Black Dog: A Christmas Story (Knights of Black Swan Book 13)

by Victoria Danann

  Elora nodded. “You know he wouldn’t just walk off.”

  Rammel nodded in return. “Aye. I do know that.”

  “And he’s not here.”

  “Know that as well.”

  “Well, what does it mean?”

  They heard the mud room door followed by the sounds of elflings kicking off snowy boots. They waited until Helm and the girls came in.

  Helm looked grief-stricken and like he’d rather cut open his veins than tell his mother they’d failed to find Blackie. “He’s no’ here, Mum.”

  Elora shared a long look with Helm before turning back to Ram.

  Ram didn’t wait to be asked his opinion on what to do next. He liked Blackie, always had and was glad to have him around. But he’d never bonded to Blackie with the depth of connection that Helm and Elora shared for that dog. With two pairs of identical and bereft turquoise eyes staring at him with faith that he’d have a plan, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to recover the mostly black dog.

  Ram held up his phone. That was the last of the neighbors to call, the Widow Sweeney. He looked at Elora. “She said to thank ye kindly again for the feast. Her son came last night with a friend and she was proud as punch to have somethin’ to serve.”

  Elora said nothing as her eyes wandered toward the windows, a part of her hoping that she’d see Blackie bounding toward the house.

  Ram sighed. “If he’s no’ here and the neighbors have no’ seen him, I think we have no choice but to ask for a little help from our friends.”

  Elora’s eyes flew wide. “Of course! Litha!” She grabbed for Ram’s phone.

  Litha had come down with a cold two days before. She was sneezy and stuffy and had intermittent bouts of fever. She’d sent Storm to have brunch with his family without her. He said he’d bring back some of everything for her, but she wasn’t interested in food.

  “You swear you’ll call if your fever comes back. Fever could be dangerous for the baby,” Storm said.

  Litha lied and promised. She had no intention of interrupting Storm’s Yule with his parents and siblings. No matter what.

  “I’m leaving the phone right here.” Storm put the phone on the table next to the leather recliner where Litha was outfitted with tissues, a pot of tea with honey, and enough blankets to keep a snowman warm.

  “Okay.” She waved. “Have a good time. Tell everybody I wish I was there.” He leaned down to kiss her, but she held up her hand. “Get away from me. I’m probably contagious.”

  He stood up smirking. “Alright. Going.” He looked back over his shoulder. “You’d better call if you need anything.”

  “I will.”

  “I’ll be mad if you don’t.”

  “Great Paddy.”

  Storm couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

  He’d been gone long enough for Litha to doze off when the phone rang. There were only a handful of people who would have gotten an answer. Elora was one of them.

  “Hello.”

  “Oh my gods, Litha. You sound AWFUL! What’s the matter?”

  “Cold.”

  “Oh.” Pause. “How bad?”

  “Bad enough I sent Storm to his family celebration without me. And I’m super pissed about it. Witches don’t get colds. Demons don’t get colds. But I’ve got this tiny little bit of human somewhere in here that’s weak and vulnerable and generally useless.”

  “Yeah. That’s pretty bad.” Pause. “How’s the baby?”

  “Good.” Litha’s hand automatically went to her tummy when the subject of the baby came up. “He or she, and don’t ask because I’m not telling, is practicing some of those moves you teach the knights-to-be, usually when I want to sleep. So what’s up?” When Elora didn’t answer, she added, “You might as well tell me. I can hear it in your voice.”

  “Hear what?”

  “That something’s wrong.”

  “Oh. Well. I…”

  Ram took the phone away. “Litha. Blackie’s missin’. My mate and firstborn are in a state. We’ve called the neighbors and looked everywhere there is to look. We were hopin’ you might have a look?”

  Litha had brought the chair up to a full upright position. “I don’t know if I can track when I’m sick. Certainly not from here. Maybe from there.”

  “I know ‘tis a lot to ask when you’re under the weather.”

  “You guys not afraid of germs?”

  He lowered his voice and whispered into the phone. “Between you and me, what scares me most in the world is no’ findin’ that dog.”

  Litha sighed and then sneezed. “I’ll be there soon.”

  She ended that call and selected Storm.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  “Blackie’s missing.”

  Of all the things Storm was prepared to hear when he saw that Litha was calling, that wasn’t one of them. He ran through the reasons why Ram or Elora would have called Litha with that news and quickly put together that they were hoping the tracker could find the dog.

  “Criminently. I like Blackie as much as the next person…”

  “No, you don’t,” she interrupted. “You tolerate Blackie.”

  “Alright. So I’m not the world’s biggest ‘dog person’.” He put that in air quotes even though Litha couldn’t see. “I was just going to say that you’re staying right where you are until you’re well.”

  “It’s not about the dog, Storm. It’s about the people who love him. Although… remember when that dog found Elora for you? The way I heard it, she was being shredded by vampire and you guys didn’t know where to begin looking?” When she paused, she heard him sigh and knew he’d give in. “I told them I’d be there in a few minutes. The question isn’t whether or not I’m going. The question is, do you want to go or do you want to stay?”

  Even with his hand over the phone mic, she could hear the choice words he had to say. “I’d like to talk you out of that.”

  “Not happening.” She sneezed.

  “And that’s why. You’re sick!”

  “But I’m not dead. Elora would do it for me and you know it.”

  He was silent for a minute. “That’s beside the point.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. That is the point. I’ve used up my allotted time for an invite-the-husband-to-a-dog-hunt phone call. Going? Or staying?”

  “Have I told you I don’t like it when you get all adamant?”

  “Hanging up now.”

  “Going.”

  “Good. Hurry.”

  On the way back to the vineyard, Storm called Ram.

  “Aye. Thought you might call.”

  “I guess we’re on the way.”

  “Aye.”

  “How are things there?”

  “Have a family that is inconsolable and a mystery that has me stymied.” When Storm didn’t reply, Ram’s intuition went on alert. “You know somethin’. What are ye no’ sayin’?”

  “This is just for you because it’s probably unlikely and I don’t want to cause more worry than necessary.”

  “Spit it out.”

  “I’ve heard that dogs like Blackie get napped for illegal gambling.”

  Ram shot out of the chair, walked into the other room out of earshot, and lowered his voice so that even Helm’s ears wouldn’t hear him say, “Dog fights?”

  “It’s just a wild thought.”

  “Great Paddy. So far ‘tis the only thing that makes a lick of sense. Thank the gods your wife is on the way.”

  “You’re making a habit of relying on her.”

  “Aye. ‘Tis no’ the first time she’s pulled our asses out of the mire. If I were you, I would no’ be thinkin’ this is the last.”

  “Under the circumstances, we won’t be coming with pecan pie and poinsettias.”

  “No’ expected. Just bring yourselves. We have pie.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Litha and Storm appeared near the rear door. They knew the Hawkings didn’t bother to heat the front part of the downstairs during winter. />
  Reaching past Litha, Storm raised a hand to knock, but the door flew open and Helm grabbed Litha into a hug. “You’re goin’ to find him, are you no’, Auntie?”

  Helm’s plea was pitiful as he balanced on the teeter totter of post-pubescence between childhood and manhood.

  She pushed him away. “Get away now, Helm. I’m sick and you don’t want this.”

  “I’m no’ gettin’ sick,” he said with certain assurance that he could control such things.

  “Can we come in?” Storm said. “It’s cold out here.”

  Helm gave Storm a sad, but sheepish smile. “Sorry. O’course…”

  Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by Elora pushing past intending to drag Litha into the kitchen.

  “Hold on, would you?” Storm protested. “We’re still attached.” He took a key out of a zippered pocket on his fleece vest and unlocked the handcuffs that had bound them together for the journey.

  As soon as Litha was free, Elora pulled her away. “Sit here by the fire,” she said. When the house had been renovated, Elora had insisted on a small, waist-high kitchen fireplace. She pulled a leather armchair out for Litha. “I’ll make tea. Lemon Chamomile?”

  “You’ve learned how to boil water?” Litha asked.

  “I see you’re not too sick to crack jokes,” Elora said.

  “That sounds good. With honey,” Litha said just before sneezing into the tissue she held tightly in her hand.

  Storm fished a fresh box of lotion-treated tissues out of a hastily put together overnight bag and set it on the table in front of Litha.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Where are Gale and Gavain?”

  “Upstairs. Hooked up to some electronic device no doubt,” Elora said.

  By the time the kettle was whistling, Ram had returned from taking care of the animals, and greeted the guests. The four adults sat at the kitchen table sharing tea, or cocoa, while Helm stood silently waiting for better news.

  “I don’t know if I can track at all with this.” Litha waved at her head. “But I brought a couple of things.”

  “Can we help?” Elora said.

  “Honestly no. Tracking is a solitary activity. I’ll do best on my own. So I hate to run you out of your own kitchen…” She didn’t have to ask them twice. Ram, Elora, and Helm were on their feet and ready to vacate. Litha read the question in Storm’s eyes. “Go on with them. Let me do my thing.”

  Storm’s hesitation was miniscule, but Litha noticed. He hated that she was sick. He shuffled away dragging worn square-toed boots across the ancient wide-plank floor that the Hawkings had kept intact.

  Elora curled into Ram on the crewel print sofa, taking comfort in his feel and his smell.

  “How’re things at the vineyard?” Ram said.

  “Heading into the slowest time of the year. This is when I usually catch up with my wife. Some of the wineries give tours. We don’t.”

  Ram grunted. “So you can just sit around and gaze into each other’s navels?”

  “Rammel!” Elora slapped at his bicep.

  “We could,” Storm said without missing a beat, “and it wouldn’t hurt the business.”

  Ram shook his head. “Can’t imagine. Wolf-dogs and sheep have to be tended every damn day of the year.”

  “Can’t you hire somebody to help?” Storm asked.

  “Yes!” Elora said. “He’s just complaining because we let them stay home for Yule.”

  Storm smiled, knowing that Ram had just made a play for sympathy. “Wow.” He looked at Ram. “You never change.”

  “How about you, Storm?” Elora asked. “Have you changed?”

  Storm looked at Elora a little too long for Ram’s liking before shrugging. “Not much I guess.”

  “Good,” said Elora. “We wouldn’t want you to.”

  Storm didn’t get a chance to reply. Litha more or less burst into the room. She looked at Helm and said, “You need to leave the room so I can use the words that are on my mind.”

  Helm sighed deeply. “I imagine I’ve heard them, Auntie.”

  “Still,” she insisted. “You haven’t heard them in front of me.”

  “Litha,” Elora said, “do you know something?”

  Litha sneezed so violently it made her entire body jump. “Judas Priest!”

  “Okay. You got me,” Helm said. “I have no’ heard that one.”

  Ignoring that, Litha said, “You know that thing people like to say about a little knowledge being dangerous? Well, I know something, but it’s not enough to help and it might even take us in the wrong direction. So I’m torn about whether or not to even say. Plus, what if this…” she waved at her head again, “is causing false positives?”

  Elora cocked her head. “Has that ever happened?”

  “No. But I’ve never been this sick. I’m just not sure how it affects my ability to track.”

  Elora exchanged a long look with Ram. To an outsider it might have appeared that they were sharing a silent conversation. When her eyes came back to Litha, she said, “Tell us what you know.”

  “I don’t want to.” Litha crossed her arms over her pregnant tummy. Seeing that Elora was taking on more intensity, she added, “You would not hurt a pregnant witch.”

  Ram stood up. “No. She would no’. But I might.”

  Storm stepped in front of Litha like he thought there might be a possibility that Rammel was serious.

  “Get me Song,” Litha said abruptly.

  That stopped everyone in their tracks. Ram, Elora, and Storm all said, “Song?” in unison.

  “Clearly you heard me. All of you. Hurry up.”

  “Litha,” Storm said quietly, hoping to calm her. “You’re the only one of us who can move people semi-instantly. And you’re too sick to do it.”

  “Nonsense.” She waved a tissue and then sneezed so hard it almost shook the old house. “Where is she, Ram?”

  Storm was shaking his head. “No. You should be in bed.”

  “Do you have a cowbell?” Litha asked, once again causing everyone in the room to look at each other. Elora mouthed ‘cowbell’ at Ram who shook his head.

  “Why would you think we’d have a cowbell, Litha? We don’t have cows,” Ram said.

  Litha’s eyes bugged out. “Because…! Don’t all rockers have cowbells?”

  Ram blinked a few times. “Great Paddy. I might actually have a cowbell in a case somewhere. Mind if I ask why you need it?”

  “I don’t want to be rude. But yes. I mind.”

  Helm stepped forward. “I’ll help you look, Da. Where do ye think it might be?”

  Ram let his head fall back before saying, “The cases stored in the music room cabinets. Somewhere in there. If I do even have one.”

  “Did you ever actually use cowbell in, em, music?” Helm asked.

  Ram’s smile was all the answer required.

  When they’d left the room, Storm said, “Why do you want a cowbell, Litha? You need to tell me so I don’t think you’re hallucinating.”

  “I’m going to use it to call Lally.”

  Storm rolled his eyes. “Yeah. That’s exactly what we need. A fuck-up angel added into the mix.”

  Litha gaped. “Kellareal is not a fuck-up angel.”

  “Really?” Storm challenged. “Tell that to Rosie.”

  “Most of the time,” Litha amended.

  “Why in hel’s name would you want to get his attention?”

  “Because I might not feel good enough to go get Song, but he could.”

  Storm’s nostrils flared as he thought that over. He glanced at Elora before admitting that, “Okay. So there’s nothing wrong with your logic. If you feel like you have to have Song here, and you haven’t clued us in on that, getting that…” Litha gave Storm a warning look. “That angel to do it is a good option. Now why don’t you lie down and give Ram and Helm a chance to run down your cowbell.”

  Elora pulled pillows off the sofa to make a comfortable place for Litha to lie down. While she
was doing it, she said, “I don’t suppose you’d tell me, your best friend, whose dog is missing, why you’re demanding an appearance from Song?”

  Litha stared up into Elora’s eyes with a depth of sincerity that couldn’t be denied before saying, “No.”

  Twenty minutes later Ram and Helm emerged from the music room victorious. Seeing that Litha was sound asleep, Ram hesitated. When he looked down at the cowbell, Storm said, “If you wake her up with that thing, I will beat your ass bloody in front of your mate and offspring.”

  Ram looked at the cowbell, looked at Storm, smiled his wickedest smile and began ringing the cowbell as Storm lunged and tackled Ram to the floor, knocking over a table and lamp in the process.

  Litha came awake instantly. “Storm! What the…?” Seeing Ram and Storm wrestling on the floor while a very wide-eyed Helm looked on, she turned to Elora. “Do something? You’re the only one who can break this up.”

  Elora glanced at Litha. “Break this up? I’ll be able to call my mate an idiot over this for years to come.”

  Litha looked down. “That’s a good point. But tick tock.”

  Elora separated the two knights fairly easily. “Storm, Litha is fine. Ram, we have more important things to do.”

  “Give me that,” Litha said as she snatched the cowbell from Ram’s hand. She rang it three times and said, “Lally. Lally. Lally.”

  Helm looked at Storm and said, “Really? That’s all there is to magic?”

  Storm took his hand away from scrubbing down his face, shook his head, and said, “Sometimes, I guess.”

  “Huh.” Helm seemed genuinely impressed with the simplicity of what he’d witnessed.

  Kellareal appeared in the living room as an eight-foot blonde angel in tight white leather pants and wings that would have taken up the entire room if unfurled.

  It was Litha’s turn to roll her eyes. “Knock it off. It’s not prank day. We have a situation.”

  Kellareal immediately collapsed to his guise as the handsome Irishman Finrar, all six foot of black leather. He was still blonde. Just more masculine somehow. “What’s the problem?” He looked at Litha more closely. “You sick?”