“Please. Please. Please,” she whispered.
The little screen told her the time in London, the weather in Boston, and a factoid about Mount Rushmore before informing her that she had an email from Kendel. Forest held her breath. Some of the message was lost but the words that mattered most popped up. “Leave before first light.”
Forest sighed and then laughed, relieved. Her phone wouldn’t be any more use to her on the trip. She tried to call, tried to email Kendel. The phone refused to play along. Well, she had been chosen for the job because she knew the Wood better than any other operative, she reminded herself. She would just have to do without any other help from Kendel. She jumped up to tell Syrus they would be leaving in a matter of hours.
Syrus’ door was shut. He was listening to Cake’s version of Mahna Mahna loudly. She laughed to herself as she heard him singing along, before knocking. The music shut off.
“Come in.”
Syrus sat cross-legged on the floor, playing with a slinky.
“I just got word from Kendel. We need to leave before dawn. So, that gives us about five hours. You should think about getting some sleep.”
“Okay, Mom.”
“Well, I’m going to sleep once I finish packing. You need to do that too.”
“Hm. Yes. Do you have any more human clothes for me?” he asked.
“I’ll go down and find some.”
Forest was happy to find a new pullover that would fit Syrus, along with two other pairs of jeans and a few T-shirts. As she walked up the stairs, she remembered that they still had not figured out their cover story if they were captured, or how to change Syrus’ hairstyle.
“Here,” she said tersely, dumping the clothes on his bed. “Fix your hair. I’m going to finish packing, and then I’m going to sleep. So, leave me alone.”
Syrus grunted in response as she shut the door behind her.
Chapter Nine
KENDEL SAT in the back of the high council chamber, wishing he had a stiff drink. It was a nightmare that had been going on for hours. Kendel kept his opinions to himself and let the rest of them shout. The high council allowed the low council in their beloved chamber, but the real problem, aside from the tantrums, was that the king and queen were there and they had thrown a wooden shoe into the machine. Kendel had considered discreetly recording the whole thing with his phone and sending it on to Forest, but as soon as the queen began speaking, he knew he would never even tell Forest half of what was said that day, as most of it was disparaging towards Forest herself. Kendel forced his mind to hum as things were said against Forest. If he even alluded to what he was thinking, it would cost him his job. And if he lost his job, Forest would lose hers as well.
“I want this mission aborted,” Queen Christiana said quietly as she addressed the council. “There is no call for this misconstrued plan to continue any further. An entire platoon will be dispatched as soon as this meeting is adjourned to go and collect Prince Syrus and bring him back to the safety of the Onyx Castle. Scouts can be sent in search of this wizard, although I don’t see why he would be any more successful than Devonte has been in restoring my son’s sight. Syrus is the future king of Regia. He must be kept safe from Philippe, this backward befuddled organization, and social-climbing, bastard Halflings.”
Kendel watched King Zeren while the queen spoke. It was obvious the King did not agree with his wife, but he made no move to speak against her. The whole mission had been the King’s idea to begin with. Kendel was taken aback by the king’s passive resignation. No, he downright resented it. This was the first time Kendel had thought Zeren weak.
When Christiana finished and re-seated herself, the finger pointing and arguing began again. Finally, when the vehement council members had exhausted their vocal chords, the call for a full council vote was made. Kendel watched and voted that Forest be allowed to complete the mission with a few others. The majority voted against, and Kendel was forced to send Forest an “abort mission” email.
****
Forest made sure Syrus had everything he needed packed tightly in a Spiderman backpack. He wanted to use the pack he had brought with him, but he became enthusiastic about the backpack Forest gave him when she showed him all the handy little pockets. She transferred all the blood he brought into stainless steel sports bottles, and as an afterthought, made sure he had a flare gun and showed him how to use it. After she had packed, un-packed, and packed all his things, she was satisfied and bid him goodnight.
Forest retreated to her room and was just as conscientious packing her stuff as she had been with his. The looming danger had distracted her marvelously from her thoughts of Syrus’ mouth and how she wanted it on her own again. When she had stuffed the last pocket and zipped the last zipper, the lights went out, and Forest climbed into bed. She hovered on the edge of sleep, unable to fall into the abyss.
She ghosted through the darkness of her house to his room. Resting her forehead against the door, her hand caressed the knob. Did she dare turn it? The door eased open. He lay in bed, sitting up on his elbows, facing her. She hesitated.
“Come here,” he commanded in a whisper.
She pulled the cover up and slid beneath it into his arms. His lips brushed against hers, and she moved down, resting her head over his heart.
Forest eyes fluttered open in the dark. She’d been dreaming, alone in her bed, but she didn’t feel like she was alone at all. Forest sat up, and her breath caught. A silhouette stood in her doorway.
“Am I dreaming?” she whispered.
“Hmmm? Dreaming? Maybe,” Syrus answered.
Forest got out of bed and walked over to him. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she could see him now. He reached out for her, but she stopped just beyond his grasp. He sighed and let his arms fall back to his sides.
“Is there something wrong?” she asked.
“Yes and no.”
“Why are you standing in my doorway like a psychopath?”
Syrus turned his face away from her. “It’s you. You bother me. I can’t sleep. I lay in bed, and all I can hear is your breathing, your heartbeat. I can smell you. You’re driving me crazy. I’ve never met anyone who bothers me as much as you do.”
“Well. I don’t know what you think I can do about it?”
“Would you let me drink from you? You cannot imagine how badly I want to. I wouldn’t take much, I promise. And I’ll be very gentle. Please?”
Forest’s brow pulled down as she considered how to answer him. She wasn’t tempted to agree to his request, not in the slightest. However, the humble way he had asked her made her almost regret that she couldn’t allow it—almost. In any case, she wasn’t keen to suffer from the physical pain it would cause. She was almost certain that the second Syrus’ teeth broke through her skin her scars would scream as though they’d been injected with acid. On the other hand, his demure begging made her feel powerful and, though she would never admit it to herself, a little hot.
Forest sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t want you to have control over me,” she answered honestly.
“That wears off pretty quickly. I wouldn’t use it anyway. And it’s not actually control, more of a susceptibility to my suggestions and requests.”
“I don’t need any more scars. I have enough already, thanks.” she said in a clipped tone.
“Scars? My bite wouldn’t leave any scars. I’m not asking to mark you.”
Forest blushed, thankful he couldn’t see it. She forced herself to swallow. “I—umm--I don’t think—” she said slowly.
Syrus took a step back and held up his hands in defeat. “I’m sorry. Forget I asked.”
Forest stood there woodenly. A dull ache spread through her heart. Syrus made her hate Leith more that she already did. She looked out her window at the sky. “Our time here is short now. Maybe we should just finish getting ready and take off.”
“Okay. Just one more thing before we leave though,” Syrus said.
“What?”
Forest’s mouth fell open. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Syrus perched on a barstool in the middle of the kitchen, a towel draped around his bare shoulders, while Forest got her hair scissors out of the bathroom cabinet. He was toying with the end of his braid, bemused. Was he really going to do this just for a chance to touch her again? Hell yes, he was.
When Forest came back into the kitchen she felt acutely nervous. She hadn’t consciously realized how badly she wanted to touch his hair until then. Not only were they about to engage in something highly taboo in Regia, purposefully touching a vampire’s hair was considered an intimate action.
Forest laid her hand gently on his shoulder. “Now you’re sure? Totally sure?”
Syrus chuckled. “I’m nervous enough as it is, Forest. You don’t have to make it worse.”
“Just say it again, please.”
“Do it.”
Forest put the scissors in the pocket of her jeans and reached to remove the metal clasp at the base of his braid. Her hands shook. She clenched them together and took a deep breath. There was nothing personal in this action, she reminded herself. As soon as the clasp was loose, she began unwinding the intricate lacing of his hair. A shiver rolled through her as the hair ran in between her fingers like silk spun from shadows. She almost couldn’t bring herself to cut it. She had been unconsciously running her fingers through it, mesmerized how the light slid along the shaft.
Syrus’ whole body covered in goose bumps. His fingers dug into his knees. “Forest,” his voice was husky. “Please.”
Forest shook herself and pulled out the scissors. “Sorry.”
She knew the only way she was going to get through this was to just do it quickly. She grabbed a large handful of hair and wacked it off just under his ear. She didn’t let it fall on the floor; she laid it gently on the counter. It didn’t take long before it was all short and she was evening it up. Forest shook the towel he’d been draped with while he ran his hands through his hair. Forest figured that he would have some plan for the hair she’d cut off, but when she looked down at it she was seized with possessive desire. “Syrus, may I keep your hair?”
He turned and faced her. He looked fantastic with short hair. “Why would you want it?” he asked.
“I don’t really know,” she answered honestly. “I just do. I promise to keep it safe.”
Syrus crossed his arms over his chest. He looked annoyed. “Tell you what,” he said slowly, “I’ll sell it to you.”
Forest’s stomach tightened. “What’s your price?”
“I want…”
Forest held her breath unsure what she would, or wouldn’t, refuse.
“Let me touch your face,” he said quietly.
Forest exhaled. “My face?”
“So I can know what you look like.”
“Syrus, have you forgotten I’m a shifter? My appearance changes with my whims.”
“I haven’t forgotten. I just want a mental image of you, even if it’s wrong.”
She had no idea that he was lying, that he already had a mental image of her, and that it was artifice so he could get his hands on her again.
“All right.”
Syrus moved toward her slowly, but in such a way that had her backing up until her butt hit the edge of the counter. She thought about how she looked at that moment and decided to make a little change before he touched her. She had to stifle the giggle in her throat as she quickly enlarged her forehead and nose so that she looked grotesquely bizarre.
He raised both of his hands and lightly touched both of her cheeks. Forest’s eyes widened as she felt her head and nose shrink back down without her consent. His fingertips ran along the length of her eyebrows, down the edge of her ears, the length of her jaw. She should not have allowed this, she realized violently. Forest closed her eyes as his fingers skimmed her eyelashes. She began to shiver. When his thumb ran over her bottom lip Forest had to grab the counter for support.
“You’re beautiful, Forest,” he whispered.
He cupped her face with both his hands again as though he meant to kiss her, and rested his forehead against hers. His eyes reflected like silver mirrors. All the color drained from Forest’s face. A small-strangled gasp escaped her throat. She pushed him roughly away, sprinting to her room.
“Forest?” he called after her.
She locked the door behind her and slid down it to the floor. Now she knew, now she understood. In the reflection of his dead eyes, she saw her true form. Syrus was her destined life mate. Everything that had happened between them made sense now. They had bonded the second they had kissed, but their connection was incomplete and out of order. Had he not been blind, their first and strongest connection would have been made the second they had made their first eye contact.
Syrus knocked lightly on her door. “Forest? Are you all right?”
“Yes. I’m fine,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I just need a minute to myself. I’ll be right out.”
“Okay.”
Forest held her head in her hands. What was she going to do?
Well she knew one thing she was not going to do. She was not going to tell Syrus. He might suspect it given that they had forged one connection already. Forest could have kicked herself for that, but she couldn’t deny that she had wanted to kiss him. She thought about the stories she knew about people who had rejected their life mates and the ramifications of that decision. There were other stories of those who had made eye contact with their life mates, like in a crowd, and because of circumstances, had never been able to meet each other. The stories always talked of the pain that was involved. Well, Forest would just have to deal with it. Pain was her daily companion. She was used to it.
But what about Syrus? What about the pain it would cause him? Forest didn’t want to think about it. The thought of his pain added a coating to hers. In one instant, she had transformed from a reluctant and occasionally surly guardian to one that would give her life without thought or hesitation. She made a firm decision right there that she would do her job to the best of her ability and when they reached the wizard, she would abandon him before his sight returned. Yes, that was exactly what she would do.
Forest took a deep breath and stood up. Regardless of the emotional turmoil she was in, they had to leave now. She rested her hand on the doorknob and hesitated. She had to act as if nothing had changed. She had to act exactly the same way she had been. No, that wasn’t right. She had to be more defensive than ever. She couldn’t let him in any more than she already had. She was really worried about how she would respond to him now that she knew what he was to her. She didn’t know how strong that instinct would be, and if she was capable of fighting it for long.
Syrus was waiting for her by the front door, pacing back and forth. He was barefoot, like always, in light stonewashed jeans, and she was pleased to see that he had figured out how to get the pull over on by himself. She watched him from her doorway as he slid his arm through the straps of his backpack, anxiety emanating from him. He turned his head toward her as she came out. “Is everything okay, Forest?” he asked mildly.
“Yes. I’m trying to think it through, make sure we haven’t forgotten anything important. You seem to be missing something vital.”
Syrus’ hand immediately went to the flask he always had on his belt. His face relaxed as his hand closed around it. “What have I forgotten?”
She smiled. “Don’t you feel a little off balance?”
His expression told her he had no idea what she was talking about.
“You’ll have a hard time killing anything unfriendly without your weapons.”
Syrus’ cheeks flushed as he turned back into his room to get his two short swords. Forest strapped her own pack on, and when Syrus came back out, he had his swords on his hips.
“All right,” he said loudly, pulling his shoulders back and lifting his head up trying to shrug of
f his embarrassment. “I’m ready to go.”
The sunrise was clawing its way to the horizon. Forest locked the front door behind them, armed the perimeter alarm, and gave one last loving glance at her property before they passed through the gate and into the world.
Chapter Ten
TENSION HOVERED in the air of the Onyx Castle. The upper hand was being fought for with whispered orders and skilled manipulation. Queen Christiana was using her influence with the ogres in her service to try to undermine the King as much as possible.
Zeren, unable to veto the vote taken in the council, held a private meeting with the squad set to retrieve Syrus from Forest’s care. There he appointed Redge to lead the bogus mission. Giving authority to Redge was Zeren’s ace in the hole. Christiana could cause plenty of trouble, but Zeren squeezing Redge into the mix had trumped her best scheming.
Moments before the squad left the castle, Zeren met secretly with Redge.
Redge came quietly into the dark room and inclined his head to the king. Zeren strode up to him and grabbed him by the shirt. “Do what you have to,” Zeren said desperately. “Give them a chance. You spoke to Kendel?”
“Yes, my king. He’s with us. Forest and Syrus should be on their way now. I will delay as much as I can without invoking recalcitrance within the squad. We will track and protect them.”
Zeren eased his grip on Redge and smacked him once on the back. “Good. Good.” His eyes seemed to lose focus. “I have a premonition about this, Redge. It’s the strangest thing. I feel that Syrus is on a great precipice. He must be allowed to finish this. I feel there is more than his sight on the line. Does that make any sense?”
Redge thought back to the night that Syrus left. There had been something elemental in that room as soon as Forest had come in. “It makes sense, my King. I feel it too.”
Zeren backed away from Redge and began pacing back and forth. “You’re the best of them, Redge.”
“Beg pardon, your highness?”
Forbidden Forest (The Legends of Regia) Page 11
