Chapter 10 #2
Fenric spotted me and made his way to the pool, his posture rigid even in the flowing spa garments. He entered the water with precise movements, as if he'd calculated the exact angle and speed required for optimal immersion.
"How was your massage?" I was trying not to laugh at his discomfort.
"Adequate," he sniffed. "Though the attendant used excessive pressure on the trapezius muscles."
"Heaven forbid," I rolled my eyes.
Before Fenric could respond, another door opened, and Milo bounded in, followed by what appeared to be three of his miniature skeletons, each wearing tiny towels around their bony waists.
"This place is amazing!" Milo exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement. "They let me bring Jeffrey and the others! They said as long as they don't dive into the pool, it's fine!"
The skeletons lined up at the edge of the pool and began performing what looked like a synchronized swimming routine on dry land, complete with dramatic poses.
"Milo," Fenric's voice was strained, "I'm quite certain I specified no necromantic entities during our relaxation period."
"But they're helping!" Milo protested. "Look how relaxing their performance is!"
One of the skeletons attempted a pirouette, lost its balance, and toppled into a nearby table of aromatherapy oils. Bottles crashed to the floor, their contents mixing in a puddle that immediately began to emit purple smoke.
"Oops! Sorry!" Milo rushed over, his skeletons scurrying to help. They began mopping up the spill with their tiny towels, but only succeeded in spreading the mess further.
One of the attendants hurried over, but as she approached, she stepped in the oil mixture and suddenly turned a vibrant shade of blue from head to toe.
"Oh my goodness!" she gasped, staring at her now-azure hands. "That's not supposed to happen!"
"I'm so sorry!" Milo looked mortified. "Jeffrey, put that down! No, don't drink it!"
Fenric pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is precisely why Bureau regulation 89-C prohibits…"
"Oh, give it a rest," I interrupted. "It's just a little magical mishap. No one's hurt."
"I've turned blue!" the attendant protested.
"Blue is a lovely color," I offered. "Very soothing."
The attendant did not look soothed. I couldn't blame her.
As the chaos unfolded by the aromatherapy station, another door opened, and Zane strolled in.
He wore only loose drawstring pants that hung low on his hips, leaving his chest bare.
I tried not to stare, but it was difficult.
His copper skin gleamed in the soft light, and the lean muscles of his torso shifted as he moved.
"What did I miss?" He took in the blue attendant and Milo's apologetic fluttering.
"The usual," I gestured vaguely. "Magical mayhem courtesy of Team Prophecy."
Zane laughed, the sound warm and rich. He approached the edge of the pool where I sat.
"Mind if I join you?" His mismatched eyes met mine.
"It's a free pool," I shrugged, trying to sound casual despite the sudden flutter in my stomach.
He slipped into the water beside me, close enough that our shoulders almost touched. The water around him took on a faint green glow that complemented the blue surrounding me.
"How's the relaxation going?" His voice was lower now that he was next to me.
"Better than expected," I admitted. "Until the skeleton cabaret started."
Zane chuckled. "Milo means well."
"They all do, I suppose," I glanced at Fenric, who was now lecturing a second attendant about proper emergency response protocols. "Even Mr. Rulebook over there."
"He's just doing his job," Zane's defense of Fenric surprised me. "We all are."
"Even you?" I turned to look at him directly. "Is babysitting a walking prophecy disaster really what you signed up for when you became a yoga instructor?"
Something flickered in his eyes, amusement, but also something deeper. "There's a story there."
"I bet," I waited, hoping he'd elaborate.
Zane was quiet for a moment, watching the water ripple around us. When he spoke, his voice was thoughtful. "I spent two centuries hunting demons across dimensions. Did you know that?"
"Two centuries?" I blinked. "How old are you?"
"Old enough to know better, young enough to still make stupid decisions," he smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "The fae side of my family ages slowly. My mother's still around. Runs a fortune-telling booth in New Orleans. Hasn't aged a day in three hundred years."
"And the demon hunting?" I watched as Jeffrey tried to get in the water and Milo had to grab him before he managed to do it.
"It was the family business, on my father's side. He was human, but from a long line of hunters. Trained me from childhood." Zane traced patterns in the water with his finger. "I was good at it. Too good, maybe. When you excel at violence, people tend to point you toward more violence."
The casual way he said it made my heart ache. I could see it now, the careful control behind his relaxed demeanor, the vigilance beneath the easy smiles.
"What changed?" I touched his hand.
"I failed," his voice sad. "Big job, high-profile target. A greater demon that had been terrorizing a small town in Colorado. I tracked it for weeks, finally cornered it in an abandoned mine."
He fell silent, his eyes distant.
"What happened?" I prompted gently.
"It wasn't alone. Had a hostage, a little girl, couldn't have been more than seven. I hesitated." His jaw tightened. "That hesitation cost lives. Not the girl's, I managed to save her, but others in the town weren't so lucky."
"That's not failure," I argued. "You saved a child."
"The Bureau didn't see it that way. Neither did the council that hired me." His smile was bitter now. "I was suspended, investigated, and nearly had my license revoked."
"That's bullshit," I glared over at Fenric fiercely. "You made the right call."
Zane looked at me, surprised by my vehemence. "Maybe. But it made me question everything. What was I doing? Who was I becoming? Two hundred years of violence and death, for what?"
"So you became a yoga instructor?" I couldn't help the slight skepticism in my voice.
He laughed, a genuine sound this time. "Not immediately. First, I got very drunk for about three months. Then I wandered. Ended up in Nepal, at this tiny monastery perched on a mountainside. The monks there practiced a form of meditation that helped magical beings control their energy."
"And that led to downward-facing dog?"
"In a roundabout way," he nodded. "I stayed for five years. Learned to channel my energy differently, to build rather than destroy. When I came back to the States, I started teaching what I'd learned."
"And the Bureau just let you go? After all that time?"
"Not exactly," Zane's expression darkened. "They keep tabs on me. Every now and then, they call in a favor, like assigning me to protect a certain prophetic librarian with a talent for chaos."
"Lucky you," my tone dry.
"Lucky me," he agreed, but his tone suggested he might actually mean it.
Our eyes met, and something electric passed between us. The water around us seemed to warm, the blue and green glows intensifying where they merged.
"What about you?" Zane's voice was softer. "Any deep, dark secrets you're hiding behind those gray eyes?"
"Nothing as dramatic as century-spanning demon hunting," I smiled. "Just your average librarian with a bad knee and a prophecy problem."
"Somehow, I doubt anything about you is average." Zane's gaze was intense, making my pulse quicken.
The atmosphere between us had shifted, becoming charged with something I wasn't quite ready to name.
We were sitting closer now, though I couldn't remember either of us moving.
The sounds of the spa, Milo's cheerful chatter, Fenric's continuing lecture, and the gentle splash of water, seemed to fade into the background.
"Zane," I began, not sure what I was going to say.
"Hmm?" He leaned in slightly, his eyes dropping briefly to my lips.
"I…"
"WHERE IS THE POOL?" A familiar growl interrupted whatever I'd been about to say.
We both turned to see Rook standing in the doorway, looking surprisingly relaxed. His perpetual scowl had softened, his shoulders were no longer up around his ears, and he moved with a languid grace I'd never seen from him before.
"Rook?" I called, waving him over. "How was your massage?"
He approached the pool slowly, his amber eyes slightly unfocused. "They have magic hands," his tone missing its usual edge. "Actual magic hands. With extra fingers."
"The Moonstone Suite specializes in shifter relaxation techniques," Fenric explained from across the pool. "They use a combination of pressure point therapy and lunar energy alignment."
"Whatever they did, it worked," I laughed as Rook slid into the water with none of his usual vigilance. "I've never seen you without that scowl before."
"I don't scowl," Rook protested, then immediately scowled.
"There it is," Zane teased. "The famous Rook glower. We were worried they'd massaged it right out of you."
Rook grunted, but there was less hostility in it than usual. He settled into the water, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back against the pool's edge.
"See?" I nudged Zane. "Even Mr. Grumpy needed this."
"We all did," Zane agreed, his eyes still on me. "Some of us more than others."
The moment between us had been broken, but something lingered, a promise, perhaps, of a conversation to be continued.
Our peaceful interlude was short-lived, however. One of Milo's skeletons had discovered an unattended cart of towels and was now attempting to build a tower by stacking them precariously high.
"Jeffrey, be careful with those!" Milo called, but it was too late.
The tower toppled, sending towels flying in all directions. One landed on an attendant's head, momentarily blinding her. She stumbled, knocking into another cart laden with crystal bottles. The cart overturned with a tremendous crash, spilling its contents across the floor.