Refuge (17 page)

I wasn’t sure I could handle direct contact
so soon after the last time I touched him, so I tried for something
passive first. I let my power infuse the air around us, like I did
when calming an animal, and pushed it toward Desmund. He never
faltered in his playing and looked completely unaffected so I
turned it up. Nothing.
Well, it was worth a try.
I looked down at where our
arms touched, separated by his sleeve. Time for a more direct
approach.

I let my power flow to the arm touching
Desmund’s, but I hesitated before I attempted to push it into him.
I had to prepare myself mentally to face what might come. Even if I
could not help him, there was still the chance that this would open
me up to his illness even more than touching his skin. I remembered
the cold, vileness of the Hale witch in my mind and suppressed a
shudder. Steeling myself, I sent my power into him. I felt the
warmth of his body as I pushed inside, then I felt a heartbeat, and
the unmistakable glow of life that every living creature
possesses.

My exultation at feeling his life force was
quickly drowned by the cold wave of nausea that swept over me and
left me silently gasping for breath.
God, how does he bear it?
I had to force
myself to not pull away, to stay and endure the feel of the
repulsive magic living inside him. Any uncertainty I had about how
Hale witches hurt their victims was swept away and replaced by
outrage. Instead of simply striking at someone in battle, they
actually left a piece of their magic behind to fester and torment
their victims. What made a person’s soul so dark they would inflict
endless suffering on another?

Desmund’s arm jerked slightly, and I felt
another presence stir inside him.
Shit!
I pulled my power back until it
barely touched him. I had completely forgotten about his Mori. I
doubted it would like my power any more than other demons did. The
fact that I had my own demon was not lost on me, but I’d have to
sort out how that worked later. Right now, I needed to figure out
how to reach the witch’s magic without upsetting Desmund’s Mori,
and that was easier said than done.

If the mountain won't come to Muhammad . . .

As soon as the idea formed in my head, I knew
it was the right one, even if it freaked me out more than a little.
I almost shuddered at the thought of that horrible magic inside me
again, but it made sense to try to pull it into me where I could
fight it with my power. If it was even possible to draw it out of
Desmund. I had no idea how the magic would behave if it had access
to another host, and confronting it wouldn’t be the same as
battling a Hale witch because there was no sentient presence to
fight against. This magic had lived inside Desmund for a very long
time, saturating every cell like a cancer. I wasn’t foolish enough
to believe I could eradicate it as easily as I’d defeated the Hale
witch, but maybe I could weaken it a little and ease some of
Desmund’s suffering.
There’s only one way to find out.

I tried to steel myself for what was to come,
but I knew it would not be enough. Even though I had told Tristan I
wasn’t afraid of Hale witches, I still abhorred their magic, and I
already felt unclean just being near it. I pushed my power toward
Desmund just enough to touch the swirling coldness inside him, and
instead of putting up a barrier to protect me, I opened myself to
the magic, calling it to me. It did not take long for the dark
magic to begin moving toward a new potential host. I had to force
myself not to jerk away and to clamp my lips together so I did not
cry out when it trickled from Desmund into me like a cold slimy
sludge. My heart sped up and sweat broke out on my upper lip as the
magic invaded my body. It took every ounce of my strength to keep
my power back except for the small tendril that lured the foul
magic into me. Nausea twisted my stomach until I knew I was going
to throw up if I endured it for one second longer.

My body trembled as I closed the connection
between me and Desmund and pulled back until an inch separated us.
I fought the urge to retch and opened my power, letting it sweep
through me like a cleansing fire. There was no scream like the time
I fought the witch, and the magic didn’t even fight as my power
burned it away to nothing. My power receded leaving me only
slightly nauseous, which all things considered, was a vast
improvement over how I felt a moment ago.

Desmund finished the piece with a flourish
and smiled at me. I had not been able to take all the magic from
him, but it had to have helped him a little. Was I imagining it, or
did he look more relaxed than he had when I arrived?

“That was pretty,” I said, searching his
handsome face for any changes. He did look a little happier, but
that could just be the joy he got from his music.

“Pretty?
You don’t call Schubert
pretty
.” He sighed in mock
aggravation. “I see I have my work cut out with you, little
one.”

His playful words made hope spark inside me.
The Desmund from a few days ago would have scowled at me and even
showed disdain over my ignorance. Was it possible that I really had
lessened his pain?

“You keep playing like that and you will
spoil me for other music.” I touched the cool keys, still amazed
that he could draw such incredible notes from them.

“Would you like to learn to play? I can teach
you.”

I laughed, touched by his offer. “God, no. I
tried to play the flute back in elementary school before I
discovered I’m tone deaf. I’d much rather spend the time listening
to you play.”

“As you wish.” His eyes sparkled with
pleasure, and he began to play another piece. We spent the next
hour like that, with him playing and me listening. There was no
need for conversation, and an easy companionship grew between us.
For a while I was able to forget my homesickness and my dread of
tomorrow.

It took me a few minutes to realize I felt
only slightly tired from my healing. Considering the amount of
power I had used, I should have felt more drained than I did. It
confirmed my suspicions that my elemental power was growing as Aine
said it would. I didn’t know what that meant for me, but if it gave
me more healing power, then it couldn’t be a bad thing.

“It is late, you should be in bed,” Desmund
said, interrupting my thoughts. “Tristan will not be pleased with
me if I keep you up all night and you fall asleep in training
tomorrow.”

I made a face. “Don’t remind me.”

“You don’t like training?”

“Do the words ‘I suck at it’ mean anything to
you? And now Tristan has decided to torture me by making me train
with Nikolas.”

Desmund smiled. “Ah, Nikolas.”

“Do you know him?”

He chuckled. “Nikolas and I go way back.” His
tone told me the two of them were not exactly friends. “Most women
would be happy to spend time with him.”

“Not me. He’s always trying to tell me what
to do, and I swear he does things just to bug me.” I tapped one of
the keys and an angry note resonated. “He acts like I’m totally
helpless, and he gets all uptight if there is the slightest hint of
danger. Okay, maybe he had reason to worry a month ago, but not
since I came here.”

“Nikolas always did take this vocation very
seriously.”

“I’d say. He got so mad one time when I got
hurt by a crocotta that he went into some kind of rage. At least
that’s what Chris called it.”

Desmund’s eye widened. “A rage? Is that
so?”

“Yes,” I said with a moan. “How am I supposed
to train with someone like that?”

He was quiet for a long moment, and his next
words surprised me. “I think you just have to trust that Tristan
knows what he is doing.”

“How can you say that? Tristan knows how I
feel about Nikolas, and I bet he knows what Nikolas thinks of me,
too.”

“I’m sure he does.” He stood and held his arm
out like a gentleman. I took his arm, and he led me to the top of
the stairs. “As much as I enjoy your delightful company, you need
to get your rest for tomorrow.”

“You know, this is so not what I signed up
for.”

Desmund laughed softly. “If I know my old
friend Nikolas, you are not what he was expecting either.”

“Gosh, thanks for the pep talk, Desmund.”

His eyes flashed with amusement as he turned
away. “Anytime, little one.”

“IS IT TRUE? Are you really going to train
with Nikolas?”

I quit pushing my scrambled eggs around and
looked up at Olivia as she slid her breakfast tray onto the table.
A few feet behind her, Jordan followed with her own tray. Just a
few days ago, I was eating alone. I wasn’t sure how I felt about my
new popularity, especially since all anyone wanted to talk about
around here was how awesome Nikolas was.

“Yes.”

Olivia gave a very un-warrior-like squeal
that made me wince.

“Do you have to do that?” snapped Jordan. She
obviously wasn’t a morning person.

“How the hell did you swing that?” Olivia
went on, ignoring Jordan. “No one trains with Nikolas. What I
wouldn’t give . . . ”

I gave up pretending to eat and pushed my
plate away. “You know, just because he’s like some kind of warrior
god around here doesn’t mean he’s all sunshine and roses to be
around. If you think training with him will be easy or fun, you are
delusional and welcome to take my place.”

“And deprive us all of the enjoyment of
watching you and Nikolas?” drawled a familiar male voice.

I smiled up at Chris, whom I had not seen
since my first day here. The blond warrior was the kind of gorgeous
that made women forget their names, and he was a lot more easygoing
than Nikolas. “Hello, Dimples. Shouldn’t you be out breaking hearts
or something?”

Chris grinned and the dimples I’d nicknamed
him for appeared. I heard Olivia let out a soft sigh. “You and
Nikolas training together – I wouldn’t miss that for the world. And
this time when you tell him to kiss your behind, I won’t
intervene.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the nice
one.”

Laughing, he turned away. “I’ll be seeing you
. . . if you two don’t kill each other.”

Olivia stared after him with cow eyes. “Okay,
Sara, what is your secret?”

“My secret?”

“You’re training with Nikolas and flirting
with Chris?”

“I was not flirting with Chris. We’re
friends, sort of.”

“If you say so. Any more super-hot guys you
have stashed away that we don’t know about?”

I decided not to mention Desmund who could
probably fit into Olivia’s “hot” category even if he was just a
little insane. “The girls back home think my friend, Roland, is
pretty hot, but I don’t think he’s your type.”

“Why, is he gay?”

“Nope, werewolf,” I smothered a laugh at her
look of mingled disbelief and distaste, which to her credit, she
tried to hide.

Jordan leaned over to nudge Olivia with her
shoulder. “It’s that whole waif look she has going on. Men can’t
resist it.”

“I am not a waif,” I shot back. “I can take
care of myself.”

Jordan chuckled. “I didn’t say you
were
a waif;
I said you look like one. Did you happen to notice that you’re way
shorter than everyone else here?”

I had noticed that fact soon after I arrived.
Mohiri men were all over six feet tall, and the women were close to
six. At five-five, I definitely stood out. I supposed I had my Fae
heritage to thank for that. Aine was around my height and build.
But being shorter did not make me weaker, and I said as much to
Jordan.

“You won’t hear me argue with you.” She toyed
with her pancakes and gave me a sly grin to let me know she had
been trying to get a rise out of me. “So, do you know what kind of
training you’ll be doing with Nikolas?”

“No idea, but you can bet it won’t be
exciting enough for you.” Knowing Nikolas, he wouldn’t let me do
anything even remotely dangerous. “He’ll probably make me run in
place until I pass out.”

She snorted. “That man doesn’t strike me as
the type to do anything boring. Just be prepared to tell us
everything
tonight.”

“Yes, take pity on the rest of us.” Olivia
let out a groan. “While you get to hang out with Nikolas, we have
to spend the morning nursing stupid kark eggs for Sahir.”

“What are kark eggs?”

“Karks are ugly little bat-like things, and
they hatch from eggs that smell like they’ve been rotting for six
months,” Jordan said with a grimace. “This batch was supposed to go
to Mexico, but someone screwed up and sent it here by mistake.
They’re close to hatching, and Sahir says we have to turn and spray
the eggs or they’ll lose the whole batch before they get to Mexico.
For some reason, he thinks this would be a great educational
experience for us.”

Jordan wasn’t happy about handling Kark eggs,
but to me it sounded a lot more appealing than training with
Nikolas. “Are karks dangerous?”

“No, they eat bugs and stuff, but scarab
demons are their favorite treat. If you’ve never seen a scarab
demon, think of that flesh-eating beetle in
The Mummy
.”

“Well, look at the upside; at least you don’t
have to feed them.”

Olivia made a face. “Says the girl who will
be spending her morning with Nikolas.”

“Look I told you – ” I sensed Nikolas the
second he entered the dining hall. Even if there hadn’t been a
tell-tale touch against my mind, I still would have known he was
there by the sudden lack of conversation from the other trainees
and the way Jordan and Olivia stared at him as he approached. My
body tensed as a shadow fell across our table.

“Ready to start training?” His curt tone told
me he was in warrior mode, no playful Nikolas today. He was dressed
casually in jeans and a dark-blue sweater, but he carried a sword
on his back and a sheathed knife on his hip. It wasn’t fair that he
looked so at ease and I was a bundle of nerves.