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Authors: Jody Wallace

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BOOK: One Thousand Kisses
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“A safe house with a repository.” Embor inserted a key into the deadbolt, plucked a red berry from the bush and smashed it near the key.

This time she definitely sensed magic. Her inner ears popped and the door swung open. “What was that?”

“Privacy barrier.” He flicked the hull into the yard. “Aversion enhanced. That’s why I had trouble locating it.”

Now that he mentioned it, she recognized the effects. Aversion spells warned off unwanted visitors—or kept fairies who’d been brainwashed from remembering what had been done to them. But how could such a spell be maintained in humanspace? It would require a steady source of magic.

“How…” she began.

Embor gestured for her to wait on the steps. “I’ll explain momentarily.”

As she did so, she inspected the bushes. Some of the red berries were fakes, like her molar. Of the two ways to tote magic into humanspace, spell globes were the most common. Some fairies could pool magic inside themselves like leprechauns and bring it too. Did Embor’s assets live in this house and refresh the privacy barrier with a trunkful of globes?

The whisper of magic within the bungalow swelled briefly and whizzed past her like dust. Possibly a locator spell. Soon Embor returned to the doorway without their luggage or his sunglasses. His grey eyes scanned the yard. Tension crackled from him.

“No incongruities?” she asked.

“No.”

She entered without delay, uneasiness gone. After she used the facilities and healed her minor injuries with the globes in the restroom, she inspected the living area. She could detect Skythia’s tastes in the yellows and aquas and sturdy furniture. An open floor plan swirled around a kitchen area to the right and a staircase to the left. The largest television she’d ever seen was plastered against the front wall. Near the kitchen, a dinette set perched next to floor to ceiling windows. Sliding doors opened onto a wooden porch next to the towering tree.

In the center of the wide room, with everything positioned around it, lumped half of a lesser standing stone.

“What’s that doing here?”

“That’s the repository.” Embor, satisfaction evident in his voice, clasped his hands behind him. “Ring megaliths store more magic than any globe. With the stone here, we can maintain spells like the privacy barrier.”

“Can we use magic or speak to the cat?”

“Judiciously. It isn’t the same as being in the Realm.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing. Why haven’t people noticed?” Everything in the Realm held magic, living creatures more than nonliving objects. But the stone oozed power, and gnomes, who’d been proven to eat magic, certainly didn’t chew rocks.

“Ring fluctuations tend to mask the monoliths’ power. I should, ah, mention Skythia doesn’t know about it being here.”

“How so? It’s kind of hard to overlook.”

“I’ve dissuaded her from visiting for some time.”

“So you’ve been using her house without her permission for your secret lair?”

He shrugged, some color tinging his cheekbones. “It was expedient at the time, and this location has certain advantages.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” she assured him. Did he just realize how much information he’d given her? Whatever he was planning, whoever his assets were, his own sib didn’t know about them.

Ani trailed her fingers across the rough stone, its top uneven. Faint tingles danced around her. Incongruously, a pot of yellow flowers nestled on top.

“I plan to share the information eventually. After I capture the Torvals.” He came to stand behind her, closer than she’d expected. “Having it here makes humanspace almost bearable.”

“Did you use the stone to cast a locator spell?” He’d balked most questions related to his search, but he couldn’t hide everything. Not with such evidence tickling her fingers.

He inclined his head.

“Did it locate anything?”

“Yes.” His lips thinned into a brief, unpleasant smile.

Her stomach knotted. When would he go? She wanted to know he’d be safe. Wanted to help as a way of ensuring his safety. Most of all she wished this had been taken care of years ago so he wouldn’t have suffered.

But then they wouldn’t be here. She wouldn’t have spent this time with him, learning his quirks, his vulnerabilities, his touch.

If he had his way, their time would be over tomorrow. How much stock could she put in his claim he intended to make love to her? It sounded like one of those things you told someone to decline a bond test.

I’m not ready today. Maybe later?

“Where was this stone originally?” she asked. No one knew how the existing network of rings had been fashioned. All rings except the one Jake had created five years ago were bordered by megaliths of varying sizes and shapes.

“It’s from a remote circle.” He fingered a circular nub of stone that had been worn smoother than the others. His shoulder bumped her gently. “The megaliths are suffused with enough magic to last here for decades if they aren’t overdrawn.”

Had he noticed they were so close she could feel the heat of his body? After this morning, she was surprised he wasn’t plastered to the opposite wall. “How did you discover what the stones could do?”

“Jake started it.” He tested several more outcroppings on the stone’s top, leaning past her. A pebble worked itself loose in Embor’s hand.

“Jake?” she asked, surprised. Tali hadn’t said a word, the sly beast.

“Indirectly. After he created the second Vegas ring, certain factions at Court blocked the vote to devote resources to an extended study. I was interested so I proceeded independently. Even the Primaries can have hobbies.” He tossed the pebble idly in the air and caught it without taking his eyes from her face. “Did you know the green ring is shrinking at a mathematically consistent rate per annum?”

“Um, no.” She had to bend her neck to look at him. A slight spicy odor emanated from him despite the fact he wore new clothes and had bathed with human soap. “They didn’t teach that in magical theory.”

“The rings are stabilized by the megaliths. They’re like doorstops.”

“Does that mean the ring where this stone used to be will close?” She tried not to stare at his chest. Whenever she noticed his neckline, she wanted to slip her hand inside.

“Not that we’ve noticed.” Embor snapped his fingers around the pebble and replaced his hands behind his back. The movement widened his split neckline. “I haven’t tested what it would take to permanently close a ring.”

She should pay attention to the conversation. He’d volunteered more words at one time than she could ever recall. His habitually flinty expression was almost as animated as when he’d been… Well, she’d not been focused on his face at that particular juncture.

“Would you truly want to eliminate rings?”

He raised an eyebrow. Embor’s dislike for humanspace was better known than his romantic detachment, which was to say, every single Fey in the Realm knew his feelings on humanspace. Only folks at Court had heard of his hypothetical celibacy.

“Too many are insufficiently monitored.”

“But you wouldn’t close all of them.”

“Not for some years.”

He knew as well as she did Jake lived part-time in humanspace to retain his sanity. Since Tali had to stay with her bondmate, Ani would oppose closing the rings. With great vigor. But she was tired of being at odds with Embor and fell silent.

Embor placed the pebble in her hand, wrapping her fingers around it. He lingered a moment, long enough for Ani to wonder if he meant to…

No. He backed away. “Keep this. You can access the stored magic in an emergency.”

The stone felt heavier than it ought to, and hotter. Because he’d held it first? The pea-sized stone glinted, some mineral inside catching the light. “You take it. You’re the one going on a mission.”

“I have other resources.” He strode into the kitchen and began to assemble a meal. He didn’t ask what she might want—that would have taken words unrelated to his pet project.

She propped her hip against the island stocked with wine bottles and dishes. Only yesterday she’d bemoaned the fact Embor was impossible to converse with. Or was it the day before? She’d lived three years in the past couple of days. But now that she’d seen he did like to talk about some things, she was reluctant for him to recede to gruff silence.

“I was thinking,” she said as he located paper plates and utensils. “What if a search party shows up while you’re gone?”

“They won’t.” He retrieved a loaf of bread from the freezer and pried several slices off. These he inserted under the broiler of the oven. “The privacy barrier will deflect location spells. You’re safe here.”

She peered into the stainless steel refrigerator, which contained a number of nonperishables like canned beverages, spreads and sauces. She selected a soda.

”Will it deflect someone at the door? What if Skythia checks on her house?”

“Anisette, since they didn’t find us last night, I’m confident they won’t suspect we came here. It’s common knowledge I detest humanspace.” He dropped the toast pan on the stovetop with a clang and stuck a burned finger in his mouth.

She instinctively reached for him and checked herself. If Embor wanted her to heal his wounds or check his withdrawals, he’d ask. No doubt he had globes in the house.

Embor spread peanut butter on the toast and slid a sandwich to her on a plate.

“The children love PB&J sandwiches,” she commented. She was more a vegetarian pizza girl when she was in humanspace.

He stiffened. “There are cans of soup if you prefer. I didn’t select them, so it’s possible they contain meat.”

The Primary of the Realm had prepared a meal for her with his own two hands, and she’d indirectly criticized his efforts.

“I love PB&J too.” She bit into the sandwich with gusto.

“Good.” He folded his plate around the sandwich and headed for the stairs. “I must make my arrangements.”

Her mouth was too full to protest, so Ani just ate her sandwich, drank her soda and attempted to decipher the intricacies of humanspace’s largest TV.

Chapter Fifteen

 

The telephone rang three times before the Drakhmore on the other end picked up. “Burly’s Pawn.”

Embor said the words he’d been longing to say for a year. “It’s time.”

“Is this the police charity again?” Clangs in the background nearly drowned out the man’s voice. “We gave at the office when we bailed out Grandma.”

One of the difficulties in working with Drakhmores had been their inability to function as proper operatives. They recognized few cues and discussed secrets in public locations. Loudly. Though they’d improved from early days, he’d rather have recruited the Stonehauses. Unfortunately, he couldn’t risk using anyone from Court.

“This is Fiertag.”

“Hando!” Burly exclaimed. “What can I do you for? Pep globes?”

For whatever reason, the Drakhmores who spent the most time rotting their brains in humanspace referred to him as Hando Calrissian when he had two perfectly workable titles: Primary or Elder. Being that the Drakhmores had ceased recognizing the sovereignty of the Court after they’d been banned from it, if not before, he’d have settled for Fiertag.

“No,” he said, and repeated himself, as he often had to do with Drakhmores. “It’s time.”

“Time for what?”

Time for him to take more pain relief. But the Drakhmores’ inventive ferocity was unmatched outside of Milshadred and her siblings themselves. He’d hired psychotics to find psychotics.

“I have a tip on Milshadred’s location.” He chose some healing globes from a cabinet. “Notify all of our team except the Vegas agents.”

“No Jake and Tali?”

“No.” Embor rattled the tiny globes in his hand. “They’re not to be alerted. Drakhmore operatives need to report to K immediately, at the axis.”

“No Jake and Tali, call the gang.” Burly seemed to be writing down Embor’s instructions, per Embor’s previous instructions, after several incidents where wires had been crossed. “Where was K again, Alaska?”

“Key West.” He’d prefer a less obvious code himself, but the Drakhmores couldn’t even remember this one.

“Key West? Count me in. I could use some R&R.”

“I am counting you in.” Embor attempted to relax his jaw. His headache was bad enough without added pressure. “You’re a member of this operation.”

That should have been all the information Burly needed. Naturally, the man had more questions. “Why the axis instead of the house? We usually start at the repository.”

“The center is the prime site for the first point of the triangle.” From his initial scan of the island, he believed the Torvals were in Old Town. There was no need to meet at the house. The Drakhmores didn’t need to know about Anisette, nor she about them.

“This isn’t a drill?”

“It’s not a drill.” Embor activated the healing globe, which fizzed through his head like carbonated water—and out the other side, barely reducing his pain.

“Hot dang.” Burly cursed with great zeal. “We’re going to teach those hagridden maniacs not to mess with the Drakhmores.”

Eliminating the Torvals wasn’t about the Drakhmores, but Embor had leveraged their connection to Jake to secure their participation. The results would be the same.

“Indeed. Don’t dawdle.” Embor clicked off the cell and stowed it in his pocket.

He was anxious to begin. After checking downstairs to ensure Anisette was occupied, he opened the private safe where he kept his questionable globes. Sorting through the interior, first he chose the triangulation globes he’d created through semi-official channels with the Torval agents’ parents. Talista swore she was about to finalize the deadspace locators, but regular locators required family DNA to work. Clearly they didn’t have DNA from the Torval agents.

Now that the agents had scuttled out of hiding, there was no need to wait for Talista and her erratic methodology. Embor was this far—this far—from crushing the Torvals.

At last.

His hands began to shake. Embor allowed himself one sweet moment of victory. There was no need to bury the emotion with push-ups. He relished it.

He could almost taste the sixth-arts spells he and Jake had globed, the ones that would give him the Torvals. Acrid, dark, almost fetid. The spells did more than wipe memories, which the Court had been doing for eons. They did more than sway a single individual who fought it every step of the way.

They vanquished utterly. Controlled completely. The caster had dominion over as many sentient minds as he had the power to touch. Not even Jake, whose magic this was, could beat them, as long as the caster didn’t overextend the magic.

The prismatic surface of the control globes compacted like rubber balls. Embor packed all of them. Locating the Torvals had been the hard part. The rest would be as easy as setting fire to dry leaves. His pulse and mind raced, throbbing like a giant drum.

He couldn’t afford to grow jittery. Damned headache. When a second healing globe failed, he tossed the bottle across the room. Why now? He was a couple of spells away from putting an end to his nightmares and beginning the rest of his life. He finished loading his backpack, changed into combat gear and went downstairs to find Anisette.

She jumped up when she saw him. The cat was nowhere in sight. “You’re going?”

“Soon.”

There was no possibility this would end badly. He couldn’t understand the panic on her face. She started toward him, wringing her hands, and halted several feet away. “How long will it take?”

He shrugged one shoulder, his backpack light but awkward. “An hour for the retrieval. Another space of time to incarcerate the Torvals. At that point I’ll fetch you.”

He didn’t need all four Torvals to incriminate the AOC, and he wasn’t the only one tempted to exact a permanent revenge. The Drakhmores, as clannish as leprechauns, had murder on their minds. The whole clan doted on the Serendipity family and were convinced the triplets were going to bring about a new era in Realm government.

Embor didn’t agree. They were triplets, not twins, and certainly not lost ones. The Court ignored the Drakhmores as long as they didn’t affect the civilized majority of the Realm. This was another reason Embor had chosen them—less oversight. Plus their clanhome had a ring. Their access to humanspace, like Jake’s and Talista’s, was more flexible.

The Court wouldn’t have ignored what he’d been doing with the Drakhmores and Jake. Empowering a lost one? Teaching mind control? Few crimes were more heinous. He’d taken the risk anyway, and it was about to pay off. The Court and even the Commission wouldn’t scrutinize his methods when he produced the Torval agents, toppled the AOC and introduced a revolutionary method for humanspace search and retrieval.

The culmination of five years planning was at hand. An icy chill spread over his flesh as his heart pounded against his ribs.

“You don’t look well,” Anisette remarked, her eyes huge.

“Fluorescent lighting.” The aspirin had worn off, and the healing globes had been ineffective. He considered asking Anisette for help, but the words stuck in his craw.

If he asked, she might expect to help more. He would not involve her in this. Should anything go wrong, she’d be here, safe.

The possibility of something—anything—going wrong sent a shudder through him he couldn’t hide.

She inched toward him. “Your hands are shaking.”

He crossed his arms. “So?”

“Withdrawals.” She stepped closer, her skirt swishing around her ankles. “You can’t go like this.”

“Then treat me, if you must.” There. He hadn’t asked for help.

“Do you have globes or do you want me to pull from the stone?”

He handed her a few healing globes from a pocket of his utility vest. She ought not require more than a single spell to cure a headache, but there was no reason to tax the repository. It had a princess to hide.

She placed her hand against his chest, where the neckline of his human-made shirt gapped. Warmth flowed into him in a way that wasn’t magic. It was just Anisette. She rubbed his skin beneath the fabric of his shirt and vest, ending over his heart.

Her lashes hid her eyes. “Your heart rate is elevated.”

He could think of several reasons why. She squeezed a healing globe and drew in a quick breath when the magic poured into her.

“Your poor head,” she said softly. Healers could sense what their patients suffered. “I need another globe.”

He handed her one, conscious of her fingers splayed on his skin. After she popped the other globe, her second hand joined the first inside his garments. She slid them up his shoulders like an embrace, tracing the claw marks at his neck.

“Anisette, this is a peculiar style of healing.” He had no objection, as long as it was Anisette doing it, but it was peculiar.

She glanced at him uncertainly. “I healed your scratches and bites, but I can’t seem to find where the headache begins. Hm. Can you…” She backed him toward the repository.

He thumped into the stone and grasped her hips to halt her. The Drakhmores could call at any minute. If she came closer, this healing session was going to turn into something else.

“Oh dear,” she said, and he didn’t think it had anything to do with the fact he was getting an erection.

“What?”

“I was wrong.” Her thumbs met in the hollow of his neck, her warm clasp around his throat erotic instead of off-putting. His erection shifted out of the beginning stages and shoved against his loose trousers. Her lips pursed in concentration.

From this angle, he could see down her shirt.

“What were you wrong about?” he managed. The brassiere he’d purchased for her was pale pink. It seemed to fit.

“Your condition is worse than I thought. I don’t know how you’re conscious.”

“The same way I was in the Realm. Mind over matter.” He was conscious, all right. Electrified. Magic oozed from the repository as she extended her senses into his psyche. He loved knowing part of her was inside him. His hands tightened on her hips.

She frowned. His headache ebbed, returned with a stab, ebbed again. “The magic’s not right. It’s not responding the right way.”

“You don’t have to do this now.”

She exhaled and fell against him. “Good, because I don’t think I can.”

Their bodies pressed together for one long moment. While his vest kept their torsos apart, he thought it was very polite of her not to mention his erection.

“Will I survive?” he joked. Humanspace must be skewing her perception. He didn’t feel brilliant, but he didn’t feel like he was at Fet’s door.

“Not funny.” She whirled away. “I can’t even help you the one way I know how.”

“I don’t need your help, Anisette.”

She glanced back with her eyes narrowed. “You can’t do everything yourself.”

“I agree.”

“You do?”

“That’s why I have assets. I don’t need your help because I never expected you to be included. You’re not part of the plan.”

“Don’t you realize I would…” She threw up her hands. “Since you’re leaving me, can you be more specific?”

“What would you like to know?” He tried to clasp his hands behind his back and found the gesture prevented by his backpack. “Within reason. I won’t tell you anything that might incriminate you.” Or that included her sister and brother-in-law.

“How long before I know if you’re all right?”

“I’ll be all right. Now you know.”

“This isn’t the sixth century. Can’t you give me a communication globe?” She stuck her thumbnail in her mouth and cast her gaze anywhere but at him.

“Certainly.” He handed her an extra from a side pocket. “I’ll notify you when I’ve succeeded.”

“Can I call you in an hour?”

“Two. Don’t be concerned if I fail to respond. I may be preoccupied.” The situation had the potential to become time-consuming once he contacted his cabinet about the Torvals. This was something they’d already worked out. He, Jake and Talista would claim credit for the capture, leaving the Drakhmores and Jake’s magic out of the picture. Anisette would learn he’d plotted with her family, but it could wait until he’d succeeded.

Jake and Tali wouldn’t be happy with him, either, but the important thing was the capture. They’d always known there might be variables.

“Hells’ bells,” Anisette cursed, in a way that sounded more like her sister. “Seriously? Don’t be concerned?”

“Should anything become complicated, I’ll send someone for you.” His fingers clenched. “It’s possible the Torvals may resist.”

“Will they fight? Please, Embor, I’m a healer. I can’t fix the withdrawals here, but I could—”

“No.” His woman would get nowhere near this confrontation, for so many reasons. It should be bloodless. Jake had given him the ability to make it bloodless. Find them, control them, neutralize them.

He wasn’t sure he could settle for bloodless.

The gnomes. The burning. The torture, the abuse. All of it, all of what they’d done to him, had eaten at his insides until sometimes he felt like a shell of a person. He would do what needed to be done.

It might involve blood. It would not involve Anisette.

BOOK: One Thousand Kisses
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