Shadow Borne (4 page)

The woman near the back glimpsed us over the
man's shoulder and looked vaguely uncomfortable before turning her
attention back to her lover. It was a telling look and one with
which I was well acquainted. It said keep your distance. Most
nymphs had been on the receiving end of such a not-quite-glare at
one time or another.

Claire chose a table for two in front of the
wide picture window that graced the front of the cafe. It was the
same spot we snagged every time we stopped in for coffee and the
occasional pastry. Strands of soft white twinkle lights rimmed the
windows and rested along the wide sill. Claire automatically took
the seat facing the door while I slipped into the one that faced
the room; Claire knew I couldn't bring myself to take the seat by
the entrance–to do so would have put my back to the room and I was
too well trained to throw caution to the wind in such a flagrant
manner. Once, I would have taken the seat without a second thought.
Another time, I reflected, murmuring a thank-you to the waitress
who slid steaming mugs of spiced coffee in front of us. Another
life.

Claire wasted no time at all in tearing open
a handful of sugar packets and gleefully adding them to her coffee.
Three packets of liquid creamer followed the sugar.

"Don't you want any sugar?" she asked.

"No," I declined the blue packets she
offered and blew at the steam before taking a careful sip of my own
coffee.

"You sure?" She asked, but tore open those
packets too before waiting for an answer.

"I'm sure." Behind my mug, I hid a grin.
"I'm trying to get used to black coffee again since we're leaving
for the coast soon."

"Ugh," Claire moaned, "don't remind me. But
you go right ahead and enjoy your plain coffee. I, on the other
hand, plan to live life to it's sugary, carb laden fullest until we
have to leave for Coztal."

"Carb?" She was eating carbs now too? I eyed
her but didn't press her on what exactly a carb was–knowing Claire,
it was something really gross like deep fried sugar. It was
probably another one of those cultural gaps, like sharks. Either
way, I figured it was something I didn't want to know about. "I
will stick with my plain food." I told her. "You're sure about
going with us to Coztal then?"

Claire nodded. "It's going to kill me to
leave Ashley and Sienna, but I trust Bob and Marta to look after
them. And my family of course would protect them with their lives,
especially–Mike–" she stumbled a little over her brother's name and
her eyes flashed briefly to mine before she recovered herself.
"Anyway, I'm sure they'll be fine. And Mark and I have spoken to
both girls about this mission and why we have to go. So." She
shrugged. "I'll worry either way. But right now I can do more good
in Coztal. Besides, it's only a couple of weeks right?"

"If that." I confirmed, admiring Claire's
calm sense of logic.

She was right. We did need her on our dual
exploration/recovery mission to the coastal towns, and the harsh
reality remained that if the protective fences in Grandview were to
fail, one extra person was unlikely to make much of a difference.
Added to the fact Claire hadn't been trained in combat, it just
made more sense that she would be more help on our upcoming mission
than she would by staying here. Not that anyone, least of all me,
would have blamed her had she chosen to remain in Grandview.

But I was grateful she hadn't decided to do
that. Claire had been acting as our strategist and rescue
coordinator for months now and she was damn good at it. Plus, she
was quick on her feet and didn't panic easily. Good qualities that
were never wasted no matter what the situation.

"Depending on what we find," I told her "and
what sort of shape the coast is in, we might not be staying all
that long."

"You mean if there's nobody left to rescue."
she sighed, and it didn't escape my notice the way her unpolished
fingers tightened around her empty mug. I drained my own cup in the
next instant and scooted my chair away from the table.

"Yes. I would like to be more optimistic,
but..."

Claire tossed a couple of small gold coins
onto the glass table top and double looped her purse strap around
her wrist as we filed out the door and into the star strewn
night.

All around us, people milled about the
square, talking and laughing, maybe clinging desperately to the
hope that the world wasn't coming to an end in a rapid-fire
succession of violence. I glanced beyond them to the far distance
where the woods bordered the northern-most edge of the town, where
the protective fences shimmered in the dark with their unique brand
of magic. Beyond that shimmering border it looked black and silent
from here and for a chilling moment it was all too easy to believe
the end of the world lay in wait, close enough to pounce.
"Yeah."

Claire sighed as we made our way across the
wide avenue and down the road to the place where she had left her
car. "It's been a long time since their fences failed."

"Well, there is that, too. But it wouldn't
have made much difference either way. If we were getting to them
any faster."

"Hell," Claire muttered, jamming a long
silver key into the lock on the car door and clicking a button to
release the lock on my side. "Would it even have been possible for
news of their plight to reach Grandview any sooner than it
did?"

"Not really, no." I answered honestly.
"Coztal and the surrounding ocean-side communities are far enough
away that it takes a while for news to reach out this way. Even
then, the residents there were pretty much screwed the moment the
zone failure occurred and let the Coatyl in." A break in the clouds
overhead spilled slivers of moonlight into the convertible.

Claire's knuckles turned white on the
steering wheel at the mention of the Coatyl. I toed my boots off
and twisted around until I was leaning back in the passenger seat
with my legs crossed at the ankle and resting against the dash.

"I'm sorry, but in my mind those damn things
will forever be linked with vampires."

I turned by head in time to catch the
shudder that went through her. Honey colored hair swished against
her shoulders and back when she shook her head.

"Vampires?" I frowned for a second before
remembering some of the old legends Claire had shared with me. "Oh.
Right."

"I know they don't really
look like vampires, or what vampires would look like if they were
real, I mean, but still–that chalky white skin and those teeth and
nails." She broke off and absently rubbed at her right
shoulder.

"Does it still pain you?"

"Huh?" Her eyes cut over to mine before
going to her shoulder. She let her hand drop and quickly refocused
her attention on the road ahead, as if she hadn't been aware of
touching the old injury. "Sometimes." She finally shrugged. "It's
not too bad. I get a little sore now and then but truthfully I
hardly notice it anymore."

"It's healed up nicely." I agreed. "By this
time next year you won't even know anything happened."

"Except for the scar." she snorted. “I think
I would have rather had the T-shirt.”

"It's not so bad." I assured her. That was
the truth. Even now, the four jagged claw marks on her right
shoulder were significantly faded. The marking had lost its red,
puffy vividness weeks ago.

"Maybe. Mark says that before long it'll
just be thin silvery lines that will hardly be visible at all."

"He's right."

At that Claire gave a short laugh. "Would
you listen to me...carrying on about a few scars. Forgive me?" She
flashed a quick grin in my direction and steered the car around a
curve.

We had just turned off onto the rambling
mile-long drive that would take us straight to Bob and Marta's–and
now Claire and Mark's–home and tension suddenly knotted my shoulder
blades, even though I wasn't in any danger of running into Mike
tonight.

"Hmm." I shifted in the seat and idly
twisted a section of ink colored hair through my fingers, held it
up to the moonlight, and made an effort to relax and breathe
normally as we approached the house. "Tell you what, Claire–I'll
put up with your scars if you'll put up with mine."

"It's a deal." A light breeze kicked the
hair back from her shoulders and she laughed as we coasted to a
stop in front of the towering white structure.

To call it a house was probably a flagrant
understatement. My people didn't even typically live in houses. At
least, not your average square shaped structure with four walls and
a roof, so I'm sure the white elephant of a house in front of us
looked even bigger to me than it would to other people.

Hell, on more than one occasion Claire had
even confessed to being a little overwhelmed by the sheer size of
her new home and I knew she had grown up in a house that nobody
would have ever called small, in some city called Edmond.

I'd grown up in the heart of the forest,
mostly under the protection of the dome, like all the other nymphs.
I hadn't lived there for over a year now; instead I'd opted for my
own small cabin at the edge of the woods.

It wasn't in the protected zone, which I
didn't like, but it was perfect for me and a stone's throw away
from the Grandview safe zone. Literally, it was two feet from the
sparkly fence that guarded the city. In an emergency I could
probably take a flying leap out my living room window and land
right on the fence, and possibly even over it on the town's
soil.

It was a great little cottage, though it was
certainly nothing like Claire's digs, I conceded, unfolding my long
legs from the dash and climbing gracefully out of the convertible.
Claire vaulted easily over the door and then leaned back in to
retrieve her purse and the prized seashells and rock it contained.
Every lamp was burning within the mansion. Light seemed to fill
every inch of space to spill out the windows in bright yellow
patches on the manicured lawn.

Between the house lights and the bright
silver and gold moon that had decided to come back out and grace us
with its presence, even the landscaped rolling hills behind the
house and the six car garage seemed lit up and on display. As
usual, Marta's porch lights bordered on blinding.

I nudged the convertible's door closed with
my hip and beamed at Claire. "Have you ever been tempted to take a
rock to one of those porch lights?"

"You mean the flood lights?" She laughed.
"I've fantasized about it, sure, but if I did it Marta would freak
out thinking vandals had been here and with my luck she would put
in even brighter bulbs."

"They make brighter bulbs than this?" I eyed
the porch skeptically.

"I don't know, but I bet–Mark!" she suddenly
shrieked.

"Mark?" I uttered. With a growing sense of
dread, my eyes followed Claire as she broke into a sprint across
the short expanse of lawn that lay between us and the house, up the
wide, white washed front porch steps to launch herself at her
husband.

His arms closed around her and in the next
instant he lowered his mouth to hers in an intimate show of
affection that had me awkwardly looking the other way.

A movement caught the
corner of my eye and I swiveled back to the porch. The light
shifted behind the statuesque bulk that was Mark cradling Claire in
the middle of the front door frame. Behind the pair, a man cleared
his throat and said excuse me.
That
voice...

He hadn't spoken more than two words and yet
I knew that voice. For a brief moment I gave serious consideration
to spinning on my booted heel and walking back down the lane in the
direction in which I had come. The only thing stopping me was the
fact that I would be damned if he–if anyone–would make me run. I
would not disgrace myself by running scared like a skittish rabbit.
With an inward sigh, I forced myself to push away from the side of
Claire's navy blue convertible, put one foot in front of the other,
and walk calmly up the porch steps.

My boots thumped solidly against the smooth
white planks beneath my feet and I concentrated on the sound. It
seemed to pulse in tandem with my heart, a steady thump thump
thump. Mark and Claire disentangled themselves from one another and
Claire peered over his shoulder before uttering a hoarse cry and
reaching for the figure behind them. I caught a glimpse of
chocolate toned hair and forced myself to take a deep breath.

Mark grimaced and plowed a hand through his
light brown hair. His pale green eyes flashed sympathy, and then he
stepped aside.

Mike. I drank in the sight of him and in
spite of all the mental preparation, despite the advance warning,
being in his presence felt a lot like being slapped.

I sucked in a breath as he straightened and
released his sister. Claire turned around and worried her bottom
lip between her teeth, alternating her gaze from me to her brother
and back again.

"Aries, I'm sorry. I had no idea–"

"They decided they were up to making the
trip after all. We got in about an hour ago. Your parents and your
sister are asleep already. They haven't even met the girls yet."
Mark made the hasty explanation to his wife.

Mike's eyes never left mine. He inhaled
deeply, took two steps forward and the next thing I knew he had
yanked me off my feet and practically plastered me to his chest. It
took everything I had not to scream. As it was, I twisted and
shoved and maneuvered until I managed to create the inch or so of
space between our bodies that I needed in order to get out of his
grasp.

I flattened my palms against his chest with
every intention of shoving him away from me. Actually, I didn't
really need to free my hands in order to make him move away from
me, but Claire was already standing beside us looking dismayed
enough without watching me knee her brother in the groin.