Silk Dragon Salsa Read online

  “You care more about that cat than you do your car,” he pointed out, pinning the truth down with his words. “You call the Mustang baby and coo at it. I think it’s safe to say calling you Newt’s ad hoc father is well within bounds.”

  I snorted, overcome by the irony of a mangy, clipped-eared cat being my kid. Newt and I shared the same notches in our ears—battle wounds neither one of us could remember Newt getting or at least not a story he ever told me. Ryder gently placed the diminutive cat on the mattress, and Newt bounded over to my right foot to attack my big toe with a playful fierceness he usually reserved for roaches or knitted mice.

  Dressed in a loose pair of cotton pants and a T-shirt that looked suspiciously like one I’d lost on the last run we’d done together, he stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at me with a look of passive judgment I’d seen way too many times before. It was unnerving, mostly because I was too sober to deal with the churn of emotions raging through me and I didn’t have enough energy to fight my fingers’ itch to grab his shirt to pull him down onto the bed.

  Because sex never complicated anything. I took a hit of whiskey and let the burn scrape my throat raw, wishing it would take with it the ashes of my friendships that were somehow lodged in a hard knot in my chest.

  “I’m throwing a wake, so if you’re going to be in here, you’ve got to help me drink this,” I said, waving the bottle about slightly. “Because Newt sure as hell isn’t going to do it.”

  “That stuff can peel the enamel off your teeth,” Ryder said, angling his head slightly and studying me. “But sure, I’ll help you drink it. It’s the least I can do for a friend.”

  “That’s what we are? Friends?” I waited until he was settled against me, his shoulder pressed against mine, before handing over the bottle. “It’s hard to tell sometimes.”

  Unlike most people I knew, Ryder didn’t wipe the mouth of the bottle with his shirt before taking a swig.

  “Morrigan!” Ryder coughed, choking down the snort he’d gotten past his lips. “You sure that’s whiskey and not what you put in that car of yours? Dear Gods in the Skies. I can’t feel my tongue.”

  “Wimp,” I muttered, putting my hand around the bottle neck to tug it away. “It’s Jack. That’s smooth. Next time I’ll bring in some of that moonshine Jason and I cooked up at his place last year and see if you’ve got any flesh left on your tongue.”

  “Hold on, let me get some more in me. I might not be able to catch up with you, but at least let me try to get the taste out of my throat.” He took another tentative sip, barely suppressing the shudder the whiskey pushed through his bones. “Gods, that’s so foul.”

  “Keep drinking. When it starts tasting good, stop.” I chuckled, recalling the first time Dempsey gave me that advice about whiskey. “That’s when you know you’re drunk.”

  “Seems… counterproductive? Is that the right word?” Still, Ryder took another healthy gulp, then passed the bottle over, making a face when he swallowed. “It feels like my bones are on fire.”

  “Wait ’til you can’t feel your tongue.” Savoring the burn on the roof of my mouth, I let the Jack sit to sear my cheeks. “That’s the best part sometimes.”

  My head was buzzing with ideas I couldn’t shake, and from what I could see, no amount of whiskey would quiet them. Cradled in the soft bed and leaning on Ryder’s arm, I stared out at the cluster of low towers to the left of my spire, their windows bright with glittering lights. The forest surrounding the Court swayed around the serpentine flow of connected buildings, their curved shapes speckled with graceful turrets dotted with a complex weave of curling shadows and balconies.

  Whiskey kept away any guilt I might have felt about not visiting our twin nieces, but they were barely out of lump stage, so I couldn’t imagine Rhi and Kaia missing me at all, but Ryder always seemed to assure me they were delighted to see me. Mostly they giggled, played, and slept, their identical enormous emerald-ocean-and-slate eyes following every movement in the room. I liked them well enough, but they’d be a hell of a lot more interesting once they could hold a weapon for longer than a minute.

  The Jack was also keeping me numb enough not to wonder what the kiss Ryder and I shared did to the Court, other than seemingly give it a hard-on to stretch itself out, pull stone and wood from the ground, and let itself be shaped by the damned magic-wielding Sidhe who crooned lovingly at every faucet and doorknob they could shape out of the wall.

  “Is it me or is the damned place getting larger every time I blink?” The whiskey couldn’t take away the shock resonating in my soul from the Court’s avarice, its aggressive growth shoving the forest farther back toward the ravine. “And who the hell do you have living over there? I don’t think the rooms were even painted the last time I was here.”

  “We’ve got a few families coming down from the Courts in San Francisco and Seattle,” Ryder murmured, relieving me of the bottle. He held it against his chest, warming its amber depths. “The towers were done, so it made sense to put them there. There aren’t that many of us, but you’d be surprised to find out how much room a Sidhe needs to live. Some of the Court have moved into the spaces as well, mingling in. You should go meet them all sometime.”

  “Why?” The stars were dimming again as the storm rolled in closer. A hot splash of metal hung heavy with water filled the space, and Newt mewled his displeasure at the thunder rolling over Balboa. “They don’t know me from… Adam. Which would make more sense if you were human.”

  “You’re a part of the Court, and yes, they do know you. Alexa is more than happy to extol your virtues to anyone coming through our gates.” Ryder reached out to Newt, who sniffed at the Sidhe Lord’s extended fingers. “Do not bite me, gargoyle. I’ve got fish scraps in the kitchen with your name on them.”

  “He’d rather eat the fingers.” Snorting, I nestled down into the pillows again, wishing the whiskey would numb every inch of me. There were parts of my soul I couldn’t reach with its amber kiss, aching raw spots where I’d sliced apart my conflicted feelings for Jonas and Sparky. Maybe the booze made my tongue looser or maybe I just didn’t give a shit anymore, but the words were pouring out of my mouth before I could stop them, spilling into Ryder’s lap. “You know the shittiest thing about this whole thing? All this time, everyone’s been telling me how much of an asshole Dempsey is—was—but he was the one who protected me.”

  “Why did he tell you these things about Jonas and the others?” Ryder spoke carefully, treading softly across the eggshells I’d laid down between us. “Wouldn’t it have been better for you not to know how things were back then? I mean, they love you. I’ve never had any doubt about how Jonas feels about you, so why would Dempsey bring that all up now?”

  It was a good question. I asked that as well. Grimacing when Newt’s claws dug into my thigh, I responded, “Because he wanted me to know about how things were. So I knew what happened. How people thought. About me. About… him. I get that. I understand back then they never really saw an elfin up close unless of course they were killing it, and to everyone, I was probably the biggest monster they were ever going to face. It didn’t matter that I was half insane from iron and about as feral as a mad lemming, because all they saw were the pointed ears and glowing eyes.

  “He never spoke against any of them. He encouraged each of them to get to know me, to help make me human. Even with Sarah, who walked away from him. I was the reason they never got married. She didn’t want to raise a cat bastard her husband retrieved on a run.” I closed my eyes, willing the whiskey to stay down in my stomach. “I used to think people distanced themselves from Dempsey because he was an asshole, but the truth was, they were just avoiding me. He worked to bring Jonas and Sparky around, making them important to me, to my life, but even though he wanted me to understand how people changed—that everyone deserves a second chance—I can’t get past the idea that none of them were willing to help save me.”

  Ryder remained silent, but he took the bottle from me and set
it on the floor. His hands crept into mine, squeezing tight enough for me to feel his heart, but then I didn’t need to touch him to be aware of his presence. There was a part of him that lived inside of me even if I wasn’t willing to admit it, and in the flashing lights and angry shadows of the brewing storm, I couldn’t help but feel him anchoring me.

  “You know how much I love chocolate. My first real memory of Jonas was him giving me a piece of it. Apparently he’d come out to meet Dempsey to take me to Elfhaine. They’d made arrangements to meet up someplace near Ithaca so Jonas could help transport me. That’s when Dempsey told him the deal was off. That he was going to take me in and give me a life, because he knew in his gut that if ever I made it to Anaheim, I would never see the light of day again.” I took a breath, amazed at how hard it was to get my lungs to breathe. Pain pressed into my chest, sharp phantom daggers of whispered words piercing through my soul. “He’d given me chocolate to make me complacent, to make it easier to lead me to my slaughter in Elfhaine without a fight. So tell me, what’s the difference between Jonas and Tanic? Tell me, what’s the difference between the executioner with a carrot and the psychopathic Wild Hunt Master with a stick?”

  “That’s not who he is now,” Ryder pointed out. “He thinks of you as his son as much as Dempsey did.”

  “That’s because he doesn’t see me as an elfin anymore,” I said, suddenly missing the rest of the bottle. “You should hear them sometimes, talking about the wars and what they went through with the cat bastards they fought. And then there’s always a little hiccup of space before they assure me they’re not talking about me. That they don’t think of me that way. Listening to Dempsey talk to me about how I was going to need to change how I felt about the Sidhe, how I needed to embrace being an elfin, was just lost in a bunch of buzzing noise, because all I could hear was how every single one of them wanted to turn me over, to make me go away so Dempsey could go on with his life. Even if mine ended.”

  “You don’t know that. Maybe the contract to extract you was because your mother’s family found out you existed and they wanted to bring you home.” He moved closer, until the length of his body was up against mine, pressing against me in delicious and confusing ways. “Dempsey might have read it wrong. You don’t—”

  “The contract was for dead or alive.” I felt his startled gasp more than I heard it. “He would’ve gotten double the contract if I were alive, but they were more than happy with dead. Greed kept my head on my neck long enough for Dempsey to get me out, and then after that, whatever good he had inside of him gathered up into a ball of stubborn and refused to give me up. He told me everything they gave him for the contract was left with his brother Kenny in New Vegas. The guy hates my guts, but I’ve got a handful of Dempsey’s ashes to give him and his share of Dempsey’s estate, providing he coughs up what’s in that deposit box.

  “Dempsey told me it was up to me about whether or not I opened it. He thought I shouldn’t go chasing after ghosts, but it looks like shit is coming for me, or at least has been for a while. I just didn’t know it. So not only do I have Tanic to worry about, but somebody living under Sebac’s web wanted me dead.” I was grateful for Ryder’s hand, unwilling to let him go even when the cold wind blew through the open doors, leaving my skin icy. “He didn’t tell me before because he didn’t think I could hold my own. I was too young and inexperienced and pretty much hidden from view. Not now. Now everyone up north knows I exist, and Tanic is circling. Funny thing is he really wasn’t sure if I would survive with just Jonas and the others at my side, but now there’s you and the Court. He somehow thought you’d stand with me, although I don’t know how much good that would do against anything. It’s not your fight. And it sure as hell’s not theirs.”

  “It is my fight. Wherever you go, I will be there,” Ryder whispered. He leaned over, pressing his forehead against my temple. “I am your friend. At the very least, I am that, even as I want more. And having said those words, I will tell you I will go with you to give your respects to Dempsey’s brother, and I should probably leave you to get some sleep.”

  “Yeah. Sleep would be good. I don’t want to think about any of this right now. It’s too much.” I refused to let go of his hand. Despite not having another mouthful of liquor, I was getting drunker by the moment, and the thought of being alone hurt more than any betrayal I felt. I licked my lips, then said, “Stay. Please.”

  His eyes were as verdant as the forests surrounding the Court, his handsome face nearly expressionless, but a hint of a smile played at his lips. “As much as I would love to take what you have to offer, I don’t think either one of us is in any condition or the right frame of mind. Besides, if I take advantage of you when you’re drunk, you’d stab me when you woke up sober.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about sex. Even though, you know, nothing beats a good sweaty tumble when you’re pissed off. I just want….” I felt raw and scraped apart, peeling myself open for Ryder to plunge his hand into my guts to play with what he found there. “I just don’t want to sleep alone. I’m just so… fucking tired of being alone, Ryder.”

  I couldn’t read him. Not then. He was so still I wasn’t even sure he was breathing.

  “I can definitely spend the night holding you,” he finally said, then glanced at the open doors. “Right after I close those. Or we’ll freeze no matter how many blankets I pile on top of us.”

  He eased out of the bed, leaving Newt and me behind. Closing the doors softly, he stood in front of the glass, a dark shape outlined by the dimming city lights. I still had his warmth on my skin, more potent than the whiskey I’d gulped down to ease my hurt. He turned to pad back, then stopped at the end of the bed when I cleared my throat.

  “I’ve never slept with someone holding me before,” I whispered up at him. “It’s not something I’ve ever done.”

  “Well then, thank you for letting me be your first, my Chimera,” Ryder said in a teasing lilt, pulling the duvet up from the bottom of the bed. He slid into bed next to me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and held me against him. “I am honored.”

  “And just so you know,” I muttered, shifting until I was comfortable, “you’re probably a hell of a lot more than a friend, but right now, I can’t deal with any of that. Not until I get my own head on straight, and sure as hell not until I find out who hired Dempsey to bring me in like a black-dog pelt. Not like I can go live my life when there’s people out there who are damned determined to bring it to an end.”

  Five

  THE STORM left a sodden forest in its wake, broad leaves torn from the canopy and scattered about the ground. The Court’s governing population apparently began bickering at dawn that day about whether to clear the debris, with a great many arguing the natural lay of the leaves was the will of the forest. I’d walked in to find out where I could get something to eat and maybe a knife to cut my aching head off from my neck. The barrage of liquid elfin words made me wince, and I wasn’t sure if it was a residual loathing left over from my father weaving spells or the whiskey, but either way, the stupidity of the people gathered together to talk about wet fallen leaves overwhelmed my vow not to get involved.

  “At least clean up the damned walks and courtyards before one of you slips and breaks your dainty ass on the bricks. And Pele help you if one of the kids cracks their heads open, because if that happens to any of them, I’m going to come back and take the skin off of everyone who argued to leave that shit on the ground,” I snarled, trying to quell the pounding in my head. “Now, is there any coffee in this place or am I going to have to go hunting for some in the city?”

  Ryder barely hid his smirk as he pointed toward an open door, saying he’d meet me in the kitchen in a few minutes, then politely asking me not to eat anyone along the way.

  After baring my fangs at him, I slunk off to the kitchens, keenly aware of the tense silence I left behind me.

  This wasn’t my Court. These weren’t my people. I had no right to tell them what to do, and I�
��d stepped on every single one of Ryder’s toes, but he said nothing when he joined me in the main hall’s kitchen, making me a grilled cheese sandwich for breakfast as I brewed us a strong pot of coffee. We ate in silence. Then I fled to the courtyard where I’d left the Mustang to spend a good half an hour picking wet leaves off its body before I could begin tackling its wonky carb.

  I was cranky and out of sorts, a cat with a kinked tail with no way to straighten it out other than to wait for the rocking chair to swing down on it again. Everything and everyone was rubbing me wrong, and after the twentieth or so leaf I’d pulled off the Mustang’s once-gleaming red body, I snarled at the buildings behind me, baring my canines at them much like I’d done the council gathered around Ryder to talk about cleaning the damned sidewalks.

  “You want to build me something?” I hissed at the tower dotted with metal and wood the Court grew for me. “Make me a damned garage so I don’t have to get shit off my car every time I wander into Wonderland.”

  I had turned back to finish the job when I heard scraping and rumbling behind me. Refusing to look, I left the Court to whatever shenanigans it was going to get up to and sent a quick prayer to Pele that whatever it was going to drag up from the ground wouldn’t block anyone’s windows. The elfin had a thing about sunlight, and I already felt like an asshole for the tower it built for me absorbing all of the windows and balconies of Ryder’s suite after the Court got a wild hair up its butt and decided I needed someplace to live among its menagerie.

  Mock phoenix swarmed into a curving pink-and-orange murmuration around the towers, weaving between the pale-oyster turrets, leaving a swirl of sparkles in their wake before disappearing into the heavy forest canopy beyond the Court. Somewhere nearby something wild screamed in the damp shadowy depths beyond the courtyard and its long stretches of buildings. I could see the top of the organ pavilion down the way, visible through the red maple trees run wild over the grown-over paved roads cars once used to get from one part of the park to the next. The Merge stole bits and pieces of Balboa, replacing entire sections with Underhill forest while leaving other parts behind, including most of the wild animals living in the zoo below the 8 Corridor. Some had been recaptured while others found new living arrangements, like the lion colonies in Kearny Mesa. I wasn’t all that concerned about anything other than the occasional panda and perhaps a black dog, but I’d not seen an ainmhi dubh since I’d tossed my half brother over the ravine and into the river at the west end of the Sidhe’s territory.