Lover Unveiled, page 14
On the wrong side of the good guys.
“So how’d you sleep?” Murhder put his holsters aside and then swung by the kitchen table, laying a huge hand on Nate’s shoulder.
“Good.” Chew. Chew. Sip. “I’mjustgoingtofinishthisandheadintowork.”
“I’m glad that job’s going well.” His dad opened the cupboard over the K-cups machine and got out a mug with a snooty Englishman on it and the word “WANKER” underneath the etching. “And you’re doing a service to the race. The young males and females who’ll live there need the shelter.”
Nate tried to plug into the conversation. “I don’t get it, though. They’re going to be by themselves?”
Images of human frat houses made him wonder whether all that new furniture they were moving in was going to last long.
“No, there’ll be social workers on-site.” Murhder put the mug in the machine and fired up things with a pod of Green Mountain Breakfast Blend. “Safe Place doesn’t allow males past their transitions under its roof—which, considering it’s a domestic violence resource for females and their young, makes total sense. But there are families that need to be kept together and kids just starting out on their own. So Luchas House is going to be good for the race.”
“Mmm.” Chew. Chew.
There was a wheezing sound as the coffee finished coming out. Then the tinking of a spoon as his dad stirred in his sugar. Finally…
“Ahhhhhhh.”
Funny how this was now normal, this ritual of the pair of them with their coffee. Nate had gotten used to it all so fast. This was… home. And Murhder and Sarah were his family.
And sometimes he felt so lucky he cried alone in his room, holding a pillow to his face so no one could hear him.
Except that was not what was on his mind tonight.
“You okay, son?”
Nate looked up, all ready with an I’m-fine. But the way those eyes were staring at him? What he was selling was not going to be bought—and there was no way he was going to go into the truth. He was so busy denying it to himself, he couldn’t imagine saying the words out loud.
But he did have something to talk about.
“Did you…” He cleared his throat. “Ah, did you ask Shuli to protect me?”
Murhder’s brows crashed down over his eyes. “Protect you? Like an ahstrux nohtrum?”
“I’m not sure what that is.”
“It’s a bodyguard with a lifetime contract.” Murhder put his palm out and waved it like he was erasing a bad idea on a whiteboard. “And no offense to your buddy—he’s a perfectly fine young male—but he’s not exactly tip-of-the-spear material, if you know what I mean. I’d pick a good Doberman pinscher over him any night if I was worried about your safety.”
“Oh.” Nate got up and went to the dishwasher with his plate and mug. “Okay.”
“What’s going on, son.”
Not a question. And Nate trusted the male. How could he not? But…
“Nothing.” He put his used stuff in with the other dirty dishes. “Shuli was just being weird—”
As Nate straightened and went to turn around, Murhder was right there.
“Talk to me,” the Brother said.
“It was really nothing. We were out at the site, working on the garage—when that bright light thing happened.”
“The meteorite that’s on the news.”
“Yeah. Well, we went to see the hole, and as we were, you know, closing in on the pit thingy, Shuli”—Nate edited out the gun part—“made this comment about how he was supposed to protect me.”
“That shit did not come from us.”
“Guess he was just being—”
“What kind of a weapon did he have on him.” Murhder’s stare was as direct as a baseball bat over the shoulder. “And don’t lie. I can see it in your face.”
“It was nothing.” Three. Two. One… “It was a handgun, but he—”
“Jesus Christ,” Murhder snapped. “What the hell is he doing with a piece? Is he properly trained? Of course not. So he’s either going to shoot you in the head or castrate himself—”
“No, no, listen, it’s not a big deal—”
“Any gun in the hands of someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing with it is a very big deal.”
“I don’t want him to get in trouble. Look, let’s just forget it—”
“There’s no forgetting this.”
Nate raised his voice. “It’s not your business!”
“When it has to do with your safety, you bet your ass it is!”
At that moment, the shutters started lifting from all the windows, and the cellar door opened wide. Sarah, Murhder’s shellan, Nate’s mom, stuck her head out. She was already in her white coat and scrubs to go work in her lab, her streaky brown hair pulled back, a set of clear plastic eye protectors hanging off a front pocket.
Her tentative expression suggested she was thinking about putting the safety equipment on right then and there. “Everything okay here, boys?”
“Fine.”
“Yes.”
When Nate realized he and his dad had both crossed their arms over their chests, he dropped his hands and headed for the sliding glass door.
“I’m late for work.”
“No,” Murhder muttered. “You’re not. You still have half an hour.”
Nate didn’t dignify that with a response. He just pulled open the slider and slipped out into the night. Even though he was lit, he still managed to dematerialize off the property, and it was a relief to re-form at work, off to the side of the garage.
He didn’t go inside, even though things had already been unlocked and people were moving big lumps of furniture out of a U-Haul truck that was parked right by the front door. Ducking off into the side yard, he hurried away until he was sure no one could see him.
Getting a jump start on the last bit of painting in the garage had never been the point of coming early. Instead, he headed for the fence line, pulling another over and under with its rails and striding off across the field. As he walked, he replayed the confrontation with his father.
And felt like an asshole.
After which he got frustrated with Shuli and all his shoot-’em-up bullshit.
As he approached the tree line of the forest, he breathed in, partially to calm himself and partially because he was a simp looking for a sign. Unlike the night before, there wasn’t even a trace of that burned-metal smell. No steam, either. And no people. Vampires. Whatever.
Ducking under a branch, he pushed another out of the way—and walked into a third with a curse. Then there were ground obstacles to surmount, step over, go around. He felt like Godzilla wrecking a stage set with all the noise he was making.
The meteorite’s landing pit appeared right where it had been the night before, and it looked exactly the same. But like the thing was a snowbank that was going to melt after hours of being in the sunlight?
At the lip of the impact site, he stared down into the three-foot-deep hole in the earth. Everything was scored from heat, the fallen pine needles and ground scruff burned away, the earth blackened inside the carve-out. Standing this close, he could catch a whiff of the burn-off still, though it was faint.
Where had the meteorite gone? Had it imploded on impact?
Looking up, he searched the sky overhead. So many stars… and he had a thought that maybe Earth was like a target at a county fair, celestial beings holding corn dogs aiming things at the glowing blue marble in hopes of winning a stuffed animal.
When that hypothetical made him worry about the mass-extinction event that knocked off the dinosaurs, he searched the trunks and branches of the forest. And the longer he tried to find what was not there, the more he was able to picture the female from the night before, that blond hair, the hooded coat, the darting eyes—
The snap of the stick behind him had him spinning around.
For a moment, he didn’t think what he was seeing was real. He just figured his brain had coughed up a three-dimensional version of what he’d been dreaming of all day long. But then he caught the scent.
Her scent.
And as the complex interplay of absolutely-wonderful entered his nose, he felt transported even though his body never moved.
“It’s you,” he whispered with wonder.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Upstairs, on the second floor of the little cottage, Sahvage went back to the guest room that faced out front. Lifting up the panels he’d just shut, he peered out at the overgrown yard. With the lights off behind him, he was able to see the night clearly through the old, bubbly glass panes.
Nothing was moving. Not around the maple tree. Down the lane. Through the brambles and the tangled veins.
Bending low, he tried to see if the stars—
They were back out. Like a storm had come through and passed by.
He thought of that shadow entity and knew in his bones what was going on—yet he wanted to deny it. After all these years, he had thought that that part of his life was over. Done with. Never to cross the path of his destiny again.
Sahvage rubbed his face. He didn’t want to think about the past. Revisiting that shit in his mind was not the kind of stroll down memory lane he was looking to take—
“Are you okay?”
The words, softly spoken behind him, made him want to jump. But he caught himself and turned around smoothly to face the female who was like a bad penny to him.
Then again, he was the idiot who’d shown up on her front doorstep, so who was the evil one cent’er, here? And even though she no doubt would have been offended, he couldn’t stop from checking to make sure she wasn’t hurt. Again. But nothing appeared injured: She wasn’t limping and he couldn’t smell any blood.
And she sure as hell was staring up at him with totally clear, direct eyes.
That were actually… pretty damn attractive. He’d never thought about what color iris he preferred in a female. Attributes below the neck had been his sole focus when he’d been so inclined. But now?
He liked hazel eyes best. Unwavering, intelligent… hazel eyes that looked up at him like she was expecting him to justify the space he took up and the air he breathed by being a stand-up guy. Rather than a cold-blooded killer.
“Are you okay?” the female repeated as she waved her arms in front of him like she was in a crowd and trying to get his attention.
No worries there, sweetheart, he thought as he reclosed the shutter. You could be standing in the back of a hundred thousand and I’d find you.
“Everything’s great.” He nodded around the dusty room. “All locked into place.”
The female hesitated in the doorway. Her blond-and-brown hair had frizzed up out of the ponytail she had it in, and her cheeks were flushed. Her hands were also shaking, and the instant he noticed, she crossed her arms and tucked them away.
And he wasn’t surprised as she lifted her chin.
“Downstairs, too,” she announced. “We’re fine there as well.”
Sahvage would have smiled. Under different circumstances. “Just curious. What exactly is your definition of ‘not fine.’ ”
“None of your business—”
“I just realized something. I don’t even know your name. Considering we’ve been all about the life and death for two nights in a row, don’t you think it’s time we make a formal acquaintance? Or are you going to tell me that’s none of my business, either.”
“Bingo.”
“I didn’t figure a strong, independent female such as yourself to be so petty.”
“I’m not—”
“So prove you can rise above me,” he drawled. “What’s your name.”
The female looked away. Looked back.
“Quite a quandary, isn’t it,” Sahvage murmured. “And you screw yourself either way, don’t you—”
“Mae,” she snapped. “My name is Mae.”
Focusing on the female’s mouth, he was tempted to ask her to say it again. Just so he could watch her lips purse.
“Now, now,” he said softly. “Was that so bad, Mae?”
As she flushed and seemed to retreat into her head, no doubt to rustle up some truly creative uses of the words “fuck” and “off,” he jumped into the tense quiet first.
“Is this where you tell me to go? Because I’m not leaving.”
Man, he liked the way her eyes sparked. “This isn’t your house.”
“Yup. I know. It’s why I knocked.”
“This isn’t your problem—”
“Oh, see, that’s where you’re wrong.” He pointed to the window he’d just looked out of. “That thing nearly killed me, too. So you’re crazy if you think I’m not involved now.”
“It’s gone. It’s… dead.”
“You think that entity was alive. Really.” He leaned forward. “And how do you know so much about it? I sure as shit haven’t seen a shadow like that before, and I’ve fought a lot of things—almost all of which were living, at least until I was done with them. Never faced off the likes of that. But you’ve, what, shaken its hand and introduced yourself? Traded phone numbers? Do tell.”
“We’re fine, okay. Tallah and I are fine here, together. Alone.”
“You’re willing to bet your life on that? And hers?”
The female tossed her hair over her shoulder, even though it was all pulled back. “You think you’re the only one who can save us? Thanks, I’ll pass.”
Sahvage jabbed a thumb toward the windows that faced out front. “You couldn’t hold that gun up without me—”
“You couldn’t see to shoot—”
“So we make a perfect pair.” As she huffed, he had to smile. “Now how ’bout that coffee? Great, thanks. I take mine black.”
“Just like your soul, right.”
Levity lost, Sahvage lowered his chin and stared out at her from under heavy brows. “Here’s a little tip for you.” As her hand went to the base of her throat, he thought of everything he had done in the past. “When your enemy is evil, you don’t want your shield worrying about virtue. You and that old female are not going to survive this without the likes of me.”
* * *
Two hundred years in the past, and some indeterminate time following his demise from the penetrations of many arrows, Sahvage kindled back into consciousness, the gathering of his wits calling unto him an awareness that was gradual, yet irrevocable upon its arrival: The meadow was gone, replaced with a mist that was so thick, he felt as though he was floating, even as the weight of his body registered. The scent of his fresh blood was likewise no more, and the same was true of his righteous foes with their cries of judgment and vengeance.
The one thing he cared about, the only thing that mattered… Rahvyn… was as well nowhere to be seen, heard, or sensed—
Was this a dream? Had he lived? No, that could not be true.
With confusion, he regarded the front of himself. He was in a loose white garb that he neither owned nor had any memory of dressing himself in, yet did that truly matter? What was more germane was that no shafts protruded from his chest, and, placing his hand over his heart, he breathed in and felt no congestion, no struggle for draw. There was no pain, either.
Looking about, a shiver of awareness licked down his spine as he noted the white landscape that was nothing earthly-bound. Mist… only mist as far as he could see. Indeed, there was no division betwixt sky and ground, no structures, no flora or fauna, and no one else around him. It was as if this odd, troubling environ had been created for him and him alone.
Following a moment of collection, he turned to the left as if called to do so.
And when he saw what was before him, dread flowed throughout his body, replacing the blood in his veins.
The door unto the Fade presented itself just as it had been described unto him by a wahlker, and he recalled the male’s words, spoken in a haunting voice: From out of the fog shall appear before you a door, and should you desire to proceed unto the other side, then open it. If you wish to stay among the living, do not lay your palm upon the latch. Once contact be made, your choice is ratified fore’ermore.
Sahvage wrapped his arms around himself, in the event his hand acted on its own provocation, without his consent or prompting. Rahvyn was down below, undefended, in the midst of a sea of males with cruelty in their hearts. She needed him to keep her safe—
The latch depressed of its own volition, and there was the unmistakable click of a lock disengaging. The portal unhinged from its jambs, opening with an inexorable force and a manner that recalled the departure of his life force down upon that meadow’s soft bed of flowers, neither volunteered for nor deniable.
“No!” he called out to the milky sky. “I shall not proceed! I refuse—”
All at once, a swirling o’ertook him, the indistinct landscape casing ’round, or mayhap it was he who was turning and churning within it. And then there was a pulling, as if he had returned unto the birthing canal, his body sucked through a narrow aperture that he could not see, but most certainly sensed, the compression squeezing the air from his lungs and compressing his ribs such that his heart could no longer beat.
Nausea roiled within his gut, and his head became fuzzy, thoughts refusing to form properly—and yet what could he know about what was done unto him the now? He was alive no longer, his body an abode which had been locked by death’s key against his soul’s reentry… unless all his prayers to be of service unto his first cousin had been honored? Mayhap—
A free fall followed a sudden release of the stifling compaction, his senses informing him that he was set upon a descent through air that offered no sufficient drag to slow him down. And as he strained to see where he was, his vision left him. Throwing out his arms, he clasped at nothing. Kicking his legs, he encountered nothing. Twisting and turning… he came up against nothing.
And in the midst of it all, there was no fear, only rage, as was his nature.
Dhunhd.
Having rejected the gift of the Fade, having forsaken the eternity of love and life he had miraculously been given in spite of his earthly actions, he was now being punished for the temerity of attempting to determine his own destiny.
