Copper Veins (27 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Allis Provost

BOOK: Copper Veins
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“That was not glass,” Micah said, having come to the same conclusion.

“It's specially treated glass,” Juliana explained as she stepped up to the keypad. “It masks metal's presence from Elementals. It was developed after Ferra removed the metal surrounding the Institute.”

“Why?” I asked. “I mean, if there wasn't any metal there, why would you need to hide it?”

“Ferra didn't just take the metal from the surrounding environment, she sucked it out of the communications and computer systems too.” Juliana peeked over her shoulder and smiled. “You should have seen Mike's face. His whole head was red like a tomato.”

“Figures,” I muttered. “The betrayer never expects to be betrayed.”

Juliana's shoulders tensed, and she turned back to the keypad. In my mind I replayed what I'd said and wanted to smack myself. She thought I had called her the betrayer, but I hadn't. Now that I knew what she'd really been doing these past two years, I understood that she was my family's staunchest ally. Well, maybe. I still needed a bit more clarification on a few things.

I moved closer so I could talk to her, but before I could, she finished her typing and the wall slid away. Ahead of us was a long, dark corridor with small rooms on either side. Mom plunged into the darkness, the rest of us trailing behind.

“The cells don't have doors?” Sadie wondered aloud.

“They have other ways of keeping us inside,” Max
muttered. I saw Juliana drop her gaze, and my heart went out to her. I grabbed her elbow, slowing our pace until we were the last of the group.

“Hey,” I murmured. “Max is just saying shit. He doesn't mean any of it toward you.” Juliana nodded, but she wouldn't look at me. Since I had nothing else to say, at least not in a dark prison corridor, I let go of her elbow and followed Mom.

I examined the many cells that lined the corridor. They were all empty, row after row of vacancies, reminding me of these last years with half my family missing. I was starting to wonder if this was a good plan—I mean, would we really find Dad, or just someone else who looked like him? Maybe Micah was wrong, and it would only be a picture of Dad. Or a body.

Gods. Please don't let it be a body
.

Since we hadn't seen another living soul, I was about to suggest we try another wing. Then we saw a faint glow at the end of the corridor. The last cell had a lone fey stone burning within, sitting on the floor next to a bowl of water and a hunk of moldy bread. Next to the bread was a man.

There were plastic chains around his ankle, chains that looked like they'd been in place for weeks or months. His back was against the far wall—his knees were drawn up, and his head drooped forward. His hair and beard were long and unkempt, the skin I could see on his arms and legs was filthy, and he
appeared to be wearing an old sack.

Even after all this time, I knew that man for who he was—my father.

“Is it him?” Sadie breathed. Without hesitation, Mom stepped into the cell. We all moved to follow, but Micah barred our way.

“This is not our reunion,” he murmured. We moved as one to the side of the entrance and waited.

Mom dropped to her knees and crawled before the prisoner. She stopped just outside the pool of fey light, staring at him.

“Just get it over with,” the prisoner rasped. “But don't ask me anything. I won't tell you anything about them.”

“About who?” Mom asked. “Who do you think I'll ask you about?”

He made a dry, rattling sound meant to be a laugh. “Learned a new trick, did you? Learned how to imitate my wife's voice? It won't work.”

“Beau.”

“Won't work.”

“Beau.” Mom closed the distance between them and she whispered something I couldn't quite make out.

“Maeve?” he asked. She tilted his head upward, but he kept his eyes closed.

“Beau, look at me.”

“If I open my eyes and it's not you, it will kill me,” he rasped. Mom kissed him then, full on the lips, and stroked his cheek.

“It's me, Beau,” she whispered. “
Tá sé dom, do bhean chéile, do Bealtaine blossom. Mé chaill tú
.”

Dad uttered one of those soundless laughs. “Not nearly as much as I've missed her.”

“So, have a look at me, then.”

Dad—real Dad—opened his eyes and saw his wife for the first time in sixteen years. Based on the look he gave her, he hadn't lost one iota of love for her. Dad reached up and gathered Mom against his chest, burying his face in her golden hair. “I always knew you'd come for me,” he murmured as they held each other. “I always knew that, if I was strong enough, if I could just hold on long enough, you would find me.”

Mom laughed, that sound we'd heard so rarely since he'd gone to war. “Of course, leave it to me to rescue your arse.”

A rumble in Dad's chest. “Of course.”

Micah kissed my forehead, then he tugged me toward the cell door. “Come, love,” he murmured. “Let us bring your father home.”

Micah, Max, and Sadie entered the cell and set about getting Dad out of his plastic chains. I would have followed, but I saw Juliana trying to creep away down the corridor.

“Where are you going?” I demanded.

“You're bringing your father home,” she said, staring at the floor. “I should go.”

“Where can you go?” I countered. When she didn't respond, I moved to stand directly in front of her. “Come on, Juliana, it's me. Answer.”

When Juliana met my eyes, I had my answer. Her despondent, somewhat hopeless expression told me everything I needed to know—since she'd helped us, she had nowhere to go. I recalled something Not-Dad had said, that Corbeaus always paid their debts, and realized that he had gotten at least one thing right.

“Come back to the manor,” I said. “You can stay there with us.”

Juliana shook her head. “No, it's not my place. I don't belong there.”

“You helped me rescue Max and you just helped us find our father,” I listed. “I can't think of any other place you should be.”

My family stepped out of the cell, Mom plastered to Dad's side while Max supported him with an arm around his shoulders. “Sara,” Dad said, then Mom made room as Dad pulled me into his arms.

“I missed you so much,” I said, fighting tears.

“Missed you, too,” Dad said as he rubbed my back.

I drew back, and Dad saw Juliana behind me. “Dad, this is Juliana. She helped us find you today, and she's going to be staying with us. At the manor.” I glanced from Max to Micah, ready to defend my decision if either of them had a problem with it. Turned out I didn't have to.

“All right,” Micah said with a nod. “To the manor, then.”

32

We got back to the manor just after dawn. After Dad bathed and got his hair and beard under control, we all gathered in the front sitting room. I know Dad and Mom—and Micah and I, for that matter—really should have been carving out some alone time, but this was the first time in years our entire family had been together, and we wanted to enjoy it for as long as possible. Luckily, Micah understood.

“Of course you want to be with your family,” Micah had murmured as we settled onto the vine couch. “I would give almost anything to be reunited with mine.”

“What wouldn't you give?” I asked, because I couldn't imagine anything more important than my family's safety.

“You,” he replied, pressing a kiss to my temple.

I kissed his chin. “I guess I'd rather not give you up, either.”

Micah grinned at that and pulled me into his arms. I rested against his chest, then smiled again as I looked around the room. Dad and Mom were sitting on the floor directly before the hearth, arms tightly wrapped around each other as if they were physically anchoring themselves together. Sadie and Max were sitting in front of them, listening to Dad tell his war stories. The copper-haired man before me looked and acted so much like my Dad of memory that I couldn't believe that any of us had ever fallen for a shapeshifter's ruse.

I spied Juliana in the corner by the kitchen. Despite all that had happened, I liked having someone else with me here in the Otherworld. I mean, if I'd had her to talk to, I probably wouldn't have done half of the dumb stuff I'd done since moving here. If nothing else, at least she would have helped me hide the evidence.

Juliana caught me looking at her and offered a tentative smile. I smiled back, even though my heart wasn't in it. I really didn't know if I could ever trust her again, no matter how much I wanted to.

However, the fact that most everyone was scattered about the room meant that Micah and I had the luxurious couch all to ourselves. I don't know if “couch” was the exact right term, since it was really a knot of gnarled vines and roots topped with many
cushions. What I did know was that it was the most comfortable seat I'd ever had.

But then, that owed a lot more to Micah than some feathers and silk. He'd burrowed his back into the corner, with his knees drawn up to his chest. I sat between his legs, my cheek against his chest while his arms encircled my shoulders. A thick, soft blanket covered us to our waists. If there really was a heaven, this was it for me.

“I love you,” I murmured. In return he kissed the back of my neck near my hairline.

“And I love you, wife.” His warm breath stirred me, stirred something deep. Before I could suggest we move to another location, Dad's story ended, and he and Mom got to their feet.

“Again, I cannot hope to thank you,” Dad said to Micah. “For keeping my family safe in my absence. I am truly indebted.”

“They managed their safety quite well without me,” Micah replied, gripping my father's hand. “You taught them well, Baudoin.”

Dad ducked his head at that and let Mom lead him away to their rooms. I moved to rise as well, but Micah's arms tightened around me.

“Do not move,” he breathed in my ear.

“Micah,” I began to protest, then he shifted and I felt his erection digging into my back. We still hadn't consummated our marriage what with the many interruptions we'd had, including my false father, along with my former best friend, showing up and
leading us to my real father.
Yeah, it's been pretty hectic since the wedding
.

“Micah,” I whispered, “here?”

“Here,” he insisted. When I tried to protest, he continued, “Whenever I try to create the perfect moment with you, it collapses around us. No more will I plan, no more will I wait. I will take this moment, and I will make it perfect.”

Well, I couldn't really argue with that, could I? Micah resumed nibbling my neck, then he slid his hands around my waist and underneath my shirt, palms flat against my ribs. Soon, Juliana stood and left the room—a few minutes later, Max, and then Sadie, wandered off to bed, leaving Micah and me alone in the sitting room. Neither of us said anything, but then we didn't have to. We both wanted the same thing.

Micah slid his hands up my torso and arms, and my shirt was off before I knew what was happening. Then I was on my back and he was above me, his own chest deliciously bare, and he bent to kiss me. While we kissed the rest of our clothing disappeared as well, and Micah made his way down my body. He was gentle, as he always was, but I didn't want gentle. I wanted him.

Once Micah reached my thighs I shuddered and nearly cried out, and I bit a cushion—hard—to keep the others from hearing me and investigating. It was only then that I realized the one thing he hadn't done.

“My mark,” I panted. When Micah raised his
head and quirked a brow, I elaborated, “You haven't touched my mark.”

It was true—I was flat on my back on the couch, and he hadn't so much as grazed my mark, nor had I touched his. We'd always stroked and nibbled each other's marks in the past, before, during, and after our lovemaking.

Micah merely smiled. “Do I need to?”

Then he was standing above me, bare caramel skin glowing in the dim firelight, the evidence of his arousal plain. “Um, no.”

He laughed softly, then he settled himself between my thighs. “Really, here?” I asked, still slightly aghast that he was about to make love to me in the most public area of the manor.

“Here.” Then he grabbed my hips and thrust forward. And I…I had never been so happy in my life, making love to my
husband
for the first time.

“I miss the oaks,” I murmured afterward as we lay beneath the blanket, my head tucked against Micah's throat. “That was nice.”

“It was,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to my temple. “But I prefer having you as my wife.” I felt his face stretch into a smile, and he added, “While the oaks did an admirable job of keeping us safe, you will learn that I will move both heaven and earth just to make you smile.”

I snuggled against him. “I already knew that.”

“Did you?” he asked. “Good.”

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