Eye of the Tempest (39 page)

“Something different?” I asked, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Travel, move into your own apartment, move away from Rockabill even.” He paused when he saw the look in my eye, adjusting his tone so it was even softer, gentler. “I am
not
saying I want you to go. I’d love for you to stay here, and in our home, for as long as you want. But I do want you to know I’ll love you just as much if you decide you need your own space.”

“What if I want to join a cult, shave my head, and become adept at making Kool-Aid?”

“Then I’m locking you in the basement.”

I giggled. “Thanks, Dad.” I thought of what the creature had said, about war coming. “I might have to leave at some point. And it’s good to know you’ll understand.”

We sat in silence for a few moments, my dad’s hand still on my knee.

“All right, then. Next stop, Anyan’s. Will you be coming home at all?” he asked.

“Um,” I said, as he shook his head.

“Never mind. Just because I support your independence doesn’t mean I want to know any details.”

Smart man, I thought, as I leaned back in my seat, visions of opposable thumbs dancing in my head.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

My dad beat a hasty retreat after he dropped me off at Anyan’s cabin, which was blazing with light. I stood for a second in the driveway, looking at the setting that had featured so heavily in my mirror fantasies.

Is this what I want?
I thought to myself. Right then, the screen door opened and out stepped Anyan, dressed only, and mouthwateringly, in some trashy-chic ragged jeans and a tight white T-shirt. Surprisingly, it bore an advert for Whiskas.

No
, my libido chimed in, addressing my brain’s question. My mouth had actually begun watering.
He is what you want
.

I strode toward the barghest, not caring that I was covered in mud, with ripped clothes and hair sticking out in a million directions. Or that I was carrying an ax. And, except for giving my new toy a funny look, Anyan obviously didn’t care what I looked like, either. He met me halfway down his wide front steps only to pick me up in those strong arms and hold me, ax and all.

I shuddered and clung to Anyan, the relief I felt at that moment so palpable it was like a tennis ball in my throat.

“I missed you,” I whispered, knotting my dirty hands in his hair.

His only response was to squeeze me tighter against him.

“I wish I could say the same thing,” he said, “but I remember nothing.”

“Nothing?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he replied. “I just woke up here, naked, with a half-chewed rawhide toy hanging out of my mouth. Then I wasn’t able to get ahold of anyone, at all, except for Iris who said that you’d gone down a hole a while ago, and hadn’t been seen since. I was freaking out. Especially since I can’t remember anything after a couple of days ago.”

And that’s probably for the best
, I thought,
what with all the ball licking, peeing on things, and sniffing of the pee
.

“Trill told me I was just a dog, thankfully. It couldn’t have been that bad, right?”

I made noncommittal if vaguely soothing noises and squirmed myself even tighter against him.

Not a dog now
, my libido cooed, happily, as Anyan stroked a big hand down my back.

He walked up his stairs and into his house, and then he carried me into his lounge to sit with me, still attached to him like a burr, on his sofa. Before we sat down, I threw my labrys on his chair-and-a-half when I had the chance.

“You’re filthy,” he said softly, as he arranged us so that I was lying across his lap, my head cradled on his shoulder. It was delightful, and it kept his sofa clean, the practical canine.

“I was spelunking.”

“You found a souvenir?” he asked, gesturing toward the ax.

“It’s a long story.”

“And one I want to hear. Tell me what happened,” he said. “Did you destroy the threat?”

“No,” I said. “Well, maybe yes, if you mean Phaedra. She’s dead.”

Anyan sucked in a breath. “Dead? Are you sure?”

“Yep. Impaled on a tentacle. It was gross.”

“Wow. You didn’t…”

“Nope, no tentacles. I did kinda kick her ass, though.”

“Good for you,” he said and grinned. “And what about the labrys?”

“You know what it is!”

“Of course. And I can teach you to use it.”

I sighed happily, snuggling closer against him. “Of course you can, clever puppy.”

“May I ask how you acquired it?”

“A magical creature from the dawn of time conned me into taking it, and now I’m its champion.”

“Huh,” the barghest said. “You are, are you?”

“Yep,” I replied, my voice thick with exhaustion. “But more like Joan of Arc, I think. Only hopefully without being martyred and all of that.”

“So an ancient creature made you its champion. Why does it need one?”

“Cuz it’s trapped, and for good, now. It wanted me to destroy the only sigil that could free it, so it didn’t have to worry. It scoots around in our minds, I think, so it doesn’t need its body anymore, anyway.”

“Scoots around in our minds?” Anyan asked, clearly uncomfortable with that idea.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “It’s not all judgy and human. It just watches.”

“Hmmm,” he grumbled, frowning. “So it’s no longer a threat?”

“It was never really a threat. It is, genuinely, nice. It didn’t even need to be imprisoned. The Alfar just did that so—”

“I know,” he interrupted. “We all saw that part. The creature must have wanted us to know the truth.”

“How far did the visions go?” I asked.

“Just around Rockabill. Caleb called Ryu and a few other contacts, and no one outside the town saw anything.”

“Did the humans?” I asked, horrified, and then I realized how inaccurate that question was.

“If you mean our nonmagical brothers and sisters, then yes. They did. But we’ve glamoured everyone to think that some addled hipsters from New York came and dumped LSD in the water. We’re stretching that story to cover the possessions, too.”

“Who came up with that? It’s terrible,” I said.

“Amy,” Anyan responded. “She likes to blame everything on drugs, ironically enough.”

“And hipsters,” I affirmed. “Anyway, so you know that we’re all just humans? But like mutated or whatever?”

He smiled at me. “I’ve always had a hunch.”

And then I remembered that night after my mom was murdered when he told me that I had to stay human, that all of us had to stay human. I thought he’d meant something all philosophical and hippie-dippie, but he was being literal.

“How’d you know?” I asked.

“Well, people like you, for starters. We couldn’t be all that different if we could breed together and make little Janes. Plus, I’ve seen others do what Carl’s done.” Carl was Capitola’s dad, who’d cut himself off from magic to die with his human wife.

“He’s just like a human, isn’t he?” I said.

“Exactly. Anyway, I had my theories.”

“And they were right,” I said, nuzzling my nose against that beautiful crooked thing protruding from the center of his face.

I left a big streak of black dirt on his flesh.

“I think I need a shower,” I said. Then I yawned.

“And bed,” he replied.

I raised my eyebrows at him.

“For sleep, little minx” he said, smiling at me. But I could see the heat in his eyes.

He stood, still cradling me in his arms, and then headed upstairs. To be honest, I was grateful. As soon as we’d sat down together, and the warmth of his body had started to seep into my bones, I’d become unspeakably tired.

I did make sure my ax would be safe on his chair, and that his chair would be safe from my ax, before I let him whisk me away to his bathroom.

To my disappointment, he left me to my own devices to shower after rustling me up some towels and a toothbrush. I cleaned myself up thoroughly, depositing what appeared to be about ten tons of mud down Anyan’s drain, and then brushed my teeth and dried my hair as best I could before combing it out with my fingers and one of Anyan’s much-too-small combs.

And I was not at all disappointed to find, when I walked out of the shower wrapped in one of Anyan’s huge towels, what appeared to be a deliciously naked barghest waiting for me under the sheets. His room was dark, in a dark house, which held no one else.

No one who will need milk
, I thought, shifting nervously on my feet.

I gaped at him for a moment or two, trying to resolidify my knees and make my mouth work.

“If this isn’t what you want, please tell me,” he said, his voice quiet in the dark room.

I took a deep breath, forcing my lungs to breathe. I hoped to say something elegant and sexy. Instead, I said:

“I want.”

Luckily, it worked. He smiled. I nearly swooned.

“Um, I forgot to borrow a shirt,” I said, not moving from the doorway to the bathroom.

“You don’t need a shirt,” he said, his voice low and gentle. “Come here.”

I walked toward him, feeling like my legs were made of wet noodle. When I was standing next to his side of the bed, he reached out a hand and slid it over my knee, up my thigh, to the edge of the towel. Then he tugged, gently.

“Off,” he commanded. I held on for dear life.

“Off,” he repeated, meeting my black eyes with his iron-gray ones. This time I let him tug the towel away from my body so that it pooled around my feet.

“C’mon in,” he said, scootching over to give me space.

I laid down next to him, but he wouldn’t let me pull up the sheet that, unfairly enough, covered the lower half of his body.

“You, my love, are a mess,” he said, as he ran his hand up my rib cage, causing me to wince.

“Huh?” I asked, looking down. Sure enough, he was right. Cleaning all the mud off had revealed a mass of bruises covering my torso, arms, and legs. A particularly livid affair had set up home on the inside of my right thigh. I was so out of it I hadn’t even noticed.

“I always have liked the color purple,” I said, as Anyan’s gaze raked over my body. He looked at me with that wonderful combination of protective and predatory that only the barghest could get away with.

“Now, whose ass did you kick, again?” he asked, meeting my eyes as he lowered his lips—trailing healing warmth—to a large bruise on my shoulder.

“Um, Phaedra’s,” I said. “I think most of these are from the fall.”

“Fall?” he asked, trailing his healing lips down my arm, stopping at every bruise and scrape on the way.

“Mmm-hmm,” I murmured. “Although there was a lot of fighting, too. I beat up the harpies, Graeme, and Phaedra.” Then I realized what I’d said and sat bolt upright. “I wonder if Graeme survived the cave-in?”

Anyan pushed me back down beside him, gently.

“No Graeme. Not now. But what cave-in?”

“There was a cave-in, apparently. I wasn’t there. Blondie had sent me ahead.”

“She sent you ahead, did she?” Anyan asked, disapproval written all over his face as he shifted me around to his other side so he could have at my left arm. When that was all bruise free, he moved his dark head over my mottled belly.

“I’m the champion. So, yes,” I said, resisting the urge to follow that single affirmation up with Molly Bloom’s exultant “Yes! Yes! Yes!” shouted to the cosmos. It’s just that he was using his teeth, on my ribs, making my hurts zing even as he healed them.

Wicked barghest
, my virtue swooned.

And he’s not even used his thumbs, yet
, my libido marveled, clearly in awe.

“Those aren’t bruises,” I panted, as he latched onto a nipple.

“Hush,” came his muffled reply.