Spirited Legacy (Lost Library) (24 page)

Her grip must have finally registered, because he looked down at her and winked. The bastard. Here she was, worried he’d get his ass kicked, and he was playing silly games with a flying lizard. No, not just a flying lizard, but one that could roast him from well beyond twenty paces. Not cool. And on top of it, she had lost a little feeling in her hand from gripping so hard. Again, not cool.

Ewan must have gotten over his mad, because he finally spoke to the assembled group. “We didn’t know you’d narrowed down the possibilities so much.” Was that a mild twinge of annoyance she heard in his voice? She did believe that it was. “But now that you have a few locations, I can do a reconnaissance flight, scout each of the locations, and tell you how saturated Worth’s magic is in each location. The idea being that the most saturated location with the most recent spores will be the most likely hiding place for both Worth and his most precious assets.”

“Fucking bloodhound…hunt for humans…fucking bastard…owes me.” Lizzie looked up at Ewan. That was Ewan; she was sure. But he wasn’t speaking. She recognized the voice, and who else would be griping about being sent off to track Worth for the puny humans? But she’d heard it as a static-filled echo. She turned to John. “Did you hear that?”

“What?”

No reason to stir the pot. “Nothing,” she said. Just one more creepy thing about those weird dragon guys. Someone was getting grilled at some point…but she wasn’t sure how exactly that would play out.

While she’d been contemplating freaky dragons and her sanity, the dragons and Harrington had come up with a plan to hit all the locations. Night was coming, so they’d start this evening. Ewan preferred to fly under the cover of darkness. It was only then that Lizzie realized that he’d literally meant
fly
earlier. As in—dragon with wings, flying. Cool as that may be, she’d take her wolf over that any day.

“One last item.” Lizzie thought she’d strangle Harrington. This was turning into the never-ending meeting. “Thoughts on how you ended up well over twenty feet from your original location when you faded, Lizzie?”

“A few. The first of which is that you guys—” She motioned to the dragons. “—have a crap memory and twenty feet was never the outward fade limit. And—I may have made a tiny error when I cast the fade earlier.” She blushed.

“Understandable. You’d never faded before,” John said. Either he missed the blush or he ignored it.

Not so, Harrington. “I don’t think that was the problem, was it, Lizzie?”

“Um, no. But I’ll be much more careful in the future. And specific. I’ll be more specific.” Who knew her magic would perceive John as a place? How was that even possible? Trying to keep John out of her brain, especially if she was stressed and under pressure—that might be hard. Because that’s exactly what had happened. She’d been worried and thinking about John made her feel better. So she’d had John on her mind when she’d faded. The only problem was that he’d been a little far away. She wanted to stamp her foot and protest that it wasn’t fair. She’d
also
been thinking about the Library. But practically speaking, her connection to John was so very much greater than any she had to the Library.

Realizing Harrington had never responded, a hopeful note crept into her voice and she said, “Maybe we can discuss this in a mentoring session.” She looked around at the curious faces surrounding the table. “In private.”

“Enough for now. Lachlan and Ewan, let me know if you need any assistance with your reconnaissance. Max, perhaps you can assist with long-range transport? Finding a pilot last minute might be difficult. I know Frank’s not available to leave right now.” At Max’s nod, Harrington turned his attention to Pilar and Heike. “If you can go through the Vampyr books one more time? I know it’s repetitive and tiring, but any piece of information that you can glean might be helpful. You’ve both been a great help so far.”

“Harry? Would you mind to have a look at Lizzie before you leave?” Polite. To the point. Harrington didn’t betray any other feelings about Harry’s presence.

“Naturally. I am planning to stay a bit, though. Sarah is stable and will be fine with a colleague checking on her for the next day or two.” He paused. “I’ve made arrangements for accommodation not far from here.”

Lizzie could see a slight stain of pink beginning at Harrington’s collar and running up to his ears. They really did rub each other the wrong way. She couldn’t perceive anything objectionable in Harry’s words. In fact, he seemed quite helpful. As she turned to John, she heard Harrington reply, “You’ll stay here.”

Lizzie was ready to stretch her legs. The meeting had been much too long. As she stood up, her vision narrowed slightly, her peripheral vision turning black. Before she could blink, John had a firm grip on her elbow and was lowering her back down to into her seat. “Head down?” John murmured in her ear.

She took a breath. “No. I’m fine. I must have stood up too quickly.” And she was fine. But tired, she realized. Frank had said to take it easy. And she understood she wasn’t to run a marathon—but a marathon meeting? She’d been sitting on her tush. She sighed.
Stupid magic malfunction.

John interrupted what looked like a heated conversation between Harry and Harrington. “Can you have a look, Harry?”

“Of course. What happened?” Harry turned sharp eyes to her. While John explained her magical mishap, Lizzie figured she was recovered and they could continue this someplace more private. Except this time when she stood up, there was no tunnel vision to warn her.

Chapter 27

L
izzy woke up warm and comfortable, wrapped in John’s arms.

“Umm.” She grinned, wiggling just enough to make sure he was awake and interested.

“I don’t think so.” His voice was sleep roughened. And incredibly sexy. As was the stubbly feel of his chin on her cheek.

She slowly rubbed her cheek up, then down against his chin. Just enough pressure to feel the hard line of his jaw and the soft scrape of day-old whiskers. She could feel him inhale slowly, and then she felt little nibbles and kisses along the sensitive tendon of her neck. And then a bite. Not painful, but firm. She was sure it was intended as a mild reprimand—his way of saying “don’t tease me”—but he failed. All she could think about was the clenching feeling deep inside her, when the bed dipped.

John rolled quickly out of bed. “Witch.” Shaking the last traces of sleep away, he turned and knelt next to the edge of the mattress. “After passing out again, you need to take it easy.”

“Then put a shirt on,” she grumped. Bare chest, bare feet, jeans riding low on his hips. He needed more than a shirt to squelch her desire to yank him back in bed.

She blinked. Wait a minute. He seemed awfully casual for a Lycan whose mate had just passed out. Last time she woke up after passing out, he was a mess. She chewed on her lip. She hadn’t really thought about that. He really had taken it hard. She frowned. She hadn’t
meant
to overreach with her magic. Or get kidnapped. Twice. She sighed. Realistically, she wouldn’t want to date herself. She was—she scrunched up her nose—high maintenance.

“You don’t seem too concerned about it.” She ventured a peek under her lashes.

He smiled, a slow, sexy smile. “Do you want me to be?”

“Just saying. Last time you were less—” She waved her hands in his direction. “—however you are now.”

“Relaxed? Calm? Not worried sick?” Fully dressed, he sat on the edge of the bed to tie his shoes. Looking down as he fiddled with the laces, he said, “Harry gave you the green light. He said you’d overdone it a bit, that you likely hadn’t eaten enough, were a little dehydrated, and otherwise seemed fine.” Finished with his laces, he caught her eye as he said, “Although, you are to rest if you feel at all tired today. He expected you to be completely fit tomorrow.”

“Hmm. Okay.” Weird, but cool. She liked this relaxed, charming John. Here was the man she’d met and originally fallen in love with. And yes—she was completely head over heels. There was no getting around the fact.

“And I may have woken you up a few times last night. Just to make sure he was right,” he said sheepishly.

Aha!
Lizzie knew something was up. And now that she thought about it, maybe she remembered him gently shaking her in the middle of the night. She shrugged. Whatever made him sleep better. Lizzie wasn’t sure what exactly she would do if the tables were turned. She frowned. She really wasn’t the type of person she’d want to date. She’d be worried sick all the time. That wasn’t a very reassuring feeling.

“What time is it? And is there any news on Ewan’s targets?”

“Nine o’clock, and I have no idea. I haven’t been downstairs yet.” He looked at her scantily dressed self, still wrapped up in the duvet. “Since you’re not in a rush to get up, I’m going to head down for breakfast.”

“I’ll join you in a few minutes,” she replied. The poor man was probably starving.

She’d only managed a quick bathroom break and to throw some jeans and a top on when there was a knock at her door. “Yes.”

Heike poked her head in. “Can we talk?”

“Come on in.” Lizzie still wasn’t entirely sold that Heike was someone she could trust, but Lizzie was typically a good judge of character. She liked to believe that particular piece of herself had survived her transition into spell caster, that one piece of her had remained intact through the constantly changing landscape of her life the last few weeks.

But now she wasn’t sure. She’d experienced a strong sense of unease when she’d first met Lachlan and Tavish. Now, however, she believed them trustworthy and honorable men. So that first impression had been some kind of glitch. A magical glitch, maybe. Or maybe her second impression was wrong. She wasn’t sure. And that was enough to make Lizzie just a little sad. She didn’t want to lose her faith in her own judgment.

And Heike. She’d mistrusted Heike from their first introduction. She considered her, at worst, a member of Worth’s gang. At best, complicit by virtue of inaction. And now—Lizzie sighed. Now she wasn’t sure. She was young. Much younger than Lizzie had initially realized. And shy. She’d as much as admitted to Lizzie that she wasn’t good speaking with people she didn’t know. What Lizzie had seen as disinterest or self-interest might have simply been uncertainty. When a shy person is placed in an uncomfortable social situation, or a very stressful situation with strangers, Lizzie supposed the result could look something like her initial experiences with Heike. Lizzie was also starting to get a nagging feeling that she was missing some vital piece of information or had failed to observe something important.

She narrowed her eyes in consideration. She just bet that Harrington had all the pieces. That would explain why he’d been so completely obnoxious about placing her trust in him and relying on his judgment when it came to Heike. He had the pieces, and he wasn’t sharing.

Lizzie had been waiting for Heike. She was the one who knocked on Lizzie’s door, not vice versa. But it was clear that Heike was hesitant to speak now that she was here.

“You wanted to talk about something in particular?” Lizzie prompted her.

Heike nodded slowly as she sank down onto the loveseat placed at the end of the bed. She clasped and unclasped her hands in her lap nervously.

“I know you don’t trust me,” Heike started.

Great. One of
those
conversations.
There was no right answer to that comment, so Lizzie remained silent and waited for her to continue. What came next was not at all what she expected.

“Ewan found Worth. Not Worth’s hideout—he actually found Worth. And I’m not sure anyone will tell you.” Heike’s words were rushed.

Lizzie felt her throat close and tried to decide if she was about to have some kind of panic attack now that she knew—had some proof—that Worth was alive. She hadn’t realized until that very moment that she’d wanted so much to believe he was dead that she’d half convinced herself he hadn’t survived. Which was ridiculous. Of course, the evil genius who sucks people’s magic to heal himself is still alive.

“Shit,” Heike said, looking at her with wide eyes. “You don’t look so good.”

And Lizzie laughed. Doubled over, from the belly, make your side hurt, laughter.

“Shit,” Heike repeated with even more emphasis.

Which, of course, only made Lizzie laugh all the harder.

“I’m going to get John. This was a huge mistake.” Heike had stood up and was halfway to the door, before Lizzie caught her by the arm.

“Stop. Please.” Lizzie wiped away the tear tracks where her eyes had watered from laughing so hard.

“You really don’t look good.” Heike pulled the arm that Lizzie held. “And you’re hysterical. I need to get John.”

Lizzie didn’t let go initially. After a second, she dropped Heike’s arm and said, “If you feel you need to. But I promise I’m not hysterical. It wasn’t even Worth that made me laugh. Well, mostly not Worth. And there’s a reason you told me.” Heike always seemed such a cold, distant type; Lizzie figured calm reason would work.

And she wasn’t wrong.

“If you’re not upset about Worth, then—um, what were you laughing at?”

“I am upset about Worth. But I was laughing at—uh, sorry—you.” Lizzie snorted. “I was thinking how maybe I hadn’t been fair with you. And you pick that moment to come in like you want to have a heart-to-heart. But contrary to all indications that you want to talk about our stuff, you’re here for an entirely different reason. You’re here to share something that’s clearly supposed to be a secret. Thanks for that, by the way.” Lizzie shot her a sheepish smile.

Lizzie stopped when she saw how confused Heike was.

“We have stuff?” Heike frowned at her. “What are you talking about?”

Well, shit.
“Sorry. Apparently,
I
have stuff. With you. Gah. Forget it. The point is, you pop out with ‘shit.’ Which, by the way, is a lot like watching a twelve-year-old swear—fascinating in its incongruity but just wrong.” Lizzie thought she was doing a bang-up job explaining herself. Until she saw Heike’s dismayed look. “It was funny. And I was already a little stressed by the news about Worth.”