Chapter 20
Two months
later
Khan held the thrashing wight at bay,
mesmerizing it with an orb of faelight. The creature shivered in
the air, as if to shed its flesh, but it could never die. At least,
not without their help.
“Easy . . .” Talia warned as she
directed Shadow to mask the barrow behind them.
The barrow was an ancient construct
redesigned for modern times. The outside was the characteristic
faery mound of grass. Inside, a large steel capsule, monitored for
breaches, took the wight deep into the earth.
“Now!” Khan shouted as he cast the orb
into the barrow.
The wight shrieked after it into
darkness. A sheet of steel enclosed the wight within but could
never hold the thing. Only earth. Dark, rich soil was dumped onto
the silver entrance by a waiting truck. Khan took himself out of
the way so that another vehicle could pack the earth
hard.
The wight was buried, though it would
never rest.
The barrow keeper, a man named Chuck,
hopped down from one of the vehicles. His job was to ensure that
the soil did not erode.
Talia joined them, wrapping her arms
around herself and stamping her feet. “Did it work?”
Khan was cold, too, but he liked the
smoky shapes his breath made against the night sky. “Can you sense
death in the air?”
He watched as his daughter inclined her
head, turning thoughtful. After a moment she said, “No. All I feel
is the cold.”
“Then it worked,” he concluded. “Let’s
get you out of this weather.” He lifted a hand in farewell to
Chuck. They’d gotten to know each other well in the past weeks and
would know each other better in the future.
Khan was becoming accustomed to the
Hummer. Liked it much better when he was driving and relished the
heat the vehicle offered on frigid nights. He took it through the
field set aside for the barrows. Climbed onto the mountain road
that led to the security gate.
Talia had settled back into her seat.
She pulled her woolen cap off her head, and her hair frizzed. “Umm
. . .” she began, tucking stray locks behind her ears. “I feel like
I should warn you . . . Adam wants to get you under contract for
special services to Segue.”
Khan slid his gaze to his daughter.
Contract. He didn’t think so.
“Not that he wants any kind of
obligation from you or anything,” she said. “He just wants to make
sure you are compensated for your work.”
“He wants to give me money,” Khan
clarified. Adam had already hired Layla as Segue’s new director of
public relations, ostensibly to deal with the “mess” (Adam’s word)
she created when she sent her article to her former editor. Khan
didn’t know for sure, but he suspected that Layla’s salary was well
above the standard. But then, she was worth every
penny.
Talia huffed a sigh. “No. In the real
world people get paid for their work.”
“My work is pro bono.” He smiled over
at her.
She shrugged. “Okay, but eventually you
might want a house of your own.”
He laughed aloud. Had to. “Have we
overstayed our welcome, then?”
“No. Of course not. Stay as long as you
like.” Now she was flustered. “And never mind. I’ll tell Adam that
you said no.”
She went quiet, but another quick
glance and he could see the small line of worry between her
brows.
“Have no fear,” Khan said. “I’ll find
my own way in this world, as the work with the wraiths and wights
permit.” He smiled to himself, hope for the future glowing bright
and warm within him. “In fact, I relish the
opportunity.”
Layla was staring at her ringing phone
when Khan got back from the barrow field. Her new supertechy mobile
was ringing, but she couldn’t reach it. The thing was probably lost
forever, even though she could see it right in front of
her.
She knew Khan threw his keys on the
table, his coat over the arm of the couch, but kept her eyes glued
on the phone. His arms came around her waist as he, too, regarded
Kathleen’s wall-high painting. In the foreground, in front of
Twilight’s magnificent trees, was her mobile. And the number on
screen? Her conference call with the Japanese Minister of Defense.
Wraith attacks were rising in Tokyo, but the Japanese were slow to
accept Segue’s counsel as to how to deal with them. That call was a
major breakthrough.
“Took a week to set up this meeting,”
she said. If she looked away, she knew it would disappear
altogether.
“Which one of the boys did it?” Khan
gathered her close. She rested her head against his
chest.
Of Talia’s children, everyone thought
that Michael was the most troublesome, with his black eyes and his
obvious delight in Shadow, but Cole, quiet Cole, could be just as
mischievous. And they were still infants.
“I have no idea,” Layla answered. She
couldn’t turn her back on them for a minute. They’d gone from
rolling over to scooting within weeks. Exactly how one of them
managed to get her phone off the table, she couldn’t
imagine.
“The call is important?” Khan’s voice
lowered, and she felt the vibration in her blood. Khan. He’d chosen
the name for day-to-day use, but he’d always be her
Shadowman.
Layla closed her eyes as he skimmed his
mouth up her neck and tugged on her ear with his teeth. Happy
tingles spread from the contact, and she didn’t think he’d even put
magic into it. This was not the way to get work done.
“I’d better go hunt down another
phone,” she said.
“This late at night?”
“It’s morning in Japan.”
“Ah.”
She turned in his arms. Looked up into
his fae black eyes. “Unless you can reach in and grab it for
me?”
Khan’s magery was expanding fast,
probably faster than she knew, which worried her a bit. She’d seen
him make a spider bend its legs in death, and then snap, reanimate
again.
“And why would I want to get that
thing?” His hand slipped underneath her shirt.
“I’ll plan tomorrow’s date,” she
offered. The dates were her idea—a way to get him used to this
world and a way for them to get to know each other in a normal
setting. The bowling had been particularly hilarious, especially
when that little kid suggested Khan play with bumpers. They could
never, ever, go back there, which was a pity because there wasn’t
much to do in a thirty-mile radius. She’d have to come up with
something good.
“That won’t be necessary.” The room
darkened. Shadow rippled sensuously through the space. “I’ve got a
better idea.”
“There’s a wraith problem in Japan,”
Layla pointed out, though she liked the direction of Khan’s
thoughts. Was trying very hard not to give in.
“The phone is lost, Layla,” he said. “I
have no idea how far I’d have to reach to clasp my hand around it,
and even if I could, I doubt it would work properly. I suggest a
trip instead. Present the wraith problem in person.”
Wouldn’t that be nice. The likelihood
of getting an inperson appointment, however, was slim to none, even
with Segue’s connections. She’d once had suspicions about Segue and
its questionable “paranormal” work. She wasn’t shocked to find
others shared them.
“I don’t want to lose time.” And if
someone was finally willing to listen to her, she didn’t want to
lose the opportunity either.
“I meant now.”
Layla drew back, but somehow she wasn’t
surprised. “You can pass through Shadow?”
Passing had been his obsession since
the day they’d destroyed the gate. He’d sworn that he would never
again be trapped on one side of the veil, she on the other. He’d
had enough of that, and frankly, so had she.
He smiled, dark and wicked. “Perhaps
it’s always been my . . . fate to do so, our
destiny to always be together.” Now Layla was surprised. After all
they’d been through . . . “You believe in Fate?”
“Only the kind we make
ourselves.”