Keepers of the Flame (29 page)

Then
there was her sickness. If Raine got more than a couple of miles away from the
ocean her strength and energy faded, nausea claimed her stomach and throat.
Once she’d pushed herself a few steps too far up a hill and had passed out. She
thought rolling back down was the only thing that had saved her. This tavern
was built on a pier and she felt almost normal.

She
didn’t want to put her hands back into the water where the slime of yellow
phlegm-spit still floated.

She
had no choice.

The
tavernkeeper was watching. Forcing her gorge down, not daring to use the rag,
Raine flicked the congealed saliva out of the sink. It dribbled down the side
of the rough wooden cabinet. Raine rubbed it with her own skirt.

The
woman nodded. “Watch yourself,” she said, then left, shaking her head and
muttering “Half-breed half-wit.”

E
lizabeth woke
before dawn to a man’s knowledgeable touch on her breasts, passion sizzling
through her. Faucon. He explored her, and she let her own hands roam and stroke
and arouse, and they joined and shattered together.

Limply,
she stared at him, lying panting with closed eyes. How beautiful he was. He
came from a beautiful race, that golden skin, the slight slant of eyes and
sculpted features. Irises that ranged from amber to near black, hair that was
black, but held shades of dark red, brown, bronze.

He
opened his eyes—brown like bittersweet chocolate. His lips curved. Picking up
her fingers he brought them to his lips. “You are thinking. Don’t.”

“I—”
She didn’t want to say any of the things she should. I won’t be staying. My
life’s not here. You’re not the man I loved—and how that would hurt
this
man. A tiny flame of emotion flickered in the depths of her. Perhaps he could
be a man she loved. She extinguished it.

He
set her hand on his heart—still pumping rapidly after their activity—and
stroked her cheek. “Let us live in the moment, Elizabeth. I am Chevalier enough
to do that.”

Memories
of the long and hideous night before flashed back. Four dead in battle, a small
casualty of war, but she mourned wasted life. Her entire being fought against
wasted life. She hadn’t truly
enjoyed
her life, for far too long.

Her
muscles were loose, her body well pleasured, but heat rose. She slid her hand down
him and liked how his breath caught, how his cheeks tinted red under that
beautiful skin and his eyes gleamed. “I think we’ll find moments like this
often,” he said.

Why
not? Too many why nots. She wanted more of the expression she found in his eyes
when he made love with her, looked at her.

She
kissed him again and when he pulled her next to him and she felt the warmth of
him and strength of him and smelled the exotic scent of him, she smiled and
slept.

B
ri grunted as
she rose from the floor. She was less sore than the morning before. Since the
tower floor was equally hard as that of the tavern, she decided that the
lingering magic here somehow cushioned her. Or the simple fact that she was in
a place that felt “right” eased her mind as much as the floor made her muscles
ache. Though the morning was cold outside, it was pleasant in the wood-paneled
room.

She’d
rolled from the corner where Zeres still snored. When she stood and shook
herself, shock ran through her as she saw she’d slept in the center of a
pentacle. Looking around, it was evident that this was a magical workroom. She
sniffed. It smelled of old incense, cool morning coming from a broken window,
and roc.

“Roc,”
she called. There was the rumbling of a being fending off waking and huddling
into sleep, but nothing else. She decided the roc wasn’t a morning person.
Neither was she, usually, especially not unless she had a solid seven hours of
sleep, but the air in here invigorated her.

She
sent a gently questing probe to Elizabeth to reassure and discovered her twin
sleeping in a man’s arms.

Bri
sat down hard on the floor. Shit. Did Elizabeth know what she was doing?

Of
course not.

Should
Bri say anything to her?

Definitely
not.

But
Bri bit her lip as her heart twinged. Elizabeth had loved and admired and
respected Cassidy. When he’d dumped her, her self-image had taken a blow. Not
to mention that she was coming off the end of a
long
, stressful program
of study.

Bri
wondered who Elizabeth was with and only one name came to mind, Faucon Creusse.
His name brought his image and Bri admired Elizabeth’s taste. Bri only wished
she didn’t see heartache for one or both of them at the end of the road.

Elizabeth
would never give up her life on Earth for Lladrana, would she?

Bri
didn’t know. She went to the window and looked out on the green plains rolling
to green hills rising in the distance. Lladrana was beautiful. The sound of
wings came as a volaran and rider flew past. And fascinating.

But
deadly.

The
scrape of the door on the lowest level shot anxiety up her spine.

“Bri?”
It was Sevair, and she wasn’t quite ready to meet him. When she’d realized
Elizabeth was wrapped around some guy and loose with the boneless sleep of after-excellent-sex,
an image of herself had come to mind. With the very strict and upright Sevair.
Of all people.

He
couldn’t be less like the rock musician, whom she’d thought, once, was perfect
for her. A ripple of an idea that Sevair was as thorough and deliberate in his
lovemaking as he was in everything else sent warmth down her nerves.

She
squashed it. Neither Elizabeth nor she needed the complication of a Lladranan
lover.

Absolutely
no. She cleared her throat and answered, “Upstairs.” More wariness welled. How
would the Citymasters feel when she told them that she didn’t want the pretty
town house, preferred this tough old tower in the city wall?

Another
scan of the room soothed her. It was beautiful, wooden wainscoting at the
bottom, cream-colored finished stone above, windows. Simple, natural material.
No fuss. Just to her taste.

Sevair
climbed the stairs rapidly, a man in great shape. No, she wouldn’t think about
the shape of any of him.

“Sangvile.”
He sucked in a shocked breath on the floor below, raced up. He’d recognized the
remnants of the monster?

Then
he was in the room, lifting her off her feet, keeping her close as he scanned
the room.

These
Lladranan men moved
fast.

He
sure was solid. Not a pinch of fat on the man. And he was big, shoulders,
length of leg. Hard, too, her fingers on his biceps barely dented the muscle.

“At
least you weren’t totally alone.” He stared at Zeres, who was wheezing and
struggling to an elbow.

She
stared into Sevair’s brown-black eyes. “I, uh.” May as well just come straight
out with it. Lladranans should understand, shouldn’t they? Who the hell knew?
With all the events her judgement was totally screwed.

“This
place called to me. I like it.” She cleared her throat and beamed her brightest
smile. “I’ve found my spot in Castleton.”

He
didn’t slide her down his body, too bad. Plunked her on her feet. He was
frowning, but a quick check of his personal Song showed it was calm, if a
little irritated.

When
he glanced at her from under lowered brows, Bri noted that the fierce look made
him even more attractive. Nice.

Rubbing
his temples with one large hand, Sevair sighed. “Why should we have thought an
Exotique would want what we made for her?” He shook his head. “As unpredictable
as a fey-coo-cu.”

“It’s
a lovely house. A beautiful house,” Bri assured him. “It’s just not for me.”

“We’ll
keep it for you and Elizabeth. Let me look this tower over.”

Bri
gave a little cough. “There’s a roc nesting atop the stair tower.”

Sevair
stopped examining the room and turned his head slowly to stare at her. He
closed his eyes. Opened them. The stare returned. “Of course there is.” He
flung up his arms in a gesture of surrender, went to door and leaned on the
threshold, this time rubbing his whole face.

Then
he sent her one last cool glance and tromped down the stairs. His footsteps
were hard and steady, like the man, ringing against the stone steps. His
disgusted noise floated up along with some loud thumps, probably messing with
the broken outside door.

Bri
looked at Zeres, but he didn’t meet her eyes. “Too early for me.”

She
tapped a toe. “You are the strangest mixture of coward and hero.”

“Ha!”
He gathered his cloak, rolled over. “I’m human.”

She
found Sevair in the dark strip of kitchen in the back of the first floor, surveying
the “appliances.” Without the spells to keep food hot or cold or whatever, they
were simply cabinets.

As
she watched, he spread his hand on one and Sang a slow, brittle tune. The
cabinet glowed blue for an instant, then subsided. A refrigerator, cold box,
Bri deduced.

Then
he moved on to the next and a fast, bumpy tune—hot box to keep things warm.
Excellent.

When
he looked up, beads of sweat showed at his temples. He’d used more Power than
he was accustomed to, then. To make the tower better for her. She thought of
all the hard work everyone had put into the house and winced inwardly. “
Merci.”

He
grunted, reached for the hobo bag slung across his chest and hanging on his
hip, and pulled out two packets. Delicious scents came to her nose. He handed one
to her. At least she could eat here, not like yesterday, and alone with Sevair,
not a bunch of judging medicas.

Her
mouth watered as she removed rough paper from the wrapped food, found a thick
pastry pocket. When she bit in, the tang of eggs and crunch of bacon exploded
into her mouth. She chewed the first mouthful fast, swallowed.
“Merci.”

He
sent a level gaze at her. “When I realized you weren’t in your house, I
considered that you’d been out all night again.”

He
was taking care of her. And laying a guilt trip on her, too. Like her parents
would. Her parents! She sent a mental probe zinging toward the Castle. The
Circlets weren’t there.

Sevair
was leaning on the counter, eating, watching her. Nope, nothing like her
parents except he was a responsible, caring man.

Don’t
go there.

Another
swallow. “
Merci
again. I was just checking whether Marian and Jaquar are
back from—”

“Bossgond’s
Island. I asked Exotique Alyeka to keep me informed.” Strain lines bracketed
his mouth. “I don’t depend on anyone else.”

Alexa.
The Lladranans said her name funny, and Sevair had lost a trusted assistant to
the Dark.

“You
aren’t the only one to be betrayed,” she found herself saying.

Their
eyes met and in that moment they shared hurt. Then he looked away and tidied up
his wrapper, took hers and put it in his bag that he lifted off his shoulder
and set on the counter.

Hands
on lean hips he glanced around the room. “This will need work.”

Did
she catch a tiny sigh? “You don’t have to—”

He
raised his brows. “The care of the Exotique for the Cities and Towns is the
charge of the heads of the guilds and the Citymasters. We will provide for you.
Perhaps Elizabeth will use the house. She won’t stay up at the Castle under the
Marshalls’ thumbs forever. She is a medica, not a Chevalier.”

Bri
thought of Elizabeth and Faucon. “I wouldn’t bet on that.”

Sevair
narrowed his eyes. “Something else has happened.”

Straightening,
she nodded. “My sister.”

His
mouth tightened. “I rarely told secrets on my little sister, either.”

“I’m
the younger,” Bri said, irritated.

His
grin flashed.

She
lifted her chin. “By two minutes.”

With
a chuckle he shook his head and left the room.

There
was a melodious “caw,” the clatter of claws on the street outside, Sevair’s
gasp.

Bri
hurried from the kitchen, past Sevair whose mouth was hanging open as he looked
out the door, and into the cul de sac where the roc stood, stretching,
preening.

In
the small, paved area they stared at each other. The sun had risen, but they
were in the shadows. It would be midmorning before direct sunlight touched this
place.

Still,
the roc seemed to glitter. No, that wasn’t quite the word. Neither was glow. It
was more as if light was drawn to it and reflected off its feathers to give it
a larger than life, more colorful, appearance. Though it was large enough,
twice Bri’s height for sure, and she and Elizabeth stood five feet eight
inches. They were shorter and slimmer than most Lladranans. But the roc…Bri
closed her mouth.

She
and the roc were the only ones in the small courtyard, but she sensed others
watching from safely inside their homes.