Harlequin Nocturne May 2016 Box Set

by Susan Krinard

  Tibor rose to his feet, his suave manner unruffled. “So we must part company again, Princess.” He turned to Lorcan. “You have my word that you will be safe in my waters, my friend.”

  “Thank you.” Lorcan did his best to sound gracious. It was difficult through clenched teeth. He could keep telling himself this wasn’t about jealousy. He might even succeed in convincing himself.

  “There is one small problem, however.” Wouldn’t you just know it? Tibor beckoned Lorcan and Tanzi over to a large, gilt-framed map that occupied most of one wall. It was a chart of the islands of the Vampire Archipelago, more detailed than those Cal had provided for them. The prince tapped one manicured fingernail against the northernmost island. “I cannot vouch for the obedience of the inhabitants of this island.”

  “Who are they?”

  “The Loup Garou.”

  Lorcan raised his brows. “I am surprised to learn any of their number reside within your jurisdiction, Highness.”

  “They are a bloody nuisance.” The civilized veneer slipped slightly as Tibor’s frustration showed. “As you know, the Loup Garou have the body of a wolf, but the fangs and bloodlust of a vampire. They are also possessed of magical powers akin to those of a warlock. Several centuries ago, a breakaway group decided they wished to be classed as vampires, not wolves. After lengthy negotiations, I ceded them this island, now known simply as Garou. In recent years their descendants have decided they no longer wish to accept my authority.”

  “I suspect they will come to regret their defiance.”

  Tibor’s smile was enough to give a grown man nightmares. “Your suspicions will be proved correct. Unfortunately, that will not happen in time for the completion of your journey.” He traced a route between the island of Garou and a larger body of land with his fingertip. “This the Wallachia Channel. You will be forced to traverse it in order to reach the open seas. The Loup Garou have been known to cause problems for travelers along this passage.”

  “Thank you for the warning, Highness.”

  Tibor bowed over Tanzi’s hand once more. “Remember what I said, Princess.”

  “What did he say?” Lorcan demanded as soon as the dinghy was skimming across the bay and they were safe from prying ears. He cringed at his own neediness. I sound like a jealous teenager whose prom date has just danced with another guy. The large flashlight he had placed in the bottom of the small craft lit up Tanzi’s face. Her expression was serene, and her long hair blew out behind her like a streamer.

  “That he still wanted to marry me. He made me promise to answer him next time I saw him.”

  “I see.” He bent over the engine, pretending it needed his attention. Anything rather than let her see the hurt in his eyes.

  “No you don’t.” Tanzi caught hold of his arm, forcing him to look at her. “Don’t you dare be all agonized and noble about this, Lorcan. How could you possibly think I would say that to Tibor and mean it? I said it to buy us time, to get our safe passage. For God’s sake, we both know I’m never going to see Tibor again.”

  “I’m sorry.” He placed an arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “I just can’t bear the thought of that leech putting his hands anywhere near you.”

  “He didn’t touch me. Well, only to kiss my hand once or twice. Although—” she cast him a sidelong glance “—he couldn’t hide his fangs.”

  The corners of his mouth turned down in a brief expression of disgust. “The vampire equivalent of a raging hard-on. Fucking pervert.” He turned away, watching the sleek, white outline of Igraine loom closer in the darkness. Drawing a breath, he asked the question that had been bothering him all night. “Although...is Tibor such a poor deal? Wouldn’t marriage to him be preferable to life as a Valkyrie?”

  She didn’t answer and he wondered if she’d heard him. When he turned to face her, she was looking away so he was unable to read her expression. When she finally did speak, her voice was low. “I don’t love Tibor.”

  “I thought you couldn’t feel love?”

  She shifted position so that her face was turned up toward his. It made no difference. He still couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

  “Turns out I was wrong about that.”

  * * *

  Lorcan viewed the Wallachia Channel with misgivings. Although the entrance to the passage was wide, he could see far enough along its route to observe how it rapidly narrowed. High cliffs rose like sheer walls on each side so that it looked as if he would be able to lean over Igraine’s side and touch the rocky surface as they passed. Although the water out here in the open was calm, within the strait it churned wildly like the inside of a washing machine. He might as well don a blindfold and take the boat into a cave. He had no idea what might be waiting for them around each twist and turn of the tight channel.

  “Can’t we sail around the island of Garou?” Tanzi came to stand beside him.

  “I checked the charts again this morning. Tibor is right. To get to the open seas to Spae, we must navigate this channel. All around the coastline of Garou there are hidden and treacherous rocks. They’d rip Igraine’s belly out if we risked it.”

  “I don’t understand why we must actually go to Spae. I thought that was a story you thought up on the spur of the moment to tell Tibor?”

  “It was, but do you seriously think he won’t check up on us?” He gave Tanzi a moment to assimilate the question and shake her head. “Besides, the Spae are the very people to help us with the rest of our route.”

  And with my search for the true King of the Faeries. With any luck, they would tell him King Ivo’s mystery descendant had never existed or was dead. That way he could forget this needle-in-a-haystack quest of Cal’s and shake off the feeling that he was betraying Tanzi’s trust.

  “Have you met with the Spae before?” Tanzi looked surprised. “I thought they were an insular race.”

  “They are.” He hoped she wouldn’t notice the way he avoided the question. All the other times he’d been to Spae, his approach had been a damn sight easier than this. He’d taken the direct route straight through a portal from the mortal realm to the Isle of Spae. He viewed the channel again. Was he really going to take them in there with no idea of the depth of the water, the wind speed or what hazards lay in wait for them? His stomach tightened with a combination of nerves and excitement. “Grab yourself a life jacket, Searc, this is going to be a white-knuckle ride.”

  Lorcan approached the channel slowly, maneuvering Igraine into the entrance with care. The boat met the harsh slap of the first waves valiantly as he guided it between the looming rocky walls. From his experiences in the fishing boats as a boy, he knew there was a difference between this and meeting steep waves out in the open. Even the most minor miscalculation on his part could send Igraine crashing into the cliffs. Once they had entered the passage there was no turning back.

  “Okay?” He had to shout to Tanzi to be heard above the rush of sound all around them, and she nodded, clinging to the back of the seat, her face strained as she stared ahead at the roiling waters. The waves slapped the boat’s sides and the channel acted as a funnel for the wind, driving the spray into their faces and robbing them of their breath. Igraine mounted each wave, running down the crest and gathering speed as she prepared to meet the back side of the next wave. Burying her bow in the oncoming wave, she was slewed hard by the resistance of the wall of water and would have veered sharply off toward the cliffs if Lorcan had not maintained an iron grip on the wheel. The deeper into the channel they went, the more of his strength it took to keep them on a straight course.

  Tanzi’s hand grasped his arm hard. Although her lips moved, any sound she made was whipped away by the wind. She pointed up at the cliffs ahead of them. Half closing his eyes against the spray, he followed the line of her finger. Dark shapes were crouched on rocky outcrops that hung low over the water. The Loup Ga
rou were watching their progress. Could this day get any worse?

  It seemed it could. As they drew level with the first of the Loup Garou, the wolflike figure swung himself down from the rock, landing easily on the deck.

  “You’ve done this before, haven’t you, big guy?” Lorcan asked, observing the way the loup’s body rolled easily with the motion of the boat. Fangs the thickness of Tanzi’s wrist flashed in something close to a grin. Not wanting to worry Tanzi unduly, Lorcan weighed up the situation. The Loup Garou were undead, meaning he could control them. But in order to do so he would need to concentrate solely on them. Not an easy task while he was trying to stop the waves from battering Igraine against the rocks. As these thoughts were passing through his mind, another of the Loup Garou dropped onto the deck.

  “You keep hold of the wheel. I’ll take care of these two.” Tanzi had to press her lips up against his ear to be heard. Then she was away, doing what she did so well. Gripping the mast for added leverage, she swung both feet off the ground, catching the first loup firmly under the chin. Staggering back, he looked mildly surprised, but didn’t go down. Instead, his wolfish smile deepened as he beckoned Tanzi closer.

  “Bring it on, little girl.” His growl was loud enough to be heard over the clamor. “You want to play rough? We like it rough.”

  “Tanzi, get back over here!”

  Whether she didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him, Lorcan didn’t know. He muttered a curse—several curses—as Tanzi clambered onto the back of the bench seat and launched herself at the grinning loup. He knew what her tactics would be. Eyes and balls. Street fighter tactics. By the way the loup was reeling back, she’d managed to implement part one of the plan and, clinging to him like a limpet, was already gouging at his eyes. Would she have time to get him down and kick him in the balls before his companion got to her? Lorcan’s nerves were strained to the point of breaking as he tried to watch what was going on while at the same time steer the boat through the ever-narrowing channel. Despite his annoyance at her determination to place herself at risk, he felt a fierce sense of pride. God, she was amazing. His little warrior princess was bringing that huge wolf to his knees. Sure enough, her foot connected solidly with the loup’s groin. Lorcan gave a wince of male solidarity, even as he applauded Tanzi’s strategy. The loup collapsed in a groaning heap on the deck. From his posture and the way he was clutching between his legs, he wouldn’t be getting up again anytime soon.

  Just then, the boat lurched through a particularly high wave, distracting Lorcan and throwing Tanzi off balance. She stumbled against the deck rail and was caught in the grasp of the other Loup Garou. Having seen what had happened to his friend, this one was taking no chances. Holding her at arm’s length by the back of her shirt, he shook Tanzi as easily as if she was a rag doll.

  “Stay at the wheel!” Tanzi’s cry told Lorcan she knew exactly what he intended.

  The end of the channel was in sight. He could see the calmer, open waters ahead. If only Tanzi could hold out against the loup who now had her pinned up against the cabin wall by her throat. Lorcan could see her hands flailing wildly as she tried to grapple with him.

  “Oflinnan.” In desperation, he hurled the halt command at the Loup Garou. But his focus was impaired by everything else that was going on and the word had no effect. As the loup smashed its fist into Tanzi’s ribs and she screamed in pain, Lorcan knew he had no choice. He released the wheel. “Hang in there, Igraine, sweetheart.”

  With yards left before they reached the end of the channel, he grabbed a coil of rope from the deck and skidded across the wet boards. Snagging a loop of rope around the neck of the loup, he pulled it tight. It worked like a charm and the loup instantly released Tanzi. She dropped like a stone onto the deck while the creature tore wildly at the rope around its neck with both hands. Preoccupied as he was with keeping a grip on the rope, Lorcan still had time to notice Tanzi’s pallor and the fact that she stayed down rather than coming to his aid.

  “Oflinnan. Do it now, you loup bastard.” Usually when he issued the command, he made sure to keep his voice level. This time he could feel the rage trembling through every syllable. Obediently, the Loup Garou froze.

  Shaking with a combination of rage and relief, Lorcan fell to his knees beside Tanzi. She was alive, but her breathing was shallow and he could see the angry red imprints of the loup’s fingers on the tender flesh of her throat. As he cradled her against his chest, she opened her eyes.

  “The wheel...” It was a whispered croak, but it made him look up and take stock of what was happening around them.

  He was just in time to see Igraine give a final bound through the last waves as she broke free of the channel and crashed out into the open sea beyond. It was almost as if the boat had listened and obeyed him when he urged her on. But even Cal couldn’t do that. Could he? There was no time to ponder the matter. Scooping Tanzi up into his arms, he carried her down into the cabin, depositing her carefully on the bed.

  “Give me one minute. I need to get rid of our uninvited guests, then I’ll be back to take care of you.”

  It probably took less than a minute to tip the two Loup Garou over the side of the boat and run back down the steps into the cabin. Nevertheless, while he was gone, Tanzi had managed to get up and go into the bathroom so that she could examine the damage to her ribs. Lorcan felt cold, impotent fury rip through him again as he viewed the angry red marks ravaging her pale skin. Without the protection of her life jacket, she’d probably have been killed.

  He soaked a towel under the faucet and held it against her side. Tanzi sucked in her breath sharply, catching her lower lip between her teeth. “I’d like to go and drag those two back out of the water just so I could make them pay for every bruise.”

  “Could you get me a glass of water instead?” Her voice still sounded as if she’d gargled with broken glass, but she managed to smile. “And then maybe help me out of these wet clothes?”

  It was only much later, when he sat on the bed next to her as she slept, that he paused to examine his feelings in that moment on the deck when he didn’t know if she was alive. It had felt as if his chest was being cut open with a rusty saw and his heart torn, still beating, from the cavity. And I’m going to do it all over again by voluntarily letting her go when we reach Valhalla. What kind of idiot does that make me? He already knew the answer. The worst kind.

  CHAPTER 16

  The Isle of Spae was a patchwork of gold and green, an enchanting landscape of rocky hillocks, dazzling white sands and wind-tossed turquoise waters.

  “What awaits us here?” Tanzi viewed the blue-and-white bird-filled skies with a feeling that was as close to fear as she ever came. Nowhere could live up to the perfection this place promised.

  “Hopefully, a chance for you to rest and recuperate.” Lorcan steered the dinghy into the secluded bay. Springing lightly onto the stony shore, he reached out a hand to assist her. Tanzi followed him, aware of every aching muscle. Although two days had passed since her encounter with the loup, the bruises to her ribs were still painful and her throat, although healing, remained raw.

  “No wolves?”

  “No Loup Garou. But there are real wolves in the forests.” He smiled, drawing her to his side and pressing his lips to her temple. Gratefully, Tanzi leaned against him, enjoying his strength and the muscular warmth of his body. He released her so that he could haul the boat farther up onto dry land. Grabbing the bag he had packed, he took Tanzi’s hand. “Come on, they know how to look after their visitors on Spae.”

  They followed the rugged sweep of the beach, their progress watched by stags on the hillside, otters gamboling at the edge of a small lake and golden eagles swooping down from the higher crags. When they reached the far side of the bay, Lorcan took an inland route toward rolling hills. As their path led them into a deep valley, Tanzi caught a glimpse of white-walled, thatc
hed cottages in the distance. Drawing closer, she could see horse-drawn carts in the fields, barefoot children playing on the grassy square in front of the houses and women carrying pails of water. Laughter, happy chatter and the smell of cooking filled the air.

  “Welcome to the Isle of Spae.” Lorcan was watching her face.

  She felt the tension ooze out of her body. “Who are these people?”

  “They are the Spae folk.”

  “I hadn’t heard of them until you spoke of them a few days ago.” There was a tangible sense of community about the place. The women were the focal point. Working together to prepare and cook a meal over a large open fire in the center of the green, they managed to watch over the children, issue instructions and tend the livestock at the same time. Their clothing belonged to another century, and there was no sign that the trappings of modern life had encroached upon their village.

  “They are the descendants of the ancient Celtic race of Spae-wives, women who possess all the supernatural wisdom and power, but lack the malevolent spirit, of witches. They were persecuted in the mortal realm, hunted and burned as witches during medieval times until they were forced to take up refuge here in Otherworld. They keep to themselves here on Spae, refusing to interact with, or swear allegiance to, any of the dynasties. This is a matriarchal clan. The women are in charge. They are skilled in medicine and surgery. They deal in healing, dreams, foresight and second-sight, and in preventing the influence of evil and witchcraft.”

  “It sounds like heaven.” Tanzi spoke the words with feeling. After the tension of their visit to Tibor followed by the skirmish with the Loup Garou, Spae seemed like a haven of peace that was almost too good to be true.

  They had reached the edge of the village green now, and one of the women looked up as if sensing their approach. “Lorcan!”

  She cast aside the vegetables she had been chopping and, gathering up her long skirts, ran to greet him. Throwing her arms around his neck, she hugged him tightly, kissing him first on one cheek then the other, over and over. Before long she had been joined by several other women and most of the children. Tanzi found herself in the middle of an excited, chattering group.