Thea Harrison: Storm's Heart

“You left to get breakfast.” The flatness of his voice and the cynical expression on his harsh features said he didn’t believe her.

She rolled her eyes. She told him, “I left to get away from you.”

“You must still be drunk if you thought you could give me the slip,” he snapped. “You didn’t have a chance in hell.”

Well, no. She opened her eyes very wide. “I got your car and your gun when you weren’t looking, didn’t I?”

He clearly didn’t like what he heard, if his scowl was any indication. His glare could peel paint. What the hell was the matter with her? She was needling a pissed-off thunderbird, for God’s sake.

She groped for some sanity and told him, “Look, running back to New York is not an option. I don’t have the energy to keep arguing with you about it. Will you just buy me some breakfast at IHOP and then take me back to the Regent?”

His attention shifted away from her as she spoke. His gaze narrowed on the car that had just passed them. The car’s brake lights came on, shining bright red in the rainy night.

“What did you do with the Glock?” he asked. His face, voice, body remained calm.

Her stomach gave a sickened lurch. She dug into a shopping bag and put the gun into his outstretched hand. The car that had captured Tiago’s attention reversed with a sharp squeal of tires.

Tiago was already exiting the SUV. He moved so fast he was a blur. He said to her telepathically, Lock the doors and get down on the floor . NOW, Tricks.

“Dr. Death” wasn’t just a nickname she had made up on the spot. It was what the other Wyr sentinels called Tiago behind his back. He was a killing machine quick to anger and fueled by immense Power.

She had years of experience working with the Wyr sentinels whenever the threat level warranted she should have a detail of bodyguards. She knew when to fight, when to run away and when to get out of the way.

She wasn’t a very old faerie and she wasn’t all that Powerful. The low-level Power she did have was barely enough to cross over to an Other land or to achieve telepathy, which anyone, Elder Race or human, could do if they had a spark of magic. She also had a delicate sprinkle of charisma that gave her an edge sometimes in negotiations and knotty social gatherings, but it was worth squat in a combat situation. She had a small, light build, and now she was wounded. Her self-defense abilities were all artifice and had very little to do with natural aptitude.

She owed everything she knew to years of determined, patient training by the sentinels. Sure, she could kick ass, but she generally preferred for someone’s back to be turned when she did so. Using poison on her stilettos was just another way to level a very uneven playing field. This was not a time for her to fight. This was a time for her to do as she was told and keep out of the way.

She locked the doors and pulled herself into a compact package on the passenger’s seat floor, arms over her head. Her knife wound gave a throb so vicious it seemed to shoot to her spine. She could feel a gush of warmth against her chilled skin as it started bleeding again. It was the least of her worries at the moment.

She hated this part, hated it when someone she cared about put his life on the line for her. No matter how many times she went through it, it never got easier.

“Be okay,” she whispered to Tiago. “Be safe.”

That was when the shooting started.

The sound of gunshots passed quickly. What she heard next was incomprehensible and just as frightening. There was a sudden explosion of glass shattering, a shout of rage and then a high scream of pain.

After what seemed like forever but was just a few moments, Niniane couldn’t take it any longer. She broke a cardinal rule and disobeyed her bodyguard. She shifted and eased up on one knee until she could peer out the rain-smeared window.

The SUV and the other car’s headlights, along with the streetlamps, caused the surrounding area to be unevenly lit and filled with deep shadows. Still, Tiago’s aggressive black-clad form was unmistakable as he slammed one boot down on the head of a supine figure. The figure convulsed then lay still.

She covered her mouth, swallowing hard. There was another figure slumped at the steering wheel. The driver’s window was starred with bullet holes.

Her gaze darted around. The Dark Fae tradition of working in triads extended to more than just legitimate groupings of governmental officials. If this was a Dark Fae triad, where was the third?

She pressed a hand to the wound at her side, and grimaced and panted as she began the painful process of wriggling back into the driver’s seat of the SUV. Maybe she couldn’t do much to help, but she could be ready to drive them from the scene if needed.

A dark figure lunged from the blackness of nearby shrubbery. The breath left her in a hiss. It was a shorter, slighter figure than Tiago and moved with killing speed as it threw something at him.

But Tiago was well aware of the threat and already acting. He dove to one side. He shot the other figure as he fell to the ground. The attacking Fae lurched and dropped. Tiago rolled. With a single leap that spanned at least twenty feet he was on the fallen Fae, who must have already been dead, because Tiago straightened almost immediately. He stared down at his fallen opponent for what seemed a long time. Then he spun to glare around at the scene. His raptor’s eyes flashed eerily in the car’s headlights as he turned toward her.

“That’s it,” he said. He knew full well that she could hear him with her sensitive Fae ears. “Don’t give me any lip this time. We’re going back to New York where I know I can keep you safe.”

She stared at his angry face as he stalked toward the SUV. Her finger went out and hovered over the lock button on the doors. She pulled her hand away and left the doors locked.

Tiago reached the driver’s side and pulled at the handle. He slammed his fist into the car. “What the hell are you doing now?”

“You aren’t taking me anywhere,” she told him.

“You are a crazy person. Open the goddamn door.”

She looked into his fierce gaze and shook her head. She knew he wouldn’t break the window, or do anything that might risk hurting her. She touched the glass where his fist was planted. She was filled with a yearning to let him take her home, to make the nightmare stop, but she knew he couldn’t. Then she put the SUV into gear and pulled away.

Tiago watched her drive away, his clenched fists planted on his hips. As she looked at him in the rearview mirror, blindinghot lightning struck the pavement near his feet, and the scene flashed black and white.

He roared, “GodDAMMIT , Tricks!”

She drove with intense concentration, mindful of the speed limit and the furious thunderbird that shadowed her over-head. She was also quite lost. After a few minutes she gave up trying to figure out the route on her own and punched the destination into the GPS system on the dashboard.

It was a terrible journey and it felt like it took forever. She almost pulled over a couple of times to let Tiago take the wheel. Her chills came back and raked at her body from the inside, and her skin hurt. Then her heart started working too hard, as if she were running, and her gaze started to blur. She kept a death grip on the steering wheel, afraid to loosen her hold for even a moment.

The Regent hotel was located in Chicago’s Gold Coast district on the near north side, a historic neighborhood that had arisen after the Great Chicago Fire. Located just a few blocks from the famous Magnificent Mile shopping district on Michigan Avenue, the Regent was a luxury boutique hotel with mahogany-paneled walls, antiques, artwork, fireplaces and an old-world charm that was much favored by the Elder Races.