The Ruby Kiss

by Helen Scott Taylor

  “What’re their names?” Niall scooped up a small furry body in each hand and held the dog’s faces level with his own. Their stubby tails wagged madly.

  “Ares has the blue ribbon and Apollo the red one,” Ruby said.

  “Ares, god of war. I hope your name isn’t indicative of your behavior, squirt,” said the pisky king. He smiled at Ruby, his incredibly blue eyes twinkling, and although his coloring was different from that of his half-brother, Devin, she noticed the similarity between the two men in both the high cheekbones and the shape of their lips. “Go and catch up on your sleep, Ruby. I’ll introduce you to the others properly tomorrow.”

  Ruby followed Devin toward the front door, while Niall took a path around the outside of the house. The ancient granite manor lay like a comfortable old creature dozing in the sun, stone pots overflowing with late blooms lining the front. Inside, the oak paneling and decorative plasterwork appeared worn but lovingly cared for. Devin led her up an impressive stairway, then along the landing.

  A tiny wrinkled woman with curly dark hair stepped out of a nursery holding a baby over her shoulder. She smiled, and Ruby was yanked back two decades to when the leprechauns had helped her and her mother escape from Ireland.

  “Ana’s a leprechaun,” Devin said under his voice. “She’s Michael and Niall’s half sister.”

  “Are you telling me Michael and Niall are half leprechaun?” she asked when they’d moved farther down the hall.

  “Hard to believe, I know. Lucky for them, they mainly took after our father.”

  That explained why Devin’s brothers had Irish accents. She’d been wondering about that. “So Michael and Niall are half leprechaun and half what, Norse god?” Devin nodded. “Then how come Niall’s the pisky king?” she continued.

  “His wife Rose is half pisky, half human. He’s king by marriage.”

  “And your other brother, Michael? Nightshade called him bard. What does that mean?”

  “That’s bard as in storyteller. You haven’t laughed properly till you’ve heard one of Michael’s bawdy tales. But don’t be fooled by his relaxed attitude. He’s nearly as powerful as Troy.”

  He left her at Nightshade’s bedroom door and took her bags into a room a few doors farther down the hall. She knocked lightly and entered when Michael answered.

  “I’ll make myself scarce for a few minutes,” he said with a mischievous grin.

  Nightshade lay on his side in bed. “Ruby,” he said gruffly.

  She hurried across the room and sat on the edge of his bed. She clasped his hand to her chest. “Are you feeling any better?”

  He grimaced, and she took that for a no.

  “I’m sure your pisky healer will be able to help.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Ruby. I’ll get better.” He curved a warm palm around her cheek and smiled, his silver eyes glowing with pleasure despite his illness. “I wanted you to see where I live and to meet Rhys. Can you hear him playing in the garden? Go and look out the window.”

  Children’s excited squeals filtered in through the partially open window. Ruby rose and took in the magnificent view across a trimmed lawn to the gunmetal gray expanse of the Atlantic Ocean beyond. It certainly looked as though the piskies lived a very humanlike existence. A privileged one as well. Three little boys, two golden-haired and one black like Nightshade, scampered to where Niall crouched holding Ares and Apollo. They stroked the dogs, then pelted around, bouncing up and down and shrieking with childish energy and excitement.

  The boy she assumed was Rhys wore little denim dungarees over a yellow T-shirt. He looked so cute running around flapping his arms as though he was flying, and a pang of loss stole through her. If the doctors were right, she’d never be able to have a child. Nightshade wasn’t going to be happy when she told him.

  She breathed through her mouth to hold back the tears gathering behind her eyes and had to swallow twice before she could speak again. “He hasn’t got wings.”

  “They grow at puberty.”

  She nodded slowly and struggled to get her emotions under control. She wasn’t normally this sensitive. Her tiredness must have stripped away her defenses.

  “Come here, Ruby.”

  She swallowed the thickness in her throat and turned to him with a smile. “Your brother’s cute.”

  “I just hope he never falls into Dragon’s hands again. He abused both Rhys and his mother, you know.” Nightshade’s gaze lost focus and his jaw tightened. “I’ve let Rhys down by returning without getting Dragon’s pledge to give him up. As soon as I’m well again, I’ll have to return to Scotland and sort things out once and for all.”

  “Just concentrate on getting better.” Ruby returned and sat on the bed. She splayed a hand on Nightshade’s chest and leaned down to wrap an arm around his neck. His skin was feverishly hot.

  “When I’m better, we need to talk.”

  His fingers trailed down her back, making nerves spark to life beneath her skin, and she kissed him, her body humming to life despite her weariness. “I want to do a lot more than talk,” she whispered.

  “Knock knock,” Michael said, putting his head around the door. “Cordelia’s ready to treat you now, boyo.” The man’s gaze settled on Ruby. “She’ll be needing to concentrate, so ’tis best if you give them some time alone.”

  “I need to sleep, anyway.” Ruby kissed Nightshade again then stood, giving him a smile of encouragement. “I’ll come and see you when I wake up.”

  Cordelia was waiting in the hall. Michael tugged affectionately on her long plait and kissed the tip of her nose, then went downstairs. Cordelia’s gaze followed him before flicking back to Ruby.

  “Sorry, he always makes me forget what I’m doing. I wanted a quick chat with you before I treat Nightshade. Can you think of anything that might have made him sick? I’ve only examined him briefly, but my first guess is that he’s been poisoned.”

  “Poisoned!” Ruby blurted. Her hand flew to her mouth as she tracked back over everything they’d eaten at the Unseelie Court. Could Twister have poisoned him in order to fix their competition for her? She didn’t think so. She’d have sensed that through her bond with Twister. And Nightshade had already been sick when Dragon arrived. “If he was poisoned, it must have happened at the fairy Gathering.”

  “I’m not saying anyone poisoned him on purpose,” Cordelia clarified. “And it isn’t necessarily something he ate. Did you see him drink or smoke anything odd?”

  “You mean, like, drugs?”

  Cordelia swung her long plait over her shoulder and absently fiddled with its end. “Possibly, although I can’t imagine Nightshade taking drugs. He doesn’t even drink much alcohol.”

  “You’ll have to ask him. When I arrived at the Gathering we went straight to the Unseelie Court.”

  How innocuous that sounded, when in reality she’d been kidnapped and dragged there by the beak-noses.

  “Devin told us about the wolf thing. I’m sorry you had to go through such a traumatic experience, especially for the man to then throw himself to his death. That’s so sad.”

  “Yes.” Ruby’s heart ached for Fenrir, but she also felt numb with weariness. She stifled a yawn and rubbed her eyes. After the long drive, all the stress from the last week had suddenly caught up with her.

  Cordelia squeezed her arm. “I promise I’ll do my best for Nightshade. A couple of years ago he helped me save Michael’s life. I’ll never be able to repay him for that. I’ll see you in the morning. Sleep well.”

  Ruby walked a few doors down the landing to the room where Devin had left her bags. As she started to close herself inside, however, a pale slender woman with big doe eyes approached carrying a tray with a cup of tea and a sandwich.

  “Hello. I’m Eloise. Niall thought you might be hungry.” The woman deposited her tray on a table beneath one of the windows overlooking the garden and wrapped her arms around herself. “Thank you so much for bringing Nightshade back to us. I don’t know what we’d do without
him.”

  “I’m sorry, you are Nightshade’s . . . ?” Although Eloise’s comment had been similar in tone to Cordelia’s, it had a more possessive ring.

  “I’m Rhys’s mother.” She indicated outside where the little boys were still playing. “Nightshade rescued us from Dragon. He’s a very special person. We’ve missed him while he’s been away.” Eloise looked down and wiped the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry. I’m terribly worried about him, but I expect you just want to eat and get some sleep.”

  “Thanks,” Ruby said, frowning. For some reason, she sensed a veiled hostility.

  Eloise gave her a shy smile and scurried out, leaving Ruby unsettled. She ate the cheese-and-pickle sandwich, relieved to be eating regular food again in a normal house with windows. Nightshade’s home was beautiful, and he was obviously surrounded by people who loved him.

  But, now that she’d delivered him, she almost felt superfluous.

  * * *

  Nightshade stirred, sensing someone beside him in bed. He cracked open his eyes, but the dull ache in his head blurred his night vision.

  “Ruby?” he mumbled. His fingers crept across the crisp linen sheet to find the comfort of her warmth, but instead of Ruby’s soft body the tips of his fingers met shiny fabric over hard muscle. His eyes widened to meet the intense blue gaze fixed on his face.

  “Troy.”

  He couldn’t sense the psychic signature of his friend’s father, as Troy always masked his energy, but he could smell Troy’s unique scent of sunlight in crisp icy air. The immortal lay on his side facing him, pillowing his head on his arm.

  Nightshade started to pull back, but Troy caught his hand against his chest. “I ask your forgiveness, my friend.”

  Struggling to wake enough to fathom why Troy would be apologizing in his bed in the middle of the night, Nightshade blinked. “I don’t understand.”

  “You’re not sick. Your body is reacting to the power in the blood you took from me.”

  “Shit.” The word slipped softly from his mouth, more a statement of surprise than a curse. He remembered Troy referring to himself as a poisoned chalice, but at the time his desire to bite the immortal had overcome his caution.

  Instead of anger, relief flooded him. Now that he knew the cause of his malady, Cordelia would be able to treat him.

  “I thought you were strong enough to benefit from a dose of my blood with no ill effects, but I failed to take into account that you’re an earth elemental and my power is like a drug to you. You’re suffering withdrawal symptoms.” He released Nightshade’s hand and his long pale fingers unfastened two buttons at his throat before spreading the white lace aside to reveal his skin. “The simplest solution is for you to bite me again.”

  With the familiar stinging pleasure-pain, Nightshade’s fangs slid out against his lower lip. He hadn’t bitten anyone since Troy. The memory was sweet, and he ached to taste the immortal again.

  “What happened to your Mistress of the Beasts?” Troy asked.

  Ruby. Nightshade’s mind snapped back from its sleepy fantasy. His gaze slid away from Troy to the dark corner of the room. “She brought me home so that Cordelia could treat me.”

  Troy looked surprised. “Why did she not give you blood to ease your suffering? After a few feedings of a demigod’s blood you’d have recovered fully.”

  Nightshade closed his eyes. Could the path to recovery be that simple? If Ruby had just formed a blood bond with him, he would never have suffered this weakness. He would have been strong enough to stand up to Dragon and bargain for Rhys’s safety.

  But, why should she sacrifice her principles for him? She was fiercely independent and hadn’t wanted to bond with anyone.

  “The woman doesn’t deserve your love if she lets you suffer,” Troy remarked.

  “She didn’t realize it would help me.”

  Troy stared. “She’s the Mistress of the Beasts. Her power should have allowed her to diagnose your weakness.”

  Nightshade shook his head. Had Ruby known and chosen not to help him? He didn’t want to imagine that, but she was so against blood-bonding she might have subconsciously blocked out the knowledge. He wasn’t sure what to believe.

  “I will not see you suffer any longer, my friend.” Troy rolled onto his back and pulled open his jacket and shirt, baring his neck and chest. He angled aside his head and closed his eyes. “Sate yourself. I’m yours for the taking.”

  Nightshade pushed up on his elbow. As he stared at Troy’s golden hair spread across his pillow, the throbbing in his head faded and he was swamped by amazement. How had he, the unwanted nightstalker boy rejected by piskies and spurned by his father, earned the affection of this powerful immortal? The lure of Troy’s enticing fragrance and the pulse beneath that pearly skin drew him closer. It was too long since he’d tasted the warm salty tang of blood on his tongue.

  With a hand braced against the bed on either side of Troy’s head, he leaned over him; his fingers caught in the silk of the immortal’s hair. Instinctively, he spread his wings to protect his partner while he fed. Yet, if he drank from Troy again, he would only increase his dependence on the immortal’s addictive blood. If Troy ever chose to deny him, he would become sick again. If he was to be addicted to anyone’s blood, it would be Ruby’s.

  He inhaled the clean sharp scent of Troy’s skin and touched his tongue to the pulse of Troy’s carotid artery. Nightshade’s breath rushed out on a murmur of desire. But he couldn’t jeopardize his chance of happiness with Ruby. He lifted his head.

  “I’ll never deny you, stalker,” Troy murmured in a silky whisper.

  Nightshade dropped his forehead against the immortal’s shoulder. “This is impossible. I want . . . .”

  Troy gripped the back of his head. “You want the Mistress above me? Even though she’s rejected and deceived you?”

  “I don’t think she deceived me.”

  “Either she’s deceived you or she’s too weak to handle her power.”

  Nightshade pulled away, and Troy released him. He settled back on the bed with a weary sigh. His headache returned to thump behind his eyes. “You don’t know her.”

  Troy was silent for long moments. “You choose her over me?”

  “I want a baby,” he said in frustration. The silence beat in Nightshade’s ears. How had he come to a point where he had to choose between two people he cared for?

  Troy reached out and placed a pale hand against his arm, and the tension between them melted away like mist in the sun. “I will see you recovered. The woman must give you blood this night.”

  “She doesn’t want to form a blood bond.”

  Troy gave a grim, unnerving smile. “Let me change her mind.”

  * * *

  Ruby woke with a start, and the overwhelming sensation of Nightshade’s need compelled her to scramble straight out of bed. She wasn’t willing to dismiss any strange impulses these days.

  Putting on her dressing gown, she tiptoed down the hall to his bedroom. She eased his door open softly without knocking in case he was asleep. The lamp on his nightstand cast a warm glow over his bed. She froze in the doorway, gaping; her breath jammed in her lungs. Nightshade was not alone. A man with long blond hair lay intimately close beside him, talking.

  The soft melodic timbre of the stranger’s voice whispered across the room to caress her ears. The gold piping and crystal buttons shone on the man’s blue jacket, while his lacy shirt hung open exposing his chest. She wasn’t sure if he was in the process of dressing or undressing.

  “Nightshade.” His name wrenched from her strangled throat.

  The stranger looked unsurprised, as though he’d been expecting her. He pinned her with eyes too blue to be human. “Rest now,” he whispered to Nightshade in a soothing undertone she had learned to recognize as silver tongue.

  He rose with the lithe, controlled movements of a predator and stalked around the end of the bed, the powerful lines of his body emanating hostility.

  “Ruby
, this is my friend Troy,” Nightshade said sleepily.

  “Troy!” This preternaturally beautiful man with pearly skin was Devin’s father? “You’re supposed to be old,” she snapped.

  “I am.” His voice grazed her skin like the flat of a razor blade, not cutting exactly, but leaving no doubt he could slice her to ribbons.

  “Shit.” Her heart thundered as she remembered the comments Devin had made about his father’s attachment to Nightshade. And Troy was obviously possessive and spoiling for a fight.

  Her gaze locked with his. He raised a hand over his head and snapped his fingers. Light flared around them, cocooning her with the man while shutting Nightshade outside. She wheeled around, startled.

  “For privacy,” he said in that silkily menacing tone.

  Ruby could just discern the outline of Nightshade’s bed through the shimmering curtain of light. Troy must have sent him to sleep. She’d have to deal with Troy alone.

  The best defense was attack. “Why did you come here in the middle of the night?” she demanded.

  “I’m blood bonded to Nightshade. I’ll visit him whenever I want.”

  Ruby staggered back and clenched her fist against her chest. “No.” The word slipped unconsciously from her lips. Although Nightshade told her he’d bitten Troy at the Gathering, it hadn’t occurred to her the two men were bonded. She knew the blood bond wasn’t quite the same as a Magic Knot bond, but still. It shocked her.

  Troy stepped closer. “Yes. And you are not bonded to him. You’re bonded to Twister. Pack your bags and return to Scotland.”

  His words washed over her, and leaving suddenly seemed like a wonderful idea. She missed her home in Scotland and Twister in particular—

  No! Troy was using silver tongue. She dragged back her wits and focused. “Twister forced me to bond with him,” she pointed out.

  If she’d expected sympathy, she was disappointed. Troy remained unmoved, his eerily perfect face a mask of indifference. “That doesn’t explain why you haven’t formed a blood bond with Nightshade—if you really care to.”

  Heat rose to her face and she sucked in a breath. “I wasn’t ready.”