by RJ Metcalf
Her jaw was open slightly, her eyes wide and a blush riding high on her cheeks. She licked her lips, a silent stammer, then she lifted her hand, sliding it behind his head, her touch slow, soft, unsure. Fire traced every nerve that her skin brushed, and he sucked in a ragged breath, tipping his face down to meet hers. Soft lips met his, and he wanted to melt and seize all at once.
He’d never wanted a woman so badly before.
He controlled the kiss as best he could, keeping it as simple and chaste as possible, not wanting it to go further than it already was. He wouldn’t take what wasn’t his. Only what was freely offered.
Samantha broke for air first, and she bit her bottom lip as she gripped his arms, hiding her face while she caught her breath. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss against her forehead, buying himself a moment to gather his self-control.
She was too important to take for granted, and there was no way he was going to let her feel insecure, not if he could help it.
He should probably be a bit concerned, she was becoming too important, too fast. But he wasn’t about to quit pursuing her. He squeezed her arms and stepped back, motioning to the shelves and boxes they hadn’t gotten to yet. “We should, uh, make sure the work gets done, I suppose.”
Samantha turned, but not before he saw the small smile that curled her lips—lips he’d just kissed—and she nodded. “Sounds like a good plan.” She peeked over her shoulder at him. “Thank you.”
She turned away before he could nod. He’d have to tell his sisters about her soon. Not yet, but soon. He’d want their approval soon.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Clara
Watching Lady Sapphire unwind out of the view of the royal family was a source of amusement that Clara would never tire of. Today Sapphire twirled through her sitting room, hairbrush raised to her mouth as she sang with off-key gusto.
Clara tried to ignore her friend so she could finish writing her letter, but Sapphire capered behind and bumped her hip into Clara’s chair. “Sing with me!”
Two drops of ink splattered on the page, and Clara uttered a short curse under her breath. “Let me finish this first.”
Her ladyship dropped into a chair next to Clara and twisted to look at her paper. Clara stifled a chuckle and turned the correspondence sideways so Sapphire could read it. There was nothing to hide in a letter to her mother.
“I haven’t written her in over a month, so it’s long overdue for me to reach out.” Clara explained as she pulled the ivory stack back. She shrugged and twitched her eyebrow with a bitter smile. “We’re coming up to the anniversary.”
Sapphire leaned back, grunted, then straightened, touching a hand on her corset. “Has it already been another year?”
“Six years, can you believe it?”
Even now, Clara clearly remembered watching her father leave, his broad shoulders dwarfing the doorway as he promised to be back as soon as the battle was won. He joked that he couldn’t leave Captain Stohner to claim all the glory alone. Neither man returned.
Sapphire’s sigh broke Clara’s brief reverie. Clara took a sip of tangy peach tea and looked down at what she’d written, then pushed it to the center of the polished table.
“I’ll finish it later.” She smiled ruefully. “I already know what she’ll reply with too. By now she’ll have heard of your close call, and she’ll ask a half dozen questions on how you’re doing now. Then she’ll ask about Adeline. Then she’ll ask if I’m going to get married yet.”
Sapphire picked up the dagger shaped letter opener and twirled it in her fingers. “Well, you can tell her that I’m recovering faster than anyone here will admit to. Adeline is growing bigger by the day and doesn’t handle teething well. As for getting married”—Sapphire cocked her head, crimson curls cascading to the side of her neck—“when are you going to?”
Heat infused Clara’s cheeks, and she stood to look out the window. Her fault for bringing up the topic. “I don’t know.” Clara crossed her arms as she leaned against the window frame. She glanced at Sapphire then over to the large hearth. “If we marry, we’ll be forced to retire as your bodyguards.”
“Only if we follow that archaic law.” Sapphire shrugged a shoulder sheathed in the color of her namesake. “Brandon and I have talked it over before. Neither of us think there will be a problem in regards to loyalty changes. You’ve been in this long term loose courtship, or whatever it is, for over a year now, and it hasn’t affected your competence or dedication.” She smiled at Clara. “If anything, I’d say it’s helped motivate both of you all the more.”
Sapphire tapped the blade of the letter opener on the table and bit her lip. “Actually, thinking of, I want to go to one of the discus tournaments. Maybe Brandon and I will leave you with Andre to babysit Adeline?”
Clara gaped. “Are you serious? You were nearly assassinated a month ago! We had citizens trying to picket outside the royal gate for Prince Richard and Princess Violet’s wedding. And you want to go out into the midst of them?”
Calm blue eyes met her incredulous stare. “We can take Zane with us. Maybe his siblings too, just so we blend in a bit better. The tournament is in our city, I love the sport, and it’s too good an opportunity to pass up.”
I take it back, Andre. She’s crazy.
“Logistically, I—”
“Clara. I’m going to die within these walls if I stay cooped up too much longer.”
Clara snorted a laugh. “Exaggeration.” What a stubborn friend. She knew it from the moment they’d first met as young girls, but this proved that some people didn’t really change. “Tell you what. You get Brandon to agree to this idea, and then we’ll figure out how to make it work.”
“Deal.” Sapphire set down the letter opener she’d been holding and bounced up from the table. She hesitated then turned to look at Clara. “Do you really think I’m still in danger?”
Clara drew herself up to sit formally. “M’lady, I have no idea. And I’m not about to risk your life needlessly.” She shook her head. “You’re the breath of fresh air that this palace and kingdom needs, and to lose you would be a blow that none here could endure.” She pursed her lips. “And I’m not about to go through the fear of nearly losing my best friend, again.”
Sapphire’s nodded soberly. “Here’s to hoping that you won’t have to experience that for a very, very long time.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Finn
Finn wanted nothing more than to be home.
Finn feared nothing more than to be home.
They’d asked if he was Finneous. They were expecting him to some degree. Were they there for Connor, and had been warned to avoid Finn? Or were they there for Finn? Had his presence gotten his son and daughter-in-law killed?
Anguish twisted Finn’s heart, and he ducked his head from the sunlight, struggling to rein in his emotions. He’d mourned on the journey, and he’d mourn for the next several years, just as he’d done for his wife. But he had to focus on the here, the now. Survival. The barrier.
Did they know where he lived? The envelope had the royal crest on it. Was it real? A forgery?
Finn tightened his grasp on Raine. Was he taking her into danger? Should he abandon everything, flee this life completely? What was best for her?
What was best for her was that the barrier stayed up. He had to get back to Doldra.
They were finally on a direct path to home after spending two days riding to the west and through the river, then backtracking to the northeast. They crossed the river again a few miles back, and they rode parallel to the water now. Finn could only hope and pray that if they were somehow followed that they’d shaken them, and that by avoiding the roads and any other travelers, they’d be able to sneak into Doldra without alerting anyone who might be watching for them.
Mercifully, traveling with Raine was a smidge less stressful than Finn had anticipated. Where Connor had been a baby who cried when bored, cried when dirty, cried when hungry, cried when tired, Raine
was quiet. Almost always. She stared at the world around her, squirmed when dirty, moaned when hungry, and slept when she was tired. It was almost eerie.
Maria had stocked up on goat’s milk when they’d found Raine, and now Raine was starting to eat solid foods too, so the logistics of her sustenance were easily taken care of. Finn had packed a few jars of the milk from Maria’s pantry and offered the softest parts of his meal to her when they ate. He made a mental note to find a nanny goat for her when they got home.
Even if they were followed, he had to stop home and get the stones. That was imperative.
Pushing aside low pine branches, he broke through a hedge of trees to enter the back area of Finn’s home. Zucchini, broccoli, tomatoes, onions, carrots, and beets took up half the magically aided garden on one side. The other side of the garden had herbs of all types—sage, rosemary, yarrowroot, feverfew, chickweed, slippery elm, lavender, and more. Finn smiled at the sight of his plants thriving despite summer.
“Looks like the boys did a good job keeping it weeded and watered, huh Spook?” He murmured to Raine. She didn’t reply at all but to yawn and blink her black eyes at him. He’d nicknamed her Spook after the second day on the road, once he realized just how eerie and spooky a quiet baby was for a traveling companion. A blessing, to be sure, especially when on the run, but still unnatural.
He nudged his horse into a trot again and led her around to the side of the house to the stable. She led herself into the familiar pen, nickering with what Finn imagined was happiness to be home. Clutching Raine to his dust-covered shirt, he dismounted with a quiet thud on the soft ground.
After four days of being on the road with a baby, fleeing from death, mourning loss, and being unsure if danger was following them, Finn’s nerves were shot to the Void. He pulled out a match, lit it, and focused it into a flaming ball.
He wasn’t going to be taking any chances today. And if it meant entering his own house with a fireball in one hand and a baby in the other, so be it.
Granted, once he reached the front door, he had to remind himself that if he had a baby in one hand and a fireball in the other, that left him with no hands to unlock and open the front door. He let the fireball sputter out with a shake of his hand.
“I guess that idea is out, isn’t it?” Finn chuckled down at Raine. She yawned again, tears swimming in the corners of her tiny eyes. She raised her fist to her mouth and sucked on it, watching him.
Finn sighed as he fished his simple key from its chain around his neck. He slipped it into the keyhole and turned it, while reminding himself that he had released the magic alarm before he left so Slate and Zane wouldn’t get snarled in his thorny intruder trap. Finn used his worn boot to push the door open slowly as he peered in.
His blood ran cold.
Something had happened here. The room was devoid of most the furniture, and the pictures were gone. Gouges and scrapes on the floor told a story of some sort of battle. He stepped into his house and pushed the door shut. Even walking as quietly as he could, his steps sounded ominously loud.
The faint scent of fire added to Finn’s disquiet. He pulled another match from his vest and used it to spark a fresh fireball back to his fingers, wanting both the illumination and the weapon at hand. He rounded his shoulders over Raine as he walked through his house, aware that if he was attacked at any moment in time, her life would be, at best, endangered, at worst, forfeit. He hated that he had no choice but to bring her with him.
A new curtain hung in the bathroom, and half the kitchen cupboards had new hinges or doors. The kitchen also had a unique disgusting scent of onion and pickles that made no sense to him. His room had a new bed in it as well as a new nightstand, and his chest of drawers looked scuffed and bent.
It wasn’t until Finn reached his office that the faint scent of smoke made sense, and the damage to his house even more apparent than he’d imagined. He gawked at his shattered desk for a half second before coming to his senses and bounding across the room. His knees protested as he dropped on them in his haste. He kept Raine nestled secure in his left arm as he pressed against a board in the floor where his desk had been standing for the last five years. It popped open without a sound and revealed its secret—empty.
“Whales above and below the Void!” Finn cursed vehemently. A little moan from his arms reminded him that he just swore in front of his granddaughter. He whispered an apology and brushed his lips against her head, his mind racing.
They had been after him. Connor and Maria died because of him. And whomever it was had found the very things that could kill everyone.
All his notes on the barrier. The bloodstone that could take it down.
Finn sat on the floor, absently rocking his body back and forth as he thought. Who was “the Master”? What did he want with all this? Could Finn find him in time? Stop him?
The lodestone!
He scrambled to his feet, aches and pains forgotten in his panic. He skidded out the doorway and into the kitchen and dropped to his knees again in front of the cold storage box. Gently setting Raine down on the floor next to him, Finn opened the small cabinet below the cold storage and blindly reached as far back into it as he could. His fingers scrabbled against the wood and pulled at the board he knew to be loose. He popped it open with a grunt, then pressed his face against the cupboard frame as he stretched his fingers out, feeling for—here! A heavy ring fell into his hand and he pulled it out with a relieved gasp.
Praise the Author! The Void-cursed whales didn’t get this at least.
Finn slipped the unassuming black ring on his finger, hoping it wouldn’t attract undue attention. He hadn’t worn any sort of jewelry for so long, he wouldn’t put it past sharp-eyed Zane, or even Slate, to notice it. He leaned against the cabinetry with a heavy sigh, scanning the room for what details he’d missed in his initial haste. He’d miss his house, his shop. But there was no way he could stay in Doldra. Not when his family was dead, and some unknown maniac was loose with the bloodstone. And Raine. He couldn’t risk her.
But he couldn’t just leave either. Someone had his bloodstone, which meant that the barrier was at risk.
Raine rolled over on the floor, a large gummy smile on her face. She reached a chubby hand out, fingers falling short of grasping a piece of paper. Finn picked it up and gave it a cursory glance, then stopped to read it.
It was a short note from Slate and Zane, apologizing over the state of his house and telling him to find Zane’s sister, Zandra, at the Crimson Hawk as soon as he was home. She would be able to alert them immediately that Finn was back and they could come talk then.
Leaning against the storage wall behind him, Finn allowed himself a moment of exhaustion. His body ached with the soreness of digging graves, riding for four days, holding a baby in his arms for four days, and expending the strength required for magic. Mentally, he was just as exhausted. Four days of travel with a baby meant four days of not very restful nights in addition to his thoughts plaguing him night and day as he turned over every little scrap of evidence and memory for a clue. Every breath brought agony to his soul as his mind replayed the light leaving Connor’s eyes.
And here he was, sitting on the floor of his kitchen, covered in road dust, in the same brown pants and tan shirt he had dressed in when he left Connor and Maria’s house burning to the ground. Raine lay on the floor, road dust changing her hair from black to an ashy blonde. Her head drooped, and she started sucking her thumb—her sign for needing a nap. Somehow, he’d have to get to the inn to talk to Slate and Zane, and without drawing attention to his return. The barrier was in danger, and he had to be close to it all times now. He had to find a different place to live, and a live-in nanny for Raine.
A crazy idea popped into Finn’s mind as he stared at his granddaughter. He knew how to get into the Crimson Hawk without anyone seeing him walk in with a baby.
* * *
Finn dismounted his horse, careful to not jostle the heavy bag slung across his body. He’d skip
ped visiting his shop, opting to go straight to the Hawk. Tugging his dusty shirt straight, Finn hoped he’d have the appearance of just another weary pilgrim traveling through the inn. He entered the building and looked around the gleaming wooded tables, hoping to miraculously see Slate or Zane already there. An empty table to the right had a half-eaten meal and mug on it, two other tables had people sitting and eating.
A young red-headed woman behind the counter called out without looking, “Be right with you!” She stopped to look up and stared. “Finn?”
Finn blinked and smiled, shifting the bag on his shoulder. “Garnet?”
She stepped out from behind the bar, drying her hands on the apron covering her flowing green skirt. “I heard what happened at home. I’m so sorry. Wait right here, Zane is actually in the back right now. And I’ll glow Slate, although he should be here soon anyways.” Garnet scurried to the kitchen door and disappeared behind it calling out for Zane.
“I see you got our message.” The voice was low and completely unexpected, appearing right behind Finn. He jumped and spun around, hand reaching to the fireplace to pull a fireball to his fingertips just as his mind took note of the dark hair, hoop earring, green eyes, and black leather armor. Finn quickly dropped his hand in embarrassment, hoping desperately that no one saw it. Thankfully, no one seemed to be looking in their direction.
