Chapter Seventeen
Chapter 17
V alor spoke to Tamatha Bellerose on the phone as she and Kelyn walked down the tree-shaded Rue Henri to the eleventh arrondissement where the Council’s headquarters was located. A division of the Council, the Archives was a collection of articles, spells, grimoires, objects of a magical nature, creatures of mysterious origins, and other nefarious and possibly deadly items an organization such as the Council should keep in hand and under lock and spellbound key. Some things had been collected by Retrievers, other stuff was donated.
The Council was an overseeing body that didn’t so much govern the paranormal nations as watch and keep tabs.
Valor had heard the Archives had rooms designated for objects and history related to each species, and that the witches room was filled with every spell, grimoire and alchemical instrument a witch could ever dream to know. She was excited to look it over, but Tamatha had warned her she and Kelyn didn’t have clearance to simply browse about and take what they wished. Tamatha would have to obtain the skull dust—and she would, because she was behind helping Kelyn after Valor had explained the situation about his wings. And any family member of Johnny Santiago was a friend to her.
The only problem? Certainly Jones headed the Archives and he kept a tight hand on the contents. Visitors simply weren’t allowed access.
The good part of that problem? He wasn’t due in until later in the evening. He’d pulled babysitting duty for his twins this afternoon while his wife was out on a cleanup job. So Tamatha had suggested Valor and Kelyn hurry over. An infinitesimal amount of bone dust scraped from a skull? No one should miss that.
The headquarters was located in an unassuming four-story building that they only found because Kelyn suddenly paused and put out his hands as if to stop the ground from rising up.
“What is it?” Valor asked.
“I can feel it.”
“Feel what?”
“Everything.” He met her gaze with a wondrous little-boy grin. “It’s amazing.”
“Cool. You getting some of your navigation skills back?”
“Maybe. Paris does have a lot of ley lines running through it. The earth’s energies feel...welcoming.”
“That’s awesome. So...down that alley, you think?”
“Yes.” He took the lead, angling down a dark alleyway paved with uneven cobblestones. “You know, since we’re in Paris,” he called back, “maybe we should check out FaeryTown? I didn’t get a chance when I was here years ago for Johnny and Kam’s wedding.”
“Is that the place where Faery overlies the mortal realm? It’s a thin place, right? Maybe you can get to Faery through FaeryTown?”
“Not sure. I don’t think there are portals there. And if there are, you need to be in the know. You know?”
“Right, got it. This chick is so not in the know.”
“FaeryTown is just a sad, sorry place where faeries exist in mortal space.” Kelyn’s long strides moved him so swiftly Valor had to double-time to keep up. “The inhabitants either left Faery or were born here. Lots of dust addicts there, too, or so I’ve heard. You know Johnny’s dad, Vaillant, used to be addicted to ichor?”
“Yeah, vamps and faery dust. Not cool.” Valor joined him at a metal door set into the brick wall, but neither of them knocked, as Tamatha had requested. “So, are you going to take me to an ichor den later and show me a good time?”
“How about we climb the Eiffel Tower and kiss at the top of the world?”
“I like that idea. How’d you get to be such a romantic?”
“It’s easy around you, Valor.” Leaning up against her, he blocked her in against the wall. His violet gaze enchanted her. “You challenge me, and yet you always accept, as well. Even when I’m doing the grumpy faery thing. Do you know how rare that is for a guy who’s always had trouble dating?”
“Why the trouble?”
He swiped a trace of faery dust from her neck and showed her. “I’m so over dating club girls with glitter makeup in order to hide my dust.”
“That must be difficult.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m not much for dating, myself,” she lied. “Too complicated. So many expectations.”
“Right?”
“I mean, who wants to fall in love and have to commit to the one person?” She did! She so wanted that.
“Commitment.” Kelyn shook his head with disdain. “So, uh, we’re not dating, right?”
She hadn’t expected that one, but Valor shrugged and forced a nod. “’Course not.”
“But we’re lovers.” He tucked a kiss at the base of her earlobe.
“So you’re thinking more like friends with benefits?” Please say no , she thought.
“Honestly? I’m not cool with that.”
His kiss melted her tensions and Valor relaxed against his hardness. She shouldn’t have lied to him, but she didn’t know how to put that intimate desire out there. To be mocked and disregarded.
“I want you as more than a friend,” he said.
“I want the same thing.”
She was ready to show him exactly how much she wanted him by sliding her hand down his jeans when the door creaked open and out popped a silver-haired witch. The twosome straightened and tugged at their clothing as if they’d been caught making out behind the pews by the Sunday school teacher.
Tamatha Bellerose resembled a retro rocker with her green wiggle skirt and white-and-black polka-dot blouse that revealed tattoos on her arms, fingers and neck. She wore her silver hair in victory rolls and had a lovely rose blush to her cheeks that drew attention to her bright green eyes.
“Valor Hearst?”
Valor shook her hand. “Indeed. Wow. You’ve got some power in that hand. More than air magic?”
Tamatha pointed out the sigil for the elements on each finger as she said, “Earth, air, water and, on occasion, fire. I can feel your vita, too. You’ve walked this soil almost as long as I have. Nice to meet you. And this is?” She turned an admiring gaze up to Kelyn, who thrust back his shoulders at the feminine attention.
“Kelyn Saint-Pierre.” He shook her hand and she held it.
“Of the infamous Saint-Pierres? Wow. You all get around this planet, don’t you? But you’re not wolf. You’re faery. Nice.” She rubbed his hand with her palm. “I can feel what’s missing from you. Oh, darling, you need to get back your wings before it’s too late.”
“Too late?” Valor hadn’t thought there was a deadline.
“What do you mean?” Kelyn asked the witch.
Tamatha took his other hand and closed her eyes. Valor guessed she was reading his vita. Something she’d not thought to do. She could do that, but she wasn’t expert at delving into past lives or anything beyond current events.
“You’ve been weak and unable to shift since it happened,” Tamatha said, but the statement ended as a question.
Kelyn nodded.
“A faery’s wings are his life. As strong as you are, you will only grow weaker. I’m sorry.” She dropped his hands. “Sometimes I get feelings about people, and they’re always accurate. Anyway...” She tugged a blue glass vial out from the waistband of her skirt and handed it to Valor. “The Skull of Sidon was discovered a few years ago by archaeologist Annja Creed.”
“Why does that name sound familiar?” Kelyn asked.
“She used to have a TV show about history and archaeological stuff.”
“Oh, right. Chasing History’s Monsters ,” he said. “I loved that show. Used to watch it all the time when I was a kid.”
“I watched a few reruns after we obtained the skull, for curiosity’s sake,” Tamatha said. “That woman can kick butt and she’s smart. Anyway, the skull was rumored to have been destroyed after Creed found it, but of course, we stepped in and made sure that didn’t happen. Gotta keep tabs on all the supernatural stuff floating about in this realm, ya know?” She tapped the vial. “I scraped that from inside the left occipital hollow. No one is ever going to know it’s missing.”
“Unless of course...”
All three turned at the deep male voice that echoed from down the alleyway.
Certainly Jones’s tall, lithe figure flashed out of shadow as he straightened his shoulders. “That no one is me.”