Moonshadow

Chapter Fourteen

At her words, Nikolas’s arms turned into iron bands. Bowing his head over her, he crushed her body against him.

I met Morgan in town.

The words were worse than his worst fears, and at the thought of her facing Morgan alone, a sense of wrongness, like nausea, clenched his stomach.

She coughed. “Too tight. Ease up.”

“I shouldn’t have let you go into town by yourself,” he growled. “I did it anyway, and I knew better.”

Sighing, she rested her head on his shoulder. She said, sounding tired, “You don’t let me do anything. ‘Let’ and ‘permit’ are not words we modern folk allow in our vocabulary. Do we understand this concept yet?”

“Sophie, for God’s sake,” he snapped while he stroked her hair. He couldn’t seem to help himself. His hands wanted to roam all over her body so that he could finally insert into his overheated brain that she had returned unmaimed.

At that, she seemed to get how genuinely upset he was. Lifting her head, she searched his face. “I’m okay. For the moment, everything is okay.”

He took in her appearance for the first time, and his eyes narrowed. Her dark curls were glossy and defined, and they fell down her back in an extravagantly feminine mane. And she had done something to her eyes and mouth, making them dramatic and sensual. The smoky accents she had applied to her eyes had turned them even more electric than usual.

“You went into town looking like that?” he asked. He couldn’t help himself and touched a forefinger to her red, ripe mouth. A soft smear of color stained his fingertip, and he licked at it. It tasted of her. His cock went from zero to sixty in a single second, rock hard and straining against the seam of his jeans.

She gave him a leery glance. “Like… what, exactly?”

The truth tore out of his gut, raw and husky. “Like something I couldn’t wait to eat up.”

Her pupils dilated in quick, involuntary reaction. She recoiled, pulling out of his arms. “Too late,” she said harshly. “You had your chance and decided to cut it short.”

As she turned back to the Mini, he gritted, “Sophie, I still want you.”

“No.” She stuck her head into the back and pulled out packages. When she emerged again, her cheeks were flushed with pink color and her eyes snapped with some unnamed emotion. She met his gaze, the line of her jaw tight. “You walked away last night, and you got to do that. That was your choice, so okay. I can go with it. But you don’t get to push me away, only to try to pull me back in again. I don’t play that kind of game.”

He snapped, “I don’t play any games.”

Instead of responding in the lively way he had come to expect, she merely looked bruised. “Oh, no? Well, I don’t know what you’re doing then.”

“I don’t either,” he whispered.

That made her pause. She searched his expression uncertainly, but when he would have reached out for her again, to touch her in any way he could, the cottage door opened and Gawain strode out.

“Hello, lass,” he said. His intelligent gaze traveled from her to Nikolas, who stood with his fists clenched. “How was your trip to town?”

“She ran into Morgan,” Nikolas bit out. As Gawain’s expression changed, he said telepathically to Sophie, We’re not finished talking.

She not-quite-glanced at him. The flush of pink color had fled, leaving her looking pale and strained.

Oh no, we’re finished, she said. Until you figure out what you’re doing—whatever that might be—we don’t have anything more to say to each other that’s of a personal nature.

“Come inside, lass,” Gawain said gently while looking around sharply at their surroundings. He put a protective arm around her. “Tell us all about what happened.”

As he touched Sophie, Nikolas nearly went for his throat.

His friend’s throat. One of his closest, staunchest friends.

Rooted to the spot, he watched them step into the cottage together. Just before Gawain stepped inside, the other man speared him with a look that clearly said he thought Nikolas had lost his damn mind.

Nikolas couldn’t blame him—or Sophie. He had lost his damn mind. Glancing around one last time, he clamped down on his self-control and strode into the cottage.

Inside, he found Sophie on her knees, offering a small blue jacket to Robin. Looking befuddled, the monkey blinked as he took it. She said gently, “It’s okay if you don’t like it. I just thought you might get cold sometimes.”

From nowhere, her compassion struck Nikolas with an evil kind of accuracy, deep inside where he wore no armor. Pressing his knuckles against his mouth, he watched as the monkey ooh-oohed silently and turned the jacket over and over in his spidery hands. Sophie helped the puck slip into it, and he sat looking down at himself, fingering the gold buttons.

“I brought you a cake too,” she whispered to Robin. “It’s three times your size, and you can have all of it.”

Robin’s eyes were shining. Ooh-ooh, he mouthed and set his hand against her cheek. She covered his small hand with hers.

She brought the puck a jacket and a cake, Gawain said to Nikolas. And she bought flowers and hot chocolate and coffee. That’s all she wanted from town. Flowers, for fuck sake. She shines with spells, and she can make magic bullets. Every single fucking one of our men is going to fall in love with her, Nik. Every single fucking one. Hell, I might even fall in love with her a little myself.

You can’t, Nikolas thought, as his hands clenched again. She’s mine.

The naked aggression on his face caused Gawain to check, and comprehension dawned on the other man’s face. “Oh, boyo,” Gawain said softly while his gaze darkened. “Like that, is it?”

Her interaction with Robin over, Sophie stood and looked at them. She asked, “What’s like what?”

“Nothing,” Nikolas said harshly. He gave the other man a warning stare. “Tell us what happened with Morgan.”

“Okay, but I get to have some of that brandy you bought yesterday while I do it.” She pulled out a chair, sat, and put her head in her hands while Gawain broke open the bottle and poured some of the amber liquid into a glass for her. She took a deep, bracing swallow, then told them everything.

Just listening to how she confronted Morgan over Isabeau’s cruelty had Nikolas heading for the brandy bottle himself. He poured a hefty amount into a glass and knocked it back. It burned all the way down. Then he pivoted to glare at her.

“What is wrong with you?” he demanded. “Are you suicidal?”

Her beautiful, luscious mouth, that mouth he wanted to eat right up, dropped open. She glared back. Then a kind of hilarity entered her expression.

She muttered, “You really are an asshole, aren’t you? You almost tricked me into believing otherwise, but nope. Still an asshole. Honestly, I don’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed by that fact. My head is turned upside down. Mostly I think I’m just disturbed.”

“You knew he was a killer, and you confronted him anyway.” Nikolas advanced on her, rage blinding him. A belated rage born of fear that came much too late to be of good to anybody. “While I’ve been congratulating myself on being modern and reasonable by letting you go to town by yourself, you could have been kidnapped, killed, or tortured every bit as badly as Robin had been or worse. Do you realize what he could have done to you?”

He was shaking from the force that raged through his body. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gawain shift away from leaning against the counter, but Sophie beat the other man to it as she stood and advanced quickly to Nikolas.

Toward him, not away, just as she had done that first night in the pub. Just as she had done during the attack. Just as she had done to Morgan. This woman, this woman—she might be the death of him.

“Hey,” Sophie said in a soft voice. She spread her fingers over his chest, and he clamped his hands around her wrists. “I know what a serious trigger Morgan is for you, and I’m sorry for that. He was a pretty serious trigger for me too when I found out who he was. But it’s okay. For the moment, everything is okay.”

Nothing was okay. His head, his thinking, his emotions, they were all in shambles. Looking into her luminous gaze, he said telepathically, I would not be okay if you put yourself at risk and you came to harm because of it. You must take better care of yourself, my Sophie.

Her eyes widened, and she looked as vulnerable as he had ever seen her look. She told him, I have a terrible temper, and when I lose it, all sense flies out the window. I know it’s a flaw, and I will try to do better. I promise, Nik.

Her quiet words, along with her touch, soothed him, and the shaking fury eased. He gave her a curt nod.

She lingered, studying him, and said aloud, “Okay?”

“Okay.” Touching her felt too good, and he didn’t want to stop. Releasing her wrists, he stepped away, back to the counter to pour himself another brandy.

Sophie felt her way back to her seat and sank into it, while Gawain rubbed his face hard with one massive hand.

“Morgan may be a great many things, but he’s also a man of his word,” the other man said. “He said he meant you no harm for the moment, but he also gave you plenty of warning that will change. Are you sure he believed you when you said the dog disappeared?”

“Yeah,” Sophie said. She ran her fingers through her hair, turning it into even more of a wild, unruly mane. “I’m confident of that. You know the feeling when you’re sure you’ve gotten off a good shot or struck the right blow? I had that sense.”

“Good girl,” Gawain murmured. “That’s a help.”

She looked at the both of them. “But all he has to do is start thinking around the edges, and considering what Robin is capable of, and come up with a few more questions, and he will probably come out here to ask them. And if Isabeau finds out about me and orders him to do something like bring me to her for questioning, he made it very clear he would do it.” She frowned. “In fact, he said he must do it. It was almost like he was saying he would have no choice. Do you think—do you think she might have him under some sort of compulsion?”

Nikolas shook his head, rejecting that idea. “If Oberon ordered any of us to do something, we would be honor bound to do it too. And in any case, it’s beside the point whether or not Morgan is compelled or if he acts of his own volition. He will do it. He has always done it. He would tear Britain to pieces if Isabeau wanted him to. That’s the relevant point.”

She sighed. “In that case, I think we need to expect he will come here and sooner rather than later. He’s not going to find Robin otherwise, which means he will retrace his steps and look everywhere more thoroughly.”

As she spoke, the monkey climbed into her lap, and she put her arms around him, hugging him tight.

“We need to consider our choices,” Nikolas said, looking at Gawain.

Gawain blew out a breath. “One choice is, we scatter more widely again. We don’t converge here, like we had planned. We take Robin with us, like we had originally planned, and Sophie denies everything.”

Nikolas shook his head. “Unacceptable. Our scents are all over this property, and there’s no telling what Isabeau might order Morgan to do once she finds out about Sophie.”

“Yeah, I didn’t like that one either,” Sophie muttered. She put her face in the monkey’s fur while Robin slipped a skinny arm around her neck.

“Second choice,” Gawain said, giving her and the puck a troubled look. “We scatter, we don’t converge, and we take both Sophie and Robin with us. Lass, I’m sorry, but I think we’re past the point where separating will be of any benefit to you. I think you would be in more danger if we left you alone.”

“That’s okay,” she said. “I knew that the moment Morgan showed up and called me by name.”

“Taking both Sophie and Robin is a better option,” Nikolas said. “But it’s still not good enough. That won’t allow us to explore what the house might have to offer. If it can give us a way to access Lyonesse, we need to take that choice, no matter what the risk.”

“Agreed,” Gawain said.

Nikolas looked at Sophie. He told her, “I can still bargain with a Djinn, and Gawain can take you and Robin somewhere safe.”

She straightened. “Not acceptable. You don’t know what the Djinn might demand of you in return, whereas the worst thing that will happen with me is a bill for services, and you already agreed to pay that.”

That wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. She could be hurt. She could die. The better man he had used to be was trying to resurrect himself. He rubbed his eyes. “I don’t like the danger for you.”

She told him in a gentle, firm voice, “Nik, I’m not your pet. I’m not your property. I can assess the relative dangers for myself and make my own decisions.”

He looked over his hand at her. He said, “That doesn’t make it easier for us old-timey folk.”

Her expression lit with smiling warmth. Was that approval? Wonders never ceased. “I have faith in you,” she said. “I know you can handle it.”

She had more faith in him than he had in himself, because he knew if something happened to her, he wouldn’t handle it. Turning his back, he scowled at the view out the kitchen window.

That house. That ugly, monstrous, broken-down house. He was going to throw everything at it in the most insane gamble of his life. “We go in the house,” he said. “And we barricade ourselves in. Morgan can’t get inside, and we have reason to hope he can’t damage it either.”

“If he can do some damage,” Gawain said, “you and the lass are going to need help. We call the others in, and we converge, like we had planned—only we don’t space it out. They need to get here as quickly as possible, tonight.”

“Yes.” Nikolas turned back to them. He said to Sophie, “Thank you.”

“It’ll be the dirtiest, most unhygienic sleepover ever,” she told them with a lopsided grin. “It’ll be fun.”

Out of nowhere, humor bubbled up. It felt good to let it out in a laugh. “When we get inside, the first order of business will be to locate the privy chambers and hope there’s an internal water source, like a well. Chances are, it will have dried out long ago, so we’ll have to dig to hit water again. Failing that, pray there’s a courtyard. With the lake situated so close, I’m going to bet we can hit water somehow.”

Gawain dug out his phone. “I’ll contact the others and tell them to get here as soon as possible and prepare for a siege.”

“Tell Gareth and Cael to focus on weapons,” Nikolas said. “We need longbows and crossbows, and a good supply of arrows. We won’t be able to fire guns from the house.”

“Will do,” Gawain said. “Braden was going to gather camping gear. The rest can concentrate on food and fuel. We need as many supplies as they can lay their hands on. And firewood. Stacks and stacks of firewood.”

Nikolas moved to kneel by Sophie’s side. He looked into the monkey’s eyes. “Robin, do you think you’ve recovered enough that you can create a storm tonight to cover our scents?”

Braiding a long strand of Sophie’s hair, the monkey nodded.

“Good.”

“There’s a shed behind the cottage with a riding lawn mower, wheelbarrow, gardening tools, and an axe,” Gawain told them. “I’m going to start tackling that firewood issue.”

“There’s gardening tools and a lawn mower,” Sophie breathed as Gawain strode out. “I never thought to walk all the way around the cottage.”

After Gawain had left, the puck slipped off Sophie’s lap to go to the kitchen counter, wrap his arms around the cake box, and leap to the floor again. He tottered toward the sitting room.

That left Nikolas and Sophie alone. He still knelt by her side, and instead of rising to his feet, he took one of her hands in his.

She shifted to face him. “You wanted me to do a reading when I got back. What is it you want to find out?”

“I don’t know that it’s relevant any longer.” Absently he rubbed her fingers against his lips. He only grew aware of what he was doing when her hand tightened on his, and she pulled her hand down. But she didn’t try to release his fingers. Instead, she held his hand in her lap. He said telepathically, I still want to try to find out more about the Hounds that attacked me, if I can—whose magic was in play, besides yours. Someone called the fog in. Robin’s a nature sprite. He could have done it. But now I believe he would have been forced.

Could that be the reason Isabeau wants her “pet” back so much? she asked.

Maybe. He looked at her broodingly. I’d also like to know how they knew how to find me. I’ve run through everything multiple times, and I don’t see how I made a mistake, or left a trail, so it bothers me.

No, you wouldn’t have made a mistake like that. She gave him a lopsided smile. You’re too careful. Aloud, she said, “For what it’s worth, it wouldn’t take long to cast the runes for a reading.”

He nodded. “Let’s do it. The men won’t show up before nightfall anyway. After you’re through, we can pack everything that needs to be moved into the great hall.”

“I’m going to start a load of laundry, then I’ll get my runes.” Squeezing his fingers, she let go of his hand and stood. “If we’re going to get caught in a siege, I can at least start out with clean clothes.”

Nikolas rose as well and watched her leave. Then he walked back to his glass of brandy to take another hefty swallow. He held it in his mouth for a moment, focusing on the subtle, warming flavor. For good or for ill, they were throwing everything they had at this venture. Everything they had on Sophie’s abilities.

As she stepped back into the kitchen, he turned. She carried a small bundle of richly colored cloth, which she set on the table while she took a seat. He joined her at the table, sitting opposite her and watching with fascination as she unfolded a dark blue, embroidered cloth. Magic unfurled in the air.

Holding his hand over the cloth to savor the cool sensation of magic, he said, “You did this. You made this.”

“Yes.” She looked surprised. “How can you tell?”

“It feels like you.”

A tinge of color touched her cheeks. “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s a very good thing,” he murmured, watching her. That tinge of color was for him, only this time it wasn’t from distress or anger. Surprised by how good that knowledge felt, he pressed for more. “It’s one of the best things I’ve felt in a long time.”

The pink in her cheeks turned brighter while the expression in her eyes grew vulnerable again. She asked, “What are you doing now?”

Wanting to feel the real thing, not just her Power, he reached out to stroke the petal-soft skin of her cheek. “I want you to trust me,” he said steadily. “I’m going to ask you to believe that I walked away last night for good reasons, and none of those reasons had anything to do with you. None of them had anything to do with how much I wanted to stay with you. We can talk more about it later, but for now, can you trust me that much?”

Her breath came out of her on a gentle, unsteady sigh. After compressing her lips together for a brief moment, she nodded. “Okay. I do trust you that much.”

“Thank you, my Sophie,” he whispered.

Her attention fell to the pouch she held. Opening it, she shook a pile of polished stones into one palm. They were pretty, rose quartz with gold runes engraved into them. Her eyes went unfocused. “I’m trying to figure out how to phrase the issue. You want answers about what happened.”

“I guess the key is not so much to find out if I made a mistake.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The key is to make sure that whatever it was doesn’t happen again. That’s why I haven’t been able to let it go. Maybe it was a mistake I made. Maybe they have an ability to track us that we don’t know about. If Robin created the fog, I can let that go, but maybe the person responsible for the fog wasn’t Robin. Maybe that person was the same someone who also found me.”

As she listened, she nodded. “So the question becomes, what are the vulnerabilities we have that we do not know?” Her glance darted sidelong at him, as quick as a silverfish, and then away again. She added, “Regarding this conflict. Would that be correct?”

“Yes.” He sat back and folded his arms. “That’s the essence of the issue.”

“All right. I can use that. Now I need for you to be quiet and let me work. Don’t ask questions until I’m done.”

As he watched, she held the stones cupped in both hands for a long moment while her features settled into an expression of concentration. Then she tossed the rune stones gently onto the cloth.

This was what she had done when she had received the vision of him and when he had connected to the image of her. He watched her closely, fascinated by every small, minute shift in her expression. Her attention focused on things he couldn’t see.

As he watched, her skin darkened. Her mouth opened as if she would speak, but no sound came out. She placed a hand to her throat, and that was when he realized she wasn’t breathing.

“Sophie,” he said. His heart pounded.

When she didn’t respond, he stood so fast it shot his chair back against the wall. He shoved the table aside, sending cloth and stones flying, picked her up, and laid her quickly on her back, on the floor.

She still isn’t breathing.

Panic fired along all his nerve endings. Gently he parted her lips and ran his forefinger through her mouth to make sure there weren’t any obstructions. He hadn’t seen her put anything in her mouth, but he had to make sure. Then he sealed her lips with his and blew air into her lungs. Then again. And again.

“Come on,” he rasped in between breaths. What do you say when your world has stopped? “What the fuck is the matter with you, Sophie, come on.”

After giving her three breaths, he felt for a pulse. Part of him couldn’t believe he was doing this. She had been fine. She had just been fine.

Suddenly she broke into a spasm of coughing, and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. Her eyes flared wide. She stared at him, then rolled onto her side, sucking air and coughing.

“Easy, take it easy,” he said hoarsely while he rubbed her back. “You’re okay.”

But you almost weren’t.

As she pushed herself into a sitting position, he slid an arm underneath her to help, then he kept gathering her up until he held her in his arms. She didn’t appear to mind. Either she was shaking or he was. Gods damn, this day had been hell on his nerves, and he hadn’t even seen any combat.

He knew how to fight and fight well. He didn’t know how to deal with any of this other shit. At this point, combat would be a relief.

Rein it in, Nik. One thing at a time.

Putting his face in her hair, he forced himself to say calmly, “You stopped breathing. Are you aware that you stopped breathing?”

“I came to that conclusion,” she croaked. She was still sucking in great lungsful of air. “I need a drink of water.”

Immediately he rose, rinsed her brandy glass and filled it with fresh water, and brought it to her. He knelt on one knee while she drank. She drained the glass, and he took it from her to set it aside.

As her color returned to normal, he said, again in a too-calm voice, “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that casting the runes was so dangerous? If I had known, I never would have asked that of you.”

“Normally, they’re not.” Her voice hitched and sounded raspy. She coughed again. “Normally I just see your garden-variety type of vision. This is only the second time it’s become too real. I’ve got to stop throwing those stones.”

He agreed wholeheartedly. While he glanced around the kitchen, he opened his senses wide to check for dangerous magic. Was there a hint of something in the air that he had felt before, something on that first day when the Hounds had ambushed him? Some other Power in play…

There, low to the ground, he saw the monkey peering around the corner, watching them from the doorway to the sitting room. Even for a monkey, Robin wore an odd expression, looking somehow feral and sad all at once.

Rage detonated deep inside. Nikolas hissed, Did you do this to her? After everything she has done for you?

The puck whisked out of sight. Intent on going after him, Nikolas started to rise. The only thing that stopped him was Sophie reaching for his hand. She looked so distressed he abandoned going after the puck for the moment and put his arms around her.

She tucked her face into the crook of his neck and leaned against him, and it was so unlike her usual, snappy self he had no choice but to enfold her, cradling her against his chest as close as he could.

The detonation of rage didn’t die. Instead, it grew stronger. He growled, “What did you see in the vision?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispered.

Her voice sounded hurt and small, which frankly made a part of him crazy. He hated that something had managed to get inside her and wound her like that. He cupped her head as if to shield her from the world.

As if to shield her most especially from himself, even as he said in a quiet, hard voice, “It doesn’t matter whether you want to or not. You have to talk about it.”

When she didn’t respond, he slipped a hand underneath her chin and forced her to look up. Her eyes had filled with tears, and she looked at him with such… such compassion?… it started an entirely different alarm going off inside him.

“What?” he said.

Her face tightened. “In the vision, one of your men tried to kill me.”