Once rejected twice shy, p.6
Once Rejected, Twice Shy, page 6
“Also, don’t change the subject.”
He grimaced. He’d been doing that a lot lately. Both grimacing and changing the subject. It was annoying, because he much preferred laughing and cracking jokes and being honest.
“I’ve protected her for forty years by keeping her entirely in the dark. And it’s worked.”
“Until now.”
He did not respond. One of the frat boys grew brave enough to approach the bar, asking for a round of beers and offering to buy Dru a drink.
She eyed him speculatively, then glanced over to scope out his friends while Mikail filled pint glasses. Once the drinks were resting on a tray, she said, “Maybe later. You all can handle me, right?”
“You all?” The guy nearly choked on his own saliva while his body temperature rose, his face reddening.
Dru smirked. “I’m a lot of woman. I’d break you if you tried all by yourself. But all four of you…” She shrugged.
“I-I-I—”
Dru waved dismissively. “Go talk it over with your friends. I’m busy at the moment.”
He was shaking so hard as he walked away that he spilled half the beers before he reached the table. Dru had her back to them, but Mikail had no doubt she was fully aware of the excited chatter as the guy told his friends about their conversation.
“You really going to do that?” Mikail asked idly. They didn’t normally discuss their personal lives—possibly because neither of them had one—but he had to admit, he was mildly curious.
She rolled her eyes. “Probably not. Those boys aren’t old enough to have the kind of experience under their belts that would keep me interested long enough to get off.”
Ah, this was why they didn’t discuss their personal lives. Because he really didn’t want to know.
“You need to release her magic, let her practice. She needs to prepare,” Dru said, the abrupt change of subject not at all jarring. She did it all the time.
He wanted to argue with her. Had for forty years. But the truth was, that breech on Friday had shaken him. He not only feared for Faith’s safety but also her mother’s. And his entire world’s. What if the attack was tied to the queen? What if she had been overthrown?
No. Someone would have made it over here to inform him that he needed to take Faith to claim her rightful place in their world.
Except…how many people knew of Faith’s existence?
“Have you noticed any other unusual activity?” he asked sharply.
Dru flipped a cocktail napkin. Over and over and over.
A tell.
“You have.”
She glanced up, narrowed her eyes. “Yes.”
“Shit.”
“You need to train her. You cannot waste any more time.”
Damn it, she was right.
Faith was asleep by the time he shut down the bar and climbed the stairs to his apartment. Once upon a time, he’d had a routine. If Faith hadn’t stopped by on that particular day, he’d have gone for a jog—right past her house. Just to check on her, even though, with little exception, the lights were off and the house was peaceful, each and every time.
When he returned to his apartment, he’d shower, wonder what was going on in his own world, and then he’d crawl into bed—alone—and, if the fates were generous, immediately fall asleep.
Usually, though, he’d lay there on his back, wide awake, staring at the ceiling, alternating thoughts and memories drifting through his head. Faith, growing up before his eyes. That moment when he realized he was attracted to her. Hating himself for feeling that way. Dismissing the idea because his job was to protect her, and besides, she was besotted with that fool of a human.
This was mixed with memories of his homeland. Despite the ever-present threat of war—his kind had been created deliberately to be guardians, protectors, Watchers—it had felt like simpler times. Maybe because his goals had always been clear, straightforward.
Train. Become the best Watcher there ever was. Train more. Occasionally kick back and flirt with one of the female Watchers. Never the fae they were trained to protect.
It was a rule older than anyone he knew, this separation of the two beings. It wasn’t that one was better than the other—in truth, they needed each other to survive. It was simply not done.
And now he’d done it—slept with the heir apparent, no less. “Go big or go home” was evidently his motto. No, that wasn’t right, since going home was the last thing he should consider after having sex with the queen’s only daughter. Ariana would have his hide. She’d flay him and make his pelt into a coat, and then she’d toss the coat into the mud and use it to step over puddles.
Definitely no going home for him.
Except…
He’d grilled Dru about this mysterious activity she’d seen, and she’d been just vague enough to make him worry. Whatever it was, she had a feeling more than anything concrete, and Mikail knew that a wolf’s feelings were more often than not even more of an indicator than seeing something with their eyes.
If they went home, as Dru suggested—no, demanded—Faith would be exposed. The moment she slipped through the veil, the cloak over her magic would be stripped away, and anyone with any sense at all—which was practically everyone—would know she had returned.
But if they stayed here, they were vulnerable as well. He wasn’t a fool; he knew he couldn’t keep her in his apartment forever. Except any time she spent outside the wards made it easier and easier for her enemies to trace her. Whoever was in this world searching for her would find her.
Back home, he knew who those enemies were. At least, he had forty years ago. And if they’d changed, well, Ariana would ensure he had a briefing immediately—even if she was furious at him for returning in the first place. He’d know exactly what he was dealing with in a matter of minutes.
If he returned home.
They couldn’t, not yet. Dru and Faith were both right; she couldn’t return without him debriefing her. And releasing her magic. And teaching her how to harness it, which would be the hardest part of all, since he had little more than a vague idea himself.
That led to a whole other problem. Typically, in their world, a faery and a wolf were paired together—not romantically, that was off-limits—as Warriors. The wolf had the strength, the faery had the magic; combined, they were a force to be reckoned with.
The pairings were deliberate. There was an entire council of leaders who analyzed each faery, every wolf, determining the best fits. Neither wolf nor fae had a choice in the matter. Once they were paired, they were partners for eternity.
Mikail had never been paired with a faery. He was a Watcher, the elite of the elite. He was a bodyguard, not a Warrior. His job was to watch over the royal family, ensure they were always safe. He didn’t go down to the front lines to do battle; he stayed in the castle, by his queen’s side. Until she’d commanded him to take her child away, to always stay by Faith’s side.
Dru had no experience being paired with a faery either. Which meant they were going in blind if he released Faith’s magic in this world so she could be prepared to go home.
“You’re thinking so hard, it’s making my head hurt.”
In an instant, he was out of his own head and back in his apartment, sitting on the too-short couch that had become his bed, a lowball glass in his hand, the ice in the whiskey all but melted, and he hadn’t even taken the first sip. Hell, he didn’t remember pouring the damn drink.
Faith padded across the wooden floorboards in bare feet. Her hair was flattened on one side, her eyes were sleepy. She wore a red camisole and a pair of shorts with crawfish drawn all over them.
She was utterly exquisite.
And he was a fool.
Tentatively, she lifted the glass from his hand and took a sip, wrinkling her nose before handing it back. “Never been much of a whiskey fan,” she said.
He placed the sweating glass on a coaster on the coffee table.
“Want to talk about it?” she asked as she perched on the arm of the couch.
“I do,” he surprised himself by saying, “but I—”
“Can’t. Right? Is that what you were about to say?”
He dragged his hand over his face. Picked up the glass and took a hefty swallow. “I was about to say I don’t know where to start.”
“Oh.” The sound was small, surprised, entirely feminine.
He’d never given the pairings much thought until now, but he figured the council had to work awfully damn hard to ensure whoever they paired together would not ever develop feelings for one another, despite the expectation that they would work together, fight together, probably spend more time together than with their own mates. Hell, he’d watched Faith grow from an infant to a woman, and even the awkward pre-teen years hadn’t been enough to stave off his attraction to the woman.
Clearly, Ariana knew what she was doing when she selected him to be a Watcher instead of a Warrior.
“How about when I was born?” Faith asked, and Mikail chuckled.
“That would be a very long story, and you know most of it anyway.”
“Okay, how about start at the reason we’re here instead of wherever we’re actually from.”
Ah, she was a shrewd one indeed.
“Faerell,” he murmured. The word sounded foreign on his tongue—that was how long it had been since he’d uttered it. “That is the name of our homeland.”
“Faerell.” She said it like she was tasting it. “And who lives in Faerell? No, wait, where is Faerell?”
Nothing like starting with the complicated questions. But then again, were there any easy ones in this conversation? “It is a parallel world. The only way to get there is through a veil. You must possess magic to even sense the veil.”
“So we aren’t aliens.”
He lifted one shoulder, let it drop. “If you look up the definition, I suppose it might fit.”
“I don’t want to think of myself as a little green person from another planet,” she said, then asked, “Is there only one veil?”
Another difficult question.
“There are theories…” The idea that there were other veils was an argument both fae and wolves had made throughout the centuries. “The current belief is, there is only the one.”
“Who believes that?”
“The queen.”
“My mother.”
He lurched forward, swiped the glass off the table, and took a hefty swallow. “Yes.”
“What do you believe?”
Interesting question. “I’ve never been asked my opinion before.”
She arched her brows. “Really? I get the impression you’re…I don’t know, in with the queen, I guess.”
He nodded, staring at the last bit of liquid in his glass. “I am. That is, I am her most trusted Watcher. But that does not make me her confidant.” It makes me the hired help.
“Well, I’m asking your opinion. What do you believe?”
There had been many conversations over the years—not this topic, of course—during which Mikail had wondered if Ariana’s decision to send her daughter to this world had molded Faith into something far different from herself. She did not think like a fae. She did not think like a magical being at all. It made sense, of course, given she’d not known that aspect of her person existed. But now, should Ariana ever die, Faith would step into her shoes, and they would be ill-fitted indeed.
“I do not know,” he answered honestly. “Our scientists have never understood why there was one at all. The two worlds have no connection to each other. Humans are entirely unaware of Faerell, and there is no reason for the occupants of Faerell to even be aware of this other world.
“But if there is one veil, why could there not be more? Our world is not so large, but this one is. It has always fascinated me that the single veil we are aware of is located in New Orleans, Louisiana, USA.”
“Doesn’t surprise me at all,” Faith said, sounding very matter of fact. “New Orleans feels magical. Like, real magic, not Disney magic. I mean, who knows why the veil ended up here in the first place, but it makes sense that the city built up around it.”
He lifted his glass in toast. “You amaze me, Faith. The way you are handling all of this. How suave you are. How intelligent. How…prepared.”
She snatched the glass before he could put it to his lips, and he watched as she tipped it up, swallowing the last bit. He stared at her throat, recalled what it had felt like to nibble his way up and down the column. How she’d shivered. How wanton she’d been—
“Another?” he asked, standing so abruptly, she surely noticed his awkwardness.
She rose to her feet, much more fluidly. “Sure.” If she noticed, she gave no indication.
“If I’m prepared, you can take that credit,” she said when they were in the kitchen and he was whipping up mojitos because that was Faith’s favorite beverage.
Turning, he handed her a lowball glass before resting his ass against the counter and sipping from his own, watching her over the rim. “I’ve known your mother a very long time. You are much like her and yet, your own person.”
She lifted her gaze, stared at the darkened window. He’d not turned on the lights; he didn’t need them, and the glare might have broken the mood. He knew it was right to give her this information, yet he still warred with himself. He’d been trained almost from birth to obey his queen at all costs, and she had commanded him to not tell Faith what she was.
“I have so many questions,” Faith said. “About my parents. My birth parents. But I love my parents, and I’m afraid I’ll…I don’t know. Taint my memories? Does that seem weird?”
“Not at all.”
“Okay, well, let’s skip over that part for now. Let’s go back to our world and us. I’m a princess, I guess?”
“Yes.”
“And you are…?”
“A wolf, as you’d surmised.”
“Are all shapeshifters wolves?”
“In our world? Yes.”
“Can you shift for me?”
He blinked rapidly, wholly unprepared for that particular question. He’d shifted plenty since moving to this world—he had to regularly to survive—but not in front of anyone, and most definitely not in front of her. Forty years ago, changing forms had been as normal as walking down the road. Now, it felt…oddly intimate.
“We won’t be able to speak while I am in my wolf form, so how about you exhaust your questions first?”
She barked out a laugh. “That’ll take days.”
Which they might not have. The sooner he released her magic, the sooner they could start to unravel this net he felt was binding them. Someone else had slipped through the veil. Someone who was not a friend of the crown. And they’d figured out where Faith lived, despite the wards Mikail had summoned by siphoning her magic. That did not mean her magic was not powerful; it only meant he would be inept at teaching her how to use it.
Whatever the queen’s wrath, they needed to return to their world. He was no longer confident he could protect Faith here, where he was without contact with anyone other than Dru, who was as clueless as him about the goings-on in their own world.
That was one positive: Dru would certainly be happy when he informed her.
“Why don’t we finish these drinks,” he suggested, “and then get some sleep.”
“Uh-oh, the old Mikail is back.”
He frowned. “What does that mean?”
“You’re about to tell me you can’t give me any more information, for my own protection.”
He felt his lips twitch before the chuckle escaped. And then he shook his head.
“On the contrary. When you wake up in the morning, we will begin your training.”
“Training?”
“We’re going to release your magic, Faith.”
Chapter Seven
He’d told her he was going to release her magic, magic she hadn’t known even existed a week ago, and he expected her to “get some rest?”
And then he’d seemed weary as he’d strode over to the couch and dropped onto it.
She’d wanted to tell him to take the bed. It was obvious that couch was too short for his frame, and, frankly, the bed was wasted on her tonight.
She’d lain here for hours, staring at the ceiling. Her imagination ran wild, initially. She read plenty of fantasy romance, after all, so she had lots of fodder to pull from. But none of it felt…right, and eventually, she gave up. She’d find out soon enough, wouldn’t she?
“I cannot sleep either.”
A high-pitched eep escaped before she slapped her hand over her mouth.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” The dark shadow near the door moved, and then Mikail stood next to the bed. Dawn hadn’t yet broken the horizon, and there was almost no light, so she couldn’t see his face, only his form.
“You didn’t,” she responded.
“Good. Perhaps this should be your first lesson. Always be aware of your surroundings.”
“Even when I’m supposed to be asleep?”
“You weren’t, so yes.”
He sounded so serious, she immediately sobered.
“I am not the one who should be teaching you how to harness your magic. I have very little direct experience with using it, beyond the small amount I have borrowed from you over the years—”
“You’ve borrowed my magic? That’s possible?”
“It is. It’s actually a very common concept in our world. Warriors are wolves and fae who have been paired together. The faery shares their magic, which makes the wolf infinitely stronger.”
“Oh, so that’s—”
“Not how it works between you and me. We are not paired. I am not a Warrior. I am a Watcher. It is a different concept. Watchers work alone. Warriors are always paired.”
“Then how are you able to use my magic?”
“Your mother granted me that permission in order to keep you safe. All I can really do is create wards and sense your presence. And once we return to our world, that power will be taken from me.”
He didn’t sound particularly happy to be returning to his homeland. In fact, he sounded regretful.
