Motor City Mage (13 page)

“And can you sing?” She turned to him quizzically. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you.”

“Well, according to my grandmother,” he said, “—the woman who loved me more than anything in the world—when I sing, goats die, dogs howl and children scream.”

Lana covered her ears and laughed. “All right. I get it. No singing either.”

“See how easy I am to get along with?”

“Yeah, easy like a rash.”

“Lana, I’m touched. Are you saying I’ve gotten under your skin, or that I make you itch?” She sure as hell did both to him.

“More like a royal irritation,” she grumbled. Then she looked up at him and sighed. “All right, I’m sorry. I’ll admit, I’m getting used to your grumpy-assed self. You’re not so bad to have around. Happy?”

“I’m happy I get to share a bedroll with you tonight.” He reached out a gloved hand and tugged her close. “Come on. Let’s go find somewhere to sleep. Maybe even have a little fun first.”

“Now you’re making sense. It shouldn’t be far. I’ve got a good sense for distance.”

Sure enough, around the next bend they found a cluster of three shelters, all unoccupied. Lana made up the bedroll while Des built a fire in the metal-lined fire pit and then they each made a trip to the outhouse behind the tiny huts. They sat on their blankets and shared a meal from their backpack in comfortable silence.

Finally, Des set wards across the door of their shelter while Lana banked the coals. Then Des joined her under the covers, stunned to find her totally naked. “You can’t sleep like this. You’ll freeze to death.”

“I’m not ready to sleep yet,” she said with a sexy chuckle. “For the next few minutes, I think we can keep each other warm.”

As usual, she was right. It was much later when they put on their underclothes and crawled back under the furry blanket to sleep.

Lana felt great the following morning, though by rights she should have been stiff from sleeping on the ground. Something about hot sex before sleep, though, relaxed her to the point where she woke refreshed, regardless of the over-firm bed. When she came back in from the latrine, Des looked up at her from where he’d been studying their map and smiled, letting her know he felt the same.

“The sunrise is as pretty as the sunset,” she told him.

“Not as nice as the view from here.” His gaze took in her tousled hair, and her cloak over her under-tunic and boots. It lingered on her nipples, puckered from the cold, poking hard against her thin shift. They tightened even more as he stared.

“It’s cold out there. That is
not
an invitation.” But she grinned as she sat and picked up a mug of the tea he’d made over their fire and the bread made with dried fruit he’d sliced and set above the fire to warm.

“If all goes well today, we should make it to about here.” He pointed to a small village. As they descended out of the mountains, the towns grew closer together. “So if the timing works, we can find an inn for the night.”

Lana nodded. “I wish we spoke the language. They might even have some kind of, I don’t know, stagecoach route, or something. Or horses to rent. Even a train.”

“From what we’ve seen, the road is the primary way of travel, or they wouldn’t have the shelters and we wouldn’t have passed so many pedestrians or farm wagons yesterday.” Des rolled up the map and tucked it into his bundle along with the bedroll. “So probably no trains.”

“Damn, you’re right.” She rinsed out her metal cup with the remains of the hot water, then dried off both pan and cup and stowed them in the pack. “Well, maybe we can hitchhike if we see a wagon going in the right direction.”

Des nodded, watching intently as she donned her outer tunic and leggings, then her coat and gloves. Her hat she left hanging around her neck. Hiking made her warm. Though she couldn’t shift, her body temp was still higher than a human’s, and as they set out, the gentle sunshine felt warm and welcome, even though it was on the back of her head instead of her face.

“So, Obi-Wan,” she said, bored after the first mile or so of no talking, or singing, or even whistling. “What’s the League’s beef with my people, anyway? What’d we ever do to them to warrant the permanent stick up the ass?”

“The League doesn’t trust anybody but the League,” he said after a couple long minutes’ contemplation. “It’s an old organization, some say started in Spain during the Inquisition, some say earlier. Since the name is bastardized Welsh, I’m inclined to believe those who say we formed in Britain during the Roman occupation. Little-known fact that the Romans used wolves and other shifters as part of their army to conquer most of the known world. Witches and wizards too, from all over the empire, so with all different kinds of magic.

“When they got to the fringes of the island, Wales and Scotland, the terrain sucked and the old ways had more sway, meaning there was a higher percentage of part-blood Fae and other people with magical ability. According to legend, all these mostly human mages—druids, wizards, witches, whatever you want to call them—banded together to keep out the Romans and their magic. In fact, the Legions got so sick of their harassment, they eventually built Hadrian’s wall, and they didn’t penetrate the Welsh mountains. Every so often they’d send a band of werewolves across, as sort of a sortie, and the early
Wyndewin
would beat them back.”

“Okay, so they set themselves up as the defenders of humanity, or at least of their own local humanity against the invaders. I get that. But why not team up with the full Fae? I’d think they opposed Roman occupation as well.” She smiled at some curious children staring goggle-eyed at them from a wagon going the opposite direction. “Especially as you just said most
Wyndewin
were part-bloods to begin with.”

“Because the Fae were busy trying to chase
all
humans, and most of the mixed-bloods, out of their territory. And given the amount of power they wield—well, let’s just say there were plenty of battles there as well before they retreated almost completely Underhill, only coming to this world with a human glamour.”

“So it was the
Wyndewin
who chased the Fae Underhill?” Lana hadn’t realized their enmity was that old—or that well founded.

Des shrugged. “Partly. Advancing metallurgy had a lot to do with it. You know they still don’t much like steel and iron. The Romano-British were
big
into iron weapons. And eventually even the Celts realized that the entire island was going to be homogenized sooner or later. The influx of different tribes and people brought new religions, especially Christianity, which wasn’t very polite about its views on magic.”

“So the Fae went Underhill, literally, and the League went underground, figuratively.”

“That’s the way I understand it. The next big effort was rescuing condemned witches during the Inquisition, and there are those who claim we really began there, just re-using an older name. It gets rid of any taint of Fae background, which I think is the appeal for that particular origin story. Either way, after that the League sort of spread all over the world along with western colonization, and mages from other traditions joined in, like my mom’s ancestors in China. Again, human witches and wizards from various cultures teaming up against the rest of the paranormal world.”

“Why can’t we all just get along?” Lana shook her head. “It’s no different than human race relations. All a huge load of bullshit. And my people aren’t innocent either. My grandfather was horrible—you should have seen him when George brought home Jase. Not because they’re gay—that’s okay in the lupine community. But Jase being black? I thought the old man was going to pop an aneurism. It was way worse than when Greg mated with Fee. The old man was even more racist than he was speciesist. It’s not the whole lupine community or anything, but my grandfather was definitely a bigot of the first degree.”

“So is that part of my appeal?” He asked after a few long awkward moments. “That I’m not only
Wyndewin
, but half-Chinese? By sleeping with me, are you still sticking pins in him even though he’s dead?”

“Damn, even for a man you can be a thick-headed ass,” she grumbled, stopping to put her hands on her hips and glare at him. “That’s one hell of an insult you just lobbed at someone who’s done nothing to deserve it.”

Des returned her stare. “It seemed a valid question to me. I honestly have no idea why you have any interest in me at all. Every time I turn around, you call me a tight-assed prick. So what
is
the appeal? You don’t give it away, but you could certainly take your pick. Why sleep with me?”

“Because despite the tight-assedness, which drives me fucking bug-nuts, you’re actually a pretty nice guy, for an idiot. I can’t help liking you, in spite of my better intentions. Most of the time at least. Right now I don’t like you much at all.”

“You like me? Really?” He tipped his head to the side, his voice incredulous.

This time Lana shrugged. She didn’t just like him, she loved him. Couldn’t he see that? “Sometimes. You’re good to your sister, great to your niece, and you’ve come through for my family and friends more than once—when you didn’t have to. That says a lot.” She narrowed her eyes. “Or are you waiting to hear that you’re hung like a horse? Because I have no complaints in that department either. You’re strong, inventive and limber, which carries over to the bedroom. You also don’t skimp on making sure your partner has fun.”
There
,
that should shut him the fuck up
.

Des scrubbed at his face with his gloved hand. “Shit.”

Her eyes popped. He almost never swore. “Uh-huh.” He was in deep shit all right.

He held her gaze with his. “Look, Lana, I don’t know what brought that on. You’re right, you didn’t deserve my little tantrum. I was over the line and I’m sorry.”

Her eyes still narrowed, she gave him a grudging nod. “Fair enough. Apology accepted.” He still wasn’t getting any tonight, not without some serious groveling. She turned and started walking.

A cart had come up behind them while they argued, and the driver paused, his sort-of-horselike team halting beside them on the road. The driver said something, but they both shook their heads and held up their hands.

The green-haired man with lined, paler green skin and blue eyes grinned and pointed at the back of the cart, which appeared to be mostly stocked with barrels and crates. The cargo was strapped down, though, and there was space at the very back.

Lana beamed at the farmer, Des bowed politely and they climbed onto the back of the cart. The man made a little click and the animals started moving again.

Des and Lana looked at each other and Lana wasn’t sure which of them broke first, but pretty soon they were both laughing.

“Oddly enough,” Des said after wiping his eyes. “I think the fight is what got us the ride.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The farmer looks older than some of the others we’ve met and he had this expression of—I don’t know—amused recognition, I guess. I suspect he assumed we were an old married couple having a spat. Makes us way less threatening than a couple of random strangers.”

“You’re probably right.”

When he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, she didn’t object, but leaned back against his shoulder and let the rocking motion of the cart relax her muscles.

“For what it’s worth…” he began.

“Yes?”

“You know you’re beautiful, you know you’re talented and smart. But those qualities aren’t what draw me to you. And no, you’re no slouch in the bedroom either, if that’s what I’m supposed to say. But that’s not what gets me.” He paused, swallowed hard and then continued. “The most appealing thing about you is on the inside. For all your bravado and toughness on the outside, you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met,
chán-láng
.”

She had no idea what to say about that, so she just snuggled back against him. As groveling went, that had been pretty damned good.

“So,” he said a moment later, a suspicious crack in his voice. “Tell me more about your engineering work.”

* * *

Des watched the countryside roll by from the back of the wagon. For maybe the first time, he had the leisure to sit back and marvel at being in a different world—though he’d been Underhill, this was his first visit to any other realm. He and Lana were experiencing something most humans didn’t even know existed. It was really kind of cool, except for the almost getting killed part, and for the trouble that waited for them at home.

Catching a ride meant they gone twice as far as they’d hoped by the time the driver stopped for his noon meal on the side of the road.

Lana and Des stretched their legs and sat with him in front of one of the shelters after taking separate trips to the latrine. Lana offered the driver a piece of their fruit bread, and in turn, he shared some fresh cheese. They managed to communicate through facial expressions and hand gestures for the most part, and when Des pointed to himself and said “Des,” then pointed to Lana and said her name, the man nodded and pointed to himself. “Gurt.”

Des held out his hand and Gurt clasped wrists with him. When Lana held out her hand, Gurt just raised one green eyebrow and snorted at Des, as if sympathizing with him.

“Vin did say this was a male-dominant culture,” Des reminded her. His tone was harsh, but he used eye contact to beg her to play along.

Lana got it. She dipped her eyes and withdrew her hand. It was a good thing Gurt couldn’t understand the string of curses she uttered in a soft, conciliatory tone.

Shaking his head as if apologizing for her behavior, Des turned to Gurt and unrolled the map between them. Gurt nodded his understanding and pointed to their present position on the road.

Des dragged his finger along the road, showing where they were headed. Not too far before the portal was a bigger village, more of a city really, and Gurt indicated that he was turning south there, but would take them that far. Des nodded and handed over a couple coins, not big enough ones to make them look wealthy, not small enough to be an insult.

Gurt smiled and accepted them, indicating it was time to get back on the road. This time he invited Des to sit up in the driver’s box with him. It was tempting, but one look at Lana’s seething amber eyes told Des it wouldn’t be worth the price. Instead, he shook his head and climbed in the back with Lana.

“The good news is we should make the city by nightfall,” Des said. “That will put us almost a full day ahead of schedule.”

Lana grunted. “Good. I want out of this primitive place as soon as possible.”

“You’re going to let one sexist demon get you down?” he teased. She was adorable when she was grumpy. “I thought wolves were pretty male-dominant too. Shouldn’t you be used to it by now?”

“Why the hell do you think I left home at eighteen?” she snarled. “I’m my parents’ only child. The old man’s only granddaughter, and I grew up a spoiled-rotten princess, but more sheltered than most human girls. It was so suffocating I thought I’d die. The minute I was out of high school, I was gone. Greg and George were never as bad as the others. Sure, they’re protective, but they never assumed I couldn’t do something just because I have boobs.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty smart for a couple of furballs.” He lobbed that one at her like a softball, high and easy.

It must have been just the right touch, because Lana forgot her aggravation and laughed. “They do okay. But you can’t tell them I said that.”

“Likewise.” He put his arm around her and pulled her back against him. “Unless…if we don’t both make it back, let them know, okay? Tell them that even though I stink at showing it, I’ve considered them my friends.”

She sniffed. “Don’t. Just don’t talk like that. We’re going to be home tomorrow morning. And Des—they know. Trust me. They feel the same.”

“Thanks.” He held her for a while, breathing in the scent of her hair. Even without being able to wash much last night, she still smelled good. Musky, with faint spicy overtones, not floral or fussy. He noticed her humming under her breath, then she seemed to catch herself and stopped.