Crest (Ondine Quartet Book 3) (8 page)

Elementals who chose to leave communities and assimilate among humans had varied reasons for doing so.

But Phillip was obviously single so it wasn't because he'd fallen in love with a human. His build also suggested he enjoyed working out and taking care of his body.

His job was bureaucratic pencil-pushing behind a desk. Didn't quite seem like an even pay-off.

"No, it had nothing to do with that. I..." His smile faded, eyes locking on to Renee. "I just wanted to have a choice in what I did."

An awkward silence descended.

"We should go," Renee said woodenly. "Thanks for meeting with us."

I slowly stood, not wanting to be caught in the middle.

"Renee." A slight pleading note in his voice.

Discomfort inched up another few notches.

"I'll meet you outside," I muttered.

I left, shut the door behind me, and leaned against the wall.

Part of me wished they'd work out whatever was between them. Phillip seemed nice.

Or maybe I just felt that way because he reminded me of someone.

More demillirs chose to live outside elemental communities than ondines by a ratio of almost two to one. Given their natural vulnerability, it was much harder for ondines to survive without protection.

But that wasn't the only reason. Julian had achieved the highest ranking among chevaliers. As a Redavi whose mother was on the Governing Council, he also occupied the upper echelon of the social stratosphere.

Yet he'd told me last night he wanted to go Rogue. That had shocked me the most, especially because he was a Projector.

Daniel, Oriel, and the large network of humans working with elementals were descendants of Rogue demillirs who'd mated with humans. Despite fleeing the confines of elemental society, their children still ended up working for our side in the war.

Don't you want to be free?

I exhaled. Escaping a cage didn't mean you were no longer imprisoned.

The door opened. Renee blazed past me, face hidden under her hair. Phillip stood in the doorway of his office, hands clenched, gaze transfixed on her back.

Moisture glittered in his eyes and a rush of empathy squeezed my chest. He caught me looking and quickly closed the door.

I found Renee at the elevator. She repeatedly stabbed the call button, even though it was already lit.

"Hey."

She stared fiercely at the digital floor numbers blinking above the door.

"Why does it take so long to get here?"

Arms wrapped around her stomach in a protective gesture. I studied the tightness around her eyes.

"Don't know. Maybe all elevators hate you."

Her face relaxed a little. "Because I got us past Claudia?"

"You mean
we
got past Claudia."

The elevator pinged.

"Whatever," she said coolly.

But the hint of a smile danced on her mouth.

On the train ride back, we studied the list Phillip sent. The shipment only contained three items. A broken vase recovered from a mausoleum near the base of the Italian Alps. Some kind of dart from a village in the south of France. And a cracked mosaic found beneath a Swiss abbey.

I couldn't figure out why such random objects were important to the Lieutenant.

A fleeting longing washed over me. I wanted to go over this with my partner, see if he had an angle I hadn't thought of. Come up with a plan and actively do something.

When I returned to the brownstone alone, I half-expected him to be there, eyes twinkling, a smartass remark ready.

Emptiness hung in the air. It brushed against my skin, reminding me of every reason he had not to return.

Screw this.

The basement workout room waited for me. Magic flowed, its current steady and familiar.

I started with the punching bag. Worry, anxiety, anger, and doubt had built over the past few days. I needed to release pressure before I exploded.

With each blow, another image flashed before me. Bianca's unseeing eyes, the curve of an iris petal, Julian's wounded look.

Bag snapped, whipping back and forth with each impact.

If he'd been here, we could've sparred, venting our frustrations on each other like friends were supposed to do.

The thought drove me. I kept going and going, fist and feet pounding the bag from every angle.

When that didn't help, I ran through an extensive sequence of katas. Body relished the form, the strict discipline and shape, ripping through the air in a succession of twisting kicks, leaps, and strikes.

The war's threat never eased, not a for a minute. In two days, I was returning to take on a political mantle I'd crammed for in one month.

I grabbed a
bō
staff off the rack. Shoulders, arms, back worked in unison.

Going after the Shadow scared me, but it was what I'd trained for my entire life. Becoming Governor was something I hadn't planned for. It meant leading people into a future that remained just as unclear to me as it did to them.

I didn't know if I had what it took to do it.

Twirl. Jab. Pivot. Attack.

Another half-hour passed. Sweat drenched my body and numbness crawled up my arms and down my back.

Tension had finally eased but I didn't feel better.

I went upstairs and took a long shower. Steam billowed, the wet heat working out knots in my back. Since I was a kid, physical exertion was the only way I knew how to deal with emotion.

The skill didn't mesh well with friendships. You couldn't fix things by beating the other person into understanding.

Water washed more of the pressure away. Feeling better, I stepped out and reached for a towel.

A soft sound echoed from the living room.

Sharp relief flooded me. He came back.

I almost reached out with my Virtue to gauge the atmosphere, then decided against it. I didn't want to make things worse by not trusting him.

I hastily wrapped a robe around my damp body and hurried out of the bedroom to the common area.

Act normal.

"LeVeq," I said lightly. "You better have brought some of those muffins because I haven't been able to find —"

The words died on my lips.

***

Silky mahogany hair had grown a little longer. Tousled locks framed a strong, refined face, dark espresso eyes gleaming with a fierceness that earned him the title of Warrior Prince.

Silver chain of his
pedaillon
rested against the smooth golden skin of his neck. Lithe, leanly muscled form, defined in an elegant charcoal grey sweater that clung to his shoulders and arms, radiated a commanding mix of superb control, intense energy, and unleashed power.

If an Aquidae entered the room, he'd cut him down before he finished taking a second step.

"You're okay."

The low, warm notes of the voice I'd yearned to hear sent an unexpected lump into my throat.

"I'm okay."

Eyes greedily drank him in.

I remained unsure of many things. Whether I could fulfill expectations. End this war and become the leaders elementals needed.

If who I was becoming was truly who I wanted to be.

But there was no uncertainty when I saw him. With him by my side, I could do anything, become anyone.

Every impossibility seemed possible.

Except for the one between us.

He settled on the sofa, eyes lingering on me as if to make sure I was really there.

Muscles still ached from my workout. But with each step forward, breathing eased as if an invisible weight lifted off my chest.

I sat next to him.

Our eyes locked, each searching the other's expression for answers to questions too dangerous to say aloud.

I broke the silence first. "Wha...why are you here?"

I'd expected to see him at Haverleau.

"Augustin told me about the situation with Edmundo on Saturday night at the club. I was worried."

You're just another ondine he has to protect.

"I'm fine," I said briskly. "You didn't have to fly all the way —"

"I wanted to see you."

I took a deep breath and reminded myself not to take everything personal.

"Did you just arrive?"

A pause.

"Flew into the city about two hours ago," he said quietly. "Catrin prepared one of the rooms for me at Rivelleu."

The familiarity of his tone surprised me. "You've been here before?"

"A long time ago. I don't have the best relationship with this city. What's happening with the investigation?"

I wanted to ask more about why he didn't like the city but this took priority.

He knew the generalities from Julian's daily reports to Jeeves. I filled in the details on what we'd learned over the past forty-eight hours.

"So we're missing that recent shipment," he said.

"If Aquidae took it after killing Peter, that means they need it for something. Maybe they have a buyer lined up and are moving it."

"We have to catch them in the process."

I nodded.

I wondered if Julian was working on Rebecca, our museum curator. She'd be the person most likely to have information on any upcoming sale.

If I didn't hear from Julian tonight, I'd suck up my pride and ask Renee to get in touch with him. Or I'd have to deal with Rebecca myself.

"You're hair is dripping."

"What?"

Tristan gestured to my head, the hint of a smile dancing on his mouth. "You're going to catch a cold."

That's when I realized I had a mass of sopping, just out of the shower, not even towel-dried hair hanging over my face and flinging water all over the place.

Dignity. All I want is a little dignity.

"Let me grab a towel," I muttered.

When I returned, he'd already started a fire. I leaned against the wall and watched him for a moment.

Tristan was here. It almost felt unreal.

He crouched before the fireplace and warmed his hands. Flames cast highlights and shadows across his beautiful features.

He stood. "You looked a little cold."

"It's the first time it's lit." Warmth kissed my skin, orange flames dancing upward. "I just realized how stupid that is. We had this beautiful fireplace for a month and I didn't even think of using it."

"You get caught up with what you're doing," he said softly.

Heat seeped into my hands and legs. His presence and the fire's snap made everything less empty.

I felt him come up behind me. He gently brushed aside my hair and my heart leaped into my throat.

One arm reached across my shoulders and chest, above my breasts. The other wrapped around my waist, pulling me to him. Back pressed against his hard chest and a shiver raced through me at his clean, male scent.

I wanted to say something. Ease the burden from the parts of me buried beneath a lifetime of trained wariness.

But I'd walled away emotion for so long that my voice didn't work. Words tangled, clogged somewhere deep, unable to break free.

Only one made it through. "Tristan."

"I need to know you're safe." His jaw brushed my temple and arms tightened. "Just for a little while."

An ache spread in my chest at the rough plea in his voice.

I closed my eyes and leaned back.

Maybe all he did feel for me was a deep sense of obligation and duty. Maybe that kiss in the middle of battle was nothing more than reassurance that I remained alive.

I didn't care.

Just this once
.

He simply, quietly, held me.

Crackling fire bathed us in warmth, casting shadows of our entwined bodies against the wall.

War, prophecy, and duty faded. All that remained were two people seeking a brief respite from the never-ending cycle of blood and death.

The danger was I could want this forever.

Tristan tensed. Arms dropped a second before the click of the door cracked through the air.

We pulled apart just as Julian walked in.

Everybody froze.

Dark blue eyes flickered between us, lingering on my wet hair and disheveled appearance. I straightened my robe, feeling like the biggest, cruelest bitch in the world.

This wasn't the way I wanted to talk to him.

I cleared my throat. "Hi."

He placed his wallet on the table and settled on the sofa. Tristan remained quiet, but I felt the weight of his attention on Julian.

I tried again. "So I did some checking."

Julian leaned back and shut his eyes. Unshaven stubble roughened the line of his jaw and the shadows under his eyes had darkened. The humor that usually lit up his face had fled.

Get things back on track
. "I found out what the shipment was."

He finally opened his eyes but avoided looking at me. "I know. Renee told me."

Irritation flared. She could've at least called to tell me he was all right.

"The cell is selling off the antiquities at a private event for high-profile clients," he said wearily.

"How did you find —"

"I have my ways."

He'd utilized his skills to persuade our sexy, blonde curator into providing what we needed.

Like a reflex.

I sat next to him, breathing a silent sigh of relief that Tristan remained near the fireplace.

Not that it mattered. Julian hadn't acknowledged his presence.

"This sell-off was why the shipment was so important?"

He nodded. "They had buyers lined up and a deadline to hit."

Tristan shifted. "Do you think the Lieutenant will be there?"

For a moment, I thought Julian wouldn't answer. "In the files, I found the name of the guy running it. Seems he's run all these events in the past."

I leaned forward. "We should run a trace on him —"

"I already had Aub and Ian look into it."

Surprised, I pulled back a little. I was usually the one who ran interference with them.

Julian had continued the investigation, accomplishing a tremendous amount in just twenty-four hours.

And yeah, it kind of hurt that he did it on his own.

"Even they couldn't crack him. No photos, no identity we can track down. He's like a ghost. Whoever this guy is, he's hidden deep."

Which increased the possibility he was our target.