Dark Lord of Kismera: Knights of Kismera (43 page)

BOOK: Dark Lord of Kismera: Knights of Kismera
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“And now I’m sitting here, hoping you don’t want my balls on a platter.”

Maggie sat for a long time looking at him, her lips parted. Drace waited for the explosion to come, but Maggie shocked him to his core by bursting into tears.

Drace leapt to his feet and went to kneel beside her chair.

Maggie flung her arms around him and sobbed against his shoulder. Of all the reactions she could have had, he hadn’t thought of tears. He rubbed her back and let her cry, making soothing sounds, “Shh, Maggie, shh. I’m sorry, hon.”

“No, no. It’s not what you think,” Maggie said, sniffing. “Oh geez. I’ve gotten mascara all over your good shirt. God, I must look a mess.” She pulled free of Drace’s arms and got to her feet. She hurried to her bathroom to repair her face.

While she was gone, Drace went into the kitchen, found a tall glass and ran some water from the facet in it. His head was starting to hurt and his skin prickle with foreboding.

Maggie came in awhile later, her face washed clean of makeup, but her eyes still red. She went up behind Drace and slipped her arms around his waist, laying her cheek against his back.

Drace covered her hands with one of his. “I thought you would be angry,” he commented dully, feeling as if he had cheated on Ki, and confused at the strong attraction to Maggie. It felt like he had known her for a long time.

“Oh, I
wanted
to be angry,” her voice came from behind him. “Perhaps I am a little. It’s all very confusing.”

Drace rubbed his thumb over her knuckles in an idle gesture, lost in thought.

“You don’t belong here,” Maggie said quietly, letting go of her hold of his waist.

“I know,” Drace replied, taking one last swallow then setting down the glass. “I need to get going.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Maggie corrected. “I meant, you don’t belong here, in this world. I think that may be why you’re dreaming so much now. Ki’s world is calling to you; to your true self.”

“I’m not sure I like that true self, if that’s the case. It’s like the violent side can just turn on at any time,” he confessed. “It kinda scares me.” He turned to look at her. “I wish I could take you there, to Kismera—so that I could prove its existence to you.”

“It’s a far fetched story, I must say, but I find that I do believe you.” Maggie sighed with longing. “To love someone like that…” Maggie shook her head, “That’s why I cried. It’s so tragic. Ki’s lucky to have had you in her life.”

“I probably should be going,” Drace said. He suddenly felt unwilling to discuss it further, and he saw how tired Maggie was.

He began to button his shirt the rest of the way, but she put a hand on his. “Stay, spend the night.” At his protesting look, she added, “You can have the bed and I’ll take the couch.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I know I’ll be dreaming tonight. Little pieces are already popping into my head. I don’t want to scare you.

“You won’t. I understand what’s going on now,” she argued. “And truthfully, maybe I just want the rest of tonight to be mine.”

Drace traced a thumb over her cheek and gazed into her intense green eyes. “Maggie, I don’t…”

Maggie stopped his words with her fingers on his lips. “Please?” She gave a pleading look.

Drace stood there for a second, looking down at her. “Okay,” he finally said. “But I’ll take the couch.”

Maggie gave a snort of laughter as she eyed his height. “Look at my couch. I can’t ask you to fold up on that short thing. God, that’s funny.”

“You win,” he conceded. “Please, be careful. Don’t touch me if I start yelling.”

“Sure. Let me get some extra covers from the closet and then you can get some sleep. You look drained,” she told him. “Want to borrow a night gown?” she asked as she led him back down the hall.

“Now who’s being funny?”

Drace stopped Maggie in the bedroom’s doorway when she headed back out with an arm full of blankets. He kissed her softly on the mouth. “You really are a sweet thing, Maggie. If my life had turned out differently I would have wished for you.”

Tears welled up in Maggie’s eyes. “Damn it, MacKinnon. Now you’ve gone and made me cry again,” she groused, but her watery smile took the sting out of her words. “Good night, Drace.”

“Good night, Maggie,” he returned, giving her a sad smile.

Chapter Forty-Six

 

 

MAGGIE CAME AWAKE with a start, not knowing at first what it was that woke her. She lay still, listening through the silence of the apartment. She heard the quiet hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of an old clock on her desk, and then she heard the moan, one of pain and distress. She got up and padded down the hall.

Drace lay in her bed flat on his back, and from the light of the small lamp, she could see the sweat wetting his hair. He was in the grip of the nightmare he had known was to be his destiny that night.

A sudden idea came to her as she watched him move restlessly. She had shared an apartment with three other girls during college. One had talked in her sleep and had a recurring dream of something that had happened in her youth. Maggie and the other two had tried an experiment and found with the right questions or suggestions they could lead her into revealing her nightmare. Once brought to her roommates’ attention, the girl was able to work through a painful past.

Carefully, Maggie sat on the side of the bed. “Who are you fighting, Drace?” she asked, keeping her voice calm and low.

His muscles twitched as if he were moving. “Zakaras. They just keep coming.” His voice was so quiet she could barely hear him.

Battle tactics,
Maggie thought,
What to do?
“Where is their leader? Do you see him?”

There was silence as if he were searching. “Yes,” he finally said.

“Are you armed? You need your sword, and a shield. Do you have them?”

“Yes, I have them.”

“Do you have the black horse?” Maggie felt a second of panic.
What is the horse’s name?
“You need the black horse to take you.”

Drace groaned as the dream sucked at him. “I found him. I found Pride.”

“Go after the leader. Kill the leader and the others will go. You can do it. I will help you.”

There was silence for a moment as whatever he was dreaming unfolded behind his eyes. He made a grunting sound as if he was giving great effort.

“You can beat him, Drace. You are a great warrior. You can defeat him,” Maggie encouraged softly.
I better be sure who he’s fighting,
Maggie realized,
it could be a friend instead of a foe.
“Who is the enemy, Drace? Who do you battle?”

“Zakar,” he whispered, his tone strained.

Ohhh crap. He’s fighting a lesser god. Can I accidentally kill Drace by a dream?
Anger hit her:
Not on my watch.
“You can defeat him Drace. He is nothing. Your sword is great, slay him Drace.”

Maggie watched as the muscles in his arms and chest twitched and every once in a while his legs jerked.
It must be one hell of a fight. What to say next?
She wondered. Then it came to her. “Fight on Drace. You have a strong arm and a strong horse. I’m trying to help you and you have Arahtok on your side. He stands behind you. That will make Zakar afraid. He will make a mistake and you can defeat him.”

Now give him time to fight. Don’t rush him or he’ll screw up,
Maggie thought.

Drace came awake with a yell, like a battle cry, and stared into startled green eyes, his own out of focus. He panted for breath.

Maggie gave a small squeak and rocked back on her heels. She scurried to the empty side of the bed and got up on her knees.
“Did you kill him?”

Drace woke up. “What?”

“Did you slay Zakar?”

Drace blinked a couple of times, confused that she knew what he had just dreamed. He suddenly realized he had felt her there all along. He lay back down, willing his pulse to slow.

Maggie reached up to smooth the hair off his face. “Did you defeat Zakar?” she asked again.

“Yeah. I killed him. He disappeared after I killed him, like smoke.” Drace shivered. “I’m cold, Maggie, so cold.”

Not knowing what else to do, she climbed under the covers and scooted next to him. He wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer to him. She didn’t know why he was cold, because his big body was sure putting out some heat. Then she felt him relax against her. “I’m really tired,” he said, his voice thick with fatigue.

“Go back to sleep,” Maggie whispered. “I’ll keep watch.”

“I know you will, Maggie, I know.”

He was out in seconds.

Any doubts she had had on his story tonight vanished. Maggie lay for some time listening to the steady beating of Drace’s heart under her cheek. At that moment she disliked Ki Lionblade, but at the same time she envied her the man.
Ki could go straight to hell if she didn’t like it.

 

 

D
race woke to the smell of coffee and bacon. He buried his face into the soft pillow, not feeling ready to get out of bed yet and caught the scent of some flowery perfume in the pillowcase

It took him a moment to get oriented and as he did, the previous night’s events came back to him. “Oh boy,” he muttered into the pillow. Resigning himself to his fate, whatever that might be, he pushed out of bed. He dressed in his trousers and shirt and then went down the hall to the kitchen.

Maggie stood by the stove, working on an omelet. There was a legal tablet covered with hastily scrawled notes next to a cup of coffee. Drace glanced at it as he went by the table. He read the last few lines and found they were notes on the dream fight with Zakar. He raised an eyebrow at one of her theories. “You think the gods are playing some kind of game with me, winner gets what, my soul?”

Maggie turned from the stove, spatula in hand. “Oh, hey. Coffee pot’s over there.” She pointed the spatula in the pot’s direction on a counter. “What do you take in it?”

“Black,” he replied, looking her over. She was down right sexy in a pair of faded jeans and a loose Old Navy sweatshirt. He would bet money she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Maggie flushed at his perusal and turned back to the stove. Drace came to stand close behind her, looking over her shoulder at her skillet. “Mmm, that smells great,” he said, then sniffed at her hair.
“You
smell great.”

Maggie tried to ignore the singing heat that rushed through her at his words. She cleared her throat as she cut off the eye of the stove. “I hope you don’t mind breakfast for lunch,” she said after sliding the skillet to a back burner. She turned and looked up at him, and froze at his expression.

His eyes were soft and he had a half smile aimed at her. His dark hair was in wild disarray and he had a morning beard darkening his tanned face.

Tension and heat hung heavy between them for a moment. Finally, Drace broke the spell by turning and going for coffee. “What time is it?” he asked, his back to her as he poured.

Maggie glanced at the clock on the microwave. “A little after twelve,” she told him, and went to get plates. She gave him the lion’s share of the omelet and bacon. “I can make some toast if that’s not enough,” she said, setting his plate on the table.

“No, I’m fine, thank you.” He took the seat in front of the plate. “I didn’t realize I’d slept so late. You should have gotten me up.”

Maggie sat across from him at the table. “You had a rough night. I thought you probably could use the rest.”

Drace held his fork over his plate as he thought of what he wanted to tell her. “Maggie, I…,”

Maggie stopped him before he could finish. “Why don’t you eat first then we’ll talk. I’ve got some questions for you to help me get some clearer pictures.”

They ate in silence then Drace helped her with the dishes. They sat back at the table with another cup of coffee.

“You’ve been busy,” Drace commented, tapping the notepad with a finger. “How long have you been up?”

“I don’t know. Since around nine I think.” She blushed and then blurted in confession, “It felt so good to wake up next to you.”

Color stained Drace’s cheeks as well. “I was glad you were there, Maggie.” He toyed with his cup. “Something happened last night in the dream I had. You were present somehow, but I can’t figure it out. I dreamt I was fighting Zakaras, but I don’t know why. Then something told me to find Pride and go after the leader. It was Zakar himself. Then I saw Arahtok, and he watched me—encouraged me.” Drace lifted his gaze to meet hers. “And there was you. You were like an angel beside me and I knew I could defeat Zakar then. I felt invincible. When I ran my sword into him, he changed into a wolf and then he was gone. Something came over me then. A sense of being freed, I think. It was like Zakar had a hold on me and that hold was severed.”

“From my research, lesser gods seem to have a preference of causing problems in more subtle ways. Gods of evil or mischief…of the underworld and such. The results can be every bit as devastating. I think Zakar is very afraid of Arahtok to do anything permanent to you. It would seem you have found favor with Arahtok. Zakar is probably pissed at his bother for you coming onto the scene and messing up his plans for chaos.

“Anyway, if Zakar can either make you a touch unstable or maybe upset with Ki, so you wouldn’t want to go back, then he wins because then you’re not Arahtok’s ready servant anymore.”

“So, did I really kill Zakar in the dream or what?”

Maggie played with a loose red curl. “Yes, and no.”

“Care to explain that cryptic answer?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.

“I believe you really defeated him. In a dream state is the only way he may be able to get directly to you. But he is a god, therefore immortal in a sense. So, no, you may not be rid of him. But I’d wager you’re free from him, at least for now.”

“Interesting theories, Miss Shaffer.”

“Thank you. I’d really like to hear your story again. Especially the legend of the Arahtok and the Werre.”

Drace leaned forward and captured her hands between his. “I’d be happy to, but I think I’d really like to go back to my hotel, grab a shower and shave and some different clothes. Okay?”

Maggie nodded.

“Why don’t you come with me? I brought some things with me you might be interested in seeing.”

“Oh you have some things I’ll like to see, alright,” she jested, causing Drace to raise an eyebrow at her quip.

“Sorry,” she apologized. “I couldn’t help myself. You have that effect on me.”

“I’m not totally immune to you either, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Thanks for breakfast,” he said after her finished dressing. “Maggie, I don’t know what to say to make up for last night. I didn’t mean to hurt you and I’m very sorry if I have.”

Maggie put a finger to his lips. “For someone I’ve just met, I feel as if I’ve known you a long time. And knowing what I know now, I find you rather gallant—after all, I started things last night. I won’t lie and tell you I’m not disappointed that things didn’t go further. I can settle for what time I did have, but,” she added. “If you get dumped, let me know, okay?”

Drace laughed gently, wishing he hadn’t noticed the shine of tears in her green eyes. Understanding she needed a moment to collect herself, he leaned down to give her a quick kiss on her lips. “I’ll go warm up the truck while you gather your things.”

Maggie met him at his truck a few minutes later armed with her notepad.

They made casual conversation on the way to Drace’s hotel. Once at his room, Maggie flipped the TV onto the History Channel while Drace showered and shaved.

He emerged a short while later in faded Levis, towel drying his hair. Rummaging in his duffel bag, he pulled out a white Henley shirt and slid it over his head and then sat at the little table with her. He pulled a comb and a couple small rubber bands out of his back pocket and set to work on his hair.

Maggie had him start his story again, filling in gaps in her notes as he went, asking the occasional question. Finally, he had her distracted enough with the braid he was working on that she had to stop.

“What?” he asked, looking up from the end of his braid and the rubber band he had just put on it. He had done a narrow braid on either side of his face and was gathering them at the back of his head, banding them together loosely.

“I’ve never seen a man braiding his hair before. It’s interesting.”

“Why?” Drace asked, laying his comb on the table.

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