Chapter 12
Tamsin listened to Trick's side of the phone conversation with uncharacteristic patience and only allowed herself a questioning gaze as soon as the man finished the call.
"The necessary herbal component will be in town tomorrow, you'll send someone trusted to pick it up from the bus station," the Blood King instructed, "I'll cook the antidote soon enough. If my calculations are correct, we'll have just enough for two doses."
"Two?" the blonde's brows shot up in surprised relief, "That means I can afford an assistant."
"Or we can afford a trial run before we use the antidote on you, to make sure it works," the older fae amended judiciously, "It's your risk and your call, Tamsin. What do you need more? A helping hand inside or a certainty that you will not get enthralled on your mission? Or in the best-case scenario, both?"
The valkyrie's hesitation was short-lived. "I'm used to acting solo but if your magic is faulty, I'll be lost to the cause and forever a slave," she summed up her options, "So, a trial run, but that means we'll need someone to inject with an antidote, then set up for a Lauren injection and then we'll have to check the effect. That's a complicated prologue to our play and, possibly, one more good fae to lose."
"I told you there is a price to pay. A commander has to risk soldiers to win," the royal fae reminded her with a sad knowing smile and got practical, "So we need someone of roughly the same strength and the same age as you, someone who would be captured and not killed in the process, someone who Lauren is so happy to catch and enthrall asap that she won't be too suspicious or look too deep into the circumstances. And someone who, if the antidote proves its worth, will be a valuable assistant for you."
Tamsin felt a shiver of unease as it hit her just how much one particular fae of her close acquaintance fitted the description and her green eyes delved into the deep brown of the man who had been the all-powerful ruler of her kind when she was just a juvenile valkyrie with more ambition than experience.
"Anyone in mind?" she asked forcing indifference into her voice and felt her heart unclench after it had seemed to stop beating for a couple of seconds as the Blood King shook his head slowly. "I'll leave the choice to you," he replied, the same sad knowing smile curling his lip, "But think about someone whose loss would be still beneficial to our cause were we to lose him to the experiment."
Having quashed the itch to ask just what exactly Trick had meant with his last instructions, the valkyrie returned to her modest quarters after taking all precaution to check for a tail and uninvited visitors and feeling optimistic, exhausted and quite conflicted. The news that the Blood King had brought to her was promising – the antidote just the trick of the Trojan horse variety that could tip the scales in favour of the free fae, as they had come to call those still unenthralled by the genius human. She ran through the reasons for the guinea pig again, just to quell the subdued pangs of conscience that were still prickling her sensitivities.
"All and every fae at my side know the danger they court and will gladly risk their lives to rid our people of the tyrant," she announced to her scowling reflection in the bathroom mirror. "But are they ready to risk their minds and souls? Exactly what they are fighting so hard to save, even if at the cost of their lives?" the reflection threw back at her.
"I have to talk to Dyson about that, it doesn't have to be solely my decision, my burden," the blonde turned on the hot water and the mirror started to steam up, hiding the anguished worn-out woman behind the polished glass. "Yes, Dyson would not go amiss right now," she chucked to herself tossing her clothes off and getting into the filling tub, "Tams, dear, you're getting old and getting soft. Since then do you need anyone to make your decisions or make your time enjoyable?"
They found themselves on a bench in the park, deciding against public places by tacit agreement. Kenzi shivered as a cooling night wind swept around her tiny form and Dyson fought an urge to gather her into his arms and press her to his wolf-hot body. "Her frailty plays right into my protective instinct," he told himself sternly, keeping his arms pressed firmly to his sides, but had to be honest enough with himself to tack on a "who am I kidding?" when the image of enormous silvery eyes shining in the beautiful face and framed by the raven dark hair was pushed to the forefront of his mind.
"What are you doing at the doctor's house?" he started the ball rolling, choosing the medical title over some less favourable description carefully, not sure of his footing.
"I am living there," the girl answered simply, looking straight ahead at the pebbled path.
"You are human and you're not enthralled, yet you seem to be in the know about the fae and about the overhaul in the fae world," the wolf probed again.
"I am Lauren's sister and I can't be enthralled," Kenzi stated unemotionally, "and you can turn into a wolf who has been gunning to rip out my only family's throat for long enough."
"And yet you saved me," Dyson managed out once he got over the shock of her revelation that easily the Morrigan's recent interest in the human, "And then you looked for me."
"Every other creature she enslaves kills her a little bit more – I could prevent it and I did. Besides, I like animals," the girl shrugged her shoulders, "Later when I found your wallet I thought that I could find you and try and get you to reconsider your throat-ripping intentions regarding Lori."
Dyson hand clasped around the thin forearm and spun the girl halfway round to face him. Kenzi looked calmly at the bared elongated fangs and right into the blazing amber eyes with the same impassiveness she had treated the luckless Steve to.
"Not your brightest plan, human," the wolf snarled, "Lauren Lewis, your family or not, will pay for everything."
"Yes, she's done a lot," Kenzi admitted levelly, "she's killed and enslaved fae… Who killed her love and enslaved and used and humiliated her and … her sister." She gulped at the last words – the first sign of emotion she had allowed since she had left the bar.
The fangs retracted, the eyes reverted to their human blue as the shifter absorbed the truth in her words. "She has been mistreated by my kind," he slowly admitted but went no further with that, unable or unwilling to assess the value of one human's life and freedom against so many fae's.
"You are not afraid to die, are you?" the wolf's focus shifted to the girl still in his iron grip.
He slowly released her arm and the thought that his fingers might have left bruises on the tender pale skin made his hand fist up and press painfully against his half-healed side inside his jacket, a spike of pain giving him a perverse pleasure at this particular piece of his just desserts served to himself.
"Not like I have a lot to live for – nothing actually, apart from the slim chance that my only sister can still be saved, saved from herself as much as from you, vengeful fae guys," she said serenely and the question about the gravestone with a heart-wrenchingly short inscription was dangerously close to being asked but Dyson bit it back.
Once free of the wolf's paw, Kenzi felt cold again and couldn't help another shiver.
"Either we relocate to somewhere warmer or you take my jacket," the man growled at her side and the piece of garment slid over her shoulders.
"I don't expect you to know a decent human bar around here, so I'll take the jacket," the girl muttered snuggling into the fabric, still warm and smelling of his cologne.
"How are you planning to save the doctor?" he asked.
"Isaac Taft," she replied, "You were eavesdropping, you heard me talking of him. If one genius could come up with the way to start this mess, maybe another can come up with the way to unmess it. I've been storing whatever I could get my hands on – samples, research data. Maybe he can work on that and find an antidote."
"Why do you need me?" the wolf tried to catch her eye and wondered he sounded almost
"I don't think it's a solo mission and Dima is a moron," Kenzi explained, "I need help of both intellectual and physical variety and you seem to have both the muscle and the brain. Also, if we are to work together and I share what I have with you, I want you to ensure the fae won't kill Lauren. I want you to promise you will help her escape their wrath."
"Why should I promise to spare the sworn enemy of my people?" Dyson was astonished he was actually considering that possibility at all but he was.
"That's the part I was going to think through while Dima was supposed to be looking for you," the girl confided earnestly, "For now, just trust me to find a reason enough for you."
"I trust you," the wolf said and knew he meant it, "And I promise to give you the promise as soon as you're ready with the reason. On a different note, about your criminally-minded cousin Dima, how did Steve and the Morrigan know where to find you in a human bar and who you are?"
"You think he has betrayed me?" Kenzi easily connected the dots and the resigned acceptance of such a possibility in her tone tugged at the stitches in his side.
"That's a hell of a coincidence if he didn't," the wolf grumbled, his tone suggesting he didn't believe much in coincidences, "Anyways, worth a visit to your cousin – I can be real good interrogator."
"I am sure you are," Kenzi slanted a half-amused look, the memory of fangs flashing still not dimmed by time, "But no eating innocent humans if they are innocent."
"I''be fact-finding, not snacking," Dyson nodded, smiling into his beard, but the smile soon faded, "And the Morrigan is bad news. She must be thinking you're the good doctor's only Achilles heel and want to use you as such."
"I wouldn't flatter myself that much," the little human sighed without particular rancor, "I am more of a loveable nuisance. And I'm done being used."
"Then I'll have to sort out this problem for you, as a gesture of good will," the shifter concluded with an unhidden menace lurking in his blue gaze.
"And an unlikely alliance has been struck," the girl grinned extending her tiny hand, palm up, towards the fae, who took it cautiously, almost tenderly, into his.