Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
JAMIE
J amie caught his foot in some of the blankets and almost face-planted getting out of bed. Whatever was happening, it was bad. He could tell by Sigurd’s voice when he was talking on the phone.
“What’s going on?” Jamie righted himself, kicking the blankets off his foot and grabbing his pants and shirt.
“Marcus is here, and he brought friends. They’re trying to get through the wards.”
Jamie went lightheaded and stumbled back a step, landing on his ass on the bed.
“Jamie, hey.” Sigurd was in front of him, strong hands cupping his face. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
He gripped Sigurd’s wrist and sucked in a breath. “How did he find me? He wasn’t supposed to be able to find me.”
“I know, and I don’t know how he’s managed, but he left a rose on the door in a mini noose.”
“Red?”
“Yes.”
Jamie licked his lips, trying to get his brain to cooperate. “Okay. What do we do?”
“Put on your shoes. We’re going downstairs. The dining room is the most heavily warded and defensible. If they get through before our back-up arrives, Silva and I can hold them off from there.”
“Silva’s here?”
“He’s the one who woke me and found Marcus’s token.”
He stood up on shaky legs and did as Sigurd asked, slipping his feet into his shoes and following him downstairs.
When they got there, Wylder and a silver-haired man with pointy ears were turning the table on its side and pushing it legs-first toward the wall with no windows. As soon as they entered, Silva turned to him and offered his hand. “You must be Jamie.”
“Hi, Silva,” he said, shaking hands. “Sorry we keep meeting like this.”
Silva barked a laugh. “Oh you’ll do just fine.”
“Silvanir.” Sigurd huffed. “Stop flirting with my mate.”
“He’s so grumpy sometimes.” Silva shot Jamie a wink and went to where Sigurd was peeking around the curtains in one of the windows.
Jamie turned to Wylder only to find him red-faced and staring at the floor. “Are you okay?”
Wylder seemed to shake himself. “Yeah. Let’s get you back here. Do you have any weapons training?”
Jamie swallowed. “Um, no.”
Wylder nodded. “Okay. Take this. I’m sure it won’t come to it, but if they get past us, point and shoot.”
Jamie had never held a gun in his life, but he took it when Wylder offered. He kept it aimed at the floor.
“It’s rubber bullets, but they sting like a bitch, and Sig put some spell on them that will stun anyone long enough to get away. Okay?”
“Okay.” Jamie felt better about that. He didn’t know if he was capable of shooting someone with the intent to really hurt or kill them. Even Marcus.
“Sigurd!” a voice called from outside. It was Marcus, and it sounded like he was standing just outside the front door. “Aren’t you going to come out and thank me for finding your mate for you?”
Jamie peeked up over the edge of the overturned table. Sigurd was already looking back at him.
“What’s he talking about, Jamie?”
“I have no idea.” Jamie shook his head. Marcus knew Sigurd?
Silva was looking at Jamie, too. Then he turned to Sigurd. “He sounds familiar.”
“Oh come on, Sig,” Marcus yelled. “You’re not gonna invite me in?”
Sigurd got up and walked toward the door. It was a straight shot from the dining room through the living area.
“No,” Jamie said, jumping to his feet and starting to go after him. Wylder grabbed his arm and pulled him back behind the table.
“Jamie, trust me. Uncle Sig knows what he’s doing.”
Sigurd looked through the peephole in the door. His back went ramrod straight. He backed away from the door quietly, moving toward the fireplace, but Marcus’s taunting voice rang out just the same.
“Yeah, it’s me. Had to change my name after our little tiff.
Killed me to do it, but I needed a new start while I figured out how I was going to make you hurt the way you hurt me, Sig.
” Marcus—or not Marcus—chuckled. “Imagine my surprise when I saw this little human coming out of a grocery store one night. A grocery store of all places.” He laughed like it was the funniest thing that had ever happened to him.
“I knew he was your mate the moment I saw him. I tell you, it took some doing to get him shipped out here, but I wanted you to know him, Sig. Wanted you to know what you were losing before I took him from you.”
“Except you fucked up, Ansel.” Sigurd growled. “He’s not going anywhere, and you’re going to burn to ash just like your mate did all those years ago.”
Sigurd slapped a hand against the mantle, and it lit up like Christmas lights. A moment later, a scream sounded through the door. Followed by a thud, hard enough to rattle the door in its frame.
“It won’t be that easy, Sigurd,” Marcus—Ansel—screamed. Another thud sounded through the door. “I want you hurt, but the others? They want so much more! They’re going to open the Fae door! You watch! Then your mate will die screaming just like mine did!”
The roar of motorcycles overtook whatever else Ansel was screeching. Jamie was frozen to the spot, eyes wide and heart thudding.
“Where’s Silva?” Wylder said, looking around frantically, but Jamie couldn’t focus on anything except for the brief second of absolute fear he’d seen on Sigurd’s face.
A commotion erupted outside, snarling and screams filtering through the walls from all directions. It sounded like that back-up had arrived.
A moment later, the door swung open. Sigurd and Wylder both turned, ready to fight. Silva stood there, honest-to-god sword in hand.
“It’s clear.”
SIGURD
The commotion after Ansel’s stunt had the house swarming with Hellhounds, and Council members, and even the human police.
It seemed Ansel had spent a fortune on hiring a mercenary coven to spell some humans for him and attempt to break Sigurd’s wards.
They’d failed at the last, but succeeded enough at the first. Because Jamie was there in Solston, and Sigurd already knew he couldn’t lose him.
But would Jamie want to stay after what just happened? And if Ansel had been telling the truth about the fanatics trying to open the Fae door…there would be so much more danger coming in the future. Danger he’d never wanted for Wylder and certainly didn’t want for Jamie.
Ansel and his hired lackeys were locked up at the Hellhound’s compound. They’d set the dining room to rights, and Sigurd had spent the better part of the morning reinforcing the wards.
Jamie found him in the kitchen. “You’re avoiding me.”
Sigurd sighed. Thought about denying it, but in the end, decided being direct was probably best. “Yes. I put you in danger, and if you stay here you’ll be in more danger.” He looked down. “But for the life of me, Jamie, I can’t bring myself to ask you to leave.”
“So don’t. I don’t want to leave.” He walked right up into Sigurd’s space and wrapped his arms around Sigurd’s waist. “This morning was scary and I’ll definitely be taking Wylder up on that weapons training, but we got through it.”
Sigurd cupped Jamie’s face. “It’s going to be worse.
The people…the creatures that want that door open.
They’ve been mostly dormant for thirty years.
If they’ve spent all this time planning.
” He shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s going to be worse than it was before.
” He lowered his voice even though it was only them, Wylder, and Silva in the house now.
“And if they’ve somehow figured out how to open the door. ” He clenched his jaw.
“We’ll stop them.” Jamie leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Just like you stopped Ansel today.” Jamie’s face scrunched up. “How did you do that?”
“The gargoyles. Over the doorway? They breathe fire when the mantle rune is activated. Vampires and fire don’t mix.”
“You don’t think he’ll come back?”
“No. If the Council lets him live, we’ll never see him again.”
“Good.” Jamie kissed him again.
“You really want to stay?”
“Forever.”
Thank you for reading!
The story continues in A Fae Called Silvanir .