36. Jen

36

Jen

T here was endless blackness, like some great void given breath. It exhaled, and the worlds seemed to crumble like ash in its wake. All within a jagged peak that looked as though it had been hewn from a single slice of obsidian.

Jen woke up calling out, "Tonight!" and clutching a tangle of sheets to her chest, coughing wildly as the blistering heat in her lungs finally expelled, replaced by the cool New York morning air.

Troy was, as they always seemed to be, awake already. They pinned her with their dark eyes, a frown twisting those lovely lips. "You had another vision? I smell smoke about you. It wasn't there a moment ago."

Still coughing, Jen swung her legs off the bed and rose, not minding her nakedness nearly so much as she would have even a month before. Troy liked sleeping in the nude.

Well, they liked her to. Sometimes she was half-convinced they had no need of slumber. "Another vision," she confirmed, voice hoarse. "I'll be right back."

She stumbled to the bathroom, a much smaller affair than what had been in the penthouse but still more than serviceable. Jen performed her morning ritual before splashing water on her face, then brushing her teeth. Twice. She could still taste the bitter smoke, and wondered how much of what coated the inside of her mouth was the burned remnants of people.

It felt oily. Tasted foul. She could still smell it even after two helpings of mint toothpaste.

Breathing shallowly through her mouth, Jen went back to the bedroom and ran smack into Troy standing on the other side. "Fucking hell," she swore. "Are you serious?"

"I'm worried about you," they said, cupping her elbow and waist, holding her tight enough she was in no danger of tripping backward. "You said the word, tonight . What did you see?"

"The park," Jen said, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palm before smacking it to their chest. Today they were wearing a soft forest green t-shirt and dark colored joggers. She appreciated the view. "I saw Central Park. Something appeared there. A mountain, like a tower stretching taller than any of the skyscrapers in the city. And in it, there was nothing but—" she swallowed. "It was like hell. Screaming. Violence. And the smell?"

"I can smell it on you," they said. "Like boiling blood and fat, like?—"

"Stop, please," she gasped, but it was too late. Her stomach gave a massive warning lurch.

Jen pushed from Troy's grip and they released her just before she flew back into the bathroom and lost last night's dinner in the toilet.

She retched several times, expelling nothing near the end but still overcome with the need, eyes streaming with tears her lover helped gently wipe from her cheeks. "That was gross," she groaned. "And this is bad, isn't it?"

"I didn't want you to be here," they gently chided, helping her to a stand before flushing the toilet for her. "But it may be you're the piece that keeps this from collapsing. I don't know. You remember what Lydia said, before the vampire?"

Jen rinsed her mouth at the sink, spitting into it before answering, bent over and not looking at them. "She said you died every time she saw you."

"But you and I weren't together," Troy said, sounding smug. "I succeeded this time."

Looking at the reflection of them in the mirror, Jen could not say why any of her previous iterations would have denied them in any way. Troy had hardly needed to say a thing before she was dragging them back to her tent in that refugee camp. They had talked and fucked most of the night, but she had not realized just how much that would change things.

She had slept with other people before, mostly women but some outside a defined gender. Like Troy. There had been a sprinkling of men, too, back in college before she figured that was more a biological urge she had no intention of satisfying.

Yet, at no time in Jen's long history could she have imagined ever beholding this elf and not practically pouncing on them the moment they showed the slightest splinter of interest. Troy was everything she had ever wanted in a partner, and they were perfect for her.

Mostly perfect.

"Don't keep looking at me like that, lover, or I'll have you back on that bed in a second," they warned, snapping their teeth at her.

Jen smiled back and smeared her toothbrush with another serving of paste before going to work again. Troy stayed and watched, their long arms crossed over their chest and their dark gaze never leaving her. She ignored them.

She could have done without the overbearing protectiveness. It was sweet, in some respects, but over time it had better ease, or they were going to start having issues.

When she bent to finish rinsing, a heated hand caressed her hip, an appreciative rumble coming behind her as they explored the curve to be found there.

"I need to put some clothes on," Jen said, starting to move passed them.

They stopped her, mouth coming down on the juncture of her shoulder and neck, their sharp canines grazing her flesh. "Stay for a moment." They cupped one of her breasts, and another hand snaked around her middle, teasing lower. "Five minutes."

"You say that," she said, voice breathless already. Only a promise, and she was a puddle. "But I know you. You take your time."

"I don't want to face this without being with you again," they said, grip tightening everywhere. Their gaze lifted to hers in the mirror. "Once more, love."

Just in case they die, she wanted to finish for them, but a rising anger swept the melancholy aside.

"You are not going to die," she said, words fierce. "I forbid it. You're not allowed."

In response, they growled and bent her over the vanity, no longer gentle, no longer asking. Taking, and she gave. Jen gave, not caring her cries echoed in the small bathroom and no one nearby would be ignorant to these activities. They brought her to climax several times before their own end roared through them, and they went utterly still.

Panting, she gently disentangled them with soft kisses and murmurs of love and affection. Slowly, they unwound their long limbs from hers and set her gently upon her feet. She wobbled a little, grinning. "That's not the last time."

"No," they agreed, their eyes still lust-filled. "I don't want to stop until you beg me to."

"That will never happen," she sang, sauntering away with a little wiggle to her hips.

There was an answering growl and before she could make it to her suitcase she was snatched up and tossed on the bed. She squealed, then laughed as she hit the mattress with a soft bounce. "What are you doing?"

"Not the last time," they said, echoing her earlier words, and took her again.

By the time they had finished, it had been at least fifteen minutes from their promised five, and Jen was panting, her heart still pounding, but the still-fresh memories of the dream were crowding her inner vision, and she could not shake them. She had to find Maeve.

Sliding to wobbling feet, she ignored Troy's murmurs to get back here, woman. She snatched an outfit from her suitcase and bolted to the bathroom, not bothering with a lock as they could probably whisper to the wood to make it slide the bolt back. Or melt the metal. She had no idea what their full capabilities were. All things born of the earth , they had said to her once. That is what calls to a Songweaver.

Jen dressed in a pair of black yoga pants and a tank top, socks and sneakers. She had the feeling she needed to be able to move freely.

Troy had thrown on a pair of pants by the time she reemerged to the bedroom, their chest bare and delicious enough to make her mouth water. Gods, she loved them. Wanted them with every fiber of her being.

"Stop looking at me like that," they warned.

She rolled her eyes but cast her gaze away, heading to the door instead. "I need to find Maeve. She has to know."

"I'll come with you."

"Finish getting dressed," she called over her shoulder as she breezed through the doorway.

There was a murmur of conversation coming from the stairwell, and Jen hurried toward it, listening to find the voices were drifting from below. She followed, Troy hot on her heels a moment later still pulling a shirt over their head and snarling gentle admonishments.

Maeve and Rodan were partly in the hall on the second story, wrapped in each other's arms. They looked as though they had just recently awoken, even though Jen could not recall a single time, even after coming back from Tartarus, in which Rodan's hair was anything but perfect.

Jen stopped just before them. "I had another vision," she said without preamble, drawing their attention from whomever else they were speaking with. "It's going to happen tonight."

Maeve blinked at her, then pulled from Rodan. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and Jen could see the signs of weeping upon her. Without thinking, she pulled her friend in for a hug, and Maeve clutched her back. "What else did you see?" she asked, then whispered, "Thank you."

Jen waited until her friend made to pull away before releasing her. They clasped hands, and Jen told her everything she had seen, smelled, and felt. The terror, more than anything, stayed with her even now, even through two lovemaking sessions. It was, on its own, enough to make her aware that tonight was it. The sense of urgency was growing.

"You speak of Ninack's palace, his mountain fortress," Ankou said, coming up from behind Rodan. Jen jumped at his voice, her fingers squeezing around Maeve's. "That is the thing you saw, I am sure." He smiled at her. "Good morrow, Jennifer Casper."

"Hello," she said weakly.

Ankou turned his attention to Rodan. "You saw my home. The great tree. Rizor and Tegal have their own structures. We are not supposed to bring them to any world."

Jen let go of Maeve and went to Troy, letting them pull her close, her back to their front and their arms draped lazily across her. It was comfortable, being held like this. "What do we do?" she asked. "When it comes?"

Looking between them all, Ankou said, "Let us assemble. I miss the priestess, and Lydia should be part of these discussions. The time to act is coming on swift wings, but we will be ill prepared if we plan in scattershot."

Maeve nodded. "I'll wake the others. We should meet downstairs, there's a table large enough for all of us."

Jen had only caught a quick glimpse of the formal dining room, but she nodded her agreement. "Do you need any help knocking on doors?"

Maeve's brow furrowed, then she laughed a little. "I already sent out the wake-up message. They're stirring as we speak."

Shaking her head, Jen muttered, "Fairy magic bullshit."

Ankou barked a laugh, and Rodan said seriously, "We are Fae, not fairies."

"They bite," Maeve said, waggling her eyebrows. "Let's go."