Shadow's End (Elder Races, #9)(60)

Absolutely, he told her.

As they turned a corner, they walked out of sight of their stalker. Graydon plummeted. He landed beside Bel and let his own cloaking spell fall away.

At the same moment, she said to Linwe, “Run.”

Giving him one spooked glance, Linwe darted toward the nearby restaurants and taxis. He noted in satisfaction that she was a fast sprinter. Despite the snow and ice, she flew surefooted down the sidewalk.

As Linwe raced away, Bel leaped onto his back.

At long last, the space between his shoulders, that spot which had been empty for so long, felt complete again.

Hold on, he said.

Cloaking himself again, he launched and drove into the air as high and fast as he could. Wheeling, he flew back the way they had come.

Below, on the street, the Elven guard raced around the corner. After looking around, he sprinted toward the restaurants and the taxi rank.

“Linwe got away!” Bel said. “Even if he gets a taxi too, all they need is a head start of a few moments, and she’ll lose him.”

Good enough, the gryphon growled. Feel free to praise me for not killing the guard. He felt rather than heard the soft laugh that rippled through her body. She stroked the back of the gryphon’s neck. “You did such an excellent job,” she told him. “Thank you for restraining yourself.”

It was not easy, he told her, even as the pleasure of her touch rippled down his body. I’m feeling particularly growly and predatory right now.

“With good reason,” she said. The smile had died from her voice.

Everything will be okay, he told her.

He willed that he was right, with every ounce of strength he had inside him. He would make sure that it was okay.

If he was only strong enough, fast enough, smart enough.

If he could hold the course, find the right actions to take, he knew they could win through, despite what the vision warned.

He would make it happen. He would.

In short order, they reached the hotel. After landing and shapeshifting, he put his hand to Bel’s back and walked with her through the revolving door.

He could tell she was working her subtle magic, deflecting others from noticing them, because despite their fast pace, and despite the fact that Graydon was well known in New York and Bel’s face was internationally famous, no one turned to look at them or remarked on their presence.

They made it through the lobby without fuss, and took the elevator up to the suite. As he knocked on the door, she stood beside him, to all appearances looking calm and composed, but he noticed how she twisted her hands together until the knuckles showed white.

He covered her hands with one of his and squeezed. Her large, dark gaze lifted to his, and she gave him a grateful smile.

This time, Luis answered the door. The younger Wyr nodded a greeting to Graydon, while his gaze lingered on Bel.

Almost imperceptibly, Luis’s expression lightened, and despite the fact that the younger Wyr had mated with another woman, and the fact that Bel was not Graydon’s, he felt a possessive snarl build at the back of his throat and an almost uncontrollable urge to get violent.

The impulse knocked him back into himself. He was getting perilously close to mating behavior again. He had to find some way to throttle back emotionally, but the only way he knew to do that was to have a complete cutoff from her—and after enduring the last two hundred years, he didn’t know if he could make himself do it again.

As Luis stood back from the door, Graydon let Bel enter first. When he stepped inside, the younger Wyr murmured, “You okay?”

He shot Luis a glance. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Luis was so perceptive. “Don’t worry about it.”

Bel lingered and glanced over her shoulder at them. Smoothly, Luis switched to telepathy. Does she know how you feel?

He sounded concerned. Graydon shook his head at the younger man.

It’s complicated, he said shortly. And how I feel is not the focal point right now.

Understood. Luis said aloud, “The living room is pretty crowded, but this was the best place we could think of to maintain privacy.”

Graydon followed Bel down the short hallway. The younger Wyr hadn’t exaggerated. Counting Luis, nine other people awaited them. A couple of opened bottles of wine sat on the coffee table, along with Diet Cokes, and several glasses.

Graydon took a quick sweep of the room. Claudia sat in a yoga position, cross-legged on the floor, her spine straight and posture relaxed. She looked like she could maintain the position all night if needed. Luis joined her, sprawling on the floor beside her.

Carling and Rune occupied one comfortable armchair. Rune lounged in the chair, while Carling perched on one arm and draped her shapely torso along the back, curling around his shoulders like a cat.

Slightly disconnected from the others, Constantine stood by the window. He leaned against the wall in a casual pose, arms crossed and one ankle kicked over the other. His posture was relaxed, but his sharp, curious gaze took in everything.

Julian sat at one end of the large couch, while Melly sat on the floor at his feet and leaned against his legs.

There was another couple present, which came as a surprise to Graydon. Bel responded to a flurry of greetings as Graydon frowned at the new, unexpected pair. A human woman sat at the other end of the couch. She was young, with pretty features and strawberry blond hair.

Graydon recognized her easily. She was Grace Andreas, the most recent in a long line of Oracles that led back to ancient Greece. Standing beside her, arms crossed, stood a tall, imperious-looking Djinn male with raven hair, white skin and diamondlike eyes.