Conor flexed his arm. It hurt, but it mended. The wound to his ribs was already healed.
“I’ll see to it after we’ve caught Simon.”
Mikhal held him still. “Morgan’s abilities outstrip even yours when it comes to tracking. We’ll let Simon feel secure enough to release Glynnis first. Give him time to get deeper into the wood. We’ll follow once word comes that he’s there.”
Only respect for his father kept him from charging after them. “Do you think the true fey will stop him?” he scoffed. “They let him onto the grounds without a warning. To them, he belongs here. He’s a Bligh.”
His father’s face settled into stern lines, his eyes hard as ice. “Mayhap you’re right. After everything is done, Simon is still a member of this family.”
Conor couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was Father saying that Simon didn’t matter? That his crimes didn’t matter? Conor wrenched himself free. “I don’t care whether he’s a Bligh or not. I’m going to rip his goddamned head off when I catch him.”
Gram stepped between father and son, her voice like steel. “His day will come, but not at your hand. You’re going to wait here.” Her eyes looked past him to where Ellery watched everything through eyes wide and dilated, a trembling lip caught between her teeth as she fought back tears.
Catching the scent of her blood, seeing the jagged line of it staining her throat, Conor’s hands shook, and a fist closed around his heart. Too close. He’d cut it too close, and Ellery had almost died.
“She needs you,” Gram said.
Conor couldn’t look at Ellery again. Not at that long slender column of her neck. Not at the stiffened face that refused to crumple into tears, the chin that remained lifted, defiant. Would her defiance hold when he had to approach her with a dagger and murder in his eyes?
Conor tried moving past Gram. “I can’t let him get away.” She stepped back into his path. “Ellery—” Conor threw up a hand. “Ellery was held at knifepoint by that coward. I want him. Tonight.”
He’d stopped her words, but he couldn’t stop the thoughts battering his mind. He should have protected her. He should have kept her safe. But safe for what?
The grounds shone silver under the waning moon hanging high in the western sky. Though no breeze moved among them, the trees shivered and whispered. Bells echoed, voices calling across the woods, over the park. Frightened, anxious voices.
Lights danced in the wood, a green faery glow that moved and bobbed from path to path as Glynnis was piskie-led back toward them.
Mikhal put up a hand, holding Conor back when all he wanted was to don the Heller’s mantle. Hunt Simon down. Then Asher.
Enough hiding. Conor would take this battle to them.
“He’s gone,” his father announced. “They’ve watched him pass the northern boundary markers. He’s on horseback. And alone.”
“And Aunt Glynnis?”
“She’s safe. They’re leading her home.” The lights and the bells came nearer before breaking off as Morgan and Glynnis broke from the trees. Glynnis’s robe was torn and muddied, her hair a wild mane about her head, but she seemed unhurt.
Morgan supported her as they walked back to the group. “I’ll take her in to Gram. Jamys will look her over.”
Mikhal agreed.
On their way past, Glynnis caught Conor’s eye. Her gaze steadied. “Talan?” she whispered. “Our little boy has become one of them. I’ve lost him forever to the devil’s army.” Her gaze shifted to the house. “Christ has forsaken me. And now I’m truly all alone.”
Held upright by Morgan, she shuffled by, the weight of her sorrow crushing.
Mikhal started for the path. “I’m going to walk the boundaries. See what I can discover.”
“I’m coming, too.” Conor re-gripped his sword, the solid weight of the steel unnaturally calming.
A new task taking shape in his mind.
Chapter Twenty
Ellery closed her eyes, leaned back into her pillows and listened to the rain drumming against the house, the steady squeak of Conor’s mother’s rocking chair. Both sounds calmed her jagged nerves. Eased the lingering feel of Simon’s knife at her throat, the sight of Conor helpless on his knees. She couldn’t be sure which terrified her more.
Niamh Bligh shifted, began humming softly. Her quiet presence had soothed more than any effusive offers of comfort. Had done so since the men had gone. Since Glynnis’s return. Since the house had settled once more into silence.
Opening her eyes, Ellery turned her head to the darkness beyond her window. Was Conor still searching for Simon among those ancient trees? Did Asher stalk Daggerfell’s dark woods? Was the safety of this house only a mirage?
She wanted Conor. Here. In front of her. She needed to see him safe and whole. Needed to touch him, feel his reassuring warmth under her hands. Know that he was all right, and that things weren’t as black as they appeared.
“Where are you, Conor?” she whispered to the storm. The rain pounded harder, the wind shaking the casements and howling like an animal begging entrance. Only Niamh’s steady rocking kept Ellery from leaping out of bed and hunting him down herself.
A knock broke off Niamh’s song, and then the door swung open.
Ellery flashed back to the night they met. Conor stood on the threshold, soaked through, his clothing muddied and stained pink with blood. Fatigue etched lines in his face, but his eyes remained as hot and gold as a summer sun.
She sat up, the quilts bunched between her hands. A wild fluttering began in her chest.
Niamh stopped rocking. “Con,” she scolded. “You’re drenched. And your arm. You’re bleeding.”
He stiffened, giving a respectful nod as water sluiced off him, puddling across the floor. “It’s fine, Mum. I only came to tell Ellery she’s safe.” His gaze sought her out. “Simon won’t be back. I’ve done what I can to strengthen and steady the wards. It should be enough if nothing else occurs.”
“But being injured so soon after your illness,” his mother commented, fixing her spectacles on her nose. “Are you truly all right?”
He swung his arm back and forth, flexing the damaged shoulder. “Nothing a good sleep won’t cure. But I wanted Ellery—I wanted to see she was all right.” All the while he spoke, his eyes never swayed from her.
“Did you?” Niamh’s tone was hopeful. She rose, yawning. “As you see, she’s well. But she worries for you.” She patted Conor absently on the shoulder. “We all do.”
For the first time, he looked directly at his mother. Caught her hand in his. “Thank you. For watching over her.”
She smiled. “Me? I merely rocked and listened to the rain. It’s comfortable now and then to sit together in silence. It can bring great thoughts.” She brushed him with a kiss. “And great serenity. You should try it. You might find comfort in the voices that fill the quiet.”
Conor returned the chaste kiss. “I know what those voices say. They seek justice.”
Niamh frowned. “They seek peace. Can you give it to them?”
As if refusing to acknowledge his mother’s wisdom, Conor focused back on Ellery. “I came as soon as I could.”
She put out a hand. Withdrew it. “I needed to see you. To know you were safe.”
“I know.”
He’d heard her call. And he’d come. The fluttering steadied into a pulse-pounding beat of excitement. “Simon came so close,” she said.
“I’d never let him harm you.”
And Ellery knew he spoke truth. Conor would die before he let Simon hurt her. The idea that he cared that much what happened to her was dizzying and at the same time sobering. A deep bond lashed them together. Made them solid. Stronger. Yet Asher had used a similar bond against Conor once before. Could their fragile relationship be a weapon in the demon’s hands as well? A chill shivered up her back. “I meant you. Simon almost killed you.”
He looked surprised, then somber. “I won’t let my guard down again.”
“Good night,
my children.” They both looked up at the closing of the door.
“Your mother—”
“Has gone to bed. And so should you. I’ll see you in the morning.” The weight of his gaze was frightening. “There are things we have to discuss. But not tonight.”
“No.” She rocked up onto her knees, tossing the quilts aside. Grabbed his arm. “No. Don’t leave.”
He looked down at the grip she had on his sleeve, his expression unreadable.
She pulled back, confused. “Oh, God. I’m making a mess of everything again. Go. Go change. You’re all wet. And—and dripping.”
“You’re still frightened from what happened. It’s reasonable.” His voice held infinite patience as if he spoke to a small child. Was it possible to want to kiss someone and hit them all at the same time?
Tension and fear had held her together this far. The release of both freed her mind and her mouth. She snapped, “You think tonight was any more frightening than anything else that’s happened to me since I met you?”
“It was for me.” He fell into the chair his mother had just vacated. Ran a hand down his face. “Damn it, Ellery. I was moments from losing you.”
Hope burst through her, but she wouldn’t let it take hold. Not yet. “And that mattered to you?”
He looked at her like she was insane. “I’ve brought you into this. I’ll see you’re protected until it’s over.”
So much for hope. “That’s not what I asked. But it’s an answer, isn’t it?”
Why wouldn’t he say it? Why couldn’t he say that he cared for her? That somewhere between her kitchen in Carnebwen and here, things had changed between them.
He stood up and paced to the window. Stared out into the rain.
What did he see in that darkness that lay hidden to her? “I haven’t got the reliquary anymore,” she said. “Why does Asher want me?”
Conor spoke without turning around. His voice was dull. Tired. “I don’t know. Mayhap Simon thought you knew where it was hidden. Mayhap Asher thought to punish me through hurting you.”
She got out of bed. Crossed to his side. “But how would he know that my capture would do that? He’s not omniscient. He can’t know what I don’t know myself.”
He whipped around. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
It was now or never. She drew in a deep calming breath. “You warned me once you’d keep me safe, but could make no promises.”
“That still holds true.”
“And if I want you anyway?” Her voice shook more than she would have liked.
“Ellery, I can’t. You don’t understand.”
“But you want me? As a man wants a woman?” The dark sensual light in his eyes was all the answer she needed.
He wanted her. Desired her. But was that enough? She made up her mind.
For tonight, it would have to be.
She was cut off by the crush of his arm around her waist as he pulled her against him. By the force of his mouth on hers. Immediately, she was soaked by his cold, clinging shirt. Gooseflesh rose on her skin. Rainwater dripped off his hair onto her cheeks, streamed down her face like tears.
An image of her mother flashed before her. The sorrow. The desperation. And in the end, the hopeless resignation. What the hell was she doing? She should tell him to stop. Tell him to leave. But what Ellery whispered was, “You’re wet through.”
“Aye,” he muttered.
Between one breath and the next, his shirt was gone, the carved muscles of his chest dusky in the candle glow. She ached to run her fingers over the swirls of his mage marks, to tease a heat into those eyes born of human desire and not magic.
He glanced down at her damp nightgown. “We can’t have you catching cold,” he murmured.
With one practiced move, her shift lay on the floor around her ankles. Allowing no time for shyness and none for words, he recaptured her lips in another kiss that erased all her doubts. All her questions.
He glided his hand over her shoulder, around one breast, the checked strength in his callused palm almost unbearable. She shuddered, moving into his touch. Her breathing grew ragged as every stroke only made her more impatient for the next. Oh, yes. This pleasure was worth the regret that would follow tomorrow.
She combed her fingers through his hair, loving his crisp rain-smell, the cool touch of his fingers.
As if in supplication, he fell to his knees, his bowed head resting against the flat of her stomach. “…I won’t…not now…” He spoke to himself. No more than a whisper. But the force of his words threatened to break the spell surrounding them.
“Conor?” She hated the need in her voice.
He looked up at her, and any last-minute hesitations that might have been lurking were lost amid the swirl of sin and seduction in his eyes. “You’re safe, Ellery.” His lazy, sexy smile was equal parts reassurance and enticement.
Then his hands encircled her waist. His teeth grazed the long length of her legs; his breath tickling as he dropped kisses up her inner thighs. Her stomach flip-flopped. Her legs grew weak. Small whimpers escaped her throat with every inch of flesh he tormented with his lips.
She wanted to join him on the floor, but he kept her standing. Pushed her back against the wall.
Then his head was between her legs, his tongue flicking against the soft folds. Tasting the nub that lay hidden there. She jerked back. Choked on a shout that would have left no doubt in anyone’s mind what was going on in here.
Her knees turned to jelly. Fisting her hands in the curtains to hold herself up, she melted into him. Into the hot, excruciating feel of him lapping at the most secret center of her. She writhed against him, her pulse quickening as pressure built beneath his hands and his mouth until every stroke of his tongue brought her closer to the edge. As if a bomb had gone off inside her, her inner muscles spasmed. She was wet and swollen and ready, but Conor played her. Probing. Retreating. Knowing just how far to go to keep her suspended in churning, mind-blowing anticipation.
He finally released his death-grip on her waist, allowing her to slide wobbly-kneed to the floor with him.
Boldly taking his face in her hands, she claimed his mouth in a deep, sensual kiss. Savored her essence on his tongue. Rubbed herself against his erection. He was as ready as she was. She leaned into him, whispered into his ear. “Take me.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “I plan to. And nothing stops me tonight.”
He swept her up in his arms and laid her back on the carpet. No time for the bed. He wanted her now. He wouldn’t give her a chance to change her mind. Tonight fealty, responsibility, honor fell away. Only Ellery mattered. Only the pleasure he could give her. The passion she begged for with every caress.
Tomorrow he would gather his burdens back up. Do what he needed to do.
There would be no life with Ellery. But he would leave her a life. She would have to settle for that.
Beneath him, her body shuddered with every brush of his fingers. She bit back a moan, her eyes black with desire. The musky, earthy scent she gave off acted on his brain and his body like an aphrodisiac. And watching her watch him only aroused him more, if that were possible.
He skimmed her with his tongue, delighting in the sweet honey of her flesh, the curves and valleys, the growing need that took her over as she panted for more. He wanted to feel her close around him, to join with her and know the crashing ecstasy that would swallow them both.
He sheathed himself inside her, the tightness only making the pleasure more intense. He paused in a bid to relax. He was so close already, the slightest movement might end it before he got started.
“No more waiting,” she whispered, grinding herself against him.
He clenched his jaw against the sweet friction. So much for relaxing.
He thrust deep into her. Long, steady strokes that wound him tighter and tighter. She wrapped her legs around his waist, joining the dance as together they found their tempo. Knowing that they’d have only tonight made every se
nsation sharper, brighter.
He moaned, throwing back his head as each push sent him spinning closer to oblivion.
She bucked and cried out, her release all it took to send him tumbling. His mind fractured, his body burst into fiery pieces. He cried out her name as he held her close against his chest, the beating of her heart in his ear like music.
Magic danced in the air between them, the energy almost visible as it moved back and forth over them, around them. He stretched out his mind, sensing the change in himself, the strengthening of some talents, the weakening of others. All courtesy of Ellery’s mysterious ability.
Her eyes were closed, her breathing coming in great sobbing gasps. He pushed a strand of hair from her face, thought about telling her. Not exactly pillow talk. He’d wait. He wanted to linger here, enjoy every delicious second.
If he was right, his seconds might be fast running out.
She lay naked on top of him, his heart only now beginning to slow.
The night had spun out, the two of them spending the hours exploring each other. Tasting. Touching. Whispering words best spoken in darkness.
Guilt should be sucking away at his enjoyment. Pressure should be making him restless. Distracting him. Instead, the only emotion even touching his drowsy contentment was sorrow. These few hours might be the only time he and Ellery had. He wanted to live them to the hilt.
He clutched her tight, stared into the dark as if the true fey might have changed their minds and written his future there.
“Mmmm, it’s nice,” she murmured, “but I can barely breathe.” He released his grip on her. She opened her eyes.
“That’s a fierce look.”
“I’m thinking.”
“I can see the wisps of smoke,” she teased. He gave her a weak smile, but his heart wasn’t in it. She rolled off him. Sat up, pulling the blankets around her.
“He’s out there. Waiting. I can almost feel him. My chest is tight. My skin goes all crawly.”
Her sudden departure left him cold. His arms empty. “Ellery, I won’t let him harm you.” And this time he meant it. No lies.
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