waste of their time. They needed answers and he was engaging in a philosophical debate. It wouldn’t surprise her if Rio really was a professor, a theological professor. He’d get a kick out of that job. Talk about chaos.
Gavin’s let his magic disperse, the tight knot of power slowly unraveling as if he decided Rio was no longer a threat. “What would be gained by taking out the Lycans and witches?”
Rio shrugged, the persona of a crotchety college professor firmly back in place. “For me, nothing.” At Gavin’s look, he continued, “Granted, I find some amusement in watching the squabbles between the Lycans and the magi. However the tensions between the two Houses have been in place longer than dead bodies have been popping up.”
Considering how closed lipped Tala and Chavez had been, Raine was unsurprised by that little tidbit. “How much longer?”
Rio pushed up from the chair. “I need a drink. Would you like anything?” He didn’t wait for their answers and headed into the kitchen.
Through the pass-through, Raine watched as Rio stuck his head in the refrigerator, before answering her question. “Going on six or seven years now.” Brown bottle in hand, he closed the door and pulled down a glass. “It’s an old story, one even Shakespeare told.” Pouring the bottle’s content into the glass, he ambled back to his chair. “Teenage girl meets teenage boy. They fall in love, but their families don’t approve.”
Raine caught the faint scent of root beer. Uh, she figured him for the real thing.
Settling into his chair, Rio took a sip before continuing. “I don’t know the details, just bits and pieces. Mainly from rumors and hearsay as I wasn’t inclined to get involved.”
He carefully set his glass down on the nearby side table. “The girl was from a family on the reservation. Witches I believe. I don’t know her name, but I think it was just her and her mother. The boy was Chavez’s son. They two met at some rodeo, hit it off, and dated for quite some time. The story goes the boy was thrown from a spooked horse while riding fences miles from home. By the time anyone realized he might be in trouble, it was too late. His family was devastated to lose their only son.”
“And the girl?” she asked.
He took another sip. “I’m not sure who told her, but there were rumors she and the boy’s mother got into it at his funeral. Words were exchanged, and the girl left in tears. The boy’s mother was furious, looking for someone to blame, and the little girl was a good target.”
“Where is she now?” Gavin broke in.
Rio shrugged one shoulder. “No one knows. She and her mother disappeared about a week later. No one knows why. Some say she couldn’t stay where the memories lived, others say the boy’s mother bought them off. Stories abound, some more believable than others.”
But he had a theory, Raine could tell. “What do you think happened?”
Rio tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair, his gaze shuttered. “I think prejudices lie thick and deep around here. Regardless if you’re human or Kyn, there are some who think the two should never mix. Others still who think even within the Kyn, you shouldn’t mix bloodlines.”
Recognizing his non-answer, Raine tried to fit the pieces together. “Where does Tala fit into this story?”
Rio studied her for a long moment. “For all her faults, Tala is a worthy Head of House. Her family has been in this land for a very long time. Not all of them were Kyn, and occasionally a human would marry into the family. If the rumors are true, this little girl and her family were relatives of Tala’s. The witch takes familial ties very seriously.”
Okay, so Tala had a personal stake in this mess. “So this fatal teenage romance created some new divisions between the magi and the pack?”
“Not between the alpha and the magi,” Rio clarified.
“Between the alpha’s mate and the magi,” Raine said softly, remembering the subtle undercurrents in Tala and Lizbeth’s interactions.
Rio gave an approving smile and a short nod.
Gavin leaned forward, his arms on his knees. “Lizbeth is Lycan, correct?”
“As far as I know, yes,” the demon lord answered.
One of Rio’s earlier statements had Raine asking, “Was she ever one of those inquisitive minds?”
His answer wasn’t really an answer at all. “You need to be careful in your dealings with whoever is holding your magi. This land is old. Some of those who walk it hold to beliefs older still—and gray is the only shade they see.”
Chapter Seventeen
Caught in her thoughts, Raine sat quietly beside Gavin as they drove back to Tala’s. Rio’s story kept tugging at her. Something didn’t fit. Thinking aloud, she worked it through. “Rio said Chavez’s son was thrown by a spooked horse, but I thought other animals were naturally skittish around shifters?”
“I’m not sure.” Gavin didn’t take his gaze off the road, occasionally using the windshield wipers to clear the hazy slush thrown up by passing vehicles. “But we can ask Xander when we get back.”
Grimacing, she realized most of her questions would have to wait. “Yeah, definitely need to run some things by her. Shifters are damn closemouthed about things.”
He gave a short snort. “And the Fey and witches are open books right?”
“Point.” Leaning her elbow on the edge of the window, she let her aching head rest on her hand. “Sometimes I think we need a Kyn For Dummies manual.”
“Why?” he drawled. “You have such a diplomatic touch with everyone.”
She didn’t stop the small smile his sarcasm brought out. “Well, what can I say? When you’re good, you’re good.”
Closing her eyes, she let the motion of the car lull her into the stage where she walked the li
ne between awareness and sleep. The scrape of the blades against the windshield blended with the muted sounds of the other cars on the road. There was a soft whooshing sound as the heater fought back the cold. When she felt Gavin’s hand gently still her fingers, she realized she had been rubbing the spot on her thigh where he had smacked her earlier.
Lifting her lashes, she studied him. He wasn’t looking at her, just holding her hand. Such an innocent touch, but it felt like so much more. She dropped her gaze to their hands. His nails were short and his honey colored skin was marked with a few scraps and nicks. Her skin was noticeably lighter and her nails were longer, a few more ragged than the others. Both hands held similarities—old scars from past battles, calluses from years of weapons training—and each was deadly in their own right. Needing the newly intimate connection they shared, she turned her hand so their palms met and their fingers tangled.
“Does it hurt?” His question was quiet, but there was a touch of something akin to remorse threading through it.
Puzzled, she glanced up. “Huh?” Wow, that sounded intelligent.
He glanced at her then, without letting go of her hand, and used one finger to touch the spot on her thigh. “Did I hurt you?”
“I’m crippled for life.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be an ass, I’m fine.”
There was a small twitch at the corner of his mouth, but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. He gave her hand a small squeeze and happiness made itself at home. It was unsettling. How long had it been since she felt like this? Sadly, she couldn’t remember.
Absently rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand, she studied the man she was now irrevocably tied to. No one would ever mistake him for other than what he was, a warrior. It was there in the way he carried himself, the quiet self-assurance and constant watchfulness. Add in his latent strength lying under a layer of discipline, and it created a very tempting combination.
How had he done it? Her small edge of jealously was petty, but she couldn’t quash it. She was still dealing with the consequences of having her magic, her sense of self, altered so drastically years ago. Yet here it was, three months after he had his own magic blasted wide open, and he didn’t seem much different than before. Granted, he had a darker edge, but overall, he was the same man who walked into her house in October and made a place for himself in her life.
“How do you do it?” As soon as she uttered the question, she could feel the heat stealing up her cheeks. The sad wistfulness tingeing her voice made her uncomfortable.
He tightened his grip until she stopped trying to pull her hand free. “Do what?”
Sighing, she gave an uncomfortable shrug. When would she learn to keep her mouth shut? “You’re so normal.” Maybe normal wasn’t the right word, but she couldn’t find a better one.
“Normal? Is that what you call it?” He shook his head. “I’m pretty far from normal.”
“You seem to have your magic under control.” Oh gods, that did not come out whiny!
“Ever hear the term ‘fake it till you make it’?”
Right! A spike of hurt flashed. If he didn’t want to share, so be it. She yanked her hand away, suddenly disappointed—but uncertain with whom. The car made a quick exit. “Where are you going?”
He didn’t answer, but the grim look on his face set off her warning bells. Pulling into a parking lot of a strip mall, he brought the car to a stop. Throwing it in park, he left the engine running, but turned in the driver’s seat to face her.
“You think I have it all figured out?” Strangely enough, his growling voice sent warmth spiraling through her.
She was one sick puppy if his yelling turned her on.
“You think I would ask if I hurt you, if I had this under control?”
Amazement rose. Gone was the calmly controlled man she was used to seeing. Unable to formulate an answer, she could only mutter, “You didn’t hurt me.”
“Maybe not this time. But what about the next time, or the one after that? What good am I if I can’t control my own magic? I can’t ignore it. It’s always there, this roiling mass of energy screaming to be used.”
His jaw locked, anger and frustration leaking from him. The quick flash of fear she discovered nestled deep inside him during her morning explorations started to make sense. Control was as vital to him as it was to her. Losing that control, even a little bit, was a frightening proposition, because the results could be disastrous.
Seeing this strong warrior begin to doubt himself left her heart aching. But as his last statement sank in, she wondered what she missed. “Used how?”
The look he shot her sent a slice of dread through her soul. “However I can. I’ve learned to use it before it builds up too much. The more it builds the less control I have over it.”
Unable to stop, she reached out to gently touch his clenched jaw. Just under the anger in his voice was the one emotion she never thought she would hear from him, fear. “You have to be one of the most disciplined men I know, Gavin.”
“It may not be enough this time.” His voice was quiet, eerily empty.
She narrowed her eyes. “Bullshit.” The word was a whip. “I don’t believe that. It’s magic, no matter how it was created. You are Kyn. Not only are you Kyn, but you are a Wraith. You have fought worse things and walked away.”
“Yeah but those monsters didn’t live inside me.”
“Seriously?” Her short laugh was sharp. “Think about it. As Wraiths we’re the bogeymen to all bad little Kyn. You think that monster came from Lawson’s little drug cocktail?” She leaned forward. “I hate to break it to you, but it was already there. It’s why you’re a Wraith. Don’t you understand? We were picked to be Wraiths because to hunt the monsters, you don’t send out hunters, you send out other monsters.”
The bitterness in her own voice rang through the car’s interior. Defiantly she held his narrow-eyed stare and folded her arms across her chest as the windows around them began to fog over. Obviously, Rio’s little digs about judges and jury had gotten under her skin more than she realized.
“I’m not a teenager.” He watched her. “I’m older and have a hell of a lot of practice with shields. You spent months at the mercy of twisted men. I spent a few hours. Granted, it was enough. I’ve spent the last three months trying to come to terms with what’s been unlocked.”
He shifted in his seat. “Some days are easier than others. For the first couple of weeks, it was all I could do to keep sane. If it wasn’t for you and Cassandra, I’m not sure I would have made it back.”
She looked away, fighting back shame. “I didn’t do anything.” She wanted to see him, but her guilt at putting him in Lawson’s line of fire kept her back.
He grabbed her chin. “You survived, and I couldn’t do anything less.”
The intensity in his eyes had her tongue nervously wetting her lips. His thumb rasped against her lower lip, following the moist trail. The simple caress made her breath catch, and when his head lowered, she met him halfway.
The minute his lips touched hers, heat engulfed her. The whispers of doubt fled under the fire, and she gave in to the inevitable. He made her want things she never thought she’d get, and he made her believe. In him. In her. In them.
Her tongue teased his, and his groan turned her blood to molten lava. Their rising passion sucked her under. Tunneling her fingers through his hair, she reveled in the feel of the silky strands, using them to hold him close so she could plunder the heated depths of his mouth. The seatbelt was a minor inconvenience, holding her back from crawling closer.
His hands stayed as busy as his talented mouth. They stroked over her neck and caressed downward until he could fill his palms with her breasts. Her shirt was a flimsy barrier to his sensual assault. Ripping his mouth away, he flicked his tongue to trace the cord in her throat. Her head fell back, giving him better access. He gently nipped her skin where neck and shoulder met, his stinging bite lost in her rising passion. Those clever fingers forged a fiery t
rail that left her breasts feeling full and heavy, causing a small whimper of need to escape her. Constrained by the seatbelt, she could do nothing but surrender to his touch.
With a wicked chuckle, he bent down and drew one tight nipple into his mouth, shirt and all. She was lost as her body rocked under his touch. His tongue curled over her, tugging her deeper into his mouth, as his hand plucked and teased her other breast. The feel of being restrained as he tormented her was almost more than she could take.
The blast of a car horn shattered her haze of passion. “Gavin,” she breathed, her voice hoarse with need. Awareness of their surroundings flooded back.
He nuzzled her one last time, before giving her a quick, hard kiss. His grimace as he shifted back into his seat drew her gaze downward. His hard-on was obvious, and her body didn’t care where they were—it wanted. She closed her eyes, trying to get her breathing back under control. If she couldn’t see him, maybe she could bank this fire. Instead, the heady scent of him wound its way deep inside.
“You’re a dangerous woman, Raine McCord.” His voice rough, he shifted uncomfortably.
She blinked. “I didn’t start it this time.” Was that husky voice hers? Damn him. She cleared her throat.
He gave a deep chuckle and leaned forward to wipe the fogged glass clear. She did the same on her side, trying to ignore her body’s pleas. Windshield cleared, he clicked his seatbelt and put the car in gear.
Trying to diffuse the lingering sexual tension, she asked the one question wanted to ask for a while. “What did Lawson unlock?”
Yep, the tension definitely changed. She could actually feel him pull back emotionally. It hurt. Rubbing the phantom pain in her chest, she frowned.
Just when she thought he wouldn’t answer, he did. “So far, I can make an individual believe an illusion is real.”
Looking for clarification, she asked, “You alter what they think?”
His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “Not exactly.”
