Chapter Six
Owen laughed when we pulled into the parking lot of the Toronto Humane Society.
“I had you, didn’t I?”
“I’ll admit. I may have been ready to go into full bodyguard mode during this friends’ date.”
My stomach flipped, and I couldn’t stop smiling as Owen filled out the paperwork allowing him to accompany me. We collected three very excited dogs: a goldendoodle named Lenny, a husky-shepherd mix named Chief, and a black mixed breed called Jake.
“There are some lovely trails nearby,” I explained as we filed out the door and began our walk.
At first my eyes darted everywhere, expecting the four men to jump us any second, but when I saw Owen scanning the trail in both directions as well as the woods around us, my grip on the leashes eased. Owen wouldn’t let anyone past him. Of that, I was sure.
“How long have you been volunteering with animals?” Owen asked, halting abruptly as Lenny dashed in front of him on the trail of a fresh scent. I handled all three dogs since Owen hadn’t had the required training.
“Since I was a teenager,” I replied, pulling Lenny out of Owen’s path. “I was going through a rough time, and a teacher recommended I start helping animals as an outlet.”
“Have you ever owned a pet? You must be tempted to adopt.”
“Oh, I’m always tempted,” I said, laughing, “but I don’t have the time or money to own one myself.” That wasn’t entirely true. I was reluctant to open my heart to pets. The devastation upon losing them would be too much to bear.
Owen didn’t press the issue, although I suspected he knew there was more to my reluctance than simply time and finances.
“How many animals would you own? If money and time weren’t issues,” Owen asked.
I didn’t hesitate. “Three dogs and four cats.”
We both laughed. “And I’d own a great big library with a fireplace, and the animals and I would spend most of our time there.”
“Isn’t that what you already do? Spend your days in the library?” he teased.
“Yes.” I smiled. “But I mean my own library. In my own house in the country.” And there would be someone special to share it with. Despite having been burned by Todd, I was a hopeless romantic.
“I like the peacefulness of getting out of the city,” I added.
“I understand. I’ve always loved smaller towns and rural areas myself.”
“You don’t miss military life and living on the bases?”
“Honestly? No. I do miss the friends I’ve made over the years and having a team to train with and go on missions. But I’m feeling older these days. Thinking of selling the company and taking early retirement. Maybe even settling down soon.” He shot me a sideways glance.
“What are your plans once you retire?” I asked, refusing to read into his look.
His answer, like mine, was immediate. “Travel the world and visit as many countries as I can. Do you like to travel?”
“I like hearing about other people’s trips. Charles’s stories about his adventures in faraway places are fascinating, but I only camped as a kid.”
“Nothing wrong with camping, but would you visit other countries?”
“I’m not sure I’d have the courage to go by myself.”
He cleared his throat. “Would you go with someone?”
“Maybe.” Was he asking if I would go with him? Surely not. I was tired and imagining things, but I decided to clarify my answer anyway. “Yes. If I trusted them.”
Owen’s phone buzzed, and I saw Dad pop up on the screen before he shoved it back in his pocket.
“No point picking up,” he explained. “We’ve had the same conversation a million times.”
“That bad?”
“He refuses to accept that I don’t want to rejoin the military. What’s your father like? Hopefully less bullheaded than mine.”
I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. “Both my parents died when I was young. Car crash. No siblings.”
“Shit. I’m sorry, Kira. I shouldn’t have said—”
“No. It’s fine. You had no way of knowing.”
“That must have been tough. If you don’t mind me asking, how old were you when they passed?”
“Twelve. It’s okay.” It wasn’t okay at all, but what was I supposed to say?
“Who raised you then?”
“I was in and out of different foster homes until I turned eighteen.”
A low groan sounded behind me, and my heart stuttered. I let out a yelp as I spun to face the threat, but it was only two tree branches rubbing together.
“Easy,” Owen murmured. “I’ve got you.”
I nodded, taking a deep breath and feeling myself relax as the almost meditative padding of the dogs’ paws, the jingling of their collars, and their soft panting filled the autumn air. Our steps whispered along the forest floor, while the canopy above showed hints of ambers, crimsons, and golds.
Occasionally, while attempting to avoid wayward dogs, Owen meandered closer.
As he stepped around one, he placed his hand on the small of my back and a thrill rippled through me.
He let his touch linger before stepping away, and I felt bereft without it.
Another time one of the leashes pulled my hand toward his, so our fingers brushed.
Each tentative touch filled my heart with hope even as I berated myself for once again reading too much into the situation.
Near the end of the walk, I paused while the dogs sniffed and lifted my face to the sky. My eyes closed, I breathed in the scents of damp earth, fallen leaves, and the faint sweetness of apples.
When I opened my eyes, I found Owen watching me, his eyes dark and unreadable.
“I love fall,” I murmured self-consciously. A lock of hair fluttered across my cheek, but I couldn’t brush it back because my hands were full of leashes.
“Why’s that?” he asked, brushing the hair over my shoulder, his fingers trailing lightly across my skin. Now I couldn’t move because I was transfixed by Owen’s expression, and I didn’t want to chance breaking the spell.
He’d asked me a question. I needed to focus.
“What?” I whispered.
Owen’s expression softened.
“Why do you love the fall?” he whispered back.
Right. “It’s the cozy season.” I fought to slow my heart. “I love everything about it—sweaters and pumpkins and lattes. The colours of the leaves. The cool, crisp air. And…”
“And what?” He curled a finger around a lock of my hair, rubbing it between his fingers, his knuckles gently stroking my neck. Goosebumps rose along my arms.
“I’ve always thought of autumn as a slow farewell. A season of letting go.”
He looked surprised. “Is there something you need to let go of?”
Everything. My past. My guilt. My many, many failures.
Before I could answer, a leash wrapped around my hip, and I was thrown to the side. Chief had spotted a squirrel and given chase.
Owen’s hand shot out to steady me, but Jake caught sight of the squirrel as well and lunged after it, wrapping his leash around Owen’s legs. We were suddenly a tangle of leashes and barking dogs.
Owen steadied me while I called the dogs and tried to disentangle us. We both started apologizing and then laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.
“If you step that way… Maybe lift your arm?”
“Chief, come! Lenny, don’t you dare!”
The leashes tightened more as the chattering squirrel jumped to another branch, and the dogs attempted to follow it.
Owen and I were thrown against each other, and I was fully aware of the hard length of his body pressed against every inch of mine and his arms bracing us both.
Owen stilled completely, and I forgot the dogs as I looked up into his eyes.
I wanted to kiss him. The thought came swiftly, chased by fear. We were too close. It was too soon. I felt trapped, and it had nothing to do with leashes.
I drew back. Owen quickly broke eye contact and pulled two dogs back by the collars. He had us straightened in record time, and I couldn’t help but wonder at his efficiency. Had he allowed the tangled leashes to draw us closer on purpose, and only pretended to struggle with untangling them?
I peeked at him suspiciously, unsure if I should be impressed or concerned, but Owen wandered along the path as if nothing had happened, and I was left more confused than ever.
Charles’s idea of hosting dinner was Owen and I picking up takeout on the way to his place. Neither of us minded, and a short while later we entered his house carrying bags of Thai food. I couldn’t wait to eat—I was famished after our time at the gym and walk in the woods.
“Come in!” Charles called from the living room, where Jace was already seated.
I gave Charles’s hand a gentle squeeze in greeting as I passed him on my way to the kitchen.
We gathered around the table, munching on spring rolls and pad Thai.
It was cozy and homey and the first family dinner I had experienced in a long time.
“How do four men escape a modern prison?” Jace asked after we had updated him and Charles.
“Life is full of the unexplainable,” Charles said, helping himself to some fried rice. Then he fixed Owen and me with a steady gaze. “What are your plans for tomorrow?”
“Oh…” I hesitated, unsure how to answer that. Would Owen want to spend more time with me? Would he continue to protect me? I felt a flash of panic at the idea of being alone.
Owen spoke after a quick glance at me. “I’m supposed to be in Vancouver for the next week. Flying tomorrow. Business trip. But—”
“Business trip?” Charles barked, and I startled at the intensity of his tone. “Why are you leaving for a business trip? Wouldn’t you rather spend the time courting a beautiful woman?”
My face turned beet red while Owen gave his grandfather a flat-eyed stare. Jace tried without success to stifle his laughter.
I felt a twinge of disappointment but reminded myself that a week wasn’t that long. Perhaps I would see Owen when he returned? But what would I do about my classes in the meantime? The police officer had told me to not go out alone.
“And who’s going to protect Ms. Kira while you’re gone?” Charles narrowed his eyes at Owen, who let out a sigh.
“I’m going to cancel—”
“It’s okay,” I quickly interjected, hating that Owen might feel obligated to change his plans for my sake. Charles had already strong-armed him into taking me to his self-defence class. “Owen should go on his trip. I’m sure it’s important. Maybe there’s another bodyguard he could assign to me.”
“I’m not trusting someone else to protect you,” Owen muttered, his expression dark.
Charles glanced between us before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.”
“Ms. Kira,” he said more loudly, pointing at a box near me, “bring that over here, please. The box labelled Fortingall Dig, 1963. Yes, that’s the one. Owen, help me to the living room. I want to sit in my favourite chair.”
As I handed the box to Charles, it slipped and fell to the floor. The contents spilled across the carpet, and a plume of dust and dirt rose into the air making us both cough.
“I’m so sorry, Charles!” Jace and Owen rushed to help me gather the scattered items.
“No harm done, Ms. Kira,” Charles said, reaching over the side of his chair to right the box. “Most likely my fault.”
My fingers closed around something warm and humming, and I opened my hand to see a strange, triangular black stone, etched with a symbol I didn’t recognize. It glowed and pulsed faintly under my touch, like the rhythm of a heartbeat.
“The Rootstone. One of the three stones that formed Craos’s seal,” Charles breathed in awe. “I suspected it might be you, Ms. Kira.” His eyes lit with excitement and something else I couldn’t name. Like he had a thousand stories to tell me but too little time. He looked at his grandson.
“Take care of her, Owen, and use the sword!”
“What?!” Owen’s gaze flew to Charles as my world shifted in an instant.
Pure, raw power burst inside me like a dam breaking, roaring through my chest, stretching every nerve until I was sure I would shatter. The air itself bent around me, thickening with the weight of an ancient power not meant for a mortal body.
My back arched, and I screamed as a gateway cleaved the air, opening a wound in the space before me. I could hear distant shouting, but I could no longer see Owen or the others.
A vision of the past—a story—came to me, and I saw an ancient yew tree, the sky above it split into a swirling vortex of smoke and flame. The land turned crimson as a gateway opened to another realm, and a colossal horned demon crawled out, cloaked in fire. Its eyes glowed with hunger for dominion.
Craos.
Three cloaked figures rushed to intervene, raising their staffs beneath the bleeding sky. As they channelled the life force of nature into a binding seal, a black stone sigil formed, slamming into the gateway like a celestial lock.
Craos bellowed in rage, clawing at the shrinking portal. He lashed out, his blow shattering the seal mid-formation. The figures disintegrated into ash, their spirits scattering with the broken pieces of the seal that were carried away by earth, water, and fire.
The vision cleared and an oily, black voice licked up my spine and wrapped itself around my mind, speaking to me in a language I shouldn’t understand. I screamed, but I could no longer hear. I was fire and evil and death incarnate.
Kira, Craos hissed. I’ve been waiting for you.