Forsaken
Page 37
“I suppose it does,” Leo said absently. Of course Grey was right. In fact, he had hit on all the key points he had used in any and every argument he’d had in his head when he had found himself toying with the idea of settling down in the arms of a single woman. So why was that irritating the crap out of him? It was a much needed reality check, and yet…“There’s nothing wrong with Faith,” he found himself saying defensively to Grey. “She isn’t really all that complicated. She’s probably the most straightforward and honest woman I’ve ever met.” Funny how it took an inhuman woman to make him feel that way. “I’m the one that’s complicated. I wouldn’t wish me on the most virulent bitch on the planet.”
“So maybe you can think of a way to change that,” Grey said archly.
Again, the wish thing, Leo thought irritably. Doesn’t this guy ever give up? “Like you said, I like me fine just the way I am.”
“And you are so delighted with yourself and your life that there is nothing you can think of that needs changing?”
“You know, you’re starting to annoy me,” Leo growled darkly.
“Because of my mere presence or because my observations are hitting too close to home for you?”
“Screw you. Why don’t you just go and grant a wish somewhere like a good little genie and stop pestering me?”
“I would, but I have a feeling you’d just be recalling me soon, so why make the trip only to have to return again?”
“I’m not making a goddamn wish! Will you please just back the f**k off me?”
“As you wish. Jackson has been kind enough to offer me a suite of rooms for a day or two of rest. He knows just how exhausting using that much magic can be, even for someone as old as I am.”
Leo eyeballed Grey’s youthful visage, ready to scoff at him…though he didn’t know exactly why he might want to. It wasn’t until that moment, however, that he realized Grey was looking very pale, his handsome, patrician features showing a weariness that took Leo by surprise. It had never really occurred to him that Grey would have to pay a heavy personal price in order to carry out the wish. He’d just thought…he’d thought it would be easy for him. He’d thought he was this all-powerful Sultan Djynn that had more power at his fingertips than he knew what to do with.
“And yet you’re here, waiting for me to make another wish? You should quit while you’re still on two feet.” Leo frowned. “Can that happen? Can you overextend yourself?”
“Magic is finite. I can only use magic from niks. The more niks, the more power I can channel into other tasks. However, manipulating more power than you can deal with can have detrimental ramifications. The older we are the more easily we can manipulate vast magics. But no matter how old we are, we can still burn ourselves out if we are not careful.”
“And that’s what happened here, isn’t it? You came close to burning yourself out?”
“Mmm…not quite. Not with this wish, although I promise you it was no easy task. But your wish…I sense your wish, whatever it ends up being, will be that dangerous for me.”
“Then why do you keep coming at me about it? Why not cut bait and run while you still can?”
“Self-preservation advice?” Grey chuckled. “I suppose you are uniquely qualified to give it to me.”
“What does that mean?” Leo demanded of him.
“It means you are an expert at self-preservation at all costs. And I do mean all costs. Because my advice, which I’m happy to impart for free, is that you might have a care for what you are doing. You’re going to wake up one day and realize you’ve done such a good job at protecting yourself that you’ve managed to isolate yourself from anything that makes a life worth living. And that, my friend, makes you very much like that Templar priest you despise so much. He is only now coming to realize what folly it has been, his search for his holy grail at the cost of everything else. And in that way he is one step ahead of you.” Grey leaned in closer, ignoring the rage simmering in Leo’s eyes. “He, at least, has come to realize what his mistakes have been and is willing to work on improving himself. You…not so much.” Grey shrugged a dismissive shoulder. “And now I’ll take my leave of you before my lambasting, I thank you. As I said, I’m quite worn out. I’m not quite up to a sound tongue-lashing.”
And just like that, he winked out of existence, his usual theatric shower of gold dust drifting to the ground in his wake. Leo, left with no avenue for his anger, was at loose ends. He began to pace the walkway with urgent, heated steps.
“I am nothing like him!” he shouted out into the cold night air, his voice echoing until it sounded hollow and lost. I am nothing like that sick Templar son of a bitch, he reiterated in his own thoughts. Or whoever it was that hurt Faith.
Unlike that Templar bastard, Leo was a man of conscience. A man of thought. He would damn well think twice before hurting anyone else. In fact, he was constantly trying to protect those around him from the harsher truths about himself. Docia and Jackson, for instance. He’d always kept the finer details of his life to himself because he didn’t want them to worry or become anxious for him.
Leo stopped pacing so abruptly that the rocks under his feet skidded.
Or maybe you were just protecting yourself? No. No, he wasn’t selfishly motivated. He honestly didn’t want anything he did to end up hurting them. He loved them more than anything else on this earth.
But now they no longer need protecting. Now they are the ones protecting you. The thought sat ill on him, but he wouldn’t let his anger come into play so it could cloud the issue. Cloud the truth. And the truth was…
They had been protecting him. When they had erased his memory of his attempt on Odjit’s life, they had been protecting him from exactly what was happening…a crisis of his self. Having been a victim to, and having become painfully aware of this Nightwalker world, he had been floundering in anger and loss. He had lost his opinion of himself. Lost his…identity. Yes, that was it. Leo the badass was no longer the best game in town. No longer able to be the strongest, the wiliest, and the best at what it took to come out on top. Now he was low man on the totem pole and frankly…
It sucked. It hurt. It made him angry.
God, what a colossal waste of time this all was! He had never been a wallower, but it seemed like all he had been doing was wallowing. Walking around and feeling sorry for himself. Using anger to keep himself righteously separated from a world he had so little say in. And if he kept it up he was going to…
Lose. Everything. Anything that was important to him was going to fall away from him. Christ. He didn’t want that. Fighting the Wraiths with his gutsy little Night Angel had proved to him that he could hold his own with these paranormal badasses. He didn’t have to be afraid of that any longer. But he did have to admit to himself that his ability here was limited and had to be used carefully. If his interaction with Chatha had taught him anything, it had taught him that.
Actually, Faith had taught him that. Faith had never once told him he couldn’t pull the job off when they were gearing up for the Wraiths. In fact, she had seemed to be worried about her own part in it. She had thought her fear of being touched would cause him trouble.
In that scenario he had been the key to defeating the Wraiths, and she had been the low man…and yet she hadn’t been angry, pissy, or threatened…unlike him.
But he had a legitimate excuse, he tried to reason with himself. He’d been victimized…
Christ. A victim. When had he turned into a victim? When had he allowed that to happen?
Leo marched into the house, making a beeline for Jackson’s bedroom suite. There were a lot of people crowded in there, Gargoyles, Bodywalkers, humans, and, of course, a Night Angel, most of whom were full of excited talk and gestures of delight. There were two notably silent presences. Kamenwati and the much subdued Faith. Kamenwati was standing off to one side, arms folded across his broad chest, head bent pensively as he observed the ruckus going on all around him. Jackson was in bed still, apparently not yet able to move because of the press of femininity weighing him down. Though he did still look gaunt and weak. Leo had no doubt it was going to take some time before he was fully up to par.
“Excuse me,” Leo said after noisily clearing his throat. All eyes turned to him quizzically. “Can I get a moment alone with my friend?”
Marissa’s hands tightened on Jackson and by the look on her face she was about to tell him to piss off. But Jackson beat her to the punch.
“Sure,” he said. “There’s something I wanted to ask you, too.”
Everyone realized they were being summarily dismissed and began to move toward the door and into the outer suite of the master bedroom. The room emptied out, both Marissa and Docia dragging their feet and continually looking back at Jackson as though he might disappear the minute they let their attention stray. That being said, it was Kamenwati who was the last to leave the room, clearly wanting to avoid coming into physical contact with anyone else.
“Hold it. I want you to stay for a minute,” Leo said, even the neutral “you” coming out of him sounding derogatory.
Kamen raised a curious brow, but stayed behind, closing the door in the faces of a lot of baffled people. Once the door was closed Kamen sighed.
“I imagine you are looking for your pound of flesh, if you’ll pardon the figurative,” Kamen said quietly. “Or perhaps you’d enjoy the literal.”
Leo was still and silent for a minute, but Jackson could see the tension in his friend’s body. What was more…he could feel it. In fact, he could feel the entire screaming jumble of emotions Leo was trying to sort out in his head. It was as though he were an empath like his wife was, but never before had he experienced anything like this.
Grey had told him there might be some side effects because of the way things had been processed, nothing to worry about because it wouldn’t last. Dumbfounded and curious, he looked at Kamen. Nothing. The only thing he could feel was what Leo was feeling. It was easy to know whose feelings it was because all the emotions were directed toward one person. Leo despised Kamen and it showed on all levels. Not that Jackson blamed him.
“First, since I have to stay here a whole month with you under the same roof,” Leo said pointing to Kamen, his tone hard but not envenomed, “I would prefer you stay out of my way. Otherwise, you’ll be making it too easy for me to give in to my instinctual urges to kill you.”
Kamen’s expression, placid as it was, was clearly marked with his surprise. It was very clear he had been expecting the full force of Leo’s rage. And while he wasn’t shaking hands and backslapping the other man, it was clear he wasn’t as interested in starting up a physical ass-kicking.
“I will endeavor to do so,” Kamen promised him.
“Good. Now leave, I need to ask my friend for something.”
With a nod, Kamen left the room. He offered no apologies, no side of an olive branch. He knew Leo was not ready for it…and that he might never reach that point was also a strong possibility. Neither was Kamen ready to deserve it, in his mind.
Kamen saw Ahnvil at the back of the group that was milling about the door, wondering what was transpiring on the other side of it. He had flung himself into a chair near the fireplace, his big body dwarfing the chair and, it always seemed, taking up far more space than anything else in the room. Kamen walked up to him. He stood there silently for a moment, watching Ahnvil c**k his head at his approach.
“What the bloody hell are you wantin’?” he asked roughly, his Scottish burr, thickened with hostile emotion, rolling hard off his tongue. Here was yet another man in this house who had a bone to pick with Kamenwati.
For Ahnvil’s part, he had just as good of a cause. As he rubbed an absent hand over the ouroboros brand over his chest, he reminded himself of why. All Gargoyles had been reborn as slaves to Bodywalker Templars. All bore the mark of their Templar masters, and all of them carried the energy of their maker within them wherever they went.
In Ahnvil’s case, he carried Kamen’s.
“I am concerned. There’s good cause to believe Apep will return to finish what he has attempted.”
“Tell me something I doona know,” Ahnvil said, scoffing at his maker.
“I’m only trying to figure out how we might defend ourselves in that case. You and I…right now we are the first line of defense for this house. All the other powerful players are weakened or spent.”
“Again, you’ve a talent for stating the obvious. Doona fret, lass,” he chuckled mirthlessly, “we Gargoyles will do as we’ve always done. Protect your hide and do your dirty work. After all, is that no’ what you created us for?”
“So maybe you can think of a way to change that,” Grey said archly.
Again, the wish thing, Leo thought irritably. Doesn’t this guy ever give up? “Like you said, I like me fine just the way I am.”
“And you are so delighted with yourself and your life that there is nothing you can think of that needs changing?”
“You know, you’re starting to annoy me,” Leo growled darkly.
“Because of my mere presence or because my observations are hitting too close to home for you?”
“Screw you. Why don’t you just go and grant a wish somewhere like a good little genie and stop pestering me?”
“I would, but I have a feeling you’d just be recalling me soon, so why make the trip only to have to return again?”
“I’m not making a goddamn wish! Will you please just back the f**k off me?”
“As you wish. Jackson has been kind enough to offer me a suite of rooms for a day or two of rest. He knows just how exhausting using that much magic can be, even for someone as old as I am.”
Leo eyeballed Grey’s youthful visage, ready to scoff at him…though he didn’t know exactly why he might want to. It wasn’t until that moment, however, that he realized Grey was looking very pale, his handsome, patrician features showing a weariness that took Leo by surprise. It had never really occurred to him that Grey would have to pay a heavy personal price in order to carry out the wish. He’d just thought…he’d thought it would be easy for him. He’d thought he was this all-powerful Sultan Djynn that had more power at his fingertips than he knew what to do with.
“And yet you’re here, waiting for me to make another wish? You should quit while you’re still on two feet.” Leo frowned. “Can that happen? Can you overextend yourself?”
“Magic is finite. I can only use magic from niks. The more niks, the more power I can channel into other tasks. However, manipulating more power than you can deal with can have detrimental ramifications. The older we are the more easily we can manipulate vast magics. But no matter how old we are, we can still burn ourselves out if we are not careful.”
“And that’s what happened here, isn’t it? You came close to burning yourself out?”
“Mmm…not quite. Not with this wish, although I promise you it was no easy task. But your wish…I sense your wish, whatever it ends up being, will be that dangerous for me.”
“Then why do you keep coming at me about it? Why not cut bait and run while you still can?”
“Self-preservation advice?” Grey chuckled. “I suppose you are uniquely qualified to give it to me.”
“What does that mean?” Leo demanded of him.
“It means you are an expert at self-preservation at all costs. And I do mean all costs. Because my advice, which I’m happy to impart for free, is that you might have a care for what you are doing. You’re going to wake up one day and realize you’ve done such a good job at protecting yourself that you’ve managed to isolate yourself from anything that makes a life worth living. And that, my friend, makes you very much like that Templar priest you despise so much. He is only now coming to realize what folly it has been, his search for his holy grail at the cost of everything else. And in that way he is one step ahead of you.” Grey leaned in closer, ignoring the rage simmering in Leo’s eyes. “He, at least, has come to realize what his mistakes have been and is willing to work on improving himself. You…not so much.” Grey shrugged a dismissive shoulder. “And now I’ll take my leave of you before my lambasting, I thank you. As I said, I’m quite worn out. I’m not quite up to a sound tongue-lashing.”
And just like that, he winked out of existence, his usual theatric shower of gold dust drifting to the ground in his wake. Leo, left with no avenue for his anger, was at loose ends. He began to pace the walkway with urgent, heated steps.
“I am nothing like him!” he shouted out into the cold night air, his voice echoing until it sounded hollow and lost. I am nothing like that sick Templar son of a bitch, he reiterated in his own thoughts. Or whoever it was that hurt Faith.
Unlike that Templar bastard, Leo was a man of conscience. A man of thought. He would damn well think twice before hurting anyone else. In fact, he was constantly trying to protect those around him from the harsher truths about himself. Docia and Jackson, for instance. He’d always kept the finer details of his life to himself because he didn’t want them to worry or become anxious for him.
Leo stopped pacing so abruptly that the rocks under his feet skidded.
Or maybe you were just protecting yourself? No. No, he wasn’t selfishly motivated. He honestly didn’t want anything he did to end up hurting them. He loved them more than anything else on this earth.
But now they no longer need protecting. Now they are the ones protecting you. The thought sat ill on him, but he wouldn’t let his anger come into play so it could cloud the issue. Cloud the truth. And the truth was…
They had been protecting him. When they had erased his memory of his attempt on Odjit’s life, they had been protecting him from exactly what was happening…a crisis of his self. Having been a victim to, and having become painfully aware of this Nightwalker world, he had been floundering in anger and loss. He had lost his opinion of himself. Lost his…identity. Yes, that was it. Leo the badass was no longer the best game in town. No longer able to be the strongest, the wiliest, and the best at what it took to come out on top. Now he was low man on the totem pole and frankly…
It sucked. It hurt. It made him angry.
God, what a colossal waste of time this all was! He had never been a wallower, but it seemed like all he had been doing was wallowing. Walking around and feeling sorry for himself. Using anger to keep himself righteously separated from a world he had so little say in. And if he kept it up he was going to…
Lose. Everything. Anything that was important to him was going to fall away from him. Christ. He didn’t want that. Fighting the Wraiths with his gutsy little Night Angel had proved to him that he could hold his own with these paranormal badasses. He didn’t have to be afraid of that any longer. But he did have to admit to himself that his ability here was limited and had to be used carefully. If his interaction with Chatha had taught him anything, it had taught him that.
Actually, Faith had taught him that. Faith had never once told him he couldn’t pull the job off when they were gearing up for the Wraiths. In fact, she had seemed to be worried about her own part in it. She had thought her fear of being touched would cause him trouble.
In that scenario he had been the key to defeating the Wraiths, and she had been the low man…and yet she hadn’t been angry, pissy, or threatened…unlike him.
But he had a legitimate excuse, he tried to reason with himself. He’d been victimized…
Christ. A victim. When had he turned into a victim? When had he allowed that to happen?
Leo marched into the house, making a beeline for Jackson’s bedroom suite. There were a lot of people crowded in there, Gargoyles, Bodywalkers, humans, and, of course, a Night Angel, most of whom were full of excited talk and gestures of delight. There were two notably silent presences. Kamenwati and the much subdued Faith. Kamenwati was standing off to one side, arms folded across his broad chest, head bent pensively as he observed the ruckus going on all around him. Jackson was in bed still, apparently not yet able to move because of the press of femininity weighing him down. Though he did still look gaunt and weak. Leo had no doubt it was going to take some time before he was fully up to par.
“Excuse me,” Leo said after noisily clearing his throat. All eyes turned to him quizzically. “Can I get a moment alone with my friend?”
Marissa’s hands tightened on Jackson and by the look on her face she was about to tell him to piss off. But Jackson beat her to the punch.
“Sure,” he said. “There’s something I wanted to ask you, too.”
Everyone realized they were being summarily dismissed and began to move toward the door and into the outer suite of the master bedroom. The room emptied out, both Marissa and Docia dragging their feet and continually looking back at Jackson as though he might disappear the minute they let their attention stray. That being said, it was Kamenwati who was the last to leave the room, clearly wanting to avoid coming into physical contact with anyone else.
“Hold it. I want you to stay for a minute,” Leo said, even the neutral “you” coming out of him sounding derogatory.
Kamen raised a curious brow, but stayed behind, closing the door in the faces of a lot of baffled people. Once the door was closed Kamen sighed.
“I imagine you are looking for your pound of flesh, if you’ll pardon the figurative,” Kamen said quietly. “Or perhaps you’d enjoy the literal.”
Leo was still and silent for a minute, but Jackson could see the tension in his friend’s body. What was more…he could feel it. In fact, he could feel the entire screaming jumble of emotions Leo was trying to sort out in his head. It was as though he were an empath like his wife was, but never before had he experienced anything like this.
Grey had told him there might be some side effects because of the way things had been processed, nothing to worry about because it wouldn’t last. Dumbfounded and curious, he looked at Kamen. Nothing. The only thing he could feel was what Leo was feeling. It was easy to know whose feelings it was because all the emotions were directed toward one person. Leo despised Kamen and it showed on all levels. Not that Jackson blamed him.
“First, since I have to stay here a whole month with you under the same roof,” Leo said pointing to Kamen, his tone hard but not envenomed, “I would prefer you stay out of my way. Otherwise, you’ll be making it too easy for me to give in to my instinctual urges to kill you.”
Kamen’s expression, placid as it was, was clearly marked with his surprise. It was very clear he had been expecting the full force of Leo’s rage. And while he wasn’t shaking hands and backslapping the other man, it was clear he wasn’t as interested in starting up a physical ass-kicking.
“I will endeavor to do so,” Kamen promised him.
“Good. Now leave, I need to ask my friend for something.”
With a nod, Kamen left the room. He offered no apologies, no side of an olive branch. He knew Leo was not ready for it…and that he might never reach that point was also a strong possibility. Neither was Kamen ready to deserve it, in his mind.
Kamen saw Ahnvil at the back of the group that was milling about the door, wondering what was transpiring on the other side of it. He had flung himself into a chair near the fireplace, his big body dwarfing the chair and, it always seemed, taking up far more space than anything else in the room. Kamen walked up to him. He stood there silently for a moment, watching Ahnvil c**k his head at his approach.
“What the bloody hell are you wantin’?” he asked roughly, his Scottish burr, thickened with hostile emotion, rolling hard off his tongue. Here was yet another man in this house who had a bone to pick with Kamenwati.
For Ahnvil’s part, he had just as good of a cause. As he rubbed an absent hand over the ouroboros brand over his chest, he reminded himself of why. All Gargoyles had been reborn as slaves to Bodywalker Templars. All bore the mark of their Templar masters, and all of them carried the energy of their maker within them wherever they went.
In Ahnvil’s case, he carried Kamen’s.
“I am concerned. There’s good cause to believe Apep will return to finish what he has attempted.”
“Tell me something I doona know,” Ahnvil said, scoffing at his maker.
“I’m only trying to figure out how we might defend ourselves in that case. You and I…right now we are the first line of defense for this house. All the other powerful players are weakened or spent.”
“Again, you’ve a talent for stating the obvious. Doona fret, lass,” he chuckled mirthlessly, “we Gargoyles will do as we’ve always done. Protect your hide and do your dirty work. After all, is that no’ what you created us for?”
