Chapter Two
I nstead of freaking out, I opt for an awkward introduction.
Thrusting my hand in his direction with a not-at-all-crazy smile on my face, I greet the merfolk clan leader. Now if someone would remind my mouth that I don’t want to sound like a complete fucking idiot, that would be great.
“It’s a pleasure to massage your dragon.”
Wait…
What the fuck did I just say?!
I don’t even bother waiting for him to clasp my hand, or save myself by keeping the facepalm to an internal gesture. Taking a breath, I rub my hand down my face, before once again pasting a smile on my lips for the stoic leader. I hear a faint snicker from behind him and take notice of a younger copy of the man, who is turning various shades of red as he attempts to hold in his laughter.
Foregoing the handshake attempt this time, I opt for an even more awkward slight head tip.
I truly am the embodiment of poise and grace.
Stop laughing, that’s rude!
“Sorry. It’s been a long morning of training. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you Dagon. I’m Forsythia Grimshaw.”
If I expect a reaction, I’m shit out of luck. The man just continues to stare at me. I’m actually not quite sure if he is blinking... or breathing, but he hasn’t fallen over yet, so I will just assume he’s good.
After an agonizing thirty seconds of stretched silence where I’m actually beginning to sweat at my failed attempt to remain still, he finally speaks again.
“Your training is inadequate. Perhaps this is a task that I should personally see to. That way, I can ensure the proper elimination of the threat once and for all.”
Flicking my gaze to Cordelia, I try very hard to hide the anger that begins to rise with his insinuations. The last thing I want is for Dagon to assume that I’m his personal weapon to train and wield. But dealing in the world of faction leaders is foreign territory for me, and I have no clue how to respond in a way that he doesn’t take to high offense.
What I really want to say is that he can just fuck right off. However, I don’t think that will go over well, given his position in the magickal community. I truly fucking hate politics.
Ever my savior, Cordelia jumps in with a quick response.
“I’m sorry, Dagon. I didn’t realize that Forsythia hadn’t quite left yet. She actually has a lead on the monster’s trail and is leaving immediately.” She addresses me quickly before Dagon can interject. “I’m so glad that you got to meet our beloved Dagon, and I do apologize for keeping you Forsythia. I have already prepared some food for you and have added them to your pack.”
She keeps everything moving quickly, and I almost struggle to keep up as she grasps my forearm in hers. The gesture is a symbol of our friendship, though I can feel how badly she wishes to hug me. It wouldn’t be wise to let Dagon know that our attachment has grown that deeply, or he may attempt to use that angle to his advantage and trick me into agreeing to stay longer.
I fear it would work. I love this woman too much not to do as she asked.
She releases me and waves me on before adding, “We won’t keep you. I know that you are anxious to head out. Please accept my gratitude for all of the help you gave to our people during the attack.” She nods and turns back to Dagon, wrapping her arm around his and talking to distract his attention while I slip into her house.
I make sure to keep my strides confident and not look back, even though I can feel his gaze bearing a hole into the back of my head.
Feeling a pang of sadness at having to leave the woman I have grown so fond of in such a short time, I focus on the fact that what she said is true. Well, not about the lead per se, but it’s definitely time for me to leave. I just wish I didn’t feel so uneasy about leaving her .
Taking a steadying breath once the front door is closed behind me, I push forward and make my way quickly towards the room that I have called ‘mine’ for nearly two weeks now. The room is much like the rest of the house. Simple, warm, with an almost sea-like vibe. From the light blue-gray walls, to the sandy-colored wood fixtures, it truly is lovely. When all of this is over, I want to come back here and spend more time with Cordelia and the merfolk. Spend more time in the place that truly feels like home.
Well, almost. It’s just missing a certain sexy, grumpy hybrid that just so happens to hold part of my soul.
Ew, where did those mushy ideas come from?
I shake my head and try to dislodge the weird feelings that reside somewhere a bit lower and focus instead on the house. I’m just going on a quest. That’s right, this isn’t “‘goodbye”’ forever. It’s just a “’goodbye”’ for now .
That last thought buoys my mood more and helps me to press forward.
Once I reach the room, I secure the door behind me and peek inside my pack. Cordelia has already packed all of my things and… score! There’s a bundle of foods that Cordelia had mentioned. She is an amazing cook, so I am beyond grateful to have one less thing to worry about with all of this.
Spotting my boots and socks on the floor beside the pack, I drop to the floor and quickly slip on the socks. I slide on each boot and then begin working the laces, focused intently on the mundane task at hand that I didn’t hear anyone slip inside the room behind me. So, when someone begins to speak, I think that my reactions are fully justified.
I calmly address the voice and then finish with my boots before leaving the merfolk village–
Stop laughing! It’s not completely outrageous that I might have had a somewhat normal reaction for once.
Oh fine...
I jump up and scream like someone bit me hard on the nipple while flinging a fireball right at the intruder’s nuts. Assuming that they do in fact, have nuts.
Maybe one day I will be a calm person with reserved and calculated reactions.
I said stop laughing!
Having no clue what the person said, I’m holding out one hand with another fireball on the ready, and… yep, I’m wielding my boot in the other like some kind of floppy sword. Maybe I plan to slap the intruder after burning off their eyebrows?
Yeah, ok. I know I looked ridiculous as fuck right now. No need to rub it in.
Ugh...why do I have to be such a hot mess all the time?
“Easy there, little dragon! I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Calming my breathing, I lower my super-threatening weapons and assess the intruder. It’s the man that looks like a younger copy of Dagon, although his voice is much more sweet and he has a huge smile on his face, making him the much more attractive version of the two. The other differences I notice are his white eyes and the waterball he has in his hand. Actually, I’m pretty sure that my fire is inside that waterball. Uh... his ball.
Why does that sound so damn dirty?
I think my brain is just short-circuited to think about sex as much as possible until I get Blake between my legs.
Woah! I mean...oh fuck it. If he is my soul-bond mate than I’m allowed to want him. I refuse to be ashamed of that.
Blinking those steamy thoughts away, I realize that I should probably deal with this situation before thinking about jumping my man. After all, I’m in a time crunch. Foregoing the semblance of politeness, I choose to speak plainly. “What are you doing here?”
He absorbs the waterball-flame and all-before responding.
“Cordelia asked me to come and tell you that you need to be quick,” he says sincerely. “She can’t keep father distracted for long.” He says sincerely.
Nodding, I sit down and begin to put on my other boot before working the laces into place. Once that’s finished, I stand and sling the pack over my shoulder. With my pack securely in place, I am ready to leave and turn to the man once again.
“Thank you for passing along the message, uhm…” Holy shit, I’m just the epitome of poise today. I don’t have a single fucking clue what his name is!
He chuckles softly, and the sound reminds me of Blake, although his sound is a little deeper. This time, the thought of Blake brings a pinch of pain to my chest.
“My name is Ronan. I am Dagon’s second-born son. Well, not if you ask my twin brother, Kale, but that still doesn’t make my statement any less correct. Anyways, it’s a pleasure to have met you, Forsythia.”
I notice that while he looks at me when he speaks, it’s almost as if he is looking through me. Then that crazy lightbulb in my head finally flicks on, and I realize why his eyes are pure white. He’s blind.
So wait… how the actual fuck did a blind man manage to catch my ball when I can’t even get a good grip on my balls myself?
I barely manage to hold back the snort.
See? Everything that I think sounds so damn dirty!
He tilts his head and speaks quickly. “Time is up, I am afraid. I hear them coming to the front of the house. I will go out and distract them long enough for you to slip out of the back.”
Fine, I will think about Ronan’s impressive ball handling later. What the?
Ok, I really need to have sex soon because I can’t stop thinking about balls now. My vagina picks the weirdest times to show up to the party.
I shake my head, but then remember he can’t see me, so I speak up quickly.
“It’s okay. I can sneak out faster than all of that. Thank you for the heads up though.” I don’t wait for him to answer and stick my hand out in front of me, stepping outside the merfolk village in an instant, thanks to my transport magicks.
While I’m grateful to have escaped that situation quickly, I have another more daunting task in front of me.
The forest out here is much thicker, but the path leading to the road is decently sized and hard -packed dirt, making travel much easier with the two small wheels.
I glare at Blake’s bike as if my mean mugging will make any bit of a difference in my yet-to-be-desired driving abilities.
So I guess I’m taking the damn bike.
It sits partially hidden in the bush in the same spot where Blake left it when we arrived. Well, except for the times I’ve pulled it out and attempted to practice with it. Cordelia never leaves her village, so she was no help at all in this matter. She even offered to secure some sort of water transport, but that won’t help when the direction I’m being pulled is further inland.
I don’t think she is all that excited about me driving this thing either.
“Alright pal, we have had some good trial runs, but now is the real deal. We can do this... I think.” I sigh heavily. I have no problem riding the bike. I’m just not so confident operating the thing.
But, if I want to get this show on the road, this is my best shot. After all, I haven’t been able to use my transport ability when heading into places I’ve never been before. It’s not that I haven’t tried because that would be incredibly convenient. But when I attempted it, it was like everything fell silent for a moment, and then nothing. Nothing at all happens.
Hmm…
I wonder what would happen if I transported to some place, but was someone else already there? Would I just like, knock them over?
Visions of human horror movies flash inside my memory. Oh no! What if I was transported to a spot where someone else already was, and then I was kind of inside of them? And not in a sexy way, either. Rather in an “‘our insides are now our outsides”’ kind of way. Where we just flop about as this conjoined monster of goo and die a horrible, painful death after only minutes of our shared existence on this plane.
That was just...gross…
What the actual fuck is wrong with my brain? It’s like it starts thinking a bunch of weird shit whenever I get nervous. If it’s not vivid mouth -watering sex scenes, then it’s something truly terrifying, like zombies or inside-out goo monsters.
Shaking my head, I try to dislodge the image that seems to have burned itself inside that serves as the perfect example as to why I should never watch human films.
Letting out a deep breath, I grip tightly to my tiny shred of confidence and snag my helmet. Once it’s snuggly in place, I grab ahold of one handlebar, kick up the leany-lever thingy, and gently roll the bike backward until it’s out of the bush and on the path.
There. That wasn’t so hard. Granted that is literally the easiest part of this whole fiasco, but still. One step.
I take one last steadying breath, but before I can swing my leg over to straddle the machine, a warm hand engulfs the one currently holding the bike up.
A massive hand.
My eyes follow the hand. Tracing up an enormous bicep that is brushed by long wavy hazelnut hair. The hair surrounds and partly shrouds the handsome face that goes with it. But it’s his eyes that pull me.
Two bright copper-red orbs that seem to stare straight into my soul.
And tug me closer.