Deceiver's Bond: Book Two of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life (34 page)

We overtook the vessel not five minutes later. I dropped us down on the stern sundeck, in the emptiest location I could find. “Hopefully no one will bump into us here,” I said, looking around. A young hip-looking Asian couple stood shoulder-to-shoulder, admiring the view, no more than three yards away.

“They won’t.”

Freed from his embrace, I clasped my cold-pained ears between my gloved fingers and tried to rub some warmth back into them. It was a relief to get out of the headlong wind, although, even at the rear of the ship, we both still fought to keep random strands of hair from blowing into our eyes.

I studied Kieran’s confident expression. “You sound sure.”

“Yes. My shadow is not inviting.”

“A repulsion spell?”

He shrugged. “If you like.”

I straightened my jacket and rotated my purse so it rested comfortably against my hip. “Your shadow can also reflect magic, can’t it?”

“Yes, if I will it.” He looked momentarily puzzled and then nodded. “Ah. At the time, I wondered why you fell.”

I narrowed my eyes at his expression and stopped just short of sticking my tongue out at him. “You don’t have to look so smug about it.”

I could tell he was trying not to smirk. I smacked his arm with the back of my hand and was rewarded with his deep laugh. It did delightful things to my insides, which I was definitely not dwelling on. Smiling, I propped my forearms on the deck’s railing and admired the view that had stacked up behind us. The Seattle skyline cut a familiar silhouette against the gray sky, the fifteen-mile expanse of deep-blue water underlining the distance we’d just covered.

I turned toward him, leaning my left hip against the railing. “Twenty-seven hundred years under your belt and you never learned to swim?”

He shrugged dismissively and gazed out over the sound. “Ours is a desert world. Fresh water is not wasted on swimming pools.”

“Haven’t you’ve visited Earth often? In all that time, it’s never come up?” I might have dropped the subject, except I took a small but perverse delight in needling him.

“Learning to swim is a pastime for human children.”

“That’s not true. My father didn’t learn to swim until after I was born. He took lessons the same time my sister and I did. There are adult classes, believe it or not.”

The subtle curve at the left side of his mouth relayed his amusement at this idea. “You have a sister. Older or younger?”

“Older, by four years. She lives in California with her husband and two kids.”

“Any other siblings?” he asked.

“No.”

Eyes attentive and openly curious, he turned to study me. “And what of your parents?”

“They’re both deceased.” Before he could pose another question, I asked, “What about you? Do you have siblings?”

“Yes. A younger sister.”

“Yeah? How much younger?” I braced myself for hearing something like, ‘Oh, nine hundred years, give or take.’

He looked at me askance, probably because I had a sock-it-to-me-now expression on my face, but he answered, unperturbed, “By your reckoning, she is approximately fifty of your Earth years my junior.”

“I figured you were going to say something closer to a thousand.” I shot him a wry smile. “I guess I’m finding the whole age thing a little bizarre.”

Sure, there were vampires as old as he was, but the only vampires I’d known personally I’d gone to school with and they’d been near my chronological age.

“That’s refreshing,” he observed. “Most human women I’ve encountered have expressed little interest in knowing such things.”

“I find that hard to believe.” At his offended frown, I hastily amended, “What I mean is: That surprises me.”
So touchy.
I firmly tucked my hair behind my left ear. “If they don’t want to know about your background, then what
do
they ask about?”

“Usually, they want to know what I do for a living. Whether I’m a model or an actor. Where I live. Whether I own a house and what kind of car I drive. If I go to a gym.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Then they proceed to tell me about their accomplishments, what they do for a living, which exclusive school they attended, how often they take
aerobics
.” He laced the final word with distaste.

Aerobics, huh? Kieran mentioned he hadn’t explored at length since 1958, but clearly he’d visited for shorter periods since then. Maybe as recent as the 80s or 90s. Did he and his compatriots frequent nightclubs to pick up women, or what? I tried to picture him doing such a thing and failed.

I replied, “That’s because they don’t realize you’re not human.”

“Perhaps.” As he gazed down at the water churning in the ferry’s wake, a thick lank of hair blew past his shoulder to shield his face from my view. “I think some of them do. They just don’t want to confront the possibility.” In a smooth, unconscious movement, he slipped his hair back behind his shoulder and considered me. “It’s easier to ignore it, to pursue immediate gratification over substance. To … go with the flow. Is that not the expression?”

“Yeah.” I sighed. “I guess we live in a pretty superficial, materialistic society compared to yours, huh?”

“In some ways, yes. But we’re not without our own problems.”

“Such as?”

He shrugged. “Rigid class distinctions made more inflexible by the length of our lives. Families desperately clinging to the past, unwilling to embrace change or view things from a different perspective. Long memories attuned to past conflict.”

“Heavy stuff.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yes.” Again, the amused smile.

I tilted my head. “Will you tell me about your wife? Or is that too personal?”

“She’s a part of my past. Of course it’s personal.” He kept a small smile, mellowing what sounded like a rebuff, and replied, “She was a commoner and uncommonly beautiful. From our first moment together, we knew our destiny was to be together.” He looked thoughtful before turning away to stare out at the water. “My family disagreed. We had just eighty-seven seasons together before she was killed in an earthquake.”

“Oh.” I examined his profile, trying to gauge his mood. “Was that … a long time ago?”

“To you, yes. Nearly two thousand years. My main regret is that we never had children.”

I almost asked whether he’d fathered human children, but decided the question would be crass after hearing about his wife, who he obviously remembered fondly.

“What was she like? What did she look like?”

His expression softened. As he looked out past the railing, I imagined it wasn’t the water or the receding skyline he was seeing. He replied, “She was tall and fair with curly brown hair and stunning green eyes. Even now, in memory, her eyes are the feature most people remark upon. Green eyes are quite rare for sidhe. Her kindness is the quality for which she is most remembered. In all the years I knew her, she never spoke a harsh word against anyone. She had a natural ability to understand and appreciate the unique perspective of everyone around her. She was … a treasure.”

Wow.
I could only hope that someday I might love a man who would speak as highly of me when asked. For a moment, I wasn’t sure whether I could trust my voice. I smiled. “Sounds like she was lovely. Thanks for telling me about her.”

His gaze flicked to the side to regard me briefly. He nodded. “You are welcome.”

“You told me your standing, your rank, was complicated. Is that because of your marriage? Did your family disown you or something?”

“Yes.”

“Serving the King, though, being Maeve’s bodyguard … that sounds like a prestigious position. No?”

“Yes, although, I suppose even that is complicated.” He straightened, placing his hands on the railing, and then considered me. “Maeve is my cousin.”

Uh, oops.
And here I’d been calling her a bitch, left and right. “Oh … uh, sorry,” I mumbled.

He gave me a sidelong look. “I don’t see any reason for you to be remorseful. She is my cousin, not yours.”

“I know. It’s just … I’ve not had much good to say about her and I, well …” I ducked my shoulders and stopped myself before I succumbed to the urge to say sorry again.

He laughed. “You haven’t said anything I haven’t thought myself. Often, in fact. You have no reason to apologize.”

After his comment about his wife never having a harsh word for anyone, his confession didn’t go as far in reassuring me as it might have. “If Maeve’s your cousin, then the King and your father are brothers?”

“No. Maeve and I are cousins removed by one generation. King Faonaín and my father’s father were brothers.”

“Your grandfather then. He’s deceased?”

“Yes. He died many seasons ago, before the rift.”

“Rift?”

He nodded. “The time in history when our people split into two factions and fell to war.” He blew out a breath. “You were not wrong about your earlier assessment of the sidhe. There are many who believe, like King Faonaín, that humanity is beneath contempt and should be eliminated along with the demons. The Amhaín and her followers, however, believe humankind is worth saving. For nearly two millennia, there has been a fragile truce, struck between the estranged siblings and the telepaths. Until now, it’s been the only thing forcing the King’s restraint.”

“Siblings? I don’t understand. What siblings?”

“King Faonaín and his sister, Geiléis, the Amhaín. She is the last remaining portal adept. Without her skills, our supply of magic would have dwindled long ago. The truce is in place because she had the power to force the King’s hand, but it is just a matter of time before the King finds his own adept. Once that happens, it will disrupt the balance of power.”

I couldn’t help wondering where Kieran’s loyalties aligned. With the King? Or with his sister, the Amhaín? He’d sworn allegiance to the King, yet he didn’t seem entirely happy with his position. He also seemed to dislike Maeve. Although, it might be more precise to say he disliked Maeve’s directive to bond with me. Did he dislike that idea solely because I’m human? Or because he objected to the notion of bonding with someone he didn’t love? Or maybe both? He had nothing good to say about the human women he’d encountered over the years. On the other hand, our recent discussions had led me to think he had some respect for me. At least, he wasn’t looking down his nose at me at every waking moment.

I finally realized he was staring at me, puzzled.

“What is making you think so very hard?” he asked.

I shrugged and looked away, adjusting my purse strap at my shoulder. “You said Maeve wanted to punish you.” I slid my gaze back to his face. “Why?”

He considered me for a long moment before responding. “She is angry that I refused to bond with another prominent family’s daughter. She wanted to tie our houses more closely and decided it was the most effective means at her disposal to do so.”

“I don’t understand. Why could you refuse that order but not this one? She must know you wouldn’t willingly bond with a human.”

He grunted. “Because bonding with the sidhe woman wasn’t an order, it was a request. She didn’t dare order such a thing, for fear the family would discover her manipulation. With regard to you, however, Maeve has no such encumbrance.”

“And as long as you refuse the order, you’re stuck here.”

He tipped his head in acknowledgment.

“Can’t you appeal to the King?” I asked. “With his view on humans, surely he’d be sympathetic.”

Was it insane to be discussing such outright bigotry without hardly blinking an eye? The whole thing was surreal. Although, spending my entire life being feared and abhorred by a majority of the human population no doubt contributed to my pragmatism.

“If he could be suitably convinced she is acting out of petulance …” He raised his eyebrows and shrugged before admitting, “It’s possible.”

“And what about Vince? Is that petulance too? Is she just acting out against the both of you?” Part of me thrilled at the idea. Maybe she’d only taken Vince as a means to toy with her father’s patience.

“No,” he replied, sounding certain.

“I can’t imagine the King likes part-bloods much more than humans.”

Kieran shrugged, as if to say, ‘Yes, and … your point is?’

I frowned at him. “I still don’t get it. Yeah, yeah. I know. The whole duty thing, but …
come on
. That’s the reason? With all your talk about rank and status, isn’t Vince far below Maeve’s station? Seems like the King would put the royal kibosh on that union as soon as she stepped one foot back home, breeding campaign or no.”

“You are perceptive.” Kieran eyed me thoughtfully. “Yes. This probably would have been the King’s response, if not for a divination from our oldest and most trusted oracle.”

After staring at him, aghast, I slapped my palm to my forehead. “God, no. Not another one.”

“Another what?” His disapproving tone cut through the shadowed air surrounding us. I glanced at the nearby couple to see if they’d taken notice, but they stood happily entwined in each other’s arms, oblivious to our presence.

I came away from the railing. “Another damned prophecy, that’s what. Why do you think Invisius is such a disaster? Why do you think muggers and gang bangers and sheriffs are trying to kill or maim me at every possible turn? Didn’t Daniel or Michael tell you
anything
about what’s going on?”

He glared at me. “They told me.”

“Did they tell you the Invisius divinors think I’m the one who’s supposed to make heads roll in their organization? I’m gonna shake things up, don’t you know? ‘Cuz, like, I totally give a shit about their secret club, right? And I’m such a power to be reckoned with,” I growled, glaring at him. “So, yeah. No offense to your wonderful oracle, I’m sure she’s a credit to her kind, but I have just a tiny bit of a bad attitude when it comes to prophecies since one is pretty much responsible for making my life miserable.”

Deal with it, buddy.

He narrowed his eyes. “Those who seek to subvert or alter a divination are fools. A genuine prophecy is immutable.”

“Yeah? Tell that to the Invisius bigwigs.”

He gave me a curt nod. “After bringing Kim to safety.”

“You’re just going to stroll into their headquarters and set them straight, huh?” I snorted. “Good luck with that.”