Chapter 4 #3
Keeva nodded, then hung her head, suddenly appearing a bit sheepish.
“’Tis I who should apologize. Forgive me, Lyla.
I’m tired too, but shouldn’t allow that to make me snippy.
” She pointed at the skeleton key on the kitchen counter.
“There’s yer key. I’ll leave ye to yer relaxing, then and get on with a bit of resting myself.
Ye have my number. Call me if ye need anything, aye? ”
“I will.” Teeth clenched, Lyla wished Keeva would just leave already. She really liked the girl, but there was such a thing as too much togetherness, especially when lack of sleep and multiple time zones were involved. “Thank you for everything. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Keeva smiled and went to the door. “Aye, my talented friend. Good rest to ye. May yer dreams ease ye into the wonder of Scotland’s magical arms.”
“Indeed.” When the door clicked behind Keeva, Lyla exhaled.
“Thank goodness.” She grabbed the tote she’d dropped on the couch when she’d sagged into the cushions and carried it into the bedroom.
Sparse but clean and designed for comfort, the room had everything she needed: a plump double bed that looked like it was made for sleeping late into the morning, a huge oak wardrobe instead of a closet, a sweet little dressing table with a large oval mirror, and a small lizard catching the last rays of the afternoon sun on the window ledge.
It kept its iridescently golden eyes trained on her, watching her every move.
“I’ll make you a deal, Mr. Lizard. We can happily coexist in this space as long as you stay out of my bed and eat any bugs you come across.
I don’t have a problem with you visiting, but I don’t particularly want to touch you or wake up and find you sitting on me. Okay?”
The reptile blinked, and she took that as a positive sign.
“And bonus points if you can help me figure out who keeps talking to me in my head.”
The lizard lifted its head higher and blinked—twice in rapid succession.
She released a heavy sigh. “I know. But I promise I’ve never been nuts before.
Hopefully, it’s a passing phase brought on by stress.
” As she unpacked and lined up her shoes and boots on the floor beside the wardrobe, she turned back to her tiny, scaly roommate.
“Oh, and don’t hide in my shoes. That might not end well if I forget and put them on without checking to make sure you’re not in there first.” That prospect made her shudder.
After finding her toiletries and favorite pair of flannel pajamas, she headed to the bathroom only to discover that it had a vintage, free-standing, claw-foot bathtub and no shower.
Disappointed, since she didn’t particularly like sitting in her own filth, she shrugged.
There was nothing to be done about it other than embrace it, and once she sank into the steaming water, her tensed muscles voted unanimously that it wasn’t all that bad at all.
“Ye are beautiful beyond compare, dear Lyla. A virtual goddess.”
“Do you mind? I’m in the tub and would like a little privacy,” she said to the man in her head, her raspy voice echoing in the acoustics of the tiled room.
She covered herself as much as she could with the oversized washcloth.
“You’re creeping me out bad enough by just talking to me.
Don’t talk to me while I’m naked. Agreed? ”
“Ye are quite right, my lady. Forgive me.”
Damn. Now the voice answered her? She sank lower in the tub until the surface of the water touched her chin, which was ridiculous since the water was clear.
What did she think she was possibly hiding?
She grabbed another washcloth off the shelf beside her and spread it across her top half while tugging the other washcloth more prudishly across her bottom bits.
“You better be gone. I need to relax in here for a while.”
The voice didn’t answer, which she found somewhat disappointing.
Closing her eyes, she sank lower, completely submerged, and stayed under until the count of ten.
Then she pushed up, washed her hair, and rinsed it, all the while feeling as if someone was watching.
Then she noticed the lizard had moved from the bedroom to the radiator in the bathroom, observing her with beady-eyed interest.
“Go away,” she told it. She balled up a soggy washcloth. “It’s rude to spy on a woman in the bathroom. Don’t make me throw this at you.”
It turned tail and skittered away.
“I give up.” The ability to relax in the bath now completely lost to her, she rose and wrapped herself in a fluffy white towel that was pleasantly warmed by the heated towel rack. That was a nice and unexpected discovery.
She dried off, dressed in her flannel pajamas and ratty house slippers, then shuffled back into the main living area and checked on the fire.
A damp cold still permeated the place, and she couldn’t figure out why.
Making the rounds, she touched all the radiators and found each of them hot to the touch.
The apartment should have been as hot as an oven, but it simply wasn’t.
She had to be coming down with something.
She downed a couple of aspirin just to be on the safe side.
A small, glossy black spinet across the room made her frown. Hadn’t Keeva said they didn’t have a piano that size? Leaving her glass of water on the kitchen counter, she went to check out the instrument. “Aren’t you a little beauty?”
She ran her hand across the smooth painted surface of the fallboard, then lifted it and folded it back to reveal the pristine ivory keys. “Someone has taken very good care of you.”
Seating herself on the bench, she ever so gently fluttered her fingers across the keys, playing a simple melody.
“Lovely sound and perfectly tuned. My name’s Lyla, and I am so happy to meet you.
” She glanced up from the keys and discovered the lizard was now perched on top of the piano, watching her. “Hello, Mr. Lizard. Do you like music?”
It stared at her, then finally blinked once.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Closing her eyes, she played the song that had filled her dreams ever since she was a little girl.
The song she’d written for violin, flute, and piano—the old friend who had helped her through some of the most difficult times of her life.
All her tension, all her worries, melted away as they always did when the melody, the soft, gently lilting song of her soul, filled the air.
She’d worry about all the weird stuff later.
For now, she had her music, and that was enough.
Unable to look away, powerless to stop watching her, Magnus wished he could shift into the form of a common lizard just as Talon had, so he might join her.
But he couldn’t. Shapeshifting was not one of his powers.
But he could view the lovely Lyla with Rurik’s scale.
The ancient’s scrying gift had even granted him that ability without the benefit of Talon’s blood to activate its powers.
Not only that, but he could speak with Lyla, and she could speak with him, a rare gift from the divining scale.
It had to be a sign that this lady was indeed the one of the prophecy.
She had to be his fated mate—the one who would heal the Thirteenth Realm.
He closed his eyes and allowed his consciousness to float along with the ethereal melody she played.
That song surely possessed the power to heal anything.
A sly smile came to him unbidden as the image of her soaking in her bath filled his mind.
His palms itched to cup her smallish yet perfect breasts and slide his hands across the slippery wetness of her body.
Long and lean, with nothing voluptuous about her, she was almost fae-like—as delicate and airy as the music she coaxed from the box with the ivory teeth.
Rurik’s scale had allowed him a glimpse of her past, when she could still sing.
The purity of her voice had sent chills to the very core of his soul.
A heavy sigh escaped him as he opened his eyes and watched her dance her fingertips across the instrument. If only she still had her voice, he’d have no doubt whatsoever that she was the healer they all needed—the one his heart and soul needed most of all.
“You have to be the one,” he said, but kept the words from passing to her. The longer he watched her, the longer he played the dangerous game of what if, the more he realized that if she wasn’t the one, it would not be an easy discovery to bear.