“Thank you,” I said to the four other people in the Range Rover. Dominic had parked in the roundabout driveway, just before the entrance to the house, but I wanted each of them to know how grateful I was that they’d kept their word—and their silence, where Marcus was concerned—before we got out of the car. “Really—” I met each of their eyes, even Dominic’s in the rearview mirror. “Thank you.”
I glanced down at my hands, fidgeting with the hem of my shorts. “And, um, you might want to steer clear of the house for a couple hours.” Passion had never been an issue where Marcus and I were concerned, and usually I viewed that fact in a very, very positive light, but that same passion made our relationship just a touch volatile at times. And I had no doubt that the conversation Marcus and I were about to have was going to be one of those times.
Neffe ended up being the only person to actually get out of the car with me at the house, Nik and Kat opting to remain with Dominic until he’d parked in the huge detached garage nearby.
“You don’t have to come in with me,” I told her as we walked up the broad paved steps leading up to the front door. “I’m perfectly capable of handling him on my own.” The tension tightening my shoulders and making my neck and head ache suggested otherwise, but I ignored it. Brave face and all that.
Neffe snorted. Apparently she didn’t believe me either. “I’m heading straight down to the lab.” She glanced at me sidelong. “It’s soundproofed.”
I inhaled deeply, but a sudden spurt of anxiety made me feel like I couldn’t exhale all the way. “Good idea.”
As I reached for the door handle, the knob turned and the door opened. I had to swallow a yelp. “Marcus!” I said too brightly. “We’re back!” I leaned in and kissed him, and before he could wrap his arms around me in a full embrace, I slipped past him through the door and started across the entryway to the grand staircase. “I’m beat.” I paused to glance at him over my shoulder, hoping my expression contained more come-hither than holy-shit. “Warm bath?”
His features were unreadable, his golden eyes equal parts black pupil and brilliant iris. In other words, he looked normal, for him. So far, so good. “Where are Dom and Nik?”
I forced a carefree smile. “Parking in the garage. Kat’s with them, too.” I shrugged. “Dom said something about a lesson . . .”
Marcus blinked, his face still expressionless. “I see.” His focus shifted to his daughter, who had almost successfully made it across the entryway to the door leading down to her lab in the basement. “How did it go today, Neffe?”
“Fine.”
His eyes narrowed minutely. If I hadn’t been watching for it, I wouldn’t have noticed. It was the first sign that he knew something was up.
Get out of here, Neffe! I did my best to relay the mental shout with my eyes, but one look at Neffe told me she was already on the same page. The last thing I wanted was for her to get caught up in the shitstorm that I was about to hurtle into headlong. After all, she’d only been following my orders—and I’d had to remind her of her oath to me to get her to agree.
“What did you discover?” Marcus asked his daughter as he shut the front door.
“I think I’ve identified the poison, but it’s too soon to tell for sure,” Neffe said, patting her insulated tote and once again heading for the door to the underground lab. “I’ve got a few time-sensitive samples, though, so . . .” She opened the door and paused in the doorway, looking back at her father. “If I’m right, Father, I should have the antidote ready in a day or two. I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything.” It didn’t sound like a question, but it was one.
Marcus nodded, just once, and his eyes remained on the doorway even after Neffe had shut the door.
“Marcus?”
“Tell me,” he said without looking at me.
I opened my mouth, then blew out a breath and shut it again. In several steps, I was standing before him, my fingertips touching the barely-there stubble on his defined jawline. I turned his face to me. “Promise to let me finish before you say or do anything.”
I felt his jaw tense. His eyes locked on mine, black-rimmed gold and blazing with intensity.
“Promise me.”
He gave me the same stiff, single nod he’d given his daughter, and I didn’t push him for more. In his present mood, doing so would be an exercise in futility.
I took hold of his hand, lacing my fingers through his. “Come here, sit down,” I said as I led him across the entryway toward the foot of the stairs. He had an annoying habit of staring out of windows when we argued, and I was determined not to try to reason with his backside this time. I sat, pulling him down with me, and set my shoulder bag on one of the stairs a few steps up.
“Remember when I said I didn’t sleep well last night?”
Again, Marcus gave that lone nod.
I sighed, searching his eyes. I hoped I’d made the right call by not alerting him earlier, but the danger had already passed. I told myself that several more times before continuing. The danger had already passed, hadn’t it? “Well, it all started with this dream I’ve been having . . .” And then I told him. Everything.
To Marcus’s credit, he kept his promise. He didn’t say a single thing while I spoke. Hell, he didn’t move beyond the steady rise and fall of his chest, the intermittent blink, or the slow tensing of his whole body.
As I neared the end of my recap, I reached into my bag and pulled out the box containing the pocket watch. “And here it is,” I said, handing it to Marcus. “The watch is harmless now, so feel free to examine it to your heart’s content.”
I watched his face, his eyes, his lips, his jaw as he opened the box and picked up the pocket watch, looking for some hint of his anger level. He turned the watch over several times, then he set it back in the depression that had been made for it, shut the lid, and placed the box on the stair above us.
“Are you finished?” he asked quietly and, with a slow blink, raised his gaze to meet mine.
Shit. His pupils were so dilated that only the thinnest rim of gold was visible around the black. And I knew from experience that only two emotions caused such a physiological reaction in him—extreme desire and absolute fury.
In a lithe movement, he stood and strode away from me. He took smooth, purposeful steps into the nearby sitting room and, true to form, planted himself before a window, his back to me.
“Marcus . . .” Using the staircase railing, I pulled myself up to my feet but couldn’t work up the nerve to follow him into the sitting room. “I’m alright. Nothing happened.”
Silence. No words. No movement. Just stillness. Just him, staring out the window.
“And before you start ordering me around, I’m putting my own damn self on house arrest, so you can save your breath.” Not that I was really worried about him saying anything at all right now. God, when he got like this, it was like talking to a statue.
The house’s main floor had high ceilings, but all the space in the world wouldn’t have been enough to alleviate the stifling tension mounting all around him.
“Marcus,” I said, my voice hardening. I took a single step toward him, then promptly developed a severe case of lead feet. I repeated his name, irritation lacing my voice.
Still no response.
“Damn it, Marcus.” My hands balled into fists, my nails digging into my palms despite their short length. “I’m fine, I’ve already agreed to stay put, so I’ll be perfectly safe while you and your people hunt down these Kin assholes.” I paused, hoping for some sort of a response. A simple sidelong glance would’ve been better than the cold shoulder he was giving me. “What else do you want me to say?”
“Nothing.” The single word ratcheted the tension up to suffocating levels.
Mounting frustration got the better of me, and I practically shouted, “Is it that I didn’t tell you right away? Is that why you’re mad at me?”
“I’m not,” he responded, his voice quieter than mine, but his words just as sharp. His shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep breath. “I’m not mad at you, Lex.” His enunciation was precise, impeccable, and each syllable set my nerves more on edge. “I want to tear apart those responsible for the incident today . . . I want to feel their bones snapping in my grip while my hands are coated in their blood.” He bowed his head, and his voice grew quieter. “But I’m not angry; I’m terrified. I want, more than anything, to lock you away in a cage of At keyed only to me so I know that nobody will ever be able to get to you. Nobody will ever be able to even attempt to hurt you again.”
I held my breath for a few seconds, waiting to see if he would say more, then exhaled and crossed into the sitting room to stand behind him. I slipped my hand into his and leaned against his back, pressing my forehead against his shoulder. “That would be no way to live.”
He was quiet for a long time. Seconds passed, maybe minutes, and we stood there, apart and together. We were always apart and together, it seemed.
Finally, he swallowed audibly and said, “But at least you would be alive.” At last, he turned his head to the side and stared down at me. “At least you would exist.”
Lifting my head from his shoulder, I searched his darkened eyes. There was a hint more gold now, but his pupils were still unusually large, not to mention uncommonly glassy. I’d never seen Marcus cry—hell, I wasn’t sure the ancient former god I’d bound myself to for the rest of eternity could cry anymore—but I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a tear break free at that moment.
“Oh, Marcus,” I said, my voice hushed. I rose up onto tiptoes and leaned my forehead against his. “Even if they try something like this again, it won’t work, because I know what that anti-At stuff feels like now. I could sense it all morning, I just didn’t know what it was I was sensing. You don’t have to worry about me being unmade or anything like that. You’re not going to lose me to this.”
Marcus closed his eyes. “But what of the thousands of others ways I could lose you?” His eyelids opened, his eyes blazing like twin golden suns. “Every day, I’m afraid.”
I smiled one of those weak, joyless smiles. “I think they call that living.”
“It hurts.”
“I know,” I said, my voice soft. And then I closed the distance between our lips and kissed him gently, then pulled away. “Now how about that bath?”
His lips curved upwards, and he kissed the corner of my mouth. “In a bit, Little Ivanov. We’ll call an emergency Council meeting first. These Kin have gone too far.”
I snorted a derisive laugh. “As the would-be victim of an un-making, I couldn’t agree more.”
“I know he’s disinterested in taking part in Council politics, but having Re there would be beneficial.” I heard Marcus’s unasked question loud and clear.
Sighing, I leaned my head on his shoulder once more. “I’ll ask him.”
“And he’ll say yes, because it’s you who is asking.”
There was a hint of jealousy in Marcus’s voice, just humming along the edges of his words. I could’ve called him on it. But honestly, it was nothing new and hardly worth the effort. I rested my chin on his shoulder and smirked. “I don’t know if you heard, but I’m kind of a big deal. I’ve got sway . . .”
Marcus turned around to face me, golden eyes burning. “Yes, Little Ivanov.” His arms slipped around me, fitting perfectly along the curve of my back, and he lowered his head, his mouth hovering over mine. “I’m quite aware.”
His lips touched mine, a gentle kiss. A plea, or maybe a question. A reassurance. As his lips parted mine, he slid the slightest tendril of his ba—his soul—into me to caress the edges of mine as only a truly bonded pair of Nejerets can do. And for a few, blissful moments, the Kin didn’t matter. Ma’at and the fate of the universe didn’t matter. Only this kiss, this moment mattered.
Shakily, I let out a breathy laugh against Marcus’s lips. “So . . . the meeting . . .”
Marcus made a displeased noise low in his throat. He kissed me one last time, then pulled back and nodded. “Let’s gather the others. This is war.”
This concludes Dissonance. Lex’s story continues in Ricochet Through Time.
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