Halflings Read online

  Krissy had a death grip on Nikki’s arm. “Oh, I want one,” she said, and Nikki felt heat rise to her cheeks. In fact, the whole room was suddenly warmer. I want one too. The thought shocked her and the heat on her face rose to a scorch.

  When Mace’s cool ocean gaze landed on her, his forward momentum stopped.

  She tried to swallow the ball of cotton in her throat, but it wouldn’t go down. Nikki flushed. The prickly heat drained from her face, down her neck and shoulders, and onto her arms.

  “Ouch,” she heard from somewhere far off. It was Krissy. “Hey, you shocked me.”

  She knew she should answer or mumble an apology, but Nikki was lost in an ocean-blue world.

  His eyes dropped contact for an instant while he nodded to the younger guy and said something to Raven. They walked away in opposite directions, leaving Mace to look at her.

  Off to her right, Krissy followed the younger one deeper into the art gallery. Suddenly, in a room full of people, she and Mace were the only ones there. Such a warm, fuzzy feeling surrounded her in that moment, she couldn’t remember what she’d been so nervous about.

  His tongue darted out and moistened his lips as he strode to her.

  Wham, wham, wham. Was that her heart or had someone tipped the series of bronze sculptures like dominos? Don’t just stare, dummy. Smile.

  Mercifully, he spoke. She wasn’t able. “Hi.”

  She nodded and opened her mouth.

  His lip curled in a devastating half grin. “I hope it’s okay that we came tonight.”

  She nodded again, ever the brilliant conversationalist.

  “Good. Who was the girl with you? Vine said he thought her name was Krissy.”

  “Yes.” Finally a word. Now, string a few more together and you won’t be a complete dweeb. “She’s my best friend.”

  But Mace’s concentration shifted to the front door where a handful of new people were coming in. He seemed to scan each one yet kept half his attention on her.

  She frowned, weirded out by his strange behavior, his odd intensity. “Why exactly did you come tonight?”

  He flashed an even row of pearly teeth. “We hardly know anyone in town, and since you and I met and sort of became friends …” He raised his open hands in a shrug.

  Sort of became friends? “I called you a freak,” she blurted, then clamped her hand over her mouth.

  He reached to her wrist and removed her hand from her face.

  She forced herself to move her eyes from his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the other day. I’m grateful for what you did. You saved my life. Twice.”

  His mouth quirked and he released her hand. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “Okay. This is my first art show and I’m really nervous. When I’m nervous I blurt things I shouldn’t.”

  “Like right now?”

  She bobbed her head.

  “Where’s your painting?”

  She motioned with a limp hand behind her. “They are in the lavender room.”

  “They? More than one? That’s really cool.”

  Her fingertips drummed the side of her dress. “Thanks.”

  “Are you happy with how they look? You know, placement in a gallery is extremely important.”

  “I haven’t been in there yet.”

  “Are you kidding? Come on.” He placed a hand at her waist and applied gentle pressure, coaxing her deeper into the gallery. The rush of remembrance surprised her, the electrifying hug in the barn revisited her flesh, and she was glad when she passed under an air vent offering a fractional amount of relief. He leaned closer as they passed through various rooms. “Don’t take this personally, but the color lavender makes me want to puke.”

  She cast him a sideways glance. “I thought I was the only one.” Once in the wretchedly painted room, she motioned to her paintings.

  For several seconds he stared at them. “They’re great,” he said.

  She had to admit, matted and framed in elegance and secured to the wall, they did look good. “I messed up on the last one and had to start over.”

  “I see your intention, though. The gate in the center, the pots of flowers surrounding it. It’s like an invitation. Really nice work, Nikki. You have a lot of talent.”

  Hmm. She hadn’t thought of it as an invitation. She’d just been walking through town when she’d spotted the brightly colored flowers, and knew she couldn’t fit the whole scene onto one canvas. “It’s really not that special.”

  He turned to face her. “It is. It evokes emotion. It makes something happen inside when you look at it.”

  She swallowed hard. He evoked emotion. He made something happen inside when she looked at him. She really hoped her thoughts weren’t as visible as they felt.

  “Mace,” someone said from the doorway. Raven nodded for him to come.

  “Stay here,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  But his words had an authoritative ring to them, one she didn’t appreciate. She sighed and turned to look at her pictures again. “Lavender’s not so bad,” she muttered.

  Chapter

  9

  I found him,” Vine said. “Dark-haired guy at the front door.

  Where’s Nikki?”

  Mace’s heart rate quickened. “She’s in the back. There’s no way he could get to her.” Mace scanned the guy, whose posture seemed awfully calm for an attacker. “How do you know he’s after Nikki?”

  “Gun,” Vine said.

  Mace drew a deep breath, and the ting of metal and gunpowder filled his nose. “Good job, Vine. How long has he been here?”

  “A couple of minutes. He talked to the thin lady in the black suit.” Vine motioned back toward the door. “As you can see, now he’s looking for Nikki.”

  It was true. The thirtyish man’s cold black eyes and fake smile darted around the room.

  But Mace, Raven, and Vine created an impenetrable wall outside the lavender gallery. They could handle this easily, and hopefully the art patrons wouldn’t have a clue.

  “Nikki won’t come out here, right?” Raven said, words teetering on panic.

  “No, I told her to stay in the ba —” But even as he spoke, her scent entered his nose with such force, it kicked the whole operation into overdrive.

  Nikki took Mace by the shoulder. “Hey, guys, Krissy wanted me to ask if you —”

  He didn’t look at her. His entire being was focused on the dark-haired guy, who began reaching inside his coat when Nikki entered the room. “He’s going for his gun,” Mace said. “Vine, go!”

  The command was unnecessary; Vine was tackling the guy as Mace and Raven turned and tackled Nikki.

  To their surprise, a black leather checkbook went sailing into the air as Vine dropped the guy to the floor.

  Mace and Raven flew to their feet and hustled Nikki into the lavender room.

  The next fifteen minutes passed in something of a blur. Coleen, with one sprig of hair rebelliously slashing her face, stood toe-to-toe with Nikki. In the flurry of words, there was something about “friend’s childish pranks,” “the man could press charges,” “she didn’t have a clue why he still wanted to buy Nikki’s paintings,” and so on. “Do you know the man they attacked?” Coleen snapped.

  Nikki shook her head. “No. I didn’t even see him.”

  Coleen smoothed her hair and straightened her posture. “I can’t afford a lawsuit.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll make the boys leave. I don’t really even know them that well. They’re … new at school.”

  Coleen’s face softened. “When they arrived, I thought they were models. I even toyed with the idea of offering to sculpt one of them.” She shook her head, an attempt to clear the runaway thought, no doubt. “I suggest you stay away from those boys. They are nothing but trouble.”

  Tell me about it, Nikki wanted to scream. “Did they happen to say why they tackled the guy?”

  “They said he had a gun.”

  Cold swirled down Nikki’s
back. She thought she’d heard the younger one, Vine, say something about a gun.

  Coleen hardened. “Don’t even consider the thought they did the right thing. The man opened his coat wide and there was nothing there.”

  Nikki nodded. But she knew guns were most inconspicuous in the back of a belt.

  She chewed on the incident for the next hour while people meandered in and out of the lavender room. She’d become its occupant, too mortified to leave. Krissy left for home hours ago, leaving just her, three paintings of a gate and flowers, a lavender room, and a string of art aficionados who tried to ignore her, but whose stares she felt nonetheless.

  When the hair prickled on the back of her neck, she knew someone was close.

  He breathed a hot puff of air along her spine, and she jumped.

  Raven grinned. “Nice paintings.”

  Nikki threw a look to the doorway. “What are you doing here? I thought Coleen threw you out!”

  His eyes drifted over her. “She did. I came in through the back.”

  Her nerves were all jittery. “Well, just slip right back out, because my art career is over if she catches you.”

  Raven was staring at her shoulder. He slipped his index finger along the dress strap and she felt the material unwind.

  He flashed a beaming smile. “Sorry. You were twisted.”

  Her hands fisted at her sides. “You’re the one who’s twisted. Leave.”

  “No,” he countered, and tiny dimples appeared on his cheeks.

  Nikki’s gaze drifted to the doorway. “Did that guy really have a gun?”

  “Yup.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “We watched him leave a few hours ago. Don’t worry, Nikki, you’re safe with me.” He reached for her strap again.

  She leaned away from his touch. “I highly doubt that.” Did he have to stand so close? Touch so much?

  He flashed a devastating look. “Maybe not completely safe.”

  “I’ve been warned about guys like you.”

  He moved closer, appearing to pull her exhale into his lungs. His eyes dilated for an instant and his body seemed to go limp. But a second later, he was back to normal. “You’ve never known a guy like me.”

  “Well, I don’t think I’ve missed out on anything,” she said, feeling a puff of pride.

  “You are one cold female.” His eyes left her and fell to her paintings. “I only came back to tell you what I think of your artwork.”

  “Can’t wait. And after you tell me, promise you’ll leave.”

  “I promise, even if you beg me to stay.”

  “That’s highly improbable.”

  He gave the pictures a fleeting glance. “You didn’t draw these because you liked the flowers or the gate.”

  “Oh, really?” She crossed her arms over her chest. He’s already blown it. That was exactly why I chose the subject matter.

  “Really.” He pointed to the painting in the center. “It was the crack in the pot.”

  Nikki’s smug smile disappeared.

  His finger traced along the blemish. “Yeah, all that life, destined to drain into the pavement. Pretty and colorful on top, but broken and useless if moved.” He angled to face her and Nikki found herself turning to face him as well. “You don’t even see yourself as a real artist.”

  She dragged her lower lip into her mouth and bit down. It was true, she didn’t.

  “You think you’re a fraud, just copying what someone else created.” He exhaled right into her face.

  Rather than feeling violated by the hot breath, she realized she was savoring it.

  “I like your painting,” he whispered. “I like things that show the reality of life. And death.” Raven stepped away, and there seemed a cold void where he’d been.

  “Wait!” she said, before she could stop herself.

  Facing away from her, he paused, his shoulders dropping a degree with her words. His head turned slowly, giving her a view of his striking profile. “Can’t. I have a promise to keep.” He disappeared through the back door.

  With a head shake, Nikki ran after him into the largest gallery room. He was gone.

  “Botched. That’s the only word to describe this stupid mission. Completely, utterly, absolutely botched.” Vine collapsed into his seat.

  Raven leaned back, balancing on two legs of the dining room chair. “That’s four words.”

  Vine’s hand raked through his long hair. “Man, I felt like a complete idiot.”

  “A complete, utter, absolute idiot?”

  Vine glared at him across the table.

  “Enough!” Will’s abruptness caught them both off guard. “You jumped too quickly, that’s all.”

  Mace had remained quiet, lost in a sea of his own battles. Did they jump too quickly? All three smelled the gun, but a gun didn’t mean an attack. In Missouri a lot of people carried guns. But it was the smooth, cold, snakelike look on the man’s face that even now caused Mace’s blood to chill. Everything about that guy was wrong. He was too cool, too callous. And Mace would swear he smelled the spirit of murder around him. How many times can we mess up? How many mistakes until … “Are we going to be pulled out of this journey, Will? Is the Throne going to look down and say, Hey, losers, why I don’t I send someone capable of not looking like a —”

  Raven dropped forward. “Like a complete, utter, absolute idiot?”

  Will shot a warning look in Raven’s direction, then turned to Mace while tension mounted around the table. “The Throne doesn’t give you a mission, then jerk the rug out when you make a mistake. That’s not the structure of the kingdom. We make mistakes. And we move on.”

  Raven’s mouth jerked. “You should know.”

  Will’s jaw remained set, but his eyes flashed sadness. “We all have things we’d like to change. But that cannot keep us from moving ahead.”

  Raven was sick of the fatherly advice — Mace could see it in his contemptuous glare. At least the three of them wouldn’t be removed from the mission. Mace’s mind raced; maybe he could repair the damage. “Nikki Youngblood won’t ever want to speak to us again. That’s going to make it kind of difficult to protect her.”

  Will nodded, thoughtful for a moment. “I believe you underestimate Miss Youngblood. You’ve lost some ground with her, but in Nikki’s heart I think she knows she’s in danger. And if what we think we know of her is true, she’s a girl with an eye for survival. That could work to your advantage.”

  Mace wished the words soothed the barbed wire in his stomach.

  Vine opened a bag and offered a piece of red licorice to Raven, who scowled and shoved it away.

  Will spoke. “Raven, are you displeased with this journey?”

  He laughed without humor. “So what if I am? Like it matters. Like I have a choice. I’m the product of two beings who were never created to be together and I’ve inherited the worst of both species. This journey is the least of my worries.”

  The bag slipped from Vine’s fingers and fell to the table. “I think we’ve inherited the best of both species.”

  “You are a Halfling, as were your parents before you. A man who hates half of himself hates all of himself,” Will warned.

  “See, that’s just the problem. I’m not a man. Exactly. But I’m not an angel either. Trapped halfway between, where do I fit? Oh, yeah. Nowhere.”

  Mace watched the exchange with pounding aggravation. He was tired of Raven’s eternal “It’s not fair” spiel. He’d rather focus on the girl. The look of shock and disappointment on her face after he and Raven tackled and sheltered her from the dangerous checkbook. Even if Nikki forgave them, she’d never trust them. She would be scared to come anywhere near them. But then a familiar scent — so faint he barely noticed — trickled into his nose. Will was right about Nikki. She truly was a girl with an eye for survival — she just wanted to approach it on her own terms.

  “We’re all in a war,” Will said.

  “Not the humans,” Raven countered.


  “Especially the humans. They’re at a huge disadvantage, not being born with eyes to see the spiritual battle. Yet they still must choose a side. And it’s their faith alone that equips them to make that choice.”

  “I hate humans,” Raven mumbled. Not one being at the table believed that. What Raven hated was himself. Mace wouldn’t be surprised if Raven didn’t secretly wish he was human.

  “You have a destiny, Raven. That’s all one can ask. Man or angel.” Will narrowed his gaze on him. “Or Halfling.” As the tension drained from the room, the muscles in Will’s giant shoulders relaxed.

  The scent was intensified and with it Mace’s heart rate. He wondered why the others hadn’t clued in. Suddenly, Raven’s eyes met his and held, and a thin smile appeared on Raven’s face before he closed his eyes and drew on the scent, deeply dragging her smell into himself.

  Irritation zinged through Mace.

  “Now, let’s talk about what we’ve learned. Who wants to start us off?”

  “I do.” The feminine voice came from the dining room doorway. Standing with her back straight and her fingers jittering nervously, stood Nikki, now clad in her typical jeans and T. Beyond her, the front door hung open.

  Will’s mouth dropped.

  Vine pointed. “How’d she —? How?”

  They’d all underestimated Miss Youngblood. She was tenacious, Mace decided. Good. Tenacity he could use to keep her alive. Though she was gutsy, barging into their house like this. What was strange, only he and Raven sensed her. Perhaps Uncle Will had been too involved to notice, and Vine, well, was still a newbie.

  Mace knew that few things ruffled Will’s feathers. Literally. But this girl had Will’s pinions on high alert. Recovering quickly from the surprise, Will donned a practiced smile. “Excuse me, dear. You must have the wrong house.”