Reluctant Adept: Book Three of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life (2 page)

"Just because you can do this sidestepping thing? They think you're an adept?"

I shrugged. "Pretty much. Kieran says he knew from the first time he touched me."

Her look of surprise compressed to a knowing smirk. "The first time he touched you, huh? Mr. TD&D—tall, dark, and dreamy?" She folded her arms and scowled at me. "I can't believe you haven't at least brought him by for a quick espresso."

"I think you mean a quick inspection."

"Exactly! I must see this
amazing
hair and absolute gorgeousness of which you speak," she said, drawing out the 'amazing' with a few extra vowels. "And he doesn't have my seal of approval yet," she added, flicking her wrist at me as though to swat me under the chin and making a 'pfft' sound. "What were you thinking?"

"Clearly, I wasn't." I mugged at her and then sighed, tipping back the last of my coffee. "Things have been a little crazy lately."

She leaned back, her expression turning serious. "I'm sorry about Daniel, Li-Li. I can't imagine how horrible that must have been for you." She shuddered and then shook her head. "And the whole thing with Vince … obviously, the detective had some serious baggage to unpack. You do not need that drama, girlfriend, know what I'm saying? Besides, Kieran sounds incredible." She looked at me speculatively. "But … aren't you worried about taking things a little fast? You guys just met … and now he's living with you?"

I shifted in my chair. It wasn't as if I hadn't winced over the speed of our relationship too, but somehow, when Kieran and I were together, my worries melted away at the astonishing
rightness
of it, as though I'd known him for years instead of weeks.

With the warmth of Kieran's favor burning inside me, I met her concerned gaze. "I know it's been fast, but we've been through a lot over the past few weeks. Evading certain death has a way of accelerating a relationship."

"I suppose so." After a moment, she brightened, her mouth quirking up at the right corner. "Girl, I think it's time for another party. Don't you?"

Little did she know … I hadn't even let slip about going to the Otherworld for my 'sabbatical' yet.

Resigning myself to her incoming freak out, I began, "You have no idea how good that sounds. Because, there's something else I have to tell you …

Damned if I'd let a demon invasion keep me away from Julie's party.

Kieran obviously didn't approve. But,
darn it
, it's not like the Apocalypse was showing up tomorrow. Or even, next month. This had nothing to do with preparing for battle. He just didn't like me leaving the protection of my building's wards and house djinn.

Red had always been the voice of caution when I wanted to do something stupid or reckless, but now, I was getting it from Kieran too. Red stood on the coffee table, his teddy bear paws folded across his ample tummy. From the couch, Kieran glowered at me under his dark, keenly-tapered brows. The concern of my protectors was both sweet, annoying, and complete overkill.

"Why do you insist on taking such a risk for something so frivolous?" Kieran asked.

I'd managed to keep my cool so far, but that about tore it. "I don't consider having friends
frivolous
," I said, biting out the word with the precision of a linguist. "And if you remind me one more time about being 'the one' and how important I am to the fate of the sidhe and humankind, I might strangle you. Did you know that Jackie's started calling me Neo?"

The Matrix
used to be one of my favorite movies. Not anymore. "It's no wonder with the way you and Kim and Brassal go on about your oracle's stupid-ass prophecy," I huffed.

Kieran's expression turned stony. He hated it when I dared to impugn his people's hallowed soothsayer.

Red tsked at me. "I believe Jackie's ribbing has more to do with your penchant for flying around Seattle's skyline and efforts at deflecting bullets."

"The business with the oracle and everyone telling me I'm 'the one' doesn't help," I muttered, but tamped down my indignation. Impersonating a petulant adolescent wouldn't help my cause. "I don't understand what has you two so worked up. It's a night out—three hours outside my building, tops. Now that the Invisius telepaths have stopped trying to turn my brain to mush, my life expectancy has improved tenfold."

Before either of them could issue a protest, I admitted: "I know things aren't perfect. Lorcán's still out there. I get it, but I'm not planning to wander down a dark alley at midnight. I just want to see Julie. Hang out with my friends for one darn night. Take my mind off this demon business for a few hours. I need a break. I want to talk about normal things to normal people who don't know what's coming."

Served me right. I mean, what kind of idiot thinks rallying a magical army to protect the world from the coming demonic scourge would be easy?

I sighed and massaged my forehead.
This kind,
apparently
—
a red-headed freckle-faced psychic with more power than skill.

Kieran abandoned his perch on the couch to stand before me. He squeezed my arm. "You've accomplished much. Thanks to you, Michael has Invisius Verso's telepaths well in hand. The vampires and the others will come around. If not …" He shrugged. "Eventually, they will see the truth. When they do, they'll seek you out."

"Later isn't good enough," I said tiredly. "If we wait for them to figure it out on their own, the demons will have time to infiltrate their ranks, just like they did with the telepaths. Fighting the invasion will be hard enough without possessed strigoi to deal with. We need them on our side, or at least
clued-in
, as soon as possible."

So far, I hadn't been able to get a single meeting with any of the major leaders. My street cred clearly sucked, or, perhaps it had something to do with the fact that I sounded like a doomsday prepper on the last day of the Mayan calendar.

Hi, my name is Lire Devon. As the Earth's first adept, I'm spearheading an alliance of the magically gifted to fight an invasion from Hell. How'd you and your friends like to join in the fun?

Was it any wonder getting a call through to the strigoi domn seemed to be about as easy as booking a private tryst with Bono? The vamp in their PR department had thoroughly stonewalled me, claiming he had no time to concern himself with unsubstantiated warnings, and the conversation went downhill from there. Maybe when the condescending prick saw the photos of the carnage that followed the demons' attack on the Invisius telepaths, he'd pull his fanged head out of his ass. The envelopes went out by FedEx two days ago, one to the domn at his compound in Iceland and the other to the PR twerp. I could have gone through Diedra, my friend from high school who worked for a strigoi clutch, but I didn't want her reputation to be on the line if my relationship with the domn went sideways.

I was still working on the werewolves. The isangrim's secretary promised to pass on my message when their council reconvened after spring hiatus. At least she hadn't threatened to send someone to drain every last drop of blood from my mangled body if I dared to call her again.

Thank God I had Jackie, Claude, and Duran helping me with the witches and warlocks, otherwise I'd be zero for four. Jackie and Claude were in discussions with the local Rowan collective, and Duran was using her juice with the largest Glindarian sect in the Pacific Northwest. Once relations were established, we'd use the Rowans and the Glindarians to approach the Arcane Council.

Not for the first time, I wondered how the heck I was going to persuade all these groups to cooperate. Six weeks ago, I'd been a thirty-year-old human clairvoyant—a psychic with the power to learn the secrets of anything I touched. A few magic curve balls later, I found myself wielding more power than I felt capable of handling, which is why Tíereachán had urged me to visit his mother, the amhaín. She was the last of the sidhe's portal adepts and the only one who could teach me what I needed to know. We were leaving for her domain in less than a week, and I had no clear idea when I would return. I just wanted to relax and enjoy one of my few remaining evenings in Seattle with my friends, and I wanted Kieran with me.

He smoothed a stray lock of my hair behind my right ear. "The Dawn of Convergence is still a few years away. Until the demon hordes can enter this world on their own, without the help of their summoners, we have time. But if you continue to take risks, you won't be here to exploit it."

I relished the concern in his deep, musical voice. And when he looked at me like that, with his striking angular features and intelligent gaze set with such tenderness, it was hard not to melt. I wanted to pinch myself whenever I thought of him as my … what? 'Boyfriend' seemed a little juvenile. Although he didn't look much older than my thirty, he was a twenty-seven-hundred-year-old sidhe. 'Lover' was a more accurate designation for what we were to each other, but no matter how inadequate 'boyfriend' sounded, there was no way I'd refer to Kieran as my lover in public. Way too much information.

"Lorcán is lying low," I reasoned. "He's not going to chance coming after me. Not when he's trying to avoid the king's notice. And certainly not when I'm at a party with you, surrounded by dozens of people, most of them magic users. Besides, now that Princess Bitch is on trial, why would Lorcán bother? It's not as though Maeve can reward him for claiming me. Kim says the king has Maeve locked up tighter than a leprechaun's— " I stopped before uttering Kim's memorable epithet and amended, "Uh, somewhere that puts even Alcatraz's anti-mage unit to shame."

Since I'd been responsible for bringing Maeve's treachery to light and ruined her chance to become the sidhe's next ruler, hearing Kim speak so confidently helped put my mind at ease. Pretty sure I'd shot to number one on Maeve's 'Top Ten Humans To Kill Slowly' list.

"It is not simply Lorcán, nor Maeve, who concern me," he said, spearing me with a meaningful look.

Yes, I knew, but I was doing my best to ignore it, which wasn't wise, all things considered. King Faonaín, ruler of the sidhe and Maeve's father, wasn't an adversary I should discount, not if I wanted to enjoy my continued freedom. And I wasn't sure that he thanked me for uncovering his daughter's machinations.

"It's a few measly hours," I said, chastened but no less determined. "Julie worked hard putting this party together, and I want to say goodbye to my friends."

I looked away. I was grateful for the opportunity to train with the amhaín, but I couldn't say I was entirely happy about it. I mumbled, "Who knows? It could be months, maybe years, before I see them again."

Kieran slipped his fingers under my chin and gently coaxed me to meet his gaze. His dark eyes conveyed the regret I might not have picked up in his voice. "You're a quick study. It won't be years."

"You don't know that."

"But it is a reasonable guess based on how easily you sidestepped and closed the demon gateway without training." He arched his brow, giving his features a deliberate, superior slant. "Surely, even my dear cousin would not argue with that, despite his fondness for contradicting me."

I smiled as he knew I would. Although Tíereachán took great pleasure in needling Kieran, there seemed to be an undercurrent of respect between them. They were family, after all.

"I thought we agreed the king won't break the Compact," I said. "He knows I'm going to his sister strictly for training. I have no intention of becoming one of her subjects. I'm not taking sides in their power struggle. I'm doing this for Earth, so we can fight the demons. Everyone knows that." I frowned at him. "Or is there something you haven't told me?"

The Compact, the ancient accord between King Faonaín, the amhaín, and the telepaths of Invisius Verso, had been in place for centuries, since the end of the sidhe civil war. Without an intact covenant, the king would be free to resume his efforts to exterminate the human race. Of course, such a response would likely reignite hostilities between King Faonaín and his sister, the amhaín, since it was the main reason for their rift.

Kieran's lack of response troubled me. So did his grim expression.

"Hello?"

His jaw tightened. "I've told you the facts I'm aware of, but Kim has been avoiding me. I don't like it."

As King Faonaín's emissary, Kim provided a means of communication with the Otherworld through her bond to her soulmate, Brassal, Kieran's most trusted friend. Neither of them would avoid Kieran without good reason.

"You are an outcast. Why does this surprise you?" Red asked.

I bit back a sigh, wishing Red hadn't spoken so candidly. Kieran's banishment by Maeve was a sore spot. Even more so, now, since the king didn't seem inclined to reverse it.

"She's not forbidden to
talk
to us," I replied. "She just can't share sensitive information about the realm, that's all. Same goes for Brassal."

I tried to recall the last time I'd seen either Kim or her partner, Jackie. It had been a couple days, I decided.

"Kim would find a way to warn us if she knew something," I said. "She'd tell Michael or Jackie if we were in danger, knowing they'd come to us." I frowned at his closed expression. "Don't you think?"