Tempest’s Fury

Page 47

Anyan’s voice shook, and he fell silent. I took my legs off of his lap and scootched my chair closer, so I could cuddle against him. He kissed my forehead gently before continuing.
“I went… a bit crazy after that. That’s another reason I felt for you so much after Jason died. I’d been there. Like I said, I was too exhausted to go on a rampage, so I just sort of turned inward. When I came out of it, everyone expected everything to be as it was. They had arranged a celebration, of all things. I left the Compound hours after I woke, vowing never to return.
“I did, of course. The Alfar that ruled us were heartless bastards, but they weren’t really evil. So when ones that actually were evil did attack, I’d let myself get roped in. I fought against worse enemies, but I never fought for our leaders. That was a few Alfar ago, anyway, but still. I’m good at holding a grudge.”
With that Anyan took my hand and played with my fingers, idly.
“So that’s my story,” he said.
“Thank you for telling me,” I said, fervently. He now made so much more sense. Then I had another thought. “What was her name?”
He smiled at me, as if glad I asked.
“It was Manera. It means ‘light.’ And I named our son Samoset, before I buried him.”
And that’s when I lost it. I’d been processing everything as he spoke, and I’d welled up when he said the thing about understanding my pain at Jason’s death. But hearing him say his wife’s name, and knowing he’d had to name his son even as he buried him…
My face crumpled like a used Kleenex and fat tears started rolling down my cheeks.
“Shh,” he whispered, drawing me close. “Shh…”
But I didn’t shh. I buried my face in his chest and kept right on crying. For him and his ideals and the person he’d been. I also cried for the man he’d become, who carried such guilt for a boy’s actions.
“I’m just so sorry you had to go through that,” I said, feeling stupid for crying when it was his wife and child who’d been lost. But his expression was affectionate when I looked up at him.
“I know,” he said, wiping away my tears with his thumb. “But these things happen all the time. And it definitely taught me about priorities.”
“So why do you and Ryu hate each other?” I asked. I’d always been convinced there must have been a woman, or something.
Anyan chuckled. “I don’t hate Ryu. He just reminds me so much of myself, before Manera died. I want to shake him. And I know he looks at me, and sees this person who could have everything he’s always wanted, in terms of power and status. But I constantly hand it back when it’s offered, and go back to my little cabin. He thinks I’m nuts.”
“So he’s never actually done anything?”
“I wouldn’t say that. I had a bedmate during our last big campaign. She was beautiful, a vicious fighter, and a bit of a bitch. He seduced her away from me, thinking that I’d be devastated. But while I’d respected her and had been attracted to her, I didn’t really like her all that much. So I wasn’t bothered. I think that really pissed him off.”
Torn between a pang of jealousy at the hot but bitchy woman he’d slept with and amusement at Ryu’s attempted machinations, I settled on laughter.
“Oh, Ryu,” I said. “That sounds like him.”
“But I was not amused when he took up with you,” the barghest said, his tone gone dark.
I blinked up at him. “Why not?”
“It was like with Manera,” he said. “You were this girl. Sweet and definitely cute, but a girl. When I’d visited you in the hospital, I just wanted to comfort you. I didn’t see you as a woman,” he admitted. I reminded myself that he obviously did see me as a woman now, and kept my mouth shut.
“But then everything hit the fan, and I saw you with Ryu. I realized you’d grown up, and that you were awesome.”
I gave my unladylike snort at his calling me awesome. “Yeah, awesome,” I said.
“Seriously, you were. You’d recovered from this huge trauma, and you were still totally open. And you’d gone from cute to hot, and it was even sexier that you had no idea. I got so mad because I knew I could really see you, and that all Ryu saw was someone he thought he could shape into something else. I wanted to punch him in the face,” he admitted.
“And is that when you realized you liked me?” I teased. Well, it was half-teasing. Part of me just really wanted to hear that he did, indeed, like me.
“Yes,” he said, pulling me tight against him to kiss me gently. When he withdrew his lips, he kept his eyes on mine. “That’s when I realized I liked you. And then you kicked my ass that time at my cabin, to make us take you with us when we investigated your mother’s death, and I realized I more than just liked you.”
If I’d felt a few palpitations before, now my heart practically seized. So it wasn’t the sort of declaration of undying love heroes made heroines in books. But coming from Anyan, after everything he’d just told me, it felt bigger than that. More real.
So, typically, part of me wanted to run away, or make a joke, or maybe tip my chair over backwards to escape. But another part of me recognized that what we were facing now, with Morrigan, meant we didn’t have time for games.
“I more than like you too,” I said, softly, feeling my face go red with a mixture of embarrassment and trepidation.
“When?” was all he asked, before kissing me.
“For a while,” I said, “I think. But swimming yesterday, the way you trusted me. I knew I was a goner.”
“So just yesterday?” he asked, his eyebrow arching. “I’ve loved you for months, and you just realized yesterday?”
“Shut up,” I told him, the word “love” echoing in my ears, before going in for a proper kiss.
We only came up for air when a couple entering the hotel went past, harumphing at our PDA session. We’d forgotten a glamour.
Holding hands, we both settled back in our chairs to finish our pints. We’d been through a lot in these last weeks, but I don’t think any battle or confrontation that had happened up until now had felt this big.
And I, for one, finally felt like a winner.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
So why are they protesting, again?”
“Who knows,” Blondie told me, with a sigh. “Humans are weird.”
“You’re human, technically,” I reminded her.
“And I’m weird. Ergo…”
I shook my head slowly, and then went back to peering through the binoculars at York’s cathedral, the Minster. It was a magnificent structure: all Gothic grandeur, replete with buttresses and stained glass and all the other necessary architectural trappings.
Marring its beauty, however, was a small, but growing, crowd of humans standing around holding protest signs against idolatry and the pope.
Meanwhile, we were standing atop Clifford’s tower, a squat little structure smack on top of a hill in the center of York. We had a commanding view of the city, so it was the perfect place to come up with some strategies. In attendance were me, Blondie, Anyan, Griffin, Luke, Lyman, Jack, and a newcomer whose presence very much surprised me.
“It’s because the cathedral is Anglican, and the relics are technically Roman Catholic,” said the newest member of our little group. “The Minster is the only non–Roman Catholic cathedral to host the remains, and there are those who see the bones as idolatry and their visit as popish interference.”
We all processed what our new man said. It wasn’t surprising that he knew so much about human religious politics, after all, as he was both human and part of the British government.
Daniel Rankin was a high-ranking member of a very secret part of either MI5 or MI6, I couldn’t keep them straight. He was part of the hidden organization within the hidden organization that knew about supes, one of the liaisons between Britain’s human ruling party and the Alfar Powers That Be. That said, Daniel also seemed to be on quite good terms with Jack, something Griffin noticed with narrow-eyed interest.
“Oh,” I said, to Daniel. “That makes sense. Well, it doesn’t, as I can’t imagine wasting my day caring about where a bunch of old bones visit, but whatever.”
Daniel gave me the same look he’d been giving me since we’d met a few hours earlier. The look said, “Who the hell are you, small woman, and what are you doing here?”
But other than that, he seemed like a nice man. And he certainly knew his stuff, at least when it came to the supes.
“So how is this going to work?” Blondie asked, crowding closer to Anyan to look at the pamphlet he had in his hand. It was from the cathedral, and was for the visit of the saint’s remains. We’d taken one to help us strategize how to steal said remains, or at least keep the Red from stealing them.
Daniel, Jack, and Griffin crowded in as well, eager to get their own two cents in, no doubt. Luke stayed back, his eyes blank with Alfar distance, and Lyman kept his focus on the Alfar leader. The wyvern-halfling had kept a wary distance from Luke and Griffin, but had otherwise gone along with our cobbled-together group’s decisions. For that he deserved credit. It must be incredibly difficult to one day have to switch sides and work with your sworn enemy. That said, it made me a little warm and fuzzy inside at the thought of rebels, Alfar, and humans working together to defeat the Red.