Argh! My books! I wail in my head, but fortunately Drake sends a flurry of ice at Her, dousing it. Fuck me. I can feel Cole trembling behind me and CK has gone deathly still. If Lincoln Wolfs out now in agitation, we are so dead.
The fight continues between the two of them, throwing magick at each other, but deflecting it each time. I knew Drake was Powerful, but I didn’t know he was as Powerful as Tiamat. It should come as no surprise really, as the Faerie managed to stave off the Dragons eons ago. Interesting bit of history there, though, that my great grandparents started the war that divided them. Lost in my scattered thoughts, I hadn’t noticed Tiamat edging closer to me and I know that if she gets Her hands on me, I will be taken to the Dragon Realms where no one can reach me, to “prepare” myself. Drake notices it too and he sends a blast of ice lightning at Her that pushes Her back several feet. “Not a chance, Tia,” he says, as he sidles up in front of me. “You aren’t taking her.”
The magick gets put away then and I peek out around the huge bulk of my father to see my mother brushing off Her hands and placing them on Her hips. She clears Her throat and says, “The Faerie will never get her first born, Drake. I will win this fight; I have already taken steps. Mark my words, she is mine.” She Astrals off, thankfully without me, and Drake turns to me, grabbing my arms. He crushes me and I start to cry again as I remember my mother’s harsh words.
“Does She really think all that about me?” I sniffle to the room and no one answers. “Am I really just a means to an end for Her?” I am absolutely torn up. My whole existence has been put into question in black and white, and no one has any answers for me.
Not surprisingly, Cole speaks first. He takes me out of Drake’s arms and holds me close, stiffly, but close. “Pay Her no mind,” he says. “But is it really so bad to have a child that we have to have fights over it in the library?”
I pull away from him and turn my back. Yes, it is so bad.
“That’s not the question here, boy,” Drake says. “She will have a child; the question is whose will it be?”
“Mine,” Cole says forcefully. “I am her Chosen One. Not Sebastian,” he adds and then shuts it as Drake glares down at him.
“We’ll see,” he growls, and he too flits off into the night.
Does no one ever say “goodbye” around here? Why does everyone have to make such dramatic exits for fuck’s sake?
“I need to be alone,” I say and without waiting for an answer, I make a dramatic exit of my own to the clearing in the woods. It is dark, cold, and damp, and suits my mood perfectly. I half expect CK to join me, but he doesn’t. I am not sure if I am happy about that or not. One thing is for sure, he is going to have words with me. But it seems that I have run from my fate for as long as I can. I am nearing the finishing line and it leads to a forked path: Dragons or Faeries? Oh, why me? Why am I so damned special that I got lumbered with this? All I wanted was to marry Cole and to live happy ever after as a normal Vampire. No such luck. I must decide, about Devon as well now and how he will fit into all of…this. But first I need more answers. What did Tiamat mean about my first born? Is that the one that will be all Powerful? Not any others I might have, no matter with whom? So how has that worked out in Empress Aefre’s World, where Cassis is Constantine’s daughter and she is now up the duff with Sebastian’s baby? Who knows? All I know is that puts a lot of pressure on me and it is something I could really do without. Not to mention Cole’s sudden desire to have a child is unnerving. He is definitely on Tiamat’s side with this, that is plain and that makes me very unhappy. As I sit and have these thoughts and questions flowing around my head another unpleasant reminder jumps out at me: Other Fraser’s letter is still sitting in the bottom drawer of my desk. I have no idea what to do about that, either. Now that I have remembered, it pushes all the other problems to the side momentarily. If I am going to start getting my ducks in a row, this particular one needs shutting down. I stand up and make a rash and very quick decision, but I want it dealt with now. I close my eyes and picture Other Liv’s house, exactly like this one, just on a different plane. I open my eyes and I am in the library. Definitely not my library. All the furniture is placed differently, and Other Liv is
glaring at me from behind her desk.
“What do you want?” she asks rudely.
“Nice to see you too,” I reply. I saunter over and remain standing just to piss her off. It works and she stands up to maintain the balance of Power.
“You are better then?” she asks.
“Yes, thank you. Your suggestion worked wonders. Dragon magick?” I ask to confirm my suspicion.
She nods briefly and says, “What are you doing here?”
“I need to speak to your Fraser,” I say. “Is he here?”
“You read his letter then?” she says, tapping her long, pointed nail on her chin. “Are you going to take him up on his offer? I’d like a heads-up if I am going to lose my charge to you.”
Her voice is completely steady, but her eyes betray her very serious emotions over this. It stuns me. I have seen little snippets of her feelings, but this is off the charts. Her eyes are glassy with unshed tears.
“That is between me and Fraser,” I say.
“I see,” she says and sits down again. “He is upstairs in the room on the opposite end of the hallway to mine.”
“Thank you,” I say and turn on my heel.
As I reach the door she adds quietly, “I didn’t think you’d come.”
I pause for a moment, but let it go. I have no intention of taking her charge from her. I want my own Fraser and as soon as all of this baby business is out of the way, I am going to get him. However, I want her to be upset and wondering what I will do. Call me petty, but I really don’t like her.
I make my way quickly up the stairs before I change my mind and hightail it out of there. I stop outside of his door and hesitate. Bunching my hand into a fist, I rap sharply and wait.
He opens it with a hooded look that turns to surprise when he sees me. He hides it quickly and leans casually against the doorframe with his arms crossed. He looks amazing, I think traitorously. His short black hair is damp from a shower, he is dressed in black jeans and a black vest and bare feet. It is a far cry from the last time I saw my own Fraser in a Highland kilt with long, braided black hair and a sword that could cleave a man’s head from his shoulders.
“You read my letter?” he asks, with his soft Scottish lilt.
“Yes,” I say. “May I come in?”
He steps back and allows me entry and I am probably being stupid walking into the shark’s tank but make myself do it anyway.