“You touched her stones,” Nightshade said in a disbelieving whisper. Then he shouted: “What were you thinking? What were you bloody well thinking?”
He surged to his feet and grabbed the front of Troy’s jacket, growled, and shook him violently. Troy made no move to defend himself. Strands of his golden hair escaped the knot behind his head; buttons popped off his jacket and fell in the dirt.
“He saved my Magic Knot from the dragon,” Ruby shouted, but Nightshade wasn’t listening.
“Why? Tell me why?” He drew back a fist and punched the side of Troy’s face, knocking back Troy’s head. The immortal still didn’t protect himself.
Ruby scrambled to her feet and grabbed Nightshade’s arm before he could take another swing. “Stop, Nightshade! He had to.” She glanced helplessly at Troy. “Tell him what happened. Tell him what Kade did.”
“I’m sorry, my friend,” Troy said.
Nightshade released him and stumbled back. He dropped to his knees and pressed his arm over his face.
“Explain,” Ruby begged.
Troy shook his head. “No words will help.”
And, he was right. Whatever he said could not change the facts or ease Nightshade’s hurt. Pain welled up inside Ruby, grief for a bond she longed for and could never have. She wrapped her arms around Nightshade and hugged him as hard as she could, tears leaking down her face.
“Just when I thought it was all going to work out,” he said. “The gods hate me.”
“No, they don’t. We can still be together.” But her words sounded trite, even to her own ears. Nightshade could give her his Magic Knot, but that wouldn’t change the fact she was already bonded to two other men. It felt as though fate was punishing her for her reluctance to bond with Nightshade.
Nightshade dropped his arm from his stricken face to stare at Troy. “She can only bond through her Knot with one person, right?”
“Yes.”
Nightshade sucked in an uneven breath and stared blankly into the distance. “The bond is unbreakable,” he whispered.
“Not completely . . . .”
Troy’s softly spoken words snatched her attention. Nightshade came to life in her arms, his slack muscles suddenly tense and ready for action again. “How can we break your bond with Ruby?”
“By death.”
Ruby’s heart stuttered. The surroundings faded until nothing existed but Troy’s words in massive jagged black letters in her head: DEATH. Troy didn’t like her. Would he kill her to break their bond?
The immortal stepped back: once, twice, the distance between them growing. He passed through the protective light dome, and it dissolved. Long golden hair fluttered loose around his face. His jacket gaped open where the buttons had come off from Nightshade’s shaking. The torn black lace at his throat revealed a swath of glowing white skin.
“Don’t,” Nightshade choked out. He sprang to his feet, pulling from Ruby’s grasp, and took a step forward.
“It will appease the Welsh Red, which will keep you two safe. It’ll kill two birds with one stone.” Troy unsheathed the black sword from his back and tossed it through the air. It landed upright in the damp soil at Nightshade’s feet. “Give my sword to Devin.” Loneliness bled into Ruby’s mind through her bond with Troy, a desolate emptiness that stretched back into the mists of time. He’d lost the woman he loved so long ago and he was weary of his endless life.
As it dawned on Ruby what Troy intended to do, the blood drained from her head and left her ears buzzing. He had never meant that she should die. He had been talking about himself.
The breath locked in her lungs, and she gulped as though she was drowning. She grabbed Nightshade’s arm and dragged herself upright at his side. He kept shaking his head, but he didn’t move.
“Stop him,” she whispered.
“Do not fear, Mistress,” Troy said. “This too shall pass.”
Troy glanced over his shoulder as he neared the dragon. The creature raised its head from its master’s body and eyed him with glowing red points of hatred. Then it reared back and blasted a stream of flame from its mouth.
Ruby dug her fingers into Nightshade’s arm as the conflagration engulfed Troy. When it died back, however, Troy still stood in the same place with no sign of injury. Not even his clothes had burned. He tilted back his head, gazing up at the sky as if for inspiration.
“Devin, lad, I need you.” He spoke softly, but the words echoed in Ruby’s head like a command from God.
When nothing happened, some of her tension leaked away and she grabbed her first decent breath in minutes. Perhaps she had been mistaken. Perhaps the beast couldn’t hurt him. After all, he was immortal, wasn’t he?
The dragon moved suddenly, whipping its vicious spiked tail toward Troy’s back. Time slowed. Scarlet blossomed like a beautiful rose on the golden silk of Troy’s jacket. Then the serrated tip of the dragon’s tail burst through his chest.
Nightshade stepped in front of Ruby, tried to block her view, but she stumbled sideways and caught hold of a tree, eyes glued to the horror. Blood spurted from Troy’s mouth. The dragon’s tail jerked him up off the ground and smashed him back down like a rag doll. Next time the tail rose, Troy hung in a limp, disheveled mess of blood and dirt, his golden hair and jacket soaked with gore. Ruby’s strange expanded consciousness snapped back into her. The bond with Troy was broken.
The dragon curled around and grabbed Troy’s body in its mouth. Then it lifted Nightshade’s father in its claws and launched itself off the slope to soar away over the glen. Ruby stared transfixed by horror and disbelief until the creature disappeared in the distance.
Shakily, she stooped and picked up one of the glittering black buttons that had fallen off Troy’s jacket. Nightshade closed his hand around the hilt of Troy’s short sword and pulled it from the ground, tears glistening in his eyes.
“He’s dead,” Ruby whispered. “But I thought he was immortal.”
“He sacrificed himself to release you,” Nightshade replied. “I’ve been told he can return from the dead, but . . .”
They gazed at each other in mute shock at what they’d witnessed. Despite what Nightshade said, his face was etched with lines of grief. He did not believe Troy would return.
Ruby hugged her arms around her middle and stared at the torn, bloodstained earth. Troy had sacrificed himself for her. After all the horrible things she’d thought about him, how would she ever live with that?
* * *
Chapter Eighteen
Devin bit back his annoyance as his mother, Zafirah, berated him for neglecting the three concubines in his harem. She paced between the oversized silk cushions littering the carpet of her retiring room, her steps jingling the gold coins trimming her clothes.
When her tirade finally ended, he drew breath to master his temper before he spoke. “I did not ask for the concubines. You foisted them on me. To refuse would have dishonored them.”
Zafirah threw her slender hands in the air, her jeweled rings flashing in the lantern light. “You dishonor them by disinterest. What’s the matter with you? Are you not man enough for them? Instead of keeping them happy you pant after that milksop virgin who’s wedded to the Book of Light.”
Anger spiraled up inside Devin. He normally tolerated his mother’s vicious tongue, but he would not allow her to slander Aila. He opened his mouth to retort but froze at the sound of Troy’s summons inside his head. Troy had called for his assistance only once before, over two hundred years ago. His father simply didn’t require anyone’s aid. Or, normally he didn’t. Devin’s heart raced.
“What is it?” Zafirah asked, her brown eyes as sharp as those of the hawks he kept for hunting.
Devin met his mother’s gaze. “Troy called me.”
Her hand went to her throat, an instinctive emotional gesture she would despise in another woman. Zafirah was as hard as the diamonds glittering on her fingers. But she had one weakness—Troy. And she hated him for it.
Her breath hi
ssed snakelike out between her teeth. “He’s in trouble?”
“Maybe.” Definitely. His father would only summon him if he was.
“I hope so.” She paced back and forth, her fingers clenching and unclenching. “I hope he is writhing in agony. I hope he suffers an eternity of torment.” She stopped abruptly and stared into the golden flames leaping from the brazier. She pivoted to face Devin, the filmy scarlet silk of her pants billowing around her legs. “Go to him.” She spat the words out like poison.
Devin bowed low, his fingertips brushing the turquoise cushion at his feet. “Always at your service, my queen.”
He let his physical form dissolve, concentrating on the echo of Troy’s call in the ether. He sensed the cool wind, the whispering trees, and the ancient sleeping rocks of the Scottish Highlands. Finally, recasting in solid form, he found himself on the rocky ledge outside the lair of Dragon’s Welsh Red. But why would Troy be here? Why would he need help? Neither Dragon nor his beast could best him.
At a mewling sound that came from inside the cave, Devin crept into the darkness, his back to the wall. His night vision revealed the outline of the dragon at the back, and moving closer on silent feet Devin made out Dragon’s limp form in the crook of the creature’s body. Mixed emotions surged through him as he stared. He would not mourn Dragon’s loss, but it reminded him that Nightshade was also mortal.
He glanced around the cave, searching for his father. Troy had probably become involved in the fight with Dragon and his beast in order to protect Nightshade, but that didn’t explain why his father was dead. Why his father needed help returning from death.
He headed for a dark alcove at the back of the cave behind the Welsh Red. The dragon lifted her head, and her red eyes fixed on him. Tendrils of smoke spiraled out of her nostrils.
“Be at peace, shadowkin.” Devin sent a wave of tiredness over her. Those red eyes closed. He waited a few more moments to ensure she was asleep before continuing.
A heap of the dragon’s treasure filled the recess: soda cans, silver foil, colored ribbons, animal bones, dead flowers, colored pebbles, pieces of wire. The place was a veritable rubbish dump. On top of the spoils lay Troy’s lifeless body, and a band of pain tightened around Devin’s chest. He struggled to draw breath.
Devin knelt at his father’s side in a pool of cold blood; the sticky liquid permeated his trousers. Purple and yellow bruising mottled Troy’s pearly skin. Dark blood matted his golden hair. One of his arms was bent at an improbable angle, and Devin pulled open his father’s jacket to find a ragged, bloody hole with white bone protruding where his ribs were broken.
Devin’s heart thudded in his ears, and tears filled his eyes. He smoothed the crusted tangles of hair away from his father’s face and kissed his forehead. Why in the Furies had Troy allowed the dragon to kill him? His father could always choose to return from death as he had in the past, but lately Troy had seemed detached from his self-appointed task of keeping peace between the various fairy courts. More withdrawn and weary of life. Devin feared that one day his father would choose not to return, choose to not face the agonizing pain of recovery from mortal wounds. One day he would instead let himself drift into the mists of the underworld and forget. Please, though, dear gods, let that not be this time.
He lifted his father’s shoulders into his arms and rocked him. “Father,” he whispered, “come back now, old man. Come back. I’m here.”
* * *
Ruby stumbled up the steps to the small jet aircraft at Glasgow airport, her coat hugged around her against the chilly wind. Nightshade followed. His hand tightened on her arm as she tripped. She dropped into the nearest wide leather seat, not caring where she sat.
“Ruby, love.” He squatted in front of her, fastened her safety belt and gripped her hands. “Only a few hours now and we’ll be home,” he said.
She stared at his large dark hands enveloping hers with strange detachment. His home. Not her home. Her home was a charred shell. Everything she owned had burned. All she had left in the world were her two beloved dogs. She just wanted to hold them, to go to sleep and never wake up.
She curled over, hugging her arms around her body as the plane vibrated and started moving. Usually she didn’t like flying, but she couldn’t care less tonight. Everything inside her was numb, as if all her feelings had been erased. Nightshade sat opposite her, and his voice droned low as he spoke to the cabin staff.
Once they were in the air, a cup of hot chocolate was placed on the table beside her. The sweet chocolaty aroma vied with the stink of blood and smoke clinging to her clothes.
Nightshade crouched in front of her again and held out the cup of cocoa. “Hot and sweet, love. It’ll do you good.”
She stared at the white cup and its head of froth. Her vision blurred and the image of the beautiful blonde-haired girl from Troy’s memories filled her head. His daughter. Her throat closed. She turned her face away from the cup and clutched Troy’s black button so tightly the facets on the gem hurt her palm. She knew she wasn’t responsible for his death, but she felt like she was.
Nightshade clasped her hand. “Ruby, love.”
She pulled out of his grasp and closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to touch him. Didn’t want to look at him. He reminded her of Troy, of blood and death, of the stink of smoke and fear. Her insides trembled. The tremors spread along her arms and legs until her teeth chattered.
“Ruby.” Nightshade touched her chin and tried to turn her face to look at him. “You’ll feel better when we get home.”
She pulled away from him. Nightshade remained crouched in front of her for a moment, then rose slowly and returned to his seat. Everything inside her screwed up tight as a fist, so tense her muscles burned and her nerves ached. She wanted to get away from Nightshade and be on her own. She didn’t want to talk about what had happened. She didn’t ever want to hear Troy’s name again. The entire situation brought back memories of finding her mother dead in the loch, the terror of being helpless to do anything, the pain of feeling responsible. This wonderful magic she supposedly possessed had been useless to save Troy and useless to save her mother. In fact, it was the reason both of them had died.
Closing her eyes, she pressed her cheek against the window, letting the drone of the plane engine deaden her brain. But later, when sleep came, her mind flooded with memories: the dragon, flames, blood, Kade, the specter, the meaty crunch of flesh and bone hitting the ground, Troy’s life blinking out like a bright light suddenly quenched. She woke screaming.
* * *
Five days later, Ruby sat on the wall at the bottom of the garden behind Trevelion Manor. Her hand ached as she manically sketched a fishing boat riding the white-capped waves in the cove below. Nothing was safe from her fervent sketching. Discarded sheets of paper littered her bedroom, covered with drawings of every room in Trevelion Manor and every external angle of the house. While she concentrated on sketching normal everyday things and ignored her artist’s vision, she didn’t have to think about her power or any of the frightening stuff that had happened. She had always used her art as an escape, but this time it wasn’t helping.
She hadn’t worn a coat, and the chill cut through her, but she welcomed the added numbness of the cold. The wind buffeted her. She shivered and pulled her sweater sleeves down over her hands. She was homeless, cast adrift in a strange scary world with no safe base to which she could return. Everything in her life had changed; yet now, when she finally had her Magic Knot, the wonderful token everyone told her she needed, she felt worse than ever.
It hung around her neck on a gold chain Nightshade had given her. The three linked stones felt warm against her cold skin, but that was the only sensation they gave. She couldn’t use her powers any better than she had before she touched her Magic Knot; she had no idea if she could have a baby, and the way her relationship with Nightshade was going, she probably wouldn’t get the chance. She hadn’t really wanted to push him away, but that’s what had happened. He h
adn’t slept with her since they arrived back in Cornwall. He spent most of the time closeted in the office with Niall and Michael, probably discussing Troy. Whenever she entered a room, everyone fell silent. To say Troy’s sons avoided her was an exaggeration, but she had no doubt they blamed her for his death.
“Ruby.”
She jumped at the sound of his voice right behind her and glanced around warily. Nightshade sat astride the wall, facing her, Ares and Apollo dancing around him, their stubby tails wagging.
“How are you feeling?”
She shrugged. “Like crap.” How did he expect her to feel when she’d lost her home and life as she knew it and felt like a pariah?
He looked sad. “I hoped you might feel better after five days.”
She shrugged again. It felt more like five years. The days had stretched on forever, interminable, while she avoided everyone and drew until her fingers ached and her eyes grew bleary. She couldn’t hide like this, as she had done for so many years after her mother died. She had to accept Troy’s sacrifice and move on. He had given up his life so she could be with Nightshade. She hated the idea of returning to the place where Troy and Dragon died, but maybe it would help lay their ghosts to rest.
“I want to go home and see if I can salvage anything.”
“Twister’s already done that for you.”
Ruby clenched her fist, and her charcoal splintered into fragments. She didn’t want her life run by other people. This was like being a child again, with no control over what happened to her. She had longed for a friend or a lover who would understand her weird life, her link with the supernatural. Now she had too many people trying to understand her, trying to control her.
A herring gull rode the wind currents a few feet below them, and they both stared at it in silence. Nightshade cleared his throat.
“Have you sensed . . . ? Do you know if you can have children?”
Something inside Ruby snapped. He’d virtually ignored her since they arrived in Cornwall. Now he wanted to know if she was ready to produce the fantastic son he wanted? They had gone back to the issue that upset her when they first met.
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