Dark Desire (6 page)

His eyebrow arched again. “With the Valkyries?” She nodded. “How interesting,” he said, studying her carefully.

Not enjoying being scrutinized so closely, Taer glanced at the gold face of his expensive watch, seeing that it was close to dawn. She stood up, Aubrey’s eyes following her movements. “Where are you going?” he asked congenially.

“I’m leaving.”

She didn’t wait to hear what else the light elf had to say. She wasn’t even sure she should have told him as much as she had, but desperation can drive people to do rash and stupid things.

Taer faded back to the club just as the sun was rising. Slipping inside the back door after punching in the code to the new security system, she rode the elevator back up to the apartment. It was still quiet as she closed the apartment door behind her, but as she stepped into her room, she could hear Korvain stirring.

Changing into her pajamas, Taer crawled into bed, being careful not to wake Eir. A few moments later, Korvain rapped on the door softly and stuck his head in. She could feel his gaze on her, checking to see that she was all right. The seconds passed, but just as he was about to leave, Taer spoke.

“I’m awake.”

He paused. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Like a baby,” she lied. Taer threw the covers back and slid off the mattress. “When can we start training?”

Korvain frowned at her, but before he could protest, she cut him off.

“Look, I slept all through the night and I ate dinner last night. I’ve done everything you’ve asked.”

Korvain glowered at her but agreed, saying, “Get changed and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Mason had been lying in bed, staring at the brushstrokes on the ceiling for at least the last four hours. He’d woken from the same dream that always assaulted him, but Sophie had been there for him—just like she always was when he needed her—bringing him down, forcing his racing heart to settle.

The weight of his dog’s head against his belly was welcome, the heat of her body beside his own grounding him, reminding him that he wasn’t in that building anymore. Lifting his hand, Mason laid it on top of her large head, right between her ears, and stroked her soft fur.

She groaned lightly in her sleep, and Mason envied how quickly she could fall asleep. He would probably be lying there for another four hours, thinking about what had happened.

The screams reverberated through his skull each time he tried to close his eyes, reminding him that he had made it out, but others hadn’t. With a sigh, Mason sat up, disturbing Sophie as he did. She blinked up at him with soulful, caramel-colored eyes and slid from the bed.

He’d been given Sophie after arriving back from Iraq. The marine shrink had said that his panic attacks wouldn’t be so bad if he had someone there to talk to. Mason just had no fucking idea it would be a female German shepherd who would become his life-preserver in the sea of guilt he’d been treading in for just over ten years.

Mason had only been a kid when he’d signed up for the marines. Now, at the ripe old age of thirty-one, he felt—and looked—much older than he should have. The war had taken its toll on him—had taken more from him than it should have—and also left him with a fucked-up ability to read the minds of the gods—not that he’d known that at the time.

After two long years of suffering, he was ready to give it all up … that was until he just happened to be walking past the Eye one day eight years ago. Bryn and Mav had been watching him from the doorway. As he’d passed, Bryn had told him to get his ass inside and park it at the bar.

He’d known then that she was different. He could hear her thoughts—her thoughts about him. She could tell that he was close to eating a bullet; in fact, that was exactly what he’d been about to do. He’d had a Beretta M9 tucked into the waistband of his jeans. Loaded. Ready to turn the back of his skull into mush.

“What’s your name?” she’d asked, sitting back and crossing her arms over her chest. Mav stood at her side, her model-perfect face wearing a stony expression. All Mason was picking up from her was hostility.

“Mason,” he’d replied, looking around the interior of the bar. He remembered being impressed with the layout and set-up.

Bryn’s eyes slid to the side, looking at Mav. An unspoken conversation passed between the Valkyries before Bryn turned back to him. “Planning on doing something fucking stupid in the next ten minutes, Mason?”

One of his brows rose, but he said nothing. He didn’t owe them a damn thing. In fact, he remembered being pretty pissed that Bryn had interrupted his plans. He’d been staring hard at the bar, looking everywhere but at Bryn and Mav, when Bryn had cleared her throat.

“We need a head of security here at the Eye. I want that to be you.”

“Me? Why? You don’t even know me.” Pity and fear had churned in Bryn’s head as she stared at him, imploring him to just say “yes” to her offer.

“You need a job, right?”

Mason’s spine had stiffened. How had she known? He’d been fired from his job the day before for turning up late. But he couldn’t help it. His nightmares had kept him awake, and he could only really sleep when the sun was up. So that was what he did.

“Then you have one here. If you want it.”

He’d looked between the two goddesses for a moment, finally saying, “I want it.”

There’d been a smile in Bryn’s voice when she’d said, “Good. You start in ten minutes.”

Mason had worked that evening, and kept returning to work ever since.

Bryn had saved him.

With a sigh, he got out of bed, Sophie padding silently beside him on the carpet. After washing his face, Mason changed into a pair of sweats, pulled his marines tee over his head and slid his arms into a jacket before tying up his shoes. A bit of fresh air was just what he needed.

“Come on, Soph,” he called gently, grabbing her leash from the hook beside the door and clipping it to her collar. Stepping out of his apartment building, Mason turned towards Boston Common—a place he and Sophie usually went every morning to shake off the nightmares. Sophie was a lot more attentive than normal, sticking close to his side rather than pulling forward eagerly. He let his hand burrow deeply into the fur at the ruff of her neck, feeling the warmth of her body settle him.

The sun had barely begun to rise when he made it to the fifty-acre gardens, a slight fog hanging about a foot off the ground. There was hardly another soul in sight, and Mason didn’t bother to check either. He liked the silence in his head.

Making his way towards the Frog Pond, he let the icy breeze blow away the terrors still clinging on stubbornly like leeches bleeding his mind. Stopping, he crouched down to tie up his shoelace when Sophie suddenly started pulling frantically at the lead. Mason tried to peer through the fog to see what had her so riled up, but could barely see more than twenty feet in front of him.

“Sophie. Sit,” he commanded sternly, returning his attention to his laces. The next thing he knew, he was on his ass, holding onto a leash minus the dog. Jumping up, Mason tried to see where she’d run off to. It was so unlike her to disobey a command from him.

Panic lanced through him, but this time it had nothing to do with his nightmares. If Sophie ran onto the road, no car would be able to see her with the fog cover until it was too late.

With a curse, he started jogging, opening himself up to people’s thoughts. Boston seemed to be a big fucking beacon for the creatures of the Nine Worlds, so he was always having to block out the white noise. Per capita, there were more gods and goddesses living there than any other major city in America.

He’d just come up to the Sailors and Soldiers Monument when he heard the thoughts.

I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you, Kristy…Oh! What was that?

Spinning to his left, he started forward again, blindly following the words.

I wonder where you came from … your owner must be around here somewhere.

Damn, he wished this fog would lift.

And then, as if his wish had been granted, the sun burst out, burning the fog away faster than he’d ever seen before. It was so bright that Mason had to shield his eyes for a moment, and when he could see again, he found Sophie sitting at the feet of a gorgeous blonde woman.

Eir had had her face buried in her hands, trying to contain her tears, when the wet swipe of a tongue made her jerk her head up in surprise. A dog was standing in front of her, its warm brown eyes looking concerned for her.

“Hello,” she whispered, straightening. The dog was quite large with black around its muzzle, on its ears and over its eyes. Its ears were pointed up, alert and ready. The rest of its body was a caramel color of varying shades, except for its black back.

Reaching an unsure hand out, Eir added, “What’s your name, handsome?”

The dog sniffed her outstretched hand, its long, pink tongue darting out to lick her. Surprised, Eir gasped, then laughed out loud. The dog’s tail began to wag then, and it bestowed another long swipe of its wet tongue onto Eir’s face this time.

“Fuck, Sophie! No!”

Eir’s eyes shot to the side just as the fog disappeared. A man stood there, and Eir’s stomach did a little flip-flopping motion at the sight of him.

“I’m so sorry,” the man said, looping what looked like a broken leash through the metal hoop on the dog’s collar. “She doesn’t normally just run off like that,” he added, glaring down at the dog.

“She?” Eir squeaked.

The man looked at her again, and Eir’s stomach flip-flopped doubly hard.

His gaze was fixated on her for a moment before he shook his head as if to clear it. “Yeah. She.” He looked at the dog again, whose tongue was lolling out of the side of her mouth. Eir giggled at the sight of the dog’s angry owner and the seemingly unperturbed canine.

A smile broke out on the man’s face at the sound of her laughter, abruptly stopping her.

“No, don’t stop,” he said. “You have a beautiful laugh.”

Eir sighed. “I don’t have anything to laugh at right now, I’m afraid,” she admitted, dropping her eyes from the intensity of his hazel gaze.

“Do you mind if …”

Eir saw he was gesturing toward the seat beside her. “Please,” she replied, acknowledging his request.

She watched as he made himself comfortable. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants, sneakers and a comfortable-looking jacket with a hood.

“I’m Mason,” he said, “and that is Sophie,” he added, gesturing at the dog, who was yet to move from Eir’s feet.

“Sophie? She’s beautiful. What kind of dog is she?”

Mason smiled, his eyes crinkling a little in the corners. “A German shepherd. A highly intelligent, loyal and mostly well-behaved dog. She’s been with me for over nine years now.” He rubbed her head affectionately.

“Mostly well-behaved?” Eir inquired.

“Mostly, but not always, because she disobeyed my order for her to stay when she came running over here to you.”

“Oh!” Eir gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Mason replied. “Sophie obviously knew something was wrong, so she came over to help.”

“What do you mean?” Eir replied, her voice soft, her eyes lowered.

Mason paused. “Sophie’s a therapy dog. She helps me with … some ongoing issues I’ve been having.”

Eir had heard of pets as therapy animals before, but didn’t want to push Mason for any more details. He didn’t look like he wanted to talk about his problems.

“I see,” she said cautiously, still staring at Sophie. The dog crept forward a little and rested her head on Eir’s lap. Eir lifted her hand, but hesitated, turning to look at Mason for permission.

Eir rested her hand gently on top of Sophie’s head, right between her ears.

“You have a beautiful smile,” Mason murmured, jolting Eir; the smile she had been unconsciously wearing melted away. “What’s your name?” he asked when she had the nerve to look up at him again.

“Eir,” she practically whispered. She wasn’t sure what it was about this man, but she found herself drawn to him … perhaps it was just because of his beautiful dog and his overwhelming sadness.

“It’s nice to meet you, Eir,” he said, offering her his hand. As she took it in her own, Mason’s eyes suddenly widened, and Eir felt a familiar warmth against her palm.

She slid out of his grasp and stood up, nervously smoothing non-existent wrinkles from her coat and pulling its collar closer around her neck. Sophie walked back two paces and sat down again, staring at her. It was uncanny how in tune the dog was with Eir’s feelings, but she shouldn’t have been surprised. Animals were very receptive to strong emotions and hers were all over the place—so all over the place that she had inadvertently begun taking away some of the pain Mason had been feeling, out of habit, without conscious thought.

Mason was flexing his hand into a fist over and over again. “What just happened?” he asked, staring at her in awe.

“I …”
Oh, no.
“I have to go. I’m sorry.” Eir threw the words at him over her shoulder as she rushed away. She had to get out of there. Fresh tears began leaking from her eyes and she wiped them away.

“Hey! Eir! Wait, please,” Mason called out after her.

She didn’t know what it was about him—the tone of his voice or the compassion she could sense in him—but she stopped, her chest heaving up and down. He touched her shoulder as he reached her, and Eir found herself relaxing against his hand.

“I’m sorry if I upset you,” he said apologetically. “Let me make it up to you.”

As she turned around, Mason’s hand fell from her shoulder.

“Make it up to me, how?”

His eyes left her face, suddenly shy. “How about breakfast?” he asked.

Eir’s traitorous stomach decided to growl at that point, effectively answering for her. She wrapped her arms around her torso in a vain attempt to cover the sound, but Mason grinned.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then?”

Eir’s stomach fluttered for a whole different reason then. “Okay,” she replied, allowing Mason to lead them out of the park towards one of the many cafes that ran along Tremont Street. He was heading towards one of her favorites called the Thinking Cup.

“Just hold up for a minute,” Mason said a few feet from the door. He’d stopped behind her, pulling a piece of material from his pocket. After getting Sophie to sit down, Mason fitted a black and red ‘Service Dog’ coat over her back and secured the buckles.

“All set,” he said a moment later, gripping Sophie’s leash in his hand loosely. “Are you ready?”

Eir nodded and began towards the front door, but before she could pull it open, Mason swept in and did it for her.

“Thank you,” she said in a small voice, watching Mason’s lips turn up in a small, appreciative smile as she walked past him and into the cafe. They found a table near the back and looked over the menu before deciding.

“So, Eir, what’ll it be?”

“I think I’ll get a chocolate croissant and a hazelnut latte.” Eir closed the menu and looked at Mason. “What about you?”

“Actually, that sounds pretty damn good,” he said. “I’ll get the same. Be back in a minute.” Then to Sophie, he said, “Stay.”

Eir watched him move towards the counter to order their breakfast while Sophie watched her with soulful brown eyes. Eir looked down at the dog. “What?”

Tilting her head to the side, Sophie looked at her a moment longer before settling down onto the ground at her feet.

Mason returned then, sliding into his chair and shaking his head. “She’s sure taken a liking to you,” he said.

“I can’t imagine why,” Eir replied.

“I can.” Mason’s words were barely audible and she chose to ignore them.

“So, Eir, what do you do for work?”

“I, umm, I work at Mass Gen. I’m a nurse.”