Liam Takes Manhattan by Thea Harrison


  They only wanted the best for him. They tried to do whatever they could that would make him feel loved and happy, but tonight the appearance of maturity, along with his quiet voice, and the clenched effort in his demeanor had turned the whole encounter dark with a sense of desperation.

  “This is a mistake,” Dragos growled. “I’m going to withdraw my decision.”

  The tension in the room hadn’t dissipated with Liam’s departure. Dragos’s energy was boiling furiously. It felt to Pia like a raw blast of heat.

  She lifted her head to look at him. Now that they were alone, he looked tired, exasperated and more than a little angry.

  The events of the last week had been brutal on everyone. Bereavement was hard at any time, but Con’s death had been hardest on Dragos and the sentinels, who had lost a brother and a comrade-in-arms. Her heart ached for the tired slump in Dragos’s shoulders and the shadows under his eyes.

  But as long as he was Lord of the Wyr, it was his job to handle it. And because he had such broad, strong shoulders, she knew that he could.

  So she didn’t say anything to make it easier on him. Instead, she said, “Hold on. You made him a promise, and you have to keep it. No matter how hard it might be, we don’t break promises we make to our children. You just told him so, yourself.”

  He shook his head. “Normally I would agree with you, but Liam can’t be a rebellious son and expect to be a sentinel at the same time. I won’t allow it. Sentinels obey orders. They have to, Pia.”

  Of course he was right. Sentinels were responsible for carrying out Dragos’s orders, and they were responsible for the safety of the Wyr demesne. It was essential for them to be able to balance following orders with taking independent initiative when necessary.

  But Dragos was only right up to a point.

  “Well, he isn’t a sentinel,” she said dryly. She wasn’t quite sure how to finish that sentence—Yet? Ever?—so she left it hanging awkwardly in the silence. “I guess that means he gets to be a rebellious son right now.”

  He looked at her, gold eyes blazing. “Point taken. Should I go after him?”

  Dropping her head back into her hands, she scrubbed at her scalp with her fingers as she tried to think.

  One of the things that made her so happy was the love she witnessed between father and son. But no matter how much love lay between them, Dragos was very much the autocrat, and Liam had already demonstrated he wasn’t responding very well to that at the moment.

  Finally she replied, “I think we need to let him be. And trust him. He’s our good, sweet boy, and I know he will become a good, sweet man. Let’s not make that transition harder on him than it has to be.” Pressing her fingertips to her temples, she added, “I think.”

  Dragos dropped a hand onto her shoulder and squeezed lightly. His touch steadied her as it always did, and she reached behind her to cover his fingers with her own.

  Then he sat down at the dining table, rubbed his face and said, “So I guess we eat dinner.”

  She nodded. “I guess we do.”

  She thought she had lost her appetite, but they had a new son growing inside her, and the demands he made on her body had her rethinking that almost immediately. As Dragos picked up his knife and fork, she drew her plate back to her, and they ate their meal in thoughtful, worried silence.

  Chapter Two

  Most people had no idea who Liam was.

  Most of the public, if they had heard of Liam Cuelebre, prince of the Wyr, would think of him as the new addition to the Cuelebre family. They might remember the baby photos that his mom and dad had released to the media not a year ago. If anything, they would expect him to be approaching toddlerhood.

  Even most of the Wyr who lived in Cuelebre Tower didn’t know the tall, broad-shouldered Liam who had emerged over the last two days. After flying all night and turning over the puzzle pieces of his trap, he found an odd sort of comfort standing unrecognized in line at the Starbucks on the ground floor of the Tower.

  The dark-haired girl standing in line in front of him was cute. Really cute. She wore a tunic and leggings, and her gazelle long legs were sheathed in narrow black boots.

  Evidently, she thought he was pretty cute too, as she looked over her shoulder and gave him a shy smile. Male interest sparked in his tired mind. As he took a step closer and opened his mouth, someone tapped his shoulder.

  When he turned, he found Hugh standing behind him. Instantly, the small pleasure of sharing a smile with a pretty girl evaporated, and the invisible trap sprang around him again.

  “What’s up, sport?” Hugh asked, his plain, bony face creased in a smile.

  Hugh had been his babysitter and bodyguard for several months now. Retired from active duty in the Wyr military service, Hugh had a long rangy body, lethal combat skills and a mild, soft-spoken manner, and while Liam loved the gargoyle, the last thing he ever wanted to ask a girl he’d been about to invite out on a date was if she had met his nanny yet.

  He snapped, “What are you doing here? Did Mom or Dad send you?”

  Hugh’s smile faded and his hand fell away. “No, I havna talked to them this morning.” His Scottish accent was usually faint, but it sounded more pronounced when he was upset. “I was just getting in line to grab a cup of coffee and saw you standing here.”

  Remorse prickled Liam’s conscience. Giving up on the idea of flirting with the girl in front of him, he rubbed the back of his neck and muttered, “Sorry. I didn’t get any sleep, and I’m short-tempered right now.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Hugh said. “It’s been a tough week for everybody.”

  “Yeah, no kidding.” Whenever Liam thought of Constantine’s still face on the funeral pyre, he wanted to cry or fly into a rage. He had cried, in the dark of the night when he had been alone.

  Con had been family too. He did not want to see the other male’s death as an opportunity. He did not.

  The line moved, and the girl walked away with her drink. Liam placed his order for a cup of black coffee and Hugh did too.

  As they collected their drinks, Hugh walked over to the nearby stand to stir three packets of sugar into his coffee. Liam followed and hovered near Hugh’s elbow, his thoughts and emotions as unsettled as they had been when he had left the penthouse the night before.

  Without looking at him, Hugh asked quietly, “Feel like talking? Or do you have some place you’ve got to be?”

  He knew his mom would be fretting about him, and probably his dad too, if Dragos fretted about anything. He needed to check in upstairs, but he wasn’t ready to face them yet. Not until he managed to put himself in some kind of order and had at least some idea of what he needed to say, if not what the end result of the conversation might be.

  Blowing out a breath, he replied, “Sure. I mean, if you’ve got the time. You’re supposed to be off this week.”

  Hugh’s rare smile appeared again, lighting up his face. “I always have time for you, sport. Come on.”

  Walking out of the Starbucks, Hugh led the way to the large open food court area by an indoor fountain. Several tables were available. As they settled into chairs, Liam gulped at his coffee and looked around. He recognized several of the people at other tables, but nobody glanced at them or appeared to recognize him. By virtue of the acoustics and the noise of the fountain, the area was as good a place as any to have a private conversation.

  Hugh removed the lid from his coffee and blew on it. “What’s going on?”

  “My life is all knotted up,” Liam muttered. “And I don’t know how to untangle it.”

  The gargoyle gave a slow, calm nod. “Why don’t you start with one piece and let’s see what happens.”

  The cute girl walked by. Slouching in his seat, Liam watched her until she was out of sight. He said, “I feel so damn guilty.”

  “What on earth do you have to feel guilty about?”

  The surprised kindness in Hugh’s expression brought unexpected tears springing to his eyes. Shoving his finger
s through his overlong hair, he blinked rapidly until they disappeared.

  Sometimes things felt so raw that they were almost impossible to say out loud, no matter how much privacy one had. He forced the words out through gritted teeth. “I feel sick that Constantine is dead, but I feel even sicker about the fact that he was barely cremated before I took advantage of it.”

  Hugh’s gray eyes sharpened, and his expression turned very serious. “Liam,” he said with quiet firmness. “There is no way on earth anybody believes that you took advantage of Con’s death.”

  Hunching his shoulders, Liam wrapped his hands around his hot coffee cup and stared down at it. His hands seemed like they belonged to a stranger now, large and powerful. He clenched them into fists.

  “As soon as he was cremated, I started pushing my dad to let me fight for the empty sentinel position,” he muttered. “And I didn’t stop until he said yes. It was all I could think about. It’s almost all I can think about right now too.”

  Hugh took a small, thoughtful sip from his coffee before he replied. “The way I heard it told, the sentinels asked Dragos what he was going to do to fill the position. You joined in the conversation. Nothing wrong with that, Liam. And there was nothing wrong with getting your dad to take you seriously enough to promise to at least give you a chance.”

  Every careful word Hugh said stung. But then everything stung these days. Liam rubbed his tired eyes and replied flatly, “You don’t think I can do it, do you?”

  He shouldn’t be surprised. Nobody thought he could. Hell, even he wasn’t sure if he could.

  Dragos’s seven sentinels were among the most deadly Wyr fighters in the world. They combined strength, cunning, ruthlessness and experience, and when they went after something, they did it with complete, unswerving dedication.

  Liam had one huge asset in his favor—his dragon form. Because of it, he was faster and more powerful than any of the other sentinels, but that didn’t give him the experience he needed to win the empty position in a trial by combat. It didn’t give him investigative skills, honed by years of work, or tactical battle experience.

  He had virtually nothing he could take to the position except for raw magical skills and brute strength. And if there was one thing he would bet on, it was that his father would not pull any punches when it came down to a trial by combat to fill the vacancy.

  If anything, Dragos would probably be more ruthless than ever, because he had made it crystal clear: he would not give Liam the position. He would give Liam almost anything else Liam asked for, but not that. Liam would have to earn it, like every other sentinel had earned their place, or he would be out.

  And if he was out, he truly had no idea what he would do with his life. He was too Powerful, too unique. There was no place for him in the Wyr demesne that felt genuine.

  Dragos had offered him a starter position in one of his companies, but that felt fake and unsatisfying. He didn’t want to work for his father. As much as he loved him, he was very much aware that Dragos’s age, reputation and Power meant he cast a very long shadow, and Liam didn’t want to live under that. He wanted to fight, to claw his way to his own place in the world, and own it.

  Searching his gaze, Hugh asked, “Do you even want the position? Because you should think long and hard about that. The sentinels live a hard life. Their lives are dangerous, and they’re always on call, always. Getting hurt would be a way of life. Loneliness might well be a way of life too. There’s a reason why none of them have mated until recently. It’s a rare person who can genuinely, wholeheartedly commit to having a Wyr sentinel as their mate.”

  Liam’s gaze went to the fountain. He said, “I think so. I mean, I think I want it. Fighting for the position, and winning it, and facing those daily challenges sounds … satisfying. But how can I know for sure? The possibility didn’t even come up until this week. All I really know for sure is that I want the chance to try for it, even if it seems unlikely that I’ll get it.” The bitterness crept back into his voice. “Besides, what else am I going to do?”

  “First,” Hugh said, “feeling at a loss as to what to do with your life is something every young person goes through, Liam, so take heart. As unique as some of your challenges might be, you’re also going through something verra normal. Second—you can’t become a sentinel just because you don’t know what else to do with your life.”

  He closed his eyes. “I know.”

  “You’ve got a lot to think about.”

  “Yeah. And somehow I’ve got to find the right kind of training. The training that you and the sentinels have given me has been great, but—it’s not enough. You guys love me. I need the kind of experience where somebody’s not going to give a shit if they knock my teeth in. I need to go through real life, live with real danger.”

  Hugh pursed his lips. “That’s not going to be the easiest thing to come by. You also need space to think, and while you might not want to admit this, Liam, you still need some schooling. You’re so talented and book bright, and you have a lot of facts crammed into that extremely capacious head of yours, but you don’t have real-life application.”

  “I know,” he muttered again. His shoulders slumped. The challenges he faced felt all but insurmountable. “I have no idea how to get any of that. I just . . .” He took a deep breath and forced himself to say what had haunted him all through the sleepless night. “I don’t think I can get any of that at home.”

  The older man studied him in long silence. Then he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table, and said softly, “I’m going to tell you something that, well, nobody told me not to tell you. But at the same time, I dinna think your mom and dad would take too kindly that I do tell you, so I would appreciate it if you and I can keep this between ourselves. Can you do that?”

  Liam’s attention sharpened. He replied, “Sure. Whatever you say stays between the two of us.”

  “Okay.” Hugh rubbed his face with one large raw-boned hand. “Have you ever heard of Glenhaven?”

  Liam frowned, searching his memory, and came up with a vague reference he had heard at some point. “Isn’t that a Scottish college?”

  “Yes, it is. More accurately, Glenhaven is the college for the Elder Races. It’s not actually in Scotland, but in an Other land, with the crossover passageway located just outside of Edinburgh. While the college is run by the gargoyle clans, it’s not affiliated with any one demesne or race. When you were very small, yet still clearly showing what a prodigy you were, Dragos and Pia had a brief discussion about whether or not they should send you to Glenhaven.”

  He frowned, the vague memory teasing him. Was that where he had heard the name? Had he overheard his mom and dad discussing it? “They never said anything about it to me.”

  “That’s because they quickly ruled it out as an option. At the start of each term, Glenhaven closes the crossover passageway. Nobody gets in or out until the term is over. The school claims that blocking access to the outside allows them to maintain their impartiality and high academic standards. It’s also supposed to create an atmosphere where students develop their own relationships with each other, with a minimum of influence from outside politics. I think the real truth is that people take their political biases with them into the college, but that’s neither here nor there, I guess.”

  As Liam listened, his mind began to race. “If the college is in an Other land, time doesn’t pass there like it does for us. What’s the time slippage like?”

  Hugh shrugged. “I’ve heard time passes faster for the college than it does on Earth, but I don’t know any actual numbers.”

  “If time passes faster there, I could possibly get more time to prepare,” Liam said, beginning to feel the first stirrings of excitement. “It would be pushing at the terms of Dad’s promise, but it’s worth considering.”

  “I think it is,” Hugh replied, giving him a sidelong smile. “There are disadvantages too, though. It’s a long way away. If you went to Glenhaven, you would be completely c
ut off from everything and everyone you’ve known in your life. There’s no phone calls home. No email, no Internet, no microwave popcorn, cars or movies. No changing your mind, at least until the end of a term. For those reasons alone, I don’t think Pia and Dragos did more than discuss it once or twice and ask me a few questions about it. Also, you might squander a significant portion of your year on something that you find doesn’t meet all your needs the way you had hoped, or help you get ready to face the sentinel trial.”

  Absorbing the information, he nodded. Going to Glenhaven would be a risk. But it might be his best shot to figure out what the hell he needed to do with his life.

  Liam asked, “Have you been to Glenhaven before?”

  The older man shook his head. “No, I haven’t. I’m not from any of the clans that run the college. I have seen drawings and paintings, though, and they look quite beautiful. They have some images posted on their website, if you want to take a look.”

  “I do,” he said absently, as his mind raced through possibilities. Then he caught up with what Hugh had said, and laughed. “They’re based in an Other land, yet they have a website?”

  The gargoyle chuckled. “Yeah, it’s not an extensive website like academic institutions here have, with web portals, online databases and class curriculums. But it does offer some general descriptions. Tuition fees are pretty astronomical, or so I’ve heard, but I think they also have scholarship programs for intellectually and magically gifted individuals. It’s not just the wealthy and privileged of the Elder Races that attend.”

  “I need to get to a laptop.” Tossing back the last of his coffee, Liam stood, and Hugh did as well. He paused to give the other man an earnest look. “Thank you. Seriously. I really needed this conversation.”

  Hugh’s smile creased his lean cheeks. Hooking an arm around Liam’s neck, Hugh pulled him into a brief, tight hug. “You’re most welcome, sport. I’m glad it helped. I’m going to get some breakfast. Want to join me?”

 
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