Читать книгу Enchanted Ever After - Robin D. Owens - Страница 12

Chapter 6

“WE’VE HAD TO budget brunch in for twice a month instead of weekly,” Shannon said.

“Fine. That’ll be good to keep up.” Kiri felt the friendship slippery in her grasp.

Shannon’s slightly protuberant blue eyes gleamed with excitement. “Now tell me how it went with Jenni Weavers. Is she amazing?”

“Very. And really smart.”

Shannon squeezed Kiri’s hands. “And you got the job!”

“Not exactly.”

“An interview for the job?” Shannon pressed.

Kiri wet her lips. “No. The story lines for Pegasus Valley weren’t what they wanted.”

Shannon frowned, her eyes firing, and her hands clamped down on Kiri’s. “They don’t deserve you, then.”

“But,” Kiri ladened the word with meaning.

“But?” Shannon perked up, tilted her head.

“They want me to work on a brand-new game.”

“Yay, Kiri!” Shannon hopped to her feet and swung around and Kiri whirled with her. “Go, Kiri!”

“Go, Shannon and baby!”

When they were both out of breath, Shannon collapsed into the chair again and slurped her tea.

“It’s not completely set,” Kiri said. “They have a pregame prologue that they want me to clear, see how I do in the game and, um, handle the world-building, I guess.”

Shannon nodded. “You can do it.”

Kiri’s lips thinned. “I can. I will.”

Shannon studied Kiri for a minute, brows dipping. “Is this new job in Denver?”

Kiri blinked in surprise. “I didn’t think to ask, but Jenni Weavers Emberdrake is here and so is the corporation that runs the game. S’pose so.”

“Okay, you’ll let me know how it goes?”

“Of course,” Kiri said, but figured Shannon soon would be more occupied with the reality of new life in her body than Kiri’s triumphs in game-land. Watching Shannon find new friends, turn down a new path away from Kiri was going to be hard.

A scuffing kick came at the door. Averill with his hands full, no doubt. Kiri jumped up to let him in.

He was a tall man, as skinny as his wife, with a gorgeous caramel complexion and a thatch of thick, straight black hair. His grin was as infectious as Shannon’s. “Hey, Kiri.”

She stood tiptoe to kiss his lower jaw. “Hey yourself, Averill. Congratulations!” She took the tray that held three large drinks from him.

“I got you and me a mocha steamer,” he informed Kiri, and sent a tender look at Shannon. “And you some herbal chai.”

“Thanks,” Shannon said. She still smiled, but when Averill turned to close the door she rolled her eyes at Kiri. “Kiri met Jenni Weavers and is in line for a new job.”

“Most excellent. For the development of Pegasus Valley in Fairies and Dragons?” Averill grabbed a folding chair propped against a wall, put the seat down and sat, jiggling ankle across knee.

“Nope,” Kiri said. His obvious happiness, combined with Shannon’s, soothed Kiri. Life was change, after all, and she was pushing at her own changes as much as she could. “Brand-new game with a prologue that determines character attributes instead of choosing your own.”

Averill snorted into his cup. “Huh, might cut down on those who prefer close-in fighting, melee, rushing in and striking with sword or fist.” He cocked an eyebrow at his wife, who only lifted her chin and gave a little sniff. Shannon’s preferred character had stinger fingertips at the end of deadly hands.

Turning back toward Kiri, he asked, “Looks like you can get out of IT and on to a career track that suits you better? More creative?” Of the pair, he was the web designer.

“Looks like,” Kiri said.

He nodded. “Good for you.”

Then Kiri turned the talk from Eight Corp to house hunting and babies and they spent the next half hour talking before Averill stood, then pulled Shannon to her feet. “Come on. Early to bed. Since we visited so much now, shall we cancel brunch tomorrow morning?”

“Sure,” Kiri agreed.

Averill wrapped her in a strong hug. “Later.”

“Bye,” she said and hugged Shannon, and then all three of them rocked together. That was one of the best parts of Sunday brunch, the hugs.

“Keep in touch,” Kiri said, kissing Shannon’s cheek.

“I will,” she said.

But when they walked out of the door, Kiri knew things would never be the same.

She plunked down in the chair and the pillow released the slight fragrance of Shannon’s perfume, the scent she’d used since Kiri had bought her the first bottle as a birthday gift in college.

Kiri swallowed, beat back tears and allowed herself a three-minute sulk. No children in sight for her. Crap, not even a man. Visuals of the Mystic Circle couples rotated in a slide show before her mind’s eye—Jenni and Aric, Rafe and Amber, Dan and Frank. All seemed very happy.

Why was she brooding about this, for heaven’s sake? She’d decided to concentrate on her career, get to a place where she was happy there, before she started looking for a guy. Or before she expected to find the right guy looking for her.

That’s what she wanted, a good, solid career, not to depend on a man to support her, like her mother. Kiri had had acceptable jobs, but now she wished to pursue her passion and get paid for it. Husband and family would come later. She thought of Lathyr, but if there was a less-likely man to have a family, she didn’t know one. He’d seemed solitary, and liking it that way.

Her sulk time was over so she stood and stretched and cleaned up the cup, saucer and tea bag that Shannon had used, poured the untouched chai down the drain and tossed her own and Averill’s empty cups in the trash. So much for domestic chores.

The sky held streaky clouds tinted with gold and pink sunset colors. A good walk would shake off the cobweb grims. Not too long before snow would fly and the nights would be too frigid for saunters around the Circle.

Sticking her keys and key card in her pockets, she headed out and went directly to the koi pond, since she hadn’t really watched them today. A half hour of observing the fish and the sunset let her inner calm well through her. She rose to leave and saw lights on in the Castle.

* * *

Kiri’s heart bumped with excitement. For the first time, the iron gate at the bottom of the stairs of the Castle was open. She angled out of the park and back onto the walk in front of Dan and Frank’s house. As she jogged, twilight became night. The Castle’s front door was open, too. Soft yellow light washed out around Lathyr Tricurrent’s shadowy form.

And on the steps were people—Jenni and Aric, Rafe and Amber. Rustling came from the heavy plantings of bushes and Kiri thought she saw darting shadows. Cats? Didn’t seem to move like cats. She shivered again.

Amber and Jenni held food dishes in their hands. Dammit, Kiri didn’t have any food offering. Her cleaner-than-new brownie pan was back on the kitchen counter.

She did have boundless curiosity. She hesitated in going forward, just craned to see. She told herself that she hung back because she’d had enough of people today—and heaven knew that she’d been watching every minute of her behavior, very self-conscious earlier at the neighborhood party. But the truth was, the foursome had a friendly intimacy that she both yearned for, but thought she’d break up if she joined them. She wasn’t an insider yet.

“They’re opening up the Castle?” Amber Davail asked.

Jenni Emberdrake smiled at her with teeth that seemed to flash. “Lathyr Tricurrent got permission to move in.” Her dark brows dipped and her chin jutted. “Eight Corp informed us that this will be strictly a guesthouse from now on.”

“Oh, that’s such a pity,” Amber said.

Rafe Davail snorted. “Jerks.”

A corner of Jenni’s mouth lifted. “Yes. We’d been hoping for a permanent resident—”

“It is best that none of the...officers...of Eight Corp decide to live here,” Aric said in his deep voice, curving his fingers around Jenni’s shoulder. He nudged her up the steps. Amber and Rafe had already gone inside.

“Very true,” Jenni said.

At the door, Lathyr seemed to glance Kiri’s way, but said nothing, then Aric asked a question and Lathyr faded back, bowed to his guests and closed the door.

Wind tugged on Kiri’s sweatpants like tiny hands and she shuddered. Too damn imaginative the past couple of days.

Loneliness wrapped around her like the night, echoing that vague wish for a man, a life partner. Someone sort of like Averill, in the computer industry, who wouldn’t think she was wasting her life writing games as her parents and most of the other people Kiri knew believed. Not much respect from them.

She trotted faster. Like her current job of dealing with irate people and their problems was fulfilling! Maybe for some, but Kiri wanted to tell stories illustrated by graphics, let people fall into worlds and play. Entertaining people, giving them an outlet for frustration or boredom or a place away from the troubles and despair of real life was important, too. And that was what was fulfilling to Kiri. Why, she could even consider herself in the mental health field. Heaven knew she’d taken enough mental health breaks where she’d played Fairies and Dragons to rid herself of the insanity of working inside a structured and office-politics company.

She wondered how different Eight Corp was.

Again, she shivered. Yes, summer was truly gone and autumn would come soon and bring snow. She hurried home.

* * *

Lathyr had gritted his teeth at the knock on the door, sensing beyond it stood Princess Jindesfarne, her husband and the humans-with-magic couple. He should have expected this, but he hadn’t. He had only arrived a few minutes ago.

And when he opened the door, they stood there, discussing him and the Castle, rudely. He blinked. They held food in their hands—a human custom he hadn’t anticipated.

A slight wave of a more sensual feeling hit him, and he realized that Kiri stood in the shadows of the street, watching. As he had watched her the night before.

“You gonna stand there blocking the door or let us in, man?” asked Rafe Davail, the human with strong magic. Underwater, that would have ruffled the fine fins on Lathyr’s arms and along his spine. In human form, the hair on the back of his nape rose a little in challenge.

It had been too long since he’d dueled in human shape to match with Davail now. And Lathyr wanted to be accepted here.

“Welcome to Mystic Circle!” Rafe’s wife, Amber, said cheerfully, holding up a covered dish of salmon and rice that wafted to Lathyr’s nostrils. His mouth watered, and he liked how she elbowed her husband in the side.

So he smiled and stepped back, bowing.

The mansion—the Water King was right, the house wasn’t large, only four bedroom suites and eight bedrooms—was furnished like any royal palace, with the best Lightfolk and human items money could buy. But what was more important was that the balanced energy was exquisite, sliding along Lathyr’s skin and slipping through his veins carried by his water nature.

He welcomed the Emberdrakes and the Davails and they toured the Castle together since none of them had been in it before.

That didn’t stop Rafe Davail from being cocky...and Lathyr noted the man kept himself between Lathyr and his wife, and not altogether automatically like a fighter would. As if the human sensed some threat from Lathyr. Lips curling, Lathyr didn’t reassure Rafe that only Kiri Palger interested him.

Amber Davail’s magic was too developed for her to become pure Lightfolk, and too elven.

Rafe fingered some of the Lightfolk silk tapestries and slid his hand across the fine leather of the couch in the living room. The person who was least impressed seemed to be Amber Davail—a woman Lathyr gauged was more interested in people than objects.

Aric Paramon Emberdrake, Jenni’s husband, had lived with the royals often enough in their palaces to recognize and accept the quality, and Jenni, as a previously sneered at half-breed, seemed the most struck.

The glass conservatory held a good-sized swimming pool set in a floor of colorful hand-painted Italian tiles. The water was turquoise and Lathyr’s nose twitched at the Merfolk scents in the water. Large potted trees and flowering plants rimmed the windows.

“Fabulous,” Amber enthused.

“Nice,” Jenni, the quarter-air, quarter-fire Lightfolk said politely, staying at the doorway.

“Don’t think I’ve seen a merman in mer shape,” Rafe hinted.

“We have three solid shapes,” Lathyr said, then turned to find the source of water he sensed in the basement.

Underground was made especially to be comfortable for Earthfolk—with warm stone floors, thick rugs and wood-paneled walls, large pillows on the floor. But down a hall, Lathyr looked through a large porthole to a room holding a seawater reservoir, a full submersion chamber for mers. He grinned and rubbed his hands. “Wonderful.”

“I suppose,” Jenni said doubtfully.

Instead of taking one of the bedrooms resonating with royal energy, Lathyr had chosen a small room on the first floor near the conservatory, meant for a servant. The others looked at him askance, and when Rafe opened his mouth again to comment Amber elbowed him, and no one said anything.

Lathyr was very aware of always living on sufferance.

The couples stayed only long enough for the tour and a drink afterward—Rafe, Jenni and Aric drank dwarven beer, and Amber some mead.

Amber hugged him before they left. Aric and Rafe—and Jenni to a lesser degree—remained slightly formal, not quite trusting him.

Lathyr sighed as he stood at the front door and watched the couples walk arms-around-waists back to their homes. He liked them all, even Rafe, and hoped he could earn their trust during this project. They’d make good friends.

Leaning against the wide doorjamb, he strained to see Kiri’s house at the end of the street, nearly opposite the Castle. Not much was visible through the trees of the center park since like the other bungalow, it was only one story. But, there was a light from what he believed to be a back bedroom.

He’d hoped she was coming to greet and welcome him to Mystic Circle, too. She hadn’t, and he’d been more disappointed than the small slight warranted.

One thing he had determined that day, he was definitely attracted to her. It had been a long time, since his adolescence, that he’d wanted to have sex with a human woman. Perhaps it was because he sensed the inherent potential in her to become Lightfolk...but he hadn’t been drawn to the other women and men he’d seen transformed.

Should he phone her? He had her application, with telephone numbers, on his personal computer tablet, but he wanted her to be aware of him, wanted her to come to him. However, he’d inadvertently used glamour on her earlier that day; the Emberdrakes wouldn’t forget that.

So he dragged in a breath that brought him the scent of leaves ready to turn in the autumn, losing their water flexibility and becoming dry and brittle, as well as the fragrance of the pond and the koi within, stupid and not good to eat. Considered beautiful by humans—and Kiri seemed to believe that—but compared to ocean creatures, the koi were ugly and clumsy. Most of all, the scent of balanced magic curled into his nostrils, layering on the folded frills.

He felt that balanced magic in the soles of his feet, and Jenni, as she’d trailed through the rooms, had balanced the magic in them. She’d ventured into each of the royal rooms and made the fire suite all of that element, then changed the energy of each of the others to match.

Wondrous.

But he was still landlocked, still had to live in his human form, even in this very special place. And the Castle wasn’t his. He stayed here at the whim of the Eight, or the Water King.

He closed the wooden door with a thunk, walked through the entryway, then up to the top of the four-story small tower. From here he could see all of the Circle, each house with bright squares of living.

He was alone. Occasionally, he was allowed to stay in a secondary home by himself—the last perched like a carbuncle on the shelf of a deep marine trench. It had been smaller than this, and cold. But usually he was a “houseguest” of some other person or family. His own family was gone—his father, who’d been the last of his line, was dead; his mother had listened to her relatives and abandoned him soon after he was born. He shook off the memory.

Luxurious to have a home of such quality to himself. It felt good, but he wouldn’t forget that he had no permanent place, no family. That was his goal, something he could win with the success of this project.

The quiet in the mansion hummed with magic to his ears, and pleased him. No intolerant naiader begrudged him here, a relief. Even as he enjoyed the peace of being by himself in a special place, he knew he’d eventually become lonely.

He wished Kiri was here to share the serenity...and make memories.

* * *

By the time Thursday morning rolled around, Kiri and her friend Shannon had spent a couple of cherished hours on the phone speculating about details of the new game, Transformation. They’d agreed that it would probably be another fantasy-world with the magic-based systems that Jenni Weavers Emberdrake was known for.

Both Kiri and Shannon had decided that having the game determine your character—strengths, weaknesses, types like magic user or long-distance shooter—sounded extremely dubious from a marketing standpoint. Good for novelty, but there’d better be an option for character creation. Kiri hoped she had the guts to give that opinion...but at the end of the trial, not now.

She hadn’t slept much and got up when predawn light filtered into her bedroom, still undecided about what she would wear. In the game she was a fashionista—and perfectly proportioned. In the real world, her breasts and hips were full, she was short-waisted and short-legged and if she didn’t watch it, she’d be plump.

Definitely not a business suit and stockings, even though she was meeting Lathyr in a downtown Denver high-rise, and there might be other people there to interview her, too. If she knew Jenni Weavers Emberdrake a little better, she’d have called the other woman and asked for advice, but Kiri still considered Jenni as one of the people who’d be watching her.

What mattered was the game—handling herself. Her shoulders had lifted with tension and her shoulder blades had squeezed together. Learning a new game was just like learning anything else—a new craft, a new job. There was a curve. Kiri wanted to be at the top of the curve. But she had no doubt that though she might spend most of her time in the game today, appearance mattered.

She’d already worn her beige outfit to the block party. Maybe it was time for businesslike black. She dragged out black slacks and a pale gray, thin cashmere sweater, then put the sweater back. The Eight Corp offices were probably warm and she’d probably sweat during the game—no doubt in her mind that adrenaline would spike through her a few times—and she didn’t want to mess up her cashmere, no matter how comforting it might feel.

Ditch the whole professional business bit and go for what she was: computer tech and gamer. She put on a Fairies and Dragon tee, covered it with a plum-colored hoodie and wore her best cargo pants. Done. She would not dress up for Lathyr.

Breakfast was half an English muffin with cream cheese and coffee.

She perched on the edge of her living room chair until the car taking her downtown beeped out in front, and her stomach gave a little squeeze.

Whatever happened, her life would never be the same....