Tempest’s Fury (Jane True #5)

I couldn’t help but giggle, and he put his heavy arm around me drawing me close against him.

“So what’s the deal with those two?” I asked, as we headed down the small hallway towards the exit that led into the public areas of the museum.

“I don’t know exactly, but I know they’ve been a thing for a very long time. That says a lot about how much they like each other. Sarah’s been working in the Repository for nearly her entire adult life, and dating a doppelgänger is sorta off-putting for a lot of people.”

“It would definitely put a whole new spin on ‘self-love,’ ” I said, pushing open the doors at the end of the hallway, where we reentered that vast white space of the museum’s main inner courtyard.

“I guess Blondie’s been alive long enough that she can stare herself in the eye, even in the bedroom.”

“That’s deep, yo,” I said, tickling him in the ribs. He grabbed my offending hand and raised it to his lips, only to graze his teeth against my knuckles.

I definitely wheezed that time, and for once I couldn’t think of anything snarky to say in response.

We were also nearly to the main entrance, and the cool spring air and soft sunlight coming in was very inviting after so long spent in the climate-controlled environment of the museum.

Dragging Anyan forward, I suddenly really wanted to be outside, and looking around at London, a city I’d barely gotten to see. And I wanted to do it with the man at my side.

“Let’s go sightsee a little,” I said, turning around to walk backward as I pulled Anyan forward. “Just a teeny bit. We’ll tell Gog. We can be back in twenty minutes.

Instead of listening to me, Anyan was making a face. A face that didn’t bode well for my sightseeing idea.

“Where is Gog?” he asked, and I turned my head around, still walking backward and dragging him with me.

I looked around for the coblynau, hoping he hadn’t wandered off so we were stuck there. If we could just have twenty minutes…

But that thought was short lived. It died with the feel of a hood falling over my face and a stabbing little pinch in the back of neck. Suddenly unable to use my legs, I toppled backwards as someone very strong grabbed me from behind.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I don’t know what they’d given us to knock us out, but it was powerful. One minute a hood was thrust over my head, the next minute I was sitting, tied to a chair, and feeling very, very groggy.

“Jane?” came a voice next to me. It was muffled, but it was the barghest.

“I’m here,” I said. “Are you okay?” With every word I spoke, the stale air in my hood blew around my face. Being hooded isn’t nice, I realized. And neither is being tied to a chair.

“Are you naked?” I asked Anyan, my drug-addled brain supplying me with terrible images.

“What? No? Are you?” he asked, his tone harsh with worry.

“No, but the way we’re tied up, in chairs, made me think of that new James Bond. With that horrible ball-busting scene.”

There was silence beside me. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned ball-busting.

“Anyan?” I asked. Still no reply.

“Look, even if they bust your balls, I’ll still like you,” I said, helpfully. “I’ll totally help you recover,” I added, when he still didn’t reply.

“Will you please just stop talking about ball-busting,” Anyan said eventually, in the measured tones that told me I was theeees close to a spanking.

So of course I kept talking, my tongue fueled by nerves and loosened by whatever had knocked us out.

“If you have a seat bottom, I’m sure they’re not going to bust your balls. I think it has to have the seat removed, to work. Do you have a seat?” I asked.

I heard some heavy breaths, muffled by his hood.

“I have a seat bottom, yes,” he said, eventually.

“Oh, good. So do I. Phew!” I said. He didn’t reply. Maybe it was time to change the subject.

“So,” I said, “Who do you think are our kidnappers?”

“Why don’t you ask them?” Anyan said. “Since they’ve just come in to sit in front of us.”

Oops, I thought, closing my mouth with an audible clink of my teeth. Anyan’s heavy breathing hadn’t just been because he wanted to throttle me. He’d been trying to smell through the hood.

“Very good, Anyan Barghest,” said a man’s voice in front of me. “And do you know who I am?”

“Of course I do, Jack. So how about you stop this charade?” Anyan’s voice was low, menacing.

“Phil,” said Jack’s voice, in clear command.

Suddenly, the hood was whisked off my head and I sat, blinking in the dim light. When my eyes finally adjusted, I looked around, observing that we seemed to be in some sort of empty warehouse with concrete floors and very high ceilings. Looking to my left, I checked to make sure Anyan had also had his hood removed. We both looked each other over carefully, assessing any possible damage, then turned to face forward towards our kidnapper. I knew there were people shuffling around behind us, but the man in front was clearly in charge. Plus I was tied up in such a way that turning around would have been difficult.

Jack wasn’t that big, but he was lean and looked tough. His tousled blonde hair spoke of a boyishness that did not match the wry twist of his sharp features, or his cynical, probing blue eyes. Despite his small size and casual demeanor, he also radiated an air of menace, as if he’d do just about anything to anyone under the right circumstances.

I hoped these weren’t the right circumstances.

“Jack Young,” Anyan growled. “Why have you kidnapped us?”

Startled, I realized from the full human name that the man in front of us was most probably a halfling. Full supes only used one name and their faction to identify themselves, which was why I was Jane True and Anyan was Anyan Barghest.

The man gave us a feral smile, and, for a second, fire licked over his arms. But it wasn’t flame-fire; it was a strange, magical looking blue fire. Either that or it was so hot it burned blue.

This was the exact sort of situation under which I didn’t enjoy, so much, meeting new supernaturals.

“I should be the one asking questions, barghest,” Jack said. His tone managed to be entirely nonchalant and entirely full of threat, all at the same time. “After all, you’re on my turf.”

“You don’t own London, despite what you think,” said Anyan.

“Maybe not,” Jack replied. “But I own the dark heart of London. The dark heart that you’ve been scuttling across since you arrived. Now, I’m asking you nicely, why are you here?”

“Nothing that involves you, or your so-called cause. Let us go.”

Jack pursed his lips, looking between Anyan and me. “Let you go? Maybe I will let you go. And maybe I’ll keep the girl.”

Anyan actually growled at that, but I rolled my eyes. Something about the way Jack bantered with Anyan let me know he wasn’t going to hurt us. Enough people had tried to kill me, after all, that I knew murderous intent.

I also realized I really wasn’t happy about being kidnapped.

“Thanks, but no thanks. This lady is not for keeping.”

Jack actually smiled at that. “And who exactly is this lady?” he asked, placing the same emphasis on the word that I had.

“My name is Jane,” I said, leaning as far back in my chair as I could to effect an air of casual disregard. “And you’re Jack. There’s a nursery rhyme there somewhere.”

“And what are you doing here, Jane?” Jack was watching me with appraising eyes. He’d probably assumed I’d be a gibbering wreck by now, but he didn’t realize that being abducted had become almost a hobby for me.

“I’m a tourist. I’m sightseeing. And what is it you do, Jack, when you’re not abducting innocent tourists?”

Jack looked slightly less amused with me as he answered.

“I’m a simple businessman with strong ties to my community.”

Anyan snorted as I asked, “What community?”

“The halfling community. Which I think is probably our community, is it not, Jane True?”

I hadn’t given him my last name. Uh-oh. Jack paced towards me, his gait like that of a lion. I have to admit, if he didn’t radiate brutality I’d have been attracted to him.

I’m attracted to him because he does radiate brutality, cooed my libido.

Shut up, you idiot, chastised my virtue.

I, myself, stayed mum.

Kneeling before me, Jack put his hands on my knees. I grew distinctly uncomfortable, not least because I was reminded of Conleth, the crazy ifrit-halfling who’d also kidnapped me and also tied me up.

“Between us,” Jack murmured, his blue eyes spearing my own black gaze, “I represent halfling interests, both officially as well as, well, let’s just say unofficially. For that I’m called a rebel. But I like to think of myself as a patriot.”

And with those words he lit himself up like a blue Roman candle. On the one hand, it was an impressive sight. On the other hand, it was definitely the wrong move to make with me.