- Home
- T. A. White
Dawn's Envoy Page 3
Dawn's Envoy Read online
Page 3
Just like that, the whirlwind feelings his presence had caused disappeared, leaving me consumed with need.
A moan filled the air, I wasn’t sure it if was his or mine. Our bodies pressed together as if we were trying to climb inside the other.
His hands were on my back even as mine fisted in his hair. With a little hop I jumped up, his hands going to my ass to support me as I wrapped my legs around his waist.
Our bodies became a tangle of limbs as each second pushed us higher. My skin felt flushed with need.
I panted as he broke the kiss to rain small pecks down my neck and shoulder. I tried to grab hold of a thin thread of logic, but his lips covered mine again.
Several minutes passed where only the small breathless sounds we made could be heard.
He was fire and fury against me. I was the push and pull of the ocean against him. Tangling and dueling, each of us exalting in the battle of desire.
A crash in my bedroom brought me back to the present. Reason cascaded down on me like ice cold water, reminding me of why this, me and him, was a horrible idea.
He’d left without a word of warning. Just picked up his things one day and was gone, like a ghost. There wasn’t one word of goodbye.
He didn’t owe me anything. We hadn’t embarked on a relationship. I knew that. Still, I thought we’d been heading down a certain path. To have him up and disappear like that had brought the cold grip of reality back.
Liam was vampire. Not just clan, but an enforcer for their council. His agenda was not mine. I couldn’t trust him or his reasons for taking an interest in me.
For that, I was grateful he’d left the way he did. It reminded me of the facts of life, before I got too invested.
I lifted my head and stared down at him, noting the otherworldly glow, the slightly unfocused eyes, the softened expression. The sight made me waver in my decision. He looked at me with the single-minded focus and intensity of a man who hadn’t had a drink in a year, and I was a cool glass of water taken from a mountain spring.
I pushed away, my body suddenly stiff as I unhooked my legs.
He was slow to let me go, his expression fierce and watchful.
His hands lingered as he helped me down. I stepped back, avoiding his gaze. I turned and saw the bike he’d somehow unlatched from the harness without me even noticing. It lay half on the couch.
I headed to it, lifting it up and wheeling it over to the bike rack I kept near the front door.
“So, you’re back,” I said in as steady a voice as I could.I’d said it before, but it was worth repeating, as I busied myself with getting the bike situated on the rack.
He watched me, his expression closed off, the passion of moments before gone. “Yes, my business finally wrapped up.”
“That’s good,” I said. I was grateful he was willing to gloss over what just happened, but it still galled me that it seemed so easy for him.
“I thought we’d made progress,” he finally said.
I could feel the weight of his stare on my bent head.
“I’m still attending my weekly lessons,” I responded, choosing to misunderstand.
Frustration flickered on his face. “I know. Nathan’s kept me informed of your progress. That’s not what I meant.”
Ah, so someone in vamp headquarters had been able to keep in touch with him. Good to know.
He stared at me for a long minute. I kept my head down, intent on fiddling with the bike as I fought to keep my face bland, every emotion that might give away my turmoil carefully hidden. The fluttering in my belly and slightly unsteady feeling didn’t make it easy.
I didn’t know what he expected of me, but I was determined not to give it to him.
His sigh was long and angry. He rubbed one hand through his hair before he nodded and straightened.
His mouth tightened and he drew himself upright, his face settling into authoritative lines. “Why are you back here?”
I stood up. “This is my home. It’s normal to live in the place you call home.”
He arched one eyebrow, turning his attention to the still open door, his message clear.
I shrugged in answer. The lack of stairs was a nuisance, but I hadn’t let that stop me.
“I know Thomas offered you a place in the mansion until the renovations of this building were complete,” he said.
That was true, and I’d even taken him up on it for the first month. Very mature of me I know. However, once I learned the extent of the renovations and calculated just how long I would be away from my apartment, I decided to rethink that plan. You see, Thomas had so many things he planned to do to this place, and my apartment in particular, I would have been out of my home for a year or more.
Liam would know that. Or he should. He was more versed in Thomas’ shenanigans than I was.
“It was taking too long.” There, that was diplomatic enough.
He was quiet, his gaze thoughtful as he looked over my apartment. I struggled not to feel defensive over what he might see. My home wasn’t filled with name brand stuff. It was mostly things I’d gotten at yard sales or hand-me-downs my family had grown tired of. As a result, it was a mishmash of a dozen different styles. Despite that, it suited me. The rooms felt lived in, like they’d seen endless amounts of joy, pain and sorrow.
I was very aware after staying in the mansion, that it looked a little threadbare and worn, in no way comparing to the magazine quality rooms there. Still, it was mine. My first home post-military, and something I’d created through my own hard work.
He seemed to come to a decision, his gaze piercing as it shifted to me. “Be at this address tomorrow night,” he said, pressing on the screen of his phone.
From my backpack, my phone chimed with a text. I made no move to pick it up or look at it.
I stiffened, some of my natural antagonism at being ordered around rearing its head. With effort, I forced it back down.
This man had a habit of getting under my skin. He could do more with a simple shift of expression than most could with carefully crafted barbs. The only other people capable of inspiring such reactions in me were my family.
In my head, I knew I should be an adult. Mature. Act my age. Not let him see how he got to me.
What came out was. “Nope. I have work.”
“Call off.”
“Can’t.” I didn’t bother explaining my money issues or the fact rent was due in five days. I needed every hour of work I could get. Even if that hadn’t been the case, I probably still would have refused. Half of it was due to my genuine hurt over his disappearance. The rest was just the primal need to battle it out until I came out the victor.
“I’ll pay you triple what you would make there,” he said with forced patience.
That wasn’t the incentive it should be. I made an idiotically low wage for a night’s worth of work.
“It’s not about the money,” I told him.
I needed this job. Yes, I could call off. Josie did it all the time. I would probably keep my job, but the risk wasn’t worth it. A higher paycheck tomorrow night might be nice, but what about in a week or a month? I needed steady paying work, not to dance at some vampire’s whim.
“You’ll be there,” he said, his expression smug.
“That’s an arrogant assumption.”
He sauntered closer, stopping with the barest of space between us, forcing me to look up to see his face. I wasn’t a short woman, just over average height at five feet seven inches, but Liam made me feel petite.
He leaned down, cheek sliding against mine as he whispered into my ear. “You owe me.”
His message delivered, he straightened and gave me another lazy smile, one that widened as he caught my fulminating look. “An hour after sundown. I expect you won’t be late.”
I didn’t answer as he slid past me, too busy glaring at the wall. His exit was silent.
Sneaky vampires and their stupid games.
I’d be there, whether I wanted to be or not. Because
he was right. I did owe him. Ten nights to be exact.
Guess he was calling in the first of those.
I stalked over to the door and slammed it shut, turning the locks and hooking the chain into place. Not that it would do much good, considering he’d already gotten past a locked door once tonight, but it made me feel better.
Turning back to the room, I was brought up short at the sight of my two roommates perched on the edge of the kitchen countertop, tiny feet swinging as they watched me. Inara and Lowen were pixies and had settled in the apartment despite every attempt to force them out. They’d ignored my repeated protests. I’d grown used to them now.
Each no bigger than my hand, their wings fanned behind them in a bright display. More beautiful than any butterfly wing, they were as distinctive as the pixies themselves.
Inara tended to be the bolder of the two. A pixie queen, she could be mercurial and autocratic, but I’d seen moments of softness, especially when she addressed her consort, Lowen.
Her wings were an iridescent green and yellow, the pattern unlike anything I’d ever seen in nature. When they moved, it was like watching tree leaves rustling in the wind.
Her skin had a slight greenish tinge to it, and her eyes were overly large in her face. People often equated pixies to bugs because of those eyes, but I’d always likened them closer to a doll. In miniature, her features were delicate and fierce.
Lowen, on the other hand, was often the calming voice of reason, advocating restraint where Inara would leap into battle without considering the consequences. He could be just as fierce as she, but it took more to get him to that point.
I’d learned just how deadly he could be when a family of brownies had tried to move in. He’d dispatched them with a skill and precision that would be chilling in a creature any bigger than he was.
Where Inara was clad in the shades of the forest, Lowen more closely resembled a field of flowers. His skin was burnished copper and his wings the most vivid blues and purples I’d ever seen.
“That crash was very well timed,” I told them.
It was as close as I could get to saying thank you. It was never wise to thank the Fae outright. They could use it as a way to enslave you, calling in debts likely to mean the end of you.
“That vampire has an agenda,” Inara said. She didn’t wait for my response, leaping off the counter and fluttering back down the hall.
I sighed. I couldn’t argue with that.
“What are you going to do?” Lowen asked.
“There’s not much I can do. I owe him ten nights. If he’s calling in one of those nights, I have no choice but to answer.” It didn’t make me happy to admit that.
You would think after the first time someone called in one of the debts I owed, I would stop handing them out like candy. Not the case. I had more debts floating out there than I liked to think about, including to my two permanent house guests.
Lowen lifted into the air, his wings a purple-blue streak behind him. “Sun’s coming up. You should get ready for bed.”
He flitted off, leaving me standing in my living room, first light already making its way across the sky.
*
Opening my door to head out, and hearing a startled mrph as a stranger teetered on the thin ledge next to it was not my ideal way to start off my night.
My hand snapped out, grabbing a well-muscled arm, before the person could fall the ten feet down. It was awkward, trying to keep from being pulled out of my apartment as I juggled the person and my bike in the opposite hands.
Somehow, I managed to pull my visitor inside with me. He sprawled at my feet, his eyes slightly wide as residual adrenaline kicked in.
There was a riot of golden hair around his face as he remained on all fours, breathing heavily at the close call.
Inara and Lowen flitted near, landing on a pair of shelves near the entry way. We all stared down at the unexpected visitor.
“A sphinx,” Inara said. “What is one doing at your door?”
I shook my head. I had no clue.
I’d only ever met one sphinx, and that was a brief encounter.
I gave the man at my feet another moment to compose himself, waiting until he looked up. His bright green eyes were lined by thick, dark eyelashes. The golden hair on his head was the biggest clue to his species.
He was young, not more than twenty, his face lean and narrow. The last sphinx I’d encountered had pointed ears—this guy’s were as rounded and human as mine.
He gave me a strained smile. “Hello.”
I arched an eyebrow and gave him a look, one that said he’d have to do a lot better than that.
“What were you doing there?” I asked.
“Ah, well,” he said, climbing to his feet and brushing off his pants. He seemed uncomfortable, glancing around with furtive glances.
“Speak, sphinx,” Inara ordered, her voice every inch a queen’s. “We don’t have time to waste.”
Lowen buzzed toward the sphinx, veering close enough that the man shied back from the razor-sharp thorn he held in his hand like a sword.
“I heard this was where the clanless vampire lived,” the man stuttered.
That caused me to straighten. My home’s location was no great secret. Both the vampires and the wolves seemed to feel they had an open invitation, but I hadn’t realized it was common knowledge to the rest of Columbus.
I didn’t like the thought of every spook out there knowing where I lived.
Inara and I shared a glance, our thoughts mirroring each other’s.
“And you thought you’d earn a name for yourself?” Lowen snarled.
The sphinx flinched back, the smaller pixie intimidating even me. Lowen’s face now appeared murderous and cold. He might be small but right then it didn’t seem to matter.
“No, I need help. The harpies said the vampire was my best chance,” he said quickly.
Harpies? That was interesting. I shook my head before Lowen could do something drastic—like stab the sphinx.
“Which harpy specifically?” I asked. I had several contacts among the harpies. To my knowledge none of them hated me enough to set assassins on me.
The sphinx didn’t look like an assassin, but you never knew. He seemed harmless, maybe just a bit desperate. Could be a ruse designed to lure me off my guard. Appearances were often used to deceive. I knew that better than most
“Natalia,” he blurted out.
I’d done her a favor a couple weeks ago involving a kobold, so his story was plausible. I doubted she would be quick to set an assassin on me. I could picture her sending someone in a similar predicament my way, especially if she knew him.
“What’s your relation to her?” I asked.
“Her mom used to babysit me,” he said. It seemed to occur to him how tenuous his position was and his expression turned uncertain, fear and uneasiness filling his face.
I wasn’t used to inspiring those emotions in others, and I wasn’t sure if I liked seeing them now.
I fought the urge to put him at ease. There had been more than one attempt on my life in the last month. I couldn’t afford to be careless.
“And why did she point you to me?” I asked.
I folded my arms across my chest, my right hand dipping down to brush the weight of the gun in its holster under my light jacket. If Liam was intent on dragging me into whatever was going on, I wasn’t going unarmed. Physically and magically I was weaker than most, even this sphinx in front of me, but I’d found a gun helped level the playing field very nicely. It was filled with ammo of my own recipe—one that incorporated silver nitrate—lethal to vampires and werewolves, along with several other creatures.
His expression grew uncomfortable as his eyes flitted to my two roommates. “I don’t suppose we could have this conversation in private.”
“No.” My response was flat and brooked no argument.
He jerked and looked at the two again. It was clear he wasn’t comfortable speaking in front of them. Too
bad for him. I had no intention of kicking them out or going off alone with this guy. Not when we’d caught him skulking around. He could just suffer or get out.
“You have one minute to start talking before I carry on with the rest of my night,” I said, not bothering to check my watch.
The threat was enough. The guy stood, shifting from foot to foot as he took in the three of us. “I was given the honorable task of protecting an item.”
That made sense. Sphinxes were often considered guardians and protectors in many myths. From what I’d heard, they tended to either make a name for themselves in places of learning, became excellent puzzle crafters, or took on the duty of protecting items of great worth.
“I think it was stolen yesterday,” he confessed, looking slightly ashamed.
“You think?” I asked.
“What kind of sphinx lets their treasure be stolen?” Inara scoffed.
I sent her a quelling gaze.
“It’s not like I spend all day watching it,” the sphinx defended. “I have a life, you know.”
“I bet whoever it was cracked his riddles and puzzles,” Lowen snickered.
The sphinx rolled his eyes, the pair’s mockery returning some of his confidence. “Please. That’s so ancient history. We now use vaults and state of the art technology coupled with the most advanced magic. I’ve never had anything given into my protection stolen.”
“Until now,” I observed in a dry voice.
The words seemed to have an impact and his shoulders rounded as he winced. “Yes, well, I’m hoping you can help me with that.”
I stared at him, nonplused. “And how exactly am I supposed to do that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Do what you did for Natalia?”
My eyes got wider and I’m sure my expression looked as startled and discombobulated as I felt.
I couldn’t do what I did for Natalia. For her, I’d simply had a conversation with the kobold to understand what he really wanted before finding him a new, willing home owner for him to practice his household magic on. I doubted this would be so simple. It sounded way beyond anything I could ever do.
“This sounds like a matter for the police,” I observed.
He shook his head. “No normals. The item is a scroll that can’t fall into their hands or be brought to their attention.”