by Dianna Love
Ruadh grumbled low. Queen and druid must die for curse.
His dragon had been patient. He deserved to rip Queen Maeve and Cathbad the Druid to pieces for what they’d done to Daegan and his dragon, but everything in its time. You are right, Ruadh, and that day will likely come as neither of them can be content with what they have. They will make a mistake and we shall be there to see that they pay for the transgressions against us. Until then, we must take care of how we move forward and locate the grimoire volumes.
The Luigsech woman seemed angry with this Cavan, but that did not absolve her from being in league with a supernatural being.
Just what was going on with those two?
The woman gripped the bike’s handlebar with a strangle hold. Tristan’s quiet words floated through Daegan’s mind. Looks like Cavan is ready to leave.
Daegan warned Tristan again, Teleport away immediately if you suspect this Cavan realizes you follow him.
Tristan replied, I’m on it.
As Cavan strolled away from the woman, Tristan melted into the scenery, headed in the same direction while remaining fifty feet back from the main thoroughfare.
The Luigsech woman rolled away, but not pedaling so casually this time. Her face muscles tightened and she glanced all around, looking more suspicious by the moment. As she drew close to where Daegan had stepped next to a scrawny tree but still cloaked from view, his gaze went to her hand that trembled when she reached to adjust the bag in her basket.
Her bike hit a pothole and wobbled.
Out of instinct, he leaned forward to grab her before she fell, but pulled back.
What was he going to do?
Jump out and expose his presence to someone he had yet to rule out as an enemy?
She righted herself without falling. That’s when he got a good look at the fierce determination in her gaze. He didn’t think it had anything to do with her bicycling skills so much as figuring out something that Cavan had said to upset her.
The moment she passed by, Daegan kept his cloaking up and stepped out to follow her. He had no trouble jogging to within twenty feet behind. In fact, he enjoyed the chance to run at an easy gait, which allowed him to take in the countryside before the horizon swallowed the sun.
Another sunset his captured people were missing.
His mind lurched to Devon, Renata, and the others, keeping his focus tight.
The longer Luigsech pedaled, the more her shoulders relaxed until she spun the wheels smoothly. The road she took was unpaved, but covered in grit and dirt beaten down by years of travelers, sheep, and cattle roaming. A dusty truck rumbled toward her. It dropped two wheels off the road out of consideration.
She waved at the man driving and continued on.
Old wooden fence posts of rough cut logs had been sunken along the left side of the road long ago and still managed to contain cattle grazing in fields where the lavender heather blanketed the land. On his right, the hills began to rise. Locals still farmed the uneven land and raised their herds on the slanted ground as they had in Daegan’s time.
Either Luigsech had slowed or he’d picked up his pace, but the sound of her voice startled him into realizing he was within ten feet of her. He eased back.
Long shadows spread across the gentle hills. Night would shroud this area soon with no streetlights as in a city like Atlanta.
She began singing a song he didn’t recognize, but the tune had a lilt worthy of an Irish heart. Her sweet voice needed no instruments. The lass must be in good shape to ride her bike up and down these hills on a far simpler version compared to elaborate bicycles he’d seen in Atlanta.
His chest slowly eased. He’d been angry for so long with his people being attacked, he’d forgotten what a moment of peace felt like. Running along behind a pretty young woman singing a love ballad went a long way to calming his soul, if only for a few minutes.
When she took a right turn, she stood up to pedal hard, pushing her bike up a narrow incline that curved around and eventually opened into a setting that belonged in a painting.
The white stone cottage that probably held no more than two or three rooms had a high-pitched roof with a chimney stack on each end. A shorter roofed entrance jutted out from the center of the building with a bright yellow wooden door. Frames around the windows had been trimmed in a deep gold paint. A large barrel sat at the corner capturing rainwater from a spout.
Wildflowers had been planted on each side of the walkway. Ivy crawled up this side of the entrance. He recalled the yellow flowers with the odd scent of coconut, but not the name.
She stepped off the bike and leaned it beside the house then grabbed her bag of groceries. As she took a step, she paused and turned slowly.
Daegan had a moment of debating if he should hide, but she could not see through his cloaking.
She took in everything, then stared right at him.
His breath caught at being pinned by those searing blue eyes. Could she see him?
Shrugging to herself, she entered the building and closed the door.
So she hadn’t seen him, but had clearly sensed someone close.
He walked to the house and placed his head next to the door, listening, but heard nothing. Cloaking could dull sounds at times. He needed to find a window.
Moving around the house, he put his back to the wall and eased over to the window on the left side of the entrance. He peeked through sheer curtains. Candlelight inside the room chased away the dark. He heard her voice again, but not singing.
Who could she be talking to? Was someone else inside?
His mind went to Cavan. Daegan’s instinct warned the glamoured being who had met with Luigsech today could not be dismissed.
She specialized in locating old books.
Could Cavan have been hunting the grimoire?
Daegan dropped his cloaking then leaned his ear close to the window.
“What do you expect me to do when I need you? I have a duty. We all do. Yours is to support me if I have to battle.”
He could see her moving around, but no other person inside.
She kept up her demands. “As soon as I finish eating, we’re goin’ to find Fenella and get her out of here.”
She made a banging noise, which he figured out were sounds from a kitchen.
Cooking? Probably.
Distracted? Definitely
No better time than now to get his answers.
Chapter 19
Having lived on the streets much of his early life after escaping a witch, Tristan knew how to be silent and invisible.
Following Cavan presented little problem.
Tristan had picked up even more stealth skills while imprisoned by majik in a South American jungle through no fault of his own.
That bitch goddess Macha had stuck him there because he’d been born an Alterant, half Belador and half Medb blood. It did warm his soul to know she’d feared Alterants even before they evolved into gryphons.
Carrying the blood of his enemy was fucked up enough, but Macha had penalized him and other Alterants for something none of them could have changed. Then Queen Maeve and Cathbad the Druid thought to possess all of his gryphon pack, since those two had been behind the crossbreeding. They’d planned to compel gryphons to do their wet work.
Not now.
The day Tristan and his Belador friends rescued Daegan from TÅμr Medb then broke the curse holding him, Daegan threw Macha out of Treoir.
Being of King Gruffyn’s immediate family, he could do that sort of thing.
Best day ever.
Tristan bet Macha never saw that coming. Bonus.
If Tristan had a calendar, he’d mark the date to celebrate each year since he could count the best days of his life on one hand. The other four had been spent with Mac.
She’d love this place.
He should bring her here sometime when he wasn’t hunting a preternatural. In fact, he should do a better job of spending time with Mac when this all settled down and he could
insure her safety.
At what point would his life ever settle down?
Maybe never. That was okay.
Tristan would do whatever Daegan needed, be his right-hand man for as long as Daegan wanted him. No one had ever looked at him and seen anything but an Alterant beast even after he’d evolved into a gryphon. He’d been at the butt end of life for so long and Daegan opened up a whole new world for him.
For the first time ever, he felt respected.
Cavan slowed the steady stride he’d been at for the last twenty minutes and turned off the main thoroughfare. He headed into a wooded area thicker than before, but stayed on a hard-packed path. He seemed to be in no rush.
Was Cavan meeting someone else or heading home?
Tristan had a difficult time believing that being lived anywhere around here because of the glamour. How was Daegan doing following that unknown Luigsech woman? Tristan had a moment of concern about Daegan going without backup, but that dragon shifter could handle himself in any situation.
Tristan had been present when Daegan backed down three deities, while the two of them stood in the Tribunal realm. Few things could harm Daegan, but being attacked in an unfriendly realm upped the chances of him being killed.
His boss should be fine in his homeland.
Daegan’s knowledge of the players from so many centuries ago and their lack of knowledge about the identity of his goddess mother kept everyone from risking a power play.
But that didn’t mean they weren’t all strategizing how to take out the Treoir dragon shifter.
Tristan executed a quick zigzag to avoid making noises as he paralleled Cavan’s route. He picked his way carefully over dried leaves and branches that had fallen.
Cavan paused and lifted his head, turning it from side to side, as if looking for something.
Or someone.
The guy stepped off the path as if he’d found what he’d been searching for.
Tristan hurried his steps, grumbling silently at the unexpected shift in direction.
He stopped short and squatted down to watch through an opening in underbrush as Cavan circled back to his right, pausing again every few steps. Then he’d stare up at the trees overhead from time to time.
What was he doing now?
Suddenly, Cavan flipped around and started walking the other way this time.
After making that pass, he stood still for a moment then shook his head and heaved a deep breath. Then he struck out deeper into the woods.
Tristan hurried to follow the circular path Cavan had taken to figure out what he’d been looking for above his head. He kept an eye on Cavan as the strange guy moved slowly through an area of thicker vegetation.
Once Tristan determined if there was anything of note here, he’d teleport to catch up to the druid. He quickly finished tracing Cavan’s steps then did an about-face and walked back the other way. Nothing up in the trees.
Nothing weird stood out.
When next he checked on Cavan, the guy had continued on a straight path until he’d had to sidestep around two fallen trees.
Losing patience with this meandering that seemed to go nowhere, Tristan hurried to finish the half circle path, then did his best to track the straight line to Cavan.
He started to teleport to catch up, but he reconsidered. Too risky to make a disturbance when he landed again if he did not know exactly where his feet would hit. Tristan had fifty feet until he reached the two trees Cavan had circumvented.
Deep in the woods with the sun having set, twilight made it harder to keep an eye on the squirrely guy until Tristan realized this weirdo had a pale glow about him.
Was Cavan creating the glow for a way to see?
None of this made sense because—
Tristan plowed into an invisible energy field at full force.
The power reached for him.
That bastard had probably set an obstacle to keep anyone from tracking him. Tristan remained calm. He’d worked his way out of other situations. Cavan continued walking without turning around, which he wouldn’t be doing if this was a trap, right?
Tristan tried to pull backward from the invisible net, but the energy felt like a sticky web. Next he tried to teleport and got nowhere. So the invisible web interfered with his teleporting, huh?
He called up his gryphon close to the surface for more power. His head altered shape. His jaw dropped, enlarging for huge fangs, and he snarled.
He batted his fists at the energy, pushing deep into it. His legs dragged against what felt like a rubbery gel.
Fuck it. He called up his gryphon to shift.
Daegan would back him doing this in the human realm, but his boss couldn’t help him if Tristan didn’t survive. His gryphon pushed hard to be freed, cracking his bones and stretching muscles, painfully slow.
Tristan would break free of this or call Daegan.
His body stopped halfway through the shift.
Oh, shit.
Chapter 20
“How am I goin’ to escape?” Casidhe muttered, still ranting at the world as she warmed a pot of stew she’d pulled from her freezer this morning to thaw. Cooking for one meant leftovers, but she liked having food she’d cooked again.
She snatched up her mobile phone to call Fenella for the fifth time. No answer. Fenella complained she only got a tower at work, but she tended to show up at work without her phone some days. Had she walked out with her phone today? Casidhe couldn’t recall. It might have been in Fenella’s purse.
Was she even carrying a phone on her trip to the goat farm?
Probably not.
Why couldn’t that woman keep the blasted phone with her just in case she got a tower connection?
When the call went to voicemail, Casidhe said, “It’s me. Important.” She never said much on electronics. Herrick had been right to not trust them, but if he’d had a satellite phone this past week, she wouldn’t have taken off on that trek.
Stirring the stew brought the wonderful smell of home to her. Could she do anything else while she waited to talk to Fenella? She had the sword hidden safely from sight even though no one knocked on her door at night.
But what if Cavan showed up?
She had no idea exactly what he was other than powerful.
If he came here, could he find the sword just by sensing its power? He had no reason to visit her tonight. What did he really want other than expecting her to just drop what she was doing and leave to hunt a freaking book with him?
What was so important about the Immortuos Grimoire? In Latin, immortuos translated as dead.
Her stomach grumbled at being empty for so long, but her earlier terror had dampened her appetite.
Should I try to coax the sword from the sheath and work with it? she ruminated silently, tired of talking to an empty room. How am I goin’ to deal with someone like Cavan if I’m unarmed?
Of course, having a sword that refused to leave the sheath left her just as defenseless.
Cavan would likely be at the archival centre no later than ten in the morning, but he might arrive early. If he did, he’d know when Fenella showed up and would notice her missing when he walked in.
She really had to find Fenella tonight.
She had no idea if she could even find the grimoire and he expected her to regardless of what she said.
He also believed she’d go willingly with him.
The minute Fenella was out of danger, Casidhe would have freedom to make any decision in dealing with Cavan. If she knew what kind of majik wielder he was, she might consider escaping, but he’d sounded too confident he could find her.
Scooping the stew into a bowl and breaking off a chunk of stale bread she should have tossed this morning, she moved to the table next to one of the front windows. Her home might seem small to others, but she needed no more than this large room that provided enough space for a kitchen, a two-seat dining table, and a well-used sofa she tossed a throw over to cover a few tears. She had a nice size bedroom with a
small bathroom. No problem, since she’d always kept her personal belongings neat.
She’d never brought a man here.
It would have felt weird, because the home had belonged to Fenella’s squire family for many generations.
The only time she’d been interested in someone sexually had been back during her days at the university in England. That had lasted three months.
Two and a half months longer than it should have, but she’d been lonely, so sue her.
The long winter months here were just as lonely, but at least she loved this cottage and had felt at home from the moment she moved in.
One day, she’d live with her clan at the castle and find a nice young man who understood her life. All she’d find here would be clueless humans.
Lifting a spoon of stew, she blew on the hot broth.
A chill rushed over her skin as once more she had a feeling of being watched. What the hell? She immediately called up her protective energy to shield her powers.
The sensation of being stalked heightened, as if whoever watched her was closer than before.
Her heart pounded like crazy. Her fight or flight reaction kicked in, but she had no idea what she would fight or where to run.
She put her spoon down slowly, placed her palms on the table and looked up toward the entrance. No one there. She started to tell herself what an idiot she was when a movement drew her gaze farther to the right.
An imposing figure emerged from the dark hallway leading to her bedroom.
A scream climbed up her throat and stuck there. Screaming would do no good.
Who would hear her?
Besides, she couldn’t draw enough breath to speak.
He kept coming, very slowly, until all of him came into view.
It wasn’t Cavan.
This man filled the room just by standing there. His gray-eyed gaze seemed to swirl. He had muscles that grew muscles if the stretch of that T-shirt indicated anything. Long legs pushed him to tower over her. Power radiated from him, but something told her he held back so much more.
Swallowing hard, she pushed out a sentence. “Who are you and what do you want?”