Storm Warrior (The Grim Series)

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Storm Warrior (The Grim Series) Page 21

by Harper, Dani


  “Don’t you still have to take down the fair booth? I could help you,” said Morgan.

  Starr shook her head. “Thanks, but Vanessa has already taken care of it.”

  “Well, Jay’s on call tonight so I guess he might as well keep the truck. And truthfully, I’d just as soon not be here when Rhys shows up.”

  “I kinda thought so. It looks like you two are going through a rough patch.”

  “You could say that, I guess.” Actually a rough patch was something Morgan would use to describe a bump in the road of a long-established couple. She and Rhys barely qualified as a couple at all, despite their feelings. They hardly knew each other, or more accurately, she didn’t know him, and that was the crux of the whole problem. Damn it, her eyes were starting to fill just thinking about it. “I’d love to borrow your van, thanks. You’re a lifesaver, Starr.”

  Grateful for the chance to escape before Mr. Celtic Warrior showed up, she hurried into the elevator with the keys in her hand, trying to remember the location of the van in the neighboring parking garage. Third floor, west wall, seventh or eighth stall. Third floor, west wall, seventh…

  The door slid open to reveal the hospital lobby. Morgan’s getaway was going really well—until she all but crashed into the solid wall that was Rhys. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her but ended up hugging her to him. Part of her wanted to stay in that embrace, take comfort in his strength—but most of her just wanted to punch him. Her anger won and she pushed at him.

  He released her reluctantly. “How is Leo?” he asked, as Jay came jogging up behind him.

  “Stable so far, no thanks to you,” she said. “I don’t know where the hell you took off to, but I could have used some help with him. I needed you; he needed you.”

  “I was helping him.”

  “By running in the other direction? What the hell were you afraid of?” Morgan knew she’d hit a nerve then. Rhys’s face darkened, and his golden eyes fairly sparked with temper. In her peripheral vision, Jay was giving her some sort of sign language, but her attention was firmly fastened on the big man in front of her. She’d tried to avoid him, tried to just go home and relax for a while before tackling the issue, but maybe a head-to-head confrontation now was just what was needed—

  “I fear nothing, except that I cannot persuade you to listen.”

  “Listen to what? All I’ve heard so far is this warrior crap and how you’re older than a hundred human lifetimes.”

  With uncanny speed, he snared her hand and held it against his chest. “You hear nothing else? My heart reaches for yours as do my arms. You hear not how I feel? What I would gladly do for you, give to you?” His gaze was fierce. “My desires are to you, my every thought flies to you. I see in your eyes that you feel the same. And yet you are determined to hold yourself apart from me.”

  “Well, excuse me. I can’t just say, ‘Oh, well, he’s crazy but he loves me so that makes everything all right.’ What planet are you from?—” Morgan put her free hand to her head. “Don’t answer that, please. I can only handle one wild story at a time.”

  “You’re the most kindhearted woman I’ve ever seen draw breath. And yet your heart is closed and locked.”

  She yanked her hand out of his grip. “Like hell it is! I wouldn’t be suffering like this if it was, because you wouldn’t have gotten into it.” That was a lot more than she planned to say, but maybe he damn well ought to know that she was in a world of pain.

  Rhys was silent for a long moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was gentler. “Aye, well, you’ve let me into your heart then, but not the truth that comes with me.”

  “So it’s a package deal, you and your insanity?”

  “Nothing can be built without truth.”

  “And so far, you and I can’t agree on what that is,” she said, folding her arms tightly over her chest. “You don’t understand what this is like for me. It’s as if I’m under some kind of stupid curse that nothing I love will stay in my life. I loved my parents and they vanished. I was close to Nainie and she died. I thought I’d made a dear friend with Gwen in Wales, but I’ve never heard from her since. I loved my big, beautiful dog and then he disappeared. Then I developed feelings for you, but you keep leaving as well.”

  “I’m here, right before you.”

  “No. No, you’re not. Oh, sure, you’re here physically, but every time we get close, you leave reality. What am I supposed to do with that?”

  “Have faith in me. Have faith in us.”

  She had no answer to that, no comeback, no question. Something about the way he’d said it had resonated in her. And for no reason, Nainie’s words about the necklace echoed in her head. It’ll help you to have faith…

  What exactly did it mean to have faith in someone? Surely it didn’t mean to believe the unbelievable? Damn it, she wasn’t falling for this crap. “You say you’ll do anything for me? Fine. See a doctor. Get help. Better yet, get some medication and some therapy. Because until you do, I want you to stay as far away from me as possible. We have nothing to say to each other.”

  Rhys shook his head. “Nay, we have much to say to each other yet, anwylyd. But we’ve no time right now. Leo needs me.” He entered the elevator and Jay followed. The last thing she saw as the doors slid shut was the expression on Jay’s face.

  If she didn’t know better, she’d say he felt sorry for her. Well, that’s what I get for arguing in front of friends. Still, it stung a bit to see her friend apparently on Rhys’s side.

  “Men,” she muttered as she marched out to the parking lot. The sun had set, but there were still streamers of orange and purple in the sky. She didn’t relish the thought of going home to an empty house. What she really wanted was someone to talk to—and she knew where to find the perfect listener.

  Even if he was male.

  As Ranyon sat on the bed next to his pillow, Leo’s eyes fluttered open. “Hey, buddy,” he whispered and held up a shaky hand, which the ellyll immediately wrapped his twiggy fingers around.

  “Sorry I am to wake you, but these fellows brought you something that might put some spring back in your step,” Ranyon said.

  “You brought me a naked woman?”

  Rhys grinned, hiding his concern at the weakness of Leo’s voice and the pallor of his skin. “We’ll bring one for you next time. Right now you need your strength, and I’m hoping this will help.” He pulled a wadded sock from his pocket and dumped out a palm-size stone on the bed.

  The old man glanced down. “I’m not swallowing that,” he rasped. “Not even for two naked gals.”

  Just then, Jay slipped inside the door. “Starr’s in the hall. Is it okay to let her in, or shall I go wait with her?”

  Rhys exchanged glances with Ranyon, who nodded. “We may need all of our allies. Aye, bring her in.”

  “No screaming,” said Ranyon quickly. “I can’t abide a woman’s screams. Like cat’s claws on slate, it is.”

  To her credit, Starr didn’t make a sound when Jay first ushered her in. She simply stared at the tiny man sitting by Leo’s pillow, her eyes wide and wondering. Jay squeezed her shoulder and she seemed to pull herself together. As her husband had done, she extended her hand to the ellyll. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Mr. Ranyon. My name is Starr.”

  “And surely yer a light in the darkness,” said the ellyll, inclining his head, and she laughed.

  “No one warned me you were charming.”

  “No one suspected,” muttered Leo.

  Jay leaned over the smooth, dark stone gleaming against the stark white sheets. “What is this? It almost looks like a pearl.” Despite his fascination, he didn’t make any move to touch it. “Kinda looks like a crystal too—never seen anything quite like it.”

  “There’s nothing in my collection that resembles it,” said Starr. She seemed about to say something else but fell silent.

  “It’s from the skull of a bwgan I killed. It grows in its forehead.” Rhys touched a spot on his own to indicate the s
pot.

  Jay pulled back. “What the hell is a boogun?”

  “It’s a monstrous fae creature that’s fond of human flesh.”

  Leo snorted. “And you put that nasty thing on my bed?” he rasped.

  “Is it magic?” asked Starr.

  “Well, not to the creature that grows it during its life—a bwgan has too little of brain and too big of teeth to need magic for anything,” explained Rhys. “But legend says when the creature dies, all its fae essence goes into its stone. That’s why druids and magi prized these.”

  “So it stores energy then,” Starr held her palm several inches above the dark pearlescent surface. “Omigosh, I can feel it from here!”

  “Aye. The older the bwgan, the stronger the magic. This stone is very powerful.” Rhys picked it up and tucked it into the old man’s left hand, gently closing his gnarled fingers around it. “Keep it with you, my friend. I’m hoping it may shield you from the worst of the Fair Ones’ spell.”

  “Feels warm,” murmured Leo. “Kinda nice for a monster’s rock.” He paused to take a couple of breaths. “If I get nightmares though, I’m kicking your ass.”

  Rhys squeezed his hand gently. “Aye, well, I’ll present my arse to be kicked as long as you stay with us.”

  “Ain’t going nowhere.” The old man sighed and closed his eyes. The ellyll moved closer to him and patted his shoulder.

  “The stone’s got to be close to ya all the time,” instructed Ranyon. “Ya can’t be putting it down and leaving it about. A pocket’ll do.”

  “Damn hospital gown doesn’t have one,” muttered Leo without opening his eyes. “But I promise I’ll keep it with me, bud. I’ll shove it in my underwear if I have to.”

  The ellyll waved everyone else back, then folded his long fingers around Leo’s fist that cupped the stone. He muttered an incantation in an odd blend of Gaelic, Welsh, and something else that Rhys recognized as an ancient fae language that even the Tylwyth Teg no longer used. The lights in the room flickered out for a brief moment, just long enough for a bright greenish glow to escape from between Leo’s fingers. When the lights came on, the glow was gone. And Leo was sound asleep, his worn face relaxed, and his color much better than it had been.

  “That was awesome,” said Jay. “Is he cured?”

  Ranyon sat back and shook his head. “Nay. I know much magic and many incantations, but this cursed spell is too strong. All I was able to do was bind the bwgan stone to him so he cannot lose it nor can it be taken from him. It’s got a glamour on it now, so it can’t be seen by anyone who hasn’t seen it afore.

  “And I sent him off to dream—the dear old hen ddyn needs his rest, or he’ll not have the strength for this battle.” The ellyll sniffled a little and accepted a handful of tissues from Starr. “I fear fer him greatly. The bwgan stone will keep him alive, and thanks be that we have it, but it cannot heal him.”

  “So it gives us time but little else,” growled Rhys. He wanted badly to punch something, and only the fact that Leo might need what little was in the room kept him from giving in to the impulse.

  “What do we do now?” asked Jay.

  The ellyll jumped to his feet. “I’m fer givin’ the Tylwyth Teg a black eye for what they’ve done to Leo, that’s what. Those that have wrought the spell have to be made to undo it.”

  “Agreed,” said Rhys. “But someone needs to watch over him, and Ranyon, you would be best.”

  “You’ll be needing someone to watch yer back too, ya know. The Fair Ones are crafty as well as cruel, and who can know what they’re planning to spring on ya next? They won’t be happy till yer back in their realm with a collar on ya.”

  “If the faeries have it in for you, Rhys, then is Morgan in danger too?” asked Jay.

  He was already thinking that. “I had hoped not, but the attack on Leo changes my thinking. I shouldn’t have let her leave alone.” If the Tylwyth Teg had attacked Leo because he was Rhys’s friend, then Morgan could very well be their next target. She might have been declared eithriedig by the queen of the Tylwyth Teg herself, but it now appeared unwise to rely on that status. The monarch had many enemies—why would they hesitate to breach the immunity she’d granted to Morgan?

  “Leo and Morgan are our friends, so this is our battle too,” said Starr. “We’d like to help.”

  Rhys shook his head. He had vowed to protect Morgan, and he would continue to do so—however, he knew he couldn’t protect Jay and Starr as well. “My thanks to you for the offer, but we can’t risk the Fair Ones getting their hands on you,” he said firmly. “They’d like nothing better than to have extra human captives to bargain with.” Or play with.

  Jay was about to protest when Ranyon added. “’Tis true. Yer like to disappear without a trace, both of ya. We dare not reveal ya to the Tylwyth Teg. For sure they’ll have Rhys trading his freedom to pay for yer lives. We need ya to be our help in secret.”

  “Okay,” Jay sighed. “I don’t like it, but I see your point. So we’ll be covertly helpful instead. That means we should look after Leo, and Ranyon, you should be going with Rhys. After all, you’ve got some magic, and you’re familiar with the fae.”

  Starr put her hand on the little ellyll’s shoulder. “I can’t cure Leo either, but I have healing skills and I can make sure he’s comfortable. At least until his family gets here in the morning.” She bent and whispered, “I’ll stop by and feed Spike too.”

  In answer, Ranyon pulled off his new blue T-shirt and spoke a few words over it, then handed it to her. “Spike’s a fearful little beast because he can’t hear or see, and it makes him testy. Give ’em the shirt—it’ll soothe him as soon as he puts his nose to it.” He sighed. “I’ll trust him and Leo to ya then. Leo would be telling me to go and help Rhys anyway.”

  She gave him a hug and gently patted his leafy back. “I know he would.”

  “I’ll take first watch with Leo,” said Jay. “Starr can drive you guys out to the farm, but I have a feeling there’s going to be a stop at our house first.”

  Starr grinned and squeezed her husband’s hand, then turned her attention to Rhys and Ranyon. “I don’t have any magical monster’s rocks,” she said. “But I do have some other things that might be useful to you in this kind of fight.”

  Ellen didn’t seem surprised in the least when Morgan turned up at Gentle Giant Rescue. “I didn’t mean to come so late—” was as much as she got out before she was wrapped in an enthusiastic hug.

  “You’re welcome here anytime, girl,” said Ellen. “If you’re here to see Fred, it’s getting dark, but I’ve got some of those solar lights along the path that’ll help.”

  Morgan made her way to Fred’s enclosure without a hitch. The dog was in the same position as always, tail hanging listlessly out the door and onto the ground. “Hey, Fred,” she called out as she sat with her back against the enormous doghouse. “Ellen told me a secret. She said you came out for a little while today. She said you ate half your food too. You’re doing good, buddy.”

  She sighed and wished she could say as much. The emotional events of the day had piled up, and her plans to simply talk them out were hijacked by tears. First a trickle, then a full-blown cloudburst. She rubbed her face on her sleeve, thinking how mortifying it was going to be to have to carry a box of Kleenex in each hand everywhere she went—when her entire face came under attack from a giant tongue. And there was an unbelievably massive dog behind it.

  “Fred, you big old softie.” Sitting down, she was at a definite disadvantage against two hundred pounds of affectionate mastiff. She struggled to her knees, as Fred enthusiastically continued his ministrations. When she turned her face away, he licked her hair into a wet tangle. Finally she managed to squirm under his chin and throw her arms around his ginormous neck. It was like wrestling a lion, especially when it took a few minutes for Fred to give up trying to lick her. But it felt good to hug this big canine, and she rested her face on the soft dark coat. Maybe her love life was a total mess, but she cou
ld feel a measure of closure over her missing dog, Rhyswr. She had loved him. She could love this dog too.

  It wasn’t long before the two of them were in an untidy pile of arms and legs and more legs, and she was rubbing his belly.

  “Are you all right in there?” Ellen called out from the gate.

  Morgan sniffled and laughed. “Better than all right. Are there some papers I can sign? Because this guy says he’s coming home with me tonight.”

  TWENTY

  It was full dark but unusually warm as Rhys and Ranyon walked up the long driveway of the farm. Although the stars were visible in the black velvet sky directly above, the horizon was obscured with darker clouds that blotted out the rising moon. The occasional flash of heat lightning illuminated the trees in the distance.

  Starr and Jay had armed them both, each in their own way. At Jay’s instruction, Starr produced weapons from his collection—two swords that were real, not padded wood or rattan. The blades were truly beautiful, with breathtaking dragons and exquisite lions worked into their hilts and ornamented with gemstones. Such swords must have been costly, but Rhys turned them down.

  Instead, he had chosen a very plain sword crafted by a friend of Jay’s. It was short like a Roman sword, and Rhys knew from experience that the length was excellent for close-quarter fighting, for both cutting and stabbing. The sword had no decoration, but its heft and balance felt good in Rhys’s hands. The natural patterns in the blade told him that the iron had been meticulously hammered and folded on a blacksmith’s anvil just as blades had been made centuries ago, tempered and blended with just enough carbon to make strong steel.

  He considered taking a round metal shield. It would be a natural choice for the arena against a human or animal opponent, but his battle with the fae was unlikely to last long enough to use it. His only hope was to make a quick decisive assault, and for that, he’d need a weapon in both hands. The sword would be in his right. For his left, he chose a long iron dagger with blades that sprang out at the sides, giving it a trident appearance. The design was highly functional—it could catch the downstroke of a sword blade and perhaps even break it.

 

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