Wicked Dreams, page 8
My stomach sank all over again. "We?" I asked, hoping she wasn't going to say what I thought she was.
Cerridwen indicated both Callum and me with a graceful sweep of her hand. "Yes, 'we.' Callum is the one who was going to join our training sessions."
Well, fuck.
I snuck a glance at Damon. His mouth had flattened. Pretty clear he wasn't happy with the idea. He really had taken a dislike to Callum. But there wasn't much I could do about that.
"But where are we going to train?" I asked. "It's not as though we can use Fae magic out here willy-nilly."
Cassandra nodded. "No. But there are other things that Callum can train you in."
Crap and double crap. "Such as?" I asked, hoping that maybe she meant he could teach me more of the Fae theory of demon hunting. Sitting in a room with the man and taking notes would be easy enough.
But no such luck.
"For one thing, you have done well with the daggers, but it is time to try other weapons. Callum is a master swordsman."
"Swords?" I squeaked. I was okay with the daggers. You could at least throw a dagger. But a sword? That was up close and personal fighting.
I wasn't sure I wanted to get close enough to a lesserkind or an imp or anything else Cerridwen might want to hunt to try and chop their heads off with a sword. So far, I'd been happy to rely on throwing fireballs and frying the suckers. "Is that a thing?"
"Out here, we have guns," Damon said.
I hadn't particularly liked learning to shoot, but I'd done it. But the problem was, while a gun might take down a rogue witch or someone like Jack, most of the time, it would only annoy a magical creature. Unless you happened to have demonstone bullets. But that was a whole other world of hassle. Which Damon knew. I bumped him gently with my shoulder.
"Guns are not always the answer," Cassandra said. "But swords are not exactly common out here. They draw attention."
Callum grinned. "They can be disguised. Besides, swordplay teaches you many things. It has more uses than you might think."
"Is one of them letting him show off his muscles?" Damon muttered softly.
I stifled a laugh and bumped him again. He might not be happy about it—hell, I wasn't happy about it—but I doubted I was going to get out of having to do it.
"Swords. Gee, sounds fun," I said, hoping I didn't sound as sarcastic as I felt.
"It will be," Callum said.
"Perhaps. But not like something I really want to start with at—" I tipped my head back to check the sky. "—this time of night. Or morning." It had to be getting close to two. "I think we should all just sleep on this and revisit once we're awake." The Fae didn't need as much sleep as humans. I knew that much. But I wasn't Fae. They could entertain themselves for the night if they had to.
Though, crap. I realized that still left the question of where they were going to stay. Cassandra hadn't offered to host Cerridwen. I would have thought that might have been the polite thing to do given who she was, Archives or no Archives. But apparently not.
Which left us with two Fae to house. Judging by Callum's tuxedo, he had plenty of money. Unless it was all Fae smoke and mirrors. Somehow I doubted it. He seemed like the kind of guy who liked to indulge himself.
Maybe they could just go to a hotel. But that meant two Fae loose in Berkeley.
I looked at Cassandra and lifted an eyebrow, trying to indicate that she should decide what our plan was.
Cassandra sighed, then straightened her shoulders. "Maggie is right. It's late. We can discuss this all once everyone is rested. Lady Cerridwen, I have a friend who has a B&B a few blocks from here. She may have a vacancy. But she most likely will only have a room for one. I know she has a long-term guest right now, and she only has two rooms."
Cerridwen nodded. "That would suffice for me. But that leaves us still seeking a solution for Callum."
"Plenty of hotels in Berkeley," Damon said.
Maia snorted. Clearly she could read her boss's mood as easily as I could.
As simple as a hotel would be, I doubted leaving Callum to his own devices in Berkeley was a wise idea if we wanted all this to stay under the radar. It was a college town, its history leaned alternative, and I was sure there was a reasonable tanai population, so the locals were used to seeing some weird things, but that didn't necessarily mean they were ready for a full-blooded Fae to wreak havoc on the local populace.
For a start, he'd be felling the college girls left, right, and center if he chose to dabble in that direction. I had no idea if he would, but fairy tales were full of enough instances of Fae seducing humans to suggest it wasn't outside the realm of possibility. With his face, I imagined he wouldn't have to even use much Fae charm to entice a girl into his bed.
The Cestis didn't need to be dealing with enchanted college kids along with everything else.
An alternative flitted across my mind. One I didn't like particularly much. But as much as I wanted to keep my mouth shut, my conscience wouldn't let me. It might solve the problem, and it would make Cassandra's life easier. After all the Cestis had done for me, I owed her that much.
"There's always my house," I said slowly, still not sure why I was offering. I didn't look at Damon, but I could practically feel his eyes boring into me.
"Your house?" Cerridwen said. "Wasn't that damaged in the fire?"
"The repairs are almost done," I explained. "It's secure. It's hardly luxurious, but the kitchen and one of the bathrooms are finished. The rest of the work is mostly paint and a bit of tiling at this point. The power is connected for the contractors, and as far as I know, the plumbing is done. It's habitable. I'm sure Cassandra has a sleeping bag or something he could borrow for tonight."
"You don't have a bed?" Callum asked.
"My house burned down," I said flatly. "I haven't refurnished yet."
We had managed to salvage some of my belongings, and those were in storage. Lizzie, Cassandra, and Radha had helped get rid of the smoke smell and water damage, but they couldn't magically repair things that had been burned to ash. So most of the furniture was gone. Some of it had been my grandparents', some stuff that I'd bought, things I'd had since my days rooming with Nat. Luckily the house comp was securely backed up six ways from Sunday, so I hadn't lost any of my business data or precious things like the photos and videos of Gran and Grandpa, but it was still hard to lose the rest of it.
Lizzie and I had rented our apartment furnished, neither of us seeing the point of buying furniture to suit an apartment that might not fit the house when—or maybe if—we moved back. As it was, it was expensive enough to replace linens and towels and all the basics of keeping a house. A fair chunk of my wardrobe had been spared thanks to me staying at the hotel for the tournament, but Lizzie had lost a lot of hers. Though she'd still had things in storage from when she'd packed up her old place.
The truth was, I hadn't yet made up my mind if I was going to move back into my house. The first time I'd restored it, I'd done a lot of the work myself and somehow managed to keep the spirit I remembered of my grandparents. But the last time I'd ventured to the building site, the house had felt...different. The floor plan was the same, but it no longer felt like a home. I would have to decide at some point and buy new stuff if I chose to move back. But even if I had bought a new bed, I wouldn't be offering it to Callum.
"He will make do," Cerridwen said. "A few nights is nothing."
Not to mention he could probably magic himself up a bed if he wanted. I hoped he wouldn't, though. I didn't love the idea of my house being manipulated with Fae magic.
Callum offered Cerridwen a shallow bow. "As the Lady commands. I will survive." He turned his attention back to me. "More importantly, is there room to train?"
I rolled my eyes. "Silly me, I forgot to add a fencing salon to my house plans. What was I thinking?"
He smirked and opened his mouth as though about to ask a question.
"Before you ask," I cut in, "the backyard has fences, but it's quite small. And the neighbors on one side can see in. I don't think they need to see me sword fighting with a Fae."
Callum nodded. "Then we will require a training facility as well as this habitation."
Maia stepped forward. "I know a few gyms around here. I'm sure we can find something we can rent for a few days. They may have swords, too." She eyed Callum dubiously. "Assuming you haven't been carrying a bag of swords around with you?"
"I am not unarmed," he admitted. "But a blade that suits me would not suit Maggie. Unless she already has a sword?"
"No sword, just a dagger," I said. "And a gun."
Callum grimaced. "Guns are inelegant."
"But discreet."
"I can find weapons," Maia said, cutting us off. "We'll figure something out."
"Ian might have something Maggie can use. Or know where we can acquire swords, if she needs a more permanent solution," Cassandra said.
Of course the Cestis would know where to buy swords. Though Ian was something of a collector, so maybe he just liked them.
"I don't need my own sword. I'm not going to start carting one around. I'm not a freaking musketeer," I protested.
"First you will learn to use one, then we will worry about your choice of weapons," Callum said. He aimed one of his charming smiles at Maia. Who, thankfully, appeared to remain uncharmed. "But thank you. If you could find a facility, that would be appreciated."
"We should be able to arrange something," Maia said. "But it might not be cheap." She looked at Damon as though asking who was footing the bill.
He looked back at Callum. "Payment, I believe, is Mr. Dune's problem," he said with another unfriendly smile. "You want Maggie to train with swords? Then you pay for the gym."
Callum nodded, and I sighed.
This wasn't going to be fun.
I woke from an unsettling dream to find Damon's lips at my throat, his hand sliding to cup my breast. We'd fallen into bed after making it home from the Rose Garden and, despite his predictions about the magical powers of Cassandra's tea, we'd been too tired to do much more than shuck off our clothes and climb under the covers. He had pulled me close as he always did, but after that, I didn't even remember closing my eyes.
I kept them closed now, savoring the sensation, still half asleep. His touch chased away the lingering memory of odd dreams, replacing it with far more pleasant sensations. He was warm at my back, pressed up hard against me. Hard in more ways than one.
"What time is it?" I murmured.
"Early."
"You need sleep," I protested. It didn't sound convincing, even to me.
He laughed softly, sending a purring quiver down my nerves. "Do you really want me to stop?" His thumb idly flicked my nipple.
"No," I breathed. I never wanted him to stop once he started.
"I need you," he said, voice rough in my ear.
I shivered, heat pooling in my gut and between my legs. "You have me. Always."
"Good." His fingers did more clever things to my nipples, and I sighed happily.
"That's right. Just relax. Let me make you feel good, Maggie mine."
"If you insist." I laughed, the sound languid and sleepy, but it turned to a gasp as his hand drifted lower, slipping between my legs at just the right angle. He knew me too well. Knew my body. As I knew his.
I pressed into his hand, and he murmured something approving and incoherent into my neck, pressing his teeth gently against my skin as his fingers worked me, sliding against me.
"You feel good, Maggie," he said. "Always so good. I love how you feel." He twisted his hand slightly, finding my clit at a particularly nice angle. "Soft. Wet. So good."
I couldn't make my brain work well enough to answer. But I tried to turn toward him so I could kiss him.
"No," he said. "Like this."
He lifted my leg and pulled it back so my calf rested on his. Then in one smooth move, he was inside me, and I gasped again at the fullness, my body adjusting to having him there.
He didn't give me much time to catch my breath, only pausing for a few seconds, as though savoring the sensations as I was. Then he began to move, drawing back and thrusting in again with a groan. The hand that had been holding my leg slid back between them to tease me as his other forearm pulled me tight against him, his mouth close to my ear, whispering how much he wanted me, how hard he was going to fuck me.
Well, if he was in the mood for fast and dirty, so was I. It didn't matter that we hadn't had the fun of peeling each other out of evening clothes and taking our time. All that mattered was that we were together. Joined. Chasing the heat and the thrill of us again.
There wasn't much I could do in this position but let him lead, let him take me as he wanted. Other than urge him on with whispers and moans that melded with the slide and slap of flesh and the ever-increasing pace of our breathing.
He knew how to make me lose myself, knew how to drive away the darkness and give me pleasure and light and heat and joy.
Even if I'd wanted to draw it out, I couldn't have. Not with him in control, clearly intent on pushing me over the edge as fast as possible. So all I could do was go with the ride, give in to the need he stoked so well. The pleasure rolled through me and over me, building with each wave, each thrust, each touch until it pulled me under entirely and I came with a gasp, shuddering against him, unable to do anything but that.
It didn't take long for him to follow me, and then we were sweaty and panting in the aftermath. Half stunned with pleasure, as always, I eased away and then turned so I could finally kiss him the way I wanted to. He let me, his eyes half shut, a smile playing over his lips.
"Go back to sleep," I whispered.
This time he didn't argue, just pulled me close, tucking me against him. I watched his breathing slow, watched him drift away. Then I let myself follow him again.
Chapter Eight
I'd been back in my apartment for a few hours, trying to get my brain to function while I did some work, when the house comp chimed. Damon's alarm had gone off at seven, and though he'd told me to go back to sleep, I had work to do, just like he did. So I'd dragged my butt out of bed, showered, and headed home. I wasn't expecting visitors. But before I could ask the house comp who it was, the door swung open, and Lizzie wheeled her luggage through.
I blinked at her, startled. "Hey. I thought you were back tonight."
"Managed to grab an earlier flight." She dropped her purse on the nearest armchair and yawned, stretching her arms above her head. Her clothes, a more-sedate-than-usual combo of various shades of blue, paired with peach boots, were wrinkled and her eye makeup smudged. She looked like she needed a good night's sleep as much as I did.
"Do you want to shower first or drink coffee?" I asked. "Or, you know, something stronger?"
Her smile was lopsided, which told me that most likely her trip had contained at least some Cestis element. And whatever it had been, it hadn't been fun.
"Or a hug?" I asked.
That made her laugh. "Who are you, and what have you done with Maggie?"
"Hey," I protested. "I hug." Usually because someone else initiated it when it came to people other than Damon, but I wasn't a monster.
She came over and hugged me. Lizzie just about came up to my chin, which always made hugs kind of awkward. But I did it anyway. She was usually feisty, but even the feisty ones need hugs sometimes. Especially after they've been sorting out weird magical problems. Or hunting magical creatures. I didn't know which it might be, and she'd insisted she was just going to a conference before she left, which told me I wasn't on the Cestis need-to-know list when it came to any hypothetical problem she may have been dealing with.
Which was good because it meant it probably had nothing to do with me, my demon, or Jack. But bad because I couldn't let my best friend vent to me to make her day better.
"Thanks," Lizzie muttered after half a minute or so. She stepped back and tugged at the ends of one of the plaits she'd twisted her hair into. It was currently a deeper shade of peach than her boots. "I think I'll take the shower. But coffee sounds good. And food. Is there food?"
"Yep," I said. "I cooked on the weekend, so there's stuff in the freezer. And Cassandra dropped off cookies the other day. I saved you some."
"Are you sure you're not a fake Maggie?" she said, turning away. Then she turned back. "Sorry, that was a dumb thing to say."
We both grimaced. We'd dealt with someone impersonating Yoshi, my sometimes intern, at the launch of Damon's tournament. Identity was a bit of a touchy subject. "It's fine. But I swear I'm me. I just haven't been home much or I probably would have eaten more of them. But in case you need proof, Pinky's grandma's name is Cerridwen."
Lizzie nodded. "Okay."
Cerridwen's name wasn't one we threw around casually. We referred to her as "Grandma" anywhere there was any chance of being overheard. I only ever used "meeting with Pinky" in my calendar. If someone was impersonating me, they'd have to be one of the Fae to know I knew Cerridwen.
"Now go shower. I'll make you something to eat."
It was nearly thirty minutes before she came back into the kitchen. She looked somewhat revived, her damp hair loose rather than the "I haven't had time to do my hair for a few days" plaits of earlier. She'd changed into a pair of black-and-pink zebra-striped leggings and an old yellow sweatshirt with cartoon sloths on it, which told me she wasn't planning on going out again. Either she'd already reported to the Cestis or she was going to wait until tomorrow to do it.
I passed her a mug of coffee and then waved at the table. "Pasta in just a few minutes. Do you want something else besides coffee?"
She shook her head, dropped into one of the chairs and started gulping coffee. By the time I'd drained the spaghetti and carried it and the bowl of sauce I'd reheated over to the table, she'd finished the mug.
I put down the food and went back to the fridge to grab ice water. I wasn't going to deny her coffee if she wanted it, but she clearly needed to sleep tonight. Damon kept me supplied with real coffee these days. Lizzie had probably been drinking syncaf while she'd been away. As much as everyone said syncaf was the same, it was a lie. Real coffee had more of a kick, as well as tasting a lot better.
