Wings Once Cursed & Bound, page 6
Thomas halted just outside of arm’s reach—not that either of them couldn’t reach the other in an instant—and glared at Bennett. “I get that you bloodsuckers are loners more often than my kind, and you chose to be a solitary soldier, but even you must have been taught somewhere in your centuries of sad existence to properly take care of those under your protection.”
There was real anger in the other man’s posture and a flash of moon-driven madness in his eyes. The moon was waxing, not far from full, and the werewolf’s instincts were riding him hard.
Bennett pressed his lips together, rather than continue to bare his fangs at the werewolf. “Are you canine or avian? You haven’t even met the woman yet and you are already set to sit on her and brood like a hen.”
Thomas bared his own teeth and growled. Bennett waited. As tempting as it was to taunt the other man further, theirs was a delicate balance. It would be ill-advised to push Thomas over the edge into real rage. Perhaps someday, they’d find out which of them would survive a true fight to the finish, but it would have to be over a better reason than Bennett’s transgression this evening. He wasn’t going to admit it to the wolf, though.
The lamp flicked back on behind him. Duncan skirted around both of them, slipping into the guest room without even a nod to Bennett.
Fine. He should have insisted on feeding their visitor. He had asked and she had assured him she needed nothing else, but he should have known she required additional sustenance to recover from the blood loss.
He had been angry, seeing the ragged incision on her arm. Blood had still trickled over her skin, and he’d intended to ask Duncan to come in while she was sleeping and properly bandage the wound. He had intended to see to it that she would be cared for, just not by him.
He couldn’t. He’d done her harm and he couldn’t undo what he had done. In retrospect, any of them tending to her while she was sleeping was not a good idea if they wanted her to feel any amount of security. He was not thinking things through enough and it only served to prove he should not be the one to tend to her at this moment. Perhaps later, he would ask himself why he cared. But for now he set the question aside.
Instead, maintaining eye contact with Thomas, he stepped back and tipped his head to indicate the werewolf should proceed into the room.
Thomas stopped growling and studied him for a long moment, then went into the room without another word. Whatever the werewolf had seen, Bennett would have to wait to find out later. If the werewolf decided to share at all. In his own way, Thomas was as annoying as any vampire.
“Oh, I’m not hungry.” The woman’s voice did sound tired and Bennett closed his hands into fists.
“Couldn’t we tempt you with just a few bites, Punch?” Duncan was very good at coaxing. Bennett gritted his teeth. “Asamoah is a talented chef in addition to his official capacity as an advisor to our organization, and he put together a light repast designed to aid you in a speedy recovery. There’s a dish for your small companions as well.”
Bennett knew the name she’d given to Duncan, but he hadn’t been invited to call her by it and he would wait until she did, even inside his own head. It mattered to him and again, he did not want to think about why immediately.
“It does smell good.” A pause. “Thomas?”
Everyone froze.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, staring at Thomas. “You remind me of someone I knew as a kid. I don’t think we’ve met yet.”
The change in her tone from warmth to absolute neutral brought a smile to Bennett’s lips. He took a moment to get his expression back under control, then stepped inside the room to see how Thomas handled someone who apparently knew him.
Certainly, Thomas had not been present when Bennett and Duncan had arrived. Thomas had probably run up, literally, from his cabin near the manor.
Bennett took up a position to be closer to her than Thomas. However they had known each other in the past, she was Bennett’s guest and responsibility now.
“Since you aren’t going to get any rest until my colleagues satisfy their curiosity,” he said, noting that Duncan had placed a tray with legs extended to position it over her lap, “may I introduce Thomas? He and I, and everyone you’ve met tonight, are part of an organization called the Darke Consortium.”
She stared at Thomas.
After a long moment, Thomas spoke almost reluctantly. “Phee eng ja.”
Bennett wasn’t familiar with the language.
“Khidtheung jahng ley ka.” She shook herself and smiled, wide and bright. “Well, this might answer a few questions I’ve had for the longest time.”
“You never run out of questions.” Thomas gave her a grin and started to sit on the edge of the bed.
Bennett narrowed his eyes. Thomas was a flirt and convinced his charm was irresistible. However, this interaction was both more familiar and had absolutely no seduction in it. This was a side of Thomas he had never encountered to date. Bennett did not like the instant familiarity between the two of them.
The moment Thomas’s rear end touched the comforter, dual sharp grinding sounds rose up from the nightstand.
Thomas shot back to his feet, and she laughed. “Tobi and Cory would prefer you kept your distance.”
Good.
“Who—”
Even as Thomas asked, she reached over and unzipped the small carry pouch on the nightstand. “Tobi and Cory are nocturnal anyway, so they probably wouldn’t have wanted to go to sleep so early.”
The woman tipped her head to one side, focusing on the tray in front of her with a curiosity matching her little friends’ as the sugar gliders first leaped from the nightstand to the bedcovers, then ran up her sleeve to perch on her shoulder.
“As an FYI, I grew up knowing Thomas as my older cousin. He went away on deployment with the military before I graduated from high school.” As she explained, she lifted the cover off the smaller plate first, revealing a dish of cold poached chicken breast sliced thin and fanned out in a tempting arrangement. The sugar gliders both chirped and literally pounced, landing with separate thumps on the covers before stalking the dish and snagging a slice of chicken each.
Tiny they might be, but those two were not simple rodents. They were predators in their own right.
“It’s been about two decades, give or take a year, and here he is looking exactly the same. Maybe grumpier. Obviously, I have a lot of questions.” Apparently not urgent ones, because she continued to investigate the food on her tray, setting the cover to the side and lifting the larger one to reveal a clear teacup filled with light broth. Tiny slices of carrots carved into flowers had settled at the bottom alongside half-moon slivers of celery and onion. Crisp, thin crackers were stacked like a deck of playing cards next to the teacup.
“This is lovely!” She lifted a cracker, nibbled at the edge first, then picked up the teacup and took a sip. Her eyes closed, face full of blissful joy.
Bennett had seen many creatures in this world enjoy both the hunt and the consumption of their prey, but this—this was joy on a level that was almost blinding. All for a sip of soup.
Duncan cleared his throat. “Asamoah thought a restorative soup would be helpful without being too heavy.”
“This is perfect.” She gifted Duncan with a bright smile. “I love chicken soup and I’ve never had it served to me this way. It’s as fun to look at as it is to eat.”
While she focused on food, Bennett considered her interaction with Thomas. Bennett spoke quite a few languages, but the words she and Thomas had shared between them weren’t ones he knew. A fair guess would be Thai, considering her earlier discussion of Thai mythology and kinnaree.
Thomas shifted his weight from foot to foot, and if Bennett could have guessed, he’d say the werewolf was feeling very awkward right now. Good.
“So you are all a part of the Darke Consortium.” She set down the teacup and lifted a cracker to nibble. “Is that a private club of some kind or a job?”
“Neither…”
“Both…”
Bennett glared at Thomas as the werewolf turned and curled his lip to show his teeth. Punch looked from one to the other and lifted her teacup of soup again.
“This broth is clearer than your answers,” she said, and sipped.
Duncan coughed, obviously covering a chuckle.
“To clarify,” Bennett started quickly to preempt Thomas, “the members of the Darke Consortium have a common goal to locate and retrieve objects of myth, imbued with magic. We place them in sanctuaries around the world for safekeeping. Joining our organization is currently by invitation only.”
Thomas groaned. “Don’t make it all out to be completely altruistic. You might not need the salary, but some of us do. The Darke Consortium provides a yearly salary and covers expenses related to each mission.”
Bennett glowered. “You are relatively young. Those of us who’ve learned to survive over the centuries have amassed a certain amount of wealth.”
“Survive comfortably,” Thomas shot back. “I do just fine. Money is about math, and for someone making my way through my second lifetime, so to speak, I’m just getting started. But you can’t make the Consortium out to be this higher purpose without full disclosure that there are incentives for what we do.”
“Do they do this a lot?” Their guest looked askance at Duncan.
Duncan’s expression was markedly bland, but he lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug.
“Got it. You two have a sort of bromance thing going on.”
Duncan made a choking noise.
Bennett closed his eyes, reaching for patience.
Thomas growled. “Look, we work together. We don’t even like each other.”
“Thus the common goal,” she said, nodding wisely. “I can think of several Asian dramas where lead characters share a similar friendship dynamic. It’s very entertaining. I’m here for it.”
“This is not a drama,” Thomas growled.
She sipped soup from her teacup again.
“Our priorities, currently, are for you to rest and recover from the trauma of our arrival.” Bennett was experiencing a certain amount of desperation to get them all focused on the real issue at hand. He was also uncharacteristically concerned about her well-being. She had perked up considerably, which was all well and good, but her shoulders were slumping, and she was undoubtedly tired. He continued, “While we look for a way to remove the red shoes before your resistance to them fades.”
“I think I remember a ballet about the red shoes.” Her voice was somber as she set down the teacup finally. “It didn’t have a happy ending.”
“No,” Bennett confirmed.
“I’m assuming everyone’s tried the obvious to get those off so far.” Thomas tapped the bedcovers near her feet.
Both sugar gliders reared up and lifted itty bitty clawed paws as they issued their tiny grinder growls.
“Tried force, tried everything slippery you can find in that bathroom over there, from soap to lotion to oil,” she said. Her frustration was clear in every statement.
“What did they try in the original fairy tale?” Thomas asked.
Duncan shook his head as he took the now finished tray and stepped back from the bed. “These specific shoes are not of fae making.”
Bennett gave Thomas a sharp look. “A woodcutter or blacksmith, depending on the version of the folk tale, cut off the wearer’s feet above the ankle.”
Thomas grunted in surprise.
“Pass.” She was still markedly calm, her sugar gliders playing with each other in her lap now that Thomas had backed off again.
“It didn’t work anyway,” Bennett conceded. “The shoes continued to make the feet dance, blocking the victim’s way.”
Any color she had regained leached away and she seemed to shrink back into the pillows supporting her.
“There’s an image.” Thomas crossed his arms over his chest.
The werewolf’s few centuries were relatively short in comparison to Bennett’s. But Thomas had seen many things in those years, of that Bennett was certain. Thomas had been a soldier for the U.S. military and had deployed several times. Add those experiences to life as a werewolf and a few detached limbs should not be a surprise. It did not mean the image was pleasant.
“In at least one version of the ballet, she dances to her death, I think.” She bit her lip.
Thomas stilled, bracing for something. It didn’t matter who one was, impending death wasn’t an easy thing to face.
But it was Bennett she looked to and held his gaze. “I don’t want to die.”
This was why he had not wanted to know anything about her once she put on the red shoes. He should not give her any kind of reassurance. He could not. “We do not know how to save you.”
“Yet.” Thomas’s voice was almost completely obscured by his growl at this point.
She only nodded. Her eyes held sadness, a touch of fear, a spark of courage, and a resolution to try. Try to survive to the very last moment.
He gave her the only promise he could. “I will search for a solution.”
Seven
Bennett
“So you’re not explaining. No. There’s too much.” Thomas was actively searching the index of a large volume on Thai folktales on the library’s second floor. “You won’t even sum up.”
Bennett sat in a comfortable armchair on the first floor, scanning through one of the only other books they had on the topic. “No.”
He refused to give Thomas any ammunition with which to poke at him. Besides, Thomas seemed to be curious about their new guest, and Bennett was not inclined to give the werewolf any more information than what could be gleaned from the general household. After all, Thomas had knowledge of her from being a childhood relation.
A fact that did not bother Bennett in the slightest.
She did have a rather memorable skeptical expression, though. The image came to him of her face with a single eyebrow lifted, lips pressed together. He fought to keep the corners of his mouth from twitching upward.
“Seems to me a lot happened today.” Thomas sounded more amused than angry.
“And it is apparent to me that you already have a grasp of the pertinent details.” Bennett checked the bibliography at the back of the book, then leaned forward to glower at the general search results on the wafer-thin digital tablet resting on an end table next to his chair.
There were actually a handful of computer tablets in the library. It prevented either of them wasting time fighting over possession of a particular item. Asamoah had suggested the idea not long after Thomas had joined the Consortium, having pointed out that Bennett and Thomas would never actually work together if they did not make certain accommodations for their respective predatory natures.
Asamoah was an old, old being. Over the rise and fall of civilizations, Asamoah had been there. He was a being who not only offered ideas, but inspired innovation and creativity. It was foolish to dismiss an inspiration offered by Asamoah, and Bennett was not a fool. “Duncan is discreet and gives facts, not juicy context.” Thomas ignored the spiral stairs leading from the second floor down to the first and simply vaulted the railing to land neatly next to Bennett’s chair. “Asamoah had the more fun rendition, but could only tell me what happened once you got here to the manor. I want to know how you went out for an easy win, a fairly low-risk retrieval, and managed to come back from the brink of true death in the space of one evening.”
Bennett looked up at Thomas over the wire rims of his glasses. Bennett didn’t need the glasses, being a vampire with supernaturally acute senses including sight, but he found the effect satisfying. Besides, it deepened the contrast between him and the werewolf. Thomas became a werewolf at the beginning of the prime age for humans, early thirties, and he wasn’t very old as werewolves go, with only two centuries to his actual age. Bennett was well past his third century.
There were vampires and werewolves far older than either he or Thomas, but not many. Being of a supernatural species with the potential for long life was no guarantee of survival, which still required certain amounts of skill and intelligence, neither of which were particularly common. If they were, the world would have been overrun and humans, however quickly they reproduced or tenacious they were as a species, would have been hunted to extinction.
“What matters is how to address the situation as it stands now.” Bennett lifted his tablet and waved it under Thomas’s nose.
Thomas barked out a short laugh. “The situation is currently lying down upstairs, asleep in one of the guest rooms. She grew up quick-thinking, and pretty.”
That last observation ended on a growl, and if Bennett had had any previous doubts regarding Thomas’s attitude toward his “cousin,” it was clear now that Thomas was not pleased at the thought of how others might be attracted to her.
Insufficient to call her simply pretty, in any case. But then, Thomas might be picturing a child or awkward youth from his memory and hadn’t seen the adult, current version of her moving. Dancing.
She had powerful leaps and that extra snap to her spins that took her from good to excellent, yet she had a grace that lent elegance to her movements. No matter how many times she rose up to balance or left the stage completely in her jumps, she connected back to earth with a surety of someone who always knew where she would land.
She was like a bird, lovely when perched. But the truth of her beauty came out when she was in motion, and it stole one’s breath away.
If one had any need to breathe, which he did not.
“Her appearance isn’t pertinent.”
As if his heart wasn’t trying to beat inside his cold chest at the memory of her dancing.
Thomas grinned. “Are you sure? I saw the way that look she gave you melted even your frigid vampiric heart. As an older cousin, I ought to express a sort of familial concern regarding your intentions. That’s why we’re here digging through the library, isn’t it?”
