Chapter Five
Dawson closed the door behind him and walked out toward the main room where Selyn waited. The quarters—originally the site of his veterinary clinic—where he intended to house Artigos, were ready. Now all Dawson and Selyn could do was wait until Eddy and Dax delivered Alton’s father into their hands for safekeeping.
The fact he was entangled in the kidnapping of a world leader—one not of his own world, at that—wasn’t lost on Dawson. Neither was the presence of the young woman waiting impatiently in the next room.
He made a quick left into his home office and grabbed the phone. It took only a matter of minutes to make arrangements for his assistant, who had covered for him today, to take over the clinic for the rest of the week. Esteban Romero—called Romeo by the staff of young women who worked for Daws—was young, handsome as sin, and good with both animals and their people. He’d been more than happy to take charge of the clinic.
With his more mundane worries covered, Daws headed to the main room—and Selyn. She sat in front of the big screen TV with BumperWillow sprawled on the couch beside her. The dog—and, most likely, her symbiotic guest—slept, but Selyn was totally engrossed in a program on the Discovery Channel. Tiny red frogs enlarged to fit a fifty-inch flat screen crawled across thick foliage in some far off jungle. Equally engrossed, Dawson leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest, watching Selyn.
She leaned forward, sitting on the edge of his old leather sofa, elbows planted on her knees, long fingers cupping her face. Her hair fell in ebony waves over her shoulders, down her slim back, to curl softly against the leather cushions.
The loose neck of her cotton scrubs shirt had shifted to one side, baring her left shoulder and the fine line of her collarbone. With the late afternoon sunlight slanting through the window, her skin took on an almost reddish hue against the faded fabric.
Her concentration on the program was absolute, and he wondered what she thought. All of this was so new to her. It must feel both terrifying and exciting, to be faced with an entirely new world, all new experiences … new people.
She was so lovely she made him ache. So achingly innocent she terrified him. He felt drawn to her on too many levels—wanting to protect her, to teach her, to take her and make her his.
And that is something I cannot do.
She was his to protect. No more. She was an immortal, a woman who had known—for more lifetimes than he would ever live—nothing but slavery. A woman who, while accepting the friendship of those who were helping her, still burned for revenge.
He’d watched her watch Alton, had felt her rage when they spoke of Artigos and their desire to save him. She blamed the chancellor for her mother’s death and her own horrible life.
With damned good reason,
Daws thought, though if Alton’s father were truly demon-possessed, the man himself might be as much a victim as Selyn. Not guilty at all. What a mess.
Selyn tilted her head, almost as if she’d sensed his presence. She turned away from the big screen and watched him with an unsettling stare. He wished he knew what she was thinking, what she thought of him.
Blinking slowly, she asked, “Will that room be strong enough to hold the chancellor? I would hate to think he could break free after the risk Alton and Ginny are taking to get him out of Lemuria.”
At least Daws knew he was on safe ground here. “He can’t get out. That was my veterinary clinic when I first opened my business. Since I kept restricted drugs here for treating the animals, I had the windows reinforced and barred, and a good lock put on the door. There’s a bathroom in there, and he’ll have access to an intercom when he’s ready to contact us, but it’s definitely secure.” He gestured at the television. “He’s even got a TV in there, though it’s not as big as this one.”
“He can compel you to do as he says. All Lemurians have that ability. What if he forces you to unlock the door and set him free?”
Dawson shook his head. They’d discussed that issue already. “It won’t matter,” he said, “because you’re here. He can’t force another Lemurian. You’re my ace in the hole, Selyn. You’ll be the one in charge of the key to the room, not me.”
Selyn nodded. Then she stood up and walked to the window. Dawson had always loved the view from here. The dark red, wind-shaped stone of Cathedral Rock soared majestically against the blue desert sky. Juniper, Mediterranean cypress, and a couple of scraggly ponderosa pine trees framed the formation. A row of silvery century plants marked the edge of the drive to his home. Cacti dotted the deceptively desolate landscape, and dark gravel defined the driveway from the main road to the garage.
“Would you like to go outside?”
Selyn’s head snapped around, and she stared at him. “We can do that? Go out in the sunlight? Shouldn’t we be here to wait for them to bring,” she paused and flipped her hand in a careless gesture, “him. That one?”
“The chancellor?” Daws shook his head. “We’re just going out in the front. No farther than the patio. We’ll see them coming long before they arrive.”
He held out his hand, not really expecting her to take it, but when Selyn slipped her warm fingers into his, he tightened his grip almost possessively. At the last minute, he tucked his cell phone in his pocket, and then led her toward the door that led out to the covered patio area in front of his house.
The dog snored and stretched out on her back. Her feet twitched as if she chased rabbits in her sleep. Dawson wondered if the sprite slept when her host did, or if she was in there, metaphorically tapping her tiny foot, impatiently waiting for action. Smiling, Dawson shut the screen door. BumperWillow would let him know if she wanted out.
When Selyn would have continued on to the rocky path, he tugged lightly on her hand. “We need to get some shoes for you before you try walking in the desert. See those?” He pointed at a prickly pear cactus growing beside the pathway. Needles stuck out in all directions. A few old pads lay on the ground, covered with sharp spines. “You don’t want to step on any of them.”
“I can see that.” She laughed, but there was a sense of sadness to the sound. “So different from what I’m used to. All of the plants grow in containers in our world. Pathways are kept clean. There’s nothing like this, so wild and unkempt.” She slanted him a bright glance. “I like this. It’s so big, and there is so much color. And sunlight.”
She spread her arms wide and lifted her face to the sky. Daws watched her, enthralled by the sensual pleasure she took in the warm, afternoon sunlight and fresh, dry, desert air. It was almost painful to drag his gaze away from her, but he had to.
It was either divert his attention or pull her into his arms, and that wouldn’t do. Not at all. Angry with the direction his thoughts kept straying, he stared out across the desert, at the sparse trees and scrubby brush, the soaring rocks scoured by wind and rain, and he thought of all that Selyn had never seen, the things she’d never felt. Sunlight on her skin, the cold splash of rain, the chill from a winter’s wind.
A man’s hands, not raised in anger.
The thought of what that bastard had done to her had his entire body tensing up. He clenched his hands into tight fists, fully aware he really wanted to kill the one who had hurt her. He’d never felt such anger toward another man in his entire life, especially a man he didn’t know, but it was real, and it burned hot and heavy inside him.
A loud “char, char, char,” rising in volume caught Selyn’s attention. She turned to Dawson, frowning. “What’s that?”
He pointed to a brown bird streaked with white, perched amid the sharp spears of a desert yucca. “Cactus wren.”
“And that?” She pointed at a small fluff of brown fur on the rocky ground below the bird.
“That’s a cottontail. They’re rabbits. See that?” He pointed to a man-made pond on the far side of the yard. At one time it had been full of goldfish, but they’d not done well with the desert heat. Now he kept water for the wildlife that needed a safe place for a drink, and mosquito fish to keep the bugs under control. “The pond draws lots of wildlife. Look in the shade of the shrub. Do you see them? Over there.”
He hadn’t noticed them at first, but a small group of javalinas had found a cool spot beside the garage. “There are five little guys that have been coming in for water. It looks like they decided to hang around today.”
“What are they?” Slowly Selyn moved across the concrete patio until she was only about a dozen feet from the sleeping creatures. “Yuck! They smell horrible.”
“That they do.” He chuckled softly as he studied the odd looking creatures. “They’re actually collared peccaries, but here we call them javalinas. Most people think they’re related to pigs, but they’re not. They’re just another of the weird creatures that live in the desert.”
Selyn turned away with laughter on her lips and sparkles in her blue eyes. “So many wonders. It would take forever to see so many things. All this, and we’ve not even left your house!”
He stared at her bare feet peeking out from beneath the ragged hems of his old scrubs. “And we’re not going to be able to leave the house until we get some shoes for you.” His sandals wouldn’t work on her smaller, narrow feet. But Ginny’s might.
He wondered how Ginny and Alton were doing, if they’d managed to capture Artigos. The day was almost gone. Selyn would have been missed by now, so there was no way she could return to the mines—not until it was time to hand out the swords to the Forgotten Ones.
For now, they’d just have to wait, and hope that things were going according to plan.
Dawson had gone in to start something for their dinner, and she really should have gone with him and at least offered to help, but Selyn couldn’t bring herself to go back inside the dark, cool dwelling.
Not when the sun was setting behind the amazing masses of red rock, bathing the desert sand in shades of red and purple and dark, dark blue. She’d never imagined such beauty, much less actually seen it with her own eyes.
This day had been one surprise after another, from the moment she’d awakened in that strange room, to the gentle care she’d received from a man. She probably shouldn’t trust any of them—not Dawson or Alton or especially Dax. He’d started out as a demon, according to Dawson. A demon from Abyss, sent to this world to fight his own kind. How could one trust a demon?
Her mind wouldn’t stop spinning. So much to absorb, to try to understand. New information, new feelings, new everything.
Her feelings were the most confusing, the way she couldn’t stop thinking about Dawson and how he affected her. The way her body seemed to respond to his. Men were not to be trusted.
Hadn’t Birk proved that?
But what of Roland? He’d risked his own safety to rescue her. And what of Dawson? Even now he protected her. He’d used his skills to heal her. And Alton, promising swords to the Forgotten Ones, and his friend Taron, sequestered at the deepest levels of the crystal caves, replicating those swords.
All men, all risking their own safety, their status, by doing good things to help her and her forgotten sisters. It went against everything she’d always known, always believed, and it was so very difficult to trust.
BumperWillow whined. She’d come outside a while ago to keep Selyn company. Now she sat up, and her curly tail slapped against the concrete patio. She gazed out across the desert, as if awaiting something—or someone.
Selyn heard a strange noise and glanced up to see a large vehicle coming down the pathway to the house. Terrified, she thought to run inside, but then BumperWillow barked and wiggled her sturdy, curly-haired body as if she were dancing with joy.
At the same time, Selyn recognized Eddy’s face through the clear windows and Dax sitting beside her. BumperWillow leapt to her feet, and her curly tail wagged so hard it whapped Selyn’s leg like a drumstick beating out a rhythm.
Selyn stood beside the excited dog and waited until the dust settled and the doors on the vehicle opened. The dog didn’t wait. She took off with a leap into the air and then proceeded to run around the vehicle in mad, skidding circles.
A door opened, and Eddy got out. “Hey, girl. Slow down. You’re going to hurt yourself!” She leaned over to pet the beast and got her face licked in return. Finally she stood up and grinned at Selyn. “Hi, Selyn. Is Dawson around?” Eddy looped her scabbard with DemonSlayer over her shoulder and shut the door of the vehicle.
BumperWillow bounced and yipped and whined as if they’d been separated for months, not merely a few hours.
“He is. I’ll get him.” She turned toward the dwelling, but Dawson was already opening the door and stepping outside.
“Have you got him?”
“We do,” Eddy said. “He’s still pretty groggy, but he’s able to walk. Where do you want him?”
“Selyn can show you. I’ll go in and open the room.”
Dax helped an older gentleman out of the back of the vehicle. The man stumbled, and Dax caught him with a sturdy arm around his waist. Eddy took his other side, and between the two of them they guided the chancellor into the house. He walked as if he’d had too much to drink, but Eddy and Dax managed to keep him on course.