The Shadow: The Original's Trilogy Page 24

  That he understood. “I knew her in a previous life, she didn’t want much from me then, either.” He shook his head. “So what, if I can’t find a way to get her to . . . .” He glanced at Harry and lowered his voice. “You know?”

  “Love you?”

  Jesus, the bastard spoke loud enough for all of Machon to hear. His face heated.

  “You will suffer. You will wish you were dead. I only know what I see and hear, daemon. But you, I’m not sure you are seeing what’s right in front of you.” The Watcher pulled something out of her pocket, and waved it with a flourish. His handkerchief. “Earlier, when she offered me her gift, this came out of her pocket and she hid it from you. It is yours, right?” Kasdeja ran the cloth under her nose. “Strange she carries your cloth and yet cares nothing for you.”

  He stared at the linen square. Warmth flooded him to his toes. “I don’t even know what the problem is.” He didn’t want to mention she was having trouble with her Magic. Kasdeja didn’t need to know about that.

  “Nor do I. I cannot see her unless she’s standing before me. Woo her.”

  “Fuck’s sake. You think I haven’t tried? One minute she’s sprawled over me naked and screaming my name and the next she’s telling me I have to stay away.” He paced away a few steps. “I think she’s worried she’ll hurt me, which . . . .” Completely emasculated him. “So tell me, oh, great mighty one, how should I be wooing her?”

  Trina’s face tipped side to side as Kasdeja studied him. “You’re angry with her. Hurt.”

  “Of course I’m—” He glanced at Harry, who watched everything with interest and lowered his voice. “’Course I am.” Why shouldn’t he be hurt? His mate, the one person made solely for him, rejected him. Didn’t trust him to take care of himself. How wasn’t that hurtful?

  “Have you tried to change her mind?”

  “Why, so she can shut me down again? I’ve been there and done that with one of her past lives. It ain’t happening again.”

  “Mm.” Kasdeja stared down Trina’s nose at him. “Remember Charlie.”

  He took a step back, sucking in a hard breath. His son?

  “Remember when he learned to walk? Wobbling his way around the house? You poured yourself some tea. Dark. No sugar. No milk. Steaming hot—the way you always liked.”

  Jesus.

  “You turned around with cup in hand, stumbled over his blanket and when you put your arms out to stop your fall, you spilled the tea.”

  “It was an accident.” He didn’t know why he said that, it didn’t matter if it was an accident, his chest still ached from the memory.

  Trina took a wobbly step closer. “Remember how loud he cried when the hot liquid hit his bare leg? How he screamed when his skin blistered. He hated you.”

  “No. Charlie never hated a soul. Not even his mother.”

  “Didn’t he? You hurt him. Surely he wanted nothing to do with you.” Trina’s head tipped to the side, farther than if she had done so herself. “Oh, wait, that’s right. You burned him. He cried. Then he crawled into your lap and you both shed a few tears while you hugged.”

  Again, he glanced at Harry. “There’s nothing worse than hurting your kid.” He stared at Trina, wishing he could fight the bastard inside her. “What’s your point?”

  “You like stories, vampire. Figure it out.”

  His cheek twitched.

  Harry leaned closer. “She hurt you because she told you to stay away and instead of trying to work things out, you’re pouting. You’re not like Charlie.”

  Duncan growled.

  Kasdeja nodded Trina’s head, like a rag doll with no stuffing in her neck. “You’re not forgiving her. You’re holding on to your hurt. You’re too proud to try and change her mind.”

  What did they want from him? “I’m here!”

  “Physically! I don’t understand thoughts. I can’t hear them. Or see them. I understand what I see. What you’re telling me. You haven’t fought, you’re taking the easy way out and walking away.”

  “For her!” She didn’t want him. Damn it. And he didn’t want her to suffer. He didn’t want to go through seeing her suffer. Of hating him. Hurting him. Of watching her turn into something ugly before disappearing altogether. He went through that with Gertie. With Satrina. He couldn’t stand to go through it again. “I couldn’t protect my last family and I can’t fail again. I’d rather let her go than live through all that again.”

  “Then you’ve already failed.”

  Trina started to slump to the floor and this time he caught her. She lay limp in his arms. “This is twice now I’ve had you unconscious in my arms. There’s not going to be a third, you hear me, you daft woman?”

  He held her close, tipping her head back. He touched her cheek, whispering nonsensical words of encouragement for her to come back. He smoothed the hair back with a shaking hand, drew his finger down her cheek. He could love her. Hell, he did love her. That’s why her rejection, her absolute lack of in faith in him, hurt so damn much.

  “Come on.” Harry wandered toward the edge of the room. “Sit down or she’ll have a kink in her neck.”

  Duncan carried her to the edge of the room and sat with his back to the wall. Harry joined him. George leapt down and took a sniff of Trina’s hair before curling up in the lad’s lap.

  He adjusted her until her head rested in the crook of his arm. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall, unable to look at her lifeless body any longer. There were no visions this time and it bothered him. Reminded him she wasn’t in there. Made him worry she wouldn’t find her way back.

  “Can I ask you something?” Harry asked.

  “What?”

  “What happened to him?”

  He opened his eyes. “Who?”

  “Charlie.” He checked his watch.

  Jesus, he didn’t want to talk about this. “He’s dead.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “I failed him and his mother. But mostly him.” He leaned his head back on the wall. “I couldn’t control . . . couldn’t make things right.” He looked down at Trina. “And now history’s repeating itself.”

  “Doesn’t have to.”

  No, it didn’t. What would happen if he quit burying what he felt? What would happen if he told her he wouldn’t allow her to blow him off? What if he tried a little longer? A little harder? Charlie had never given up. His little boy had woken with a smile on his face and love in his heart every day. No one could resist his charms. Not because he was needed. Not because he forced the issue. Just because he was who he was.

  Harry nodded to Trina. “She reminds me of Em.”

  Duncan combed his fingers through Trina’s hair. Harry had talked about Ember before; she had been his best friend before the Council had taken him. “Maybe you’ll see her again one day.”

  “Trina treats me like I’m normal.” He pressed his lips into a thin line. “No one else does but you.”

  They lapsed into silence. Behind Harry, the bugs were gathering. Building on themselves. Re-creating the dragon avatar.

  “Kasdeja is right, you know.” Harry jerked his chin toward Trina. “You shouldn’t let her walk away.”

  How the hell did all this make the lad feel? He was stuck in that body, but full grown. At Harry’s age, Duncan had been bouncing from bed to bed. He must want more. “Someday you’ll—”

  Harry cut him off. “Don’t. I couldn’t stand the company of a woman who found me attractive in this body. Not even Em. It’s twisted.”

  “I was gonna say, someday maybe we’ll find a way to change that. It’s not like you don’t have the time to wait.”

  Harry snorted. “Kind of farfetched, but I guess anything’s possible.”

  Now if Trina would come back, they could call it a night.

  *****

  Trina opened her eyes. Duncan leaned above her, his brows drawn down, and she had the urge to stroke her finger between them to ease away the worry lines.

  “You two gonn
a kiss?” Harry teased.

  She came to her senses with a start, scrambling out of Duncan’s lap. She glanced around as she adjusted her clothing. A shiver shook her.

  “This is gonna stop now, Duchess.” He glowered as he got to his feet.

  “What?” Why was he using her nickname again? What the hell had happened?

  “This.” He motioned to their surroundings. “I’m not having it anymore. What were you thinking? No more presenting dragons with gifts, no more fighting mesmerists behind me back, no more transformations or out-of-body experiences. And no more possession. No more.” He paced away a few steps and strode back. He stuck a finger in her face as he lectured and she had the distinct urge to bite it. “If anyone is going to possess your body, it’s damn well gonna be me. And I sure as hell don’t want you floating around the ceiling when it’s happening.”

  She glanced at Harry, who stared at Duncan with the same gape-mouthed expression she must be wearing. She’d never seen him get this worked up. He must have lost his mind or he wouldn’t have made such an asinine statement. Not in front of Harry. She should smack him. Instead, the warm and fuzzies wrapped right around her heart.

  And she couldn’t have him. Couldn’t risk his life. She turned on her heel and stalked off.

  “Are you all right?” His voice softened. “Kasdeja didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  She stopped, studying her dusty boots while she regained some semblance of rational thought. “I don’t remember.”

  The dragon waddled toward her and lowered its head.

  “What’s he look like?” Harry jerked his head toward the dragon.

  Augustina had said she’d be able to see the Watcher’s true form. “Kasdeja, I have yet to see a Watcher to know what I seek. Will you show yourself to me?”

  His great head bobbed once.

  Insects scurried away from both ends. The tail and muzzle began to dissolve. Her gaze trailed after the insects scurrying into cracks in the walls and the floor. As the last of the insects skittered away, he stood.

  She craned her neck in effort to take him all in. Not even Duncan reached the height of his knees. Although humanoid in form, Kasdeja was nothing more than bones and all of them appeared twisted and elongated. Burnt. Even his skull was stretched, giving him an alien-esque look, with large, slanted sockets and spindly teeth. The skeletal remains of wings jutted out behind him—remnants of his divine heritage. He must’ve been beautiful at one time.

  “Well?” Harry stared. “What does he look like?”

  “Regret.” A surge of compassion for Kasdeja overwhelmed her and she put her hand on the porous bone of his femur in a gesture of comfort.

  Kasdeja’s voice filled her mind, The jewelry you wear around your neck . . . remove it. It’s bastardizing your Magic.

  She shook her head. “It keeps it manageable. Helps me control it.”

  The Magic that made that was evil. It’s tainted.

  Rowena made it. After seeing the Magic she’d been performing in her Grimoire. Hope filled her. Maybe. Maybe it was the cause of her problems. Maybe things would get better if she just took it off. She unclasped the choker and tucked it into her backpack.

  Now that you are in Machon, where you were always meant to be, your Magic will heal. As will you. Go southeast to the Citadel. You will find allies there.

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 27

  Trina spell-traveled them to the base of the tower and they headed southeast. She went ahead with Harry and George, leaving Duncan to follow. He’d done two complete about-faces in less than twenty-four hours and she wasn’t sure what to think. She mocked, “Don’t be changing your mind now. . . .”

  “What?” Harry asked.

  “Muttering to myself. That’s all.” She took a furtive glance over her shoulder to gauge the distance between them and Duncan. Several yards back, he scanned the area as he walked.

  “What’s got you foaming at the mouth?”

  “Cavemen.”

  “Seriously? He’s ancient, but he’s not quite that old.”

  George swiped at her hair.

  “Sometimes he does things that irritate the hell out of me.” She nodded. This felt good, airing her grievances.

  “Oh? Like what?”

  “When he makes that weird sucky sound.”

  Harry kissed his teeth.

  “Yes.” She stopped walking. “Why do that?”

  “Don’t know.” Harry tugged her along.

  She glanced back to check on Duncan again and this time he caught her. He flashed her a grin and winked.

  She tripped over her own feet. He was flirting with her again?

  “Nice.” Harry drew out the word as he steadied her. “Very stealthy.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  “Why don’t you go talk to him?” His blue eyes bored into hers. “Sort out whatever’s eating you. The two of you’ve been acting like you’re in the middle of a divorce—half-clingy, half-pushy.”

  “No. It’s better this way. There’s no point in encouraging him.” The dirt crunched beneath her feet. Here, close to the tower and the lava fields, there were no plants. Nothing but cracked dirt as far as she could see.

  “Except you want to.”

  She whipped her face around to look at him. “What?”

  “Encourage him.”

  She snorted.

  He grinned, throwing his thumb over his shoulder. “Oh, so what was your little maneuver about?”

  “I’m making sure he didn’t sneak up on us while we’re talking.”

  He laughed. Even George made suspicious gurgling noises.

  She suspected the little creature was far more intelligent than a house cat. They lapsed into silence. They were walking uphill at a slow grade and tree tops had come into view over the rise ahead.

  “What do you want to know, Lopez?”

  “Huh?”

  “Seems like you’re wanting to ask me something about him.” He threw his head back to indicate Duncan.

  “Oh, well, I wondered how you ended up together,” she said. “I mean you don’t seem to like him much. You’re always cussing at him and giving him shit. Why stick around?”

  “I think if I looked my age, what you’re thinking of as arguing and disrespect might sound more like two guys ribbing each other.”

  “Ribbing? That’s why you’re always baiting him?”

  “No. I have chronic short-man complex.” He gave her a somber shake of the head. “I bait him to ease my inferiority issues.” He leaned into her. “I’m sure you’d be able to cure me in one night.”

  She glanced at him askance. “I’m trying to be serious.”

  He leaned close. “Seriousness leads to depression.”

  “Harry.”

  “Lopez,” he mimicked.

  She strode ahead, irritated with his diversionary tactics.

  “Wait up.” He jogged to her side, holding on to George’s thick tail. “D will have a melt-down if you’re walking alone.”

  “Answer my question.”

  He sighed. “I take perverse pleasure in annoying him. It’s a guy thing; you won’t understand.”

  “Is that what he’s doing when he calls you ‘pup’?”

  “Meh. We have kind of an odd relationship.” He rolled his eyes. “My dad, he used to call me ‘son.’ By the time I hit my preteens I hated it. Thought ‘son’ made me sound like a kid, you know. I’d complain and he’d call me son anyway. I’m sure if I was home and human and twenty-six, he’d still call me son and I’d still grumble.”

  “So, ‘pup’ is an endearment?”

  He shrugged.

  Damn. “I didn’t think you liked him.”

  “I didn’t when he first took me in.”

  She stopped. That’s not the story Duncan told her. “Took you?”

  “Rescued me.” George tried to sit on Harry’s head, and he grabbed the small creature, putting him back on his shoulder. “Duncan isn’t responsible for my
current predicament, but he made sure I survived and for a time, that seemed worse.”

  “What happened?” An uncomfortable silence followed. “Damn. I shouldn’t have asked, I—”

  “I went to England for vacation with my parents. During one of the tours . . . well, next thing I woke up chained to a bed with an aching head.”

  A bed? Inside, Trina blanched. She didn’t like the direction of this story.

  George curled itself around his neck, cooing in sympathy.

  “A vampire kidnapped me.” His voice cracked and he stopped speaking. His eyes held a haunted, hunted quality before he shook it off.

  Gods, he’d only been a kid.

  “The Vampiric Council found out and had a fit. Not out of concern for me, mind you, the bastards were worried about themselves and what the Watchers might do since I was transformed before maturity. They punished my captor and called in D to destroy me.”

  “Which he didn’t do.”

  “I hated him the first year.” Absently, he scratched George under the chin, returning the creature’s affection. “I tried to destroy him at every opportunity. I wasn’t strong enough to hurt him and he wouldn’t let me hurt myself. Every day he’d listen to me scream and yell, curse and throw things. He’d clean up the messes, talk me through the nightmares, and brought me blood.”

  “What changed your mind about him? About surviving?”

  He shook his head in bewilderment. “The son of a bitch wore me down.”

  She smiled.

  “I quit fighting. I mean, he never asked anything of me. He didn’t yell or beat me. Hell, I tried to make him lose his temper to prove he was up to no good. Then I didn’t know how to act or how to apologize. I caused him endless trouble and I wanted to make up for everything, but didn’t know how.”

  Again, he gave her a flummoxed expression. “He knew. D comes strolling in one night and unlocked the door to the cell. Told me not to run off because any daemon I came across would destroy me. Said if I planned on staying I needed to earn my keep.”

  “Doing what?”

  Harry grinned. “You sound as suspicious as I did. He wanted I.T. support.”

  “What?”