The Journal Keeper (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (2 page)

BOOK: The Journal Keeper (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
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But first, Dorin and Nikolas had to find their third.

Dorin hoped that was why Morna had asked to speak with the both of them. The witch was one of the oldest creatures in Laurasia and Gondwanaland combined. Tall and willow-like, she had indistinct purple eyes that seemed to see everything and nothing at the same time. Her white hair curled out of control around her face and down her arms, giving her a decidedly wild look. Still, she was a woman who demanded respect.

“Dorin. Nikolas.” Morna cried, coming forward to hug them both.

Dorin leaned down to place a kiss on her weathered cheek and tried to hide his grin when Nikolas uncomfortably patted her back.

“I have wonderful news.” Morna beamed, stepping back.

“What news, Morna?” Dorin asked.

“I have located Merlin’s journal.”

Silence greeted her claim while she stood there, smiling brilliantly.

“Merlin’s journal? You’ve located
Merlin’s journal?” Silal questioned doubtfully.

“Yes. And you’ll never guess where,” Morna sang, sounding extremely childlike despite her advanced age.

“Where?” Dorin asked.

“America.”

“America? As in the human realm?” Dorin frowned.

“Yes. Though more specifically, it’s located in the United States of America. Can you believe they won their independence from Britain? Last I heard they were just a bunch of colonies. We really should send scouts across the portals more often.”

“You know why we cannot, Morna,” Silal groaned, rubbing his hand over his face.

“Oh, I know. We spend too much time in the mortal world and we begin to die. Awful stuff, dying,” Morna shuddered.

“How are we supposed to get the journal if all our scouts are still recovering from their last trip?” Visess asked.

“The prince will go, of course,” Morna answered gaily.

Nikolas growled from beside Dorin, moving to put himself between the wolf and the witch.

“Oh, do stop growling, Nikolas. He’ll be fine. I’ve seen it,” Morna waved him off.

“You can’t expect us to send our only son and heir to the throne into the mortal world. He’s never traveled the portals,” Silal shouted, rising to his feet in anger.

“Really, Your Majesty, there is no need to shout. Besides, how else do you expect him to find his mate?” Morna tsked.

“Darling,” Visess murmured, placing a hand on her mate’s arm.

The king resumed his seat, taking his wife’s hand in his.

“I will accompany the prince in his quest for his mate and the journal,” Nikolas said, stepping forward.

“Our mate,” Dorin snapped, gripping the polar’s arm.

“That is still to be decided,” Nikolas said, shrugging Dorin’s hand off.

“Oh, no. The two of you will share a mate. The bond is already formed. To break it now could be disastrous for all involved. Your mate will need protection that only the two of you can provide, especially since she is currently in possession of the journal,” Morna told them gaily.

“Our third is in the human realm?” Dorin asked.

“Yes. Now, you must find your mate and the journal before they manage to crack Merlin’s language or all the Hunters in the realm will be able to find us,” Morna warned.

“We’ll leave tonight,” Nikolas decided, sounding every inch the fearsome warrior he was.

As Dorin and Nikolas left the throne room to prepare for the journey to the human realm, Dorin couldn’t fight his anticipation of finally meeting the one woman meant for the two of them.

 

* * * *

 

Locking the door behind her, Rianne sighed in relief at finally being able to go home after working three days straight. Her neck and shoulders ached from spending hours poring over countless texts, searching for just the right combination.

“Heading out, Dr. Winthrop?” Cull asked from his office as she passed by.

Dr. William Cull was the leading researcher in their latest project and the founder of Cull Industries. He taught linguistics and ancient history at multiple high-profile schools, going wherever the research led him. He was fit for his fifty-six years of age, their line of work often requiring weeks spent in remote locations with little luxuries. His brown hair was just starting to show signs of gray around his temples and his brown eyes squinted behind his signature glasses, which sat perched upon a straight nose. Overall, he was an average-looking man with a kind smile and welcoming laugh.

“All right, Winthrop?” Cull asked, looking up from the paperwork on his desk.

“Yes, sir. I just locked up the preservation room. Do you need me tomorrow?” Rianne asked, leaning against the doorjamb.

“No, I think we’ll manage. You need some sleep and the newbies need some experience,” Cull smiled wryly.

“Just don’t let them touch that new text,” Rianne teased.

“That one is all yours, as I promised,” Cull agreed absently, already returning to his paperwork.

“I’ll see you Thursday, then,” Rianne said, backing from the room.

“Get some sleep, Rianne,” Cull called as she walked away.

“Will do,” Rianne answered, elbowing her way into the staircase.

She passed some of the newbies, Dr. Cull’s student researchers, on their way up to begin their day. One of them, Missy, flashed Rianne a smile as she bounced past, her ponytail swinging behind her. She was one of Rianne’s favorites, being the only one who was willing to stay late and get her work done instead of going to various parties at the closest frat house.

Arriving at her car, she tossed her bag into the backseat. It was full of notes taken over the past three days and she wanted a chance to look over them before returning to work. The old Chevy had served her well all through college and graduate school, as she went for her masters and then her doctorate. At twenty-eight, she was only a year out of school, but Dr. Cull had hired her almost immediately after learning her field of interest was in classical linguistics. There were a very limited number of graduates who were willing to go digging through tomes of texts, looking for new volumes.

Just last month, one of Dr. Cull’s archaeologists had dug up a large text with an unknown language. Dr. Cull had handed Rianne the responsibility of uncovering the text’s origins and seeing if she could crack the language. So far, she hadn’t made much headway, but she could feel herself getting closer.

Her one-bedroom apartment was just five miles from Cull Industries, making the commute relatively short, or at least it would anywhere else. Rianne hated living in the overly crowded city of Washington, DC, having grown up in a small town in Illinois. The constant stop-and-go of traffic nearly drove her crazy most days, but she refused to ride the bus and walking was definitely not an option. She’d grown up hearing horror stories of what happened to women who ventured out alone on the streets of the big cities. So she muddled through, always varying her drive time to make sure she wasn’t caught in morning or afternoon traffic. On a good day, she could make it home in half an hour to forty-five minutes.

Pulling into her parking spot at the apartment complex, she eagerly anticipated falling onto her bed and sleeping for the next twelve to thirteen hours. Loud bass could be heard as soon as she entered the building, not uncommon considering most of the tenants attended college at Georgetown, just a few blocks away. Rianne’s apartment was on the fifth floor of the nine story building, having been renovated from a warehouse in the 1960s. Her floor-mate, Lynda Byrd, was kissing her new john good-bye as Rianne went past. Lynda gave her a wink over his shoulder, no doubt a promise to come over and share details later. Lynda had decided Rianne wanted to live vicariously through her since Rianne had no sex life to speak of. A twenty-eight-year-old virgin was unheard of, and Lynda was adamant about fixing the problem.

Rianne shouldered her door open, sighing in relief at finally being home. The apartment was small, sparsely furnished, and clean. Perfect for her since she rarely spent any of her time within its walls. All the furniture was bought at a secondhand store or had been handed down to her by friends and relatives. She dropped her bag into one of the kitchen chairs on her way to the bed, not caring if the contents spilled out.

As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was out.

 

* * * *

 

They had been tracking the journal for three days and being away from Laurasia was starting to take its toll. Nikolas was starting to feel weaker and knew Dorin was feeling the same from the way the wolf struggled to stay awake. Nikolas didn’t think they would be able to stay in this world for much longer, not that he minded. The human world was a disgusting place full of uncivilized people and strange new devices. Nikolas hated the contraption they called the “car.” It went too fast and was too loud. He much preferred travelling on his own four legs.

Nikolas looked up when he heard someone come out of Cull Industries, where they’d tracked the journal. He and Dorin were seated across the street at a small outdoor café, giving them the perfect view of the main entrance. A group of fresh-faced young ones had walked into the building a few minutes ago, but this was the first person they had seen leaving.

The woman was a tiny thing. Even from this distance, it was easy to tell she wouldn’t have come but about midway up his chest. He didn’t doubt he would be able to lift her with one hand from the looks of her. Her brown hair was pulled back high on her head and fell down between her shoulders. A breeze blew her scent directly to him, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up as well as his cock.

Mine.

The soft growl coming from his friend’s throat let him know Dorin was feeling the same thing he was.

Our mate.

They watched as she got into her car and headed south.

“Come on,” Dorin growled, moving to follow her.

“Wait,” Nikolas insisted, grabbing hold of his shirt and pulling him back.

“We can’t wait, we’ll lose her,” Dorin hissed.

“We’ll find her again. We’ve got her scent, and we know which direction she’s headed. We need to get the journal,” Nikolas reminded him.

Dorin growled at being denied, but didn’t move to follow their woman. He returned to his seat, continuing to glance in the direction the woman had travelled. Nikolas could feel his control slipping, wanting to follow their mate as well, but he was used to forcing himself into uncomfortable situations as a soldier.

“How much longer do we wait?” Dorin asked, unable to hide his frustration.

Nikolas stared at the building for a few minutes, going over everything they had observed in the past few hours. Morna hadn’t given them much to go on, only that it wouldn’t be hard to retrieve the journal if they made sure to go in at the right time. How they were supposed to know when it was the right time was beyond him.

“What is that ungodly noise?” Dorin grumbled, shaking his head viciously.

“What are you talking about?” Nikolas frowned, unable to hear anything unusual.

“Don’t you hear that ringing?” Dorin whimpered, rubbing at his ears.

Nikolas looked around, but Dorin was the only one affected, with his superior wolf hearing. The humans went about their day as usual.

A scream came from across the street, and Nikolas looked over to find Cull Industries employees rushing into the parking lot. Shouts of “fire” drifted to him, and he realized this was what they’d been waiting for.

“Come on,” Nikolas insisted, jumping to his feet.

Dorin followed him across the busy street. With all the pandemonium in the parking lot, no one noticed when the two slipped into the side entrance. Nikolas blinked against the heavy smoke, bringing his arm up over his mouth to block out the worst of it.

Find the journal, find our mate. Find the journal, find our mate.

With the new mantra ringing in his ears, he took off into the burning building, Dorin right behind him.

 

* * * *

 

Her entire body protested as she rolled over, away from the harsh light streaming through her bedroom window. Three days really was too long to go without sleep. She would have to pace herself as she worked through the new text to make sure she didn’t lose three days’ worth of sleep again. It wasn’t worth it when her body ended up hating her in the end.

The unmistakable sound of voices woke her up fully and she rolled back over, glaring at the wall separating her from the neighboring apartment. Clearly Daniel, her next-door neighbor, required a hearing aid if he needed his TV turned up that loud.

“Good. You are awake.”

Rianne bolted up in bed, finding herself staring into a pair of the palest blue eyes she’d ever seen. Before she could open her mouth to scream, a hand clamped over her lips.

“Do not fear us, little one,” a husky voice urged from behind her.

Struggling to breathe, she fought down the terror working its way through her veins. Two men had broken into her apartment and were in her bedroom. What had they done to her? Why were they here?

“Gods, you’re trembling worse than a newborn foal. Easy,
danalya
,” the man behind her murmured.

Rianne was surprised to find that while her mind was thinking of all the ways these men might be plotting to rape and kill her, her body had no trouble responding to the soothing voice urging her to relax. She was grateful when the hand was removed from her mouth, licking her lips in an attempt to moisten them.

“Who…who are you?” Rianne asked, finding her throat surprisingly dry.

“My name is Nikolas, and the man holding you is Dorin,” the man in front of her answered.

“What do you want with me? I don’t have any cash, but…some of my jewelry is valuable and you can take anything else you want. Just, please, don’t hurt me,” Rianne found herself pleading, terrified of what these men might do.

“We have no desire for your…cash or your jewelry. We came here for you,” Nikolas frowned.

“No, please. I’ll give you whatever you want. Please, don’t rape me,” Rianne begged tearfully, struggling against Dorin’s hold.

Nikolas made a rumbling noise before vaulting from his position at the end of the bed. In a flash, he was hovering over top of her, pinning her arms to the mattress. His white-blond hair fell around her face like a curtain, trapping her within his blue gaze.

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