Waging War (27 page)

Archer nodded. “Deer, fox, hare,
pheasant.”

“Are ye goin’ out, or can I hunt?”

Archer seemed startled that his feeding
habits would be discussed so casually, and he shot me a slightly
mortified look. I had forgotten how uncomfortable my modern Archer
had been admitting to the sustenance needs of a Vampire. So, I
shrugged to show him my lack of concern, and then bent over my
satchel to dig out a linen cloth.

“I’m happy to go with you for company, but I
have no need to go for myself,” Archer finally said, only a little
awkwardly.

“I’ve a mind to do a little scourin’ of the
woods for yer wolves. If I ‘appen upon any deer while I’m out,
well, that wouldn’t be unwelcome in the ‘ouse, I reckon.” Ringo
threw us a jaunty wave and left the barn.

Archer laughed quietly as the door closed
behind Ringo. “God, I’ve missed him.”

I nodded at one of the full buckets. “Any
chance I can use some of that for a sponge bath?”

“That’s why I brought it. I could use one
too.”

I quickly stripped off my wool jacket and
the cotton shirt Ringo had found for me in the bowels of Elian
Manor’s 1940s closets, and dipped the cloth in the cold water. It
wasn’t a bath or a shower, but it would do.

“You know, if I had a police box to Clock
in, I would definitely make sure it had a shower …” My words faded
away as I turned to find Archer stripped to the waist, scrubbing at
himself with a wet washcloth.

He looked up and caught me staring. There
was a moment of pure motionlessness from both of us. I tried to
speak, and then had to clear my throat to do it properly. “I don’t
often … see you,” I faltered. The words sounded lame and I tried
again. “I’m pretty used to naked Shifters. They don’t really think
about it, and it’s no big deal. But you don’t …” I faltered again.
“You’re always dressed.”

“Does this bother you?” His voice was low,
almost quiet, and his eyes never left mine as my gaze trailed over
strong shoulders, lean hips with those V lines that defied
explanation, and an improbable washboard in between.

Was he kidding?
Is he kidding?
My
Cougar surged just below the surface of my skin, and I flushed with
the heat of her, and maybe the heat of him.

Stop it
, I snarled at my Cat. Her
presence unsettled me.

“It … affects me.” I inhaled, which was a
mistake because my Cat was so close to the surface and the heady
warm spice scent that was Archer filled my senses.

“Really.” A statement, not a question.
Spoken in quiet tones reserved for darkness and a shared bed.

“My Cat is too close. She wants me to
Shift.”

Archer’s eyes dropped to the Shifter Bone
that dipped into my camisole. “Show me.”

My Cat surged up, called by the heat that
suddenly flushed through me. I closed my eyes and locked my skin in
place. After a long moment I opened them again. Archer’s gaze was
dark and direct, and I felt gripped by it. I wanted more than his
eyes on me.

I stepped out of my trousers and lifted my
camisole over my head. A chill in the barn was the only thing that
kept me from igniting.

And then I Shifted.

I knew the air around me rippled and
shimmered, and I felt my Cat become herself. Become
my
self.
And with every languid stretch of her muscles, I knew I still had
control.

Archer gasped quietly. “My God, you’re
exquisite.”

I went to him then, wearing the confidence
of my Cat like a silky heat. His fingers trailed through my fur,
weaving through the tawny strands with gentle strength. His touch
startled a rumble from deep in my chest, and I realized I’d
purred.

Archer dropped to his knees in front of me
and looked into my Cat’s eyes. “It’s still you. Your eyes are still
yours.” His voice was reverent and laced with awe. I ducked my head
under his hand and he stroked the length of my body, feeling muscle
and sinew relax under my Cougar skin.

It was the most luxurious thing I’d ever
felt, and my chest rumbled with reflexive purring. I nuzzled his
neck and inhaled the scent of him as my heart pounded in my Cat’s
chest.

The luxury of being petted had become
something primal, and I pulled myself away from my Cat’s
instincts.

I wanted him for me, not for her.

So I Shifted back.

His hands were still on me, on my naked skin
when I returned to my human form. He didn’t flinch, and neither of
us moved. Archer’s eyes still held mine until finally, he closed
them and seemed to find his self-control. I could feel him pull
back, so I removed myself from his hands and quietly pulled on my
clothes.

Archer’s eyes finally opened again when I
was dressed, and he seemed shaken. I waited for him to speak, but
he took my hand in silence and led me to the straw bed I had made
for us.

My heart was slamming against my ribs, and I
tried not to let him feel my trembling. He laid us both down and
then turned me away from him so that he could wrap around me like a
cloak. I waited for some movement, some indication of what would
happen, but Archer just held me, wrapped in his arms, as if he
would never let me go.

Eventually the butterflies quieted and the
trembling stopped. And when I woke up, he was gone.

Archer – Present Day

The hollowness since she’d left was
crushing.

I’d felt like a shark the past few days,
always moving so I didn’t have time to feel her absence.

When I woke with a vivid memory of the night
in Marianne’s barn when I’d left her sleeping, I was furious at
myself – at the man I’d been then. I was consumed with jealousy
that she was with him – with
me
. It was utterly irrational
and arguably insane to be jealous
of myself
.

Saira’s habit of running had become my own,
and I’d found it was generally an effective means of avoiding the
company of the well-meaning and wonderful family with which she had
surrounded herself. I’d been least successful at shaking the young
Shifters since coming to stay at Elian Manor, and they had been
methodically eroding my will to be alone.

I returned from my rooftop prowl, having
been kept company by a large Philippine Eagle, to find Adam Arman
in the library with his sister, Ava. Sanda had set tea things for
three, and I raised my eyebrows. “Expecting someone?”

“Hoping to find you, actually.” Arman looked
me right in the eyes. There was defiance in his gaze, as if he
dared me to challenge him. I permitted myself a small smile at
Sanda’s observance of propriety in setting a tea cup for me despite
the fact I hadn’t used one in over a century. In fact, the last cup
of tea I’d ever had was from a chipped green mug in Ringo’s flat. I
shook my head to clear the image of Saira, so beautiful in that
flat on the last day of my life as a normal man, and focused my
thoughts on the present.

“If it’s a social visit, I warn you, I’ve
been better company.” I sat at my favorite library table and
swiveled the captain’s chair away from the view of my own
hollow-eyed gaze in a mirror over Arman’s left shoulder. Ava’s
expression was entirely too sympathetic for my temper, so
thankfully it was her brother who spoke.

“Our parents are playing a very political
game, and their focus at the moment is the Descendant Council.
Despite Lady Elian’s appeal to wait until there’s a suitable
replacement for Rothchild if they remove him by force, they
continue to insist that the vote be held at the next Council
meeting. With Shaw and the Ladies Elian so clearly at odds with our
parents’ plan, we can’t go to them for help.”

“For help with what?” I studied the young
man, who always seemed so comfortable in his own skin. It was a
trait that had taken me several decades to learn, and I admired him
for it.

“There is a war coming between the
Immortals,” said Ava, “and the mixed-blood Descendants are in the
biggest danger.”

My eyes narrowed. “Don’t you mean between
the Immortal Descendants?”

Ava’s gaze never left mine. “I mean what I
said.”

The ramifications of her statement were
staggering. The original Immortals hadn’t appeared among the
Descendant Families for centuries, maybe even millennia. Whatever
Ava had Seen was far bigger than Family squabbles about who the
current Monger Head was.

I studied them for a long moment, until the
silence in the room became deafening. Whatever the Immortals were
planning had nothing to do with me, so that couldn’t be what
inspired the Arman twins to visit. “Why come to me?”

Arman glared at me. “We need to find the
mixed-bloods, and you’re sitting here twiddling your thumbs. I want
to know what you’re waiting for.”

“What makes you think I’ve been waiting?” In
fact, I’d been prowling around London museums nearly every night
looking for signs of Seth Walters and his Mongers. I inhaled and
deliberately changed my tone. “Information. That’s what I’m
lacking. What do you have?”

That question, and perhaps my less defensive
tone of voice, seemed to unlock the tension that had coursed
through the twins since they had walked in the door. Arman almost
sighed in relief. “We figured out who the leprechaun is that Ava’s
been Seeing.”

I raised an eyebrow at Ava and she smiled.
“He spelled out his name on a wall. It’s Tam.”

“Olivia’s friend?”

“The one who was with Cole and Melanie when
he was taken, yeah.” Arman nodded.

“Did none of them think to mention he has
green hair?” I scoffed. I was clearly still in a mood, and Arman
had put himself directly in my way. “Where are they being held?” I
was ignoring, for the moment, the remarkable fact that Ava and this
Tam could communicate through her Sight.

“I asked him, of course.” Ava’s voice smiled
as brightly as her face did, while undeniable wisdom danced in her
eyes. “They’re in an Underground station. He doesn’t know which
one, but I Saw the train carriage where they sleep.”

Connor spoke as he entered the library.
“Must be a ghost station.” Young Logan was right behind him,
excitement writ large on his face. Connor turned to him. “Upstairs
in the game room is the
Underground London
book Saira’s
always poking through. Grab that?”

Logan shot him a look of
you’re not the
boss of me
, but then exploded into the shape of a Hummingbird
and was gone. Connor rolled his eyes. “And … now he’ll be naked for
the rest of the night.”

That got a laugh from the twins. I’d grown
very fond of the Edwards brothers, and the young one’s ability to
wind up his elder sibling reminded me of the way Ringo poked at
Saira – always subtle, but right in the places that mattered.

Connor turned to me. “By the way, Uncle Bob
said his Home Office contact told him about two ghost stations
where they hid art from the British Museum during the bombings in
World War II: Aldwych and the British Museum station.”

“There is no British Museum station. To get
to the museum you get off at Holborn or Tottenham Court Road.”
Arman sounded so sure of himself. “And why was he asking about
that?”

I realized the twins had likely not heard
about the contents of my note to Ravi, so I quickly filled them in
on the details of what we knew, just before Logan entered the
library swimming in a shirt and shorts I’d seen Ringo wear, and
holding a book open to read as he walked. He was talented in more
than just the ways of Shifting, obviously. “There
is
a
British Museum station,” he announced, “but it’s been closed since
1933.”

“There are a lot more ghost stations than
those two around London, though.” Arman said.

“But Aldwych and British Museum are closest
to Russell Square, which is where Daisy was spotted the night she
disappeared.” Connor reminded him.

“Notwithstanding the proximity to Holborn
station, does it seem odd to anyone else that we’re collapsing the
Werwolf mission of 1944 with the missing mixed-bloods of today?”
There shouldn’t be a link, and if anyone else had suggested it, I
would have thought they were indulging in fanciful coincidence. But
somehow, I felt there was a connection. I’d directed the question
to Connor. Aside from Ringo, with his encyclopedic knowledge of
anything he’d ever read, Connor was one of the most logical people
I’d ever encountered.

“Tom is the link,” he said simply.

Arman stared at Connor. “Why?”

Connor shrugged. “I don’t know why. But
Tom’s the link. He’s mixed, and Walters – his biological father –
was willing to trade mixed-bloods for him. And now Tom’s messing
around there in 1944? The two things are definitely linked.”

Ava spoke quietly to me. “What do you See,
Archer.”

I growled in frustration. “I don’t See
anything. But there’s something …” I focused on Connor. “Run down
everything Saira told us about Walters when he had her in his
office.”