Richelle Mead Dark Swan Bundle: Storm Born, Thorn Queen, Iron Crowned & Shadow Heir (49 page)

Indeed, when she answered the door, I suspected she would have met most people's visions of a shaman. She was an older woman, gray hair styled into a long braid down her back. Her loose peasant blouse was patterned in mauve and yellow flowers, and crystal beads hung around her neck. She broke into a beatific smile when she saw us.

“Eugenie! So nice to finally meet you.”

She ushered us inside, and I introduced Kiyo. The apartment was beautifully constructed and nicer than its outside suggested—but cluttered with candles and assorted statuary. It made me feel better after Art's immaculate home. The apartment was also filled with cats. I counted at least seven, and all of them looked up at Kiyo's entrance. Four of them got up and rubbed against his legs.

“You've certainly got a way with animals,” noted Abigail.

“I'm a vet,” he explained, giving her a winning smile that tended to make women weak in the knees.

Like Art, Abigail sat us down and forced beverages on us, this time in the form of herbal tea. We started with the usual small talk. Abigail was a big fan of Roland and couldn't say enough nice things about the work he did. I couldn't help feeling a little bit of stepdaughterly pride. When we finally got to the issue of gentry girls, though, Abigail didn't have much more to offer than Art had.

“Most of my work is actually along the lines of healing and spirit retrievals,” she explained. Spirit retrieval was itself a form of healing, often done when some entity was plaguing a human in a possession sort of way. I'd done it a few times but was no expert. “I don't do much in the way of casting out. That's Art's specialty, but that crossroads is so big that he sometimes gets more than he can handle. So, I help out every once in a while.”

“But you haven't noticed a surge of gentry girls?”

Abigail shook her head, making the crystal beads click together. “No, but like I said, I'm not out in the field enough to say for sure. And gentry usually aren't so difficult to cast out…. Art tends to handle those on his own and call me in for the entities that are harder for him to get rid of.” She gave me a rueful grin. “Neither of us is as strong as you or Roland.”

I played with my tea bag, wondering how to parse this new information. Was my theory about gentry girls sneaking over here a total bust? Or were they being crafty enough to avoid detection? I usually ended up casting out gentry because they did something troubling that put them on my radar. Gentry girls slipping in among humans wouldn't necessarily attract a lot of attention.

We thanked Abigail when we finished our tea and left for our hotel. I'd booked one that sat just on the edge of town. As we walked toward where we'd parked my car on the street, Kiyo declared that he wanted to take it over to a gas station on the corner for both gas and air for the tires. I told him I would walk down there and meet him. I wanted to browse a few of the shops before we called it a night.

Poking my head in the little stores gave me a chance to get my mind off the gentry girls and today's disappointing intel. Most of the shops were what you'd expect for a small town. Antiques. Vintage clothing. Crafts. One, however, was a sex-toy shop, and I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows at that. It was surprising in this town. Equally surprising was that I went in and bought something.

I met Kiyo at the gas station shortly thereafter. “Not much in the way of information,” he said as we drove out to the hotel.

“Yeah. I want to check out the crossroads in the morning before we go.” That was the main reason I'd chosen to actually come out to Yellow River in person, rather than simply call with my questions. “If that doesn't yield anything, we might just have to give this theory up.”

Kiyo shook his head, a small smile curling his lovely lips. “I don't know what to think of you sometimes. You're so annoyed about this whole queen thing, yet here you are, going to a lot of trouble to help these girls.” We reached the hotel and found a parking spot. He turned off the car.

“And let me guess. You want me to stay away from it all?”

“Only inasmuch as it'll keep you safe. But truthfully? What you're doing is great.”

The look he gave me showed just how great he thought it was—and how great he thought I was. There was admiration there in his eyes, underscored with something heated and dangerous and wonderful. I might make jokes about his animal intensity, but when channeled into sex and passion…well, there was nothing to laugh about. My whole body felt the heat of his gaze, every nerve coming to life.

“Let's go inside,” I said softly.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “No place I'd rather be.”

His hands were on me as soon as we cleared the hotel room's door, reminding me of the first night we'd spent together. He pushed me onto the bed, tearing off my clothes as he did. I wanted to sprawl right there and let him take me—but just barely had enough presence of mind to wriggle away.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” I asked, my breathing hard.

His dark eyes were hungry and impatient. “If it gets the rest of your clothes off right now, then yes, I stand by whatever I said earlier.”

“About expanding our horizons?”

This gave him pause. “What did you have in mind?”

I slipped away from him—no small feat—and produced my purse and the purchase I'd hidden in it: the bag from the sex-toy store. I pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

“Are you serious?” Kiyo asked, not sounding particularly opposed so much as curious.

“That headboard's got a nice spot to lock your wrists in.” I might dream of Dorian restraining me, but right now, it was the thought of me being Kiyo's captor that aroused me.

“Me?” This was a surprise to him too. He hesitated only a moment, though. There was desire and lust radiating from him, and while he might have preferred simply jumping in and having his way with me like usual, the bottom line was that he wanted me, period. One way or another. “Okay.”

He pulled off the rest of his clothes and lay back against the bed's covers, hands stretched up. I paused to admire his body, filled with such strength and power. After removing my own clothing, I leaned over him and fastened one wrist to the headboard. I heard his breath catch as I did, my breasts only a few inches from his face. His other hand immediately went out to my hip and ran up along the side of my body. I pulled away, out of reach.

“Not allowed,” I warned. “You don't get to call the shots here.”

He gave me a saucy grin. Being tied down wasn't in his nature, but he felt bolder with only one hand bound. He was still able to feel in control.

“I've got another hand and two feet,” he pointed out.

I smiled sweetly and reached back into the bag. I pulled out three more pairs of handcuffs. His smile faded to astonishment.

“Don't worry,” I said. “I've got it covered.”

I made sure all his hands and feet were locked into place, putting him at my mercy and ensuring he wouldn't do anything I didn't want him to. And as I lowered my hips down near his face, spreading my thighs so that the warmth of his mouth and tongue had no choice but to lick and suck as long as I wanted, I felt smug satisfaction in knowing for certain that I would be the one who got off first tonight.

Kiyo took off as soon as we got back to Tucson, saying he had to go to work. He also added that I shouldn't expect him later that night since he'd promised Maiwenn he'd come visit. Normally, that would have set my mood plummeting—and I won't lie, I wasn't thrilled as it was—but after last night, I felt superior and confident in my position with him at the moment. Somehow, I doubted he'd be looking at Maiwenn with the same awe he kept regarding me after I'd ridden him to exhaustion last night. If the crossroads in Yellow River—which we'd visited before heading out of town—had only yielded some answers this morning, I would have considered the trip a resounding success.

“Nice of you to spend some time around here,” Tim told me when I emerged from the shower. As usual, he appeared to be cooking something.

“What's that?” I asked, watching him roll out dough.

“Cinnamon rolls,” he replied. “The second batch I've had to make, thanks to
someone
raiding the kitchen while they cooled.” He shot a glare over in the direction of one of the dogs—Yang, I thought—lying under the table. Yang looked extremely pleased with himself.

“Sorry,” I said, even though it wasn't exactly my fault.

Tim finished rolling out the dough and sprinkled the surface with a mixture of cinnamon and brown sugar. “And don't think you're going to change the subject about never being around.”

I found a Coke in the refrigerator and sat down, a little irritated over the scolding. “Well, sorry you miss my company, but I don't really see how it matters. Our deal is you live here rent-free in exchange for cooking and cleaning. Me not being here means you have less work. Besides, I've had things to do.”

He scowled. “Yeah, I suppose. But do your ‘things' actually involve your job—the one that gets the mortgage paid? Your secretary called last night and said you missed an appointment. And you know, dealing with her isn't part of my rental agreement.”

Despite having never met, Tim and my receptionist, Lara, had an antagonistic relationship over the phone. I had no time to give to their drama today, though. The other news was too startling. “I did what?”

I took out my phone, which also doubled as my planner. In addition to two missed calls from Lara, I discovered I had indeed missed an appointment for a banishing last night. I'd been so fixated on my quest in Yellow River that I'd totally forgotten I had it.

“Shit,” I muttered, dialing Lara's number. As keen as I was on these missing girls, Tim had a point—my human jobs paid the bills. Not the gentry ones.

“What happened?” demanded Lara as soon as she answered. No hello.

“I got distracted by something else,” I said. “I'm really sorry. You think we can reschedule? Give them a discount or something?”

“Probably,” she conceded. “I mean, it's not like they've got many other options to get rid of a ghost. In the meantime, though, I've got some other pending clients.”

I hesitated. Normally, I wouldn't think twice about accepting as many jobs as I could. It was good for my bank account and a good deed for the world. With as much as the Otherworld was preoccupying me, however, I couldn't afford losing the time right now—or possibly missing another appointment.

“Reschedule the one I missed and book only one of the others. Tell the rest we have to wait-list them.”

Lara was silent for several seconds. “Are you serious?”

“Afraid so.”

She sighed. “Okay. You can still pay my salary, though, right?”

“Yes,” I laughed. “I haven't gone bankrupt yet.”

“Okay then.” She sounded only moderately pacified. “But for the record? Your roommate needs to learn some manners. He was a total asshole when I called last night.”

Before we disconnected, Lara made sure to remind me about two jobs I had later that day. She wouldn't get off the phone until I repeated the times and places back to her. I was just as eager to take care of them as she was, as sort of a mental retribution for the missed one from last night. I'd never forgotten a job before. My career might be an unusual one, but I still considered myself a professional and didn't want to start falling into bad habits as a result of all this Thorn Queen business.

And yet…as soon as I finished those jobs, I had to send myself back to the Otherworld. I only intended it to be a quick visit, though. I simply needed to check Shaya's progress and find out if the runaway girl had been located. Questioning her would make this whole search and rescue a lot easier and let me get on with my human life.

The news wasn't good, however.

“No sign,” said Rurik, once I hunted him down in the castle. I'd found him in a compromising position with one of the cooks. “We've got people scouring the area but haven't had any luck. We did, however, find where those bandits have relocated. Do you want us to go after them?”

I hesitated. I did want to round them up, both to take the pressure off the villages and see if they knew anything about the girls that my prisoners hadn't. In the end, I shook my head. If they still had that fire demon summoner, I didn't want to go after them until we had an overwhelming show of strength.

“No. Not yet. Just keep looking for the runaway.” I gave a sidelong glance toward the kitchen, into which the woman whose skirt he'd just had his hand up had disappeared. “You know, if it's not too much of an inconvenience.”

At least the news from Shaya was good. The supplies Dorian had sent me home with had been shipped out, and apparently Leith had contacted her to say that after going through the irrigation book, he had some ideas for us. Naturally, he wanted to meet with me again. I suspected an ulterior motive, but it was something I'd happily endure to keep the food coming. I at least felt like Leith's intentions were easier to understand than Dorian's—and that I was a lot less likely to yield to temptation along the way. I sent the young prince a message back, saying I'd love to meet with him. On impulse, I also asked if he had anyone who might be capable of summoning water demons. Once that chore was done, I made motions to go back to Tucson.

“Well? Are we going to get this done with or not?”

I turned around, surprised to see Ysabel standing there in the hallway, hands on her hips. I'd been heading out toward the courtyard to do a little communion with the land before returning home. The heat was sweltering, as usual, and most of the women around here had taken to wearing light, gauzy gowns, often with short or no sleeves—not unlike the dress I'd worn to Maiwenn's party. Ysabel had made no such concessions and stood clothed in a green velvet gown, complete with long bell sleeves. The color looked stunning with her hair, but I knew she had to be miserable.

“Get what done with?”

She threw up her hands in exasperation. “This…tutorial. Or whatever it is my lord sent me here to do.”

Oh, right. I hadn't forgotten Ysabel, exactly. I'd just kind of tried to pretend she didn't exist, in a feeble (and futile) hope that she might just disappear. No such luck.

“Sorry,” I said, returning her hard look. “I don't really have time.”

“You promised Dorian,” warned Ysabel. “And until you do this,
I
can't leave this godsforsaken place. I want to go home.”

I shrugged and turned away. “We can't always get what we want. Kind of like that song. God knows I haven't.”

I'd barely taken one step when a huge gust of wind shot toward my back, whipping my hair in front of me and rustling the tapestries on the wall. I immediately came to a halt and looked back at her. Her expression was both smug and hostile.

“What's the matter? Afraid you can't keep up with me?”

Charming. The old baiting tactic. She was hoping to get her way by playing on my pride. It was like the lamest trick in the book…except, well, it was kind of working. Okay, it was more than just my pride here. I was succumbing to temptation. With hardly any effort, Ysabel had just nearly knocked me over. It was more than I could do—much more—and her power nowhere near matched mine. If I had that kind of mastery, I could create hurricanes and blow apart buildings. Being in full possession of my magic would make me a god.

That shouldn't have mattered. I shouldn't have wanted that…but some secret part of me did. Well, not the god part. But certainly the rest. Power like that could help my people, I tried to convince myself.

“Okay. Let's get this over with then.” I acted like getting rid of her was my only concern—not that that wasn't a huge motivating factor.

This castle, I was finding, was filled with rooms—most of which didn't seem to have much use. Most of the servants and guards had their own quarters, still leaving a ton of rooms unoccupied and gathering dust. I really only had need of my meeting room and parlor when I was there, and the rest had thus far stayed unused.

The parlor was apparently being cleaned, so on impulse, I led Ysabel to one of the abandoned rooms. It had a river-rock fireplace that wasn't going to see use anytime soon, but the striped brocade furniture hadn't accrued too much dust. I flounced down onto a chair, arms crossed and posture defensive.

“Okay. Make this fast.”

Ysabel examined her sofa carefully before easing down and spreading her voluminous skirts around her. She crossed her hands on her lap, and if not for the expression on her face that said she wanted to rip me apart, I would have said she looked dainty and ladylike.

“Dorian says I'm to teach you to improve your power with air.”

“Something like that.”

She eyed me critically. “Before we begin, I want it made abundantly clear that I am
not
doing this by choice.”

“Really? I hadn't noticed.”

Her lips curled into a sneer at my sarcasm. “I don't know what Dorian sees in you. You think you're so clever and witty when really, you're just a plain, uncouth human.”

“Half-human,” I corrected. “And plain or not, your boyfriend—and, like, every other guy around here—would give up his right arm to get me into bed.” I really shouldn't have provoked her like that. Not only was it mean, it was also going to make this whole magic lesson probably even more unbearable.

“Believe me, it's through no charm of your own. It's only the prophecy and your alleged breeding ability, and once that's run its course, well…” She demurely smoothed the wrinkles out of her skirt, not that there really were any. “It's only your child anyone will have interest in, not you.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but there isn't going to be a child.” Not as long as my doctor kept prescribing me birth control pills.

Ysabel looked up, face filled with skepticism. “Oh? Then why are you with the…kitsune?” She said
kitsune
like it was a dirty word. Dorian often did too, though he did it mostly to irritate me. I think Ysabel legitimately looked down on Kiyo. “If you really are a queen…” She looked skeptical over this as well. “…then why lower yourself by taking him as a consort? The only reason you would have is in the hopes of him fathering a child on you, just as he did Maiwenn. Clearly, he's proven his virility…which might be of particular concern to you. You claim you're trying
not
to conceive, but perhaps that's a lie to hide the fact that you
can't
.”

“What? That's insane!”

“Whereas I…” She ran her hands proudly along the sides of her hips. “…have already bore two children.”

Whoa. That was startling—and a point of pride for her, no doubt, considering the gentry fertility issue. “To whom?” For some reason, the thought that it might be Dorian bothered me.

“My husband. He was killed years ago in battle.” She frowned slightly, the first sign of soft emotion I'd seen on her. In a flash, her normal bitchy expression returned. “They live with my parents right now and are healthy and strong. My lord Dorian knows I can undoubtedly have more. That's why he cast you aside for me, forcing you to turn to the kitsune for your fleeting chances of offspring.”

“That's not what Dorian and I—never mind. Look, for the last time, I'm not with Kiyo to get pregnant, okay? I'm with him because I love him.”

She sniffed. “I find that unlikely. If you just wanted a lover for pleasure, you would pine for my lord. No other man can match his skills in the bedroom. When he binds my hands in ropes or paints my flesh, I find no greater ecstasy than—”

“Whoa, just stop,” I said, holding up both hands. This entire conversation was grating on my last nerve. “I do
not
want to hear any details about your sex life with Dorian, okay? That is not part of this deal. No part at all. I don't want to—wait. Did you say something about painting?”

A sly smile lit her features. “My lord has a great appreciation for art. Often, before we make love, I'll lie naked before him and let him use my body as a canvas. He will spend hours adorning my flesh with color and design, often using the paintbrush as a means to pleasure me and—”