Although the piskies might punish him when they were released, he must help Rosenwyn free them. Make amends for his betrayal.
Rosenwyn pressed her hand to her mouth and sobbed. “Should have…walked…through…the fire.”
“No, no.” Nightshade stroked her hair. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does,” she sobbed.
“Shh.” He hugged her tighter, unsure what to say. If only her fairy half had activated, she wouldn’t have burned. Niall had said he couldn’t run the light with Rosenwyn, but he didn’t explain why.
“We must make a move,” Jacca whispered.
She gazed up at him, bleary eyed.
“I’ll take the shortest route and head for Wales.”
“Aren’t you cold?” She blinked at his bare chest.
He flicked out his wings with a snap. “A coat cramps my style.”
When he set her on her feet, she stood like a child as he fastened the zipper up to her chin. “Ready?” He picked her up and she clutched at him. “Don’t hang on, sweet one. You’ll impede my wings.”
Rosenwyn laid her cheek against his chest and closed her eyes. As the blustery wind whipped needle points of sea spray against his skin, he glanced down at the woman in his arms. Tenderness swelled from his heart, warming his body. She trusted him with her life, just as she had when she was a little girl. Last time he’d let her down. This time he would protect her or die in the attempt.
Rose jolted awake, blinked, and realized she was still in Jacca’s arms. They’ landed in a field beside the sea. He went down on his knees and, with a groan, deposited her on the damp grass. Her bare legs were so cold she couldn’t feel them, which was probably a blessing, as the warmer bits of her were in agony.
Wincing, Rose rubbed her eyes and looked at Jacca in the moonlight. His face was in shadow, but she made out the tremor in his muscles as he tried to close his wings.
Poor guy must be exhausted. Ignoring the screaming sting of her skin, she struggled to her feet, legs clumsy with lack of feeling. “How long were we in the air?”
He shook his head as she tried to help him up. “Give me a moment.”
Tentatively, Rose placed her fingers on his trembling shoulders and massaged. When he sighed with appreciation, she rubbed lower, worked the taut, quivering muscles where his wings joined his back.
He held still for a few minutes until the tension eased. “You’ve missed your vocation. That was wonderful.”
Jacca got to his feet, rolled his shoulders, and settled his wings against his back. “We need to find shelter and get some rest. Look”—he pointed to the right— “—there’s a cottage in darkness. Perhaps the place is empty.”
Rose squinted at the faint outline of a building and glanced at the luminous numbers on her watch. “It’s probably in darkness because it’s two in the morning.”
“If we’re lucky, it’s an empty tourist cottage.” With a hand on her back, he guided her over a narrow strip of road to the building. As they approached the gate, he released her. “Wait for me here.”
Rose watched him melt into the shadows and shivered inside Niall’s thick jacket. She pulled up the collar and sniffed. Beneath the clinging stench of smoke, his woodsy fragrance lingered. For a moment she remembered being surrounded by his scent, the feel of his skin, tasting him, being one with him. “Niall,” she whispered into the darkness, “I need you.” Rose closed her eyes, relaxed, and felt for him. He swamped her mind suddenly and completely, as though he’d stepped inside her. Rose gasped, staggered, and clutched at the gatepost for support.
As quick as he’d come, he was gone, leaving a pulse of reassurance. He was safe and on his way to find her. Rose blinked, a touch light-headed, but relieved.
The muffled smash of stealthily broken glass cut into her calm and she grimaced. In the last few days she’d gone from respectable professional to desperado on the run, breaking and entering.
The darkness beside her thickened, took form, and Jacca appeared. Rose pressed a hand over her heart. “Don’t do that near me again.”
“Why not? The ability to become a shade is highly valued among the Good People.”
“It freaks me out.” She pressed her fingers to her throbbing temples. She still had so much to learn, but right now she just wanted good old-fashioned human comforts: painkillers, coffee, and a warm bed.
Jacca wrapped an arm around her and led her to the open front door. “We’re in luck. This must be a holiday cottage left empty in the winter.”
She clicked the light switch but nothing happened. “Can we turn on the electricity and find a heater? I’m freezing.” The temperature was no warmer inside than out.
“I’ll look. Make yourself comfortable.” He faded into the darkness. Rose felt her way along the hall until she found an open door. Faint slivers of moonlight between the window-blind slats illuminated a basic kitchen. Her stomach rumbled at the mere possibility of food.
Starting at one end of the room, she ignored the pounding in her head as she bent down and methodically checked the cupboards and drawers for anything edible. She found three tea bags and a lot of mouse droppings in a chewed cardboard box, a supersize box of salt, and a sticky bottle of sauce. Her stomach churned at the sour smell of mice. On a wave of nausea she dropped into a chair and rested her aching head against the cool Formica table.
Every square inch of her skin burned as though it were still exposed to the fire. Since she’d woken, the pain had increased with each passing second. Tears swam into her eyes. She fought to keep them from falling. She must be strong until Niall arrived; then he’d know what to do.
With a metallic hum the fridge came to life, and the micro wave oven started flashing, SET CLOCK. Well-done, Jacca. When Rose snapped on the light switch, the room burst into white Formica brilliance.
Shiny pain spiked her eyes before she shielded her face.
Jacca loomed in the doorway, his skin blacker than black in contrast. “Anything to eat?”
She shook her head, and her brain screamed at the movement.
He glanced around, then strode over to the cupboards and randomly opened a few doors. Rose quashed her irritation that he didn’t believe her. Maybe she had missed something in the dark.
He sighed and slammed a cupboard door. “Never mind. Come into the sitting room—there’s an electric fire.”
When Rose moved, the pain where the jacket abraded her arms and neck made her head spin. Darkness chased away the light around the periphery of her vision. She swayed.
Jacca was beside her in an instant. “Rosenwyn.”
She fumbled at the coat zipper. “Get it off.”
With a frown, he unfastened Niall’s jacket, eased it off her shoulders, and dumped it on the table. The cool air relieved the soreness, and she became aware of another sensation. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“End of the corridor.” He surveyed her through narrowed eyes. “Can you manage?”
“When I need you to help me pee, I’ll really be in a bad way.” Rose clamped her teeth against the pain as she walked down the hallway. The faint odor of mold and soap scum led her to the bathroom door. She stared at the stained green toilet. A far cry from her own carefully decorated flat in London.
Fresh tears surged into her eyes. Clean and neat was how she liked her home and her life, and nothing was ever going to be clean and neat again. What she wanted was a hospital bed with smooth white sheets and nurses pumping morphine into her until everything went away.
When she finished, she sent up a quick prayer for painkillers to what ever god she should talk to now that she was pisky, and opened the bathroom cabinet. A curled bar of soap lay in a puddle of dried scum.
The small window above the toilet rattled. Rose glanced up and caught the flash of movement outside. Her breath lodged in her throat. When the rattling became a regular tapping against the glass, she backed up, eyes glued to the window, and reached blindly behind her for the door handle. Black mist streamed from the outl
et, swirled into a column, then resolved into the form of a man.
“Jacca!” Rose wrenched open the door and sprinted along the corridor. “Shade in the bathroom,” she said in a gasp as she pushed past him into the sitting room. She glanced around wildly, checking that the windows were closed and looking for holes where a shade could get in.
“Damnation, I thought Ciar would send shades, but not this fast. Let’s hope our visitor’s a lone scout.” Jacca scanned the room. With the tips of his fingers, he plucked an ornamental horse shoe off the mantel above the fire and tossed it on the sofa. He shook his hand and nodded at the horse shoe. “A weapon for you. Iron is inimical to fairies. When they’re in shade form the metal can sever the bond they have with their body.”
After Jacca ran from the room, Rose picked up the horse shoe gingerly. Trembling, she clutched the back of the sofa for support and flicked her gaze between the door and the window. A few minutes passed; then black mist drifted out of the old chimney behind the electric fire and started to take form.
With a firm grip on her strange weapon, Rose stepped forward and swiped the horse shoe through the shadowy figure. It shattered into inky droplets, spun into a minitornado, then shot back up the chimney. Rose’s heart raced so fast she could hardly breathe. Collapsing on the sofa, she stared at the horse shoe with new respect. Maybe the lucky horse shoe superstition had a basis in truth.
Jacca burst through the door with the shaker of salt from the kitchen in his hand. “Still in one piece?”
Rose nodded.
“Only one shade, I think,” he said, sprinkling salt around the edge of the room. “We can’t proof the whole house, but we can keep the blighter out of this room.” He poured generous amounts near the window, door, and fireplace, then levered off the lid with a fingernail to extract the last few grains.
Although Niall and Michael had used a ring of salt around Ana’s house to keep out malevolent fairies and her father’s spells, she still wasn’t convinced it would work. “You’ve got a backup plan, haven’t you?”
Jacca dropped the plastic container beside the door and walked over to her. “They won’t pass over the salt. We’ll stay here until light, then try to get back to Cornwall.” He sighed. “I can’t fly in daylight. We’ll have to find a vehicle and you can drive us.”
“Niall’s coming.” When she quieted her mind, she could feel him in the distance, a safe harbor in a storm. “Let’s wait.” Rose sank back against the cushions, careful not to let the fabric rub her sore skin. “I’m not up to driving, anyway.” Now the immediate threat was over, her brain felt as though it were being poked with red-hot wires. She put her hand over her eyes. “I feel awful.”
The sofa dipped as Jacca sat beside her. He laid a gentle hand on her back. “You need the immunity of your fairy powers. I know Niall came to you. What went wrong?”
She remembered the hurt in Jacca’s eyes when she hadn’t chosen him to run the light. Having to discuss it with him was awkward. “We tried.” She waited a few head throbs for him to respond, her ears buzzing in the silent room. When he said nothing, she continued. “It didn’t work.”
“I can see that.”
“I think it’s my fault.” Rose avoided his curious gaze. “I didn’t let go of my human side when we…you know.”
Jacca shook his head. “I think I know what might have happened.”
He suddenly had all her attention. “Niall blamed himself. Do you think he was right?”
“Indirectly, he could be.”
Fear shivered through her. Did that mean there was some fairy reason why she and Niall shouldn’t be together?
Jacca took her hand, cradling it in his. “I had a long time to think on the journey. I believe Ciar intended you to fail by allowing you to choose Michael or Niall. You are both of different mixed blood. To be successful, my guess is you need a pureblood pisky.”
Rose stared into Jacca’s eyes as the implication of his words penetrated her aching brain. “So you’re saying”—Rose licked her lips—“you’re saying that to activate my pisky half, I must sleep with you?”
Jacca blinked slowly and held her gaze.
Rose stared at her slim pink hand lost between his dark fingers and remembered Niall’s long fingers, so gentle on her skin. “There has to be another way.”
“Not that I know of.”
She pulled back her hand and clenched it with the other in her lap. “I’ll stay human. I can still be the queen.”
“Look at yourself, Rosenwyn.” He indicated the scarlet skin of her arm. “If you’ activated your fairy side you wouldn’t have been burned. Your link with Niall would also be stronger.”
Rose glanced at him questioningly.
“I sense him in you, Rosenwyn. You owe it to him to make the bond as close as it can be.”
“That just about takes the biscuit.” Rose laughed incredulously. “Sleeping with you will bring me closer to Niall. I don’t think so.” She stood shakily and walked to the fire to get some distance from him.
“Niall asked me to come to you himself.”
“But he might have changed his—”
A shrieking sound from the chimney made her jump back and fall on the sofa.
“What the hell?”
“At least we know the salt’s working.”
“Scared me half to death.” Rose squeezed her eyes closed.
“Run the light with me and your injuries will heal immediately.”
Rose stared at her red skin. The heat from the electric fire made the pain worse, but didn’t reach her icy core. What ever Jacca said, if she slept with him, Niall would never get over it. He’d jumped into the circle of flame for her and shielded her body from the fire. She loved him, and in his own way he loved her.
Rose curled up on the lumpy sofa. “I’m going to wait for Niall.”
When she closed her eyes, light flashed behind her eyelids, then faded. Cold crept through her limbs, spreading heavy and dark into her mind. Locked deep inside, her survival instinct cried, trying to make her take notice. But she was so tired. All she wanted was oblivion.
Niall drummed his fingers on his leather armrest and stared out the aircraft window as the lights of the Dublin airport faded into the distance. “Grand going,” he whispered. He was on his way back to Rose. Her pain grated in his mind like an off-key note, his head throbbing in sympathy.
With Michael’s sweet-talking and a generous amount of cash, Niall had rerouted his charter to Bristol. As soon as they set down, he planned to find a rental car and drive to the west coast of Wales. Three hours, maybe four, and he’d be with her.
He closed his eyes for a moment, reaching out to check her. His chest tightened. She was weaker.
Michael snored, mouth open, sleeping like a baby. Full of surprises, his brother. who’d have guessed he’d take Niall’s side and return to Cornwall?
Niall tried to relax. An hour of sleep would be a good idea, if he could rest with Rose in his head.
Rose!
He bolted upright, sending a cup of apple juice flying. Suddenly he couldn’t feel her. Psychically he cast around for their link. No barrier, no presence. Nothing.
Fear gripped his heart with icy claws. It was as if she’d ceased to exist.
At just after nine in the morning, Niall accelerated his rental car along the motorway past Cardiff. He kept his mind open, searching for Rose. As he neared the coast, he felt Nightshade and tracked him. The longer he went with no sense of Rose, the more difficult it was to resist the waves of desolation pounding at his mind. But he wouldn’t give up. Not until he knew for certain.
Weaving the car along the narrow roads toward the coast, he found himself circling the area, unable to pin down Nightshade’s location. The fugitives would be near the cliffs, probably in a sparsely populated area. In desperation, Niall parked in a muddy field, left the car, and hiked, crossing fields and leaping hedges.
Off in the distance, the front door of an isolated cottage opened. An unmi
stakable black form filled the doorway. Niall ran until he was close enough to be heard, then grabbed a breath and shouted, “How’s Rose?”
The stalker came forward and opened the gate, his face grave. “I can’t wake her. She’s been asleep for hours.”
At least she was alive. Relief sparked along Niall’s nerves, firing him with energy. He raced through the doorway, burst into the room where she lay on a tattered green sofa, and dropped to his knees beside her.
The Magic Knot Page 23
