Bound to His Redemption

by Lisa Kumar

  After a particularly nasty retort from Eamon, Andrian growled and leaned forward slightly. He flashed a knife from out of seemingly nowhere, waving it in front of his opponent’s face. “Shut your mouth before I silence it permanently.”

  Oh, shit.

  An equally impressive snarl formed on Eamon’s lips before he pulled out his own blade from where he had it secreted on his person.

  Caralyn automatically scooted her chair back, though her limbs shook and protested the movement. God, they were crazy. “Put those away, guys. There’ll be no bloodshed in my home.”

  Eamon’s gaze flashed to her. “Caralyn, go with Archie into the living room.”

  Fear fought with bristling agitation. “No.”

  “No?” Eamon questioned softly, dangerously, as he returned his full attention to the other elf.

  “I won’t allow you to do this, either of you.”

  Andrian gave a bark of ice-cold laughter. “Mortal woman, you can’t stop me from doing anything unless I concede it.” He rammed his knife tip-first into the table, the action producing a soft thunk.

  Caralyn cringed against the back of her chair and couldn’t rip her gaze away from the blade. Shock held her immobile. That ... that was going to leave a nasty mark in the tabletop.

  Eamon flew across the table at the other male and had the neck of his tunic wound in his fists. The force lifted Andrian out of his seat. “What in Eria are you doing?” he shouted. “Do something like that again, and I will disembowel you.”

  She nearly choked at the frozen steel in his words. He sounded completely serious. The harsh rage covering his face seemed to convey the same thing. It was scary ... and reassuring.

  With a final sound of disgust, Eamon shoved him away. Before Andrian could drop back into his seat, he shoved away from the table and ripped out the dagger. The tip left a deep gouge that might as well have been the Grand Canyon — it seemed nearly as insurmountable to take in at that moment.

  Breathing deeply, Andrian stared at the knife and then turned a conflicted gaze to her. “You have my apologies, kind hostess. I lost control of myself, and that won’t happen around you again. You” — he pointed to Eamon with the blade end — “I make no such promises to.”

  “I wouldn’t expect it.”

  Andrian’s eyes glittered. “Good.” With that, he stalked out the kitchen, leaving behind a relieved if flabbergasted Caralyn and an upset-looking Eamon. She hadn’t moved from her seat, but he’d gotten up to pace.

  “Be careful of his moods, Caralyn. They switch even faster than mine. You think I’m dangerous, but so is he.”

  She brushed a strand of her hair out of her eyes with a shaking hand. “I see that.” Andrian’s mood was just as volatile, if not more so, than Eamon’s. They both liked using knives threateningly and were going to give her whiplash due to their behavior — if they didn’t kill her first.

  Eamon stared at her as if trying to ascertain the truthful nature of her quick agreement with him. “Make sure you really do see that.”

  She furrowed her brow. Was that concern? For her?

  When Andrian strode into the kitchen again, her trail of thought ended. A calm air rested about him now, all the rage having apparently dissipated in the living room. Even Eamon seemed to realize the change right away, and some of the tension seeped from his tense form.

  Andrian walked to the counter and eyed the snack cakes she had lying there. “I would like something sweet. May I have one of these?”

  Caralyn blinked. “Uh, sure. Take what you want.”

  Eamon scoffed and leaned a hip against the chair he’d been sitting in earlier. “Feed sugar to the beast, and he’ll calm right down.”

  Grabbing one of the cakes, Andrian gave him a feral smile. “Telling her how to tame you?”

  “She knows how to make me purr, and it’s not by plying me with sweets.”

  Andrian pulled a face and held up a hand. “Spare me the gory details. You’re turning my stomach.”

  “Then go eat elsewhere.”

  “I think not.” In a deliberate movement, Andrian pulled out a chair and sat.

  Eamon stiffened but remained where he was.

  Ok, that was it. She was getting up and wouldn’t be trapped in their antagonism. A headache was already pounding at her door, and she wasn’t about to let them make it worse. After gathering the dishes, she marched over to the sink. The warm water soothed her scorched nerves, and she closed her eyes for a second. Well, the meal was over, and there’d been no death or gore, though it had been close a time or two.

  Eamon and Andrian still sat at the table, not seeming to know what to do with themselves, so they defaulted to the normal behavior of glowering at each other.

  The utensils and cookware were all in the dishwasher now. She glanced around the kitchen and nook, trying to avoid looking at the two elves. But there was nothing for it. She didn’t have anything else to clean.

  What could she do with them for the rest of the day to keep them from killing each other? And for the rest of the week? Shit, this was Sunday, which meant she had work tomorrow. She couldn’t call off sick. Until Aistiane came through with those bank accounts, Caralyn needed to get her hands on as much money as she could.

  Turning from the sink, she pushed her nervousness down and eyed Andrian speculatively. He had on a tunic and leggings — Erian attire, not a human one. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Do you have clothes that would allow you to blend in here better?” Seeing his blank expression, she elaborated. “Jeans, t-shirts, button-downs, and sneakers?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what those all are.”

  That was what she thought. “We’ll go to the mall and get you some clothes.” The mall she’d never be able to look at the same again. She fought back a creeping blush.

  “You want to come along?” she asked Eamon, hoping both for a yes and no for myriad reasons.

  He lifted a brow. “Of course, as if I would leave you alone with him and trust him out in the human world.”

  Caralyn ignored Andrian’s snorted huff and stared at Eamon, not sure if he was worried about her or inferring that she couldn’t handle Andrian on her own. “I took you out without any mishaps.”

  Well, if she discounted the dressing-room romp, which didn’t give her the best track record. And she’s taken him, all right. What a choice of words to use. Worse, damn it, was why she couldn’t stop thinking about their interlude. Forcing herself to speak evenly, she shrugged. “So if you want to stay behind, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

  Somehow, he managed to look up at her yet look down his nose. “I’m going,” he said, his tone snotty and firm. “I’ve seen how you take people to the mall.”

  Chapter 21

  Early Monday evening, Caralyn glanced at the wall clock from where she was sitting in the physical therapy room and shook her leg anxiously. She’d just finished with her last client of the day and was she ever glad.

  She sighed, staring at the laptop in front of her as if it could offer her all the answers she needed. But the only way she’d get those was to finish up these daily encounter notes and then head back home. To what, she didn’t know. And she was scared to find out.

  Aistiane had picked the wrong woman for this endeavor.

  Ignoring the other therapists and assistants working with their clients, she doubled up her efforts to get the paperwork done. Keeping her mind focused was impossible, though.

  An officer from the police station had called to update her. Her would-be rapist was cooperating, so there was no need for them to speak further with Caralyn at the moment. Now, if only her elf problem was so easily rectified.

  The darned elves hadn’t picked up the phone whenever she’d called. She even left two — okay, four — voice messages. Each instance had ratcheted up her worried agitation further. What if they were fighting? If one was hurt or dead? Maybe both were dead? Ha, as if she’d get so lucky. Would they get bored and go exploring? God, she hoped not. They
could land themselves in so much trouble.

  Even taking them to the mall had been a lesson on just how much chaos they could cause. Since they were extremely good looking, women — and men — stared. Some even stalked them. Apparently, their black-and-blue faces lent a rugged air that made them all the hotter. Caralyn had thought a few times that one or both elves were going to spill blood. They didn’t mind the gawking woman, but when an awe-struck man came too close, they both acted in the same way — dramatically and with barely suppressed violence. Truthfully, though, their attitude toward the men seemed to have more to do with them being human than them being bisexual or gay.

  When she later asked them about gays in Eria, they said there were some who had such an orientation. These relationships were widely accepted back in their homeland, though both Eamon and Andrian were firmly heterosexual. However, they seemed to have no judgment against those who weren’t. So, yeah, their problem seemed to be with human men in general. Joy, oh, joy. As if hating one group of people weren’t enough, they hated a whole species, especially the male portion of it.

  To top it all off, before bed, Eamon had been prepared to throw a fit worthy of a toddler about any changes in the sleeping arrangement. She shook her head. It hadn’t been like she was going to kick him out of her room or even her bed, but for some reason when faced with Andrian’s presence, he thought she would. She was smart enough to realize that making them both sleep in the living room was just asking for murder and mayhem. Still, it hadn’t prevented Eamon from loudly saying in front of Andrian that he’d sleep in her bed and nowhere else.

  Just the remembrance caused an embarrassed flush to sweep up her neck. Sure, Andrian already knew she and Eamon had been intimate, but having Eamon state it in black and white was something she wasn’t used to. She wasn’t used to sex with anybody, and now to have it public knowledge ... Now it only had to be announced at work for her mortification to be utterly complete.

  Caralyn sighed again and stared blankly at a wall. Samantha Chang, her manager, looked up from her middle-aged female client and called across the room, “Just about done with your notes? You look ready to get out of here.”

  “Bolt” was more like it. “Yes, just about. I’ve had a busy, stressful weekend. Company, you know?”

  “Do I ever!” Samantha leaned over to massage her patient’s shoulder, whom she talked to for a few moments, before addressing Caralyn again. “When my in-laws come, I’m as tense as a tightrope. I want to stay at work as much as possible.”

  “Believe me, I would love to, but I can’t leave them alone much longer. I’m afraid the apartment building won’t be standing by the time I return.”

  “That bad, huh? Relatives?”

  Caralyn nearly squirmed, not wanting to lie but knowing she couldn’t tell the exact truth. Damn, she should’ve thought up a story last night. It was insane to think someone wouldn’t find out about them. “They’re old friends of the family, but they’re not old.

  “Two girlfriends, then?”

  “Um, no. Two guys that can cause a lot of havoc.” That wasn’t a lie.

  Samantha wiggled her black brows as she lifted her head for a moment. “Ooh, are they handsome?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ve got to meet them!”

  Caralyn narrowed her eyes at Samantha. “You’re married.”

  “Hey, I just want to check them out for you. Nothing wrong with that, right, Rachel?” she asked, looking down at her client.

  The redhead smiled from where she lay on her back and nodded. “Not at all.”

  A flush heated up Caralyn’s face. “They’re not my type.”

  Samantha’s brows rose. “Handsome men not your type?”

  They were not really men. “Okay, I’m not their type.” That was probably true, even with what had happened with Eamon. If he had elvin women at his fingertips, he wouldn’t have looked at her twice.

  “So they’re just good friends.”

  “Yeah.” Hopefully, Samantha was too busy to notice the inflection in her voice. Caralyn stared down at her hands, hating all the lying she was doing.

  “Well, hurry and get those notes done so you can get out of here.”

  “Yes, my lord and master.”

  Samantha laughed. “You’ve finally learned my proper title.”

  Even from across the room, Caralyn could see the infectious glint in her manager’s pretty almond-shaped eyes. She let a real smile curve her lips. “We shouldn’t be having this much fun at work.”

  “Pssh. Who says work has to be boring?”

  After a few more traded words, Caralyn settled back down. She worked for a few more minutes before she finally clicked out of the software program and clocked out. Within a few minutes, she was heading out the door, with Samantha calling out to her that she had to bring her two handsome guests to the work holiday party that was coming up on the third Saturday of the month. Ugh, yeah, right.

  Sinking her hands deeper into her coat pockets, she gave a grim smile. Maybe she could use the threat of making them go to ensure they behaved. Though if they did actually go, it’d probably be more of a punishment to her than to them.

  The physical therapy office was a ten-minute drive from her apartment when traffic was light. A light snow was falling, and that made travel a bit slower, but it also seemed to keep more people inside.

  After the longest — and conversely the shortest — twelve minute drive of her life, she pulled up behind her apartment. Soon, she was running to the nearest building entrance, shivering with each step. Hopefully, one of the elves had taken Archie out so she wouldn’t have to do it again until right before bed. Wisconsin winters and being a dog owner didn’t always go nicely hand in hand.

  After punching in her floor on the elevator, she slouched for a brief second before straightening up. She couldn’t let them see her weak. They’d smell blood and circle her like sharks.

  She stood outside her door before she knew it. Now was the time of truth — and maybe reckoning. With her hand on the knob, she turned it and found the door locked. So they kept it bolted like she told them to.

  As she fished out her keys, the door abruptly opened, revealed an almost stressed-looking Eamon. He glanced at her before pulling her inside. “Thank Eria you’re here. I was about to murder the bastard.”

  What in the world? She stared around Eamon, half afraid she’d find Andrian tied up or knocked out. Said elf lounged on the sofa, his eyes open to a slit. “Indeed, it’s good you’re back. I feared to sleep, not sure if I’d ever wake up again.”

  “That can be arranged even when Caralyn’s here.”

  She ignored their bickering, instead glancing around the foyer and living room. Everything looked in place and in one piece, but something seemed off. Oh, that’s right. There are two elves in the room. That definitely could have something to do with it.

  Then she zeroed in on Eamon. Why was his right hand behind his back? He shifted closer to the bookcase, and his hand snaked out and replaced a little yet heavy statue on the shelf.

  Huh, had he been rearranging the stuff on the shelf, or had he been looking for something sturdy to chuck at Andrian’s head? Quite possibly both since some of the things on the shelf had swapped places. She saw no reason for him to secret the heaviest piece behind his back unless he’d been up to no good.

  She stripped off her gloves and coat before thinking maybe she shouldn’t have been so hasty. “Where’s Archie?”

  Eamon nodded toward the back of the apartment. “That furry beast you call a dog is napping in the kitchen.” Seeing her open her mouth, he rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry. No harm came to him. I recently took him out for a walk.” His nostrils flared, and he glared at her. “I even picked up his ... waste with a plastic sack the way you instructed and threw it in the garbage bin outside.”

  Andrian chortled. “You’re picking up shit instead of causing it. Will wonders never cease?”

  “You can have dog duty if you don’t
shut up.”

  “And take that coveted job away from you?”

  Eamon’s eyes widened innocently. “Oh, I forgot you wanted to clean the toilets. That really is your sort of task.” Turning his back on Andrian, he took a few steps toward Caralyn. “We’re — Well, I’m hungry. I don’t care if he is. You’ll cook dinner now?”

  Caralyn blinked. Had he just asked instead of demanded? The way he’d phrased it could go either way, but there’d been a slight questioning tone that made her think the latter. “Yeah, after I change into something more comfortable.”

  Eamon raked an interested stare over her. “I could help you with that.”

  Warmth filled Caralyn’s face. After Andrian’s arrival, Eamon had been off-center enough for a few hours that he’d made no suggestive comments. But he’d slowly been reverting back to his normal innuendos.

  She cleared her throat. “No help required.” Unfortunately, her cheeks weren’t the only areas heating up.

  “I don’t mind.”

  Exasperation warred with a silly, giddy feeling. His disarming smile could fluster her like nothing else. She forgot how to speak for a good ten seconds. Her mind and body might as well be mush. Worse, his ever-widening grin showed her that he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

  Fixing a calm expression to her face, she shook her head. “We’ve been over this before. I know you don’t mind, but I do. I need some privacy.”

  A snort came from Andrian, who still hadn’t moved from the couch. “You do know he rearranged all the drawers in your bedroom and closet?”

  “What?” Caralyn felt her face go slack and her eyes bulge.

  Eamon shrugged. “I was bored. And while yours wasn’t the most disorganized bedroom I’ve ever seen, it was left wanting.”

  She could only gawk at him. How could she have just had sexy feelings for him but a minute ago? Now, all she wanted to do was strangle him with a bra from one of her sure-to-be highly organized drawers.

  Without saying a word, she stalked to her room. Her door was slightly ajar, so she flung it open easily. It collided with the doorstop with such strength that the door nearly bounced closed.