“Give. Me. The. Phone. You are as bad as Augustus.” Gerrod heard a spitting noise.
A muffled ‘ouch’ followed.
Vojalie did not believe in gossip.
Davido came back on the phone, his voice a few tones higher. “My beloved wishes to speak with you.”
Since some loud smacking sounds followed and a little giggling, Gerrod released an impatient sigh. God save him from romantic couples who, after two-hundred-years of marriage, still behaved as though on their fae-moon.
When Vojalie agreed to meet with them shortly, he got off the phone and went outside. Ethan was across the street staring up at the sign above the bakery.
“Clever,” he said. He had his hands in his pockets rocking back and forth.
Gerrod drew a deep breath, scowled, and after waiting for a couple of cars to pass, crossed to make amends.
“Ever so sorry, Ethan. My apologies.”
Ethan turned and looked at him. First he grinned, then frowned. “So what the f**k’s going on here? I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m happy as hell for you. She’s…lovely. She’s also human and—” He paused, his eyes widening. “Holy shit, the Goddess and her seven Elf-lords…did you just take her blood again? How the hell is that possible? Did you…shit, Gerrod, is she dead? No human, no realm can give that much blood one day following the next.”
But since at that moment, Abigail opened the door, smiled and waved, her cheeks still bearing a lovely flush, Ethan’s jaw dropped.
“Do you understand now why I must speak with Vojalie?”
“Uh, hell yeah. Who can donate blood like that? I work from a dozen doneuses at present and I’m still f**king blood-starved.”
Abigail called out, “I just need to speak with Elena, then I’m all yours.”
Then she was all his. Why did his chest tighten like that, as though she had spoken an entire volume of poetry?
He waved in return.
“She…she looks healthier than before. What. The. Fuck?”
“I know. Abigail makes no sense at all in our world.”
“Unless…”
Gerrod turned to Ethan. “Unless what?”
“I’ve heard of this thing, it’s some kind of rose, but… Aw, hell, never mind. Listen, you’ve got a lot on your plate right now. I’m heading back to Bergisson. I’ll stay in touch. And I’ll sure as hell let you know if the Invictus start showing up in bigger numbers or if our realm-folk start disappearing.”
“Good. You want a lift?” He gestured to his car.
Ethan smirked. “What the hell for?” He clapped Gerrod on the shoulder, told him to let his hair down with Abigail, then sped off, pathing his way to the Bergisson entry point in the northeast portion of the Merhaine Realm.
Gerrod wondered what ‘letting his hair down’ with Abigail had to do with anything. Besides, he had already done that last night, which had been extraordinary.
He waited for several cars to pass, as well as a young troll on a bicycle, before he crossed back to the bakery. He glanced up the street and waved his car forward.
By the time Abigail finished up with Elena, the car was ready and he ushered her inside.
The funny thing was, she didn’t move to the other side, but instead, sat in the middle and as soon as he shut the door, she grabbed his left arm and wrapped it over her shoulders. She settled against him and sighed.
She was such a strange creature. He looked down at her and after a moment, he allowed his arm to relax and surround her. He even pressed her arm with his hand. He hadn’t done this in so long that he had forgotten how to do it, how to be with a woman. He tried not to think how good it felt.
She looked up at him. With his free hand, he cupped her neck and thumbed her jaw. He leaned down and kissed her. He had meant it only to be something soft, without tongue, but before he could even think, he was pushing into her mouth and she writhed against him.
His frequency lit up almost at once, as though it knew Abigail better than his rational mind did.
Oh, God, Gerrod, that wave. It’s like magic and so seductive. You could take me again. Right here.
He could. He could do it now. He wanted to push her onto her back and take care of business.
He drew back panting. She stared at him, lips parted, breathing hard. “My God, what you can do to me. Are you sure it isn’t some kind of vampire thrall? I mean, seriously.”
He chuckled. “Not possible. Doesn’t exist. Vampires can’t enthrall.” But he kept shaking his head. He’d never been with a woman like this.
Only then did he realize the car wasn’t moving.
He glanced at the front seat and saw that his driver was staring forward, quite studiously. Good man. “To Vojalie’s.”
“Yes, mastyr.”
*** *** ***
Abigail had not been to many realm homes, just the castle, Elena’s modest cottage and a couple of others. But the outside of Vojalie and Davido’s home was a different experience entirely since it was constructed of a series of round structures with what must be long halls connecting the rooms inside.
The carved arched door was made of a beautiful solid dark wood. The carving depicted a woman in flowing robes, who Abigail supposed must be the Goddess, that spiritual being most realm-folk worshipped.
Gerrod lifted the wrought-iron rapper and tapped three times.
When the door opened, her brows rose. Before her was a stately troll who, on the scale of attractiveness, ranked in the lower numbers. She had heard Vojalie was perhaps the most beautiful woman in the realm. Davido had more wrinkles than she’d ever seen on a troll before.
He bowed to her then apologized saying it was a very old habit of his, something from ancient days. “Come in, come in. We are delighted to have you here.”
Davido was even shorter than Augustus, perhaps five-three, no more. But he was broad shouldered, and nicely built, his waist narrow. His legs were long and well-muscled for his relative size. He wore a long-sleeved ribbed t-shirt and tailored slacks. On his feet, expensive Italian loafers.
She heard the strangest sound beside her, the softest growl.
She glanced up at Gerrod, eyes wide. What?
You were looking at him.
And yes, she was. He took her hand and held it firmly. She wasn’t sure what to say. She hadn’t meant to stare. That was rude of me.
Do you desire him?
Oh, God, no, I’m just surprised sometimes by certain things.
Stop looking at certain things, then.
She glanced back at Davido, who was now grinning. She wondered if he had read their telepathic conversation. But when his gaze dropped to their joined fingers then back to meet her eyes, she understood. The top ridge of his forehead rose slightly as well, a sure sign that his trollish curiosity had been pinged.