The Witch's Dream - A Love Letter to Paranormal Romance (Black Swan 2) (26 page)

"That is
so
precious! You're acting out because I abandoned you, aren't you?" He smirked. "Well, you need to stay long enough for us to get past the juvenile snits." He crossed his muscular arms in front of his muscular chest and considered that. "A year."

"A day."

"A season."

"Till Beltane."

"Done."

"Doesn't really matter. I could stretch time and pack a year into a week."

"That's cheating."

He laughed. "What did you expect? Dad's a demon."

"I heard that was just bad press."

"Clever girl. And rightly said because public sentiment could have gone either way. It's a P.R. matter that we've never cared to correct because it's more trouble than it's worth. 'Cause really. Why should we care what Terr... humans think of us?" Then, as if he was enjoying a private joke, he laughed. "But wait until you find out how far the Nephilim will go to get
their
way."

"Angels?"

"They prefer we use their own language to describe them. But why should we care what they prefer? By and large, what have they ever done for us? I say fuck 'em. Angels it is!"

"Do you think you would know if you were mentally disturbed?"

"Have some respect. I'm your father."

She ignored that. "Have you hurt the woman?"

"Certainly not." He sounded offended. "My beef is not with her. She's a tool."

"I assume you mean that in the conventional way? Not in the slang sense?" He looked blank. "Never mind. If I stay with you, your, um,
beef
will be considered satisfied." After thinking better of it, she appended the demand. "That means the debt will be voided by you."

"No new conditions. The deal is already struck."

"I'm half demon. I don't have to keep my word, do I?"

Deliverance threw his head back and laughed with his whole essence. It was mesmerizing. "You learn fast."

"Well?"

"Very well. My revenge against the lover will be satisfied if you voluntarily stay until midnight, Beltane Eve."

"And how can I be sure I can trust you to honor your agreement?
Dad
."

"If we make a pact of fire, it can't be undone without dire consequences to the breaching party."

"Dire consequences, huh?"

"Yes." He looked sincere, but she suspected that sex demons were especially good at looking sincere.

"Leaving that alone for now, what's a pact of fire?"

"Generate fire in your hand. I'll do the same and we'll clasp hands."

"I don't know how to do that."

"It's just like shaking hands. I put mine out..."

"No! I don't know how to make fire!" He grinned at her. "You're being deliberately obtuse, aren't you?" She didn't know herself if that was rhetorical.

"Maybe. You really don't know how to gather fire?"

"I did it once - recently - and it was an accident."

"Hmmm. I guess you're wanting me to release her soon?"

"Yes. Naturally."

"Well, you need to make fire so we can conclude this transaction. Let me see you try."

Litha held up her right hand, stared at it, and imagined fire. Nothing.

Deliverance walked over to Katrina and pinched her on the upper arm until she wailed. "How about now?"

"What the hell?"

"Exactly. Do it." He pinched Katrina again harder. She screamed and Litha could tell it really hurt. It made her so mad both hands burst into flame. Deliverance grabbed one of her hands with his and said, "Congratulations. You just sealed the deal." He made an air whistle sound and the fire went out. "You're now the proud owner of one damsel in distress."

"You know I was just starting to think I might learn to like you. But you really
are
evil, aren't you?"

He scrunched his face up like he was thinking about it then sort of wiggled his head back and forth. The aggravating thing was that she recognized that stupid head wiggle. She did that! And not even scrunching his face made him unattractive. That was super annoying.

"Not really," he said while he was pulling on a shirt and tying his hair back at the nape of his neck. "I'll just drop her off where I found her and be right back."

"Hold on a minute. I need to send a message with her." Litha knelt down in front of Katrina, who was rubbing her arm and looking more frightened than she had when Litha first arrived. "Katrina, he's not going to hurt you anymore." She turned and gave the demon a look that promised retaliation if he made a liar out of her. Then turning back to Katrina she used a tone she hoped would calm her. "You're going back and I'm going to stay here in your place. I need you to give Storm a message. Can you remember for me? It’s important."

Katrina nodded, glancing at Deliverance and looking wary about going anywhere with him.

"Tell Storm that he's not interested in a relationship with anybody but me and that not even demons can keep me away forever." She smiled. "I don't know if that will please him or scare him, but tell him anyway."

Katrina nodded again. "Thank you."

Litha stood up and turned to Deliverance. "I'm starved. Get me a hamburger on the way back, okay? Well done with everything including onions. No ketchup."

"A hamburger from London? I don't eat food and even
I
know that's a terrible idea."

***

CHAPTER 15

"And take Heaven with you."

"What? Why?" Baka scowled at Director Tvelgar.

"Simon says," Elora quipped.

Baka turned toward his former crush with a dry tone. "Unforgivably amusing, Mrs. Hawking."

"Why thank you, Fang."

"Great Heavenly Days! Does Nemamiah have to put up with this all the time? This isn't a playground for aliens and ex-vampires to squabble like siblings."

B Team and friends had been in Edinburgh for just a short time, but apparently, it didn't take long for them to convert an unflappably calm and composed administrator into an irritable man with semi-paranoid feelings of losing control.

Ram joined the conversation without looking up from something he was doing with his intelliphone. "Pay no mind. They talk to each other like that, but in the wash, 'tis harmless."

"You think so?" Raising her eyebrows, Elora turned on Ram with a challenging tone.

"As I was saying, Ms. McBride needs field experience and I think this would be a great opportunity. Take her with you. It's just one werewolf. So far as we know now. Should be a walk in the park for half of B Team and Istvan Baka."

"If
she
goes, the experience will be neither great nor heavenly, I assure you." Baka wasn’t giving up the protest until he was sure beyond any reasonable doubt that he wouldn't have his way.

With a thoughtful expression Ram looked up from his phone. "As you've said correctly, Simon, 'tis just one meager werewolf - so far as we know. So 'tis really no' a good reason to involve the women at all. Why no' just have the vampire...?"

"...EX vampire," Baka corrected.
"...aye, the ex-vampire and I go on along and take care of the beast ourselves?"

Elora gaped at Ram. "You really don't give up, do you!" Ram shrugged without the slightest repentance or willingness to give ground. "Look here, elf." Elora grabbed Ram's face in both hands. "If you're going, I'm going." And she laid a kiss on his very inviting, death-by-sex mouth that drifted across generally acceptable boundaries for public displays of affection in Scotia and most other places in the world.

Simon flopped into an overstuffed chair in a very un-Director-like way and looked toward the window like he was searching for a source to garner patience. "Anyone like a graphic demonstration as to why there's a no-office-romance policy?"

Reluctantly, Elora pulled away from her mate and turned to Simon. "I'm sorry. That was so uncalled for. Can we chalk it up to pregnancy hormones? And I
will
try to behave better, I promise."

Ram, for one, was hoping the resolution for better behavior never gelled. Elora had spent her first twenty-three years living an extremely repressed, highly public role as a Briton royal in her own world. Once she'd had a taste of personal freedom, she wholeheartedly embraced the concept and Ram had done all possible to encourage her adventurous, lusty side.

"But," she said more seriously, "do not conspire with my husband to keep me from him."

Simon wondered if that was a threat and decided not to ask. He simply sighed and looked at Ram. "I sympathize with your conflict and your predicament, but B Team is already limping. The Lady Laiken goes."

Ram swung away from Elora and muttered some mild curses.

Simon turned to Baka. "If you feel that strongly about taking Heaven, you can go as three."

Baka gave Simon one of his half nod, half bow gestures. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Simon said with a hint of wry. "Plane leaves in three hours. As you know, Litha was working on this, but her talent as tracker was wasted because all the reports of sightings were close to London Bridge within three blocks of Magnus the Martyr's Church of Angland."

Ram turned to Baka. "Either relent regardin’ your assistant or get us a map." Baka reached for his intelliphone. "No. We need a real, old-fashioned map, big enough for the three of us to look at together." To Simon, Ram said: "I want to see those reports. And have you made arrangements for us to stay over?" Simon nodded and began speaking instructions into his own phone.

Ram turned all the way around to find Elora standing behind him. "And might you be available to throw a couple things in a duffel? In case we're delayed past midnight?" He started out fully intending to dole out her assignment objectively, but as he spoke, he moved closer and closer like he was being pulled by an invisible force until the last few words were nuzzled next to her ear, giving her both shivers and giggles.

Ram heard a noise of exasperation behind him and turned his head. "Sorry, Director. But we
are
on our honeymoon you know." Elora got a smile full of promise.

"On my way." She eased around him, brushing past his body with just enough contact to let him know she would be collecting on that promise later.

Ram, Elora, and Baka arrived at the private planes terminal at London City Airport which was not nearly so far out as Heathrow or Gatwick. They readily agreed that Ram should drive since he was at home on the left-hand side of the road and didn't have to conscientiously think about how to use a right-handed gear shift.

Not wanting to call attention to themselves, they had dressed in the sort of urban casual, pedestrian clothes you would expect to see in that neighborhood and picked a Vauxhall four-door sedan out of The Order's fleet. Elora took one look at it and said, "Baka can ride in back," which was an understated way of calling 'shotgun'.

When they were close to target area, they left the car in a pay-to-park lot and started off on foot. The plan was to find a pub and have dinner while waiting for darkness to settle in. They knew the werewolf wouldn't show itself until full-on night.

"I love pub food. It's my favorite."

Ram snorted. "'Tis what you say about
all
food these days."

"That is
so
not true and
so
snarky of you to say. Ugh! I wish
you
were the one who was pregnant."

"Sorry." His eyes twinkled as he reached out and put one arm around her while rubbing her yet-to-be-round tummy gently with his other hand.

"I like it, too," said Baka.

Ram looked at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"Pub food. Shepherd's Pie, ploughman sandwiches, goat cheese quesadillas."

Elora laughed at him. "Goat cheese quesadillas are not pub food."

"Then why do they have it on the menus so often?"

"Because they're not pub purists?"

"Pub purists. Okaaaaay."

"You know," Ram said, "Simon is right. The pair of you do no' bring out the best in each other."

They spent the rest of sunset in relaxed conversation - more or less. Elora did make the point that it was surprising to have a werewolf problem in the middle of a big city. Everyone knew that werewolves preferred areas with lots of open space. They usually gave big cities a wide berth for the same reason feral wolves do.

When it looked dark as could be expected on a quarter moon night in one of the world's largest artificially lit cities, they took one more look over their map, reviewed the plan, and headed out on a mission of the 'simple' sanction, to use Simon's word, of one 'meager' werewolf, to use Ram's word.

Ram was wearing button down jeans, a heavy metal tee shirt and a nondescript, tan trench coat outfitted as an arsenal. Elora wore a skirt with flat-heeled ankle boots and a leather jacket. She didn't carry much in the way of weaponry, but she didn't need to.