Elijah (28 page)

Gideon knew Legna understood the matter far better than anyone could. As a Mind Demon, Legna had an amazing grasp of psychology that had grown exponentially since they had mated, sharing their power with each other.

“Tell your mate to mind her own business,” the Queen remarked dryly. “I feel her presence buzzing around you, Gideon.”

Siena had telepathy with other animals, including Lycanthropes in their animal forms, but she was not reading Gideon’s mind. She did, however, sense Legna’s presence in his mind and had something of a sixth sense that allowed her to have a vague idea of what their thoughts and discussions were tending toward. It was rather like the ability of predator to sense the next move a prey would make.

“She tells me to inform you that your well-being is very much her business,” Gideon relayed.

“And she reminds you that we are your friends, not your enemies.”

“Everyone is my enemy,” the Queen said bitterly, her pacing finally slowing as the weight of her saddening emotions weighed on her. “Or they soon will be. What will happen to our peace now, old friend?”

Siena felt the telltale pop in the air that heralded Legna’s teleport. She had expected it, just as she expected the comforting hands Gideon’s mate laid on her shoulders. Siena finally stopped moving, turning to look up into Legna’s bright, sterling eyes, perfectly identical to her husband’s.

“You must not mind Gideon. You know he is far too direct for good,” Legna said soothingly, tossing a wink to her mate out of Siena’s sight.

Gideon felt a swell of pride in his chest as he watched his lovely mate work her own brand of magic. He should have known to bring her with him from the start. The Ancient male was still
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learning to be part of a duo and sometimes made these errors, but it was to be expected after living a mostly solitary existence for over a thousand years. Some habits would take far longer than six months to break.

“I understand your feelings in this moment, Siena,” Legna said earnestly. “Can I help you to imagine how I felt when I realized I was going to be saddled with this old man for the rest of my life?” Siena couldn’t help but smile as she looked over at Legna’s handsome “old man.”

“Despite what he says, I was not as accepting as he would like to think, and I can also assure you I was quite disturbed over the prospect of telling Noah. But we believe in Destiny and fate, as you know, and it is clear this is destined. It must be even to you.”

“That does not make this any easier,” Siena argued.

“No. I know that. But hear Gideon out. He may be able to help you.”

“I already have heard all of your arguments.”

“I do not offer an argument, but a solution.” Gideon took a hand of each female and led them to a bench in an alcove where they both sat obediently. Legna instantly picked up the Queen’s hand, pressing it between hers in silent support.

“You know you must give yourself and your people time to adjust to this. You have told me that they will not accept a Demon as their King, correct?”

“Yes. I am positive of this.”

“Then do not make him King, Siena.”

“But you said I cannot resist this Imprinting…”

“I said do not make him King. You have no choice but to take him as mate, and you do know that, in your heart and your soul, you want and need Elijah close to you.” Gideon lowered himself into a crouch, resting a hand on the Queen’s knee as he looked up into her perplexed eyes. “Do you recall the day I asked you to tell me about the history of your monarchy? The traditions and how they have grown and changed over the centuries?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “You kept me occupied with the discussion for over twenty hours. I have never enjoyed a discourse more.”

“Then think, for a moment, about those traditions. Did you not tell me that before you allowed males equal measure in your society, there was no such thing as a King? That it had changed by example about nine hundred years ago when…”

“…when Queen Colein elevated her Consort to equal level,” she supplied when he searched for the names of the people involved.

“Yes. Alexzander. The first King in your history.”

“I do not understand your point.”

“Siena.” Legna spoke up, her voice soft and urgent. “Elijah does not want to be your equal in your monarchy, only in your heart and soul and body. He is content with his life and his duties to Noah. Do you not understand this?”

“You see him as a threat to your throne. So I offer the solution of removing the threat until such time as you decide otherwise,” Gideon urged her. “Make him your Consort, Siena, not your King. If one day you choose to elevate him as your political equal, then it will be your choice to do so and no one else’s. There is no Lycanthrope law that demands you make him your equal in the throne, only that you make him your mate. Invoke an old tradition, keep your power over your people, and stop punishing Elijah and yourself with these fears of yours.”

“Do you know what you are asking?” Siena asked hoarsely, her head spinning as hope and relief tried to overwhelm her. “You are asking me to publicly treat him in a way…in a way no man of his ego could tolerate.”

“We are asking you to do what you have always done. To do the best thing for your people.

That comes as natural to you as breathing, Siena.”

“You do not know Elijah so well as you think,” Legna added. “For you, I believe he would make any sacrifice. He does not need to impress your court. Only you. His position to Noah is more than enough for him. And I will tell you this, even if it did bruise his ego, Elijah would still
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take you to his heart under any conditions.”

“But…”

“Siena,” Gideon said with a sigh, “nothing is gained without venturing to risk.”

Elijah woke the next night with a start.

He sat up in bed suddenly, making his body protest the quick movement. He caught his breath, reaching to rub at the sore muscles of his shoulders. He had pushed himself and his troops to the utter limits the night before, hoping on some level that total exhaustion would do them all some good, considering the coming of Samhain.

Elijah didn’t know exactly what it was he had expected, but at the moment he felt fairly normal.

Well, as normal as he had felt for the past few days. Which basically meant he was dragging his feet, feeling indescribably blue, and was pretty much completely pissed off at a certain Lycanthrope female.

He had slept at Noah’s, also with the hope that remaining close to the King would somehow provide a buffer for this overriding impulse to attack Siena that he was supposed to be feeling.

But now, waking to feel nothing out of the ordinary in his thoughts and desires, he was ridiculously relieved.

He pushed back the bedding and walked over to the closet. He made a point of selecting his most comfortable pair of worn jeans and a rather ordinary basic white button-down shirt. It was what he considered workday clothing. Nothing special, not even the silk, a holdover from the time he had been raised in, he often favored in shirt material. He was not about to do anything he could misconstrue on any level as preparing to see or seduce a woman.

He rolled the cuffs halfway up his forearms and actually smiled at his casual reflection in the mirror. The warrior did take a moment to run his hands through his hair, still not quite used to the change in color. He had been fairly tow-headed most of his life. It was still strange to see the strands of gold filament in place of that.

He wondered if it was meant to be a purposeful reminder of who he was supposed to be mated to. Every time he looked at it, he thought of where the color originated. No doubt it was the same for Legna when she saw her changed eye color in the mirror, the distinctive silver color all Gideon.

Elijah left his room and headed to the Great Hall. He hesitated midway down the central stairs when he saw Noah sitting by his fireplace, in pretty much the exact same position Elijah had seen him in when he had gone to bed. He glanced at Noah’s desk as he passed it, seeing the stack of notes and translations that had grown during the daytime.

“Did you sleep today?” he asked the King directly.

“Of course,” the King lied to him without taking his eyes from the flames he seemed to see so much in lately.

“Is everything all right, Noah?” Elijah persisted.

Noah finally looked up at him, giving him half a smile in reassurance.

“Hadn’t I ought to ask you that question?”

“I feel fine. In fact, better than fine. I’m beginning to wonder if Gideon has his facts straight about all of this.”

“Do not allow yourself to get overconfident, my friend,” Noah warned softly. “Gideon is rarely wrong.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” Elijah said. “Noah, forgive me for saying so, but exactly what planet are you on these past few days? You haven’t been yourself.”

“You know, I notice that people often think that way when they are avoiding talking about themselves. Worry about yourself, warrior. I am as I ever was.”

Elijah didn’t push the matter any further. Noah never kept his own counsel for long. He would talk when he wanted to and not a moment sooner. For the moment, the King was correct. He had his own troubles to focus on that night.

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“I think I’m going to see about giving Jacob a hand tonight,” he said, turning away from the King. “With Bella still not able—”

Elijah stopped when he felt Noah’s hand encircling his upper arm. He turned to see the King standing behind him and raised a curious brow.

“I do not recommend that. Jacob will manage on his own.”

“But—”

“Elijah, do I have to spell this out to you? Jacob and Bella are Imprinted and it is Samhain. I assure you, if you drop in on them unannounced, you will not be welcome.”

Elijah raised both brows in understanding as Noah’s meaning dawned on him.

Thickheaded male.

Elijah was almost getting used to the name-calling that went on in the back of his mind, but this was the first time he had heard it in response to something going on in his life. He was so distracted by hearing that lilting voice and the laugh that echoed after it, he forgot all about Noah and metamorphosed into a swift wind that shot out the nearest window.

Noah was left holding…nothing, a perplexed expression on his face.

Elijah’s first stop was the training yards.

He stood in the center of the working grounds and heard nothing but the creak of wooden training dummies and targets. It was actually eerie how abandoned the place was. Usually it bustled with activity from dusk to dawn. But it was a holy holiday, and no one was required to be there. In the past, however, there had always been someone working out there, trying to refocus energies that could be dangerous if otherwise directed. Apparently, Elijah had exercised them a little too hard while trying to exhaust himself, and no one was in the mood to come anywhere near their Captain or the training facilities.

So that was two strikes. He slowly walked across the training yards as he tried to think of what else he could do to occupy his time.

Perhaps you ought to make a sacrifice to the Goddess.

Elijah stopped in his tracks.

It is a holy day, after all, the voice continued.

“You know, you sure picked a fine time to get talkative,” he bit out, his voice echoing across the empty fields.

Elijah took a deep breath and turned his thoughts away from how that voice of hers, sexy even in her thoughts, seemed to seek out his spine in a way that stunned every nerve in his body.

Cursing under his breath, he twisted into a wind devil that kicked up the worn dust of the practice arena as he left.

An hour later, Elijah finally materialized in his own home, half the planet away from any Russian territories.

Content at last, he began to light lanterns and dusted off his favorite chair before sinking into it with a sigh. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, trying to release himself into the quiet of the night. His home was actually one of the modern log cabins. Though it had every amenity that came with modern housing, there was no use for it. Electricity and such would not work for him or anyone of his species, their kinship with the forces of nature making technology and most mechanics react adversely to their Demon biochemistry.

I know. I have had to resort to using the old gas lighting system in the castle since Legna and Gideon came to court.

Elijah sat upright in a shot.

Why was it that she sounded even closer than she had before?

Damn her, she sure picked a lousy time to taunt him. It was almost like she was asking for him to completely lose his mind and come looking for her. And, if he judged correctly the tension surging through him and the urges that followed, she would have her way soon enough if she kept this up.

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I’m not afraid of you, she whispered.

You should be, he warned, trying the connection himself for the very first time.

You’ll have to find me first.

Her original threat. She was no doubt taunting him because she believed she could hide herself from him. She believed herself to have superior skills, and therefore she had nothing to fear.

The challenge was a foolish one, and Elijah had thought her smarter than that. He felt frustrated and upset as he stood up and began to pace the floor.

Siena, you are playing with fire. You do not want to do this.

Shouldn’t I be the judge of that?

Damn her!

Elijah tried to push her out of his thoughts, running up the dark stairs to search for something, anything, to occupy his mind. To keep himself from thinking about her and his memories of her.

The more she spoke in that soft, sexy whisper, the more he remembered the same whisper in his ear as she purred and urged him to move deeper into her sweet body. He remembered it right down to the feel of her fingers in his hair, her nails skimming his back.

Elijah entered his library, quickly striking a match and lighting two of the lanterns on the table.

He was not much of a reader this century, tending to concentrate on his fighting skills and strategic abilities. Last century it had been perfecting his skills as a master weapons maker. As the library lit up, proof of that gleamed from every wall. There were about twenty swords, the variety diversified, and each made with his own hands from pommel to scabbard. Even the mounts they were displayed on had been painstakingly crafted by his own touch.