“Sorry to wake you,” Kent said and she blushed, hoping he couldn’t tell where her thoughts had been leading.
“It’s all right,” she pulled herself to a sitting position, curling her legs up to her chest and tucking the blankets around her. “What time is it?
“Five or so. Feel free to order breakfast if you’re hungry. I won’t be long.” Then he stopped short just as he reached the door. “Don’t leave the room, Dev. As long as you’re in here, you’re kept safe by Langston’s protections.”
Devan glanced to the spot where the giant was sleeping sitting up in a chair, his feet propped against the windowsill. She opened her mouth to speak but snapped it closed and wrinkled her face into a pensive frown.
Kent was almost as surprised as she seemed to be when he burst into a sudden laugh. The hint of a warm smile lingered as he spoke. “I know you don’t understand what that means and you still have a lot of questions. Give it time, okay?”
She nodded, dropping her chin onto her knees. Kent looked at her for a long moment before taking a deep breath and leaving the room. She shouldn’t have been, but she was astounded to see the bolt on the door turn and lock by itself. “Magic,” she muttered to herself and shook her head.
Morning, m’dear. Whadya got on under that big, baggy t-shirt, huh?
Wouldn’t you like to know?
Damn right I would. Unfortunately for me I always keep my promises–can’t you let me outta that one? Just once? Please –
Devan rolled her eyes. You’re such a sicko. She knew just what promise he meant. By the time she’d become old enough to be modest about her body, she’d elicited a “pinky swear” promise from him that he would never, ever look at her naked without her permission. Despite the fact that she’d never been able to see him, she could remember that she’d stuck her pinky out and imagined his finger locking with hers in solemn vow.
Besides, she continued in her head, how do I know you’ve kept that promise? I’d not be able to tell even if you did peek.
Devvie, I have never once lied to you and I’ve never once broken a promise. You always trusted me. Has that changed?
Rubbing her hands over her eyes, she took a moment to consider that question. You knew about the magic. You knew I was–you knew –
I knew. I know a lot more, but I made other promises and I can’t break those promises either. I will be here with you, Devan. I will guide you, but there are some things I have to let you to discover on your own.
What about Kent? And Langston?
Again she felt a faint wind, like a breath against her ear. When Roon said again, his voice was changed. It was more serious, adult, wise. This is all a part of your destiny. Remember, tomorrow is promised to no one, and I can’t guarantee you what will happen on this journey. You must travel the road and I will do my best to protect you. Much of this journey depends on you.
Devan snorted in derision. Then she stretched her arms behind her head and sank back into the mattress. Her mind reverted back to the discussions they’d had the night before. Kent and Langston had argued, the former quite vehemently. Kent insisted that she should not be present for today’s mission, that she should remain secured in their hotel room until this part of the job was done. Never once had the behemoth raised his voice or allowed himself to become heated, though she could sense that he was somewhat surprised and bewildered by his friend’s steadfast insistence on keeping Devan separate. Finally Kent had succumbed and agreed to allow her to stand guard outside the meeting room.
Today their extra “teammate” Gerry would arrive. Kent hadn’t been willing to go into too much detail about him, though she’d been able to wrangle from him that Gerry too had magic but was not a dhampir. She couldn’t help but wonder what special talent the newcomer had that was so crucial to today’s endeavor.
“Good morning, little one. Were you able to rest?” Langston asked from the opposite side of the room, sitting with his torso ramrod straight and his hands resting on his knees.
Devan squinted her eyes and cocked her head at him. “Did you do it again? Charm me?”
The giant smiled, a warm smile unfitting to his huge and imposing form. “I did not. You were exhausted last night so I felt it wasn’t necessary.”
She nodded, chewing the inside of her cheek, a habit she used to have in college when she was nervous. Langston watched her, his chin high as he examined her.
“Come here, little one. Stand before me.”
Devan hesitated, sitting up but not making a move to exit the bed. She monitored his expression, wondering what he intended. She didn’t trust him any more than she trusted Kent or even Roon at this point. Everyone around her seemed to be morphing, becoming something she didn’t recognize or understand, and she felt as skittish as the mouse in a corner dodging the lady with a broomstick.
“Devan, trust is key.”
“Why should I trust any of you? I don’t know you, and you have to admit that springing the fact that you all have magical powers and that you have in the past drugged me with potions doesn’t engender much confidence.”
A smile twitched at the giant’s lips, and though she didn’t see how it was possible, he sat up even straighter. “It is not me who you must learn to trust. It is yourself. Now, come here, little one.”
Rolling her eyes like an annoyed teenager, Devan threw the covers aside and marched over to him. He motioned for her to stand in front of him. Langston was so tall and large and she so petite that they nearly met eye to eye even with him seated and her on her feet. He held his hands out in front of him, palms flat and facing down. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in and out, and she watched as his expression seemed to melt into calm, the lines on his face rubbing away as every muscle slackened. She wasn’t sure what to do so she just watched him for a moment. Then abruptly it occurred to her that she should mirror his stance. She raised her hands to just below his except with her palms facing up. Only an inch separated their skin.
Langston didn’t move at all. He just stayed that way for what seemed an eternity to Devan. Impatiently she drew in a breath, intending to speak, but thought better of it. Instead, she curved her lips into an “o” and blew the breath from her mouth in a long, slow whoosh–instantly she thought of a wooden push button toy, the ones with the button on the bottom that releases the little marionette and it falls slack. With that rush of air forced from between her lips, the strings holding Devan’s body and mind taut were loosed and she felt an ease come over her.
Then, as relaxation melted into her mind, she felt herself become swallowed up in a bubble of concentration. After a while she became aware of Langston’s hands bearing down on hers and it seemed as if a heat were coming from his palms. The temperature built and increased until she felt it would sear her skin. She focused harder, felt a strength welling up in her body, and imagined her hands countering his, pushing up, up, up. She visualized a cool air stemming from behind her eyes and projecting towards her palms to protect her from the ever-growing heat of his hands.
“Do not break your concentration, little one. Maintain focus. Keep your deliberation in tact and slowly, slowly open your eyes,” Langston breathed, but his words were smooth, such that they would not startle her and ruin their meditation.
Devan took two easy, deep breaths, centering herself on the sound of the air entering and leaving her lungs and on the steady heartbeat echoing in her ears. Finally, confident she could maintain her control, she carefully lifted her eyelids.
What she saw was enough to startle her quickly out of her reverie. She would have believed she was imagining things, except that both of their sets of hands were lifted higher, hers almost level with her eyes and his still an inch apart and just above hers. But just before she’d lost her focus, she had seen a glowing surrounding their hands, a blazing blue energy seeping from between their palms and surging outward in all directions.
“Wh–what happened?” she asked, afraid to move.
Finally Langsto
n folded his hands apart like opening a book and brought them down in front of himself, examining his fingers closely.
“Oh my gosh, you’re burned!” Devan exclaimed, looking at the angry, reddening skin. She reached towards his hands, intending to help him, but the big man held them away from her.
“Not burned, little one. Frostbitten. They will heal shortly. You did very well. It would normally take a witch-in-training many sessions to learn such mediation and certainly a good many sessions before she could counteract me. Yes, very well indeed.”
Devan’s eyes widened and she had the sudden urge to get away from the big man, to hide from what she knew he was trying to tell her. But no, there was no use running from herself so she stood pat. “I did that to you? How?”
The door to the hotel room opened and Kent strode in, his breathing still labored after his jog. Devan was momentarily distracted by the way his sweaty hair clung to his forehead and cheeks, but then a residual tingling in her fingers reminded her of Langston and she turned back to him again. “Tell me. How did that happen?”
“How did what happen?” Kent panted.
“When you are able to relax, to draw down your guard, your magic can more fully come to the surface and thereby you can learn to control it. I focused my magic through yours, leading you, but you took control. It might be easily explained by thinking of the action of siphoning. Once I drew forth the power, your own magic took over the momentum. This –” he said, raising his hands, and although they were still red and looked burned, the skin did indeed appear to be healing, “was an act of protection for you so it was easy for you to focus on it, much the same way you did when you forced Kent to drop his weapon. Other acts will be more difficult for you to master, but you will learn.”
Devan shook her head. “Forced him to drop his weapon?”
“Is it wise to start this now?” asked Kent, reaching into the mini-bar for a bottle of water.
Langston just smiled and approached his duffel bag before heading for the bathroom. “I am hungry, my friend. Perhaps we should dress and have breakfast.”
Kent and Devan looked at each other a long moment before he finally broke their stare and tilted his head back to gulp deeply from his water bottle. Again she was struck by how sexy he seemed to her, his shirt stuck to his chest and little droplets inching their way down his calves to be soaked up by the cuff of his white socks. The draw she felt towards him at the moment was raw, almost animalistic, and she had to force her eyes closed before she could make herself turn away from him.
Boomchikawowow.
Devan rolled her eyes and shook her head.
Devan carefully used her hands to smooth down the back of her beige pencil skirt as she seated herself on the settee just outside one of the hotel’s meeting rooms. Anxiety bubbled in her stomach as she tried to nonchalantly thumb through a conference program. She noticed the front of her cardigan was bunched up so she tugged at the hem to straighten it. She was chewing on the inside of her mouth and lip and silently cursing herself for being so fidgety. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her back and worked to present some semblance of calm.
She’d been advised by Kent that she was to stay put until he came for her. He’d refused to give her any details of what would go on inside the meeting room. All she knew was that he and Gerry would enter the meeting as attendees and that Langston and Nicky would sneak in through alternate means. When asked what her role would be, Kent had abruptly called her a “lookout.” Looking out for what? she’d asked. He’d either been unwilling or unable to answer that question.
Just before they’d left their hotel room, Langston had touched her arm softly. When she’d turned to him, he looked down at her with a serious expression. “Trust, little one. You will know if you see something amiss.”
Gerry still hadn’t made an appearance, and as she continued pretending to read the conference program, she wondered if he and Kent would go into the meeting together or separately. She’d been appalled by the idea that they would just march right in, as surely the attendees would be a very carefully monitored and select crowd. Kent said that the name tags they’d fabricated were intended only to allow them to blend in with the crowd. Hiding in plain sight, he’d said. Getting into the meeting was more complicated and tricky, but he hadn’t been willing to share the details.
Devan’s mouth nearly fell open when she saw Kent approaching her. No, not approaching her, but the door beside which she was sitting. Her brow wrinkled into an intense frown as she followed him with her eyes. But it wasn’t Kent that had her so flabbergasted, although he did look good enough to devour dressed like he was like a wealthy businessman in a custom-tailored suit. No, it was the very leggy, curvy redhead attached to his arm that astounded her. No introductions were necessary–she knew instantly that this drop-dead gorgeous woman was Gerry. And she knew on the spot why Kent had breathed nary a word to her about his fourth compatriot.
Gerry is a woman? Devan hissed to herself as she shook her head. Kent had restricted information about her for a reason and she could pretty much figure why. Gerry looked good enough to be on the cover of Cosmo. Not only was she incredibly sexy, but she knew it. She confidently wore a royal blue sheath that reached to just below her knees and hugged her body in all the right places. Over the top of the dress and nearly as long was draped a lace jacket, the dual ensemble presenting the suggestive look of lingerie. She carried herself with assurance, swaying her hips perfectly with each step and pressing forward her bust like an offering. The way she had her hands wrapped around Kent’s arm clearly spoke of possession.
Realizing she was staring, Devan forced her eyes back to her program and waited for them to pass. The redhead tapped at the door to the meeting room, and after a moment wherein some sort of confirmation took place, they were finally admitted. Devan had been watching the same routine happen again and again as different people arrived for the select assembly. She’d seen one little man with hugely thick glasses get turned away when he’d not met whatever protocol they were using. As he’d passed her he’d muttered about being unable to “find anything in this damn hotel.”
So now, here she sat, unsure of what to do and fuming with the memory of the steamy kiss she’d shared just the previous night with Kent. She wondered if he’d laughed to himself about his method of keeping her calm. He hadn’t been able to charm her to sleep, but he’d damn sure been able to kiss her so breathless she couldn’t think straight.
Suddenly a strange pain stabbed behind her eyes. It was a physical attack, as if a sharp object were being jabbed continually into her head. She immediately brought her left hand to her temple, rubbing, trying to assuage the hurt, but it continued, increasing to delve deeper and deeper into her mind.
“Ma’am, are you all right?” a young woman asked, gently touching her arm.
Devan nodded, holding one hand up in a halting gesture, hoping the girl would leave her be. “Yes, just a headache. I’m fine.”
Something was wrong. Devan knew something was terribly wrong. And it wasn’t just the pain in her head. Something was wrong in that room. She knew must get in there. Her eyes were watering now with the pain, but she blinked the tears away and stood abruptly. She took a moment to overcome a wave of vertigo. The program fluttered from her lap and to the floor. Then she scanned the crowded hallway, looking for someone, anyone she knew–looking for anyone she might detect would do harm.
Trust. You will know if anything is amiss. Langston had told her to trust herself, but Kent had clearly ordered her to stay outside. She approached the door to the meeting room and held her hand just inches from the latch. Kent’s instructions were to wait. She might have flexed her mettle somewhat with him previously, but she knew he’d meant business when he’d told her to stay there. She didn’t even have a weapon. What would she do if there was danger?
“Shit!” she muttered to herself, jiggling the latch, not surprised to find it locked. She tapped on the door, just as she’d seen Gerry do
earlier, but nothing happened. No response. The stabbing continued behind her eyes and she felt her knees buckle a little from the pain even as she took a sharp breath in through her mouth. She jerked on the latch again, desperate to get inside.
The pounding wouldn’t stop and dizziness began to take over. She felt a rippling tingle travel from her stomach down to her knees and then she sank to the ground, leaning into the door so that she wouldn’t tumble completely prostrate. And that was when she knew that if it didn’t stop it would kill her. Whatever the stabbing was, whatever was causing it would take her life–but she wasn’t ready to give in.
Without thinking, she reached up and began to slide the rubber band holding her hair slowly down the length of her curly tresses–she felt some of the strands tear loose as she pulled harder until all of her head of brown curls were free from restraint. With trembling fingers she ruffled the curls and felt a static charge, an energy begin to build as they danced and tussled against one another.
As the energy welled up within her, she reached out that same shaking hand towards the door, palm flat against it. She sucked a breath into her lungs and felt the air burn into her as she inhaled deeper and deeper until she couldn’t hold any more. Another jab tore through her mind and a groan welled up at the back of her throat. That groan burst forth from her lips even as she shoved against the door and the lock exploded, shredding the wood to pieces.
Her legs nearly failed her as she struggled to stand back up before stumbling into the room. Her focus had been drawn so completely within herself that she wasn’t fully aware of what was happening around her. She was still trying to find her bearings when an arm snaked out to grab her around the neck. Instinctively she brought her hands up to pull the arm away, but her attacker was strong and she was still lightheaded. His other arm slipped around her waist, lifting her off the ground, and she began kicking, urgently trying to escape.
The Bend-Bite-Shift Box Set Page 5
