Ryder on the Storm (17 page)

Ryder stood from the bed, confused by her sudden change in demeanor. “Storm, I –“

“Save it. Where is the book I threw to you?”

Ryder feigned deep thought but realized by her facial expression that it was not helping his cause. He pulled it from the back of his jeans and handed it to her, “Right here, Storm. It is safe. What’s so important?”

She actually rolled her eyes at him. “It only holds everything we need to know to get out of this mess. Honestly, how have you made it through so many centuries?” Storm threw the blanket off and swung her feet to the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to my study to read my book and figure a way out of this that doesn’t involve my untimely death.” Storm stood and walked to her bedroom door before Ryder could register what she said and react.

“What did you just say?” He slammed the door shut as she attempted to open it. “Stop. What is going on, Storm? We are all here to help you but if you know something you need to tell us.” Ryder lowered his voice. Gods, he wanted to kiss her, to splay her out on the bed and – “Storm, please. What is happening?”

The look she turned on him was one of pure frustration. Through gritted teeth Storm answered in the most condescending voice he’d ever heard from a woman’s mouth, “I can’t tell you until I read the book and even then I am not sure you need to know.”

Ryder released his hold on the door and stepped back. He heard the seraphs snickering in the window, the flapping of their wings the only other sound. “Wait, something is wrong.” He turned to Dan and Shane who flew in to flank her, fire whips appearing in their hands.

“Have they returned?” Dan looked to Storm, “You may want to read it here.”

“If it is them, they’re faster than I gave ‘em credit for.” Shane smirked, “I am so going to enjoy this fight.”

Ryder did not think so; it could not be Jasper already, no possible way he could regroup that quickly. His phone vibrated to indicate an incoming text.

Roane is here. He says he needs to speak to the Seer. Should we bring him?

Ryder addressed the seraphs, “It is not Jasper. Another Immortal is at the gates requesting to speak with Storm. Lucian has him.” He realized his mistake as soon as the words left his mouth. Storm glared at him, her emerald eyes flaring and suddenly rimmed in gold. He reworded the statement and looked directly into her eyes, the gold rim receding slightly as he addressed her. “Storm, he wants to speak with you. Will you receive him?”

“That’s better. You all need to stop acting as if I am a fragile child. I know more than you do about what is happening so get over yourselves.” She paused and blew a hair out of her eyes. How he loved that, soft and sweet and so unbelievably sexy as she focused on blowing that one stray hair up and back. Ryder shifted his weight, now would not be a good time to go there. Storm looked up at him, jutting her chin out defiantly. “Tell Lucian that I will meet with the Immortal in my study.”

“Babe, I do not think –“ She placed a hand gently on Shane’s lips to silence him. Ryder felt jealousy flare inside him, if only she would touch his lips like that, he would pepper them with baby kisses and – stop.

“Guys, I know what I am doing. Believe me.” She finally turned to face Ryder again, without malice on her face, “What do I need to know about this particular Immortal?”

“Roane has an odd way of speaking. Most find it unsettling. I do not trust him. He has kept to himself in a monastery for the past four centuries or so. Roane does not have a friend among the Brethren though he has a seat upon our council.” Ryder wanted to say more, wanted to tell her of his mission, tell her how he felt and how badly he wanted to take her to bed and make love to her in every way he could think of. He did not. He could not. “Miss Sullivan, I believe we should all accompany you for this meeting.”

Storm looked at him with utter indifference, “Very well. I think we should lay protections on the study for all of us. We can’t have my father popping in again.”

Ryder found this take charge side of her to be even more appealing. His jeans were feeling rather snug at the moment and focusing on the situation at hand became increasingly difficult. How did she affect him so thoroughly? Storm sent Dan and Shane to gather some herbs and roots and he caught something about gathering red wine from the kitchen. Right, he needed to get the wine and meet her in the study. Ryder willed his feet to move, to leave the erotic images in his head behind, and reminded himself of the danger still lurking.

Storm nodded at him impersonally, “Tell Lucian to give us ten minutes and then bring the Immortal through the front doors.”

Storm

Pac Man joined up with her from out of nowhere. He must have been sleeping in one of the guest rooms, silly dog. The sound of his chains seemed a small comfort as they descended the stairs. She focused on their sound to suppress her cravings for Ryder. It would have been so easy to grab his hand and sneak back to her room. When she woke to him at the foot of her bed, Storm thought for a second he might make love to her then and there. But he addressed her so coldly, “Miss Sullivan.” It nearly broke her. Aunt Trin must have been very wrong about his feelings.

Once in the study, Storm tucked the journal in her waistband, under her shirt near the small of her back. Pac Man followed her in and curled up at her back as Storm sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor. She didn’t actually know if she could lay a protection spell over the Immortals but it seemed possible with a few minor alterations to the incantation. It’s not like they could die, Storm just didn’t know what talents the new Immortal might have, or when her father might decide to drop in again.

Ryder emerged first, two bottles of red wine in one arm and a bottle of water in his other hand. He handed her the water and placed the bottles of wine on the floor in front of her. She thought he wanted to say something but the Immortal remained silent for once. His presence was distracting enough but if he started to lecture her again Storm would certainly lose control. Her body seemed to be responding to him again, even though her mind worked to turn it off. She vowed to find a way to bind her emotions again when this whole mess ended. They were really nothing but trouble.

Dan and Shane walked in just then, thankfully, their wings tucked away again and their boyish smiles quite intact. At least something remained unchanged, Shane seemed to be itching for a fight and Dan appeared wary yet determined. They laid the supplies at her feet and sat on the couch behind her.

“Alright, babe, work your mojo. We’ll float you a little extra power.” She knew without looking that Shane smiled so broadly his dimples would be showing.

“Lucian will be here in a few minutes, is that enough time?” Ryder sounded skeptical. Nothing like some healthy skepticism to piss her off enough to amplify that inner glow. Storm smiled at him, not the most pleasant of grins but a knowing one.

Storm wound some of each herb together and lit them in a decorative glass bowl her mother had always loved. Oh well. She called on the powers of the ancients, whispering the rites of protection and adding in a block in illusions, finishing up with a surge of power from her glowing hands that reverberated through the room and vanished. Storm stood, blew out the flame, and moved the bowl to the desk.

“That’s it? What’s the wine for?” Storm smiled before she turned to face Ryder who just looked perplexed. Good. Ha, that will teach him. She made a show of rolling her eyes. “Really, I can’t be a bad hostess. The wine is for us to drink, Immortal. Grab some glasses from the shelf and start pouring.”

Shane began laughing and Storm found herself stifling a chuckle as she settled on the sofa beside him. They heard the front doors open and within moments a knock at the door. Storm muttered a few words and the doors swung inward allowing their visitors to enter. Lucian approached first, followed by a strange man who could only be the mystery Immortal. Two kilt-clad Immortals followed him. Storm allowed the doors to slam shut behind them. Ryder stood over her, a glass of wine in his hand.

“For you, Miss Sullivan.” Of course, the epitome of stoicism. Still, the familiar heat flared in her abdomen. It required a lot of control to force a tight nod and suppress her desire. The Scots stood behind the couch and waved off Ryder’s offer of wine. Lucian declined as well but the seraphs accepted gladly. Ryder offered wine to Roane last. Clearly a power play on his part. Storm fought a scowl and instead smiled genially at the new arrival.

“Welcome, Roane of the Immortal Brethren, to Willow Wood Manor. What is your business with me? As you can see, I am well protected so choose your words well.” Storm allowed a slight golden glow to rise in her fingertips.

“Miss Sullivan, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am grateful for the audience and hope that we can reach an agreement.” Ryder had not been kidding, Roane’s voice grated on her nerves, quite possibly the most irritating sound next to the emergency broadcasting system alert. Still, Storm fixed a pleasant smile on her face and worked to listen intently. “I know who hunts you and wish to offer my assistance in your protection detail.”

She opened her mouth to respond but Ryder beat her to it. “How do you know who hunts her? Why do you seek to protect her now when you ordered me to extinguish her earlier?” Storm turned to Ryder who had squared his shoulders and moved forward, his fists and jaw tightly clenched. “Why are you really here Roane?”

Roane turned to Ryder, his face a strange mixture of indignation and sorrow. “I do not have to convince you, Ryder. Though I understand the source of your animosity toward me, I had to know you bore her no ill will before I could trust you.” Ryder tensed further, Storm looked from her lover to her guest and back again. Roane turned to her and smiled warmly. “Miss Sullivan, I have some key information that will help you in your plight and convince you that I could never harm you.”

“Very well, Ryder, sit down. I wish to hear him out. If you cannot contain yourself then you can leave. This man is my guest and you would do well to remember that.” Ryder looked at her, shock and awe blanketing his face. It stung a bit to have him look at her in that way, as if she’d wounded him somehow. Well, no more than he’d done to her. Dammit, now she sounded childish.

Roane’s grating voice dropped to a soft whisper, “You are my granddaughter, Miss Sullivan.”

The room fell silent as everybody turned to face Roane. He in turn stared directly at Storm.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Shane broke the shocked silence. He stood and moved closer to Ryder in an effort to obstruct Roane’s view of Storm. While Shane and Ryder possessed very nice derrieres, she did not want to be eye level with them at this point in time.

Lucian chimed in; she recognized his voice though she couldn’t see him either. “I believe Roane thinks Storm to be his granddaughter, if I am reading this situation correctly.” Sarcasm, nice touch. She could definitely get along with him.

Shane and Ryder separated and turned to face her, in fact, when they moved, she realized all eyes were on her. Dammit. This could not be happening. How much more had Aunt Trin failed to tell her? Would she even find a family tree in the journal? Could things possibly get more complicated?

“She is my granddaughter if she is the child of the anomaly.” Roane’s voice took on a different quality when he spoke softly; Storm could hear emotion in it that was absent when he spoke normally. It seemed a strange thought, to be looking at her grandfather who looked younger than her father did, but somehow it fit.

One of the Scots spoke up, “How is that possible? Immortals cannot reproduce.”

“That is why my son is the anomaly, and quite dangerous.” Roane looked to Ryder, “You do not know my story, though you scorn and fear me. I once was a part of the world, once fought in wars and trained other Immortals, much like you. I took many wives in my long life, loved each of them in their own right. Then I met Damarra.”

That name seemed familiar. Storm flashed through her history lessons. “Wait, Damarra as in the Celtic fertility goddess?” Storm remembered reading about her as a teenager. Celtic lore had been one of her passions and she’d spent a good deal of time in Ireland and Scotland on her travels.

“Yes. She and I were together for a century. Then Damarra decided that she wanted a child. Of course she knew the limitations of Immortals but would not hear reason. Damarra, sweet and innocent and gentle spirited, sought aide from the witch, Morgaine, and unbeknownst to me found a way to counteract the infertility of Immortals. When I found out she was pregnant I became angry and worried about interference from the brethren. That’s why I joined the council and went to live with the monks. I had to know everything about our history and potential outcomes of what Damarra had done. I saw to Morgaine’s punishment myself when I weighed in with Arthur in his conquests and Damarra fled to the safety of the Tuatha de Danann. I heard nothing of her after that.” Roane took a deep drink from the wine glass, emptying it, and stared into the glass. “About fifty years later, I came across a village Seer, a woman with true sight. I still had not located Damarra and was desperate for answers. You see, the Tuatha de are a shifty race and they became more isolated as the world changed. So, when I found this Seer I recognized the depth of her Sight and asked for a reading. She knew me for what I am and obliged.” Roane paused. “I am sorry, could I possibly get a glass of water? I am unused to speaking so much.”