Read Better Off Dead Online

Authors: H. P. Mallory

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Paranormal & Urban

Better Off Dead (15 page)

BOOK: Better Off Dead
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Tallis shook his head, a smile still playing on his lips. “Nae. Ye asked me why Ah was suddenly bein’ nice tae ye. Mah answer was that ye saw mah hoomeland ah Scootlund when ye tooched yer sword.”

“I saw a castle,” I said simply.

“Aye,” Tallis nodded. “It is knoon as
Fearghus Castle
, in Gaelic.”

“Oh.” Although we were finally on the same page, I was only precariously hanging onto a letter or two.

“Fearghus castle has bin in mah family fur generations.”

I wasn’t sure if I should congratulate him or what. “So what did it mean when I saw Fergus Castle after I touched the sword?”

He shook his head again. “Ye need nae concern yerself, lass, ye need nae concern yerself.”

I threw my hands up in the air and glared at him. “Forget I ever asked anything! You are so frustrating sometimes! Why don’t you just stay the jerk bladesmith that I’ve come to know so well, because then at least, I’ll know what to expect!”

He shook his head as if my outburst were completely unwarranted. Then he brought his beautiful blue eyes to mine, but they seemed heavier somehow, as if a weight had descended on the otherwise lovely navy. “It takes ah lang spoon tae sup wif the devil.”

All I could do was shake my head. “I give up.” Then I stood and went over to Bill’s corner of the small room. He was still snoring blissfully, completely unaware of the frustration consuming me. He twitched a few times before a serene smile plastered itself across his pasty face. I sat down next to him, unhappy to discover there wasn’t another fur on the floor. When I looked back at Tallis, his eyes were narrowed on mine.

“Keep yer distance when dealin’ wi’ the devil,” he said in a soft, but arctic tone. There was no expression on his face so it took me a second or two to understand he was translating his last bizarre statement. Before I could tell him to put a sock in it, he turned on his heel and approached the door. When he opened it, a wintry breeze invaded the house and I heard the sounds of the Grevels’ paws hurrying over to him. Saying nothing, our eyes met before he shut the door.

 

***

 

I awoke in tears with a sob trapped in my throat. Sitting up immediately, I found night was still upon me. The room was dark except for the fire’s embers dying in the fireplace. They created a muted, yellow glow and sent strange shadows all around the room.

Orienting myself, I discovered I was lying in the middle of Tallis’s bed. I shook my head, wondering how I’d ended up here when I
remembered going to sleep on the ground, beside Bill. Speaking of whom, Bill remained in the same position I’d left him, still snoring away, his thick body twitching spasmodically. Tallis was nowhere to be seen.

I couldn’t stop wondering why Tallis had put me in his bed. It was the second time he’d done
it and I was as shocked this time as I had been the first.

I wonder if that’s all he did to you?
my inner voice interjected from inside my head. I looked down at myself, noticing I was still dressed in the clothes I’d gone to sleep in. It didn’t look as though I was in any way disheveled. Additionally, I was all buttoned up. And, really, if Tallis wanted to take advantage of me, wouldn’t I have woken up?

Not necessarily,
that voice barked back at me.
You heard him, he’s a two-thousand-year-old Druid so he must possess some type of magic. For all you know, he could have been sexually molesting you all along.

Somehow, I couldn’t believe that. Not after Tallis appeared to want absolutely nothing to do with  me from a physical standpoint. Shaking my head, I banished the thoughts right out of my brain. Instead, I exhaled a deep, pent-up breath and felt a tear slide from my left eye. I caught it with the back of my hand as I tried to ignore the dreams that had plagued me all night.

They were dreams of my mother, dreams of her realizing her only child was dead. There was a huge hole within me, a hole that had been growing since the death of the old me. It seemed to grow larger every time I thought about my mother and the sheer grief she’d been enduring all this time. All I wanted to do was call her and tell her that I wasn’t dead, that I was all right, but I knew I couldn’t make that phone call. Yes, I was well aware that Jason Streethorn had also insisted as much, but it wasn’t Jason’s dictum that concerned me. It was because I couldn’t show up on my mother’s doorstep and announce I was her daughter. Not when I looked nothing like the old Lily Harper. Besides, even if she bought the whole reincarnation thing, how would she take the news that I was a Soul Retriever, now living in the equivalent of hell? She wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Sadly, I had to continue allowing my mother to believe I was dead, and it was that thought which ate at me. I clenched my eyes shut tightly and gritted my teeth, trying to ignore all thoughts of Josephine Harper. They would do me no good. Since I couldn’t do anything to improve the situation, there was no point in hurting myself even more by dwelling on it.

“Either you run the day or the day runs you,” I whispered. The words belonged to the self-help guru Jim Rohn, and they made me feel a little bit better.

I had to focus on my own survival, and whatever it took to ensure my first mission to the Underground was successful. As much as I loved my mother, and would always love her, and despite missing her with my entire being, I had to close that chapter of my life. I had to move on or risk the chance of failing.

Failing wasn’t an option.

Lying back down, I stared at the log ceiling of Tallis’s home. I tried to close my eyes and go back to sleep, but my mind was racing, my heartbeat just a few paces behind. I sighed and sat up again, stretching my hands over my head. Then I stood up and approached the nearest window. I pulled the dark muslin curtain to the side and noticed the moon still lighting the sky, although some nimbus storm clouds obscured its milky glow. The branches of the trees seemed more skeletal and the overall vibe outside the window was menacing. If the woods didn’t look haunted before, they definitely did now.

As I continued to watch the branches of the trees scraping against one another in the ruthless wind, I caught something moving just beyond the tree line. I brought my face closer to the window pane and saw the glint of steel reflecting in the dull moonlight.

Tallis.

I didn’t know why, but I immediately started for the door, throwing it open as I shivered in the cold wind. I knew it was only my imagination, but the sudden gust of wind seemed like it was trying to keep me inside the sanctuary of Tallis’s home, to keep me from taking a step outside into the haunted woods.

Treading onto the dark earth, I took a few more steps toward the trees, still watching the blade’s silver flashing in the moonlight. I continued forward until I was shrouded by the darkness of a tree. I leaned against it and watched Tallis slice the air with an incredibly long blade. It had to have been five or six feet long, and was balanced by two handles of solid steel, with the grip of the sword bound in black leather.

As always, Tallis wore only a kilt. This time, however, his sandals were missing. As he turned his back to me, I could see red blood staining the tattooed image of the tree on his back. My stomach dropped as I realized what the crimson stain meant—he’d whipped himself again. Images of Tallis brandishing the cat o’ nine tails in the snow flashed through my mind and I swallowed down a sour taste.

Tallis whirled around, wielding the sword high above his head, and the lacerations and blood on his back simply disappeared. Just as before, Tallis’s body managed to heal itself. I watched, transfixed, as Tallis sliced the air with his sword repeatedly, above his head, in front of him, and to his right and left. He moved with incredible fluidity, as though gliding along the earth, his feet never touching it. He kept his feet shoulder-width the entire time. When he moved, he appeared to slide over the dirt. His posture rigidly straight, he kept his chest and torso forward to aid his equilibrium. With every thrust and parry, Tallis’s elbows were bent and close to his sides.

Watching his grace and skill with the sword, I realized his was an art form equal to any ballet. The effortless way in which he wielded the blade was stunning and, more so, awe inspiring.

He suddenly stiffened and dropped his sword into the earth while wheeling around on the ball of his foot, his eyes focused directly on mine. With my breath in my throat, I thought of hiding behind the tree, but it was too late. He’d already seen me.

“Ah dinnae appreciate ye skulkin’ behind the trees an’ watchin’ meh.”

“Oh, I, uh,” I stammered, feeling embarrassment hot on my cheeks. “I, uh, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t sleep and, uh, saw you out here and I, uh, didn’t want to interrupt you so …”

“Aye, Ah git it,” he said, silencing me with a wave of his hand. “Perhaps yer inability tae sleep is fortuitoos.”

“How so?” I asked,
approaching him from behind the tree.

“Ye need trainin’ oan hoo tae wield yer sword.” He inclined his head toward the base of the tree nearest him, where I saw my sword leaning against it.

“Why is my sword out here?” I cautiously approached the beautiful sword he’d forged and reached for it, half wondering if the visuals of exotic castles would blind me again. When I wrapped by fingers around it, however, I didn’t see or feel anything.

“Ah was teachin’ it.”

“What?” I asked rather indignantly. When I got within a few feet of him, he took my sword from me, and held it before him with admiration.

“Aye, Ah was teachin’ it tae recognize mah hold, an’ th’ feel ah mah fingers.” He stretched his fingers out before tightening them around the grip of the sword again. “Ah was teachin’ it tae recognize me.”

I swallowed hard, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the way he touched the sword, running his fingers down the blade as if it were the skin of a woman’s leg. “You almost sound like you think the sword is alive.”

“Och aye,” he snapped, turning his attention from the shiny steel and narrowing his eyes on me. “Every
fin’ from the haunted woods is alife, lass.”

I had no clue what to make of that so I remained silent. Tallis apparently took my silence as
a tacit sign that I was ready to learn how to wield my sword, and handed the sword to me. After crossing his arms over his bare chest, he stood directly in front of me, wearing his poker face.

“What?” I demanded with annoyance. I guessed I was grumpy because I never felt exactly comfortable around this man. It seemed like I was always walking on eggshells.

“Which is yer dominant hain?"

I figured by that he meant which hand did I use most often. “This one,” I
answered, waving my right one at him. He arched a brow, apparently finding my little wave slightly amusing. In the blink of an eye, though, any hint of humor was bleached right out of his expression.

“Grip yer sword wi
f yer dominant hain,” he barked. “Take control ah it. Shoow the sword that ye aer the master, noot it.”

Wrapping my fingers around the sword’s grip, I held it out before me, and tried to imagine how a master would hold a sword. Unfortunately, I’d never met any sword masters, so I didn’t have a very good feeling about the success of this task.

“Nae, nae nae, wooman!” he guffawed as he ripped the sword from me. “Shoow yer dominance, damn ye!” His reprimanding roar made me wince in response, and he threw the sword into the dirt while closing the distance between us. I felt my heart climbing up my throat and averted my eyes from the blade of my sword, which was now sticking out of the ground. I felt Tallis’s fingertips on the bottom of my jaw as he lifted my chin, and forced me to look at him. “Ye wilnae survife the Oonderground oonless ye assert yerself. Ye cannae shoow ah semblance ah weakness. An’ given yer innocence, ye will hae tae prove yerself aw the more.”

“Okay, I understand,” I said between gritted teeth.

“Agin,” he ordered, motioning to my sword, which was still planted in the ground. “Take yer sword.”

With every ounce of willpower and courage, I reached for the sword and pulled as hard as I could. I nearly toppled over when the earth released it. With my eyes narrowed on Tallis, I gripped the sword tightly and held it out directly in front of me, aiming the tip right between Tallis’s eyes. I didn’t even know what I was doing until after I did it. But now, after seeing the utter surprise in Tallis’s midnight blue gaze, I was pleased with myself.

With his eyes riveted on mine, he simply rested his fingers on the tip of my blade before pushing it down. He stared at me for another few seconds, both of us engaged in a war of wills, me striving to prove that I was much stronger than he gave me credit for, while he had to decide whether or not I was telling the truth.

“Grip yer sw
ord wif yer dominant hain,” he repeated again, this time in a raspy-throated voice that sent butterflies into the pit of my stomach. What felt like burning was taking shape in the depths of my core. The tone of his voice was the type of throatiness that accompanied sex, or so I imagined. The more I thought about it, the more I began to see Tallis Black as the epitome of everything sexually attractive in a man. From his obvious masculinity and incredible strength, to his eyes, which could tear my clothes off with just a glance, Tallis Black equaled unparalleled lust. What made it so bizarre though, was that he was also celibate, well, as far as I could tell anyway. 

BOOK: Better Off Dead
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