SkinWalker series Box Set Vol III Page 3
He just shrugged.
“How?” She grunted the word out, frustration flaring in her golden eyes.
Logan smirked. “When were you planning on telling me? After we get to the glacier? Or were you going to keep up the whole charade until we got to Drakys?”
Sienna shook her head and growled again. “I was going to call off the jumper to take us to Alaska. And then I chickened out.”
Logan shook his head, clicking his tongue like a disapproving wife. “You should know better. How about canceling the call now?”
“Too late,” said a cheery voice from the kitchen. “Although, I’ll consider this a free trip to say hi to a buddy.” Larsson smiled as he left the kitchen, his palm cradling a blueberry-bran muffin as he spoke, mouth full with fresh-baked goodness.
Logan laughed. “Good to see you, Red.”
Larsson gave a haughty glare. “Think that name’s more appropriate for someone else?” He rolled his eyes suggestively in Sienna’s direction.
Sienna glanced over at the jumper, her glare filled with fake-anger. “You watch it, or I’ll be forced to incinerate you. Try jumping when you’re just a pile of ash.”
Larsson chortled, then began to choke as a stray crumb went down the wrong way. Sienna sighed and hurried over to him to thump him on the back. “There. Wouldn’t want you to die on my watch.”
“But you just threatened me with a fiery death. That also happens to be classified as dying, in case you didn’t know.”
“Watch it,” Sienna snapped, though her eyes sparkled with laughter.
“Yes, your highness,” Larsson said as he dropped into a low curtsey, his eyes shining with amusement as he straightened to flick crumbs from his face. After dragging a finger across the muffin cup, he scooped up a drop of cream cheese and stuck his finger in his mouth. “Divine. I’m going to miss being paid in muffins.”
“I’m sure you will, Freckles,” Sienna said, smiling broadly now.
Logan was both amused and surprised. He’d spent so much time inside his sister’s head, that he’d almost forgotten she had a personality other than what she revealed to him. His connection with Sienna was a whole new level of whack.
I mean, who wanted your sister to know where you kept your trashy nudie mags, or about how badly your first kiss sucked, or even how you felt about the woman you loved?
It was a baring of souls that many would say was best left between a man and his god—or whatever entity or higher sentience he believed in.
And yet, Logan was meant to share this deeply invasive bond with his sister?
And now, as he watched her flirt with the red-headed jumper—however mildly—he realized that the usual brotherly protectiveness and jealousy when another man steps into his sister’s life, was going to reach an epically fucked-up level of craziness.
Logan was going to have to prepare. What the hell was he going to do on her wedding night?
Something hard pummeled Logan’s arm, and he blinked as his attention focused on his attacker who stood at his right shoulder.
“Are you deaf?” Sienna snapped. “Larsson was saying goodbye.”
Logan blinked and shook his head.
“Where’d you go, bro?” Larsson asked, frowning.
“Trust me, Lars. You do not want to know.”
Chapter 4
Logan
After Larsson disappeared, leaving the siblings standing in the front hall, Sienna turned to face Logan, her lips pursed in trite apology. “I’m sorry for not telling you,” she said softly.
He shook his head as he looked down at Sienna’s face. “I’m assuming you had a good reason for this omission?” he said sternly.
She rolled her eyes. “Geez. You already sound like old Vyrian. You’ll be taking over from him easily enough.” She made a face and folded her arms.
“You’re stalling,” Logan said as she’d remained silent for a few moments. Sienna huffed and sank onto the bottom step of the stairs. “Sienna? Why did you keep this from me? We could have gone back to Drakys days ago.”
Her hand shot toward Logan, finger aimed straight at his nose, its silver point glittering like a blade. “And...that’s the reason right there,” Sienna said, springing to her feet again. “You would have wanted to go running off back to Drakys before you were healthy enough to travel, and before you and Kai reached an understanding. Although, from what I’ve seen, the latter is now moot.”
“Sienna, you kno—”
Sienna held her hand up imperiously, palm an inch from Logan’s nose. “I don’t want to hear it. Anyway, back to your question: The transition isn’t easy if you’re compromised. I could have taken you, but I hadn’t yet understood the technique well enough to transport two people, let alone one.”
“You’ve been going back and forth all along?” he asked, not caring that the accusation was clear in his tone.
“Did you really think I’d want to leave things all to Aunt Lyra? She may be our mother’s sister, but she’s not as strong as she tries to make herself look.”
Logan chuckled. “You think she’d bungle things in her final scene?”
“Who knows with her.” Then Sienna chuckled. “Actually, not really. Aunt Lyra’s got our best interests at heart, that much I know. But she’s a little too kind, and easily taken advantage of. Great-Uncle Vyrian has to keep a solid eye on her sometimes. She’s amazing with the political stuff, but matters of the heart...things can get a little muddy.”
“She has kept the place afloat all these years, hasn’t she?”
Sienna’s eyebrows rose. “And she almost sold me off to that bastard of an elf king, too. All because she couldn’t judge his true intentions because he’d used his thrall on her and she wasn’t strong enough to fight against his hold.”
“All the more reason for us to have gone back earlier.”
Sienna let out a disgusted snort. “You’d have had to take Darcy with you. There was no way she was about to let you go anywhere until she was sure things were looking better under the hood,” she said, folding her arms.
“Which I’m told is the case at this point. Is there any reason to continue delaying the inevitable?” asked Logan, his fingers tightening around the strap of his duffel.
Sienna cleared her throat. “Well. You’ve had zero training.”
“Something you should have thought about before this, don’t you think?” replied Logan, his tone cool.
Sienna glanced over at him, spine stiff as though ready for a fight. But as soon as she met Logan’s eyes she deflated, shoulders drooping. “Fine. I get it. I should have told you earlier...given you a chance to build up your skill at it. Which also means I’ll deserve it when we arrive and you want to rip my head off.”
“And why would I want to do such a thing?” Logan asked, a little more worried now as he wondered what else she hadn’t told him.
Sienna cleared her throat. “Well, the first time tends to have an overall effect on your body. Dizziness, disorientation, and nausea are the biggest concerns.” Sienna paused and looked over at Logan. “And I know as the new ruler, the last thing you’d want is to spray your breakfast all over Aunt Lyra and old Vyrian the moment you arrive.”
Logan gritted his teeth. “This is perfect,” he said darkly.
Still, Logan wasn’t so afraid of emasculation through vomit. Perhaps he’d have to ensure he kept close to the ground and maintain a low trajectory. Just in case, of course. And he was pretty certain he had a hardier gut than Sienna believed.
“Does our arrival have to be welcomed with pomp and ceremony?” he asked.
“The Queen Regent and the General are the least bit pomp and ceremony you’ll get. Trust me, you’d prefer arriving to their presence than to a grand reception of the full council and all their entourages.”
Logan took a deep, slow breath, forcing calm into his mind. “Sienna—”
Again, his sister cut him off with a slim finger near his nose. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’ve got things under control. We’ll arrive elsewhere within the castle and walk to the throne room instead. Lyra and Vyrian will be disappointed, but I’d rather you save face in front of them. You have enough obstacles to overcome when you take on your role. Can’t have you starting off on the wrong foot.”
“So where exactly are we going to arrive?” Logan asked, aware that he was a little nervous. The thought of the journey through the portal had somewhat extended the moment of arrival, giving him the idea that he’d have a slower progression to his arrival. Instantly appearing inside the palace hadn’t even been a distant possibility.
Suck it up, Saleem’s voice said in Logan’s mind. The damn djinn was like a ghost in Logan’s head, and he had to wonder why the voice of his conscience had taken on Saleem’s rough baritone. It only made Logan focus harder on the fact that he hadn’t heard from the djinn in a while.
Kai’s last words regarding Saleem also weighed on his mind. She’d said they had a crazy important thing, which required Logan to rest up. Was Saleem in some sort of trouble?
But Logan couldn’t concentrate on the djinn right now. If Saleem needed help, he’d find a way to let Logan know about it.
So, for now, he concentrated on Sienna who was saying something about a bedroom covered in dust.
“What bedroom?”
“Are you not listening to me?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
She could have easily just slipped into his mind to find out what he was thinking, but she’d stopped doing that a few days ago.
It had taken Logan long enough to learn to raise his defenses in order to keep some parts of his mind private from his sister. Sienna, of course, had mastered that art well before Logan, but she still suffered from momentary lapses when she was too emotionally inves
ted in something.
Now she poked him in his arm. “We’ll be arriving in your bedroom. It’s been prepared for you, and you’re going to thank me. You should have seen what they did with the place the first time around. Who in the world would have thought my brother, the General of Drakys, would want to sleep in a powder-blue and gold bedroom? It looked like Caryssa’s Bordello down in the Eastern Quarter.”
Sienna stopped speaking abruptly as she registered her words, then quickly slipped her hand into the crook of Logan’s arm.
“Come. We’d better be going. Hold tight to your duffel. There’s a high chance it’s going to get flung somewhere. Let’s hope we don’t break anything important.”
Logan’s last thoughts as his physical form fragmented into shards of shadows had nothing to do with how he’d feel on arrival in Drakys.
All he could think about was how Sienna had inside knowledge of what a bordello looked like.
Chapter 5
Logan
The arrival of His Majesty, Lyandr, General of the Realm of Drakys within his royal suites was the most unceremonious of landings he’d ever experienced. And he was infinitely glad that Sienna had had the forethought to ensure their appearance in Drakys was a private, unwitnessed event.
The duffel bag had gone flying—as his sister had predicted—and had engaged in a vigorous altercation with a six-foot-high wrought-iron column that had supported a gigantic bouquet of burnt orange flowers.
Said flowers—with their ragged-edged petals and blood-red hearts, were now strewn across the carpet, a sight to behold considering that each splash of brightness was larger than a dinner plate. The woven-metal column had survived the attack, now leaning precariously against the wall, a single spoke of iron the only thing keeping disaster at bay.
His Majesty, though, was a little uncertain of the prospect of his own survival.
Logan’s stomach muscles spasmed, his gut churning, his throat closing and opening of its own volition as he bent over and threw up. The destination of the contents of his stomach had turned out to be a gleaming golden bowl large enough for a small child to bathe within.
It appeared Sienna had been well prepared.
Logan raised his head a quarter inch to ask her if she was okay, but had barely moved when another wave of nausea flooded his senses. His eyes widened, and for the tiniest moment, he considered fighting the urge. Then he dropped down toward the bowl and retched again, the sound loud as the vomit slapped the sides of the golden basin and echoed back at him.
Logan had not felt this miserable in a long, long time.
Well, no. That is a bald-faced lie.
He had felt this way only a few days ago when Kai had ended up in the hospital. Now, feeling as though hours had passed since he and Sienna had materialized in his blue-and-gold royal suites, he hung his head over the golden bowl and retched some more, even though he was pretty certain there was nothing left.
At last, Sienna handed him a wet, soapy towel, and then a dry one after he’d cleaned his face up with the former. Logan dabbed his face dry now and let out a groan as he struggled to his feet and studied the room—which wavered dangerously in his vision.
“Woah, not so fast. You’ll need a minute.” Sienna grabbed Logan’s arm and guided him to a small seating-arrangement of two armchairs and matching footstools, separated by a low round coffee table. Logan didn’t complain about being babied, just sank into the soft cushion of the armchair and allowed Sienna to prop his feet up on the footstool.
“Now, sit tight. I’ll grab you something to drink.” Sienna spun on her heel, reddish gold hair flying, and rushed to a sideboard to Logan’s left. The long, dark-wood piece sat against a wall between two of six floor-to-ceiling windows that lead out onto a balcony large enough to fit a second bedroom.
Or maybe even an entire apartment.
Looking up though, turned out to be a bad idea, and Logan sucked in a harsh grunt and sank lower, hunching his shoulders as he took slow deep breaths while Sienna bustled around in a most motherly way. He’d dozed off a few times too, the jump itself having worn him out—never mind the killer upchuck attack.
Through lowered lids, Logan watched his sister, and caught glimpses of a memory from when they were younger—a more diminutive version of Sienna, holding a small pail filled with apples in one hand, the other grasping a too-full bucket of water. Great droplets sloshed against her skirt as she marched toward him, but she didn’t care, her face scrunched up with determination as she hauled her two burdens to the veranda.
Logan straightened from chopping the wood and called out to her to take it easy, but his sister had climbed the stairs and yelled out that she wanted all the chores done before he came ‘cos she was damned if she was going to see Mom get another blue eye.
Logan let out a grunt as the memory settled into his mind, as emotion filled him to overflowing just as much as his kid sister’s bucket of water—this was a picture of his past that he’d not possessed until this very moment.
“You okay?” came Sienna’s voice as she hurried over to him. “Here, drink some of this. It’s like cranberry juice. Nice and tart and good for your stomach.” Her tone was light, but he didn’t miss the edge of concern.
Logan forced a smile, though he suspected it revealed itself merely as a thin grimace, took the proffered goblet and sipped slowly, taking notice of the gilded stem and the crystal bell of the wineglass.
So much luxury in the first moments of being back in Drakys. Logan wasn’t sure he’d be able to take too much of it; luxury was something he was far from used to.
The drink was a deep blue and tart, and so very similar to the flavor of cranberry that he felt a little disoriented at the color. Logan shut his eyes firmly and sipped again, then sat back and let out a low sigh. “How long before this is over?” he asked, barely able to speak.
Sienna’s brow furrowed, her honey eyes still reflecting concern. “Can take a few minutes. Or a few hours. You’ve passed out three times already, so I’m beginning to think a certain MindMelder knew what she was talking about.” Her lip curled in a reluctant smile.
“I thought I’d already had a nap or two,” Logan said with a soft chuckle.
“Not naps, you dolt. You were lights out for almost forty minutes. Three times.” One eyebrow curved as she smirked.
“What’s the time?” Logan asked, a flick of alarm momentarily clearing his mind-fog.
“Eight-thirty…ish.” Sienna waved her hand. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. Just take it easy. I don’t want to have Darcy on my ass in case you kick the bucket on my watch.”
Logan chuckled.
And he may have passed out again because when he blinked, eyelids heavy, a low thud-thud drew his gaze to the pale carpet where Sienna was tapping her foot “—I’d prefer you on the bed but it’s a little too far away from you right now, and I ain’t carrying you.” Her arms were folded as she glanced momentarily over her shoulder at the bed, then met his eyes, forehead rumpled, making it clear she was trying hard to come up with a plan.
He let out a snort-laugh, wondering how far away a bed could be from him considering he was sitting inside the bedroom of his suites—a word he imagined himself drawing air quotes around every time he thought of it.
Logan forced his lids open and peered over the top of his goblet, then blinked as the gigantic bed, with its gold-and-bronze carved headboard, seemed to swim in the distance like a mirage.
“What are you laughing at?” Sienna asked reaching out with a napkin to wipe Logan’s cheek. He didn’t protest.
“The bed is too far away,” he said, chuckling again as he stared at the huge mattress.
Sienna clicked her tongue. “That’s what I just said, you dolt.” Then she let out a sigh. “Okay, I get it. Yeah, this place does tend to get a bit over the top. You get used to it.” Her eyes took on a faraway look as she took a breath, as though memories—whether fond or not, he didn’t know—had descended upon her.
Logan smiled, this time the expression more than a half-baked attempt as the churning in his stomach began to fade. “You’re the queen, though. I imagine your bedroom looks a damn sight more flamboyant than mine.”