Wrath: The Niteclif Evolutions, Book 2

by Denise Tompkins

  “Maddy, they want to meet you. Let me introduce you?” I nodded, and he led me to the doorway where they’d gathered. We went through the formal introductions to each individual—there were eleven people total—and then he shocked the shit out of me when he said, “Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to the new lady of the manor, Madeleine Niteclif.”

  Stifling my indignation at his presumption that I’d come around to his way of thinking, I found myself unsure whether to bow or curtsy. For the second time in only a handful of weeks, I did a combination of both and they all just stared. Hellion choked on his laughter, and I glared at him.

  “Say something to them,” he whispered, red in the face.

  I just thanked them for their service and asked where the dining room was. At this they all chuckled, and Hellion roared with laughter. But I got lunch, and the service was stellar.

  We had just finished eating when his butler, Conor, came in and cleared his throat softly. “Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt but there’s a young man here who claims to urgently need to speak to the lady.”

  Hellion laid his hand over mine. I looked up and met his concerned gaze. We hadn’t told anyone I was here.

  “Did he give a name?” I asked, lifting my wine glass to my lips.

  “He did. It’s Aiden Drago, member of the Blue Dragon Weyr.”

  I choked on my drink, and Hellion rushed to pound me on the back. “Bahlin’s little brother is here?” I croaked.

  “You don’t have to see him, Maddy. I’ll send him away,” he snapped and turned to deal with Aiden.

  “No! No, Hellion. I’d like to see what he wants. Please.” His hands tightened on my shoulders, and I nearly begged him to let Aiden in. I turned to him and asked again, “Please.”

  Hellion’s eyes pulsed differently, dangerously. “He’ll no be takin’ ye from me, mo chroí,” he snarled, “and I’ll no apologize for callin’ ye so.”

  It was the first time I’d heard his accent so pronounced. “I won’t leave with him,” I promised. “Just let me find out what he wants.”

  He stalked away from me then turned and came back toward me, the rage still plain on his face. I had a brief, irrational moment of fear. He saw it and slowed, and I relaxed.

  “I won’t hurt you, and I’m sorry you thought I might.” His voice was stiff and formal. “I’ll see you into the living room and fetch him for you. But I insist on being there, Maddy.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Surprisingly, I meant it. I wouldn’t be alone with a dragon from Bahlin’s weyr for all the gold in a wealthy dragon’s den.

  His eyes pulsed again, and this time it was his heart I saw in them.

  I took his arm, and we walked through the lower level to the same living room we’d come into last night. The room was entirely different in the daytime, with beautiful views of the gardens and soft natural light bringing out the deep reds and browns of the mahogany woodwork.

  Hellion left me seated on a loveseat and went to get Aiden. There was a brief, heated exchange, and I imagined young Aiden trying to force his hand with Hellion. Of course, young Aiden was older than Hellion, but his power was nowhere near formed yet. I worried for his wellbeing. The voices simmered down, and I heard approaching footsteps. I stood just as the two men entered the living room.

  Aiden looked older, aged with anger. He sneered at me and took in the room in one motion. “Didn’t take you long to move on, did it, dear sister?”

  Hellion stood to his full height and glared down at Aiden. “Ye’ll keep a civil tongue in her house, boy,” he rumbled, his manner full of unspoken threat.

  Aiden’s eyebrows shot nearly to his hairline. “Her house?” he choked. “Great goddess, Maddy. What have ye done?”

  I shrugged, unsure what he was asking.

  “Are ye handfasted then?” he demanded.

  Before I could answer, Hellion said, “That’s none of yer concern, Aiden. Why’ve yeh come?”

  The verbal volleys combined with the Irish and Scottish accents had my mind reeling. “I—”

  “Ye owe no one any answers, Madeleine,” Hellion said gently.

  “So does yer man speak for ye then?” Before I could answer, Aiden shook his head and sighed. “There’s nothin’ here for the blue dragons, Maddy. I was wrong to come.”

  Trying to regain a little of my slipping composure, I stood and smoothed my shirt. “How did you know where I was?” I was pissed at having been stuck between two men again when my heart was bleeding for Bahlin. And Aiden looked enough like Bahlin that I couldn’t look away from him. I felt Hellion move closer to me.

  “You’re not the only one with a magician, Niteclif.”

  “Fair enough.” I swallowed hard. “Aiden, can you tell me what happened to Bahlin? I need to know.” The pleading in my voice embarrassed me, but not enough to stop me from asking again. “Please.”

  “You’ve no right to either weyr or family business,” he said, lifting his chin defiantly. “This is both. You’ve clearly chosen your side, Niteclif.”

  “This isn’t about politics, boy. Her heart’s breaking. Bahlin wouldn’t want her to hurt.” Hellion stepped closer to me and laid a comforting hand on my shoulder.

  “You have no idea what Bahlin would want. Neither of you does.” Aiden was visibly trying to gather himself and leave with a good parting shot.

  “Fine. You’ve made your point.” I stepped forward and reached out a hand beseechingly. “Please don’t leave me without something, okay? You can either end the false hope or the false heartache. Do that for me, if for no other reason than that your brother cared for me at one point.”

  “What Bahlin felt doesn’t matter—not anymore. I’ll see you at the meeting tonight.” He turned and walked out without a backwards glance.

  As parting shots went, he’d scored a bull’s eye.

  Aiden’s reference to Bahlin in the past tense had taken me to my knees as he left the room. Hellion picked up the pieces silently, pulling me into strong arms.

  I needed to get my mind off the heartache, so we prepared to immediately return to another of Hellion’s London homes. We were both quiet, neither willing to share what was going on behind shuttered eyes. I would have willingly bet our thoughts centered around the same dragon, though they were probably as far from similar as they could get.

  Our plan was to go to London and poke about a bit, see what we could learn about the murders, then take that to the meeting tonight. We’d have to materialize inside the circle, so the two coven members who had gone after the car were going to set up a protective circle for us to come into that would hide our activity from prying eyes. Only luck had hidden us when we’d dematerialized the night before, and I knew enough not to count on her benevolence twice.

  Hellion and I came back together in the master bedroom of his Lees Place home. It was still disconcerting as hell to me when we popped in and out of places. I took my jacket off and tossed it on the chair near his bed. My overnight bag had been delivered here at some point, and it was both comforting and foreign—the familiar in the unfamiliar place.

  Hellion went into his closet to change out of his heavy sweater. He emerged in a soft, plaid flannel that looked like it had seen no less than a hundred washings. I was about to touch the shirt when I heard footsteps along the hallway’s wood floor, and the bedroom door opened.

  “I apologize, sir, I had no idea you had, er, company,” stammered an average, forgettable young man.

  “She’s not ‘company,’ Mark. She’s my… She’s my…” Hellion was truly stumped about how to introduce me.

  “I’m his partner,” I answered for him.

  “No, she’s more than that. She’s my…”

  I was honestly a little amused at Hellion’s discomfort, and held out a hand to Mark, who seemed genuinely startled at my greeting. He shook it tentatively and looked at Hellion.

  “She’s my anamchara.” He stood up straighter and made a sweeping gesture with his hand, clea
rly proud to have come up with some type of titled introduction. Mark, who was obviously British, looked confused. “My soul mate, man,” Hellion groused, disgruntled to have to spell it out.

  “Don’t let him insult you, Mark. Hell, I’m American, and half the time I don’t know what he’s spouting off about in that strange brogue of his.” I smiled sweetly and Hellion just glowered back.

  “Pay the woman in compliments—”

  “And get your ass handed back to you as change. Probably a lesson best learned early with me if we’re going to be spending much time together.”

  Mark snorted with laughter and had to step out of the room for a moment, presumably to compose himself. I could hear him guffawing just outside, and his sincere laughter set me at ease. But that was short lived when I realized what I’d said. “If we’re going to be spending much time together.” It was a shock to realize Hellion’s faith in the prophecy was wearing me down, that a small part of me was busy hating myself for being so inconsequential with my affections while another part of me was relieved to have at least acknowledged I was alive and Bahlin’s death hadn’t killed me. The prophecy, that horrid prophecy, had rocked my entire belief system, and I was irrationally angry. The longer I thought about it, the angrier I got.

  “Damn you, Odin,” I screamed.

  Hellion jumped and clapped a hand over my mouth.

  I bit him and tasted blood.

  “Sod it all, Madeleine,” he roared and shook his hand. Blood flew in a fine arc from his hand and I watched, temporarily transfixed, as it splattered against the pale wall and begin to slide slowly down. He muttered under his breath, and my voice was gone again.

  I flipped him off and stormed into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind me. I turned on the water to the shower and screamed in silence. Not the first time I’d reacted like a bug nut.

  The door flew open and Hellion stormed in. I slipped as I turned to face him, cracking my head against the edge of the counter. I grabbed my scalp, feeling for blood before I stood and started to fling things at Hellion—hairdryer, toothbrush, brush, towels, anything I could reach.

  He reached out and snagged me around the waist and hauled me back to the bedroom, tossing me on to the bed and falling on top of me. I was mutely cussing him actively and creatively when he gave my voice back.

  “… stupid, fucking toad spawn, I’ll rip your balls off and boil them in your damn cauldron and make dick soup to feed the dog you son of a—”

  “Dick soup?” he asked, calmly, pinning my hands over my head. We were both breathing hard.

  “Get the hell off me,” I panted, unable to quit struggling despite his superior strength.

  He shifted to his side and rolled me with him, keeping my arms pinned. Dumbass forgot about my legs.

  “You’re one good push from singing soprano, asshole,” I spit out, shoving my knee between his legs and into the soft sacs of his testicles. He clamped down with his thighs. I reared back and head-butted him. Unfortunately he was so tall I only reached his chin, and I split my forehead open. “Son of a bitch!”

  The door banged open and Mark the butler stood there staring at us, unsure whom to aid first.

  “Out,” Hellion bellowed. The door shut quietly again.

  “Slam the fucking door, Mark. You’ll feel better, trust me,” I yelled after him.

  “Don’t encourage the staff, Madeleine,” Hellion growled. He rolled away from me, and we both lay there breathing heavily.

  I swiped the blood out of my eyes but it wasn’t enough. I got up with a groan. That I was going to be sore all over from such a brief tussle was embarrassing. I had to get back in shape. I rolled off the bed and stumbled into the bathroom. Grabbing a hand towel to hold to my head, I rinsed the blood from my face one-handed in the sink. I looked up into the wide bathroom mirror to check the split and saw Hellion standing behind me.

  “Let me see,” he said softly. I turned to face him, and he lifted the edge of the towel from the wound. It was minor.

  “Can you fix it?” I asked.

  “Yes, but I won’t.” He laid three fingers across my lips to stop my response. “I won’t for two reasons. First, you got what you were after, which was a fight. I swore I’d never fight with you over him. Second, it would cost me something to heal a self-inflicted wound you earned while fighting with me, and I need all my power for tonight.”

  “What’s the big deal about tonight?” I asked.

  He looked at me funny. “The Blue Dragon Weyr will be there, Maddy.”

  “But there’s no fighting inside the circle, right?”

  “No, there’s no fighting. But if I get physically pushed outside, it’s considered a legitimate tactic and I’ll have to fight.”

  “That’s not fair!”

  He shook his head, dabbing at the wound on my forehead. The bleeding had almost stopped so he reached under the counter and grabbed a small case, extracting a tiny butterfly bandage. He smiled as he stuck the bandage on. “No, love, it’s not fair, but fighting rarely is.” He tapped my forehead gently, and I grimaced at the obviousness of it all.

  I laid a hand across his wrist and met his eyes in the mirror. “I’m sorry.”

  He paused briefly then went back to cleaning up the counter. “For what?”

  Embarrassment flushed my skin with color. I stepped aside to give him access to the trashcan. “This. All of it. I’m not sure exactly what pushed me over the edge. Just…all of it, I guess.”

  “Understandable.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help? Tonight, I mean.” I asked. Fear made my stomach hurt. So many things to juggle, politics to interpret and vaguely mapped responsibilities to take care of.

  “Stick by me, no matter what.”

  “Is there anything I need to know before we get there?”

  “Nothing I can predict with certainty. If it comes to a fight, though, the gloves will be off and things will get dirty fast. “

  “Good to know.”

  It was lost on neither of us that I hadn’t promised him anything.

  We went down to an early dinner. Mark met us in the dining room, his actions careful and measured as he set plates in front of us.

  “I’m sorry, Mark.” He jumped at the sound of my voice, making me feel even worse about fighting in front of him. “Forgive me?”

  He blushed, stuttered and left the room.

  “What did I say?”

  Hellion chuckled under his breath. “You don’t owe him an apology, Maddy.”

  “That’s rude! Of course I do. Otherwise he’ll think I’m horrible.”

  “So?” He continued to cut up his grilled chicken, indifferent to the situation.

  “So? Are you always this insensitive?” I grumped. “And why can’t you put ice in anything you drink? Coke is meant to be cold.”

  He smiled and called loudly, “Mark.”

  “You asshat,” I said just as Mark came through the door. He backed out. “What did he… Not again. Mark!”

  He stepped through, looking at neither of us. “Ma’am?”

  “I’m sorry. That last was for Hellion.”

  Mark’s eyes darted to me and back to the floor. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Hellion snorted. “She’d like some ice.”

  “Yes, sir.” Mark quickly turned to leave.

  “I’m also sorry about you seeing us fight earlier. It’s, um, I’m not always like that,” I said to his retreating form. He stopped and turned to offer me some small platitude.

  Before Mark could reply, Hellion paused and opened his mouth, and I just knew something foul was about to come out of it. He swallowed and said, “No, usually we’re not fighting, unless you count—”

  “You pig,” I yelled, throwing a roll at him.

  He fielded it nicely. “Years of lacrosse, dear. You’ll have to do better than—ouch!”

  The spoon hit him in the head.

  “Years of watching Major League Baseball, chump, so I will.”

>   Mark backed out of the room and burst out laughing.

  “The staff won’t respect me any longer if you keep this up,” Hellion said, sounding pained. “Mark.”

  Mark stepped back in the room yet again, his face red as he tried to keep from laughing. “Sir?”

  “You came into my room earlier for a reason. What was it, man?”

  “Ah, it was about the, ah, news, sir. You asked me to watch for further news…”

  “Maddy’s aware of the murders, Mark. You understand she’s the Niteclif, right?”

  Mark’s eyes grew wide, and he looked between us both quickly. Then he leaned out the door and called out, “Kendall, Stearns, Mary.” Looking back at me he said, “That’s the maid, the driver and the cook, ma’am.”

  The two women and one man walked into the dining room and froze, obviously unsure what to make of Hellion dining with a woman.

  “Ladies and gent, this is the Niteclif, the master’s new mistress.”

  I flinched at the word, and Mark stumbled over himself trying to undo the offense.

  “I’m, um, not exactly a mistress.”

  “I apologize—”

  “No, no.” I waved my hand as if clearing the air. “No worries.”

  Hellion reached over and took my hand, rubbing my knuckles with his thumb. “Madeleine is my heart’s blood, my trial and temptation, and the prophesied love of my life. She’s nobody’s mistress.” He smiled, and his face went from handsome to beautiful and all the women in the room, including me, sighed just a bit. He wiped his mouth, and Mark stepped forward quickly to draw out his chair. Hellion waved him off and stood to pull my chair out for me.

  Rising, I turned back to Mark. “What was it you came in to tell us? Hellion. I mean, Hellion and me. I mean—”

  “For the love, Maddy, just stop. He’s really going to think we’re sleeping together if you don’t quit.”

  I rounded on him, ready to tear into him only to find him pinching his lips together behind my back.

  “Your face. Odin save me, you have murder in your eye over such a natural thing.” Laughter won out.