Read Honeyed Words Online

Authors: J. A. Pitts

Tags: #Fantasy Fiction, #Fiction, #Urban Life, #Fantasy, #General, #Epic

Honeyed Words (27 page)

“How the hell are you?” he rumbled.

I bit my cheek to keep from crying again. “Doing okay,” I mumbled into his shoulder. He pushed me back, his hands on my arms, looking at me. He grabbed my right arm, holding it up, checking out the scars where I’d been burned to the bone by dragon fire, months earlier.

“Surprised, but very glad to see this has healed up so well,” he said. His voice was a bit husky there. Pain and worry painted his face for a second; then he laughed and pulled me into a hug once again. “Katie tells us you decided on knitting to work the hand.”

I grimaced and he smiled.

“Too girly for you?”

“I prefer fire and steel,” I said, pouting.

He laughed, holding me there. After a second, we stepped apart, and he wiped at his eyes. “Stuart and I thought we may need to come out and beat your ass,” he said, smiling. “When are you coming back to Black Briar?”

I must’ve grimaced, because he sighed and shook his head. “Stubborn as always,” he said. He pulled me around, wrapping one arm across my shoulder, and walked us both around the car. We went a little slower than I expected. Maybe he did need that cane still.

Anezka stood there, flipping one stray hair out of her face, and shuffling from one foot to another.

“And this beauty must be Anezka.”

What a charmer.

He dropped his arm from my shoulder, stepped forward, and held out his hand. When she reached out to shake his, he took hers, turned it over, bowed deeply, and kissed the back of her hand.

Fear and rapture flushed across her face for the briefest of moments, and then she giggled. He was grinning before he straightened up.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said.

She curtsied, which should have looked ridiculous in her jeans and sweatshirt, but there was an innocence and a beauty there that shone through. They stared at one another for a long bit, and I finally cleared my throat loudly.

“I’m hungry,” I said, overblown.

Gunther turned and held his elbow to Anezka. She winked at me, took his arm with both of hers, and strutted toward the restaurant, with a spring in her step that was nothing like the Anezka I’d come to know.

I rolled my eyes out of reflex and followed behind them. This was going to be a long breakfast.

Once inside, Gunther held out a chair for Anezka, then me. It was gallant and old-fashioned in a way that wasn’t creepy. Under most circumstances I’d have given him crap about it, but Anezka was eating up the attention.

We ordered eggs, ham and bacon, pancakes, and plenty of hot coffee. By the time the food came, Gunther and Anezka were laughing like old friends.

I sipped my ice water and watched them, wondering if I should just find another table.

Once the food arrived, however, it was down to business.

“Sarah says you know your motorcycles,” Anezka said as she poured hot sauce over her eggs.

Gunther shrugged. “Been riding since I was a kid, tinker around with them when I get a chance.”

“He’s being modest,” I said. “He’s good with engines and making things run.”

“I like a man who is good with his hands,” Anezka said, reaching for the salt and pepper.

Gunther winked at me as she dusted her eggs with pepper, and I almost choked. Totally soap-opera time. It was cute, though. Didn’t think I’d need any syrup for my pancakes at this rate.

Not soon enough, our plates were empty and we were settling down to drink our coffee and chat. The earlier hangover seemed to have faded from Anezka and she appeared much more relaxed.

Gunther picked up the check. As he was paying, Anezka leaned over to me. “I should probably ride with him, show him how to get out to my place, don’t you think?”

Oh, dear lord.

I smiled at her and patted her arm. “Good idea. The directions would be pretty iffy … what with that one sudden turn, right off of Highway 2 onto 209.”

She giggled again, slapped at my hand, and stood up. “I’ll go tell him,” she said.

I drank my coffee and watched her walk up to him as he paid. He stood a good foot or more taller than Anezka, so she had to look up at him, but she had her serious flirt on. If he hadn’t been so damn flirty himself, I’d feel sorry for him.

I’d never seen Gunther like this. Only time I really saw him was at Black Briar events, and most of those he was running with Stuart. “The twins,” as we called the two of them, were the backbone of Black Briar. Jimmy led the group, sure, but the Twins were the dynamic force. Maggie and Susan Hirsch had been another pair of players equally as personable and supporting, but they’d been killed by the dragon, horrible deaths that still haunted my dreams.

Gunther and Anezka rolled back laughing, and it seemed disrespectful all of a sudden.

Gunther dropped two fives on the table and waved from me to the door. “Shall we?”

I stood up, drained the last of my coffee, and set the empty cup on the table.

“Good idea,” I said, and headed to the door. There was definitely something dark in today’s mood, despite the way they carried on. I could feel it.

He held the door for her as she climbed into his truck. They both waved at me as they started off, like I couldn’t see them.

I followed them in the Taurus. At least Anezka sat against the door and not right up against Gunther, but she was turned toward him, talking and laughing the whole way. Maybe he’d put the cane in the seat between them, just to be safe. Made me smile.

Bub was going to have kittens.

Thirty-nine

 

Gunther did have a day gig that he needed to get to, so we really and truly needed to just look at the motorcycle when we got back to Anezka’s place. Keep it simple. No sweat, right?

I pulled up behind them in my traditional parking place across from her spread. Gunther stood beside his truck, leaning on his cane and eyeballing the place like it was haunted, though I don’t think Anezka noticed at first. She was halfway across the road, rattling on about something or other, when she finally realized that Gunther had stopped dead in his tracks. He was sniffing the air when I got out of my car and walked over to him.

“You feel it, too?”

He glanced at me, straightened his jacket, and nodded.

“Starts about where she’s standing,” I said quietly, pointing at Anezka.

She stood there, crossing her arms and watching us. I didn’t know if she felt it or not. I’d never asked her, which in hindsight seemed like a fairly dumbass move on my part.

Gunther walked forward slowly, setting the cane down with deliberate force, like he was afraid the road was slippery. He paused at the barrier and then pushed onward, carefully, like he was walking into the surf. I followed, felt the usual pressure as I crossed over into her domain, and let the uneasy feeling settle over me once again.

“First the bike,” Gunther said, smiling despite his obvious worry. “Then I would like to discuss a couple of other things.”

Anezka looked at him sideways, a petulant tilt to her smile. “Then, maybe we can discuss dinner sometime.”

Gotta hand it to her. She swung for the fence.

Gunther’s rich baritone laughter rolled over us, and the palpable malaise that surrounded the place faded measurably. “Deal,” he said and walked into the carport.

I parked myself on one of the empty oil drums she hadn’t cannibalized yet and watched as she unburied the bike. It looked like I remembered—long and sleek, with unexpected power and raw energy. Kinda like sex, only in red, black, and chrome. I had a serious hankering to open that beast up on the highway—let the wind wash over me at crazy speed— feel her purring between my thighs.

Man, was it just me, or did things get a little fuzzy there for a moment?

I may have moaned. Anezka and Gunther both looked at me, confused.

I cleared my throat. “Don’t mind me.”

The official inspection began with the fanfare one would expect of a Viking jazz mechanic: after much harrumphing and a few ah-has, Gunther slapped his big hands together and shook his head at us with a
tsking
reproach.

“Criminal,” he admonished us, “to let a fine piece of machinery like this be so neglected.” He walked across the driveway, turned back, and held one hand up. “Don’t touch anything,” he said. Then he hurried over to his truck and grabbed a box of tools and a charger. Obviously he had some practice, carrying the tools in one hand while he kept his balance with the cane, but I think he was just showing off.

He hooked up a battery charger and began tinkering with some valve or other, checked the oil, even tested the gas in the tank with a dipstick thingy he kept around for such purposes.

Anezka sidled over to me, leaned against my drum, and whispered sotto voce: “He’s dreamy.”

No way he didn’t hear, but we all pretended.

“She’s in pretty good shape,” he announced after a final cursory inventory. “Needs some work, but I think I can get her humming pretty well.”

This time, she waited until he was taking the tools back to his truck before she mentioned how he could make her hum anytime. I mean, seriously.

The charger did its job, and he cranked the bike over. It sputtered and coughed at first, but he revved the engine over and over until the idle smoothed out and the bike didn’t actually rattle apart, despite early indications.

“Injectors are seriously clogged,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag. “New battery, and I’ll have to check out the chain drive, brakes, coolant, the whole nine yards.”

The more he said, the worse I felt. “Bad?” I asked.

He laughed again. “Nothing critical at this point,” he said, smiling at me. “She’s a smoking hot ride.”

I elbowed Anezka before she could say anything, but the way she choked, I could tell she was dying to.

“Anyhoo,” he said, cutting off the engine, “I think I can have her up and running in a few days.”

“So I should buy her?” I asked, glancing between him and Anezka.

“Depends on price,” he said. “But I’d be willing to bet you’d get a good deal.”

“Offer stands,” Anezka said with a nod of her head. “Three hundred firm.”

Gunther coughed. “Okay, that’s seriously undervalued. What am I not seeing?”

Anezka shook her head. “Just friend’s discount, that’s all.”

I looked at her—no use lying to Gunther. He knew there was more to the story. “Old lover, bad blood,” I said, shrugging. “Don’t want to inherit any bad karma, but it fits my budget.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Gunther said, looking past us into the smithy. “What’s his take on the whole deal?”

Anezka and I both turned at once. Bub sat on top of the brick forge, preening.

Gunther hadn’t even batted an eye. Was the whole world in on the joke?

I mean, he’d seen the dragon, and the giants, trolls, ogres … hell, he knew about dwarves long before I did, but how could he be so unfazed by all of it?

“Bub lives here,” Anezka said, making it a challenge—territorial all of a sudden.

The thing about protecting a territory is that you lock yourself in, by keeping everyone else out. That likely explained the barrier we felt crossing onto the property. Between her and Bub, they’d built such a wall around them that it had become physical.

“At least this one isn’t a simpering git,” Bub cawed from the other room.

“I assume he means me,” Gunther said, amused.

I looked from one to another. Anezka was about three seconds from fleeing inside the house. Panic covered her face in scarlet blossoms.

Bub was arrogant and demonic, but that was how he always seemed.

“My, my,” Gunther drawled, slipping his thumbs into his belt and stepping between Anezka and Bub. “So this is the beastie that’s been hurting you for so long?”

Anezka opened her mouth but didn’t say anything.

He stepped into the smithy, pressing in on Bub’s domain. “Not quite what I expected under the circumstances, but I guess even the runt of the litter can find a home.”

“Bite me, old man,” Bub said, rising on his toes and snapping his jaws together with a
clack
. “You’re not the boss of me.”

Gunther flourished his left hand, his fingers crooked in a specific way I couldn’t make out, and called in a booming voice: “Fljúg burt, þú eldskepna!”

There was a sonic implosion, and Bub vanished.

Anezka shrieked and swooned. I slid from the barrel and caught her before she hit the ground. What had happened?

“That won’t keep him away for long,” Gunther said, turning back to us. “But I’d rather not deal with his kind.” He turned to Anezka and shook his head sadly. “How long have you suffered this creature’s presence?”

She struggled upright, shaking. “Suffered?” she squalled. Anger rolled over her like a tidal wave. “What did you do to him? How dare you?”

She pushed away from me and threw a haymaker at Gunther’s head.

He stepped back, deflected the blow, passing it in front of him, and channeled her energy away to the left.

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