She looked up at the sky again, and her eyes held a sheen that told of tears. The burden she carried was palpable, the blame she accepted immutable and undeserved. There would be future days to tell her this guilt was misplaced, but now was the time to be quiet and listen to her story.
“Dad never blamed me,” she said, looking up at him with the defense of her father. “Dad never spoke about it much, except to say how much mom loved me, and he knew she was happy, because she finally got her little girl. When I turned twelve I tried to combine my birthday with a memorial for mom. Dad wouldn’t have it. He said that there were other days and other ways that we loved and honored mom. My birthday was a celebration that I’d been brought into this world.”
“Your father is a good man.”
“My dad’s the best.” Her eyes shone with pride. “My whole family is. I couldn’t have had better if I had been able to order them to my specifications. Well, except for the over-protectiveness.”
“Over-protective? Your father makes my Clan look permissive by comparison.”
She laughed. “You got that right. It’s probably one of the reasons I came to enjoy history so much – I got to investigate actions and ask questions and actually have them answered.” She took another deep breath, her mouth turning inward. “I can’t blame my dad too much, though. Dad was a cop during the Great Collision. Now that I’m older and realize how horrible the first few months were, and then the uncertainty the following couple years… I can’t blame dad. He did his best to care for and protect us while the world was going crazy and had taken his wife away from him.”
“That is all any of us can do, they best we can under the circumstances we are given.”
She nodded. Her fingers were curling themselves in his hair. The unconscious stroking soothed him, the intimacy of the act yet another chain binding him to her. “What about your parents? What were they like?”
The air shifted around him, its currents disturbed. He tightened his grip on her, pulling her close, so close her face smashed into his neck. “Terak, what’s wrong?”
From the left it whizzed by them, clipping his wing enough to throw him to the side until he righted himself.
“Terak?” and all pleasure was gone from her tone.
It came down from above several yards in front of him, far enough away that he could pull himself short and hover there, his wings flapping to keep them steady in the air.
A human woman, with Asian features and hair such a blinding color it hurt his eyes. “Boo.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Like I said, romantic. Can I call them or what?”
They landed some twenty feet away from the waiting group in a cleared section of woodland, far outside the city limits. It was Fallon who had called out to them, that giant sword strapped to her back, with the same combo of black leather-ish clothes, though this time she wore a coat that fell to the ground. Laire was standing to the right of the swordswoman, her outfit tonight a neon-blue ode-to-naughty Alice in Wonderland ensemble, full of lace and Victorian trappings, but if she bent over, Larissa was sure any underwear would be exposed to the world.
If she wore underwear.
Shaking off that thought, Larissa turned her attention to the third and final member of the gang. Her breath hitched as she beheld the newest woman, the same wonderment she experienced moments ago as she flew in Terak’s arms spreading through her now.
This woman’s height was average, but nothing else about her could be described that way. Her pale blue eyes glowed against the light tan of her skin and her long silky hair was so black it had a blue sheen in the moonlight. Her face had an appealing pixie-ish quality, but Larissa could tell nothing about her body, which was hidden underneath a long brown cloak.
A gust of wind ruffled her hair, giving a glimpse of a long neck, delicate jaw, and pointed ears.
“You’re an elf, aren’t you?”
The woman inclined her head. “I am Aislynn.” Her voice held the clear luster of ringing bells.
Being in front of an elf must not have had the same sense of awe for Terak, if his clenched jaw and the tight lines of his body were anything to go by. He said, “What is it you wish, Dragon Slayer?”
Dragon Slayer In reaction to his words Fallon held herself even straighter. Why would he call her Dragon Slayer?
Fallon said, “I make no move against you or yours, Clan Leader of the Gargoyles, but I wish to talk to this woman. She is a human who lives in the City, and thus is under my protection.”
“I saved her. Therefore, she is mine.” Terak’s voice pitched low while his clawed hands flexed, and while it held warning for the women in front of them, for her it sparked a heat spiraled through her torso and down the length of her body.