Shadow Rising (23 page)

The trees were dense, and their sweet maple scent was rich on the breeze. It smelled like it might have rained recently. The air was clean and the ground, dewy when she shifted her feet. The sound of a car traveling down the road broke the idyllic sense that they were all alone in some forgotten part of the country.

“Where are we?”

“Upstate New York, in a town called Mercés.”

“Mercés—as in Julian’s last name, Mercés?”

“He stopped using that name here long ago. Most people had the same reaction you did. Julian and I used to visit this town when it was first being settled, but now they have a diner and a small hotel. No one will know we’re here. We should be as safe as in any room on the island. Come.”

He took her hand and moved them in the direction of the road. Before they broke from the protective covering of trees, Gavin unzipped the bag and withdrew a shirt. After setting the bag in the leaves, Kara watched as he pulled the black Henley over his head. Even covered, the muscles of his torso and arms were plainly visible through the taut fabric.

It was surreal to have Gavin standing in front of her again—watching him do something as mundane as dressing—after he’d walked out on her so abruptly. No explanation. No card with apologies. Not even a flippin’ text message that said
C-ya
.

For Julian’s sake, she might have agreed to let Gavin’s absence go with no questions asked, but he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed if he thought a woman could overlook a betrayal like that.

When Gavin finished dressing, he picked up the bag and reached for Kara’s hand again, but she started down the road as if he hadn’t offered it. If they were going to have to kill time until tomorrow night when Julian showed up again, they had to get a few things straight. And the first one was that Kara wasn’t going to be palling around with him like his new bestie.

A quarter mile down the road, the lights of a diner came into view. At the sight of the flashing
fresh pie
sign, Kara’s stomach rumbled. “We’ll have you fed before you know it,” Gavin said.

“The hours posted on the window say they close at midnight, and it’s five ’til,” Kara pointed out. They’d lost three hours in flashing to the East Coast.

“It won’t be a problem.”

He held the door open for her, and she entered first. A few people looked their way, as if surprised, then went back to finishing their meals. That was the trouble with trying to stay on the down-low with Gavin—six-foot-seven musclemen with wheat-blond hair and angelic features didn’t exactly blend in naturally.

They found a booth in the corner and slipped into the worn red vinyl. An old jukebox was playing
Blue Bayou
in the background, and it didn’t do anything to help Kara’s somber mood. Gavin glanced up at the silver-haired waitress as she approached them, then he seemed to sink into his seat. “Hellfire.”

Kara went on red alert, her gaze darting around the restaurant. “What is it?”

The waitress put two menus on the table, but she never shifted her gaze from Gavin’s face. “Sweet Jesus,” she breathed. “You look just like a man I used to know. He used to come in here with his friend.”

“Nice to meet you—” Gavin glanced at her nametag and seemed to study the print, “—Lily. This is our first time here, so we’ll need a moment to look over the menus.”

Her face was softly lined and her form slender. She looked to be in her early sixties. “Gavin,” she said quietly, as if she was talking to herself. “His name was Gavin.”

“Lily.” His voice was a soft command as the muscles in his jaw and forearms flexed. She met his eyes and their gazes held. “You’ve never seen me before. I don’t look a thing like the man you used to know. Do you understand?”

Kara felt the steady power flowing from him into their waitress. After a moment, Lily blinked. “The Monday-night special was meatloaf, but we don’t have much left for the late-night crowd. I would recommend any of the house specials on page three of your menus, and of course, we serve breakfast anytime. I’ll be back in a minute to take your order.”

When she walked back into the kitchen, Kara gaped at Gavin. “What just happened?”

“She recognized me.”

“Yeah, I picked that part up. Why didn’t you just admit you remembered her?”

He lowered his voice. “Because I last spent time with her more than thirty years ago.”

“Spent time? Like you were intimate?”

Gavin sighed so deeply, it sounded as if he shouldn’t have any air left in his lungs to speak. “Intimate. Yes.”

Why the hell should she care if he screwed some lady thirty years ago? But she did. Hell, they could have done it on this very table, for all she knew. With flared nostrils, Kara pulled some napkins out of the dispenser and scrubbed them over her side of the booth. When she was done, she crumpled them and opened her menu. “Well, you’ve eaten here before. What’s tasty? On the menu, I mean.”

Gavin closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “The meatloaf is best, but the chicken-fried steak is good, too.”

“Ah.” Kara continued to peruse the menu with singular focus.

“This isn’t the first time she’s remembered me, by the way. It’s nothing to worry over.”

“So the—” she couldn’t very well call it a
mind-fuck
in public, “—
wiping
doesn’t last long?”

He rolled his shoulders, as if to ease the tension. “It lasts. But if you noticed, I told her I don’t look like him. I never told her to forget the original memory.”

“Why not? Wouldn’t that be easier?”

“It would be. But I don’t like taking a piece of someone that way. At the end of the day, sometimes our memories are all we have left.”

Kara looked up at the melancholy sadness in his voice and was surprised to see him staring at her with what she could only describe as anguished longing. “Why did you go, Gavin?”

She could have kicked herself with a spiky boot for letting the hurt-soaked words cross her lips, but she was saved from his reply when Lily came to take their order before bustling back to the kitchen.

“Kara—”

No. She didn’t want to hear it. He’d agreed to help Julian, and that was all that mattered. “You wanted to know what’s been happening, well, I’ll tell you. Now is as good a time as any.”

He nodded, his expression resigned. “Go on.”

“Basically, two things—well, a hell of a lot of things, but you’ll be pretty much up to speed with two. The first one is that Abbey’s brand hasn’t healed.”

“I’m sorry. I did hear about that, but I wasn’t able to consult any healers during my time in the Shadowland.”

The Shadowland? Well, that explained at least one stop he’d made in the past couple months. “Her grandma was working on spells. Some helped at first, but it always opened back up.”

“The branding energy Gable used on her isn’t meant for the mortal.”

“I can see that.” Though she couldn’t see why any immortal would be too thrilled with the idea of being branded either.

“So anyhow, back to my story… You’re not going to believe this, but Abbey’s uncle Claudius happens to be the flippin’ witchy
high priest of the northwestern hemisphere
!
”

“Yes, I know.”

Gavin’s expression remained unchanged, and it was all Kara could do not to throw a napkin at him. “How could you know that?”

“How could I not? There are four major covens, and I make it my business to know who any potential enemies may be. The rumors on Abbey are that she’ll never take control of the coven and is no threat. Even if she wanted to take her place on the council, Claudius has firm control of the Northwestern Coven and little interest in his niece.”

“That might have been true, but he’s definitely taking an interest in her now. It would be a good thing, I guess, if he hadn’t decided that because I’m the one who got Abbey mixed up with the Demiáre, I had to be the one to get her fixed.”

His gaze narrowed on her face. “What did he recommend?”

“The blood of a black-wing.”

Gavin growled and his grip tightened on his fork. “I understand this is for Abbey, but I wouldn’t rush to put Aniliáre blood in the hands of the witches. Even if it were a plausible idea, which I highly doubt, how do you expect to obtain the blood of the spirits?”

“That brings me to my second point. I happen to be BFFs with a certain black-wing. He hasn’t exactly said yes, yet. But I’m hoping he will.”

Gavin nodded, but it seemed more in exasperation than agreement. “Okay, I see we’re going to have to revisit this later. Now tell me why those witches were at your apartment tonight and why you didn’t call us sooner.”

They paused when Lily brought out their food, but as soon as she went off to check on another table, Kara dug into her chicken-fried steak as if she hadn’t eaten in days. “I have no clue why. Claudius showed up at my place this morning, and I really do get the feeling, no matter how much he hates me, that he wants that blood. Killing me, capturing me, even—” she forked a big bite into her mouth and barely squeezed the words out as she chewed, “—seems like it would be counterproductive.”

“Perhaps. Has he said anything else?”

Crap. Here goes.
“Only that I forfeit my life for him to use any way he sees fit if I can’t get the blood.”

Gavin’s eyes widened, then he laughed, so deep in his belly that most of the patrons glanced his way to see what was so funny. His smile was dangerous as he lowered his head to come eye to eye with Kara across the table. “Are you telling me that he directly threatened you—a lady of the Mercury Clan?”

“I might have told him I didn’t belong to a clan. I didn’t want to get you guys involved.”

His body went tense, every muscle in his neck cording under the skin. “I vow on my mother’s grave, if he so much as touches one hair on your head, I will destroy him. I will rain down death from one end of his territory to the other. No witch will remain standing when the Mercury Clan is done with them.”

His knuckles were white and his hands in tight fists. She patted his hand, then quickly drew hers back. “Calm down. I’ve got this covered. And besides, I absolutely forbid you to make any move against the Northwestern Coven. We’re not only talking about Abbey’s people here, we’re talking about helping Abbey. I’ll do whatever it takes to get a cure for her. She’s my best friend, Gavin.”

“Allow me to talk this over with Claudius. I can clear up any confusion as to whom you belong.”

“I don’t belong anywhere. I thought I might…but that ended the day you walked away.”

“Please, princess—”

“No. I’ll allow you to help me for now—hell, I’m grateful for the help—but this is for Julian. Once he’s safe, I’m finished with you and your clan.”

His lips parted in what looked like shock. “I know you’re upset with me, but you can’t mean that.”

“I’m sorry, but I do. I wasn’t made for life in a clan. Jaxon and Abbey are all the family I need. You kept your word to my father to find me, but what decision I make after that is my own.”

Kara glanced down at her plate and cut another bite of meat. How could she feel guilty about this when Gavin was the one who’d walked away? Couldn’t he see that her life had been just fine until the Demiáre had gotten involved? She didn’t regret Jaxon being in her life, but the rest was a mess. Look where it had gotten her. Look where it had gotten Abbey.

They didn’t talk through the rest of dinner. Gavin seemed to have sunken in on himself. It was strange how such a big, healthy man could look as if he were wasting away before her eyes.

He paid the bill, and Kara followed him out the door of the diner and down a tree-lined street. The branches of the trees were clearly visible, but the ground beneath them was hidden in leaves. The local drugstore was closed, but the next building they passed had a
vacancy
sign flickering red, off and then on again.

“They should have replaced that light years ago,” Gavin said.

Kara just nodded, but she wasn’t sure he even saw her. She wrapped her hands more tightly around her middle, pulling Julian’s sweater snug against her skin. It was a hell of a lot colder in New York than in San Diego. She wasn’t meant for climates where a person could see her breath.

When Gavin opened the door to the hotel, a bell jingled softly against the glass. A young woman stepped out from the back room and smiled. “Welcome to the Westwood Inn. How can I help you?”

Gavin frowned. “Westwood Inn? It’s changed names since the last time I was here.”

The young woman smiled, but she looked more interested in getting an eyeful of Gavin than talking about her place of employment. “We have new owners. They’ve done a full renovation. Will you be needing two rooms for the night?”

“Yes—” Kara replied.

But her word was swallowed up by Gavin’s emphatic, “No.”

The attendant’s gaze went from Kara to Gavin, and Kara could see the wheels turning in her head, probably wondering if that meant Gavin was available. “It’s all right, Gavin. I can pay for my own room.”

Just as soon as he could flash back to the apartment and retrieve her purse.

His jaw hardened to stone. “One room. Two beds. Do you have two king beds available?”

“Sorry. Only double beds in our regular rooms. But the suites have a living room and two bedrooms with a king-sized bed in each.”