Týr grinned, scratching his chest. “I’ll pass. Still think the Empyrean’s making a mistake keeping her out of the loop.”
“Would you send your mate into a malevolent trap?” Blaéz lowered his sword. “Not knowing what lurks on the other side of the veils?”
Týr paused, then shrugged. “A moot point. I have no plans to tie myself to a female. But no.” He picked up the other katana and sauntered back to the center. “Now, let’s get this dance on the road.”
Blaéz circled him. “Given any more thoughts to the rainbow?”
Týr scowled. “Forget it, just becauseshechanges color, it means nothing—has nothing to do with me. As usual, your mind’s screwed up from tearing into those dead fuckers’ heads.”
A year ago, Blaéz had seen Týr in a vision, swamped in a black cloud and fighting. In that ominous storm, a rainbow had flickered. Blaéz hadn’t known what it meant until he’d met Echo’s best friend. Kira Smith, with her ever-changing hair color. Indeed, the female possessed that frivolous ability and was a thorn in Týr’s usually thick hide. The fact that they seemed to hate each other’s guts mattered little. Blaéz knew his premonitions never revealed false information. Paths could deviate, sure. But lie? No.
“If you say so.”
“Celt, don’t make me kick your ass.”
Blaéz smirked.
Týr came at him, his sword arching dangerously. Blaéz deflected, but with a slight off-counter strike, and a deep slash marred his chest. Blood welled as pain flowed. He ignored it, couldn’t make this too easy or Týr would walk.
As time passed, the cuts he collected just made him bleed. He needed more. Wanted true pain. Needed the bone-crushing agony to ground him. The cage fights only ran at night. If only he could find one that ran twenty-four seven.
He lifted a hand, calling a halt. “I’m done.”
Týr’s weapon froze in midair. “You—you’re calling off training?”
“Hardly. Just rescheduling for later.” He dropped his sword back in the stand and headed for the shower.
* * *
The day moved in a trickle for Darci after that bewildering silent call from Blaéz. Her stomach twisted uneasily. She couldn’t shake off the feeling that something else was going on with him.
She checked on Maria, who’d taken over story hour for the preschoolers after Wendy had left. At the kids’ rapt attention, Darci left the junior section of the library and made her way to the front, passing the tables occupied with teens pouring over open volumes of reference books, while a few older regulars were buried in whatever books had grabbed their attention.
“Maria settled in with the kids?” Irina asked, logging in returned books. “She didn’t collapse from an over-abundance of love?”
Darci laughed at their colleague’s fear of climbing kids. Faced with the long queue there, she moved around the counter to help with returns. “I knew she’d like it once she gave it a try—” She glanced up and saw her favorite patron. “Hello, Mrs. Jones, did you enjoy the book?” she asked the tiny woman stepping toward her.
A beam crinkled the spry old lady’s pale face. Edna Jones had an appetite for sweeping tales. “Darci, my dear,Clan of the Cave Bearsyou recommended is phenomenal. It pulled me right in from the first page. I want the next one. And book the series for me, would you, dear?”
“Will do—”
“Hey, you.” A melodious voice called out. “You’re a display for broken eyes.”
At the butchered phrase, Darci looked up and smiled. As usual, her friend’s flamboyant entrance had heads turning. An inch taller than Darci, Evernora wore a black tank top and tights beneath a loose, crocheted turquoise tunic belted low on her hips. Her favorite battered black Doc Martens on her feet.
“Sight for sore eyes,” Darci corrected.
“I like her version better,” Mrs. Jones said. With a little wave, she took the new books Darci handed her and wandered off.
Grinning, Nora reached over the counter and hugged Darci. “It is good to be back.”
Nora’s English was great and her Hungarian accent barely noticeable. Well, except for the phrases, which for some reason she could never get straight, and, of course, wicked innuendoes.
They’d met almost a year ago in front of the library where they’d waited for the rain to ease. It had been Nora’s first visit to the states. And an easy rapport had formed between them.
The fact the girl liked to read had cemented the friendship. Her friend was the polar opposite of her. Where Darci was careful—not counting that mind-churning kiss with Blaéz, Nora lived life to the fullest, dating any guy that caught her interest. Her dark brown eyes smoldered in her olive skin and darted about as if not to miss a thing.
But her beautiful hair! Nora’s once waist-length ebony mane now brushed her shoulders, but she’d kept the green streaks in her over-long, wispy bangs.
