But they might have.
I rub at the headache pounding behind my eyes. It’s there despite the fact that Kyol has fissured back to the Realm. I need to sleep it off, but before I lie down on the couch, I do one more thing. I set up a new e-mail account, then send a quick message to the seller telling him I’m interested in his product.
SOMETIME after noon, I stagger down the stairs, feeling only slightly more rested than I did when I fell asleep. Dreams take their toll, and even though mine were, for once, pleasant, they were stressful. Aren and Kyol filled them—thank God, not at the same time—and I woke bathed in the memories of their kisses more than once. The dreams with Aren were intense—cosmic, even—but they were tinged with fear. If I don’t find a way to get through to him in the next two days, I’ll lose him.
Kyol’s dreams . . . Each kiss we shared made me miss him, and each kiss made my heart break a little. It wasn’t real, but it felt like I was cheating on Aren. I shouldn’t have two men on my mind. It’s not right, and it’s not fair to them. It’s especially not fair to Kyol, who’s able to feel what I’m feeling. He knows I’m in love with Aren, but he knows my stomach still flips when I think of him.
Guilt-ridden and feeling a little sick, I make my way through the living room, following the scent of coffee toward the kitchen. Kyol’s back. He’s sitting on one of three barstools that are lined up in front of the island. His back is to me. So is Nick’s. The human is standing by the coffeepot, waiting for it to finish brewing, I presume. He must have turned the breakers on. The air-conditioning is running now, too.
Nick grabs a couple of mugs out of the cabinet. “I thought . . .” His shoulders rise as he draws in a breath. “I thought the cleansing would spill across the borders. Atroth always catered to the conservative fae, and they saw the tor’um as a corruption, the result of too much human influence.”
“You didn’t have to run,” Kyol tells him. “We would have protected you despite your transgressions.”
I stop at the edge of the carpet, not stepping onto the earth-toned tile in the kitchen. The guilt I felt a minute ago disappears. Kyol thinks sleeping with a human is a “transgression.” That’s it. That’s why I chose to walk away from him. One of the reasons, at least. He’ll always see his love for me as a weakness.
“I didn’t know that,” Nick says, pouring coffee into the mugs. “Atroth was secretive. You all were. But if I’d known you’d eventually transgress, maybe I would have stayed.”
Kyol stiffens. I clear my throat, letting Nick know that I’m here. He glances over his shoulder, sees me, and looks only slightly chagrined by his words.
“Coffee?” he asks.
“Please,” I say, stepping onto the tile, then taking a seat on the barstool to Kyol’s right. When Nick sets a coffee mug in front of each of us, he says to Kyol, “I didn’t steal Kynlee. Her brother came to me. He begged me to take her out of Ristin, and I agreed. I took her as far away as possible and changed my last name so no one could find us.”
“Her brother will want to see her,” Kyol says. “He’s Ristin’s high noble now.”
Nick thumps down a third coffee mug a little too hard. “She’s not going back to the Realm.”
“He could visit her here.”
“No.” He thumps the mug down again. “She’s safe here. She won’t have a chance in the Realm. She’ll be shunned. She won’t be able to find work. No one will want to touch her, let alone marry her. She’s staying with me.”
I’m surprised he mentions the touching and marrying. He hits me as the type of dad who would sit on the front porch cleaning that shotgun of his anytime a boy showed up to take Kynlee out.
“She should know where she’s from,” Kyol tells him.
“She’s from here, now.”
“Kyol,” I interject gently, my tone saying to drop the subject. He does, but he seems agitated. I don’t think that’s just because he thinks Nick is wrong. Something’s on his mind.
“Lorn’s still asleep?” I ask.
He nods. “For a few more hours, at least.”
I look at Nick to see if he’s going to protest our staying here longer. He’s already been more accommodating than I expected, especially considering the fact that he’s worried someone might try to take Kynlee away from him.
Stone-faced, he tosses his empty mug into the sink.
“I have to go to work for a while,” he says. “I’ll be back before Kynlee gets home from school. Make sure you’re gone by then.”
He grabs his keys off a hook by a door on the other side of the kitchen. After he disappears through it, I hear the grinding rumble of a garage door opening.
I take a sip of my coffee as silence descends between Kyol and me. I want to tell him about Paige’s message and the Web site I found, but he feels so . . . I’m not sure how to describe him. Exhausted, yes, but it’s more than that. Soul-weary maybe. I don’t want to burden him with more bad news.
On the other hand, we already suspected the vigilantes were selling the Sight serum. This just confirms Glazunov’s words. And as for Paige’s message . . . It’s still possible Caelar isn’t working with the false-blood.
“Tell me,” Kyol says, staring down at the granite countertop.
I grimace. Of course he’d feel my turmoil. Proximity makes it difficult to hide our emotions from each other. That’s why I’m aware of his mood even though his wall is in place.
“You first,” I say.
His silver eyes meet mine, and it takes everything in me to not react to his familiar, stormy gaze. It feels like a cord is pulling on my heart.
Kyol draws in a slow breath as he looks away.
“It’s nothing,” he says.
“Nothing?” I ask, that heart-cord snapping in annoyance. “Well, then. Nothing is on my mind either.”
“McKenzie—”
“Are you trying to protect me from something?”
“No.”
“Because I can handle it, Kyol. I’ve always been able to handle it.”
He swivels on his barstool, facing me fully.
“There is nothing specifically wrong,” he says. “I swear it.”
“Then what’s wrong generally?” I ask, not dropping the subject.
His jaw clenches. So does mine. I’m pissed at Aren for this same reason. Something is wrong with him, but he doesn’t trust me enough to tell me what. It’s ridiculous for me to have this problem with Kyol, too. There’s no reason to withhold information from me after everything we’ve been through.
I slide off my barstool, start to leave, but Kyol grabs my arm.
“I’m worried about you, McKenzie.”
I look down as lightning circles my elbow. I’m mad enough that the lick of heat doesn’t make me want to move closer to him.
“That’s it?” I ask, letting doubt slide into my voice.
He releases my arm, then reaches for something beside the counter. When he turns back to me, he’s holding two dull swords with familiar red handles.
I barely suppress a sigh. Maybe I am what’s bothering him. God knows I’m not as good at hiding my emotions as he is, and he’s never had a life-bond before either. This is as new to him as it is to me. I’m probably stressing him out with my chaotic mood swings.
“Please,” he says, holding one of the practice swords out for me to take.
Even though my anger is quickly disappearing, I cross my arms over my chest. “Are you going to be an ass when I get tired?”
After a brief pause, he says, “You learn more quickly when I’m an ass.”
I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.
A few minutes later, we’re in Nick’s backyard. I insist Kyol be visible in case one of the neighbors gets nosy, so he takes off his jaedric armor. He wears it so often, always prepared for an attack, that I’m sure he feels naked holding a sword without it, but his black pants and shirt can pass as human made.