Fire in the Blood (14 page)

“You did agree to be a part of the new pan-magician council. If you continue with your plans you will put that in jeopardy,” Faust warned.

The vampire snarled and leapt to his feet, and it startled me enough that I jumped up and hovered thanks to my flaming wings. My sweetie put himself between me and his nephew, though it was unnecessary. I’d been able to kick Harrison’s ass as a summoner, I could do it as a faerie.

“I don’t care about the council, and I don’t care about being a kinslayer. My enemies will pay for what they’ve done,” Harrison said. Anger saturated his voice, and from my unique angle I spotted the gleam of madness in his eyes. Faust had said that Harrison had become unstable. It seemed like an understatement.

“Now, Zachary, I know you don’t mean that,” Faust scolded. “You’ll have to change your plans for Simon St. Jerome, because he is your kin as well.”

That sucked the wind right out of the vampire’s sails, and he froze.

“I know, right? The holidays are going to be wacky this year,” I commented. Faust sighed at me, and I smiled sweetly.

“How is that possible?” Harrison asked.

Faust opened his mouth to explain, but I was faster. “Well, when two people love each other very much—”

“Patience,” my sweetie warned, and I stopped. He turned his attention back to Harrison. “That isn’t your concern, Zachary. Now, I understand that you’re not well, and that you’re upset about losing Catherine, but—”

With an inhuman howl of rage Harrison grabbed hold of his desk and threw it at us. The thing was huge and heavy but he chucked it like a pillow. Faust and I dodged in different directions, and the desk splintered into several pieces when it crashed into the wall—it was an impressive display of temper, and I’ll admit, I was concerned.

“
Get out
!” he yelled.

I zoomed down, grabbed Faust’s collar, and ported us out of the room before the vampire could grab for him next. We reappeared in our hotel suite, our temporary base of operations, and Harvey looked up from his tablet.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

“Poorly,” I replied.

“If I’d had more time,” Faust began, but I shook my head. I hugged and kissed him, because I could tell that he was distraught over his nephew’s behavior.

“I know you want to help him, but he’s not listening. He’s going to need some major therapy.”

Harvey sniffed. “Don’t we all?”

“You’re not crazy. You’re special,” I assured him, and he laughed. I was still adjusting to the elven version of Harvey, but I had to admit that his laugh had greatly improved. It had gone from nasally chittering to a deep, masculine chuckle.

“So what next?” Harvey asked.

“Now we visit the Oberon and the Titania to inform them of the change in Patience’s condition,” Faust replied.

“Do we really have to? Can’t we have more honeymoon first?” I asked. We’d spent the weekend in Vegas, which hardly seemed long enough, but someone had to tend to the local wards, and that someone was me. Plus I didn’t want to deal with Lex Duquesne, because he’d only find a way to blame me for becoming a faerie, like it was against the law somehow.

“Yes, we have to. We might as well get it over with, and there is no time like the present.”

“Can I stay here?” Harvey asked.

“No. If I have to go, you have to go,” I argued.

He sighed. “Yes, Mistress.”

Technically I wasn’t his boss anymore, because I wasn’t a summoner and he wasn’t a demon, but I knew Harvey wouldn’t be comfortable calling me anything else. Just like I’d never be able to call him anything but Harvey, despite the fact that it wasn’t his True Name, and he didn’t look much like a Harvey anymore.

Faust popped us out of our hotel suite…and right into the library of Simon St. Jerome. I think we were all startled by that, but the Oberon and Titania were apparently having another chat with him, along with Mr. and Mrs. Black and Maxwell MacInnes.

“You know, for a woman who was so desperate to get away from vampires that she took a trip to a hell dimension and back, you really seem to spend a lot of time with the bloodsucker crowd,” I commented.

Everyone stared at me slack-jawed. “Patience?” the Oberon hazarded.

“Yup. I have wings now. Wings are cool.”

Aside from the giant flaming wings and green eyes, I didn’t look that different. I’d replaced most of my ink with new wards and fun things instead of favors. Faust had even added a few lines of text on my back, just above my wings. It was written in faerie, which I didn’t speak—yet—but I suspected it translated to “Property of Liam.”

I let him explain the story of my transformation—and Harvey’s, which was far more interesting in my humble opinion, because un-extincting an elf was a little like creating dinosaurs for
Jurassic Park
. The chroniclers appeared extremely interested, because learning magician history was their job, after all. Mrs. Emily Black seemed smug. Guess she enjoyed being proved right about the soul mates thing.

“And then Zachary Harrison threw a desk at us,” I added as he finished.

“He
threw
a
desk
at you?” the Titania replied.

“I did warn you that he is becoming increasingly unstable,” Faust said. “It is fortunate that you are no longer staying with him.”

“Why were you staying with him?” I asked.

“Hunters hit our place,” she explained.

“That seems to be going around lately. Where are you staying now?” I asked.

“The Duquesnes are currently our guests,” Mrs. Black spoke up. That explained why the Titania was at their place when Faust brought me to her for healing after my poisoned blade incident. War made strange bedfellows and all. “Where are
you
staying?”

I shrugged, the skin of my back tingling as my wings fluttered. “Technically we’re homeless. My place is trashed, his place is trashed. Harrison burned my office down. But faeries travel light, so we’re doing okay.”

“Have tablet, will travel,” Harvey added.

“We just wanted to update you. I’ll make sure the demon population stays in check, and we’ll keep an eye out for the hunters and keep the hell out of Harrison’s way,” I said.

“And pray for those who cross his path,” Faust added.

I nodded in agreement. I was glad that we were out of the vampire’s line of fire, but I had a sinking feeling that things were about to get ugly as far as he was concerned.

The Oberon snorted. “We can handle Harrison.”

“Really? He just threw a desk at us. You would’ve been gooey guardian paste on the wall,” I retorted.

Catherine Duquesne turned green, and I winced. As a newlywed, I sympathized, because I would’ve been upset if my honey had been squished by flying furniture.

“How do you suggest we handle young Mr. Harrison?” Simon asked.

“We try to make him go to rehab?” I said. The Titania snorted—guess she was the only one who got the joke. “Harrison is a
you
problem, not a
we
problem. I don’t think he’ll be stupid enough to come after us again, but if he does, we’ve got it covered.”

Simon folded his hands and eyed us calmly. “Perhaps, in the interest of magician cooperation, we should work together.”

“Why does that sound like a trap?” I asked.

“Because it probably is,” Harvey replied.

“What do you propose?” Faust asked, ignoring us.

“You could stay here for the time being. Maxwell has been renovating the house upstairs, and there should be room for all of you,” Simon offered.

I glanced at Harvey, and was certain that both of our expressions said,
Trap
! Faust and Simon eyed each other silently, and my high-speed faerie brain tried to list all the possible angles. As a chronicler I was sure that Simon would love to dissect both me and Harvey to discover the details of our transformation, but maybe Simon just wanted quality time to get to know his biological father. It seemed too sentimental for the man, but it was a strange, new world that we were living in… Nah. Dissection was more likely.

Faust cocked his head. “At no charge? Free to come and go as we please?”

“Of course. You would be my guests.”

“Well there’s a concept for a wacky sitcom,” I said. Harvey snickered.

“There is strength in numbers. It would be mutually beneficial,” Simon pointed out.

Considering we were faced with hunters, vampires and enough demons to keep me busy until the apocalypse rolled around, he had a point. I turned to my honey, and he nodded.

I shrugged. “Sure, sign us up.”

What was the worst that could happen?

About the Author

Robyn Bachar was born and raised in Berwyn, Illinois, and loves all things related to Chicago, from the Cubs to the pizza. It seemed only natural to combine it with her love of fantasy, and tell stories of witches and vampires in the Chicagoland area. As a gamer, Robyn has spent many hours rolling dice, playing rock-paper-scissors and slaying creatures in MMPORGs.

You can learn more about her at
www.robynbachar.com
. Robyn can also be found on Twitter at
www.twitter.com/RobynBachar
.

Look for these titles by Robyn Bachar

Now Available:

Bad Witch

The Importance of Being Emily

Blood, Smoke and Mirrors

Bewitched, Blooded and Bewildered

Cy’ren Rising

Nightfall

Her heart says “never”. Her body says “now”.

Nightfall

© 2012 Robyn Bachar

Cy’ren Rising, Book 1

When a wounded runner stumbles into her workshop, sculptor Talena Spenser’s comfortable, quiet life is shattered. Aiding the escaped slave risks losing more than just her freedom. She is in phase, when Cy’ren females are overwhelmed by the drive to mate.

Mordacki Loren, shadow sword of House Nightfall, knows the pain of losing a mate. He never intended to take another. But Talena, raised by humans with little knowledge of Cy’ren ways, leaves him no choice. As the mating lust consumes them, Dack promises to honor her wishes—even if that means letting her go.

Scarred and hardened by a munitions accident that sent her Alliance career up in flames, Carmen Hawke joined the Cy’ren resistance as captain of the flagship Talon. When old flame Dack returns from a mission with Carmen’s childhood friend and first love, Talena, in tow, the temptation to allow someone—or two someones—close to her again cracks her emotional armor.

Pursued by an unknown enemy, the trio works together to discover the secrets of Talena’s past, and to uncover a threat that could destroy the fragile peace of the Cy’ren homeworld.

Warning: If the epic space battles, gunfights and swordplay aren’t enough to get you going, strap yourself in for a male-female-female threesome that’s scorching enough to fire your engines into overdrive.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Nightfall:

Dack assumed it was luck that had turned his attention to Talena’s shop. Instead the subtle perfume of her pheromones must have drawn him there, like an invisible hook pulling him along through the corridors of the ship. He hadn’t noticed her scent before, distracted by pain and the stench of his own blood and singed flesh, but now it was clear. Warm and intoxicating, the effect wove through his body like the glow of a strong brandy.

Damn.

Talena’s golden eyes watched him warily, and her hesitation quieted some of the desire stirring in his veins, buying them time to talk. He thought he’d been rescuing a reluctant slave. He’d freed countless Cy’ren, and sometimes they were afraid of freedom at first, because they’d never known another life. Guilt flooded Dack at the realization that he’d kidnapped a free female, bringing her ruin instead of rescue.

As the initial shock passed, he wondered why she had no familial marks. After a few generations many slaves no longer knew their houses, but they usually had a mark bearing a parent’s name. “You have no house?” he asked.

“Not that I know of. I was separated from my family, and the ship I was on erased all their records when they were boarded.”

“What’s your full name?”

She bowed her head, and stray locks of her hair fell into her face. “I don’t know my Cy’ren name, if I had one. I don’t remember anything of my life before I was rescued. The doctors said it has something to do with trauma.”

His heart sank. Poor girl. “My name is Mordackai Loren, shadow sword of House Nightfall.”

Talena nodded, but he didn’t see any recognition in her expression. Being freed at such a young age, she might not know anything of their people. At least she would gain a house by becoming his mate. Dack sighed—he’d gone out of his way to avoid taking another mate after he lost Kira. It appeared fate had other plans.

“How long until your ship arrives?” she asked.

He glanced at the chronometer. “Four hours and ten minutes. If they aren’t delayed.” She flinched at the number, and he grimaced. He couldn’t avoid her for more than an hour, not in this small, enclosed space. Dack already felt an insistent need elbowing its way past the pain of his wound and the adrenaline of the gunfight. “I’m sorry, Talena. I won’t hurt you, I promise.”