Читать книгу Otherworld Challenger - Jane Godman - Страница 12

Chapter 3

The next morning Vashti cautiously approached a very angry Jethro, who seemed to be taking his frustration out on Cal as they stood on the village green. “Is this some kind of joke?” Jethro’s expression resembled a thundercloud. “You’re telling me there is a portal direct from where we are now to the mortal realm, but it will take me to a remote Scottish island?”

Cal sighed. “The Spae originated as mortals on the Isle of Orkney. Centuries ago, when they were persecuted by witch finders and forced to flee their home, your convenience and ease of international travel were probably not uppermost in their minds. They were more concerned with their own safety.”

“What is the problem?” Depositing her bag on the grass, Vashti surmised they were not likely to be departing immediately.

“The problem is I will waste time getting from Orkney to mainland Scotland, then from there to a major US airport, where I’ll need to get another flight to Maine. Allowing for connections and delays, it will take the best part of two, possibly even three, days.”

Since Vashti had no concept of mortal time, Jethro’s frustration was meaningless to her and she turned to Cal for an explanation. “It would take as long if Jethro returned to the palace with Stella and me to use the portal at La Casa Oscura. From there, he would enter the mortal realm in Barcelona and travel from Spain to the US. Either way, the journey is a long one. Which leaves me with one question.” He turned back to Jethro. “Since we are, as you said, up against the clock, do you have to go home first?”

Something shifted in Jethro’s expression. The irritation was replaced by a guarded look, as though shutters had been abruptly pulled down. “Yes.”

“When it comes to being stubborn, you remind me of someone I once knew.” Cal’s voice held a trace of frustration.

“Who was that?”

“His name was Arthur.” Cal’s annoyance shifted and became a reminiscent smile. “He didn’t turn out so bad.”

Hoisting a large backpack onto one shoulder, Jethro held out a hand to Cal. “Sometimes stubbornness works. Have my money ready. The next time we meet, I’ll be bringing you your challenger.”

Gripping the outstretched hand, Cal nodded. “Blind, arrogant confidence. King Arthur had that, too. It’s what we need right now. I guarantee Moncoya has it in abundance. Before you go, I need to have a few words with Vashti.” Jethro started to turn away but Cal stopped him. “You need to hear this.” Beckoning Vashti closer, he held up a small leather bag. “This contains a few items you will need.” Opening the bag, he began to produce the contents one by one. “Cash. US dollars. Do you know how to use this?”

Conscious of Jethro’s disbelieving eyes on her face, Vashti tried to sound nonchalant. “Is it money? I’ve heard of it, but I have never used it.”

“Be careful with it. Keep it safe. If you wave it around, someone will try to take it from you. And, while I’m fairly sure you’ll be able to stop them in their tracks, you don’t want to draw attention to yourself by killing a mugger.”

Cal reached into the bag again. “This is a credit card. When the money runs out, you use this to get more. Jethro will show you how.” His eyes flicked over to Jethro. “Won’t you?” The response was a curt nod. “These are the papers you will need so you have a mortal identity. And, finally, this is a cell phone. Use this if you need to keep in touch with Jethro.”

Vashti took the little gadget from him. “Can I use it to contact you?”

Cal did his best to hide a smile. He didn’t quite succeed. “The signal here in Otherworld tends not to be great.”

“A word. In private.” Jethro drew Cal to one side.

Vashti couldn’t catch everything that was said but she was fairly sure it was about her from the turbulent set of Jethro’s features and the occasional phrase such as “got to be kidding me” and “a babysitter for your observer.” Whatever Cal said in reply appeared to have a calming effect. Nevertheless, Jethro’s muttered comment reached her as the two men made their way back to her. “It was your decision to send her with me. If something happens to her, she’s your responsibility, not mine.” Vashti suspected she was meant to overhear it.

Cal scanned her face. “Sure about this?”

“Absolutely.” She gave him her brightest smile. “At least I already know what the worst part of the journey will be.”

“What’s that?” He lifted her bag and handed it to her.

She cast a look at Jethro, whose expression refused to lighten. “The company.”

* * *

Jethro watched Vashti surreptitiously as she leaned against the rail of the boat, allowing the brisk breeze to catch her face. It was hard not to watch her. She had a sort of mesmerizing quality that drew his gaze even when he tried to fight it. He’d met plenty of faeries in his time, but she seemed to have more enchantment about her than all the others put together. As if this job wasn’t complicated enough already.

He felt his initial annoyance at not being able to get a flight from Orkney to Glasgow dissipating with each mile the ferry covered. It was one of the most infuriating things about what he did. It should be simple. He wanted to get from one place to the next in the most direct way possible. Other people got paid to take him there. Yet there always seemed to be a problem. Patience wasn’t high on Jethro’s list of virtues. Over the years he’d developed his own ways of getting around inflexible travel schedules, but today money and intimidation hadn’t been options.

They had passed through the portal from Spae to Orkney just in time to find out they’d missed the only flight leaving the island that day.

Swallowing his annoyance, Jethro had resorted to finding an alternative. “It’s an island,” he’d said to the airport ticket agent. “There must be other ways of getting off it.”

“The ferry to the mainland leaves in an hour,” she’d told him, a trace of disappointment in her eyes as she’d looked him up and down. “I hope you’ll visit Orkney again soon.”

Now that he’d managed to phone ahead and get arrangements in place for the next stage of the journey, Jethro allowed himself to relax. Well, as close as he ever came to that sensation. What he did for a living never allowed him to completely unwind.

“I’m going to get something to eat.” He raised his voice slightly above the noise of the engines, the wind and the cries of the gulls. “Since you’re following me, I thought you might want to join me?”

Vashti turned her head and he was caught in the headlamp stare of those incredible eyes. Lighter and bluer than the sky above her head, they had a feline tilt below slightly slanting brows. The give-away sidhe ring of fire around her irises blazed bright, making the blue even clearer. Damn. He had a feeling those eyes were going to give him all kinds of problems.

“I’m not a child in the schoolyard, tagging along behind you because I want to.” Her voice was haughty. “I’m observing you because it’s my duty.”

He grinned. “Perhaps you’d like to observe me while I eat a burger?”

Her expression was thoughtful. Then she nodded. “I’m hungry, too.”

They made their way down to the boat’s restaurant. “Is it true what they say about faeries?” Jethro paused as he studied the self-service menu. “If we eat together, will I belong to you forever?”

For the first time since he’d met her, Vashti smiled. It was an expression filled with genuine amusement and a hint of mischief. And it lit up the beige plastic and dull chrome environment like a flare launched into the midnight sky beyond the portholes. “Only if I want you.”

Jethro returned the smile. He had no choice. It was irresistible. “I guess I’m safe?”

“Totally.”

And in that instant, in that bland environment smelling of fries and cheap coffee with dispirited travelers milling around them, Jethro felt something shift ever so slightly. It was a tiny glimmer of something other than animosity. He wasn’t quite sure what it was. Interest? He knew what Lorcan would say. He could hear his friend’s long-suffering voice chiding, “Sure, can’t you be around a good-looking woman for more than five minutes without trying to figure out how to get her into bed?”

But it wasn’t that sort of interest. Call it curiosity. Vashti had taken him by surprise. He hadn’t expected her to have a sense of humor. That was all. She usually hid it so well with that whole pain-in-the-ass royal thing she had going on.

“So are we going to get some food?”

Aware that Vashti was regarding him with a bemused expression, Jethro gave himself a mental shake. So much for the ever-alert mercenary. Just as well neither Iago nor Tibor had been around while he was gazing into Vashti’s eyes, intrigued by this unsuspected facet to her personality. I’d have been sprawled facedown with a knife between my shoulder blades or my throat ripped out before the girl behind the counter had time to ask if I wanted my coffee regular or large.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

The food was as sterile and uninteresting as their surroundings and they sat at a table offering them a view of black nothingness. Jethro was glad Vashti seemed content not to speak. Company on his travels was a new experience. Unwanted, unwelcome company in the form of Moncoya’s daughter had to be the worst kind of intrusion. At least he didn’t have to talk to her. No sooner had those thoughts passed through his mind than Jethro found himself wanting to question her. To discover what was going on behind those flawless features. To find out more about this exquisite enigma who, with her twin, had been Moncoya’s trained assassin.

He couldn’t talk about the night Moncoya got away. That would incite her to instant, boiling fury. In fact, it was probably best to steer clear of anything to do with her father.

“What was it like training with the Valkyries?”

Vashti withdrew her gaze from the darkness beyond the porthole and Jethro was conscious of that blue gaze assessing him. He was fairly sure he fell short of the required standard. “Demanding.” She turned away again.

“And growing up in the faerie palace?”

There was that stare again. Bland, blue and impossible to read. “Luxurious.”

This was becoming a challenge. Get her to say more than one word. “It must have been hard when your father was defeated.”

“Are you making conversation?”

He grinned. “I’m trying to.”

“Please don’t.”

With a feeling of amused irritation—the princess has spoken, I’ve been dismissed—Jethro lapsed into silence.

* * *

So far Vashti had survived her first forty-eight hours in the mortal realm without anything too alarming taking place. The noise and the sheer number of people moving around were the hardest things to deal with. How they could possibly know what they were doing, where they were going and how to avoid bumping into each other, was beyond her comprehension, yet somehow it seemed to work.

Although she would never admit it, Vashti was glad of Jethro. Keeping up with his long strides as he’d marched first through the ferry terminal, then the airport, had given her a sense of purpose that meant she hadn’t stood in the midst of the chaos simply gazing around her like a lost soul. He’d even taken the trouble to explain that extreme reactions like drop-kicking the woman who’d jostled her at the airport check-in desk or throat-punching the man who’d regarded her appreciatively before stepping uncomfortably close as they’d boarded the plane would be considered inappropriate in the mortal realm. They would even, he explained with unexpected patience, attract undue attention and land her in trouble.

“They should keep their distance,” she had grumbled as they’d taken their seats on the plane.

“They don’t know you’re a princess. To them you’re an ordinary person.”

Frustrated when her seat belt didn’t do what she wanted it to, Vashti tried to wrench it out of place. With something that sounded suspiciously like a long-suffering sigh, Jethro had showed her how to fasten it.

“Oh.” She had leaned back in her seat, digesting the information. Ordinary. She had been described as many things during her life. Never that.

Jethro had slept during much of the long plane journey. He’d slumbered like a cat, falling asleep instantly and deeply, but waking alert and watchful. While he’d dozed, Vashti had watched movies and observed her fellow passengers.

The man who had eyed her up earlier was seated across the aisle and one row in front. He was tall and slender with long, fair hair. He was traveling with a woman and the two of them seemed to exist in their own separate bubbles. Together yet apart. Vashti speculated on their relationship. As if aware of her gaze, the man looked in Vashti’s direction. Recognizing her, he grinned admiringly. The scowl she gave him in return seemed to have the desired effect and he turned away once more.

Each time Jethro did stretch his long body and open those melting dark eyes, it seemed to Vashti a flight attendant appeared as if by magic. “Do women always look at you like that?”

“Like what?” He paused in the act of devouring a sandwich.

She wrinkled her nose in an effort to find the right words. “Like they want something from you.”

His lips twitched and she got the distinct impression he was trying not to laugh. “Sometimes.”

She sighed. “I will never understand mortals.”

“We’re a fairly uncomplicated lot if you give us a chance.” He jerked a thumb toward the plane window. “The United States. Home.”

Vashti leaned across him to get a better view. “I have heard of it even in Otherworld. It doesn’t look uncomplicated to me.” It looked like an uneven jumble of architecture and water and greenery. What if I get lost down there? She turned her head to voice the question but the words died on her lips.

Her face was inches from Jethro’s, her shoulder pressed against his. Physical contact that was uncomfortably pleasant. It was a first. Something strange started happening inside her chest. As if her heart was insistently trying to pound its way out of her body. His nearness was delivering sensory overload. Every part of her was achingly aware of his scent, as though she had imbibed it through her pores. Not the smell of his cologne. Beneath that. The scent of him. Dark, spicy and seductive. It made her shudder ever so slightly. At least, she hoped the quivering movement was slight. She would hate to think Jethro could feel it.

Her eyes were drawn insistently to his mouth. Why had she never noticed the perfection of that luscious slope to his lower lip? Or the stubble outlining his upper lip that had darkened as their journey progressed. It was so tempting to reach out her finger to find out if the bristles were as coarse as they looked. She actually had to fight the impulse at the same time she was resisting the urge to trace the small cleft in his chin with her fingertips. And his eyes...

“Dark and bright at the same time.” Tell me I didn’t say that out loud.

“Pardon?”

Aware that she was still nestled close against him, Vashti sat up straight. “Is this our destination?” In an effort to distract him, she pointed at the city unfolding below them.

Jethro shook his head. “No, that’s one more stopping-off point.”

“Tell me we don’t have to stand in another line.”

He grinned. “Sorry.”

Vashti groaned and slumped back in her seat. The action drew the attention of her admirer across the aisle and he turned his head again. “That guy over there keeps looking at me,” Vashti complained in an undertone to Jethro.

“Vampires,” he said it dismissively. “They’ve been with us since we stepped through the portal on Orkney.”

She took a moment to digest this information. “They are following us?”

“Well, if we’re going to be precise about it, they’re following me. Blatantly. They do it all the time.”

“Why?” She gave the vampire another glare and he mimed placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“Because your friend the vampire prince has sworn to have me killed. Every vampire from here to the far end of Otherworld will earn their master’s undying—no pun intended—gratitude if they can present Tibor with my head.”

“So why doesn’t this one kill you now and get it over with?”

Jethro grinned. “I’m a necromancer. I’m not that easy to kill. Tibor sends his bloodsuckers along to remind me of his pledge. It’s a little game he likes to play.”

It might be a game, but the smug vampire was seriously annoying Vashti. “I’ll fix them.”

She unbuckled her seat belt and made a move to rise from her seat. Jethro grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back down and holding her still when she tried to squirm away from him.

“You are playing by mortal rules now. Murdering two people in full view of the other passengers on an international flight tends to be frowned upon.”

“Even vampires?”

He started to laugh, the sound vibrating through his chest where it came into contact with her shoulders as he held her against him. It was an effective way of distracting her from thoughts of vampire killing.

“Even vampires. The other people on this plane don’t know those two are vampires. Tibor and his followers have evolved to the point where they can spend time in the mortal realm and blend in here. It’s daylight. That guy doesn’t need a coffin filled with the soil of his homeland. I could produce a crucifix right now and he’d only look a bit queasy. If you drew a silver dagger on him, he’d put up a hell of a fight. If you won—and I’m sure you would—he’d die like a mortal.” He cast a glance across the aisle at the back of the vampire’s head. “But, unless you staked and decapitated him, he’d rise again. They haven’t evolved that far.”

“Tibor isn’t my friend.” Vashti didn’t know why, but it mattered to her that Jethro should understand that. “Why does he want you dead?”

Jethro let her go and she tried to quell the tiny feeling of disappointment. “Do you remember his human servant, the one called Dimitar?” Vashti nodded as she buckled up again. “Dimitar suddenly decided he wanted to be my servant not Tibor’s. I have no idea why. I didn’t want a servant...but we became friends.” His mouth thinned into a hard line. “Tibor had us hunted down. Dimitar lost his immunity to a vampire’s bite once he left the prince’s service. Tibor’s followers captured us and chained us up in a dungeon in Tangiers. They couldn’t exert any mind control over me, so they beat me and made me watch while they came every night and bit Dimitar.”

“How did he manage to chain you? I’ve seen you fight. You can overpower half a dozen men. You can certainly take out a few vampires.”

Was it her imagination or did Jethro look slightly sheepish? “I was tricked. There was this girl and, well...it’s a long story. Let’s just say I wasn’t concentrating.”

Vashti took a moment to assimilate what he was saying. “Oh. How did you escape?”

“Lorcan freed me, but it was too late for Dimitar. His transformation was complete by the time Lorcan arrived.”

“So he is one of them now?”

Jethro’s eyes seemed darker than ever. “No. I couldn’t let that happen to him. As a vampire, he’d have been Tibor’s plaything for all eternity. That blood-sucking bastard would have made him pay daily for switching his allegiance.”

“What did you do?”

“I staked and decapitated him. Then Lorcan and I buried Dimitar in Tangiers before we left.”

It occurred to Vashti that she should say something comforting. That was what Stella would do. It seemed to be the mortal way. So she searched around for a form of words that sounded right. “That’s what friends are for.”

Jethro’s helpless laughter continued almost until they landed. When they left the plane they were in another airport, similar to the one they had departed from but larger and busier. Vashti moved surreptitiously closer to Jethro. “Does Tibor have you followed everywhere?”

“Pretty much. Although I’m honored this time. He doesn’t usually send two.”

Sure enough, they had to wait in another line. It must be a mortal thing. “How do you stand it?”

Jethro shrugged. “At least, being a necromancer, I can spot a vampire easily. They are the undead. They can’t sneak up on me. My other stalker poses more of a problem.”

“Iago?” The powerful sorcerer who was in league with Moncoya had sworn to kill Jethro, Lorcan, Cal and Stella in revenge for the death of Niniane, the Lady of the Lake, during the great battle for control of Otherworld.

“Yes. He’s a sneaky little trickster. The guy thinks it’s funny to take on different guises to keep his opponents guessing, and he’s good at it. He could be anyone in this line. Or he could be the dog that snaps at my heels in the park, the seagull that shits on my head, the cop that gives me a ticket, the man-eating lion around the next corner... You get the picture.” He glanced around, lowering his voice so no one else could hear. “My necromancing powers don’t work against him. I have to rely on brute strength, which is fine if he’s in his own form, not so great if he decides to be a grizzly bear. And here in the mortal realm, I’m on my own. At least in Otherworld, we were four against one. Those are the kinds of odds we need against Iago.”

“You aren’t on your own.” Jethro raised his brows in response to her words. “I’m here.”

“Does this mean I have a Valkyrie-trained faerie princess on my side?”

“No, it means I won’t stand by and watch while you get killed.” They reached the desk and the conversation halted while Vashti produced the documents Cal had provided her with.

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Jethro asked as they finally exited the vast building.

“If I observe while Iago kills you, you won’t find the challenger. That’s not the same as me being on your side. You haven’t found yourself a new friend.”

“Funnily enough, I wasn’t considering you as a replacement for Dimitar. While I might be glad of your help against Iago, I don’t think you’d make great sidekick material.”

It was a good thing Jethro knew where he was going. The noise and bustle had increased to a whole new level. Vashti paused, looking around with a mixture of trepidation and wonder. “I’m not. You’ll have to be the sidekick.”