Death Bringer

“Gay Linda?”

“Gey-ei-landah.” He repeated slowly. “If you forget to brush your hair one morning. You could fix the problem while you were driving to work without taking your hands off the steering wheel—not that doing that seems to bother you much anyway.”

She sat forward. “Are you saying my hair is a mess?”

“I’m not saying anything. I’m just giving you an example.”

“Fine. I should’ve known cleaning things would be your favorite spell.” She sighed and closed her eyes. As he watched, her hair magically rearranged itself into two neat shining braids.

“Did it work?”

“Yes.” His smile was enough to have her running to the mirror.

“I look like a Swedish tourist.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

She returned to her seat, fingering one of her braids. “Now, if you’ve finished prevaricating, do you want to tell me what’s really going on?”

“I think I’ve told you most of it.”

“Bullshit, Morosov. I know how your devious Fae mind works. Even if I can’t quite access all the important bits, I can still sense when you’re hiding things from me.”

She could?

Damn.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Perhaps it was time for the truth. “That you need to be on your guard, and that I would prefer it if we stayed together at all times.”

She wrapped her arms around her drawn-up knees and rested her chin on them. “You’re afraid for me?”

“You’re my mate. Otherworld knows that. You will be used against me.”

“Do you think I’d let myself be used?”

“Not intentionally.”

“Well, thanks for that, at least.” She considered him for a long moment. “What can I do to make myself less vulnerable?”

“You’re taking this much better than I thought you would.”

She shrugged. “Otherworld is your world. I’m a liability for you there. I don’t want to be one, so I’d like to improve our odds.”

“I appreciate that. With my magic, you aren’t without power. You just need to learn how to use it.”

“Can you teach me?”

“Not in time.” He grimaced. “I fear that someone will come after me fairly soon.”

“And when you say after you, you really mean after me, don’t you?”

“You heard what Rossa said. Otherworld is interested in us.”

“That’s right, he did say that. Why are your parents fighting over you?”

“I’m something of a divisive force. The maternal line wants me back in Otherworld to carry out its wishes, and my father wishes me in hell.” He held her gaze. “I’ll do everything in my power to prevent you from being taken.”

“I know that.”

“It would also be better if you didn’t go to Otherworld in the near future.”

“Got it. Not that I want to go back to Merton ever again. I’ll send Sam to pick up the photos tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s been a horrible day, and tomorrow isn’t going to be any easier. How on earth are we supposed to know what kind of victim Adam will choose next?”

“Going by his previous behavior, it will be close by, and fairly soon.”

She shivered. “Somehow this feels really personal.” She glanced up at him. “Do you feel that too?”

“Yes.”

Because it was.

He’d tangled with the sect in the past many times. But he wasn’t in a position to reveal that to Ella yet. He hoped he never had to. It was going to be difficult to keep her safe while trying to solve his issues with Adam.

“Is there anything else you want to ask me?”

She uncurled her legs and stretched. “Loads, but I can’t think straight.”

“Then shall we go to bed?”

“Sure.”

Her smile made him forget sleep and immediately think of sex. He rose to his feet and held out his hand, and she took it. He instantly felt better, more connected and safer. His mother always insisted that love was a cage. He could feel it all around him now, but somehow it was less frightening than he had imagined. If only Ella could see it that way too. But then how would she survive his inevitable death? He followed her into bed and held her close. Perhaps she was right not to allow anyone near her—especially him.

Chapter Seven

“What the hell’s that?”

Ella looked up as Sam and Rich manhandled another desk in through her office door and dumped it right next to hers.

“It’s for Vad.” Sam beamed at her. “Now that he’s your official partner, he, like, needs his own space.”

“So do I,” Ella muttered as the object of her ire sauntered through the door. “There isn’t enough room for two of us in here.”

“We can make room.”

He pointed out exactly where he wanted the desk to be placed, and Sam and Rich obligingly moved it into position for him.

“I’ll get your desktop and set it up for you. It won’t take a minute.”

“Thanks, guys.” Vadim patted Rich on the back. “I appreciate it.”

She gave up the attempt to work and watched as a parade of boxes and office equipment joined the desk and its smiling owner. Her phone rang and she let it go to voice mail. There was no way she’d be able to hear a thing, with the racket they were making. She tried to study the list she was compiling, but that proved impossible too. Eventually she looked up.

“Have you finished yet?”

Vadim gave her a charming smile. He looked remarkably well for a man who’d been covered in glass the previous day. She wondered if the cleanup spell he’d taught her worked on bumps and bruises...

“It can, but you have to be careful, or else you could overdo the power of the spell and end up looking like you’ve had plastic surgery or something.”

“Thanks for the clarification. Now get out of my head.”

Rich set up Vadim’s desktop computer and phone line while Sam sat in his chair and spun himself around in circles.

Ella looked up again. “Don’t you have somewhere else you need to be, Sam?”

He stopped spinning. “Not really, I was just waiting to tell you that Mr. Feehan wants us all in the conference room at eleven.”

“Thanks. Maybe you could let Morosov try out his chair now?”

“Oh, sure, dude.” Sam leaped to his feet and then swayed. “Man, I’m like, so dizzy right now.”

Ella forced herself not to state the obvious and merely observed his unsteady progress out through the door.