"Where can you promise me safety?" He asked. He wasn't sure what tone he said it with, it seemed more like a mixture of hostility, curiosity, and downright exhaustion. Akavi tilted her head at him. Neither of them blinked for several long moments. Michael got the faint impression that she was listening for something.
"Anywhere but here," she said in a soft voice. Michael narrowed his eyes.
"I like it here."
"Then stay here." She shrugged lightly. "But this is not where they are." Michael scowled at her openly. She had a way of leading a conversation so that she always kept him asking for more. She never gave enough information without prompting. He didn't like it much, but he supposed it was part of her character, too deeply ingrained, not only for her to be aware of it, but also for her to free herself from it. It wasn't really that much of a hindrance, but it was kind of annoying.
Finally he sighed and asked, "Who?"
"Laurie's son and his family." Why had he not been expecting that? It shocked him that she was so well-informed. It shouldn't have. She was obviously very high on the Druid hierarchy. She knew more than she let on, and that was quite a lot. Not that he meant that as an insult. She acted very well-informed, but it was obvious she knew more than just what he assumed she knew.
But why was he justifying any of it? Why did he care if he insulted her? Because she had an edge on him, perhaps. He hated that.
"I'm not winning any points with you, am I?" Something about the way she said it gave it an insulting lilt. She guarded herself well.
"Why should you care?" He hadn't really expected himself to say this. The reaction he got wasn't expected either.
"I care where I stand with the most beloved of Thurisaz," said Akavi in a neutral tone. Then she laughed, and the sound of her laugh made him want to smile, and that made him angry, but he still couldn't help enjoying the sound of it. He couldn't stop himself from that.
He refused to give her the satisfaction of asking what she found so humorous. She refused to explain herself without him asking. Her sudden laughter went unquestioned and unanswered.
That deeply bothered Michael.
"The Arkinaz will come for you here," she said, breaking the lingering silence. "They'll come in force." Michael frowned. He didn't immediately respond. He was very powerful, both physically and telepathically, but he was far from stupid. Akavi was perhaps just as smart. It probably would have shocked her stricken if he'd said something typically masculine like "I can handle them." But he didn't. He didn't have an ego to nurture, and he didn't need one to make him feel masculine.
"Silvyn was relatively weak," was all he said. Akavi grinned, he could feel her do it as much as he saw it.
"Weak but ambitious, as are most of his clan. There are a few strong ones, but they've got their heads too far up their own asses to see how much the odds are against them." Something about the wording combined with Akavi's sarcastic tone made Michael want to grin. He was able to suppress that urge, though.
"Aren't you supposed to be unbiased?" He wondered, and for the first time, he let a slight mocking tone slip into his voice.
"This isn't my real job. I don't give a damn how I'm supposed to be acting. I'd kill off the Arkinaz without regrets if it was allowed, but it isn't. And to be honest, I don't like many of your Jerai, either. At least some of them are acceptable." Michael felt torn between agreeing with her and arguing with her. He felt a certain, disdainful loyalty for his clan, despite the fact that he didn't like them at all. Perhaps it was Thorn who made him feel so committed.
"Have you not finished Thorn's work yet?" Something darkened in Akavi's eyes. He wondered if she thought he was questioning her ability. He hadn't meant for that to happen, and he certainly wasn't one to talk, considering his incompetence with his own job, but he wasn't about to correct himself.
"I'll never be finished with Thurisaz. My first task, yes, it has long been complete. Now I am his Oracle." Michael tilted his head.
"Oracles are myth." He said it almost without thinking. Then he cursed himself. Since when had he ever spoken so brashly? But that wasn't the only thing he was cursing. Akavi's eyes narrowed. For a brief moment, she looked like she wanted to tear his eyes out. He wished he hadn't angered her. Then he cursed himself for wishing that. Then all thought stopped.
Akavi folded her legs beneath her and rose up on her knees in the roomy seat. She leaned over the armrests, placing one hand on the dashboard and one on his seat, and leaned forward until she was just inches away… Inches that seemed to stretch too far. Too far for him. He wanted her closer, but he dared not move to make it so. He wanted to touch her, but a part of his mind kept screaming at him to draw a knife, a dagger, any sort of sharp object that would get her away. But he didn't want her away. He didn't understand why that part of him was keeping him from closing the mere inch or so that separated them. Why it did it fight the lust he felt for this magnificent creature? And she hovered there, just far enough to taunt him. He could see the startling paleness of her gray eyes. Very intense eyes. He could feel the heat of her body, smell her intoxicating scent, and hear her heartbeat. She was moving closer, very very slowly.
"Am I a myth, Michael?" She whispered, finally breaking the suffocating silence. But the silence wasn't the only thing that was suffocating. He felt like he was drowning in lust, feral and delightful. How long had it been since he'd had a woman? Five years? Ten? He'd always found a willingness in them that he'd never been able to explain. Maybe Thurisaz had made it so, to keep him from losing what was left of his sanity – or his humanity.
Was Akavi feeling that allure that had made him so desirable to other women? Was she just teasing him for her own sake – for he didn't doubt she could be that cruel – or was her strong connection with Thorn making him twice as tempting, so that she literally couldn't escape it?
"You are a gift," he murmured with sudden clarity. She drew even closer, until a shallow breath could have caused them to touch. And then Akavi blinked. She looked like she was coming out of a daze, and Michael imagined he looked the same way. And he was screaming silently for her to fall back into the daze. But she wouldn't.
"I am no gift," she growled, leveling a glare at him that might have killed a weaker man. As it were, he fought hard to keep from flinching. The car seemed hazy with strong emotions, both hers and Michael's. It was like a thick perfume, and it made him almost drowsy. But Akavi's anger burned rapidly through the calm silence. Michael didn't think it wise to say anything, lest he provoke her. And he definitely didn't want to do that. He couldn't dream of destroying such an incredible potential mate, and he didn't want to think he could do it, but if she launched herself at him with harmful intentions, he doubted he'd be able to stop himself from killing her.
"Are you coming with me or not?" She snapped, falling back to business with a cool air. Michael nodded. "Then I'm driving." It was almost a command, and the first she'd given him. He felt shockingly inclined to follow her orders and not only did this anger him, it worried him as well. And he really didn't want to do it. Ego or no ego, he strongly disliked being bossed around by anybody.
But she was already out of the car, circling around the front again. For a brief instant, he entertained the idea of running her over, but it was quickly smothered. He grudgingly relinquished his seat, circled the car, and slid into the passenger side. It made him grumpy, that he felt like he was taking orders from her as if he were a puppy. But that was the punishment for telling her what he was thinking, wasn't it? Thurisaz had told him, in no uncertain terms, that she was meant as a gift for him.
She was the independent type. He could see why she took offense to being deigned as a 'gift' for someone, especially him. He didn't quite think that having Thurisaz hand her over to a maniacal sociopath like a belated Christmas present – "Oh yeah, this is for you." – was something Akavi really enjoyed.
He felt like kicking himself, and he hadn't felt like that in a long time. He shouldn't have said it. He should have just gone with his instinct and kissed her. Years of not speaking, and he finally decided to get talkative at exactly the wrong moment. Well done.
While he was deeply engrossed in his self-berating, Michael's mind drifted from the outside world. He receded into himself to sort out his thoughts, and he lost track of what road they were on, then what town they were in, then what time it was, since darkness had descended. Then he ceased to care.
Akavi stayed silent and irritable. Michael didn't bother her. He did, however, often catch himself staring. Every time they passed a streetlight, and the eerie blue or rusty orange glow filled the car's interior, Michael's gaze flicked to Akavi. Gradually, her frown lessened. By that time, either she'd managed to accept his words, or convince herself he'd been lying. He hoped it wasn't the latter.
"Where are we going?" He finally asked, hours later, after the tension had finally eased to almost nothing. He felt a certain loss at having been forced to ask this question, but anxiety had made him impatient. His thoughts had moved back to the outer world.
"To Cavalier," she replied. Her answer was short, but her tone made it clear she did not mean to be offensive. She was simply answering.
"What is in Cavalier?"
"A lot of things, all bunched together like a big ball of irony."
"Care to explain that?" Akavi glanced at him, and a small smile crept over her lips. It gave Michael some satisfaction in seeing that.
"Your nephew lives there. So do the leaders of both the Arkinaz and the Jerai clans, and the Druid Council." Michael raised his eyebrows at her. That was most definitely irony, though he could just as easily have thought it to be one of those 'preordained' types of things.
"We're being followed," he murmured. His eyes had been tracking the sleek black car behind them for several minutes. Something in the way they drove made his suspicion rise.
"They're mine," she replied. He tilted his head at her. "My companions."
"Or bodyguards," he suggested.
"They're much more to me than that." Something in the way she said this made Michael narrow his eyes. He didn't like how she spoke of her two very handsome, very male friends. Then he stopped, and he almost laughed at himself. Was he getting possessive? Of all the crazy things, Michael Myers was now jealous of two unknown strangers, jealous of competition for a woman he'd known for less than a week.
Would he have to fight them for her? Was he willing to do that? The answer to this was more complicated than usual, because in saying that he'd fight for her, that meant that he was willing to take harm for her, something that bordered too closely on valiance for him to seriously consider. But to say that he wouldn't fight for her, if it ever came to fighting, was to say that he didn't want her.
And he really, really wanted her.
Michael shifted impatiently. When had he gotten so fucking impatient? He'd spent years staring at walls, completely immersed in his own mind, and never fidgeted so much as once. But now, he found it hard to sit still for more than an hour. It unnerved him greatly that being so close to Akavi took so much of his concentration away.
His thoughts fell on his nephew, his pain-in-the-ass sister's son.
"I'll kill them tonight," he decided aloud, keeping his voice low and unobtrusive. Akavi shrugged.
"Do what you will," she said evenly. For some reason, despite the fact that he had no cause to believe so, he sensed that she wasn't happy with his decision.
"You disapprove?" He wondered mildly, keeping his temper very carefully in check. For some reason, the prospect of her disapproval irked him more than his being disapproved of.
"I am tired," she replied.
"You didn't answer my question," he pressed softly. Akavi sighed.
"Yes," she said. "I disapprove because it will attract unwanted attention. We don't need that, not with the prospect of a full clan war hanging over our heads already." Michael stared at her.
"You want me to not kill them?" He demanded.
"Of course not," Akavi snapped. "But you could use some subtlety." Michael fought back the urge to tell her not to give him advice on how to murder, and instead, he crossed his arms.
"The way I do it gets the job done," he muttered.
"The way you do it pumps your victims full of adrenaline and ups their chances of getting away, or retaliating," a memory flashed through Michael's mind of hanging by his wrists, suspended from electrical wire, in a pool of blood, surrounded by a roaring fire. He shut his eyes. "The way I do it, they don't realize it's being done, and they don't know I'm the enemy, and they never get the chance to run away."
"I couldn't do it your way," said Michael, as if he were stating a simple fact.
"You could learn from my way." Michael fought the urge to argue with her just for the sake of putting up a fight. He felt like a pushover, and that wasn't something he was used to. Akavi had a knife in his mind, twisting and turning it to drive him to the brink of insanity. She was being manipulative, assertive.
Or maybe she was just being a woman.
"If you want me to wait, I will," he finally said, with difficulty that was plainly obvious in his voice. Akavi smirked.
"That's almost too considerate of you for me to take seriously," she said with a chuckle. Michael glared at her. This had the exact opposite effect, and she started laughing. He was, once again, torn between two actions: throwing her out of the speeding car, and crawling on top of her and devouring her.
He settled for doing neither.
"You are human, Michael, no matter how much you don't want to be," said Akavi with a seriousness that completely caught him off guard. His scowl faltered, returning almost automatically to that expression of calm blankness. He'd lived in that expression for almost half a century. It hadn't failed him yet.
"You don't like how much I know about you," she murmured. Michael didn't bother nodding. "Haven't you wondered why I know so much?"
"Yes."
"But you're not going to ask me why." It wasn't a question.
"No." Akavi glanced at him and smirked. Michael kept his blank expression, and he was proud of being able to do so.
"Very well," he wondered for a brief instant if she was going to play stubborn and just not tell him, but then she continued: "It's Thurisaz. Through it, we share a… bond, of sorts, stronger than most human mates share." Michael let a small flame of excitement well up in him, enjoying the simple feeling before he smothered it completely. "It happens with all of us, and it's not just one-way." She sent him a pointed look. "I'm sure you could evaluate me just as easily as I've evaluated you, if you cared to try."
"I don't," he said, before he could let himself register any meaning deeper than the simple words she'd spoken. Akavi didn't seem ruffled. She looked like she'd expected it, even.
"Then you're missing out," she had a grin in her voice that she didn't let manifest on her lips. Something about the way she said it made Michael think of a world of unexplored possibilities. She was straightforward, this one, but to a very tasteful degree. She wasn't about to up and offer him anything. She wanted to play first.
It had been a while since he'd been in the game, but that wasn't about to stop him. In fact, he hungered for it.
"Perhaps I'm just biding my time," he murmured in reply. He could feel Akavi's eyes on him, but he continued to stare out the window. Maybe he didn't want to see what was concealed in that gaze. It had been too long. He'd never felt so vulnerable. He stayed silent.
"Perhaps you're afraid." The instant she said it, they both knew it was a mistake, but Akavi refused to show fear. She went back to staring at the road, as every muscle in Michael's body tensed. The hatred he'd shoved to the back of his mind swelled again, taking priority. He wanted to kill her, no question about that, but he wanted to do more than just kill her; he wanted her to suffer. It wasn't a small urge, it was almost overwhelming.
This time, instead of that little voice in his head screaming for him to attack her, it was screaming at him to get away. Far away, in case he did permanent damage. As he glared at Akavi, he could see that she was tense as well, on the defensive, waiting for an attack almost as if she expected it. As she should; his anger filled the car with hate and warmth. She would have been a fool not to sense it.
As he glared at her, he knew that her insult wasn't going to fade. He wasn't going to forgive her for it, and the longer he stayed near her, the more he wanted to cause her intense, unimaginable pain. And the more he thought about that, the more he wanted to get away to avoid causing her said pain.
Without warning, Michael unlocked his door, grabbed the handle, and shoved the car door open as far as it would go. Akavi cursed loudly and swerved as a blast of wind roared in through the doorway. She turned her gaze to Michael at the same time he jumped out of the car, flying through the air to land on solid concrete at seventy-three miles per hour.