Lore vs. The Summoning (21 page)

Read Lore vs. The Summoning Online

Authors: Anya Breton

BOOK: Lore vs. The Summoning
11.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

"Your playing arouses...much in me," she said in a sultry whisper.

A shiver ran down my spine. I attempted to tactfully extract myself from her. She let me go with a small pout that would have looked childish on anyone else. On her it was delectable. My cheeks seared with embarrassment and my temperature matched. It didn't help that Andy, the gossipy clarinetist, had lagged behind to witness the whole scene.

I managed to form a wan smile despite my very deep state of mortification. "Thank you for coming." I looked to Gray. "I know how much you despise Classical music."

His timber brown eyes were darker than usual. The hard-edged gaze he'd pinned me with wasn't pleasant. Ordinarily Gray would tell me that he enjoyed any music I played even if it lacked any sort of danceable beat. Then we'd get into how this was some of the earliest recorded dance music. But today Gray wasn't so much as opening his mouth.

"Beautiful playing," someone to my left said.

I nodded and murmured thanks.

"How long have you been playing?"

I knew if I answered this without moving that I'd be stuck here answering all manner of tedious questions over and over until I could make an excuse to leave. I needed to make that excuse now.

"I have to go," I told the pair in front of me with a meaningful glance to the man waiting on my left. "I've been playing for fourteen years," I answered politely on my way toward the exit. "Thanks for coming."

Over the red carpet I hurried to the room that held my purse and case. The others had nearly finished breaking their instruments down and cleaning them. Andy had been chatting with the oboe player until he saw me enter. I was tempted to turn around and run for the door when he hopped up and rushed me as fast as the chicken legs the suit was hiding could move him.

"You have been holding out on me, Laura Denham," Andy made several tsking sounds. "When did you switch sides?"

"Sides?" Playing stupid was something I considered myself a pro at.

His volume lowered. "How long have you been a lesbian?"

I supposed I couldn't call him rude. He was openly gay. Perhaps this was appropriate behavior in their circles.

"I'm not a lesbian," I said as quietly as I could manage.

Andy shook his head with a frustrated sigh. "Fine, then how long have you been bi..."

I made a cutting gesture to shut him up. "I don't know that I'm that either."

He laughed a little too raucously. "Then how do you explain a lip lock with that exotic bombshell?"

Cheeks searing I replied, "I can't explain it. She's a friend."

His chin lowered nearly to his chest. He looked up at me from beneath half-hooded eyes. There was a twist to the lips that spoke a second later. "Honey, that didn't look like you're just friends. You two clearly have something."

I concentrated on my flute to avoid seeing him. "Well, when I figure out what's going on, you'll be the first to know."

"Budding illicit romance!" He effused with a hand over his heart that saw in my peripheral vision. "How captivating. We've gotta have coffee together."

Maybe I could turn this to my advantage. "You call your real estate friend and I'll meet you for coffee after I sign on a new apartment."

"You sly one," Andy teased with a tweak of my nose. "It's a deal."

Thankfully he left me to chat with the bassoonist.
 

I sat running the cloth over my flute until everyone had left. And then I sat for longer. I was a coward. I knew that outside that door one of them, probably both of them, would be waiting. Gray would want to know what the hell was going on. Morrígan would try to persuade me to go home with her. I didn't know if I was strong enough to resist her.

I stared at the nondescript white wall in front of me through sightless eyes. My thoughts were on why it was that I wanted to resist Morrígan. I considered myself an open-minded person. I didn't think people loving a member of the same sex were ethically or morally wrong. But I'd never particularly had an interest in being one of them. And yes, I couldn't lie to myself, I was embarrassed by the thought of people thinking I was a lesbian. But that wasn't the bigger issue.
 

The bigger issue was that Morrígan had some sort of hold on me. She held power over me through lust. She could make my brain turn to jelly. She could make me do things that weren't in my nature and that scared the living crap out of me.
 

Perhaps if I'd felt something for her other than lust I might not fear her as I did. There was nothing else. I didn't love her. I didn't think I'd risk my life for her any more than I'd risk it for a stranger, perhaps less because I knew she was capable of taking care of herself. That meant I didn't even count her as a friend as I'd told Andy. What did I count her as?

There was a knock at the door. My head whipped toward it. Fear rushed into my gut with a sudden slam of nausea. I hated that I could face down Rhinos and murderous shapeshifters but I was afraid of a confronting the woman I'd slept with a few days ago.

Gray's voice called out a second later. "Lore? Are you okay?"

"I don't know," I admitted softly. I knew he'd hear it.

"Can we come in?"

I supposed speaking to them in private was better than out there in the corridor where lingering audience could overhear. There were bigger secrets to keep than my confused sexuality. "Okay," I said to the flute in my hand.

The door opened and of course Gray was in the lead. His eyes were crinkled in concern but his mouth was drawn thin in irritation. Morrígan trailed him with a serene expression. I focused on Gray. He was the one I owed most. He, like Aiden, had saved my ass a time or two.

Gray made a beeline for me and surprised me by taking the flute out of my hands, setting it aside and drawing me into the warmth of his arms. When his fingers moved up to my chin I realized what was happening. He was trying to lay a claim to me as Morrígan had.

"Gray," I said in a softly chiding tone while pushing at his chest with the palm of my hand. I didn't need this. He knew where he stood with me. He wasn't supposed to try to change that, not seriously.

The hurt that filled his eyes when he pulled back pained me. I opened my mouth to say something, to take it back, but he'd already turned away with a jerky movement. Morrígan attempted to glide forward to inhabit the space he'd been in.

I held up a single finger at her and wagged it back and forth. "No. Not you either."

My response stilled Gray's retreat but he didn't turn back around. Morrígan's gorgeous frame stiffened.

I knew she deserved some sort of reason so I explained, "Someone is trying to do something that will endanger us all. Until I stop them I can't be distracted by anyone or anything."

"I am a distraction?" She asked with rounded eyes that were equal parts doe-like innocence and barely checked anger. It was a strange mix that had me in thrall until my brain processed what she'd asked.

I couldn't help but laugh, an almost desperate sound. "You are way more than a distraction."

Morrígan shifted her weight onto one hip and moved her right arm just so. The combined effort slid the jacket open. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her bared breast. I stood transfixed, riding the heat that was beginning to coil within me.

"What have you done to me?" I whispered a now familiar question.

Her eyelids hooded her brilliant blue irises. "Nothing you didn't want, dearest," she responded in her huskiest of voices.

Gray's body whipped around. I knew he was watching us but I couldn't tear my eyes away from her to see more than that.

"You will come home with me, Lore," she said in the imperious way that was hers alone.

"Lore? She's calling you Lore now?"

My cheeks flushed at Gray's angry question. He had every right to be upset. Only my oldest friends got to call me Lore. What had I been thinking when I'd given the nickname to her? Oh, right. I hadn't been thinking at all.

I forced my eyes shut and shook myself physically. When they opened again I focused on her face. "No distractions, Morrígan." And that was all that I said before taking my case, the flute and my purse to walk out on them both.

I'd walked three steps from Symphony Hall when a blast of frigid water hit me in the shins. It was powerful enough to knock me over. Unfortunately where I'd landed was still within its path. I rolled over onto my belly then crawled out of the pounding spray.

The first thing I'd thought was,
ouch that hurt like a bitch
. Then I'd lamented yet another outfit being destroyed by water. And finally I'd come up with the thought that this wasn't normal. That was when a second spray hit me in the back.
 

It slammed me onto my stomach. My face dropped into a puddle of dirty sidewalk water. I was slack-jawed when it had happened. A mouthful of disgusting water had me gagging until I could break free of the spray and spit it all up.
 

With athleticism that had to be divine considering I never really worked out, I hopped to my feet out of the powerful jet and whirled around. It was just in time to observe the spray slithering snake-like toward me. That wasn't normal for an uncapped fire hydrant, was it?

Someone had to be manipulating the water. I glanced around for the culprit and saw both Morrígan and Gray standing near the building watching in mute surprise. Neither had made a move to help me until they realized I was looking at them.

I understood Morrígan's reluctance to tangle with water or a Water witch. It was her natural enemy. Gray on the other hand had no excuse. However he was the first to reach me thanks to his enhanced speed. He asked me something that I ignored. I was more interested in finding the witch that was responsible.
 

Contrary to what popular culture would have us believe, it isn't easy to spot a witch. Magic users generally didn't shout latin to get their power to work. And they didn't have to point a magic wand. Nor did they dress a certain way. I had no helpful figure on the sidewalk wearing a pointy hat or a menacing cloak, shaking a staff at me like a fantasy wizard. No, everyone nearby looked entirely normal.
 

More than a few of those normal people were paying attention to me. That was to be expected considering a fire hydrant with a mind of its own was attacking a woman. Anyone who didn't look would be suspect.

I spotted a car parked in the fire lane across the street. There was a blonde-haired man inside staring very intently at me with a finger in front of his face. He looked away when he saw me glance in his direction. That glance away looked guilty and perhaps worried. Instinct had me darting out toward him, vaulting over the gushing water to get there. He peeled into the street where I narrowly missed getting creamed by his beat-up blue Ford Escort.

When I turned to trudge back to the other side of the street in sopping wet clothes Gray stood waiting with my flute in his hand. He seemed to attempt to dry the silver metal with the corner of his suede jacket. He looked up awkwardly as I stepped onto the sidewalk.

"I'm sorry. I just froze...I..." He glanced over at where I knew Morrígan still stood.

I made a dismissive gesture and hoped he'd shut up.

He spoke in a softer voice, "I shouldn't let my anger..."

I interrupted him impatiently. "I can take care of myself."

Apparently he was still angry because his eyes flared at me and his voice grew sharp. "Why you always gotta do that?"

This was another argument we'd had in the past. "This isn't your problem, Gray."

"What if I want to make it my problem, Laura?" Uh oh. He was using my actual name in that impatient, angry voice of his. "You going to get physical with me to stop me?"

"I don't want to fight with you," I said rather than give a straight answer.
 

It could be taken several ways. Just then I wasn't sure which way I meant it. I'd wanted something I could say that would allow me to leave.
 

He didn't move when I walked forward to get the flute from him. And he didn't give my instrument up either. Gray leaned forward so that he could lower his voice. But I still heard the anguish in it. "Why her?"

I didn't have an answer for him because I didn't have one for myself. So I yanked on the bottom of the flute until it came apart. Without the full length of it to give him leverage I was able to tug the other pieces out of his grip.

In the distance we heard what could only be described as an explosion. People gasped and screamed around us as the ground shook. Quicker than I could follow, Gray pounced forward to wrap his arms around me. I hoped it was to shield me from whatever attack he thought we were experiencing. Over his arm I saw a flaming ball of twisted steel crash to the ground five blocks down the busy street.

My mouth dropped open. That had once been a car, a blue car.

Gently I pushed at him. He made a kind of whimpering noise and clung tighter. I could feel his breath on my shoulder and the heat of his body beneath the drenched silk shirt. I might as well have been naked for all of the protection it gave me. Gray breathed in my scent in a ragged breath and whispered something I couldn't hear for all of the screams and sirens around us.

"Let go," I demanded sharply.

Thankfully he listened. But the anguish that had been in his eyes before was replaced with anger. I didn't have time to deal with that right now.

I marched over the sidewalk to grab hold of Morrígan's white cotton sleeve so that I could drag her around the corner where there were fewer witnesses. She managed to keep up with my hurried pace in her designer shoes. I wasn't quite sure why she was letting me do this to her. If she wanted me to stop all she'd had to do was burn me, a simple feat for a novice Fire witch. She even let me shove her against the stone wall without so much as warming the skin below my hand.

I brought my face in close to hers so that I could lower my voice. "Why did you do that?"

"Hmm."

Furious that she was making me spell it out, I hissed, "Why did you kill the Water witch? I needed him!"

Other books

Homecoming by Janet Wellington
Dead Night by Tim O'Rourke
Isle of Dogs by Patricia Cornwell
A Gentlewoman's Predicament by Portia Da Costa
Guardian of Lies by Steve Martini
Somebody Else's Daughter by Elizabeth Brundage