Chapter 30 #3
He glanced at the bar where Niamh was sitting. “Another time. But I will, I promise, okay? I will trust you where I haven’t trusted anyone else. Not now. Not when it could be used against me, or when you might not remember it anyway.”
He wiped away the wetness on her cheeks.
“But you are wrong about one thing, Natasha,” he said.
“You did have a choice, back in the day.
And you have a choice now. You have always had a choice.
And you chose, and choose, to be a hero.
You choose to do the dirty work and save the lives of the people you love.
Not everyone has that ability. Not everyone has the courage.
“The point is, Natasha, the darkness doesn’t define us.
It doesn’t erase the good parts of us. We are the best heroes, you and I, because we don’t need to walk in the light to enact justice.
We do it through any means possible. Jessie needs people like us.
Like Niamh. Like Austin. She needs people who aren’t afraid of the night.
Who else will battle the creatures that exist there, but us? ”
He ran his thumb along her jaw, and in a moment of absolute weakness, said words he’d never uttered to another living soul.
“I love you,” he whispered, and realized with a jolt that they were true. Almost immediately, he wanted to take them back. To hide the truth. But they were out in the world, now. They no longer belonged to just him. Now they belonged to her as well.
Her eyes softened and filled with tears again. She leaned her forehead against his.
“I’m scared,” she breathed, and he knew she was afraid to feel strongly for someone who wasn’t family. Someone who could let you down and leave you, hurt you. A sentiment, until right this moment, he’d shared.
“I know,” he replied. “Think nothing more of it. Say your goodbyes and then I’ll fly you home.”
She let out a shaky breath, nodded, and gingerly stepped away.
Ulric held out his hands, his drink on the table in front of him. “Brah. Where have you been? Jasper fell on his head.”
She blinked at him stupidly for a moment, then at Jasper still laughing on the floor, and started laughing herself. Just like that, her sunshine rushed back in. This time, it wasn’t feigned.
John sat down next to Tristan and clasped his fingers together.
“I don’t have to tell you that whatever you heard doesn’t need to be repeated,” Tristan growled. He might not win, but to protect her truth, he’d take on the beast next to him.
“I certainly know something about darkness and killing those who are trying to hurt your family,” John murmured. “I came to it young, too. It scars you, and those scars never go away. I’ve got no interest in meddling with anyone else’s affairs. I got plenty of shit on my own plate.”
Didn’t they all.
“You’ve gotten used to this situation, then?” John asked, gesturing at the Ivy House crew. Hopefully, they’d been cut off by the bartender.
Tristan took a deep breath. “No. I’m still reeling half the time, even tonight, when I thought I’d known everything.
That’s the thing about this cair--convocation.
I’ve got cairn on the brain, sorry. But that’s the thing about it—you think it can only go one way, or two ways, or five, and it ends up going in a completely different direction.
When you roll with it, and trust your team, and work with them, then it works out. And only then.”
“I don’t want a job.”
“I don’t care. Doesn’t change the situation as you sit here now, waiting for the next random thing to happen.”
John studied him quietly. This guy was taking it all in, moment by moment. It must’ve been the way he was programmed.
Tristan let him. A woman separated from a cluster within the crowd and walked straight toward him wearing a smile that said she had devious things on her mind. Her hips swayed suggestively, and her slinky blue dress rode high on her thighs and low on her bust.
He looked away with a distasteful expression. Maybe she’d get the hint—
“Hello, Tristan,” he heard. “I heard that—“
Light glittered along a blade, and energy coiled and churned around him as Nessa lurched forward. She grabbed the woman by the back of the neck, yanked her closer, and pressed a pocketknife against the woman’s throat.
“Approach my man again,” Nessa ground out, “and I will press this blade as deep as it can go. He is mine, do you hear me? I do not share. I have no problem with torture and less problem with unmarked graves.” She grinned at the wide-eyed woman.
“Hell, all I’d have to do is throw you and all your friends off the side of this mountain.
Unlike my boss, the ladies here don’t have wings.
Splat!” She shoved the woman away. “Get gone while I still have my temper.”
The woman didn’t spare Tristan another glance. She and her companions hurried out of the bar.
“That last line didn’t make any sense.” Ulric scratched his head. “Right? Or am I missing something?”
“Oh, crap, Ulric, is that your mom?” Jasper pointed down the bar.
“Oh no! Tell her I went home. Call me when she’s gone.” Ulric ran for the back of the bar, knocking chairs out of the way.
Jasper bent forward in a wheeze. “Got him!”
Phil had turned from the bar to face Tristan. “I thought you were going to stop her from doing that! We’re here to keep the peace.”
“Nah. You’re here to keep the peace. And you’re not doing a great job of it from what I just saw. I’m here for a cognac. Niamh?”
Niamh shook with laughter. She put up her hand for the bartender.
“I will take that.” Phil tsked as he grabbed Natasha’s wrist and, with the other large hand, wrestled the blade away. “You are very sneaky, Miss Nessa. Where do you keep finding these weapons?”
“I’m seeing a completely different side to the basajaunak,” John murmured. “Completely different.”
“Better or worse?” Tristan asked.
“Better. Much. They’re actually a joy to be around now. They used to be a nightmare.”
That seemed like the summary of Jessie’s whole crew.
“Training Wheels told me about the trouble shifters are having with mages,” John said.
Tristan furrowed his brow. “Who?”
From the corner, he saw a hand go up and a finger point down. Aurora.
“Miss Alpha’s Daughter, Alpha-in-Training, Training Wheels.” She burped. “All right here.”
A laugh escaped Tristan. “Good one.”
“He certainly thinks so,” Aurora groused, and even though shifters seemed to have a great tolerance, she was in an alcoholic haze. Niamh and Phil had really done a number on this crew.
“Nessa, before all the shots…” John paused as she staggered back over to Tristan, threaded her way between his legs and draped herself over him, tucking her face into the hollow between his neck and shoulder.
“She filled me in about mages in general. Why would the gargoyles join a fight that doesn’t belong to them? ”
Tristan pulled Nessa in close, supporting her weight and feeling a delicious hum between their bodies. She moaned softly.
“Because gargoyles are made to battle. We want the fight. And we need a strong commander to lead us there. Give the gargoyles a cause and they will give you a favorable outcome. Why do you think Jessie and Austin are spending their time and effort trying to barge their way into a community that doesn’t think they belong?
We need them if we want to win, and we have to win.
If we don’t fight for each other, who will fight for us?
Shifters are currently the targets, but if they fall, who is next?
This isn’t an individual sport, it’s a team effort—for those who have the balls to play, at least. And Jessie and Austin have the biggest balls of them all. ”
“Lady balls, made of iron.” Natasha tried to put up a fist but failed. “Did I win?”
“Did you win what?” Tristan asked her.
“Did I win the shot war?”
Jasper put up his hands. “I win! I got up so I win. I am still standing for the foreseeable future.”
“You’re leaning against the wall,” Natasha said, her face still tucked into Tristan.
“Whatever. You’re being held up. I win.”
Ulric jogged out of the archway that led to the restrooms, clipped his toe on the corner, staggered, and sprawled across a table, bringing it crashing down.
John bounced up.
“You didn’t win!” Ulric climbed to his feet as John righted the table. “You did not win!” Ulric put a fist into the air. “I am not done yet!”
“Atta boy,” Niamh said, still without turning around.
“They’re cut off,” the bartender said, watching the melee.
“Ah, schure,” Niamh said in a thick drawl, “they’re just gettin’ goin’. Leave ‘em at it.”
“No.” The bartender shook his head. “No more for them.”
“Yes, please,” Aurora murmured from the corner. She groaned and thunked her head against the table. “Cut me off.”
“Time to go.” Tristan stood, cradling Natasha in his arms. She snuggled in close. “I just need to tuck her in, and then I can come back and see the others home.”
“Nah.” John stood and stuck out his hand.
Tristan balanced Natasha before shaking it.
“Thanks for not giving a shit about what I might do with my life.” John grinned. “It’s refreshing.”
“Anytime.” Tristan laughed and turned for the door. Pausing, he stepped closer to Niamh. “Where do I put her? Her bed…or my bed with me in hers?”
“Easy,” Niamh replied. “Yours. Your T-shirt on her, no bra, keep on her knickers and socks.”
“Socks?” Phil asked.
“Yeah. She’ll know he put her to bed, but that he didn’t get a ride. She would’ve taken off her knickers and socks for that.”
“But the bra is off?” Tristan affirmed quietly.
“That’s for comfort,” Niamh said.
“Put her in her bed,” John growled before Tristan could turn for the door.
“Don’t play games when it comes to a woman feeling safe.
Waking up in very little, in a man’s bed, and not remembering what happened makes a lot of women panic, or so I’ve been told.
Even if it is only for a moment, that is a moment too long, even for a woman who seems to find weapons like a normal person finds pennies—“
“She stole all those,” Niamh interrupted. “For all yer starin’, ye don’t notice much of the details, do ya? She’s the best pickpocket I ever saw.”
John’s eyebrows drew in. He hadn’t noticed.
“She’s clearly comfortable with you,” he said after a moment, “so put her in fluffy pajamas, tuck her into her bed, and let her wake up in a comfortable setting knowing you took care of her. That’ll go a lot further than whatever the puca is suggesting.”
“Very uninspiring but I can see the merit,” Phil said.
“The merit of calling me by my magical creature instead of my name to attempt to get my goat, or him throwing cold water on the fiery game they’re playing?” Niamh asked.
“This just got too complicated,” Phil muttered.
Tristan didn’t wait for them to argue it out. He kissed Natasha’s temple as he walked toward the door. Her head lolled and he snuggled her close before he set her down to strip. This was the crap part of flying her home in this state, but she’d asked for it, and it did set the right precedent.
Once in his gargoyle form, he tucked his clothes into her shirt to ensure they didn’t drop in flight, then took her in his arms and pushed into the sky.
He didn’t waste any time, flying fast and straight toward the hotel.
Once there, he barely hesitated before going to her room and knocking on the door.
Sebastian pulled it open, saw the situation, and got out of the way.
“Do you know which are her favorite pajamas?” Tristan asked, laying her on the bed. Her eyes fluttered but remained closed.
“Yes, but I don’t think I’ll tell you. You should pick out the ones you think she likes best. She’ll like that you chose for her.”
He glanced over his shoulder at her before looking down at her orderly suitcase. “Um…”
“It’s okay if you mess up her things. In this, it really will be the thought that counts. I’ll just go to the restroom.”
It seemed like Sebastian was rooting for Tristan to make an impression here.
The others were probably playing games or using logic, but Sebastian knew her best and cared about her the most. If he thought Tristan was a bad idea, or someone Natasha wouldn’t want to handle her in this state, he’d get in the way.
Instead, he was giving Tristan time alone to attend to someone he thought of as a sister.
Tristan blew out a breath, suddenly feeling unworthy.
He’d never courted anyone, and Natasha was too good by far to mess with the likes of him.
But he’d put himself out there earlier, even if she didn’t remember.
He put himself out there every time he was in her presence.
While Niamh’s idea would probably prolong this exquisite game they were playing, John was dead right.
Even if this wasn’t as much fun, making her feel safe, waking up with her brother, in her own space and fully clothed in her PJs, was better for her peace of mind.
When it came to a woman’s safety, that’s all that mattered.
He got to work, dressing her with careful efficiency and desperately trying not to let his gaze linger on secret places. He was painfully hard by the time he slid her into bed, but he ignored it. He kissed her forehead, and then lightly kissed her lips, before excusing himself from the room.
He wondered how much she would remember.
He wondered when he’d have to make good and finally tell someone his murky and dangerous past.