“She couldn’t join the Valkyrie. Not after the Norn had told her she was carrying your child.”
“What?” Lorcan could hardly believe what he was hearing.
“Yes, my sister, the faerie princess. Carrying the child of a hybrid sorcerer! A renegade with no people of his own. How proud she must be.” Vashti’s lips drew back in a sneer.
“Wait...are you telling me she hasn’t joined the Valkyrie?”
“Of course not. Do you think they would take a pregnant warrior? Brynhild told Tanzi she must leave Gladsheim at once, before Odin learned of her effrontery.”
Lorcan ran a hand through his hair, his brain refusing to fully process what he had just heard. “My God, you mean she’s out there somewhere, all alone?”
Jethro spoke in Vashti’s ear. “If you drop the dagger I’ll let you go.” She debated her options. Muttering a curse, she let the knife fall to the floor. Releasing her, Jethro bent to pick it up before turning to Lorcan. “I’m not even going to pretend I understand any of this, but what danger is Tanzi facing right now?”
“Moncoya will go after her. He wants her to marry the devil.”
“So we have to find her before he does?” With his usual quick wits, Jethro managed to sum up the situation in a few succinct words.
Lorcan threw him a grateful look. “Not a minute to lose.”
Vashti stepped closer, her burst of temper forgotten. “I’m coming with you.”
“Daddy’s little spy? I don’t think so.” Jethro shook his head.
Vashti’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but Lorcan intervened before she could respond. “She might be useful. Vashti and Tanzi can communicate telepathically.” He glanced up at the castle. “If Moncoya is after her, there’s one other person we need.”
Jethro nodded. “The sooner we get Cal, the sooner we can set off.”
* * *
When Tanzi explained why she could not join the Valkyrie, Brynhild had surprised her. The Valkyrie leader’s expression had taken on a faraway look, as though she was recalling memories of her own.
“You are not the first, and you won’t be the last woman to be faced with a choice between love and duty. I envy the outcome you have reached.” A gleam of humor had entered her eyes. “But the Allfather will not be as sympathetic, so you must leave Gladsheim as soon as possible.”
When Brynhild offered her an escort to take her anywhere she wanted to go, there was only one place Tanzi could think of. It was dawn when the boat Brynhild provided arrived at Spae, and the island looked as inviting as ever with the sunlight dispersing the early-morning mists. Tanzi had been slightly worried that Lorcan might also have chosen to come here, but she remembered his words. This was the one place he avoided if he could. She drew in a cleansing breath of sea air as the sand crunched under her feet. This is where I want to raise my child...if my father will only leave me in peace to do so.
Ailie greeted her with a hug and a mug of steaming tea. The older woman listened in silence as they sat on the grass on the village green and Tanzi told her story. Only when she had finished did Ailie speak. “Lorcan spoke to me of this challenger for your father’s crown when you stayed here. It was eating away at him that he had not told you of it.”
“So why didn’t he do so?”
Ailie sighed. “It was the age-old story. A secret gone too far. At first he didn’t tell you because you were never going to need to know. You would be gone from this world before it mattered. By the time he realized how important you were to him, the secret had become too big to tell.” She gave Tanzi a sidelong glance. “Men don’t always get it right, you know.”
“But the Norn told me he knows the identity of the challenger. If that’s the case, he must have been working hard behind my back to discover it. And then he kept it hidden from me.”
Ailie shook her head so hard that her curls flew wildly about her face. “He does not. I know nothing about the Norn, but I know Lorcan. He didn’t put much effort into finding the challenger precisely because he knew it would hurt you. He has not discovered who the true heir is.” She patted Tanzi’s hand. “And I know how much he loves you. And, for Lorcan, love is not something that came easily. Or something that might ever have come at all.”
Tanzi felt sharp tears sting her eyelids. “Ailie, what does Searc mean?” It was a question that had occurred to her on the journey from Valhalla. Lorcan had been so insistent about his love for her. That speech he had made begging her not to join the Valkyrie had really mattered, she was sure of it. At the time, through the haze of her damaged pride, the depth of his emotion had had not penetrated her hurt. Now doubt buzzed away in her consciousness like a persistent wasp.
Ailie wrinkled her nose. “Searc? It means nothing. Not on its own. A chéadsearc, that means ‘my first love,’ and a rúnsearc means ‘my secret love.’” She looked at Tanzi in alarm. “Why are you laughing?”
Tanzi shook her head, unable to explain. Lorcan had called her Searc back in Barcelona. Had she been his first and secret love even then? It doesn’t matter. I sent him away. I told him I didn’t love him in return. I broke his heart all over again. The laughter turned to tears. She leaned on Ailie’s shoulder and cried as though her own heart would break, as well.
“There will always be a home for you and the child here on Spae.”
Drying her eyes, Tanzi sat up straight. “I wouldn’t wish my father on you. He will come looking for me now I no longer have the protection of Cal’s spells. A visit from him would rip this island apart.”
Ailie was looking beyond her—at the path that led from the beach—her eyes widening. “I think it may be too late.”
Tanzi turned her head with a sense of dread. As out of place as an orchid in a field of wildflowers, Moncoya was striding toward them. Even in his haste, his sartorial flair had not been forgotten and he wore pristine white riding breeches tucked into highly polished black boots. A long-tailed coat of burgundy velvet hung open over his signature ruffled shirt and his mane of hair streamed behind him in the breeze. From the expression on his perfect features, Tanzi surmised he was not happy to see her.
“My daughter.” His jaw was rigid with anger. “You have added to my difficulties of late with your elusiveness. Let us talk in private.”
Ailie rose to her feet. “That may not be what Tanzi wants.”
Moncoya glanced at her in the manner he used toward any woman with neither beauty nor power enough to interest him. “And you are?” The ice in his tone made Tanzi shudder, but it appeared not to affect Ailie.
“Your daughter’s friend.” Ailie stood her ground, appearing very small even though Moncoya was only a few inches taller.
The ring of fire in her father’s eyes blazed brighter than ever and Tanzi decided it was time to intervene. “I will talk to my father alone, Ailie. Is there somewhere we can go?”
“You can use your own cottage.” Ailie nodded across the square to the little house Tanzi and Lorcan had shared. “Call me if you need me.” The message was clear. She watched them walk away with her hands on her hips.
Once inside the cottage, Moncoya glanced around him with a disbelieving curl of his lip. “You, my Tanzi? Living here?”
Tanzi wasn’t prepared to play his games. “What do you want?”
“I think you know the answer to that question. I have a boat waiting to take you away with me.”
She shook her head. “No.” His perfectly shaped brows rose in surprise, but, before he could speak, she plunged on. “It is too late for your plan. I am carrying another man’s child.”
Something darkened in the depths of Moncoya’s eyes. She knew that look. It usually heralded a burst of temper. “Is this a lie? A pathetic attempt to get out of the marriage?”
She laughed. “If so, you will find me out in a little less than nine months’ time.”
He took a step toward her, his lips white with fury. In the past, this was the point when she would have run from him. Instead, she stood her ground. If she was ever going to step out of the shadow of her fear of him, now was the time to do it. “Who is the father?”
“That is none of your business.”
“My sources tell me you took refuge with the Irish necromancer, Lorcan Malone. Tell me you have not stooped so low.”
Tanzi felt her temper flare and she welcomed it. She had never been brave enough to defy Moncoya, even verbally. Now, for the first time, as he dared to insult Lorcan, she saw him for what he was. An arrogant bully. A dangerous one, it was true, but she was ready to take him on. As she drew herself up to her full height, she saw something shift in Moncoya’s expression. “Why did my mother leave you?”
For a moment, the question threw him off balance. Then Moncoya gave a mocking laugh. “You don’t seriously think I would ever allow any woman to leave me, do you?”
“Stella did. She chose Cal instead of you.”
The laughter vanished from his eyes. “For now. The necromancer star will come to regret that decision.”
Tanzi swallowed the nervousness caused by the venom in his voice. “So if my mother didn’t leave you, what did happen to her?” He regarded her in silence. “I know she didn’t return to the Valkyrie as we always believed. She couldn’t because she had disgraced herself by leaving them for you in the first place. Did you kill her?”
He shrugged. “She had a choice. Stay with me or face the consequences.”
“That’s the same sort of choice you gave her when you kidnapped her and refused to let her return to the Valkyrie. She had to stay with you and submit to a forced marriage. She had nowhere else to go.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “You’ve been listening to stories about me.”
“Is it untrue? Are you telling me my mother was in love with you and that was the reason she was the first Valkyrie to defy Odin and betray their warrior code?”
He remained silent for a moment, regarding her from under lowered brows. His silence told her everything she needed to know. Her worst fears had been right all along. Tanzi had long ago stopped believing she and Vashti were the result of a loving relationship, but this was so much worse than anything she could have imagined. “You know nothing of such matters. A conversation about your mother is not what I came here for.”
“No, you came intending to bully me into returning with you so that you could force me into marriage with the devil.” Tanzi folded her arms across her chest. “Now I’ve told you that’s not going to happen, you can leave.”
Moncoya regarded her speculatively. “I have an alternative proposition for you. One that gets you neatly out of the marriage contract and disposes of this inconvenient child at the same time.”
CHAPTER 21
With Cal on board, Igraine flew across the waves faster than ever. Even so, they were not covering the miles quickly enough for Lorcan. Could he trust his instincts? What if she hasn’t gone to Spae? Lorcan forced the thought away. If she’s not there, then I’ll keep looking until I find her. When the outline of the island came into view, he wanted to yell at Jethro, who was at the wheel, to speed up. Cal, sensing his mood, came to stand at his side.
“We’re almost there.”
“What if Moncoya has already found her?”
Cal’s eyes scanned the horizon, as though searching for some sign of his hated half brother. “From what I know of Tanzi, I’d say she’s pretty fearless.”
Lorcan smiled reminiscently. “In most things, yes. But Moncoya terrifies her, and he’s had his spies out looking for her ever since we left Barcelona. It was only your warding spells that kept her safe while she was with me.” They were approaching the bay now, and he pointed to the cluster of fishing boats bobbing on the waves. To one side of them there was a sleek yacht. It was unfamiliar and out of place among the simpler craft belonging to the Spae. “Unless I’m very much mistaken, I’d say that means Moncoya’s already here.”
Waiting while they dropped anchor, got into the dinghy and reached the beach was pure agony. Once they reached the shore, Lorcan didn’t wait for the others. He took off at a run along the path that took him in the direction of the village. When he arrived all was ominously quiet, and he paused on the green in the center of the houses, glancing around as he caught his breath. Was he too late? Had Moncoya already seized Tanzi and taken her somewhere else?
He was about to seek out Ailie and ask for her help, when he heard Tanzi’s voice raised in protest. His heart rate kicked up another notch. Following the sound, he approached the cottage they had shared during their stay on the island.
“Never!” Tanzi’s exclamation was filled with horror.
As he recognized the soft, coaxing tones that answered her, Lorcan froze, pressing his body against the cottage wall. “Think about it. The child you carry will mean nothing to you. A foolish mistake, an error of judgment. We all make them. It is the prerogative of royalty. When the time comes, hand the bastard hybrid over to me. Satan will be happy to accept it as a substitute for begetting a child with you, especially as this one is likely to inherit the necromancer’s powers. You will be free to walk away from the pact I made. You can marry whom you choose. Prince Tibor is so smitten he will still take you, even though you can no longer offer him purity.”
Lorcan risked a glance through the open window. Tanzi was turned toward her father, her face pale with anger, her jaw rigid. Even across the distance that separated them he could see that her whole body was trembling, although he soon realized she was shaking with anger, not fear. She held one hand over her flat stomach in a protective gesture. “Listen to me, Moncoya—”
“You are my daughter. How dare you use my given name?” His voice was like a whiplash as he interrupted her.
“You lost the right to call me your daughter when you tried to sell me to the devil. Now, listen to me and listen good. This child is mine. Mine and Lorcan’s.” She enunciated every syllable clearly. “He was conceived in love. And he will be loved. I wronged his father by sending him away, but I will do right by this child.” She drew in a breath. “And the very first thing I will do is make sure he has nothing to do with you and your evil schemes.”
The mocking note in Moncoya’s voice became more pronounced. “You are a sidhe princess. You cannot feel love, and certainly not toward a common necromancer.”
“You are wrong. I love Lorcan Malone with all my heart. I always will. Through my foolish pride, I tossed aside any chance we had at a future. But Lorcan taught me how to love...and he is a better man than any prince or king will ever be.” No one hearing Tanzi in that moment could have doubted her ability to feel. Each word thrummed with raw emotion.
Deciding it was time to announce his presence, Lorcan strolled through the door. “Sure, couldn’t you have said all of that back at Gladsheim instead of playing hard to get in such a spectacular way?”
He was sent staggering back several paces as Tanzi hurled herself into his arms. He caught her against his chest with one arm and managed to press a swift kiss onto the top of her head while keeping his eyes fixed on Moncoya. Even on his own, the faerie king was a dangerous opponent. Lorcan’s powers of necromancy were useless against Moncoya. Faeries weren’t dead, but they were vicious fighters and cunning as hell. They seemed to be hardwired to make up for their lack of inches by fighting dirty. Biting, kicking and gouging were all part of the sidhe repertoire. And Moncoya hadn’t risen to the top through his tact and diplomacy. It was also hard to believe he had been arrogant enough to come to Spae alone. Lorcan fully expected a group of sidhe bodyguards to be lurking close by, just waiting to come to the boss’s aid. At least I’ve a couple of powerful allies of my own to call on.
“You will never get to call me father.” The familiar sneer was back on Moncoya�
��s face.
“Too fucking right I won’t.” The thought made Lorcan shudder. “I can’t imagine anything worse. No matter how much I love your daughter, I don’t see this ending with us all playing happy families.”
A footstep inside the door made him turn his head. “Sure, isn’t that a shame?” The woman who entered the cottage had a pronounced Irish accent and a smile as wide as the Emerald Isle itself. “Just as I was looking forward to getting myself a new grandchild.”
“What the—?” Lorcan gasped for breath, unable to believe his eyes.
“Who is this?” Tanzi reached for his hand, clearly able to sense the waves of shock emanating from him.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us, son?”
Lorcan shook his head in an attempt to clear it. “You can’t be.” He glanced at Moncoya, who was leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. A smile played about his lips as he enjoyed the show. “You bastard. That’s not my mother.”
“He’s too good for us, Moncoya.” The voice changed, became familiar, even though he couldn’t quite place the masculine tone while it was still coming from his mother’s lips.
As he watched, the figure in front of him shimmered and changed. It was like watching a magician’s illusion performed in double time. One second his mother stood before him, the next, her expression changed to one of fear and pain as flames engulfed her. Before he could move, the image had faded and Lorcan was staring into the face of the witch finder who had killed her. Under his horrified gaze, the witch finder changed to briefly become the tearstained face of Iphae, the murdered dryad. An instant later, Lorcan was looking at the smiling features of Iago.
The next moment Cal and Jethro erupted into the room with Vashti hard on their heels. “You are very welcome, my daughter, but this place really isn’t big enough for any more of these muscular necromancers,” Moncoya drawled.
“Shall I shut him up?” Jethro’s voice held a trace of longing as he cracked his knuckles.
Harlequin Nocturne May 2016 Box Set Page 51
