Shades of Avalon (8 page)

I noticed a tiny camera above the door before it swung open and wondered if John was security conscious or paranoid.

Emma greeted us, smiling widely. Her clenched teeth appeared startlingly white against blood red lips. Her coat and boots from the night before had concealed her size. Without them, and dressed head to toe in black jeans and a turtleneck, she was tiny.

“Oh joy, it’s you people again,” she chirped.

I got the distinct impression she didn’t quite mean it.

“We need to speak to him,” Triona stated with a clear, decisive tone, ignoring Emma’s sarcasm.

I was confident Emma would realize we were serious. She seemed like a quick study. As I suspected, she stepped aside and swept her arm inward.

“Well, by all means, come on in.”

I caught Amanda’s grin out of the corner of my eye. She bit her lip, probably in an attempt not to encourage Emma. I got the sense Hamilton junior didn’t require much encouragement. Curiosity burned in Emma’s eyes. Despite her efforts at dry humor, she wanted to know the cause of our visit.

Inside, the interior held few surprises. At least what I could see of it in the long narrow hallway. White walls and polished stone floors the color of sand gave it misleading breadth. With the four of us packed in, there wasn’t much room to maneuver. A staircase midway down cut off half the width, and the three doors remained closed. As we moved forward, space under the stairs opened to reveal two high-back box chairs, dark and worn with age, in the otherwise sparsely decorated hallway.

Behind them was a rail to more steps, with smooth, pin top balusters. We followed Emma down into the basement.

The tight, twisting stairwell led into a huge open-plan living space with a living room area at one end and a kitchen. A dining area took up the other end toward the back of the house. A soccer game played on a large flat screen in front of a deep, sage green corner couch. The voices of excited commentators filled my ears. Several books and newspapers were scattered over a low coffee table. A discarded iPod with music still coming from the small ear buds lay on the smoked-glass dining table alongside an archery magazine.

John sat with his back to us on a high stool at a granite-topped breakfast bar. An assortment of well-used pots and pans dangled from a pan rack above his head. The sleek off-white kitchen units ran the length of the wall behind it, with a chrome and black range midway.

His fingers tightened around a bottle of beer on the counter, and I thought he might pick it up. Instead, he released his grip and a sighed deeply. His shoulders lifted, and he tilted his head one way and then the other, stretching his neck. I had met this guy once, but even seeing him from behind, this wasn’t the same person. He slipped off the seat and turned.

Amanda let out a shocked squeak.

“You’re looking well.” I smirked.

John Hamilton 2.0 pressed his lips together in a flat line and forced air out through his nose. He adjusted the waistband of his jeans as pink deepened over his cheeks, seeming uncomfortable with the close scrutiny.

I estimated he’d packed on at least thirty pounds to his six-foot-plus frame since the last time I had seen him. All muscle judging by the definition visible through the fabric of his blue shirt. Despite the weight, his sharp bone structure seemed more defined, and his troubled brown eyes gleamed with a hint of amber. Even his hair hinted of change. Traces of golden highlights threaded though the blond. John wasn’t exactly ugly before, but this guy was a god in the making. It was enough for me to pause and wonder how far the changes extended.

John ran his fingers through his messy hair, I suspected not for the first time today.

“Okay, what happens now?” he demanded with a strained jaw.

I narrowed my eyes. Tension rolled off him, and he didn’t offer us a seat or drink. On the other hand, this wasn’t a social visit, and John didn’t appear to be falling apart. Triona had dragged him back into our world, but he looked as if he was much better prepared to face it this time round.

Triona shrugged her jacket—John’s jacket—off and hung it over the back of one of the chairs around the table. Amanda slipped her left hand into mine and wrapped the other around my bicep. The hard metal of her engagement and wedding rings gave me comfort, reminding me that when all this was over, we still had a life together to cherish. I smiled down at her, feeling the usual flutter in the pit of my stomach. A pang of guilt swiftly pressed it down once more. I couldn’t say the same for Triona and Caleb yet.

Triona approached John warily but with her shoulders rolled back. Emma stood off to the side, her arms crossed over her chest, observing the proceedings with wariness and pursed lips.

“I’m sorry,” Triona whispered, fixing him with a direct gaze. I wasn’t entirely convinced the rest of us were meant to hear.

“For taking everything or for giving it back.” His hands curled into fists by his side, an act of frustration.

“Taking what? What are you talking about?” Emma questioned, dropping her arms by her side. However she didn’t give either of them an opportunity to respond before she turned her interrogations on me. “What is he talking about, and what do you have to do with it?”

“Can you give us a moment?” Amanda suggested to her, peering around my chest.

“I don’t think so.” Emma grimaced. Her eyebrows arched sharply.

I turned my attention back to Triona in time to see her reach for John’s hand. He flinched away, drawing just out of range.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. The opposite.”

“You manipulated my memories. You violated my mind. The one thing I asked you not to do. You had no right.” His voice rose in volume as he spoke.

“You also said you didn’t want to remember.”

John shook his head, dismissing her excuse. “I say a lot of stupid shit that I don’t mean.” He turned from her, flattening his palms against the breakfast bar and lowering his head.

“Perhaps this isn’t a good time to discuss everything.” Amanda’s eyes flickered in the direction of Emma.

Emma scowled at her and mirrored John’s stance at the end of the counter, dropping her head to catch a glimpse of his down turned face. “First you disappear up north for months and won’t take my calls. When I finally get to see you, you won’t talk to me about these messed up memory lapses. Then she shows up, and you’re trying to ship me off to France again. I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in, Johnny. I don’t care. You are the only family I have, and I’ll be damned if I’m staying out of this.”

John twisted his head to meet his sister’s eyes with both fear and admiration in his expression. A combination I empathized with all too well. He slid his hand over hers and squeezed lightly.

“As lovely as this family moment is,” I began, “both of you will be staying out of this.”

“Ben,” Triona said. I knew her tone, and whatever came after would be an effort to placate me.

“No,” I stopped her before she could get going. “I don’t know what you’ve done here, but these two are human. They have no place in our business.”

Amanda immediately pulled away. “And there
it
is again,” she said dryly.

John stood up straight and tilted his head back to the ceiling. “Oh boy.”

“Human.” Emma’s jaw slackened. “As opposed to?”

“There’s
what
again? What did I say?” I asked Amanda.

She rolled her eyes and scowled, and I knew I was in trouble. “It’s not what you said, Ben. Well, it is really, but it’s also how you said
it
and that you keep saying
it
at every possible opportunity.”

I hated when Amanda did this. I knew it didn’t matter what I added next. Anything that came out of my mouth would be wrong in her eyes. Maybe it was something to do with my age, or the fact I was a guy, but an angry female had the ability to scare all the blood from my brain. After that I always lost the ability to hone in on the right words.

“Can we get back to humans having no place in your business?” Emma piped in.

“Isn’t this exactly what you wanted to avoid, Ben?” Triona added. “Questions you don’t want to answer.”

“It was a figure of speech,” John offered as way of explanation to Emma.

She huffed, incredulous. “Really? I would have believed that if it wasn’t for all the other weird crap going on around here. I’m not stupid.”

“John, is there somewhere we can have a moment?” I said, nodding to Amanda.

“My house is your house.” John pointed up the stairs. “Apparently,” he added in a flat tone.

We moved our conversation into one of the rooms upstairs, a rectangular dining room with similar decor to the entrance hallway. Amanda paced around an art deco table and paused in front of a French renaissance, gold leaf mirror hung over a long sideboard and tilted her head to the side. Either she was assessing John’s eclectic taste or ignoring me. Likely a little of both.

When she moved on and ran her hand over the back of one of the high back chairs, it seemed she didn’t intend to speak first, so I did.

“Do you want to tell me what that was about?”

Amanda closed her eyes briefly and then looked at me. “You and
humans
, Ben. Why don’t you tell me what that’s about? You make it sound like being human is some kind of affliction.”

“Are you saying it doesn’t complicate things in our world?” I asked, surprised at the root of her concern.

“Our world? Which world do you mean—Guardian, or human, or are both not the same for you?”

“Guardian.”

“When did it become
our
world? Have you forgotten
I’m
human and half your genetic code is human too? What about Lewis and Carmel? Have you any idea how disrespectful you sound?” she demanded, moving around the table when I approached her.

Apparently, she planned to use the table as a barrier.

It wasn’t as if I’d said anything that wasn’t true. “Lewis and Carmel have nothing to do with this.”

She rolled her eyes again, exasperated. “They have everything to do with this. They raised you. How much more in your business do you think someone can get? Do you think I should stay out of this too?”

“You’re twisting my words. Besides, you aren’t exactly human anymore.”

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. Amanda stared at me in shock, and I knew I’d said the wrong thing again. I only meant that she had changed after Tír na nÓg.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry you said it or sorry that’s how you see humans now?”

I wanted to shut up. I really did. Regardless, my mouth kept moving independently of my brain. “I can’t help how I feel—”

“Can you hear yourself, Ben?” Deep rose flushed across her cheeks, and her eyes glazed over with anger. Her sweet flower scent wafted through the room, drawing me closer to her. I presumed any advance would be unwelcome. “You sound just like them—like Zeal and every other corrupt member of the Council. Like you think you’re better than humans.”

Her accusation slapped me in the chest, and I stepped back, appalled Amanda would compare me to the man who pushed a metal blade through her body. My heart seized inside my chest at the idea, causing physical pain. I lifted my hand and pressed it to my breastbone, rubbing the heel of my hand over the stinging ache.

She didn’t understand. Perhaps my point wasn’t coming across as I meant it to. Against my better judgment, I tried again. “Do you have any idea what they would do to us if we were exposed?”

“By ‘they’ you mean humans?”

“Haven’t you seen any science fiction or fantasy movie ever? Humans don’t take kindly to anything they don’t understand. That much hasn’t changed since Guardians were banished underground.”

“I get that.” Amanda sighed, giving in a bit. “I get that you’re worried, but where does that leave us? At war, that’s where—each side thinking they have some inherent right to be on top and neither better for it. You need to get this out of your system. You can’t fight a battle on two fronts and expect to come out unscathed. We have enough on our plate with Zeal. Please don’t become what you hate most so you can destroy it. You’re better than that.”

She walked to the end of the table near the door, and I followed her lead, reaching out to her. Amanda halted as though she’d slammed into a brick wall and held her hands up defensively. She frowned, her eyebrows pulling down. I let my hands fall to my side, and the tightness in my chest intensified at her rejection.

“You should take a walk,” she suggested, unwilling to meet my eyes.

With that, Amanda hurried from the room. I stood there listening to her brisk footfalls down the stairs, desperate to follow her but also wanting to give her the space she asked for. The conflicting desires tore at my insides, twisting my stomach into knots.

I relented with a brooding grunt and slunk from the house.

Chapter 7

Enemy Mine

I P
AUSED
O
UTSIDE
, looking up and down the street. I wasn’t familiar with the area. Going back to the hotel came to mind first, but felt foolish, like running away. I just wanted to give Amanda a little space, however reluctant I was to leave her side. So I took her advice and began walking.