Gray tidings, p.3
Gray Tidings, page 3
If he had viable proof of her existence, naturalists would have been swarming our yard like cockroaches.
“Then this sea monster might be his new holy grail.”
“A discovery like that would earn him a spot in the history books, which would appeal to his ego, but how could he have heard about it?”
“You’d think if he was going monster hunting, even with a telephoto lens, he wouldn’t want the girls anywhere near it.”
For that to be true, he would have to think about someone other than himself. Not really his style. Which made it believable he would invite the girls, even if we didn’t know why.
“Text me the address once you’re settled in.” I chewed my bottom lip. “I’ll sneak over and ward it.”
A magical barrier wouldn’t protect the girls’ hearts if Nolan ditched them again, but I would sleep better if they were as safe as I could make them.
“I’ll do that.” The muscles in his cheek twitched. “I’ll also try to find out why Nolan extended the invite.”
“Make sure that townhouse has three bedrooms.” I pointed a warning finger at him. “Minimum of two.”
Worst-case scenario, he could pack an inflatable mattress and crash in the living room.
“And the two in that one better be Camber and Arden.” He saluted me. “I have my marching orders.”
“I better get a move on too.” I checked the time on my phone. “Talk soon.”
He waved, I waved, Camber and Arden pretended not to see me leave…
All in all, it could have gone worse.
I don’t know how, but I preferred not to tempt fate by wondering.
Fairhope Farm, which Asa purchased for the centuria after my promotion, sprawled over twenty acres on the outskirts of Samford. There was a small farmhouse, but it leaned to one side as if tired of its years overseeing the tilling of fields and tending of cattle. However, the barn was in much better shape.
While the former owner’s kid had had no interest in the extensive renovations necessary to make his childhood home livable, the barn was useful as storage. That had earned it a patched roof and electricity, which would do for the daemons until we tapped into the house’s existing septic tank and plumbing to give them indoor bathrooms and running water.
“What do you think?” Wrench in hand, Clay wiped sweat from his brow. “This is the last one.”
“Nice.” I scanned the open area that had been swept down to the bare concrete floor. “Very nice.”
Portable AC units plugged the windows, humming and blowing cool air. Bunk beds lined the rear wall in a tidy row, and Clay leaned against the set he’d just finished assembling to toss back a bottle of cold water. I could see condensation on its exterior. Curious where he got it, I meandered toward the former tack room and found it had been outfitted with six fridges, four freezers, and two microwaves.
“I bought two more grills.” Clay appeared at my elbow. “That brings them up to four.”
“I saw the washers and dryers under tarps.” I angled toward him. “Who’s paying for all this?”
“That would be me.” He polished off his bottle and helped himself to a second. “No strings attached.”
“I can’t let you renovate this place into a chic barndominium and not pitch in.”
“If you want to get technical, these are Asa’s people.” He winked. “How about I bill him?”
“I want to help.” I cracked open a freezer to find it full of frozen slabs of beef. “I don’t have the funds you guys do, but I would like to contribute.”
If I had been eligible to inherit my parents’ estate, Dad would probably be sticking his hand out right about now.
“Okay.” He measured me. “You can cover the couches for the living room.” He held up his fingers. “Six.”
A wave of breathlessness swept through me as the cost of my generosity registered with painful clarity.
“You forget—” I wiped the smug look off his face, “—I have a little moth with a nose for sniffing out sales.”
Most of our furniture, clothes, and appliances were secondhand or discontinued items.
“I would say that’s cheating, but Shorty wants to help too.”
Heart swelling for the thoughtful little girl she was, I had to remind myself the reason she was so good at bargain shopping was her mercenary streak. It was wider than she was tall.
A metallic glint on his wrist caught my eye, and I suppressed a groan. “What’s that?”
“You mean this old thing?” He stuck out his arm. “It’s a smartwatch to make calling and texting easier.”
As much trouble as he had operating his jumbo phone, I had doubts a tiny watch was the solution, but it was shiny new tech. That alone justified the purchase in his mind.
Though, if he had told me in advance he wanted a smartwatch, I could have saved myself the hassle of charming his Rolex. Then again, maybe that was what had given him the idea to splurge.
“Where is everyone?” I peered around but turned up none of the daemons. “Patrol?”
“Asa and Moran are sparring.” He twiddled his thumbs in clear view. “Shirtless. Sweaty. On the hill.”
“I thought they were in a meeting.”
“Yeah.” He tilted his head. “They are.”
“A shirtless meeting?” I gave serious consideration to crushing the water bottle against his forehead. “It didn’t occur to you to tell me this sooner?”
“Oh, it did.” He tossed the plastic in a recycling bin I hadn’t noticed. “But you were on a self-guided tour, and I hated to interrupt a potential investor while she valuated the work we’ve already done.”
“One day,” I told him, “I’m going to set your wig on fire.” I flicked the end of his nose. “While you’re still wearing it.”
“Warn me in advance? I have a couple I wouldn’t mind sacrificing for the greater good.”
“Uh, no.” I wasn’t enabling his purchasing guilt-free replacements. “Then it wouldn’t be a punishment.”
Exiting the barn, I stood in the driveway until I heard a faint commotion that sounded promising.
The former cotton fields were barren, which made for easy walking, but it was a sad sight. I crouched and scooped up a handful of dirt. The top layer was dry as dust, but rich soil greeted me an inch or so deeper.
“This place has potential.” I stood and wiped my palms on my pants. “How do daemons feel about gardening?”
“Depends on the daemon, I imagine.” Clay caught up to me. “What are you thinking?”
“I could use a local supplier for the herbs and flowers in the shop’s most popular blends.” I let the idea percolate. “I might rent an acre on the edge of the property, hire some daemons to tend it. It could give the centuria some disposable income.” I wasn’t sure they would stick around after their duties had been fulfilled, but it would be a better use of their time than returning to the monotony of their prior existence. “It’s an idea.”
“I seriously doubt Ace would accept rent from you.” He let his focus drift across the neglected field. “It’s good thinking, though. Gardening is therapeutic. Plus, they could grow some of their own food, which would help, given the volume the males put away daily.”
Asa would never complain about the grocery bill, not when the centuria was under his protection, but pitching in would give the daemons a sense of pride and accomplishment as well.
“They used to raise cattle here too, but livestock are a lot of work.”
And a whole lot of money was required in start-up costs for fencing, feed, and hay, as there was no grass. Not to mention the animals themselves. Plus shelter. Plus vet care. Plus sweat equity.
“Cowboy daemons.” Clay slapped his knee. “Yee-haw.”
“Hold on, partner.” I reined him in before he got too carried away. “Don’t start buying Stetsons yet.”
“I would be willing to sponsor your idea with two teeny-tiny little caveats.”
“You can’t have a pony, so if that’s what you’re wanting, the answer is no.”
Horses can carry up to twenty percent of their body weight. For a four-hundred-pound golem, we would need to locate a two-thousand-pound animal. Bare minimum. Think Belgian draft horse.
“I own a horse farm in Kentucky.” He flicked my nose as payback. “I already have all the ponies.”
Mouth falling open, I struggled to find my voice. “How did I not know this?”
“You vanished for ten years.” His brows slanted downward. “You don’t get to tell me how to cope.”
“You bought it off eBay, didn’t you?”
“Online shopping counts as therapy.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Ask anyone.”
“Okay, okay.” I lifted my hands, palms out. “What are your conditions?”
“You attend barbecue school with me.” He held up one finger. “Myron Mixon has a school in Unadilla, Georgia. He’s that guy on BBQ Pitmasters. Catch the reruns, pleb, so you don’t embarrass me when we get there.” He lifted another. “And we establish an annual cook-off judged by Samfordians.”
“The mayor would love that.” I caught on to his annoyance. “No, really.” I laughed. “I mean it.”
“You hate Mayor Tate.”
“No,” I corrected him. “Mayor Tate hates me.”
From the moment I stumbled into town, she had made it plain she wanted me to keep right on going.
A ruckus ahead urged me into a brisk walk, and I crested a small hill to find Asa shirtless, as promised, on his back. Moran, in a leather sports bra, stood over him with a blade aimed at his heart.
The cheering faded to a dull whine that muted the world as I broke into a sprint.
The phantom taste of copper filled my mouth, and my jaw clenched until my teeth ached.
I flung myself at Moran, knocking her off him, and landed astride her. Fingernails sharp and deadly, I swiped at her face, her fierce grip on my wrist the only thing that saved her left eye. Her grin was wide as she grappled with me, and she laughed as she punched me in the gut.
Air whooshed from my lungs, but I could still taste blood in my mouth, and I couldn’t stop.
Swinging my free arm, I clocked her in the jaw then clamped a hand around her throat.
“Rue.”
Crimson rivulets spilled down the sides of her neck, and my tongue dried to sandpaper. The urge to bend down, lick her skin clean, then finish what I started beat in my chest as loud as her heart.
Bah-bump. Bah-bump. Bah-bump.
Exhilaration tasted much the same as fear, adrenaline sweetening the flavor.
“Rue.” A gentle hand landed on my shoulder as Asa’s voice drifted to me. “You have to let her up now.”
Had he spoken in Mandarin, he would have made more sense to the fraying edges of my control.
“She would have tapped out by now,” Clay drawled, “if you weren’t trying so hard to kill her.”
Kill her?
Kill her?
“Goddess.” I hung my head. “I’m sorry, Moran.” Breathed in. Breathed out. “I was totally out of line.”
Once I got my head screwed on straight, Asa backed away slowly to avoid provoking me again.
“You have nothing to apologize for.” She grinned up at me through pink teeth. “Your bond is strong.”
“That doesn’t mean you should let me off the hook easy.” I offered her a hand up she accepted without hesitation. “I had no right to turn your match into a melee.” I kept my grip. “I mean it, Moran. I’m sorry.”
“You have impressive reflexes.” She ignored my second attempt to make amends. “Who taught you?”
“That would be me.” Clay preened as Moran sized him up with a frown. “Rue was my best pupil.”
“Then I shudder to think what condition your other pupils might be in.”
“You just praised her reflexes,” he spluttered. “Rue is talented.”
“A talented witch? Yes. A talented fighter? No.” Her neutral tone reminded me of one of my former tutors, and I cringed from her assessment. “Her tactical thinking is poor, and her form is barely recognizable.”
“Gee.” Warmth spread through my cheeks as I shook the talons from my fingertips. “Thanks?”
“You’re a creature of instinct.” Moran glowed with approval. “I respect that.”
As much as I wanted to blame fascination for my hair trigger, I was raised to never make excuses.
To show I valued her opinion, I pressed for her to continue. “But?”
“You could be so much more lethal with proper instruction.”
“I do enjoy being lethal.” I was only half kidding. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll let you kick my butt into shape.”
“This is what I mean.” She cocked her head to one side. “Kicking a butt serves no purpose.”
Biting the inside of my cheek to avoid laughing, I offered a solemn nod instead. “I have much to learn.”
“Maybe I’ll join you for those classes.” Clay cracked his neck. “I could use a remedial workout.”
“As you wish, golem.” Challenge rang through her words. “Name the time and place.”
“Anytime, anyplace.” He hesitated. “Except not right here or right now. I’m on my way out of town.”
“Good comeback.” I patted him on the shoulder. “You really brought your A game.”
“It’s okay to be impressed with me.” Clay smoothed his hair back. “Most people are.”
“Clearly,” Moran drawled, “you’re impressed with yourself enough for us all.”
“Burn.” I laughed at his puckered expression. “She got you there.”
Whatever was said next, I missed as I watched Asa shrugging on his shirt, his fingers deftly fastening the buttons. He caught me ogling him and held my stare while tucking in his shirt with exaggerated motions.
I wished it was my hand shoved down his pants.
“Rue.” Clay clamped his hands on Moran’s ears. “Keep your dirty thoughts to yourself.”
A flash of her palm shot his head back, and he stumbled a few steps before regaining his balance.
“Looks like she wants you to keep your hands to yourself.” I smothered a laugh. “Nice move, Moran.”
Laughter bright in her eyes, she acknowledged the compliment with a straight face.
Smart enough to know when he was beaten, Clay switched topics to give his bruised ego time to heal.
“I finished the bunks.” He tested his tender nose. “The mattresses and sheets will be delivered soon.”
Differences set aside, for the moment, she clasped her hands in front of her. “Thank you.”
“You have my number.” He bobbed a shoulder. “Call if you need anything else.”
“I thought that was Aedan’s job.” I arched an eyebrow at them. “He’s the liaison, right?”
“Yes.” Moran dropped her gaze, her lips curling. “Of course.”
Clay, who also found the ground interesting, scrubbed the back of his neck with his palm.
Me?
I found the two of them, and their shy glances, far more interesting than dirt.
“We’ll work on a training schedule when I get back.” I twisted my lips. “Again, really sorry about earlier.”
“Now that we’ve all kissed and made up,” Clay said, checking the time, “we should go.”
“Will you be joining her?” Moran cocked an eyebrow. At Clay. “Or are you all talk?”
“I don’t know.” He pretended to consider her. “If my form is that bad, I might be beyond hope.”
“There’s always hope,” she said softly. “Failing that, I have a large stick and excellent aim.”
“Tempting,” he rumbled. “Very tempting.”
Hooking my arm through his, I dragged him away from Moran and steered him out of earshot.
“You got a wee bit excited back there when she mentioned the size of her stick.”
A blush crept up his throat into his cheeks. “I hate you.”
“What do you get when you cross a golem with a daemon? A daelem? A golmon?”
“Not funny.” He pried my fingers off him. “The last thing I need right now is a relationship.”
“Oooh.” I clutched my hands to my chest. “Relationship sounds serious.”
“I assembled bunk beds for the woman,” he protested. Loudly. “I didn’t braid her a hair bracelet.”
With that, he stomped off toward the SUV, leaving me to savor a taste of sweet, sweet payback.
“Are they interested in one another?” Asa watched him storm away. “Or are you torturing him for fun?”
“There was blushing, some innuendo.” I pinched two fingers together. “So, mostly torture for fun.” A soft chuckle that warmed me to my bones was his response. “I ought to apologize to you too, for how I behaved earlier, but I’m sure you’re tired of hearing how sorry I am by now.”
“I’m daemon enough that I will never grow tired of your swift and vicious jealousy.”
“Thanks?” I slid my arm around his waist and leaned my head against his shoulder. “I swear I’m not always so murderous.” I heard myself and backtracked fast. “Okay, well, I am pretty murderous even under the best circumstances, but—”
“I don’t mind.” He slowed, turning so he faced me. “No one has ever coveted me.” He cupped my cheek. “I enjoy it.” His lips hitched to one side. “You’re beautiful in your fury.”
“Pretty sure I look unhinged, but to each his own.” I kissed his palm. “How was the meeting?”
“Productive.” He raked his fingers through my hair, the ends curling around his hand as he used his grip to drag my mouth to his. “The centuria are settling in. They’re happier than I can remember them being in a long time.”
“They have a purpose.” I shivered as his lips moved down my throat. “They’re also somewhere new. A change in scenery can do wonders for morale.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“We need to go.” I didn’t budge an inch. I might have even tilted my chin, exposing more of my skin. “We can make out when we get home.”
“Or we could make out here.”
“I like the way you think.” I jolted when I noticed a lone figure over his shoulder. “Aedan?”
When he reached us, he spoke four little words everyone dreaded hearing. “We need to talk.”
