"Listen, I'm sorry for getting us out of there so quickly. But considering what that asshole said, we're both probably better off at my place for now."
Rowan didn't bother to open her eyes. She wished desperately that she were asleep. Then she could at least pretend that none of this was happening.
"And you actually think we can hide from an obsessed dragon prince."
"That's the idea."
She opened her eyes to pin him with a glare. "In your apartment."
"Well. Yeah. You could say that." He had already sounded tired, and worried. Now she could add "cranky" to the list. It didn't do her frayed nerves much good.
They both fell silent again as Rowan watched the landscape roll by, ocean and beaches on one side, lush green hills on the other. Agitated though she was, it was impossible not to be touched by its raw beauty. Especially in the lovely quiet, where she could gather her thoughts and worries in peace. But after roughly five minutes had passed with only the soothing rumble of the car's engine for company, Gabriel, who she was beginning to understand had no appreciation for the absence of noise, tried again.
"So, ah, last night, after we ... you know, after you and I..." He trailed off, seeming uncertain about how to continue. Rowan shot him a sidelong glance, annoyed. She had seen into his mind. She knew full well that Gabriel had had his share of "fun" with a vast number of reasonably attractive and very willing females (though none, in her opinion, of much quality). If he was going to try to skirt around the reality of the far superior act he had experienced last night, well, she was having none of it.
"After we had mind-altering sex, you mean?" she asked placidly, then had to bite back a grin when Gabriel's ears turned distinctly pink. Chivalry, it seemed, was not truly dead here, though it was rather misplaced.
"Yes. That. Thanks." He paused a moment to collect himself, during which time Rowan gazed back out the window at the rolling and endless green of the scenery.
It had at least had the decency to be a cloudy day, which suited her mood just fine.
"Anyway, I couldn't sleep, so I went out for a bit." Rowan frowned at him, not liking that he'd left her and she hadn't noticed. She should have sensed it, should have awakened immediately. She had always noticed the smallest things, never having been a very deep sleeper. Last night, though, she'd slept as though she'd been drugged. Bliss was obviously as dangerous as it was restful.
"Out?"
"Yeah. You know. For a run. It helps clear my head, usually." He gave her a look that told her last night had created a lot of fog for him that needed clearing. It should have made her feel better about her own confusion, and in truth it did, in a way. But she never should have let it happen. He didn't need to feel what he was feeling.
Inwardly she cursed herself, even as the thought of Gabriel's lean, powerful body entwining with the power of the Wolf out in the night sent heat straight to her core. She had been born to become the most powerful of women. Why had the Goddess seen fit to make the yearnings of her heart so poisonous, and so impossible to refuse?
"And did it work?" she asked quietly, already knowing the answer.
"You know it didn't," he returned just as softly. "And that's something we're going to need to talk about. But I know you're just going to fight me on it right now," he continued, cutting her off neatly just as she opened her mouth. "So that can wait. Not long, but it can wait." He paused, as though considering, and Rowan's irritation at having been so easily read dissipated quickly to be replaced by a sinister little chill down her spine. There was something more. Something besides just Lucien's threats that had driven him so quickly from his Pack's home.
When he remained silent, she pressed. "Did you see something? Hear something? What?"
"Not so much saw. More like ... smelled."
She raised an eyebrow, puzzled. "Smelled?"
Gabriel took his eyes from the road to give her a pointed look. "There were things in the woods ... in MacInnes woods ... that didn't belong there last night, Rowan. I've never heard of them going anywhere near Pack territory before, but there was no mistaking it."
His words hit her along with a sick certainty. She hoped she was wrong. But she was fairly sure she wasn't. "Do you mean ... vampires? You think there were vampires in your woods last night?"
Gabriel nodded. "Not many. Two, maybe three. But even that's unheard of, that sort of intrusion. There's never been all-out war or anything, but our kinds don't mix. They never have."
"I did gather that," Rowan murmured, remembering the tone in which Gabriel had called her a "bloodsucker" on the night they met. Not, from what she had seen of actual vampires, that she particularly blamed him.
"It's not really the blood drinking," he rushed out. "I mean, I wouldn't want you to think that. You're not one of them, and none of the Pack would ever treat you like one." He looked concerned, and Rowan felt a bit of pleasure that he would seek to reassure her that he didn't hold her kind in the same contempt. When she gave a small nod, he continued. "It's the way they take it. The way they live. Twisted bastards. Ah, again, no reflection on other types of blood-drinking people. Creatures. Whatever." Gabriel stammered the last part out, then heaved a frustrated sigh and glared at the narrow road ahead. He seemed to think he'd mucked up his qualification. And he had, Rowan thought with a small smile. Hut it was kind of cute.
"No," she replied. "They're cruel. I saw plenty of it firsthand. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel some kinship with them, though." At Gabriel's obvious surprise, she nodded. "I do think there is some Dyadd blood in them, though weak in most. But there's so much more in them that's tainted. I wondered quite often while I lived in the nest whether they might not also be part daemon." She shuddered. "It's a nasty thought, but it makes sense. Especially considering your own kind managed to cross the barrier between our realms. Why not them?"
Gabriel glowered at the road ahead of him. "And a daemon would be what? Yet another kind of Drakkyn?"
He sounded so displeased by the notion that she had to laugh. "There are many different kinds, I'm afraid."
Gabriel grimaced. "Then God help us all."
"Oh, you just managed to meet some of the worst to begin with, that's all. And I'll remind you that you, too, fall into the general category."
Gabriel conceded the point by shifting in his seat, slouching down and muttering something unintelligible that sounded as though it contained more than one curse word. Since that was all she got, Rowan went on.
"In any case, daemon are allied closely with the dragons, though they occasionally spill one another's blood. They're foul things, talented with dark magic but fairly weak otherwise, and unable to walk in even the weakest sunlight. They burn up if they do. And with them it's less about drinking blood and more about inflicting pain."
"Sounds like you might be right, then. Not that it makes me feel any better about them wandering the Hunting Grounds." He shook his head, a lock of his hair falling across his eye. It took all of Rowan's willpower not to brush it back, and after a moment he did it himself.
"Is that what you call your woods?" she asked, trying to distract herself from the thought of running her fingers through his thick, soft hair. She had done it only last night. It already felt like forever ago. And in light of their current conversation, it seemed like touching Gabriel again might not be the best idea. Though she was disturbingly unsure whether she was truly going to be able to help herself.
Gabriel, at least, seemed blissfully unaware of her inner conflict. "Mmmhmm. Before there was ever a castle, there were the Hunting Grounds. It's where we contained ourselves, with a little help from the human branch of the MacInnes clan. To, ah, make sure we behaved. Bit of a rough start, but we do all right." His voice suddenly sharpened. "Oh, for the love of ... get out of the way, damn you!"
It took her a minute to figure out what he was shouting at, but when she did, Rowan burst into laughter. A large cow had wandered directly in front of the car and now stood stock still, gazing placidly at them and looking as if it had no intention of moving anytime soon. Gabriel laid on the horn, and the cow's expression clearly said, "You've got to be kidding me."
Gabriel threw up his hands and glared at the impassive bovine.
"Um. Does this happen often?" she asked, trying not to choke on the words.
"Often enough," he grumbled, still giving the cow a death look. "At least the sheep have the sense to move. Damned Highland cattle, though. I wonder if pushing it would work?" He turned his head, mouth curving a little at her expression. "What?" he asked, just daring her to tease him. "You think I can't move it?"
Rowan shrugged lightly, unable to help the smirk. "It's an interesting picture either way, but no, not exactly. I was remembering. My favorite stories about your kind were the ones where you were behaving the least." She chuckled. "Wrestling with an innocent cow might fall into that category."
Gabriel grinned then, and the way his sudden amusement lit up his face made her heart stutter in her chest, just a little. "There are stories about us?"
She kept her tone light, but it took effort. Gabriel was far too close to what she'd pictured for so many years. He was also, she thought irritably, far too beautiful for his own good. Or hers. "Yes. Most of them involving your kind tearing the clothing from your manly bodies and rushing off to dismember whoever had impugned a Dyim's honor. They were very romantic. And extremely bloody. I loved them as a child." The cow, possibly having heard Gabriel's threat to remove it bodily, meandered slowly from the road and back out to graze.
Rowan grinned at him. "Maybe the cow's heard the stories as well. It's obviously quaking in fear."
"You heard these stories as a child?" Gabriel asked, eyebrows raised incredulously. He sounded as though he thought that was more than slightly inappropriate. Rowan rolled her eyes. Humanity in general, she had noticed, could be decidedly prudish. She hoped it didn't rub off on her.