Nikolas bared his teeth in savage, naked aggression. “That goes for every one of you as well. This woman has risked her safety and her life for us. While you were scrambling for your weapons, she was the first one on the field tonight. We are guests in her house, and you will respect her expertise. And if I find out that one of you has verbally or physically threatened her in any way, I don’t care how long we have fought together, I will end you. Is that clear?”
Rowan stepped forward to put his hand on Nikolas’s taut forearm. “You’re right, Nik,” he said, his voice clear and calm. “That’s not who we are. Rhys was just being an unbelievably massive ass, weren’t you, Rhys? You didn’t actually mean to strike our friend, host, and ally. And I’ll bet you’re counting the seconds until you can say you’re sorry. Right?”
“Right,” Rhys said, his wary attention trained on Nikolas. He made no move to try to stand or ease away from Nikolas’s sword but instead remained sprawled half prone on the ground, his weight resting back on both hands. He looked at Sophie. “I apologize. I can’t believe I hit you. I’ve never done anything like that before. It must have been the heat of the battle.”
“Sure, it’s okay,” Sophie said easily. As Nikolas glanced at her, water dripped down her calm face. She smiled. “Battle fever can make the best of us do crazy things. No harm done this time. Just don’t do it again, or you can forget about what Nik will do to you. I’ll smack you into next week myself.”
Expectedly, Braden started to chuckle. “I heard the truth in that statement.”
Others started to laugh, and the tension eased. Rowan’s grip tightened on Nikolas’s arm until he forced his rigid muscles to relax. Taking a step back, he bent to clean the length of his bloody blade on the grass, then found his sword harness. Despite the discomfort of donning it while wet, he sheathed the sword and shrugged the harness into place.
He asked, “Did we get them all?”
“No way to tell,” Cael replied. “Maybe. We got all the ones that charged, and you took out the one that tried to leave the field. There could have been others holding back, in the woods, but they would have charged too, unless they had other orders.”
And Rhys killed the one that might have told us that, Nikolas thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sophie offer a hand to Rhys to help him up. After a second’s hesitation, Rhys accepted it. It was a nice, diplomatic touch. A savage, barely controlled part of him wanted to knock their hands apart.
He watched closely until they stopped touching. Then he said, “I guess it doesn’t matter. None of these Hounds will be returning, which is a message in itself.” He told Sophie grimly, “I’m afraid all our hard work at misdirection has gone down the drain.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Sounding tired, she swiped at her dripping nose. “Misdirection was a long shot anyway.” She added telepathically, They showed up here awfully quick after Robin’s storm started though. Do you think Morgan knew I was lying after all?
Nikolas said, No. If Morgan believed you were lying, he would have come here himself, and he wouldn’t have waited. Or he wouldn’t have let you go in the first place.
She heaved a sigh, which turned into a cough. It must have been Robin’s storm that brought them then.
Although he didn’t say so, he disagreed. The puck might be a great many things, but he was neither naive nor stupid. A storm of this magnitude spanned miles, and Robin would never have made the manor house the center of it.
And Morgan hadn’t witnessed the deep emotional bond Sophie and Robin had developed. He had believed Sophie when she had claimed the dog had disappeared, so he wouldn’t have leaped immediately to searching for Robin here. He might have checked out the property as part of an overall search strategy, but there would have been no specific sense of urgency in doing so.
No, there was only one logical reason Nikolas could think of for a fighting force of thirty Hounds to show up on Sophie’s doorstep not an hour after the men’s arrival.
Betrayal. They were not supposed to live through this fight.
He watched Rhys closely for the next several minutes, but as the tension faded from the group, the other man appeared to relax gradually. He even stepped forward to mutter something at Sophie, which caused her to laugh.
Moving quickly, the men stacked the bodies of the Hounds together close to the tree line. As they worked, a single headlight of a motorcycle appeared. Gawain and Ashe had returned.
Sophie and Rowan went to greet them and explain what happened, and within moments Ashe had joined the rest of the group to help, while Gawain ran his bike into the manor house.
Now that Gawain had returned and could help to keep an eye on Sophie, Nikolas felt a hypervigilant part of him relax slightly, and he could turn his full attention to the task at hand. Once all the bodies had been collected, the others stepped back several meters. While they kept watch, he knelt to put his hands on the ground once again.
It had been a long damn day with a hellish ending, and he was not only tired, he was still tapped out from amassing morningstars. But this one task had little to do with wielding his Power and more to do with asking the Earth to wield hers.
Reaching deep, he made the connection with the rich, abundant land magic all around him and asked it to take the bodies of the men. This type of asking never moved quickly, but after a few moments, the ground rippled gently and the bodies sank below the turf. When they had completely disappeared, he thanked the magic and let it go, then stood.
The first thing he did was look for Sophie. She stood by Gawain at the back of the group. At some point while Nikolas had been working, the puck had appeared, still wearing the form of a monkey. Robin sat on Sophie’s hip like a toddler, his skinny, hairy arms around her neck.
No one offered to say any words at the Hounds’ grave. They got the respect of a burial, but they would not get prayers from the Dark Court.
“That’s it,” Nikolas said, wiping his hands on his sodden pants. “We’re done. Let’s get inside.”
The others didn’t hesitate. They jogged to the house, and as soon as everybody was inside, Nikolas and Gawain closed the iron-bound oak doors while everyone else watched in the dim glow thrown from the fire across the hall and the single lit oil lantern someone had set on top of a case of canned beans.
The sound of the doors closing seemed very loud in the silence. Nikolas turned to find them all watching him. Sophie hugged the monkey. Everyone wore the same, sober expression he felt on his face.
Nikolas thought, none of us know if or when those doors will open again.
And one of us is a traitor.
“We’ve thrown the dice,” he said. “Now we pray the gamble pays off.”
Gawain clapped his hands. “In the meantime, we’ve got work to do. Let’s dry off and get changed. Nikolas cleared the chimney so we can build up the fire to take the chill out of the hall. We can sort out the majority of this mess tomorrow, but let’s at least get things shifted so we can have enough clear floor space to make bed pallets for the night. And I don’t know about any of you, but I could use a late supper after all that work.”
While Gawain issued orders, Nikolas turned his attention to Sophie. Dripping wet like the rest of them, she was visibly shivering, and her face was completely colorless. Searching the immediate area, he found the blanket she had left crumpled on the doorstep and enveloped both her and the puck in it.
His hands were reluctant to leave her. He clamped his fists in the blanket and drew her close. She didn’t resist him. Neither did Robin, as the puck turned his face away and laid it on her shoulder.
“You looked spent hours ago, and a lot has happened since then,” Nikolas muttered. “Let’s get you out of these wet clothes. Then will you please sit by the fire and warm up?”
Her teeth chattered. “I would l-love nothing more than to fall asleep by the fire, but Nik, we haven’t found the privies yet.”
He told her, “The men can piss in a jar for one night.”
&
nbsp; She glowered at him. “I c-can’t.”
Unexpectedly, amusement welled up inside. Tucking the blanket higher around her neck, he said, “We’ll set up a chamber pot for you and a blanket for privacy. We can locate the privies in the morning.”
“Nikolas Sevigny, I am not going to pee in a chamber pot while I’m in the same room as the rest of you. Just wipe that concept out of your head.” She sniffed and rubbed her nose on the blanket. “I’ll feel better when I’m warm and dry. It’s not going to hurt if we look around a little bit.”
Heaving a sigh, he conceded. “All right, but only after we change into dry clothes.”
They changed quickly. First Nikolas held up a blanket in one of the two corners closest to the fire so that she could strip out of her wet clothes in relative privacy. When she was freshly dressed in jeans, a sweater, and her black boots, he changed too. Thanks to Sophie washing his clothes, he had exactly four changes of clothes with him from his go-bag. In many ways, no matter how much or little time it took, this was going to be a long siege.
While he dragged on clean clothes and settled the damp sword harness into place between his shoulders, he said to Gawain, “We’re going on a brief exploration, hopefully to find privies and a viable source of water without encountering a major shift between here and there.” Switching to telepathy, he added, When you set up pallets for tonight, be sure to put hers close by the fire, between yours and mine. She feels the cold more than we do, and we’re not leaving her unguarded for a moment.
You bet, Gawain said without a flicker in his expression. Aloud, he replied, “We’ll have hot soup and bread waiting for you when you return.”
“Thanks.” Sophie was still shivering when Nikolas turned to her, and she had wrapped the blanket around her again, but there was more color in her face. “Where’s Robin?”
She shrugged. “Hiding in the shadows. Pilfering the food. Your guess is as good as mine. He took off when I changed clothes.” She gave him the ghost of a tired grin. “He’s a bit prudish, I think.”
Nikolas dismissed Robin from his mind. The puck could look after himself, and he had a talent for disappearing when he wanted to. He took one of the nearby oil lanterns and lit it. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” She looked at the chaos around them. “Wait, did we get chalk or paint?”
Gawain said, “I saw that box. Hold on a second.” He rummaged between two stacks and lifted up a hand-labeled cardboard box. “Here it is—both chalk and paint and paper for drawing maps.”
Sophie peered inside and pulled out a plastic package filled with white chalk. “This will do for tonight. If we find any shifts, we can mark them more permanently tomorrow.”
Nikolas approved of that plan. He said, “Follow me.”
As tired as she looked, her expression was alive with interest. She fell into step beside him as he led her toward the huge fireplace. “Why are we going into the corner—oh!”
Her exclamation came as he took her hand and led her into the deep shadow at the side of the huge hearth. Only when they came close did the light from the oil lantern reveal a dark, narrow hall, cleverly designed to remain hidden by the massive bulk of the fireplace.
He grinned at the look in her wide eyes. “I found it when I was clearing the chimney. It’s not quite a hidden passageway, but it’s close. Servants would have used this, probably to carry food and drink to the high table and important guests, so it should lead back to the kitchen, buttery, and pantry.”
“And hopefully a water source,” she said.
“Exactly. Also, this house is big enough, I have my fingers crossed for an inner courtyard.”
The sounds of the men working faded as they went down the dark, narrow hall until black silence pressed at them on all sides. They could walk abreast of each other, but Nikolas’s sleeve brushed the wall on his side, and he could see that Sophie didn’t have much room on hers either.
She whispered gleefully, “This is creepy as hell.”
“It is, a bit.” Smiling slightly, he laced his fingers through hers. “Are you sensing any shifts?”
She shook her head. “Not at the moment. I’ll be sure to tell you when I do.” Her eyes gleamed as she glanced behind them. She shifted to telepathy. The man who tries to strangle me. You suspect Rhys, don’t you?
His brief amusement faded. He has pressed me for details at suspicious times. I look back at things he’s said and how I’ve sensed a certain antipathy in him from time to time. He knew about Gawain scenting Robin and me going to investigate Old Friars Lane. And tonight, not an hour after the men arrived, we got attacked by a large pack of Hounds. When we might have gotten information from the one you had spelled, he killed it. It’s all circumstantial, and none of it is definitive, but yes, I do suspect him.
She squeezed his fingers. I’m so sorry.
The warmth of her hand in his was a comfort he hadn’t expected to relish. He squeezed her fingers in reply. Thank you.
As they talked, they came to a heavy door, and he handed her the oil lantern before he set to pushing it open. The wood was swollen into place, and the hinges were rusty, so he had to throw his whole weight into the operation. The door screeched loudly as it finally gave and split into two pieces. The wood had rotted at the core.
He stumbled forward outside into the cool, wet night. Behind him, Sophie laughed and cheered. “You were right—there’s an inner courtyard!”
As he righted himself, she held the oil lantern high. It was impossible to see everything in the insufficient illumination, but he got the impression of tangled, overgrown greenery, knee-high grass, benches, and even a few fruit trees, all bordered by stone colonnades. It wasn’t by any means as grand as some courtyards he had seen, but still, it was a nice, spacious place.
His catlike eyes adjusted to the lighting, and he pointed across the courtyard. “There are your privy chambers, and in the opposite corner, there is my well. This house is part wealthy family home and part fortress. I suspected they would have wanted to keep their water supply guarded and to have privy chambers safe from outside interference. Nobody would want to get attacked while in such a vulnerable position. The kitchen, buttery, and pantry will be somewhere over there, by the well.”
“This is fantastic.” Her eyes shone.
He smiled. “If you need to relieve yourself, you’d better go behind one of the trees for now. Tomorrow we can make sure the structure of the privy chambers is safe and inspect the well.”
“Actually, erm.” She gave him a sidelong smile and slipped her hand out of his. She tossed her blanket into his arms. “I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time.” He waited while she took care of her private business, content to study his surroundings.
The courtyard felt full of ghosts from the past. He could see the reason for everything they had done. The benches had been positioned so they would get the most shade from the fruit trees. The well had been covered before the household had left. It must have been an instinctive decision, in case they ever chose to return again.
The moon hung high overhead, lightly veiled in shadowed clouds. On the other side of the front doors, this night was the third night of the full moon cycle, but here, in this place, the moon was half-full. The sight was another reminder that they were not in alignment with the land outside the house, which was both comforting and disturbing at once.
She returned quickly, reclaimed her blanket, and pointed back the way she had gone. “There’s a shift over there.”
He looked in that direction. “You didn’t cross it?”
“Oh, no.” She shuddered. “The last thing anybody needs is for me to disappear for two weeks while I’m going to the bathroom.”
“You’re damn right.” Setting aside the lantern, he drew her into his arms. She leaned into his embrace and tucked her face into his neck. Rubbing his cheek against her damp hair, he muttered, “You still make me crazy.”
Crazy with desire. Crazy with a tangled mess of so many other em
otions he didn’t know how to track them all or sort through them. She flung him hurtling along a manic symphony of reaction. Interacting with Sophie was like trying to herd twenty cats at once.
“I make you crazy?” Dropping the blanket, she slipped her arms around his waist. She whispered, “I lost ten years of my life when I saw those Hounds racing after you. It was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen, Nik.”
He felt her body shudder against his. Remembering his own rapid, violent array of emotions as he watched her run toward him, he pressed his mouth to the thin, fine skin at her temple and told her, “You’re still fired. I mean it, Sophie. I won’t work with someone who disregards my orders so blatantly.”
“Pfft,” she said. “I don’t need your stupid consulting job. You can keep your money and your high-handed, arrogant assumption that you get to order me around however you like. I’m going to still do what I want and act as I think best. I meant what I said too—I’m not one of your foot soldiers. Screw you.”
As she told him off, she rubbed his back, the touch soothing and arousing at once.
“You are a truly horrible woman,” he growled. He slid the tips of his fingers underneath the edges of her sweater, connecting with the warm skin at her torso. The need to kiss her, to feel her full mouth pliant and moving under his, was pounding in his head. “Screwing sounds better and better all the time.”
“And I can’t believe you’re such an asshole.” She crooned the words, almost as if they made her happy.
He tilted her face up. “Sophie,” he whispered. “I’m no good for you. My life is desperate and violent all the time, not just tonight, and now you’ve gotten trapped in a conflict you can’t leave.”
“Oh Nik,” she murmured, stroking his hair. “It really is impossible for you to grasp that I am fully capable of making all my own choices. I am fully autonomous in my own right. I’m not going to agree with you all the time, and I’m not going to take your orders. I am my own sovereign state, and I’m standing right here in front of you because I want to be here. I’m beyond being insulted by you. Right now I’m just weary. If you can’t respect me enough to accept that, I don’t know what the hell we’re doing.”
Moonshadow (Moonshadow #1) Page 27
