Richelle Mead Dark Swan Bundle: Storm Born, Thorn Queen, Iron Crowned & Shadow Heir (21 page)

“Haven't you ever been in the human world before?” I asked, once we all sat down.

“There you go again, assuming we all just traipse over here for no good reason.”

“So you haven't.”

“Well, actually, I've vacationed here a number of times. Not in this desolate place, of course, but several other nice spots.”

I rolled my eyes and slapped butter on my toast. It was made of good, hearty bread, chock-full of whole wheat and about a billion other grains. You could use this stuff as sandpaper.

I doused my coffee with sugar and cream, gulping it to chase down some ibuprofen. I might not be dying anymore, but myriad aches and stiffness filled my body. I didn't think I could handle regularly getting into high-magnitude fights every other night.

When the whole prophecy thing had surfaced, I had joked that I preferred attempts on my life to sexual advances. I didn't really believe that anymore. At least when the bad guys wanted my clothes off, it bought me some time. That fachan, however, had had no intentions short of crushing me. And he'd done a pretty good job of doing that. I had never fought something so massive before. Most of my fights, before this all started, had been with spirits and elementals. I could take them out with barely any effort. The fachan had been in a different league. The spirit army from the other day had also been new.

Dorian's words rang back to me. The fachan had been deliberately sent. But by whom? One of the many who had a grudge against Odile? Someone like Maiwenn who wanted the prophecy to fail? Maiwenn herself? This latter thought bothered me. She'd seemed more or less trustworthy, despite her bland personality. If she turned into an enemy, it was going to create some serious friction between Kiyo and me.

We finished breakfast, and Dorian declared we had to go outside for our lesson. I took one look at him and the scalding sunshine and saw imminent disaster for that perfect, alabaster skin. Figuring he wouldn't want my prissy, vanilla sunscreen, I dug him out a wide-brimmed cotton hat of Tim's that looked only mildly ridiculous.

“Are you going to be able to do this?” I asked, leading Dorian out to my back patio. Tim had left for drumming practice, but Kiyo followed us, still watchful. “Your magic's weaker on this side.”

Dorian draped his elegant robes over a lawn chair. “Not me who needs to do the magic. And really, I doubt you will either. Not in the way you're thinking of. Hmm…yes, this area may work better than I'd hoped.”

He surveyed the patio area and the small grassless yard surrounded by a stucco wall. Dragging up another chair, he set it near the center of the patio, facing the house, and beckoned me to it. I sat down.

“Now what? More meditation?”

He shook his head. “Now we need a bowl of water.”

“Kiyo? Can you grab us one? There's a big ceramic bowl in the back of one of my cupboards.”

Kiyo silently complied, looking as though leaving us alone for even one minute would result in Dorian trying something. I found that protectiveness endearing, albeit a bit over the top.

And then Dorian did try something.

“What are those?” I exclaimed.

“Think of them as…learning aids.”

He had produced a handful of silken cords from the deep pockets of his robe, all in different colors.

“What are you—no. You are not serious.”

He had moved behind my chair and grasped my hands. I jerked away.

“You're trying to tie me up?”

“Not for sinister purposes, I assure you, although if you'd like to experiment with them later, I'd be happy to show you their various and sundry uses. For now, simply trust me that they'll be useful.”

I continued to regard the cords warily. He shook his head, smiling. Moving behind me, he gently ran his hands down my arms. “You still don't trust me. And yet you do. An interesting mix. You fear me but want to connect with me. Do you remember what I said the night we met?” He knelt down, speaking softly in my ear. “This is exactly the way it will be when you come to my bed. You'll surrender yourself, and though it'll scare you, you'll exult in it too.”

“I think you're imagining more to our charade than there is. And I don't really see myself feeling exultant over being tied up.”

“Have you ever tried it?” His fingers slowly slid back up to the sleeves of my shirt, like butterflies on my skin. It was…nice. I shrugged him off.

“No. And I don't need to. Besides, whatever your kinky intentions are, it doesn't matter. I've got something going with Kiyo.”

“Ah. Of course you do. From what I hear, he's always ‘got something going.'”

I stiffened. “Don't try to cause trouble.”

“I'm attempting nothing of the sort. Just stating a fact. A man with human blood is just as appealing to our women as you are to our men.”

“I already know about Maiwenn.”

“I see. What do you know?”

“The truth. They used to be involved. Now they're not.”

“Ah. And that doesn't bother you? Especially considering it's likely she'll try to kill you someday?”

I turned around as much as I could and glared at him. “I meant it: Don't try to pick a fight. I trust Kiyo, and I like Maiwenn. End of story. Now if you're going to tie me up, just get it over with.”

He rose from his crouch, the sensuality gone from his voice as he began the business of binding me. “I'd never dream of picking a fight. Your pet fox in there will break my neck if I so much as look at you the wrong way.”

“Don't act like you're actually afraid of him. You can supposedly bring down buildings.” I relaxed back in the chair and let him tie my hands together behind me. He took a long time in doing it, like he was weaving or braiding.

“Why, Eugenie, are you saying you'd wager on me in a fight? I'm touched. Very touched. Although, I do hear foxes have very sharp claws. How are those scratches on your back, by the way?”

Kiyo walked out just then, carrying the bowl of water. He froze when he saw Dorian tying a cord above my breasts and around my upper arms.

“What's this?”

“An awakening,” said Dorian.

“It's fine,” I said. “Set the water over there.”

Kiyo did so and then stood next to me, arms crossed and eyes on the gentry king.

Again, Dorian took his time in tying my upper body. He used multiple cords, and able to see better this time, I realized he had indeed woven them into an intricate pattern. Aesthetic and functional.

“There.” With a last tight knot, he straightened up and regarded his work. “Not bad. It seems I haven't forgotten how to tie a decent knot after all. One more thing, and we're set.”

“One more thing” turned out to be a blindfold.

“No way,” I said.

“Eugenie, my sweet, your outraged protests are adorable, but they only continue to slow us down. If you want me to help you, then let me. If you don't, then take me to one of those places where human women wear revealing clothing and quickly lose their virtue through alcohol.”

I let him blindfold me, feeling uneasy. I trusted Kiyo and sort of trusted Dorian, but the other bindings had already unsettled me. I didn't like being trapped or in someone else's control. The bright world went dark as fabric covered my eyes.

“This is all giving me a bad feeling,” Kiyo said nearby.

“On the contrary,” said Dorian, “it's giving me a very warm, very pleasant feeling. But I suppose we should return to the lesson at hand, hmm?”

“Is this the part where you explain the bondage getup?” I asked. “Or where I find out you just did it for fun.”

“No, no. As hilarious as that would be, I do have my reasons. Now. I'm going to pick up this bowl of water that Kato so kindly fetched—”

“It's Kiyo,” came the irritated response.

“So sorry. Anyway, I'm going to set it somewhere out here in this miniature wasteland, and you will tell me where it is.”

“Oh. I get it. I'm supposed to, like, work on my non-visual senses? Listen to where you set it?”

“You won't use any of your physical senses at all.”

I heard him walk away, presumably with the water, but I couldn't tell where he set it. He paced and paced in circles, kicking rocks and scuffing his shoes so I was clueless by the time he returned to me. When he spoke next, his words were right by my ear again.

“Now, given freedom, even with just a blindfold, you'd be inclined to move and want to use something—
anything
—to find the water. You'd turn around, sniff the air, whatever. Now you have to accept that all of that is gone. You cannot rely on what you usually can. You are trapped and powerless—more or less. Give in to that. Open yourself up to whatever comes. Find the water.”

“How?”

“By reaching out to it. Tap into a sense other than the usual five. Remember the exercises we did last time, about reaching beyond yourself—in this world, not the spirit one.”

“I thought magic was inborn. Isn't that what separates humans and gentry?”

“It is inborn. And your inner magic summons and controls storms. To do that, you must summon and control the appropriate elements. And to do
that,
you must be able to find them. Hence, you focus outward.”

“How do I do that?”

“Just concentrate. But relax too. Think about the water. How it feels, what it's like. Spread your consciousness out around you, but don't go into a trance and let your spirit slip out. That'd be cheating.”

“How long does it take?”

“As long as you need.”

He retreated, and I sat there and waited for some revelation. Okay. Somewhere around me was a bowl of water. And something inside of me was supposed to be able to sense it. I wouldn't have believed any of it if the living room on the other side of the patio door didn't stand as proof of my supernatural powers. But I hadn't had to think to cause the storm. This was different.

All I mostly felt at first was my own body. Dorian's binds didn't hurt me, but they were snug. The stitched-up cut stung a little. The back of my head ached. My leg muscles felt stretched and inflamed. I slowly took inventory of every part of me, assessing how each one felt. I could feel the beat of my own heart, the steadiness of my breathing.

After that, I started concentrating on the stuff around me. I heard someone, Dorian maybe, slide up a chair and sit down. A plane droned overhead. One of my neighbors kept a bird feeder, and sparrows regularly chirped and squabbled around it. The harsher cries of less melodic birds sounded in the distance. My street had few houses and was removed from real traffic, but a block or so away, a car started and then drove off.

I thought about water, its appeal growing as the sun beat down. I had put on my own sunscreen and was grateful for it. Still, I could feel sweat pouring off of me. Water would be cool, refreshing. My mom's house had a pool, and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to dive into that crystal-blue surface.

I thought about the bowl of water, thinking of its cool temperature, the wetness on my skin. I tried to feel it, to call to it.

“There,” I said at last. I don't know how much time had passed. Awhile.

“Where?” asked Dorian.

“Four o'clock.”

“What?”

“She means over there,” I heard Kiyo say. Presumably he pointed.

“No,” said Dorian.

“What?”

“Sorry.”

“Was I close?”

“No.”

“Not even a little?”

“No.”

“Damn it! Get me out of this.” I wriggled against my constraints.

“Hardly.” Dorian's voice held mild surprise. “We must try again.”

“Oh, dear lord. This might be even more boring than the meditation,” I grumbled. “Can I at least get something to drink?”

He hesitated. “Actually, I think your odds will increase if you're thirsty.”

“Oh, come on—”

“Here we go,” said Dorian. I heard him get up and walk around again, and once more, I couldn't tell where the bowl ended up.

When he returned to his chair, I tried again. More time passed as I concentrated my little heart out. At one point, I heard someone get up and move toward the door.

“Who is that?”

“Me,” said Dorian. “I'm bored.”

“What? You're my teacher.”

“The kitsune will call if you need me.”

“I don't believe this,” I said when he was gone.

“Hey, this was your idea,” said Kiyo.

I heard him shift in a chair, getting comfortable.

I was on the verge of my next guess when Dorian came outside again.

“There. Nine o'clock.”