Bound by Shadow (13 page)

Or was it just some monster trying to kill Riana and her friends?

With a snarl to match the
other
’s temper, Creed launched himself up the steps. He lurched into the kitchen—which was surprisingly intact and smoke-free—then banged open the swinging door to the brownstone’s big living room.

The scene he found was absolutely not what he expected.

Instead of being destroyed or splashed with monster blood, the room was neater than when he last saw it—except for the four arrows sticking out of the walls. All the broken glass and wood had been cleaned away, and somebody had washed the soot off the paint…but there
were
four arrows.

Four arrows sticking out of the walls.

Remnants of smoke curled lazily around the fletching, as if trying to coax the arrows to fall to the floor.

Creed’s partner Andy was standing by the overstuffed sofa, patting a singed piece of her pulled-back red hair with one hand, holding a bow in her other hand, and saying over and over again, “I’m sorry. I’m soooo sorry.” Her jeans had soot on them, and her sweatshirt, too. Even her sneaker laces looked singed. A quiver full of arrows lay at her feet.

Creed followed her gaze forward, to the big wooden table with the heavy iron base that took up most of the living room. Riana and Merilee were on their knees on top of the table, struggling to hold down a swearing Cynda. The redhead was dressed in blue-jean shorts and a green blouse with one sleeve burned clean away.

And, clearly visible even to a man half-stupid from banging his own head on a stone floor, was an arrow sticking out of her right ass-cheek. A small red stain spread around it, and every time she swore, a flame burst out somewhere. Almost as fast, some force—presumably earthy in nature—smothered it out.

“Get hold of yourself,” Merilee snapped. “Jesus, you big baby. It’s just a flesh wound. A flat-head trainer tip stuck in the fat part.”

Three flames popped out, two beside the table and one on Merilee’s shirt as Cynda screamed, “My ass does
not
have a fat part!”

“I’m so sorry,” Andy said again as the flames got doused. Then she looked at Creed, first at his face, but second at his chest. Her eyes started to slide down his naked body.

Creed covered himself with both hands, in a big hurry.

“I—uh.” Andy shook her head, then pointed her bow at one of the chairs, which had something in the seat. “Um, brought you some cock. I mean, clothes. A shirt and sex, too. Shit. Socks. Socks! And some shoes. Couldn’t find any underwear, though.” She turned a brilliant shade of maroon, closing her eyes and rubbing both hands over her face.

Creed glared at her. “I don’t wear underwear. Thanks anyway.”

Andy somehow turned even redder.

“You’ve been shot before,” Riana was telling Cynda in a brusque but calm voice, as Creed walked to the chair, careful to keep his hands over his cock. “You know we have to take it out—unless you’d rather just live with it?”

By the time he got his jeans, sleeveless T-shirt, and socks on, Cynda still hadn’t stopped swearing and threatening Merilee’s and Riana’s lives if they touched the arrow. Creed worked to put on sneakers as Andy said, “Look, I don’t think I’m going to get this arrow-and-sword stuff. I shoot guns. Aim and pull the trigger, bang.” She put the bow on the overstuffed couch and jerked her hand away as if the thing might have acid dripping from it. “We have to figure out a way for me to fight with bullets, okay?”

“Whatever,” Cynda moaned. “Just get these bitches off me.”

Riana ignored her and focused her attention on Merilee. “Why?”

Merilee looked put out. More than usual. “You said she wasn’t trained. We were just starting her training, that’s all.”

“You can’t train an adult woman with no elemental talent to be a Sibyl.”

“Hey,” Andy said, wounded. “I told you. I have talent. I can shoot things. There have to be some human bad guys, right? Bullets will do just fine for them.”

Cynda thrashed on the table and added, “She has more talent than you give her credit for!”

Riana didn’t answer either of them, instead keeping her conversation directed at Merilee. “What element did you use to lock the tips?”

Merilee looked miserable and didn’t respond.

Riana pushed down harder on Cynda’s shoulder and leaned toward the blonde. “You used air, didn’t you?”

“Screw you!” Cynda tried to buck off her captors, then set them both on fire, albeit briefly. “We were just trying to make it easy for her!”

Creed chanced a glance at the four arrows jammed into the walls, then looked back at the one in Cynda’s ass. He hoped the Sibyls never tried to make anything easy for
him
.

Andy babbled about guns and shooting and how well she did at target practice.

More fires broke out and got snuffed just as quickly.

Riana glared from Cynda’s back to Merilee’s face. “I can’t believe you did that. Air? Air?!” She shook her head. “Even air Sibyls have trouble controlling air weapons locked with air! That was irresponsible.”

“Hold on.” Merilee took her temper out by cramming Cynda’s head farther into the table. “You’re the one who came out of the basement with a naked demon-man, Riana—wearing just your underwear. And you smell like sex, so let’s not start measuring anyone’s responsibility, okay?”

Instinctively, Creed braced for the earthquake. He figured they’d lose their last half-dozen mirrors and the arrows might even fall out of the walls.

But…the earthquake never came.

About fifteen fires started, with one impressive jet shooting out of the biggest, heaviest mirrors still hanging on the wall. Riana’s attention shifted to the streams of fire pouring out of the mirrors. She stared at them, eyes wide, and Creed knew Riana was going to do something to put out those blazes. He smelled the light odor of fresh dirt even though he didn’t see anything other than a shimmer in the air between Riana and the mirrors.

The flames winked out before they cracked the glass.

Creed blinked at her. “Impressive.”

She jumped at the sound of his voice, spared him a brief glare, then concentrated on the rest of the fires. Her cheeks flushed crimson, and she spoke to Merilee through her teeth. “Just unlock the air in her ass, please. It’s fanning her flames, literally.”

When Merilee tried to take her hand off Cynda’s head, the redhead started to get up.

Riana turned to Creed, then Andy. “A little help, please?”

Creed got up, and he and Andy jogged to the table. Andy put her hand on Cynda’s head and apologized four more times while Creed held her legs, trying not to react to the unnatural heat charging into his hands. Riana encouraged Cynda to act her age, and Merilee made another comment about flesh wounds and fat asses as she grabbed the arrow. Then the blonde closed her eyes and said something in Greek.

Creed saw Riana tense.

A loud
pop
hurt his ears, and the arrow wiggled in Cynda’s ass, as if it was trying to pull itself free.

Cynda shouted and seemed to set the entire world on fire at once.

Riana handled that as fast as she could, but not in time to save Creed’s shoelaces. He thought he might have a nice set of blisters on his palms, too.

Merilee took hold of the arrow, snapped the shaft in half, and tossed the crest and fletching over her shoulder. It burst into flames in midair, and Riana didn’t bother putting it out.

Andy mumbled, “Temper, temper,” but Merilee just ignored the cinders forming on what remained of the shaft. She pressed her fingers on either side of the entry point, rocked the shaft a couple of times as Cynda called her everything but a nice girl, then in one smooth action, pulled out the bloody tip of the arrow.

Creed saw nothing but flames for about three seconds, but thank God nothing burned him to death before Riana got the situation under control. Merilee, her blue shirt and shorts sooty from that last onslaught, kept her fingers pressed against Cynda’s bleeding ass for about a minute, then said, “If you’ll stop setting shit on fire and come upstairs, I’ll flush it and put some ointment on it. I don’t think it’ll need a bandage. She didn’t shoot you that hard.”

“Hard enough,” Cynda muttered. Creed let her go at the same time Riana and Andy did. “And my ass absolutely does not have a fat part.”

Andy started to apologize, but Cynda got up from the table and cut her off with, “Don’t worry about it. Wasn’t your fault.”

As Merilee and Cynda reached the stairs to the upper level, which were situated about halfway between the kitchen door and the front door, Merilee stopped and looked back at Riana, with a gesture toward Andy. “She shoots things. So, is it possible to cast her some pure lead bullets and lock them?”

Andy answered before Creed could speak. “My father was a gun nut. He used to make bullets, and I still have his old swaging equipment. Would that work? Creed and I could try.” She glanced at Riana. “You are going to let him go home soon, right?”

Riana let out a breath and got off the table. She answered Merilee instead of Andy. “If she’s going to work with us, she needs weapons she can use comfortably. We need to make sure the lead is pure, or we won’t be able to lock in enough elemental energy to make them lethal to Asmodai.” To Andy, she said, “Real bullets will have contaminants, so they won’t work. I’ll have to get the proper molds for your ammunition and cast the bullets myself. Swaging is a cold-forming process, and I can’t get rid of contaminants without heat. Casting should work, but we won’t know if the bullets will be effective against Asmodai until you use them the first time.”

“Well, I’m
not
going to be the guinea pig,” Cynda announced before stomping up the stairs. Merilee followed her, renewing her teasing.

To Andy, Riana said, “I can’t make any promises or projections about when I’ll release Creed. I’ve just started my analysis, and we haven’t spoken to the Motherhouses for their input. It might take weeks.”

Creed inspected his hands.
Analysis. Experiment. Input. I’m just a piece of data to her, right?
He studied his hands harder. No blisters on his palms. That was good. Other than wounded pride, a few char marks, a couple of small holes in his T-shirt, and his fried shoelaces, he’d come through that little nightmare pretty well. He looked at Andy, who had a lot more burn holes in her shirt than he did, and said, “I can’t believe you shot her in the ass with an arrow.”

Andy tucked a wild bit of red hair behind her ear. “Shut up. I can’t believe I found you naked with one of my best friends. Christ. It’s like catching your brother fucking.”

They both looked at Riana, who turned red all over again. She glanced down at her chemise and panties, turned redder, and said, “I need to go downstairs for a minute. Maybe longer. Can I trust you?”

Creed wanted to tell her to go to hell, that he and Andy were leaving, but he couldn’t make himself do it. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Andy grunted, and he was tempted to elbow her.

Riana looked at her bare feet, then back at him. “Okay.”

Her eyes said,
Don’t make a fool of me for taking you at your word. Please
.

And he knew he wouldn’t.

“I—I need a shower. Or something.” Riana spun around and almost jogged out of the room.

Creed watched her go, savored the way her body moved, and thought about touching her. He had to fight to keep from smelling his fingers to see if Cynda had managed to burn away the sweet musk he had so enjoyed before all hell broke loose. His cock stirred in his jeans, and the
other
stirred in his gut. He clenched his jaw, then took a step back in shock.

Riana.

Riana set it off. The
other
reacted to her.

No. No. Not to her. To his feelings for her.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself.

He had been attracted to his share of women, but he had never felt anything like what he was already feeling for this one. And he had never had trouble with the
other
responding to his physical sensations or emotions.

It could be because she had paranormal abilities, some sort of psychic signature, but Creed doubted that. His instincts told him the stark truth. The
other
was reacting to Riana because Creed was reacting to her at such a deep level.

So the more he wanted her, the more he cared about her…

The beast inside him snarled again, and Creed’s gut twisted into a knot. This was one hell of a complication he hadn’t expected.

Stop it. You don’t know for sure. You don’t have evidence.

But he had enough. He knew he did.

Enough of a hunch that he knew he shouldn’t take any chances with Riana’s safety.

He turned to Andy and meant to tell her that she needed to buy about a dozen pairs of shoelaces, just in case she kept accidentally sticking projectiles in Cynda’s ass. He meant to get that out of his mouth, and sound lighthearted about it, too.

Instead, he stared past Andy, wordless, and imagined he could still smell Riana’s fresh, feminine scent. He wanted to reach inside his soul and rip out the
other,
and beat the thing to death with his bare hands.

When Creed finally made himself focus on Andy, he couldn’t tell her anything he had planned to say. He couldn’t look her in the eyes, either.

After a few moments of silence, what came out of his mouth was, “I’m in deep shit here.”

11

Riana ran down the marble steps to her bedroom, raced inside like something was chasing her, locked the door behind her, and stood there shaking, clenching her crescent moon pendant in her fist. Candlelit earth tones met her eyes, along with her refreshingly clean and Zen-like environment. Bamboo mats. Mattress on the floor with a spread that incorporated autumn shades. A single wooden dresser, Mission style. A single chair, also Mission style. Several mirrors reflected the light from candles floating in little bowls of water, some on the floor, some on her dresser. The bowls of water were a must, what with the…occasional shaking that went on wherever she lived, accidentally tipping candles over and the like.