Part 16 (1/2)
”Yeah. He brought someone with him. Does that strike you as strange?”
Gavin caught his first glimpse of sun-streaked chestnut hair and his breath lodged in his throat. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water as he struggled to remember how to breathe again.
Sydney tried to tug her hand from his grasp. ”Gavin, stop. You're hurting me. Stop squeezing so tightly.”
With a supreme act of will, he loosened his grip on Sydney's hand. But he did not let her go. ”Come on,” he said, tugging her through the front door and down the stairs. ”This isn't going to be pretty. Let's meet them out by the car, where there's some semblance of privacy.”
He caught a sound that indicated William was warming up the karaoke machine someone had unearthed while they were living at Hilde's house. That meant William wasn't aware of this person's presence. It also meant the music would create a sort of s.h.i.+eld, so most of the inhabitants of the house would not hear whatever conversation was about to transpire. Good.
Killian had gone out in search of Prim for a reason, of that, Gavin had no doubt whatsoever. His suspicions as to the nature of this visit made his heart beat uncomfortably fast and his palm start sweating where it touched Sydney's skin.
He focused on Sydney. His anchor. His life. His reason for fighting this d.a.m.ned war.
Killian walked around to the pa.s.senger side of the car and offered his hand to the woman seated there. Prim stepped out of the car like a supermodel stepping onto the red carpet. Her glorious, thick, chestnut hair draped halfway down her back, and was topped with a large, floppy hat tied with a brightly colored ribbon. Her s.e.x-and-candy body was covered by a red sarong dress that stopped four inches above her knees. Strappy red heels were on her feet. Fates weren't really alive, so temperature fluctuations didn't particularly bother them.
Gavin recalled the first time he'd ever met Prim, nearly three hundred years ago. He'd picked up the scent of her Chala and tracked them to a small encampment out West, in what was now California. She'd prepared to do battle to protect her Chala, but Gavin had used an entirely different tactic. Considering the Fate's beauty, it hadn't been a hards.h.i.+p.
And at the moment she succ.u.mbed, he pulled out, dashed out the door of the tent, found her Chala crouching behind a pile of rocks, and killed her before Prim had even struggled back into her dress.
No surprise the Fate held a slight grudge.
The last time he'd seen Prim, he had killed two of her charges, and had been biding his time, planning to kill the third. Except she'd bested him. Hatred burned through him as he recalled what it had felt like when that curse hit him. It was something he'd never forget, for all of eternity.
He'd obviously become a better man, with the curse. And without the curse, he never would have met and fallen in love with Sydney-or if he had met her, he would have killed her, instead of deciding to mate with her. He wouldn't change that for anything, but still he felt the anger swelling, because Prim had taken the choice out of his hands.
And she'd given him this weight of guilt that never ceased, and that sometimes, he felt as if he might suffocate underneath it. For that, he was not sure he could ever forgive the Fate.
Gavin suddenly released his hold on Sydney's hand and gave her a push toward the house. ”Maybe it's best if you stay inside after all.”
Sydney lifted her eyebrow in that way she had of imitating him without looking stupid doing it, and said, ”Why the sudden change in tune? Who is that? An old flame?”
Gavin felt as if he were strangling on his own laughter. ”Hardly. Trust me, our feelings for each other may be mutual, but they are definitely not complimentary. Go inside. Now.”
He had no idea why he thought she might actually listen to his command. The only time she ever listened to him was out on the practice field, and even then she was beginning to question his authority as she excelled at her fighting techniques far faster than any of the others. Just this afternoon, it occurred to Gavin that the Light Ones had been going about the whole Chala protection thing all wrong. They should have taught the women how to fight, not hide them behind a few Fates and some half-trained s.h.i.+fters. Probably, the population would be thriving right now, instead of in danger of disappearing altogether.
”Prim?”
Gavin glanced over his shoulder at the sound of William's voice. The cross-dressing Fate hesitated in the doorway to Killian's home.
”s.h.i.+t.”
”Prim?” Sydney repeated the name as she gave Gavin a questioning look.
William stepped uncertainly off the porch and tottered on pink, high-heeled slippers toward the chestnut-haired woman.
”William,” Prim's voice was practically a purr, as she opened her arms and waited for him to walk into her embrace. ”As utterly eccentric as ever, I see. The pa.s.sage of time has certainly made it easier for you to expand your wardrobe, hasn't it?”
”Yes,” he said shortly. ”Why are you here?” His gaze cut back to Sydney and Gavin and then returned to Prim.
Prim bestowed upon him her glorious, radiant smile and then lifted her gaze, locking it on to Gavin, who stood still as stone, momentarily rendered unable to move.
”Hey!” Sydney protested, and she grabbed Gavin's arm and wrenched him out of the spell.
Prim blinked, a look of annoyance rus.h.i.+ng across her face so quickly it could have been nothing more than a trick of the light, and then she focused her attention on Sydney.
”William's Chala.” Her voice was breathy. She walked forward, gliding as effortlessly as if she were walking on air. ”What a lovely young woman.” She came to a halt directly in front of Sydney, and stood there, studying the Chala's features rather intently.
Gavin deliberately stepped between them and Prim lifted her gaze to focus on him once again. ”Don't do it,” he warned her. ”This one has her own magic and she isn't afraid to use it.” He stabbed his thumb over his shoulder, at Sydney.
”Why in the world would she use her magic against me?” Prim asked innocently.
”Because she's my mate,” Gavin retorted. ”And she has this crazy overprotective streak. Tends to flare up when people come after me.” His voice held a faint note of taunting that caused Prim to narrow her eyes.
”You aren't a Light One,” Prim pointed out very deliberately. ”And with one snap of my fingers, that curse is gone and you're right back where you started.”
She snapped her fingers and everyone jumped.
William grabbed her hand and thrust it down to her side, casting a nervous glance in Gavin's direction. Gavin looked as if he'd like nothing better than to rip Prim's head from her shoulders. Unfortunately, the only result would be that Prim disappeared, to be regenerated as Fates whose bodies were destroyed did, and then she'd come back, madder than ever. Prim angry was something to behold; Prim furious and holding a grudge . . . well, Gavin already knew what that was like.
”Prim, darling, that really isn't necessary. He's standing much too closely to my Chala, don't you think?” William's laugh sounded forced. And nervous.
Sydney stepped in front of Gavin and glared at Prim. ”Don't you dare take that curse off him. He's my mate, and unless you want the Light Ones to die out, we need him just the way he is.”
”Uh, Sydney, that's not really a good point to bring up right now,” William pointed out, watching Prim warily.
Prim widened her eyes in feigned surprise. ”What in the world does this Rakshasa have to do with repopulating the Light Ones?”
”It's time to take her inside, William,” Gavin warned.
William grabbed Sydney's arm and tried to drag her back toward the house.
Prim grabbed Sydney's other wrist.
”Oh no, William, don't do that. I'm not done conversing with your Chala.”
”Get her inside. Now.” Gavin's tone was steel.
William gave another tug on her arm.
”Gavin, what is this about?” Sydney asked, her tone belying her worry.
”We'll talk about it later. Right now, I need you to go inside. Prim and I need to have a private conversation. This is important, Sydney. I need you to-”
”He's right, Sydney,” Prim said solemnly. ”It's extremely important. It involves your future. Your pack's future. Your entire species' future.”
”G.o.dd.a.m.n it, Prim-”