by J. R. Ward
Perfect aim.
Splash!
But that wasn't the point.
As the wet bomb went off, drenching the angel's face and all of his blond-and-black hair, Rhage grabbed on to the male and ripped him right off his feet, landing him back-flat on the ground--and then he double-palmed him by the neck like he was prepared to choke the life out of the immortal.
Or...something like that. Whatever.
Mary rushed over. "Rhage--"
"What the hell did you do to her! Where are her casts!"
But then the mom in her made Mary switch gears. "Yeah, what the hell! She's not supposed to be out of them for six weeks! And not even walking!"
Lassiter tried to answer, but his crushed windpipe wouldn't let any air out. Bitty was the one who solved the mystery.
"He healed my arms and legs! Don't hurt him! He made them better--honest! Don't hurt him, Father."
Instantly, Rhage released Lassiter and then fell back on his butt as if he realized the show of violence might have triggered memories.
But Bitty didn't seem worried about that. "See?" She hopped from one foot to another. Spun around with her arms out. Laughed in a happy giggle. "All better!"
As Mary watched the show and then looked at the angel, she had a passing thought that she was kind of done with surprises for the night. "What...what did you do to her?"
Bitty spoke up for her buddy again. On account of the coughing and the gasping. "He just sent sunshine to my arms and legs. He put his hand over the casts, without even touching them, and there was this heat...and then, I don't know, nothing hurt at all. We sawed off the fiberglass in the garage. That was the coolest part."
Okay, now Mary was light-headed--and she had to take a load off on the floor. "You did what with a saw?"
When Lassiter finally lifted his head, he was red-faced, but no longer doing an impression of a rescued swimmer. "I didn't like her suffering."
"See?" Bitty said. "So don't be mad at him."
Mary shook her head. "I don't understand--"
"Why the fuck did you let them break her bones," Rhage snapped. "If you could do something like this, why the hell did you stand by while she was tortured in that exam room."
Lassiter sat all the way up, his oddly colored, pupil-less eyes not shying from Rhage's hard stare in the slightest. "It is not my job to affect destiny. That I cannot change without exacting proper balance, and sometimes the cost for the gift is worse than not giving it in the first place."
Mary thought of the bargain that Rhage had made for her to live, before the Scribe Virgin had learned she couldn't have children; the one where, for her cancer to have been cured, he would have had to never, ever see her or talk to her again, in spite of the fact that they were in love.
Balance was the way of the universe.
"But"--the fallen angel held up his forefinger--"that doesn't mean I can't cushion the fall of fate's dominoes. If you get what I mean. Easing the pain without changing the course? That I can do."
Bitty smiled. "And I'd much rather be running around now as opposed to six weeks from now. Besides, those casts were itchy already. And bathing? Ugh."
Mary found herself blinking back tears as she squeezed Lassiter's forearm. "Thank you."
"Shit," Rhage breathed. "I'm sorry. And shit, I shouldn't have said 'shit.' Fuck. I mean...damn it."
As her hellren skidded to a halt with the cursing, Mary felt like breaking down--and Bitty clearly sensed it, bending low with a hug.
"I'm okay. I know you guys worry." Bitty smiled as she tugged Rhage to his feet. "Come on, let's go have Last Meal--and before you tell me to clean up the mess, Fritz doesn't let us."
Right on cue, a whirring started to fill the foyer.
"He loves his wet vac," Lassiter said. "Don't that sound dirty?"
"Not in front of my kid it doesn't," Rhage muttered.
Everybody turned to the butler, who, sure enough, had fired up the canister-and-vacuum combination and was cheerfully sucking up the splashes on the mosaic floor in his formal black and white uniform. He paused and looked concerned.
Turning the wand off, he inquired, "Does anyone require aught? Last Meal is going to be served in ten minutes. Perhaps a libation?"
"We're good, Fritz," Rhage said, sounding exhausted. "But thanks, man."
The doggen bowed deeply and then resumed his sucking. Which, Lassiter was right, did sound dirty.
"Come on, Father, you've got to be hungry." Bitty pulled at Rhage's arm. "Right, Mom?"
God, that hurt. Those names...were like broken glass in her heart.
"Yes," she said slowly. "I imagine he should be eating something right now."
That didn't mean he wanted to, however. And yet Rhage could not deny the little girl, and the two of them went off for the dining room, a tiny sprite who had her mobility back skipping next to a mountain of a male who was walking like he was half dead.
Mary jumped when a hand to help her off the floor appeared in front of her face. Lassiter was back up on his Nikes and staring down at her from his great height with a somber expression.
Abruptly, the fact that the butler was wet-vac'ing up the remnants of a water balloon fight became crystal clear, largely because the grand and colorful foyer--with its malachite and red marble columns and its three-story-high painted ceiling and its grand fireplace and great stairway--was exactly where you didn't ever want to have one.
Meeting the eyes of the angel, she said, "You knew, didn't you."
"That Fritz was going to love the wet vac?"
"That her uncle was going to show up and that Rhage and I were coming home a mess. You knew the distraction was going to help."
"Oh," he made a pshaw motion with the hand she had yet to take. "I'm not that smart."
"And you couldn't stand to see her in pain any more than the rest of us could."
After a moment, Lassiter sank down onto his haunches next to her. Reaching out to her face, he brushed one side of it with his right hand and the other with his left.
Then he made a pair of fists and squeezed hard enough to make all the veins pop up in his heavy forearms. A second later, he unfurled his hands. In the center of both his palms, there was a faceted diamond, the two gemstones reflecting the light around them with rainbow flashes.
"A mother's tears," he whispered. "So hard...so beautiful."
"I'm not her mother," Mary choked out. "Oh, God...I'm not really her mother."
"Yes, you are. And I'll keep these so that I can give them back to you when this is over."
"He's going to be real. I can feel it. The uncle...is real."
"Maybe so." Lassiter stood up again. "But why don't I keep these just in case, 'kay?"
He strolled off, hair dripping, clothes a mess, all that gold jewelry he wore like part of the sun stuck with him even when he was indoors.
Mary looked at the archway through which Rhage and Bitty had disappeared.
When she felt like she could walk that far...she got up...and did.
he following evening, Elise was in her bathroom, blow-drying her hair, when her phone started shimmying across the marble counter.
She went for the thing so fast, she nearly fumbled her Conair right onto the floor.
But it wasn't Axe.
"Finally," she said as she turned off the dryer.
"What kind of hello is that?" the male voice demanded over the connection.
"The kind you give somebody who takes this long to call back."
Peyton, son of Peythone, cursed softly. "I'm sorry. I've been busy. But I'm all yours now. You okay?"
She turned away from the mirror and leaned her butt against the counter. It was hot in her fuzzy pink bathrobe, but she was keeping the thing on: Even though they weren't FaceTiming, it didn't seem right to be naked while she talked to her cousin.
"Why did you try and buy off Axe?"
There was a silence. "So this is about your new bodyguard, huh."
"That was really insulting to him
."
"Lemme ask you a question, here. Exactly who do you think is guarding you? Do you know anything about him?"
"Is that a leading question? If it is, just answer it already, will you. I don't want to play games."
"Elise, your family has already lost so much--"
"Spare me. I'm living in this house, okay? Like I don't know how much people are hurting?"
"Yeah, and I was the one who had to look Allishon's parents in the eye when I told them she was dead."
"Are we really competing over my cousin's death here? Really?"
"Elise..." There was a long muttering. "Look, I'm not going to argue with you."
"Good, because I feel safe around Axe. He's been nothing but a gentlemale to me. And I don't appreciate you disrespecting him by trying to bribe him over something that is none of your business."
"You are my business."
"No, I'm not. I'm your third cousin. That's it." As silence stretched out, she was beyond frustrated. "Maybe I shouldn't have called."
"Maybe." He cursed. "I gotta go. I have to get ready for class--you want me to tell your boy you said hello?"
"Why are you being like this? And he's not my boy."
"Good luck with him. You're going to need it--"
"No, you don't get to do this. You either tell me what you're really worried about or you cop to being an ass because you're being overprotective. Those are your two options, Peyton. What you do not get to do is play this smoke-and-mirrors game, and then huff off like you're being offended by my behavior."
There was a pause. And then the laughter was rueful. "And this is why I could never date you. Cousin thing aside."
"Well, I'm not asking you to, so there's also that."
"Fine, I'm being overprotective and I have no right to be. There."
Elise exhaled and smiled a little. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"
"So I am told." Peyton exhaled. "Look, I know people like us don't talk about these things, but that shit with Allishon is still with me. I can't...I can't get it out of my mind. And yes, I realize it's making me a little psychotic. I just...I'm not sleeping, I'm--my head's all fucked. It's been rough."
Elise dropped her voice to a whisper. "I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault. God, not at all."
"What happened to her? No one will tell me. Nobody will say anything other than she died out in the human world. They haven't even done a Fade ceremony for her. It's like she was here--and then she was gone, as if she never existed. And meanwhile, my aunt never leaves her room, and my uncle wanders around aimlessly....I would love to help or understand or...just finally know what happened."
There was a long pause. "Peyton? You still there? Hello?"
"I saw what was done to her. I saw...the violence that killed her."
"Oh, my God, Peyton..."
"I wasn't the one who found her. But I was the one who found out...what was done to her."
"No wonder you're struggling." Elise covered her mouth with her palm. "I had no idea."
"She wasn't killed by a human. It was one of us."
"Who?" she breathed.
Peyton cleared his throat. "Okay, I'm not being a dick right now, and I don't want to end this all abruptly, but I really do have to get ready. Can we meet up and talk in person sometime?"
She thought of her date with Axe. "Tomorrow night?"
"I have it off. I'll come to you."
"Better that I go to your place. Especially if we're going to be talking about her. I don't want anybody to overhear anything."
"Fine. And Elise, I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"I don't know. I'll see you tomorrow. Come when you can, I'll just be hanging in my room."
"See you then."
Just as she hung up, a strange tremor went through her body--and at first, she assumed it was from what she and Peyton had been discussing. But then...no, that wasn't it.
Putting the phone down, she looked around, but come on. It wasn't like someone was lurking in a darkened corner--in her all-white marble bathroom that had all its overhead lights on.
Leaving her phone behind, she went out into her bedroom. Glanced in all the corners, of which none were dark because she had all the lights on in there as well.
Except she wasn't exactly scared.
More like pricklingly aware--
"Axe?" she said out loud.
Even though Elise was in her pink bathrobe, she padded out into the hall. Followed the instinct down to the main staircase. Proceeded to the first floor--
Fresh air. Someone had just come into the house.
And...Axe's scent. It had been he who had been let in. Moreover, thanks to the blood she'd taken from him the night before, she knew precisely where he was.
Snapping her head to the left, she saw that her father's study was closed up.
Making no sound at all, she whispered over the marble floor to the parlor that was located behind his private work space. Inside, the peach-and-silver loveliness of the wallpaper and the drapes was lost on her as she went to a built-in shelving expanse that had a scalloped top and Herend figurines of roosters and waterfowl and other birds of all kinds on its levels.
The release was hidden on the right at shoulder height, the kind of thing you couldn't see and wouldn't guess at--and when she toggled it, the entire unit, built some hundred and fifty years before, unhinged from the wall and slid soundlessly to the side.
Stepping into the hidden passageway, she pulled an old-fashioned metal cord with a wooden handle on the end...and back the shelves went, moving so seamlessly that the priceless porcelain collection wasn't disturbed in the slightest.
The space was cramped and dank, but not cold, and there was enough light from the seams of the molding high above that she made her way forward about five feet...to a set of wooden steps that led up the back of a wall.
She was careful as put her slippers on the slatted wood. She didn't weigh a ton, but she was worried about creaking sounds giving her away. Once on the highest step, she reached up to a slide that was roughly at eye level.
When she moved it aside, she could see out into her father's study, visualizing the fire across the way, the desk, her father's figure...and Axe, who was sitting across the desk from her sire.
Yes, she was staring out of the "eyes" of a portrait. Just like in the movies.
Her mother had cut the holes in the painting herself--and her father had nearly fainted. But oh, her mahmen had been able to get away with things like that with him.
She'd been the only one who could.
If Elise was careful not to breathe heavily, and if she concentrated on drowning out the sounds in the ductwork and the soft whistle of a breeze in the rafters, she could hear them speaking.
Her father was just sitting down, which would make sense. Clearly she had become aware of Axe's presence the instant he'd entered her home.
And by extrapolation, he would soon guess where she was--
Sure enough, he frowned and looked across directly at her. His expression was one of almost annoyance, as if he couldn't figure out why the hell he'd been distracted by a two-hundred-year-old portrait of some old vampire in formal dress.
"Thank you for coming," her father said as he pulled his cuff links into proper position under the sleeves of his navy blue suit jacket. "I gather that your first evening with my daughter went satisfactorily."
Cue a quick image of her naked, stretched out in front of Axe's fire, his mouth and hands--
Okay, that needed to stop right now.
Axe glanced at her father. Looked back at the portrait. Refocused. "She came home safely."
"For that I am most grateful." Her father smiled, and seemed sincere. "She is my heart. She reminds me so much of her mother. A fiery spirit, a fierce intellect, afraid of so little. That is also why I worry."
"And why you hired me."
"Indeed." Felixe cleared his throat. "On that note, I should like to expand your duties."
"How so."
"I will never put her under sehclusion. She would not do well with that. And I am aware that she must leave the house for other reasons than her studies from time to time. Mayhap for a festival or a get-together of females of her station."
Yeah, right...because she was really looking to go out and have her nails done with a bunch of get-mated-obsessed Barbies?
She'd much rather save the money, keep her toenails to herself, and read through her dissertation paper one more time.
"I should like her to find a suitor."
Elise frowned. Oh, hell no.
"Do you have one in mind?" Axe asked.
"There are a number of appropriate males whose families are looking for them to settle down. She is of age and then some. It is time, but I am certain if I state that I support the prospect in any way, she shall rebel. So I am in a very difficult situation."
"What do you want to do about it?"
"I am aware that she left the house last night. I do not know where she went. She did not arrange for you to escort her to school--or you would have sent me your hours as we agreed and you did the evening before."
"You want me to follow her. Even when she's not in school."
"And tell me where she goes. I will pay you, of course."
Axe shifted in the chair, crossing his legs, ankle on knee. He glanced over to the painting again. Looked back. "I have training. I can't be with her twenty-four/seven."
"I had a GPS program installed in her phone. My butler is rather electronically adept. He can monitor where she goes and provide you with coordinates."
"But again, what if I'm in class."
"You could investigate where she goes afterward. On your time off."
"Let me get this straight. You don't want her under sehclusion, but you want to know where she goes, and if I can't be there, you want me to pretend to be a P.I. and figure out what she was doing and with who?"
"Yes." Felixe smiled with relief. "Exactly."
Damn it, Father, she thought. And of course Axe was going to do it. He'd maintained he needed the job, and more money was always better--
Axe got to his feet. "Sorry. That's not for me."
"What?" her father said.
What? she thought.
"Look, I'm good with being her bodyguard. But sneaking around behind her back and reporting to you what she does, just so you can use it against her, isn't my thing. If you're so concerned with what she's doing and who she's seeing, you need to ask her yourself. Your daughter is one of the most up-front people I've ever met. She'll tell you. She's honest like that, even if it's a hard discussion."
