by Nesa Miller
Feathers ruffled along her wings. “How could I forget? I wonder if you’d be so cool if Midir were still alive.”
His hands fell to his sides. “Breakfast…will give everyone an opportunity to cool down.”
She brought her wings in to her body with an audible snap. “I’ll be in the shower.”
Dar watched her stride from the room and turned in time to catch the smirk on Freeblood’s face. “Get dressed. Breakfast in thirty.”
Faux sat frozen on the edge of the bed. Freeblood rolled out of the covers, grabbed his pants from the floor, and yanked them on. “You seem surprised.” He walked around to offer a hand.
“I’m the demon, not her,” she muttered. “And what the hell happened to Dar?”
“We all have a little demon in us,” he said as a joke, but her lack of response changed his tone. “People change, which reminds me…” He raised a brow. “Nothing happened last night.”
“They don’t know that,” she smirked, slipping on her robe, back to her old self. “Tell me her reaction wasn’t worth it.”
He pulled on his shirt and waited at the door. “No more than yours.”
“Hmph. I tripped over your lame ass.”
Freeblood followed her out the door, muttering, “That’s me. The lame ass heathen.”
Dar had always taken great pride in his talents in the kitchen. With the explosive start to the morning, he considered it the perfect time to indulge himself and give everyone in the house time to settle down, especially Etain. With a generous portion of bacon under the oven grill, he stood poised at the counter, ready to dice onions, when he fell into a trance. Visions of the past leapt forward. A vast horde of Bok’Na’Ra riders crested a hill overlooking a castle he knew all too well, walls of dark stone shining in the morning’s light.
With a shake of his head, the image dissipated.
Soon, onions, peppers, tomatoes, and ham, mixed in a creamy concoction of whipped eggs, stood ready for their transformation into omelets. Pancakes with the sweet, spicy warmth of nutmeg brought back memories of his days as a boy in Krymeria. He laughed quietly, remembering his early morning forays into the castle kitchen in an attempt to beat the old chef at his own game. No matter how early the boy rose, the old Krymerian was always there, surrounded by the smell of fresh bread, bowl in hand, whipping up a delicious family breakfast.
You taught me many things, Ramsey.
After dotting the griddle with batter, he turned to slice strawberries into halves. A few made it to the dish, but the fragrance of their magical sweetness proved too irresistible for the High Lord.
Lips red with juice, Dar poured the omelet mixture into four separate pans. Off to the side, a pot of grits bubbled, while bread covered with egg batter sizzled on another griddle. With a spin, he was back to the pancakes, flipping each golden circle.
Enticing aromas announced Dar’s arrival before he stepped into the dining room, a large tray laden with food in his hands. Etain stared, Faux did her best to act nonchalant, and Freeblood licked his lips, rubbing his hands together.
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”
Dar set the tray down. Seeing Etain at the table was a good sign. Angry or not, she positively glowed. He took his seat at the head of the table, earlier events seemingly forgotten.
“I can’t possibly eat all this,” Etain grumbled.
“You don’t have to. I’ll take care of it.” Freeblood shoveled another forkful into his already full mouth.
Faux puzzled over one particular dish. “I didn’t realize grits were popular where you come from.”
Dar enjoyed a few bites, swallowed, and dabbed his lips with a napkin. “I’ve learned to appreciate a thing or two in my travels. They’re one of my favorites. Is that a problem?”
Faux stabbed her food with a fork and muttered, “Weird.”
Dar winked at Etain, who responded with a glib expression. “You appear to be a most generous employer.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” he said, reaching for his cup of coffee.
“Another holiday for the minions?” She snapped her napkin out and placed it across her lap. “And so soon after the last one,” she quipped, reaching for a piece of French toast.
His eyes crinkled with amusement. Deciding his coffee was still too hot, he lowered the cup and blew on it gently, the memory bright of the last meal he prepared for these incredible women after an artful transport to his abode…a summons, to be exact. In his haste, he had forgotten to mention his expected guests to the housekeeper, making it impossible to get a cook on such short notice, so Dar had prepared the dinner himself.
“The locals enjoy my laid-back style.” Finding the coffee now at a tolerable temperature, he took a sip.
Etain shot him a look. “They have a lot to learn.”
Their dining companions, busy with the morning fare, appeared oblivious to the private conversation.
Dar set down his cup and leaned toward her, placing a hand on her knee. “I thought it best to give us time to get used to each other and our new home without the hindrance of watchful eyes. The townsfolk are good people, but rather curious…” He squeezed her knee, “and talkative.”
“Oh, well…” She tried to act as though it was of little consequence. “Good thinking, I suppose.”
He sensed the mellowing of her anger and returned to his breakfast, contemplating the other two. “I trust you both slept well.”
Freeblood indulged in a sip of juice. “It was a good night.” The cool words did not sit well with the Krymerian…or the lady sitting on the other side of the table.
“Don’t count on having another one,” Etain said, casting a stern eye at Faux.
Faux brushed off the scowling faces. “Not that I don’t appreciate your saving my life, but I’m fine now. I feel great and I’m ready to get on with it.”
“We’ll have a proper discussion when Etain and I return from Laugharne,” Dar said.
Faux turned her black gaze to the Krymerian. “No. We will talk before you go.”
“I have a Council to sort out,” he answered. “We will talk after our return.”
“I don’t care about your stupid Council.” Faux slapped her napkin on the table. “Whatever you have to say can be said right here, right now. My life has been on hold long enough.”
Dar sat back, coffee in hand. “You will do as you’re told, and that’s the end of it.”
Faux pushed up from her chair, her tail snapping like a whip. “You will not treat me like a child. I took a sword through the gut for you, and I kept my mouth shut during the constant drivel from that mouse of a woman about being the perfect little cow.” She looked down at Dar. “Not to mention that I haven’t complained once about your conquest of my sister.”
He gently set the cup on the table. “We will talk later.”
Her eyes smoldered. “You look different, Dar.” Faux tilted her head toward Etain. “She is different. Did big bad Midir piss in your cornflakes?”
“Faux…,” Etain admonished, setting her fork and knife down.
“Shut your mouth.” Dar felt his casual demeanor deteriorating with every word. “I’ve heard his name more in death than I ever heard it in life.”
“Or what?” Faux challenged, puffed up in defiance.
Dar abruptly stood up and towered over the girl, forcing her back. “My gift is all that keeps me from sending you back to your island. Remember that.” He had the opportunity to catch her before she fell, but didn’t move. Freeblood shot out of his seat, reaching for her, but she landed hard on her ass. Dar turned his back on the commotion and walked around to Etain, whispering in her ear. “A chuisle, I promise we will handle this upon our return.” Eyes on the delinquent duo, he placed a kiss on her neck.
“Between the two of us, I think we’ve put the fear in them.” She pushed her chair back and walked to the door with him.
Dar stopped and looked back. “I’m afraid I cannot agree. Explore his mind and dip into
hers, then you’ll understand.”
She touched his cheek. “It appears we’ve switched places. What’s made you so angry?” He glanced over her shoulder and frowned. “Are you jealous?”
Whether he ignored the question or didn’t hear, he pulled away and strode back into the room.
Freeblood jumped to his feet. “Back off, Dar.”
“She carries my child.” His fist slammed down on the table, causing the dishes to rattle and jump.
“You have a funny way of showing concern for the mother of your child.”
“She’s not in any danger. However, the same cannot be said for you. I suggest you not act on those thoughts in your head. You will not like how it ends.”
“Your threats don’t scare me. She’s free to do as she pleas-”
Freeblood hit the floor before the fist to his jaw registered. A boot on his throat cut off his air supply.
“It is a promise, you insolent pup.” Dar ground his boot into his neck for emphasis. “Do not test me.” Releasing the boy, he stormed past Etain and out of the dining hall.
“Freeblood, listen to me and listen well.” Etain looked at her sister. “It would do you good to pay attention, too, Faux. Promises are a serious business with Dar. He doesn’t make them lightly, no matter how outlandish they may sound.”
Faux gently rubbed her bottom. “Since when did his Council become his pet project? I thought Midir-”
“Midir is dead.” Etain flexed her hands. “Dar is not a happy man. I have half a mind to beat you both myself.” With an angry flip of her hair, she stalked out of the room. “Keep your legs together for once, Faux.”
Freeblood touched his neck, wincing. “Now that was a button.”
Faux’s face reflected her shock at the mention of Midir’s death. The man had appeared at Laugharne, ready to take his brother’s life at any cost. Faux had saved Dar from a killing blow by stepping in front of Midir’s blade and, as a result, had spent the last few weeks in bed at Inferno’s, fighting for her life and the life of her unborn child.
Freeblood gave his interpretation of the story from what he had overheard since his arrival at the castle. About the only thing he could confirm was there had been a fight and Dar had returned a changed person.
“What’s your story, Faux? I’m having a little trouble putting it together.”
“It’s not too complicated. Dar couldn’t resist my charms.”
“Doesn’t look that way anymore.” He waited for an explosive reaction but received nothing more than a shrug. “And Midir?”
Faux sighed in resignation. “He’s dead and I’m not. That’s all that matters.”
“I guess I’m the new punching bag then.”
She rolled her eyes. “Neither of ‘em would ever hurt me or you.”
“You sure about that?” he asked, adjusting his jaw.
“Like he said, he gave me his baby.” Her hand circled over her stomach. “He wouldn’t do anything that might hurt his child.”
“You are a strange woman, Faux.”
She gave him a saucy smile and kissed him on the lips. “You love it.”
He snorted a laugh. “Strangely enough, you’re right. There is definitely something about you.”
Etain caught up with Dar in the courtyard. “What’s going on with you?”
“You know what,” he said, his anger still ablaze. “As if the High Council is not enough, that boy has betrayed our trust and flaunts his insolence.”
“No more than Faux.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Is it his arrogance? Or is it the fact he dallied with your mistress?”
The question made him stop. “What?”
“You heard me.” She raised her chin in a charade of strength, despite the fear thundering in her heart, afraid she had miscalculated his feelings. Maybe Midir was right after all. Maybe Faux means more to him because of the child she carries. “You’re making an awful lot of noise over a few dirty thoughts.”
“Etain…”
“Don’t! Don’t you dare say another thing about her condition. I'm trying to be strong, Dar. I am.” Her hands ran through her hair. “I bloody fucking am. Aye, they’re a handful, and I was ready to rip his head off, but after a long think in the shower, I realized that if Faux wants to be with him, she’ll be with him…or anyone else she chooses. Well, except you. You are off limits, which I hope she understands. However, I don’t know that you do.” She paced back and forth, angry tears in her eyes, incapable of standing in one place. “This anger of yours tells me you want to have your cake and eat it, too, so I’m telling you right now. I won’t live that way.”
She stopped in front of him, legs shoulder width apart and hands on her hips, shaking from the angst churning in the pit of her stomach. “I thought I could take it. I thought I was strong enough to watch another woman bear your child, even if she is my sister, but if you’re gonna play the jealous lover, I cannot. I will not. You decide right now. If you want Faux and the child she carries, let me go. I will not be your fool.” The words, spoken out loud, gave her a surreal sense of calm.
“Etain.” He moved toward her, but she avoided his touch. “My main concern is not for Faux, per se. I care, yes, just as I care for any member of my family. Can you not understand what this child means to me?” He watched her as she struggled to do just that. “You are my heart. I would travel to hell and back for you.”
“I feel like I’m already there,” she murmured. “You say the words, Dar.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “Just a few hours ago, you stripped me to the core before facing Midir. Yet you are completely blind in this?” His hands traveled down to capture hers. “We have a case of a wild child crossed with a wild card. There is nothing I can do about the child she carries, except remind you it is a part of me. I know I ask a lot, but I cannot do what needs to be done if we’re not of a like mind.”
His touch, his heat, his body so close made it difficult for her to remain distant. He has such power over me.
“I know you feel what I feel. Your heart is my heart.” He guided one of her hands up to his chest. “Look into me and see that it is true.” He pressed her hand against the mark they shared. “See me, Etain. Trust in what your heart tells you.”
She dared to delve into his golden gaze, to enter his mind left bare for her intimate scrutiny, to test the sincerity of his anguish. The heat of their shared mark warmed her palm.
“I see,” she whispered.
“Please, do not doubt who you are to me.” His voice was as soft as his caress of her cheek, but the depth of his conviction was indisputable.
“It’s all still new.”
“For me, it is a homecoming. I know you are where I belong. Forgive me for forgetting how different it is for you.”
The shadow of a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. “It’s crazy sometimes.”
He lifted her hands, kissing her fingertips. “I’m afraid it’s about to get worse. It’s time to face the music with the Council. Will you dance with me, my precious lady?”
She contemplated the question. “I am with you,” she said, pulling free from his grasp. “But where Faux is concerned, you have to be patient.”
“Like a saint, a chuisle. I promise.”
After a long kiss in the Laugharne courtyard, Dar and Etain parted. He watched her walk away, admiring the view as she strolled through the front doors into the castle. Voices came to him from the direction of the back garden, reminding him of the purpose of their return. He closed his eyes and breathed in the crisp morning air. The freshness of a new day bolstered his resolve to settle things with the Council, one way or another. Not in any particular rush, rather than walk around the side of the castle to the back garden, he made his way to the front doors, doing his best to delay the inescapable confrontation. His foot on the first step, another blinding vision pushed in.
Well-honed steel slicing through soft flesh; mirthless laughter overshadowing a woman’s screams for the lives o
f her children…
He stumbled up the steps, bringing up his hand to protect his face from the door. The phantoms faded with a ragged intake of breath. “Tartarus…”
He dragged himself through the house to the kitchen where Etain, Spirit, and Inferno were engrossed in conversation and nodded on his way to the back door.
“About bloody time,” Inferno muttered, watching him pass.
Dar paused at the door. Keep your cool and stay in control. The moment he stepped into the garden, an assault of questions began.
“Where have you been?”
“Why have we been kept waiting?”
“What right do you have to leave us here with no explanation?”
“Calm down. I’m here now,” he said, closing the door. “Let's get this done. I have other matters to attend to.”
“We are the only business that matters, Lord Darknight,” Savage hissed, moving to the forefront of the small band.
Pyro sidestepped, flanking Dar. “Who is this Midir we've heard about?”
Warden threw in another question, stepping to his other side. “Why did you share blood with another? You know it’s forbidden.”
“One question at a time...” Dar raised his hands and cast an eye on Pyro. “Midir was my brother.” He turned to Warden. “It is my blood to share as I please, but as you have asked so eloquently, it was done to save someone dear to me.”
Without warning, another vision came out of nowhere.
A small boy strapped to a table, the familiar knife slicing long lines into the child's flesh, the boy crying for his father.
Dar’s body quaked in reaction to the atrocity, recognizing the child as his long-dead son, Henri.
“What business is so important that you neglect your duties to the clan?” Pyro asked. “Where have you been all this time?”
His initial look at the man was blank. It was not Pyro he saw, but a man with his head on fire and blood on his hands…Henri’s blood. The vision refused to go away.
The dagger dug in deeper, stripping the flesh from the small body.
The rush of pleasure he felt turned his stomach.
