| |
I wake slowly, blinking and stretching and wondering why I feel so rested. I can’t remember the last time I had such a good night’s sleep.
Wait.
The abominations. The city street...
Memory rushes back in and my eyes pop open as I sit up in a rush, staring wildly around the room. I’m in my own bed. How did I get here?
I put a hand to the back of my head, feeling for lumps or blood, or even any tenderness, but it all feels perfectly normal. As do my ribs. I take a tentative breath in, checking for pain or discomfort from broken bones and puncture wounds, but everything seems to be working as it should.
Did the attack actually happen? It felt so real. Surely, it couldn’t have been a nightmare?
From behind the screen that separates my bed from the rest of the studio apartment, a throat clears. I jump out of bed.
“You’re awake.” The deep voice is full of relief.
Rhodri.
“How long did I sleep?” I fold back the screen, expecting the fae prince, only to find my apartment full of people.
I take a step back, then look down to make sure I am actually properly clothed. Might not be my Sunday best, but at least all the essential bits are covered with a tee-shirt and fleecy leggings. Not what I was wearing when I left work. I hope it was Rhodri who changed me. Out of all of them in the room, he’s the only one who has seen me naked.
I stare around at the group, mentally identifying them all without needing introductions.
“Rhodri, Tarrien. And, Luc.” I turn to the two women among the group, perched together on my sofa. Two women who look so much like me that there’s no question as to who they must be. Unless, of course, these are other half-siblings I haven’t yet heard of. “I assume you two must be Indigo and Aleah?”
The one wearing a slinky black dress, high heeled sandals, and bright red lipstick lifts her hand. “Indie. Pleased to meet you in person at last, Maewen.”
I nod, wishing I at least had shoes on. Everything about Indie is perfection personified, from the top of her flowing dark hair down to her red-painted toenails.
“And of course, that makes me Aleah.”
The other one has no make-up on, and a slightly softer look about her than Indie. She is wearing jeans and a tee-shirt and casual boots. She sports a shy smile. I feel slightly less intimidated by my country-dwelling relative.
She steps forward and extends a hand. “Nice to meet you, sis.”
Sis? Feeling dazed and confused, I take Aleah’s hand and shake. It is quite disconcerting to look into the face of someone who resembles your own reflection.
Make that two “someones”. I slant another glance at Indie and find her studying me with undisguised curiosity. The three of us could easily pass for triplets, though I know from my phone discussion with Indie that she is the oldest at thirty-one, followed by me at thirty, and then Aleah is the baby of us all at twenty-nine.
Mother didn’t muck around in popping us all out one after the other. Not for the first time, I wonder why the banshee Renna felt the need to create so many of us. Along with that is the underlying question as to why she never bothered to stick around and raise us. She visited me once, when I was young, but that was the extent of her parenting. That, however, is a question for another time. Right now, there are more pressing concerns.
“Not wanting to be rude or anything, but someone better explain what’s going on. Why are you all hanging out in my apartment watching me sleep? And, for that matter, how the hell did I get here, when last time I was conscious I was trapped beneath a dead headless shifter, wondering if one or both of my lungs had been punctured and whether that, or my head wound, would kill me first? Did one of you magic me better? And were those abominations lying in wait for me, outside work?”
“We think so, boss,” Luc Durand says. “I suggest you take a seat. We all have a lot to discuss.”
“No shit.” I look around. All the available seats are taken. My studio is not designed for this many visitors.
I back up and perch on the edge of the bed.
Rhodri, who has been standing near the now-folded-back screen, shoots me a questioning look and, when I nod, takes a seat beside me. His body warmth instantly comforts me. At least it does, until he opens his mouth.
“Technically we weren’t watching you sleep, by the way,” he says. “That would be creepy, wouldn’t it? We were sitting here waiting for you to wake, but we did put up the screen to give you some privacy in the meantime.”
I spear him with a stare. “Great. Thanks for that. Now spill. What is going on?”
Indie crosses one elegant leg over the other. “Rhodri brought you back here after the attack, and called us all. Tarrien used his warrior magic to heal you.”
There’s a touch of pride in her voice as she states the latter, and I notice she has her fingers entwined with Tarrien who is seated beside her.
Tarrien gives her an indulgent look. “I’m good at that, aren’t I? I’ve done it for all three of you, now.”
I manage not to roll my eyes but I notice Luc is not so circumspect as me. The vamp detective and I share a brief grin. The truth is, physically I feel damn good. Better than I have in years, so I guess I’ll have to allow Tarrien a bit of self-congratulation because he does appear to deserve it.
“Thank you for healing me, Tarrien,” I say. “Good job.”
Everyone seems to relax a notch, even Rhodri beside me, and I wonder if I really am so grouchy and unapproachable that they thought I would be mad about being saved from injury and possible death.
Jeez. I know I can be prickly, but I don’t think I’m that much of a monster. Am I?
Come to think of it, I owe Rhodri some thanks, too.
“You saved my life, back there with the abominations. No way I could have taken out that were before it got me. Thank you.”
Rhodri looks pleased, and a thought occurs to me.
“How did you know I was in trouble? Or was it merely coincidental timing, that you arrived when you did?“
“Ah.” Rhodri shrugs as if trying to loosen his shoulder muscles.
The tension in the room notches up.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Well?”
“I...um...well...I planted a tracking mike on your shirt. I was still in Faerie when I heard that thing say it was going to take you.”
“You did what?”
Luc Durand stands and moves in that fluid way vamps have, closer to Rhodri and me on the bed. “Steady, boss. Remember his action saved your life. He only wants to protect you. We all do.”
As fast as my temper flared, it deflates into nothing. Luc is right. And Rhodri looks suitably wary. He knows he crossed a line, there.
“Just ask me next time, okay?” I say.
Luc moves back to squeeze in beside Aleah.
“I will,” Rhodri says. “I give you my word, Maewen.”
He lays a hand on my thigh as if to confirm his sincerity. I imagine his fingers traipsing their way further up my leg until he reaches my mound and begins to explore more fully. Stop, I tell my brain. Stop thinking about that, in a room full of people you barely know. Concentrate on what really matters.
I must communicate something of my conflicted thoughts, because Rhodri squeezes my leg briefly and then removes his hand altogether. But the memory of his fingers on my flesh, even through the thick fleece of my track pants, remains for a while.
“After I called Tarrien and brought you back here, we contacted Luc,” Rhodri says. “While Tarrien worked to heal you, Luc arranged for Indie and Aleah to get here, too. It’s time we all work together to stop this threat. And we have a way to do that, Mae. Tarrien’s dad contacted him again last night.”
Now they have my attention.
“You could have led with that!” At their gaping looks, I try to soften my tone. “Okay, I guess you would have, if I’d let you. Tarrien, can you catch me up please? I feel as if you all know more than me at the moment.”
I don’t like that feeling at all.
Tarrien unclasps his hand from Indie’s, and leans forward. “Father wanted to know more about my protection duties, particularly as it pertains to banshee-human hybrids.”
My heart thumps hard. The threat is real, particularly for the females in this room, and maybe for other siblings out there I have yet to discover.
“What did you tell him?” I ask.
Tarrien glances at Rhodri before he answers, as if seeking permission to speak. Sometimes I forget that Rho is a royal, and therefore Tarrien’s boss. Rhodri gives a tiny nod, and Tarrien continues.
“I told him I had been tasked by the prince to guard all three of you, and it was proving difficult given how different you all are from each other and how you all tend to want to go off on diverse tangents.”
I frown. “That’s not good. I need him to focus on me, not...” It seems ridiculous to be shy saying their names. I swallow and finish, “I do not want him focusing on Indie or Aleah.”
Indie sits forward. “We’re not delicate freaking flowers, Maewen.”
Aleah moves on the couch, clearly not to be outdone by her half-sister’s attitude. “No, we’re not. Indie’s right. We’re half-banshee. We’re stronger than you think. And I want to take down these bastards who killed my dad. And my friends.”
Something shifts within me. I’m not the only one of us who has lost people in the past. Of course, I already know that on a rational level, but somehow, Aleah’s words reinforce the fact that my losses are not unique.
“You’re right. I’m sorry about your dad, Aleah.” My voice is gruff. “And your best friend, Indie.”
My songstress half-sister mentioned what happened to her friend Sienna when we spoke on the phone. Both women acknowledge my words with a nod.
“We’ll stop them,” I say in what I hope is an encouraging tone. “One banshee hybrid might be tough, but imagine the three of us working together. There’ll be no stopping us.”
I don’t expect the sense of family that rises within me to be so strong. I haven’t experienced “family” for many years. Even back in my teens, when my father was still speaking to me, I had to hide the banshee side of myself because that was the side that meant death. Destruction.
After the library “incident”, as he always called it, my dad never wanted to be reminded of the fact that I’m not fully human. He last spoke to me on my eighteenth birthday, when I told him I was about to enlist as a cop. A supernatural cop. He laughed, and then realized I was serious. All the angst and horror that he had obviously been holding in since my birth spewed out of him in rage-filled vitriol.
I will never forget that day as long as I live. It was the day I realized my beloved dad hated my banshee half as much as he loved my human half. The hatred won, and I packed up and left home the following morning.
He has never spoken a word to me since, even though, after several months, I did try to reach out and bridge the gap between us.
Family, to me, means betrayal. Loss. Aloneness.
My dad’s rage is one of the key reasons I decided to ignore my fae heritage and concentrate on the human.
I don’t expect to look at two almost-strangers on the couch in my tiny lounge room, and feel the welcome connection of blood.
I never thought I would look around a room and see a whole bunch of people who care.
Too much is happening, in too short a time frame, to know how to process everything properly. First Rhodri, being there physically when I needed him, and then afterward, offering comfort and warmth when I wasn’t looking for any such thing.
Now two of my sisters are sitting on my couch staring at me with matching sets of eager green eyes, determined to help me bring down a bunch of crazed killers. Fear for their safety fills my heart.
And yet, I can also see the strength shining through in their features. You don’t have to always do things alone. Accept their help. Trust that they are up to the task.
I nod, not hiding my dissatisfaction with the idea but knowing we have a better chance if we work together rather than individually. Maybe that has been the problem, all these years. Everyone going after the bad guys on their own, instead of pooling resources and working together.
“All right,” I say. “So, you’ve told your dear old dad that we’re a bunch of diverse creatures, Tarrien. Difficult to manage. What next?”
Rhodri clears his throat. Everyone looks at him. Even that innocuous sound seems regal and demanding of attention, when it comes from the prince’s throat.
“Yes?” I ask, when he remains silent.
“Why don’t you all go away together? A...sister’s retreat, or something. If you want to offer bait, then all three of you in the one place...”
He trails off, but I can’t get past his suggestion.
“A sister’s retreat?” I don’t realize how strangled my voice must sound, until Indie bursts out laughing.
“Jesus, Maewen, don’t sound so horrified. I’ve only just met Aleah, here, too, but we’re not so bad, I promise.”
My cheeks heat with embarrassment.
“No, it’s not that. It’s...” How can I explain how awkward I feel? I’m not used to “peopling”, other than in a work-related manner. Even my sexual encounters have been brief and impersonal. I just don’t do relationships well. And that includes my newly discovered sisters. “Where do people go for a retreat like that? And how would we ensure protection?”
I cannot believe I am asking this. A retreat? Isn’t that for entitled rich people who want to commune with nature and eat healthy food, or do yoga?
“What about a spa resort?” Indie taps a long red fingernail against her lips.
Aleah’s brows rise.
“You want to go to a spa? With Aleah, and...me?” My voice ends on a squeak.
Rhodri begins to chuckle and I reach across and punch him almost-gently in the ribs.
“Ow!” He rubs his side. “I think that’s an excellent idea. And I have just the place in mind. We can set up protection there quite easily, ahead of your visit, and it is feasible for the three of you to want to get to know each other, so that might put Targon off the scent, even if he does suspect a trap. Excellent.”
Humor lights his features as he smiles at me, and I narrow my eyes. “You have a human realm spa resort in your repertoire, Rhodri? Interesting.”
What fae prince would be familiar with such a place? I live here, for God’s sake, and I have no idea where the nearest spa might be.
“An acquaintance of mine owns it. A mage by the name of Topaz,” he says, and I feel the blood drain out of my cheeks.
No way. No freaking way.
“Are you all right, boss?” Luc asks, frowning at me.
“Yep. All good.”
Topaz. Surely, there can’t be two witch mages with the same name in the city. I know the witch who sold me the charm is in the healthcare business, but surely not... a spa retreat?
Indie perks up. “Oh, I know of Topaz. She and her cousin run the best spa in the state. It’s perfect for...I mean, well...” She falters, blushing, then adds, “I know we’ll only be going there under a pretext, to catch a raving lunatic or two, but still...”
She sits back, leaning into Tarrien as if drawing comfort from his proximity.
I wonder what it would be like to know someone else has your total support in that way? I’m tempted to lean sideways, into Rhodri, just to test things out, but I resist the urge. We had sex once. And I used him, to assuage a need. What we have—or had—is nothing like what Tarrien and Indie obviously share. Nor what Aleah and Luc have. I intercept a loving glance between my vamp team member and my youngest half-sister, and a pang of envy shards my chest.
Rhodri suddenly stands and begins to pace the small room. “I spoke with Father about raising the whole winter army, should I need it. And in this case, I think we do. Might be overkill, but the more manpower we have at our disposal in this operation, the better. Tarrien, you should let slip to your father that the girls are going to the retreat. I’ll give you the address details later. Even if he suspects you’re trying to manipulate him, surely he’ll take the bait, if banshee blood really is as powerful as they say.”
He stops pacing and clenches his hands by his side.
“My mother will likely stop at nothing, if she thinks she can access the power she needs to let chaos reign and cause the Accord to fail. This will work. I’m sure of it.” His shoulders roll back and his chin comes up. “I won’t let her get away with it any longer.”
For the first time, I see how much this whole thing is affecting Rhodri. I’ve been so focused on trying to figure out how to stop Rhiannon and her supporters, I haven’t considered the fact that it is actually his mother in the lead on this carnage. How must it feel, to know the woman who gave him life, is so focused on taking it away from everyone else?
I stand too, and stretch. “I don’t mean to be rude, but can everyone please leave, now?”
It’s too much. I need some space to consider everything, and with all of them crowding me, it feels as if I cannot breathe. I don’t want to be bad-mannered, but I can’t do this a moment longer, tonight.
“Tarrien, you speak with your dad, if you can,” I say. “And Rhodri can arrange the spa visit. We can all reconvene on bait day, with Rhodri’s winter army, and my team, in place ready to pounce.”
Bait day. My heart speeds up at the thought of it.
Luc and Aleah rise together and move toward the front door of the apartment. Tarrien and Indie link arms as he reaches for his ring. Rhodri starts to do the same, but I stay him with a tiny gesture.
I need to speak to him without the others around.
When everyone else is gone, I take a deep breath in and let it out slowly. Amazing how much freer I suddenly feel, when my own apartment is not filled with a bunch of people I hardly know. Rhodri watches me carefully, a brow rising as I gesture at the now-vacant couch.
“Do you want to know more about the spa resort, Maewen? Are you wondering how I know the witch who runs it?”
“No, not at all.” What a lie. We both know it. I huff out a breath. “Well, yes, actually. That wasn’t why I asked you to remain, but...yes.”
I shrug, unable to explain why a spark of jealousy flares within me. He owes me nothing. But the thought of the remarkably attractive Topaz, coupling with Rhodri...
I clear my throat. “You said, Topaz? Is she someone you...uh...”
He stares intently at me, which makes meeting his gaze even harder. “She is not one of my lovers, Maewen.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Nor do I wish her to be. She is someone who reached out to the Winter Court, many years ago now, for assistance with a...personal matter. She owes Winter Faerie a debt, and now it is time for us to collect.”
Interest piques in me. The mage I know from the shop in the city always seems so calm and collected. I can’t imagine her having any sort of personal issue or crisis that would require incurring a debt from Faerie. If there’s one thing I know about the fae, it is that you do not want to ever be in a situation where they hold a debt over your head.
“Does she, by any chance, own a spell shop, here in town?”
I ask the question nonchalantly, but Rhodri’s eyes narrow.
“Yes, she does. She lives and works in the city. Her spa up in the mountains is actually run by a manager. Her cousin, Amethyst.” His gaze drops to the ring I’m twirling on my little finger. “Topaz?”
I slowly nod. How many witches of that name could there be in the city? How many would run a spell shop and sell charms?
His brows rise. “Small world.”
“It is indeed.”
A short silence ensues, before he asks, “Is that all you wanted to know?”
“Ah. No.” I take a seat on the couch and pat the cushion beside me, waiting for him to comply before I continue.
I swallow hard. “I wanted to apologize properly for the other night. You know. The, ah, sex thing.” I’m blushing. I can feel the heat, but I have to say this. “It was wrong of me to take advantage of you in that way. I shouldn’t have—”
“Wait.” He holds up a hand. “Take advantage? You, take advantage of me? Don’t be ridiculous, Maewen, you did nothing of the kind. I admit, I was somewhat surprised when the evening became something other than what I expected when I ported in to rescue you.”
I start to interject, but he waggles his hand side to side.
“I know, you didn’t need rescuing, but I didn’t know that at the time. It was my choice whether or not to accept what you were offering, and believe me, Mae, I did not wish to say no. Yes, it was unexpected, and perhaps a little more rushed than what I’d like, but it was not something I regret at all. Do you? Regret it?”
His sudden question, and the accompanying steady regard, throws me off balance. Do I regret what happened? I can’t in all honesty say that I do.
I shake my head, looking down at the floor. My sudden shyness in his presence annoys me, but I can’t seem to control my reactions as well as I would like whenever he’s around.
“I don’t regret it.” I speak so quietly my voice is almost a whisper.
He leans toward me and chucks me under the chin, forcing my gaze up to meet his. “I am very glad to hear that, Inspector Maewen Jones. I would very much like to revisit what we did, only next time, I intend to take things much more slowly.”
My breath hitches in my throat. His eyes are pools of blue, no longer icy but very warm indeed. “Slowly? I...think I’d like that, Rho.”
I only hope we will both live long enough to have the chance to explore what “taking it slow” actually means.
