Storm and Fury by Jennifer L. Armentrout

6

Leaning against the wall by the door, ankles crossed, Zayne was too far away for me to make out his expression. He was dressed a lot like he’d been the night before. Black henley paired with dark jeans, a startling contrast to his golden skin and hair.

“You’re really good at that,” he said, crossing his arms. “And I find myself thoroughly grateful that you did not have those daggers with you last night.”

“Thanks,” I said, heart thumping heavily as I glanced around the otherwise empty room and then back to him. “How long have you’ve been standing there?”

“Long enough to wonder if you were trying to memorize every centimeter of the blade before you threw it.”

My cheeks heated. Great. “Do you normally watch people without alerting them to your presence?”

“I figured you saw me,” he said, and I guessed that was true. He would figure that. “I wasn’t exactly hiding behind a curtain or something.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You could’ve said hi instead of watching me in silence.”

“Well, the last time I tried to alert you to my presence, you tried to kill me.”

My brows lifted. “I did not try to kill you.”

“Not how it felt from my perspective.”

“Then your perspective leans toward the overdramatic.”

“You’re hard to talk to,” Zayne said after a moment.

Offended, I glared at him. “No, I’m not.”

“Okay, let me rephrase that. You’re argumentative.”

“No, I’m not.”

Zayne stared at me, as if me arguing with him just then was proof enough of what he claimed.

It was sort of proof of what he claimed, and that irritated me. “Why are you here?”

“Like on Earth, at this place, at this right moment and exact time—”

“That’s not what I meant.” I cut him off, and I swore I heard a smile in his voice. Was he...teasing me? “Why are you in this room, watching me?”

“You make it sound like I’m stalking you.”

“You said it, not me.”

He pushed off the wall but didn’t come forward. “I’m sort of surprised to find you in here,” he said, instead of answering why he was here.

“Why is that?” I started toward the dummy to retrieve the daggers. “Because I’m human?”

“Yeah, well, yes.” There was a pause. “There are a lot of Wardens who can’t hit a target as well as you just did.”

I couldn’t help it. That little compliment, intended or not, brought a smile to my face and a surge of pride.

“You really are trained, aren’t you? That’s why you reacted the way you did last night.”

Stopping in front of the dummy, I pulled the first blade out. “I have some training.” Out came the next blade, and I turned around. He wasn’t by the wall anymore. He was in the center of the room. I drew in a shallow breath. Earlier I had told myself I needed to apologize to him, and now was a better time than ever I’d supposed. “About last night? I...think I owe you an apology.”

“You think?”

“Well, I know I do.”

He moved closer, and I saw that his hair was down, brushing the strong line of his jaw. “Really?” He sounded surprised, which was messed up since he didn’t know me. “You’re going to apologize?”

I walked toward him, shifting the blades to one hand, and as I drew closer, the striking details of his face became clearer. I sort of wished they’d stayed blurry. I dropped my gaze to his throat.

It was a nice throat.

Thinking his throat was nice was really weird.

“Now I feel like I shouldn’t, because you’re irritating me again.”

“Don’t let that get in the way.”

“It’s already in the way,” I replied dryly. “But I...I overreacted. You didn’t grab me.” When I lifted my gaze to his, he was staring back at me, and I was finally close enough to see his eyes. They were... They were the palest shade of blue framed by the thickest lashes I’d ever seen on a guy. The color was odd, because all Wardens had bright blue eyes, but his were wolf eyes, cool as winter frost. Curiosity piqued.

I cleared my throat. “So, that was...wrong of me and stuff.”

“And stuff?” A grin played over his full lips. “I accept your apology.”

“Good.” I shifted my gaze over his shoulder. If Misha returned and found Zayne here, he would have a minor stroke and never leave my side again.

“Actually, I was looking for you.”

Surprise flickered through me and I took a small step back. The grin faded from his lips. “Why?”

“Because we got off on the wrong foot,” he explained. “I’m a guest here, and usually I’m more...amicable than I was last night.”

Some of the tension seeped out of my shoulders. “Well, I did swing at you, and that kind of set the tone.”

“It did, but it was mostly on me. I was just so surprised to see a human at the regional seat.” Thick lashes lowered, shielding those strange eyes. “May I?”

It took me a moment to realize he was talking about the daggers. “Sure.”

His fingers brushed mine as he took one, causing that strange little jolt to travel up my arm. A sense of...familiarity swept over me, a feeling of rightness, of many moving pieces finally clicking into place.

I jerked my hand back.

I lifted my gaze to his and sucked in a sharp breath.

His eyes were wide, and his head was cocked slightly, like... Like he felt something he didn’t understand.

Or he could just be looking at me because I was acting bizarrely.

Probably that.

Zayne cleared his throat. The dagger was so much smaller in his hand. “I didn’t say anything to the Duke about you being in the Great Hall last night.”

“Thanks.” I watched him turn and walk toward where I’d been standing when I threw the blade. “Misha did, anyway, so...”

“The guy who was with you last night?” Zayne glanced over his shoulder. “He seems...uptight.”

I snickered at that as I moved out of the path of the dummy. “It’s kind of his job.”

Facing the dummy, Zayne looked over at me. “His job is being uptight?”

Hell.

Why did I say that? I wanted to punch myself. “I meant, it’s more like his personality. He meant no harm by it.”

Except Misha did mean harm by it. He’d said Zayne was a bad guy, but Zayne really didn’t need to know that.

Zayne stared down at the dagger, looking like he wanted to say something but was refraining.

“Are you going to throw it?” I asked.

Sending me a grin, he lifted a shoulder. “Maybe I just like holding it?”

My lips twitched. “Maybe.” I thought about what I’d overheard last night. This was my chance to find out what the heck was going on. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you really think it’s not a demon killing the Wardens and other demons?”

“You were there.” He paused. “Hiding behind the curtain, so you heard what I thought.”

I ignored the curtain statement. “But what else could it be?”

Zayne was silent for a long moment. “I don’t know. None of us do, and all of us have seen some strange stuff—not as strange as a fully trained human living at the regional seat—but very strange stuff. That’s what concerns us.”

Me living here was strange, but not that strange. “I...think I’d be concerned, too.”

“You’d think the Duke would be also.”

“I’m sure he is. Thierry hides what he’s thinking pretty well.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the next. “Did you know that two days before you all showed up, there were Ravers in the woods outside our walls?”

His features sharpened. “No, I didn’t know that. No one mentioned it to us.”

I opened my mouth to respond, and then realized that if they hadn’t been told yet, I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut. “Oh. Well, I’m sure it’ll come up.”

“Why in Hell would Ravers come all the way out here?”

“Good question,” I murmured. “There wasn’t an Upper Level demon with them. Just a horde of Ravers, sort of like what you said about DC.”

He was quiet for a moment. “You know a lot about demons.”

It wasn’t poised as a question, so I shrugged. “Picked up quite a bit living here.”

“Have you heard about the raids on other communities?”

“Yes, but Thierry doesn’t know I’ve heard that.”

“Snooping behind curtains again?”

I fought a grin. “More like standing outside closed doors.”

“You do that a lot?”

“Enough to know better.”

He inclined his head. “Doesn’t make sense for any demon to try to invade this place, with the number of Wardens in various stages of training.”

I agreed. The only way it made sense was if the demons knew what else was inside these walls. “Maybe they were lost. Or bored.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t remotely sound like he agreed with that, and I really hoped he wouldn’t mention to anyone else what I’d told him. “Besides the blade throwing and what I saw last night, what else are you trained in?”

I folded my arms and told a lie. “Not that much. Just little things that Misha has taught me.”

“Did he teach you how to throw?”

Misha hadn’t been the only one to train me. Thierry and Matthew had a huge part in it. “Yeah, but I’m better than him at it.”

Zayne chuckled, and the sound was still as nice as it had been last night as he cocked his arm. His movements were fast, and he let go of the dagger before I realized it. It struck the dummy, and I hurried over to see that it had hit the stomach.

“Was that where you were aiming?” I asked, wrapping my fingers around the still-thrumming handle.

“If I said it was, would you believe me?”

“No,” I laughed, pulling the blade out.

“I was aiming for the chest.”

“Then I’m better than you, too.” I turned around.

“Looks that way.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I haven’t used daggers in ages.”

“You really don’t need to.”

“Do you?”

The question caught me off guard, and my mind raced to find a possible unsuspicious answer. “Um, you never know. I mean, I do live with a race demons like to target, and we did have Ravers outside the wall,” I said. Okay. That was a smart answer, and I was rather proud of myself. “That’s why I know basic training and how to throw a dagger.”

“Smart. If you’re ever out with one of them, you’ll be able to defend yourself if you have daggers with you.”

What he didn’t know was that I really didn’t need daggers. If push came to shove, I could take Zayne down. I could take every Warden here, and barely break a sweat.

He walked back to me, and when he handed me the blade, I made sure our fingers didn’t touch.

“Have you seen a demon?” he asked.

“Yes. Have you?”

Zayne laughed then, and it was a real one. Deep. Throaty. Sexy as holy Hell. “You’re kind of a smart-ass.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“What kind of demons have you’ve seen? Just the Ravers?”

“Why are you asking so many questions?” I started for the table.

“I’m curious as Hell about you.”

“Because I live here?” I placed the daggers in their little slots. “If you saw me on the streets, you wouldn’t look twice in my direction.”

“That’s not true.”

My fingers lifted from the daggers as my gaze shot to where he now stood beside me.

“I always look twice or maybe even three times at a pretty girl,” he said, and that easy grin was back, curving up one side of his lips. “I don’t think we’re supposed to admit that now, or do that, but it’s the truth.”

I was still staring at him.

The grin grew into a wide smile, warming those cool blue eyes. “Did I cross a line there?”

“No.” I blinked, refocusing on the satchel. I closed the sides and tied them together. “Your curiosity is going to lead to one epic letdown.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I’m not very interesting.”

“That is probably the least correct thing I’ve heard all day.”

I fought a grin, thinking if he only knew the truth. “My mom knew Thierry before he became a Duke, while he lived in New York. She was attacked by a demon, exposed to them when I was a kid, and the rest is history,” I said, repeating what Thierry had told me to say. “When he became a Duke, we moved here with him.”

“Your father didn’t come?”

A near-hysterical-sounding laugh bubbled up my throat. “No. He’s around, but he’s not here.”

His brows furrowed as if he was trying to work that one out. He never would. Not in his wildest imagination. “And your mother?”

I looked away as a sharp twinge of pain lit up the center of my chest. “She’s gone.”

Zayne didn’t answer for a long moment. “Gone as in...no longer with us?”

Nodding, I swallowed the sudden knot that always appeared when I thought about Mom. “Yeah.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that,” he said, and when I looked at him, his gaze roamed over my face. “Losing a parent is... It’s never easy.”

His gaze caught mine and held, and I asked, “Do you...know how that feels?”

“My mother died giving birth to me, like many of our females do.” He brushed a strand of hair back behind his ear. “My father died a few months back.”

My heart squeezed at the unexpected piece of information. “I’m so sorry to hear that. God, that’s...intense. I’m really sorry. My mom died about a year ago, so it’s still fresh, but not...not like that.”

“Thank you.” He looked away.

Something clicked into place as I studied his profile. My stomach dipped. “Was your dad Abbot? The clan leader of DC?”

His head swiveled back to me. “Yes.”

“I’m really sorry.” I leaned to the side, catching his eyes. “He died a warrior’s death.”

“He did.”

“I know that doesn’t make it easier.”

“It doesn’t.”

Wardens weren’t easy to kill, but death was a shadow that always lingered a few steps behind them, as it was a horrific part of their everyday lives. That didn’t make death any easier to process.

“I really am sorry,” I repeated, feeling as if I needed to say it again. I cradled the leather satchel to my chest as something else started to click into place. Abbot, his father, had been the clan leader in DC, which meant, upon his death, Zayne should’ve ascended to the role. Had he been challenged by Nicolai and lost? Or had he refused to take the role? The latter seemed impossible to believe.

I thought about Misha’s warning. Had the clan not accepted Zayne as a leader? He was young—he couldn’t be more than a few years older than me—but was it more than that? Which didn’t make sense, because if that was the case, Thierry would know and not say that Zayne was honorable.

“So,” I said, running my fingers over the smooth leather. I knew what I was about to ask was grossly personal, but like Thierry had said earlier, I was often too curious for my own good. “Why aren’t you the clan leader?”

Zayne looked down at me. “That’s not something I can talk to you about.”

Disappointment rose, even though it wasn’t an unexpected response. “Because I’m not a Warden?”

He smiled tightly in response. “And because I don’t know you.”

Shame wiggled around in my stomach. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m often...impulsive and nosy.”

“Nosy? Never would’ve guessed that.” His tone was light, teasing even, but I still felt the centers of my cheeks flush.

Glancing at the door, I decided it was time I do the smart thing and get my butt back to the house before I ended up saying something else that I shouldn’t. “I need to go.” I took a step back, feeling about ten kinds of awkward. “It was nice, um, clearing the air, and again, I’m sorry about last night.”

The smile loosened. “Does this mean you don’t hate me?”

I winced. “I said that last night, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

“I often say things I shouldn’t. You can add that to impulsive and nosy.”

He chuckled as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I’ll make sure I’ll add that to the glowing list of attributes.”

“You do that.” Taking a couple more steps backward, I said, “See you later, Zayne.”

I pivoted around and took a several more steps.

“Trinity.”

I stopped and closed my eyes. I had no idea what to do with the little shiver that curled its way through my core in response to the way he said my name. It was a strong reaction, but he spoke my name like he... Like he was tasting it.

“Yeah?” As if I had no control, I turned back to him.

He hadn’t moved, and I was once again too far to see his eyes clearly, but I felt his gaze, intense and heavy. My heart rate kicked up. “How did your mother die? Was it a demon? Or something natural?”

Every muscle in my body tensed, and part of me knew I shouldn’t answer truthfully, but the words rose to the tip of my tongue. A truth that was rarely given air.

“No,” I said. “It was a Warden.”