“Partially,” I conceded, opening my eyes only to discover Ryder leaning over me. If my belly wasn’t already twisted up from the ache along my muscles, it churned in double-time with the sight of his dark emerald eyes swallowing up all the light around us. I couldn’t see anything past his handsome face and its golden fall of hair, the glittering metallic strands curving into a curtain around us. It wouldn’t take much to tangle my fingers through it, wrapping bits of starlight and sunshine around my own flesh, but that was a whole lot of trouble I wasn’t prepared to deal with. “I think we’re coming to a point, lordling, where you’ve got to decide what exactly is it you want from me and who the hell you think I really am. Because so far, we’ve danced around a lot of things, including each other, but the hard reality of life is… I’m a Stalker and you’re the Lord of a Court. My life is full of blood and monsters, and that’s not where you spend most of your day.”
“I know who you are, Chimera,” Ryder whispered. “I’ve never forgotten.”
“No, I don’t think you really understand.” I sat up, holding my left side until it stopped screaming in agony. Ryder’s chin came up, and he threw his shoulders back, giving me room. “You’re ruffled because I’m going to go digging around under the city for a fugitive and not taking you with me. Here’s the thing. You’ll be a distraction. You can’t shoot for shit, and there’s no way in any hell that you’ll be able to blend in with the crowd. You simply are not someone I’d take for that run. I can’t babysit. I can’t trust your instincts to tell you when someone’s dangerous, and I sure as hell don’t want to spend my time keeping one eye on you while on the lookout for someone who would sooner stick a knife between my ribs for a bit of spare change than to look at me.”
If I thought he was stiff before, he was practically a redwood by the time I got done speaking.
“This is how I live, Ryder,” I continued as gently as I could. “This, all of this around us, that’s how you live. And neither way is bad or better. Okay, so maybe you’ve got better food and beds, but we each have our places. And it’s been cute flirting with the idea of something… more than what we are, but I’m going to ask you something—what the hell do you think I’m going to do here in your Court? I bring nothing to this place. And before you start talking about destinies and towers with a hard-on for me being here, I want you to really fucking think about what it is you believe I can do here. Because I’m going to be honest and say I have no idea. Living here in a tower like this would kill me. I’m a hunter of monsters, Ryder. I go out and I kill things so other people can live their lives, and they might hate me because I’ve got pointed ears and fangs, but their money spends the same whether they love me or spit when I walk by.”
There was so much more to him now than the lordling who’d pounded his fist against my front door, demanding I dance to his tune. I wanted him. All of the gods knew I did, but I wasn’t going to bend down and show my throat to whatever tickle our blood shared.
“There’s something between us. I know it. I can feel it. And I’m not denying it’s there,” I said, moving Newt onto one of the pillows. “But I’m not going to let that tangle dictate to me how to live. I’m not going to be your puppet, Ryder, any more than you’re going to be someone I drag along on runs for shits and giggles.”
“I never once thought of you as… a puppet.” His whisper loosened as he continued, but the tension in his throat kept his muscles tight. “I want you with me. Not just because you make my bones sing, but because I can… count on you. You’re not just someone I reach for because you’re there. You’re a friend, and sometimes the only one who tells me what I really don’t want to hear. I depend on that. I need that. Do I want you in my bed? Morrigan, there are days where it hurts so much with the want of you, but I know you’re not… you’re not one to be bound. I know that. I might not like it, but I know it. I don’t know what your place is here except… that I want you with me. So whatever that looks like, that’s what I need. And if that means there are times when I have to watch you ride off toward a killing field, then I’ll have to deal with it. Just… stay here with me. In some way, Kai. That’s all I ask. Because that’s all I need.”
Thirteen
“YOU’RE STUPID for going, boy.”
I had to look up to make sure it was Jonas talking and not Dempsey because, except for the difference in their grumbling voices, those were Dempsey’s words coming out of Jonas’s mouth. The man looked like shit, his skin stretched tight over his strong bones, and he looked half warmed up from dead, his mouth and eyes tight slits in his ashen face. Leaning against the old International Scout he’d somehow driven from the ranch to the courtyard I’d claimed as my own, Jonas looked like he was ready to do battle despite his shaky stance. A few feet away, his son Razor met my curious glance with the universal expression of a son backing off arguing with his old man—a widening of his eyes, a shake of his head, and his hands held up in a quick surrender.
Najiri’s son was no fool, and other than an apologetic grimace, he used the long legs he’d gotten from his father to quickly take himself back to the battered Chevy truck he’d bought off Dempsey months before. I had fond memories of that truck and was mostly responsible for the Bondo-repaired shotgun holes along its front quarter panel and hood, but Razor’d done his own mark or two on the vehicle, having played apprentice to more than a few runs in his youth. Now a fully licensed Stalker himself, he’d taken up residence at Dempsey’s old place in exchange for keeping the place up, and despite the slight distance between him and his family—or perhaps because of it—he seemed to be getting along fine.
Right up until the moment his father decided he was going to drag himself out of his doctor-enforced rest and Razor volunteered to keep Jonas company. Or at least that’s how I imagined things going, and then I heard Jonas’s link chirrup angrily and caught a bit of his own grimace when he glanced at the message.
It was early afternoon, and the sun was making the same soft whispering promises a fickle lover made about loving forever, but in a half-drunk slur no one with any sense believed. Around us the Court was going about its day, and I’d spent most of the morning on my link or scanning vid feeds, looking for any sign of Dempsey’s younger brother. I started to get hits at noon—small trickles of information leading to a few possible sightings—and then word began to solidify, mostly because of the famous Dempsey lack of charm leaving a distinct impression on people as Kenny fucked them over. The disgruntled murmurs left in Kenny’s wake pretty much reassured me he hadn’t grown any more pleasant, and I couldn’t imagine having a price on his head improved his mood any.
The rain backed off before I had my first cup of coffee and a handful of painkillers, and from the growling sounds Newt made over his dish, I assumed breakfast was suitable enough to fill his belly. Other than a few tender spots and a spread of inkblot bruises along my right side, I seemed to have survived Gibbons’s attack. Still, I was surprised as hell when Jonas showed up, arm in a sling and with Razor in tow, slowly maneuvering through the Court’s maze of roads to get to my tower. His spouses were going to kill him for sneaking out, was my first thought when I saw him nearly tumble out of the old battle tank of a Scout he’d brought for Cari and me to use on our bounty hunt. The second worry came hot on its tail, a deep fear Najiri and the others would think I’d convinced him to bring the Scout himself.