The Barrier Between (Collector Series # 2) (20 page)

My eyes darted around. “For how long exactly?”

“You already bored?” Ryker smirked, moving his frame
close to mine.

“No... yes.” I shifted my weight. “I’m anxious.”

Ryker nodded and his hands moved to my face. His
fingers softly stroked my lips, brushing off the leftover sugar.
His gaze was intense on mine. “Still some left.” He pulled me to
him, his warm mouth covering mine.

“Ugh. I’m not hungry anymore.” Sprig gagged but
continued to lick every grain of sugar from his fingers.

“Me either.” A deep voice came from behind me. I spun
around to see Croygen standing only feet away, leaning comfortably
against a boulder, like he had been there for a while. He probably
had. Croygen’s normal facial expression was to look disgusted at
everything, but seeing Ryker and me kissing created a snarl of
repulsion over his features he did not try to hide. I could all but
hear him think:
a human fraternizing with a fae, how
disgusting
. Croygen made it clear how he felt about humans in
general, but I seemed to offend him even more.

Melosa’s words came back to me.
“Do not trust the
man in black. His soul is corrupt. He will trick and deceive.
Neither of you are safe.”

My muscles automatically locked up in defense.
We
don’t have a choice,
I repeated to myself. We have to trust
someone.

“Were you watching us the whole time?” Ryker folded
his arms. We should have known Croygen was already there, blending
in with the backdrop.

Croygen was again dressed in black pants, a
long-sleeved black shirt that reminded me of pirates, a long, heavy
velvet jacket lined with gold piping, and heavy boots. He seemed
oblivious to the heat pounding from the sky. His shoulder-length
dark hair was pulled back in a bun, and his thick black beard
covered his face. All he needed was a hook and eyepatch.

I was surrounded by a pirate, a Viking, and a talking
monkey. Disney had nothing on me.

A sneer trekked over Croygen’s mouth as he looked me
up and down. “Let’s go,” he barked at us.

Ryker’s shoulders rotated back, his chest expanding.
He deliberately moved away from me, showing he would not be
intimidated or bossed around.

Croygen’s lids narrowed. He was seriously
intimidating. Fighting taught me there were those people who put up
a front and tried to come across frightening, and there were those
people who truly were. Both Ryker and Croygen fell into the
latter.

I squeezed Ryker’s hand, giving him a tight smile,
before letting it drop. I turned and started walking to Croygen. I
could feel in my gut our happy little world was about to change.
The delicate connection between us was going to be strengthened or
broken.

We followed Croygen as he guided us deep into the
mountain range, edging along the trails near the high peaks of
Machu Picchu but far away from any tourists. Sweat trickled down my
face, and I was wishing I had bought more churros and water when
Croygen finally stopped. “We go through here.”

“Through where?” My head darted between Croygen and
the spot he pointed at. I saw nothing out of the ordinary.

“Otherworld door,” Croygen sniped.

Ryker leaned into my ear. “Look closer. You should be
able to see through the glamour.”

I squinted at the area where Ryker was pointing. I
didn’t know how I missed it. The air vibrated and pulsed like sound
waves. I’d never seen one, but Seattle had continuously been a
hotspot for these doors connecting our world with the Otherworld.
It was how the fae traveled between realms.

“Do you even know how to use these anymore?” Croygen
snapped at Ryker.

Ryker tilted his head and glared back. “Until
recently, I didn’t have to use these fuckin’ things, but it doesn’t
mean I forgot how. Not really all that difficult.” Ryker crossed
his arms. “Oh sorry, I meant for me.”

Croygen’s fists clenched.

Ryker said Croygen was an old friend, right? If this
was his friend, I’d hate to see his enemies.

“If your little human toy knew how to work your
powers, we could have been there by now.”

Ryker disappeared from my side and in an instant was
in front of Croygen, grabbing his throat. “Tell me again why I
saved your life?”

Saved his life?

“Don’t think it hasn’t been a thorn in my side,”
Croygen seethed.

“Why are you helping us?”

“I already told you. Because I want to be clear of my
debt.”

Ryker’s grip constricted around the pirate’s neck.
“Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because you’re an untrusting, cocky son of a bitch!”
Croygen hissed, saliva spraying from his mouth.

“If you betray me or Zoey, I will hunt you down to my
last dying breath.
That
is my oath to you.” Ryker shook him,
his eyes burning.

Croygen licked his lips as if to say “bring it.”
These two were on the verge of tearing each other apart.

“Ryker, stop.” I touched the arm holding Croygen
dangling from the ground. “We don’t have time for this crap. Kill
or make out with each other later. Right now we need to go.”

“Ahhh, come on,
Bhean
. Some popcorn and a soda
and this would have been like watching gladiators.”

“Real gladiators or the movie?”

“The one with obstacles and spandex.”

“Of course.”

Ryker let Croygen go, his neck imprinted with Ryker’s
fingerprints. Croygen straightened his shirt out, his glare still
on Ryker.

“If you only knew what is ahead of you.” He smirked,
shook his head, and walked away. Only a few feet into his steps he
vanished.

My stomach gurgled with his words. Was it too late to
run? What were we getting into? I took a few steps backward then
stopped. Ryker looked over his shoulder and held out his hand. He
didn’t say anything, but I understood the gesture. We would do this
together. Whatever was ahead of us, we would deal with it. It’s
what we did.

“I’m going home!” Sprig chirped excitedly as he held
on to the flap of my bag and hopped up and down.

“We’re not actually going to stay in the Otherworld,”
Ryker said to Sprig.

“I know, but even to feel its magic again when we
pass through the doors will be enough.”

Ryker tugged me forward and we stepped through
together. Immediately a bustling energy sizzled through me. The air
was thick as it brushed against my skin, sending my hair on end.
The magic rushed through the space; my lungs struggled to breathe.
Ryker kept his fingers securely through mine, never letting go. He
escorted me in and out of doors so fast my head spun. We exited
briefly into cities, like Paris and Sydney, to rural areas I didn’t
have time to recognize. Finally, we caught up with Croygen, and
together we all stepped through another door.

My flip-flops crunched down on a bed of white powder.
My skin prickled as cold snowy air circled around us. I clutched
myself to hold any warmth to my body. “Shit! You could have told us
we were going to the snow,” I exclaimed.

Croygen smiled, his eyes glinting with delight.

Now his outfit made more sense. I glared at him, but
he was loving my discomfort too much. Sprig, in his excitement at
our field trip, had passed out. He was warm and snug, curled in my
bag. Lucky monkey.

Croygen pointed ahead to a yurt.

“Where are we?” My teeth were already chattering.

“High in the mountains of Mongolia.”

Ryker’s forehead furrowed, but he put his hand on my
lower back and urged me forward. A tent would at least block some
of the icy wind.

As we got to the entrance of the tent, Croygen’s
voice wafted over to us in a taunting jibe. “Good luck. I’m going
to stay out here for a bit.”

Ryker ignored him but took a deep breath.

“Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out.” I looked at
him. “Together.” He nodded; his lips were compressed into a thin
line. Then we walked through the canvas flap.

It was dark, lit only by a fire in the middle of the
room and decorated simply with two cots on one side layered with
furs and blankets. The other side held a table with maps and stacks
of books. Four chairs, also adorned with soft pelts, circled the
firebox.

There were no herbs hanging or concoctions boiling in
a cauldron as I’d imagined. Okay, maybe my idea of a shaman’s place
was skewed from TV, but this seemed too minimal for even a hermit
to live in.

“Ryker?” A woman’s accented voice broke through the
dimness. Our heads jerked in unison to the dark figure in the
corner. A tall but thin silhouette emerged from of the shadows. A
gasp tore from my lips.

Ryker stiffened next to me. There was a pause before
he muttered, “Amara?”

Amara?

Here?

Her waist-length plum hair sparkled under the
firelight as she ran for the man next to me. Her small face and
perfect lips were set in utter joy. She jumped into his arms, her
mouth crashing against his, kissing him with a passion of two
lovers who had been separated.

Ryker didn’t counter with the same zeal, but it
didn’t matter, he
did
respond. And seeing them together was
like stepping into a frozen lake. Ice poured down my spine, waking
me out of a dream. They looked ideal together. She was exquisite
with her long elegant nose, perfectly symmetric face, dark eyes,
and olive skin. She was clad in black military-style pants. She
wore brown ankle boots and a long army green winter parka lined
with brown faux fur. She was taller than me but small boned, and
possessed the regal posture you only see in women who know they are
stunningly beautiful. Amara’s beauty would be celebrated,
remembered in history.

The only blemish to her magnificence was a huge
bruise near her eye and cheek and scabbed cuts over her face. She
had been beaten.

Ryker pushed her back from his lips, his mouth still
ajar. “Amara, what are you doing here? How did you get away?”

She glanced over me; from the top of my head to my
shoes, she took me in. A frown creased her forehead. Her accented
voice sounded snobby when she spoke. “This is the human Croygen
told me about?” Her nose crinkled, as though I smelled bad.

My shoulders naturally went back in defensive pride.
“My name is Zoey.”

“Zoey.” She repeated it like she’d said a bad word.
Her eyes caught at my hair. “Why is this human
trying
to
look like me?”

I clenched a fist and felt my legs tense as though to
spring at her. My inclination when insulted was still to fight. It
had taken years for me to get this in check. Now with one look, one
word, I was ready to throw her down.

Ryker brushed past her questions and continued. “Tell
me how and why you are here.”

“It’s a long story. We can talk of those things
later. I have missed you.” Her voice was deep and still inflected
by her Romanian accent. She stood on her toes, kissing him again.
This time he did not kiss her back. His eyes darted to me then
away.

I felt another stab, directly into my heart.

“No. Now, Amara.” Ryker cupped her shoulders and
pressed her back down on her heels.

She frowned but nodded. “Fine, but let us have a
drink first.” She motioned to the fur-lined chairs around the
fireplace and the kettle cooking on top of a metal box. The steam
from the pot found its way to my nose, the smell of herbal tea
seeped in.

“Mara!” Ryker exclaimed. “What is going on? How did
you get free? Where is the shaman?”

She walked over to a boiling tea kettle; it hissed
angrily. She grabbed a mitt before picking it up and pouring out
two
cups. The slight was not lost on me. I was human. She
would not acknowledge me.

“There was no shaman,” she finally replied as she
added a splash of milk to both cups.