The Lost Soul Trilogy (Primani Book 5) (82 page)

Letting go of my hand to unsheathe his blade, he asked, “Are you ready for this?”

“Absolutely. It’s only one. Piece of cake, right?” I was unarmed and wearing stilettos and a mini-dress. Sure, I was ready.

What could possibly go wrong?

The demon was masquerading as a skinny red-haired man with a tattoo on his left arm. The dragon climbed up his arm from his fingers to the side of his jaw. He wore black skinny jeans and a tank top to show off his skinny collarbone and nice tat. He hadn’t spotted us but had turned around and left before we could push through the maze of twitching bodies.

Once we got outside, Killian strode around the corner with complete confidence. He knew exactly where the skinny demon had gone. On autopilot now, Killian tracked the demon with an inhuman focus. He stalked down the alley with a blade gripped in his hand. With eyes scanning 180 degrees, he moved like a ghost. I stayed on his other side and tried to avoid becoming a ghost myself. A tiny glimmer of light caught my eye and I paused.

“Up on the right. He’s leaving a doorway. How do you want to play this?”

He thought for a heartbeat. “Follow my lead.” With that he draped his arm around me and leaned drunkenly against me. I swayed and nearly fell over. “Come on, baby! Let me come in! I’m walking you home, it’s the least you can do.” He slurred the last few words.

Laughing loudly, I said, “You’re too drunk to be any use to me. Why should I bother?”

Swaying back and forth, we made our way the short distance to where the demon was hesitating in the shadows. Just as he made a move to step out to the road, Killian checked him two feet off the ground. With one violent motion, he jammed the Primani blade into his chest. Moving too fast to see, he was back at my side just as the demon’s body exploded into ash.

Wiping the blade against a small clump of weeds, he said, “Too easy.”

THAT ONE PERFECT NIGHT was a beautiful memory now. Two weeks ago, we’d slipped out of Paris in a silver and black McLaren. I was standing beside it admiring the sleek lines while Killian filled the gas tank. We’d been driving for hours and I needed to stretch. The morning air was chilly and I gathered my wrap around me. The cashmere wrap was deliciously soft and warm. Killian had surprised me with it last night in the tiny hotel room we’d rented in Gyor. The small city in Hungary had been a welcome surprise after driving in from Vienna yesterday. The car was extremely comfortable but my body was still stiff and unused to so much sitting. It was a relief to park and spend some time walking around the city. We’d gotten up in the darkness of early morning and had been driving ever since. I twisted to the right, feeling the muscles in my lower back tighten. Groaning with relief, I stretched to the left.

“Let’s go,” he called across the roof. He had unlimited energy and slid into the leather seat with an eagerness that was irritating.

The car purred and growled as it entered the freeway. Killian drove with one hand on the wheel and the other wrapped around mine. I leaned back and closed my eyes, listening to the music.

I was about half asleep when he said, “How do you feel about staying in Romania for a few days? I’m beginning to think these trips are one big distraction. Jordan’s playing us.”

I was beginning to think the same thing. In the past two weeks, we’d been all over Germany and Austria.
Sgaine Dutre
would pop up on the radar and then disappear as soon as we got close to it. We chose to drive to avoid draining Killian’s
saol
to nothing. He couldn’t take me with him and teleport everywhere. It was too draining and he’d have little strength left to confront Jordan. So we had tried this approach. As each place was a dead end so far, it seemed reasonable that Jordan wasn’t really there. Somehow he was moving the ancient blade around without using its powers. Killian hadn’t felt the crushing pain in his chest that had signaled the blade was being used.

I said, “You’re the boss. What do you want to do there?”

“We’ll do some training. I’m feeling soft; it’ll be good to workout. We have a place we can use. No neighbors.”

“Hmm, with thick walls and a comfy bed too?”

He squeezed my leg and let his hand linger. He shook with head with mock confusion. “You’re always hungry. I must be doing something wrong.”

Giggling, I said, “Oh, no, you’re doing something right!” I leaned over and nuzzled the warm skin of his neck. Inhaling him, I sighed in bliss. “Doesn’t this car go any faster?”

Hours later, he finally exited the M3 and veered towards the city of Miskolc, Romania. The country around us was thick with trees and rolling hills. We’d stayed on the main highway so we’d bypassed some towns. I’d hoped to get a good look at them but we didn’t get close enough. I looked at the GPS screen and shook my head again.

“Are you sure you know where we’re going? How come you don’t want to use the GPS?”

“The last time I trusted one of those things, I ended up in Miami.”

“Where were you going?”

“Boston.”

Fizzing with giggles, I gave up. He had the world atlas inside his head.

The road got bumpier after we left the two-lane highway. We made so many turns I was completely lost. After about 15 minutes, we pulled up in front of a small house hidden under a huge canopy of trees. The tiny house was whitewashed stone and had an adorable thatched roof. Some of the thatching dipped low above the front windows as if it needed a haircut.

“It’s awesome! Look how cute this place is!” Grabbing his arm, I pulled him up the stairs. “Come on, hurry! I want to see the inside!”

“Patience, Princess,” he smiled as he put his hand against a security pad. After a second, its tiny light turned green and the door opened with a click.

The inside was plain and simple, but no less adorable. Whitewashed walls and exposed ceiling timbers made a simple background for the flowered curtains and overstuffed couch. A small corner fireplace completed the living room. On the other side of the entrance was a small dining room with table and chairs. I could see into the kitchen from here. A curved wooden staircase led to the upstairs. Bounding up the stairs, I threw open the first door I came to and stopped short with a yelp.

“You!”

Rivin rubbed his eyes and sat up from his napping position on the bed. His faded jeans were unbuttoned and rode way too low on his hips and the rest of him was bare except for a gleaming silver cross that hung around his neck.

“Come on in, love. There’s plenty of me to go around.” His face fell comically when Killian showed up behind me. “Bloody hell, you’re here too?”

Not rising to the bait, Killian snapped, “What are you doing here?”

Shrugging nonchalantly, Rivin buttoned his jeans and said, “I needed a break. I always use this place…its creepiness suits me.”

“Creepy? It’s a cute house.”

Grinning hugely, Rivin said, “Oh, the house is bloody fine, lass. It’s what’s outside that amps up the creepiness. Just wait till after dark.”

Alarmed, I turned so abruptly I bounced my head off of Killian’s chin. His teeth came together with a clack. Rivin dissolved into barks of laughter and collapsed back onto the bed.

“Oh, geez! I’m so sorry!” I turned pink with embarrassment but Killian only rubbed his chin.

With an exasperated look at Rivin, he said, “Nice job!” To me, he said, “Come on, killer, let’s get our stuff inside. It gets dark early in these forests.”

“Rivin? Baby, I can’t find the towels!”

The woman was raven haired and built like a stripper--A really talented, really expensive stripper. She was tall with a tiny waist and breasts that Mother Nature could never provide. When she screeched to a halt, her, uh, nipple rings swung violently back and forth. With a squeak of surprise, she held one hand out in front of her Brazilian.

Moving at warp speed, Rivin hopped up and stood in front of her. She peered around his bare shoulder.

Killian simply raised an eyebrow at Rivin and closed my mouth with a finger.

Still grinning mischievously, Rivin adjusted his jeans. “Sorry, lass, but you’ll have to take a number.”

Rolling my eyes, I said, “In your dreams.”

After unpacking our limited wardrobe, I was in the middle of a huge yawn when Killian wrapped his arms around me. Leaning tiredly against him, I didn’t protest when he suggested a nap. I was beat. “Are you coming?”

“Not this time. I need to talk to Rivin. You get some rest; you need it.” Before leaving the room, he checked the locks on the two windows, closed the outside shutters and then pulled the curtains closed.

The stripper was gone when I came downstairs a few hours later. Killian and Rivin sat at the dining room table studying a large map. Their voices were quiet as they talked and pointed to locations. I hung back so I wouldn’t interrupt them. They were completely focused on their plans. I decided to find the kitchen. They had to be hungry; maybe I could find some food for us. Killian glanced up at me the moment I crossed into the room. He gestured for me to join them.

Rivin acknowledged me with a slight incline of his head. He said to Killian, “Do you think the little woman can whip up something to eat? I’m near famished.”

“Little woman?” I repeated carefully.

Killian leaned out of the way and smothered a smile. “I don’t know, Rivin. Mica, are you feeling domestic just now?”

Rivin totally missed the warning. He leaned back in his chair and said, “Oh, don’t go to too much trouble, love. Any old thing’ll do. I worked up an appetite this afternoon.” He winked and added, “Gotta keep the juice flowin’, if you know what I mean!”

Smiling sweetly, I fluttered a hand to my heart and did my best Scarlett O’Hara impression, “Why Rivin, darlin’, you should’ve woken me up to fetch you some food! I had no idea you were too stupid to make a sandwich.”

I sashayed dramatically to the kitchen to the faint echoes of laughter inside my head.

Nice exit!

Rivin’s incredulous tone carried to the kitchen. “Did she just call me stupid?”

Little woman
? Was he serious? Who
says
that? Moron! I scrounged around for five minutes and put together a tray. Killian was listening intently to Rivin’s report from Switzerland and I didn’t want to break their concentration. I sat the tray down and went back for drinks. I’d managed to find some kind of dark bread and lunchmeat…not anything I recognized exactly, but it smelled okay. I added some sliced apples and a handful of olives that were left in the refrigerator. Everything smelled okay; I just hoped they wouldn’t poison us. A couple of beers added some nutrition to the feast. We seriously had to go shopping…

I was about to slip out to the other room when Killian stopped me. “Mica, you have to eat too. You’re not interrupting. Come and sit down.”

Rivin eyed me with annoyance but nodded too. “Yeah, come and sit. I’ll be on me best behavior, I promise.”

Killian piled some mystery meat on top of a slab of bread and handed it to me while he continued talking to Rivin. Turning to me, he said, “This concerns you too.”

Rivin stood up and came up behind me. With an expression of doubt, he carefully looked me over. Like evaluating a horse, he ran his broad hands down my shoulders and arms, squeezing my muscles along the way.

Before I could protest, he shook his head. “I won’t do it. I’ll hurt her. You know I will. I only know one way to fight.” His eyes glittered and he added, “To the death.”

Choking on my bread, I sputtered, “What?”

Helpfully pounding me between the shoulder blades, Rivin answered, “I’m your new sparring partner, love.” He didn’t look too happy about it.

I whipped around to Killian for confirmation and he nodded. “Are you serious? I thought you were going to spar with me?”

“This is a better option for you. The change will help you. You’ve trained with me so often you can predict my moves and counter them.”

“That’s not true!” I denied too much.

He laughed and said, “Really? Are you sticking with that? We both know better.”

Rivin still looked doubtful. He warned, “Man, you don’t know what you’re asking me to do. I’m not good at playing nice.”

Now that I’d gotten over the surprise, I was a little insulted by this attitude. I wasn’t exactly a novice. Plus, I had powers that he didn’t know about. I buffed a fingernail and looked down my nose at him in a perfect imitation of Killian. “Rivin, how are your healing skills?”

Killian barked a laugh and warned, “Play nice, babe. We’re going to need Rivin’s help.”

The next afternoon was sunny and warm. I wiped a bead of sweat away from my eye and watched for the exact second of decision. Counting in my head, I waited. One, two, and…there it is! His lunge was nearly impossible to see but I anticipated it. Rolling to the left, I bounced back to the balls of my feet and threw a roundhouse kick to his ribs. Grunting at the impact, he grabbed for my leg but I pushed off to the other side. His hand caught nothing but air. Instead of attacking again, he paused to regroup. He was dripping with sweat now and not laughing at me anymore. An hour earlier, we started with a few simple warm ups. Rivin wasn’t exaggerating when he said he didn’t know how to play nice. He had no kind of restraint at all. My Primani always toned down their killing instincts when we
practiced
. Not so with Rivin. On our second match, he threw me into a tree. We had to take a break for me to heal a cracked rib. After that, I was pissed. He wasn’t too cocky after I landed a solid kick to his jaw. The blood from his cut mouth ruined his favorite t-shirt. That was about 30 minutes ago. Now we were both out to prove something.

Killian watched from the side. Yelling at me to push harder, he watched me fall; he watched me learn. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of silver. Before I could lift a hand to block him, Rivin tackled me from the side throwing me into the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of me. Stars danced around my head as I lay gaping like a beached fish. He was crushing me with his shoulder in my diaphragm.

Expecting Killian to step in, I searched around for him. He stood next to us with arms crossed; his expression said “handle it.” Still not getting any fresh oxygen, I willed myself not to panic. I can do this. Rivin’s eyes were inches from mine and burning with the urge to finish the kill. His breathing was harsh and hot on my face. He curled his lip into a smirk and that did it. Gathering my strength, I head-butted him and threw him off of me with enough force that he landed on his back. Forcing myself to move before he could get up, I sucked in a lungful of air and kicked him in the ribs. The crack was gratifying.

His grunt of pain less so.

“Fuck!” He hissed in his breath as the pain registered. He glared up at me and heaved himself to his feet again. Breathing shallowly, he felt his side and grimaced.

Killian gave me a nudge towards the house. “That’s it Mica, you’re done for now. Go get cleaned up.”