by Nesa Miller
She circled to his side, turning him away from the house. “You know it has nothing to do with my feelings for Dar.”
Spirit ran through the back door, tripping over the step. Dar caught her before she hit the floor. “Oh, Dar. Ta. I didn’t think you were up yet.”
“I’ve been up for a while now.” Steadying her, he glanced out the window. “What’s up out there? Sounds like my Council’s come back for another round.”
“Not even your Council would want a taste of that.” She nodded toward the door. “Linq’s keeping a watch over ‘em.”
Inferno’s voice boomed through the door. “I know ya been daft since ya went to his blasted castle with that so-called sister of yers.”
“Not daft enough to be coerced into marrying against my will.”
“And what will would that be? Ya been too busy acting the lapdog to use any will of yer own.”
Dar peeked out the window again, catching the violet flash in Etain’s eyes as her wings arced over her head. “Holy mother of…,” he said, already out the door.
“Let me show you the will of a lapdog.”
In response to the raised voices, the wolfhound brigade dashed from around the corner. Dar burst into the garden just as Etain’s feet left the ground. “Etain!” His cry was lost in the whoosh of air from her wings and the barking dogs. She soared high, beyond detection, but Dar knew her thoughts.
Felix and Ruby chased after the winged threat, whining and watching the skies as they circled the area. Dar sprinted toward Inferno and dived, knocking him off his feet the moment she swooped past. The men hit the ground. Upon impact, Inferno inadvertently released a fireball. Etain curved, flying toward the horizon.
“Oi,” Inferno murmured, the breath knocked out of him. “That was close.” The hounds sniffed their master, snorting and growling in their investigation.
Dar winced, blood oozing from his side, and pushed off the man. “Closer than you think.”
Inferno gasped, the lower half of his own shirt in shreds. “Hells bells.”
“There’s another shirt gone,” Dar said as Linq offered him a hand.
“Let me bandage that for you, Dar,” Spirit said, turning toward the house.
“Thank you, but it won’t take long to heal.” He held out a hand to Inferno. “She’s not the girl you first met. You have to stop making her angry, or it will be the death of us all.”
“Ta, mate.” Too dazed to argue, he took his hand, coming to his feet. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
Dar turned to Linq, who tilted his head toward the south. Dar gripped his shoulder in thanks and spread his wings. Before lifting off, he flashed a grin at Inferno. “Watch those steaks. I want mine rare.”
“There’s a shocker,” Inferno grumbled, inspecting the rags of his shirt. “Bring her home safe.”
Standing at the front door of a ranch-style house in the human realm, a sense of déjà vu crept over him. It brought back memories of when he was here last. He had thought her dead, her life taken by Midir. Why would she come here?
Consider all that has befallen this lady you call yours. Remember her free spirit. Where would you go if you felt overwhelmed?
Somewhere I felt safe. A familiar place where life was simple.
Then it dawned on him. This was where she would come when she did not want to be found. The home she had shared with her parents and brother. Her safe haven from everything Alamir…and him. He turned the knob.
She was on her knees in the middle of the living room, her back to him, wings flat against her back. He murmured a silent prayer of thanks.
“Are you in on this?” she asked, looking straight ahead.
He remained by the door. “I have no idea to what you are referring, but I’m confident when I say no.”
Her head turned slightly. “We're to wed in two days or Inferno will disown me.”
Dar had heard Inferno’s declaration through the kitchen door. “I take that it’s not to your liking,” he said, walking around to face her. Now he understood why she’d not tucked her wings away. The scorched feathers on her upper right wing were hard to miss. It was painful as a veteran, unbearable as a novice. “You're hurt. Let me tend to you.”
She flinched and crossed her arms over her chest, resting her head against her shoulder. “No, please, don’t touch me. It’s too painful.”
“Are you referring to your wings or our wedding?” Admiring her pose, he crouched in front of her. “Etain, where did you think all this was headed? We talked about our future, of having a family.”
Her eyes remained downcast. “I know.”
He felt her pain, the physical and the emotional, but had to ask. “Is the thought of being my wife so horrible?”
“That is not the issue,” she snapped, dropping her hands to her lap, then softened her tone. “You are forever my heart. My life's breath.” Still, she would not look him in the eye.
“Then what, a chuisle?” He hoped patience would bring her to him. “We owe it to ourselves…and our children.” Her eyes met his. “None of us has a legacy if we do not wed.”
“Legacy be damned if you're not there to share it with me.”
Dar recognized the fear in her glare, yet did not understand from where it came. “I have no plans to go anywhere without you.”
“Marriage is a death sentence, Dar.” She blew out an exasperated breath, rolling her eyes. “The look on your face… You think I’m crazy.”
“No, but I do wonder why-”
“My parents loved each other to distraction. They let down their guard, became comfortable, and now they’re dead.” Tears trailed down her cheeks. “Your own Alexia – dead. Your parents – dead. Marriage makes you vulnerable, weak. It’s a lethal distraction. A warrior must always be alert, ready for battle.”
“Aye. I agree a warrior must be alert.” He sat on the floor cross-legged, suppressing the urge to reach out and wipe away her tears. They deserved to be shed. “Do you consider Inferno and Spirit weak?”
The color drained from her face. She sniffled, wiped her eyes, then rubbed her nose. “I…I never thought of them that way.”
“A chuisle, marriage didn’t kill our parents or Alexia. Evil did. Marriage united them, made them strong, made them ready to face anything at all cost.”
“But marriage is so…so…final.” Her eyes, full of innocent anguish, bore through him.
His heart lifted. Her reluctance had nothing to do with him. It was more a matter of having no idea what marriage entailed. He took her hands in his. “Our marriage will be a new life for us both, a new beginning, a blessing.”
A fresh set of tears trickled down her face. “I miss my mom. How do I do this without her or my dad?” She squeezed his hands. “I love you so much, Dar, but, I feel so alone sometimes.”
“Etain, they’re with you, watching over you. Always remember that.” He lifted her hands to his lips. “You and I will start a new dynasty. Be my queen, Lady Etain. Be my wife.”
She shrugged, a smile touching her lips. “I don’t know how to be either one, but I will try...for you.”
“Just be you. Our marriage will be what we make of it, milady.” He sat up on his knees and reached out, tending to the burned wing. “There are no rules. There are no boundaries. It is ours and ours alone.”
“Mrs. VonNeshta.” She made a face, eyes wide. “Holy crap.”
He laughed. “Shall we get back?
Upon landing at Laugharne, Dar spoke softly into Etain’s ear. “He thinks of you as a daughter, a chuisle. Forgive and forget.”
Her back stiff and straight, she huffed through terse lips. “I bloody well won’t forget.”
Etain… Dar relayed a mental reprimand.
With a sideways glance, she rolled her eyes. “No promises on the forgiving, either.”
From across the garden, Dar noticed Spirit and Inferno standing at the grill, her expression stern, his eyes narrowed.
Etain walked toward them, Inferno meeting her h
alfway.
“Inferno...”
“Etain...”
They stared at one another for a silent moment. Dar shifted his feet and looked over at Spirit, who responded with a reassuring wink. Linq, comfortable in his chair, sat back, a mug of ale in hand.
“You plan on using that thing?” Etain asked, glancing at the oversized barbeque tongs in Inferno’s hand.
He brought the tool up in speculation. “Ya think it would do any good?”
“Doubtful.”
Inferno looked past the tongs. “I’m not happy with the shenanigans happening under me nose.”
“I’m not happy being told what to do or being referred to as a little lass. I’m a grown woman.”
“Hmph.” He lowered the tongs. “Ya damn near gutted me.”
“You roasted my wing.”
“I knew I smelled something burning.”
She almost smiled. “Were you hurt?”
He looked away for a moment. “Ah, well, I did lose me favorite shirt.” His eyes returned to hers. “Are ya all right?”
“Ah, well,” she said, mimicking him, “it takes more than a fried wing to keep me down.”
Inferno chuckled, narrowing his eyes. “Think a steak could keep yer ass on the ground for a spell?”
“As long as you haven’t burned it.”
His deep laugh rolled through the garden, infecting everyone. Etain grinned and laughed with him. The sight of her wrapped in Inferno’s arms gave Dar reason to breathe again, while Linq savored another swallow of ale.
Spirit smiled and clapped her hands. “Tea’s ready.”
“Will the rest of the clan be joining us?” Arms linked, Etain and Inferno walked toward the house.
“Not tonight, lass. They’ve duties that take ‘em to town.”
“Do Felix and Ruby have things to tend to, as well?” she asked. “I didn’t think they’d miss a steak dinner.”
“Pfft, they know there’ll be no scraps tonight.” He laughed, patting her arm. “Don’t worry about me wee doggies. They’re off on an evening’s hunt. They won’t go hungry.”
Dar and Linq followed. “Congratulations on your engagement, High Lord, short as it may be.” Linq raised his mug in tribute.
“It’s rather unconventional by Krymerian standards, but I suppose it will do. I doubt Inferno would appreciate a two-year wait.”
“No, I don’t imagine he would.” They took a few more steps. “I take it you’re not opposed to this marriage.”
Dar stopped and watched the others disappear into the house. “We’ve known each other a long time, Linq.” The elf nodded but held his tongue. “In all my days since Alexia, I never once considered being with another woman. After what happened to her and my children…” He sucked in a breath. The recent dreams had brought back the terrible anguish of losing his wife and family. “I could not, did not want to share my life with another. When she passed, I thought I would not love again. But Etain…” He searched for the right words. “Etain, well…”
Linq grinned and lifted his mug once again. “I never thought I’d see the day when the High Lord of Kaos was made speechless. That, alone, is worth mention in the history books.”
Dar laughed, relieved that an explanation was not required, not that there was one when it came to his relationship with Etain. He draped an arm over the elf’s shoulders and ushered him into the house. “My lady is beyond description, but if I hear one hint of this conversation in a book or even as hearsay…” At the door, he allowed Linq to enter first, “it will be followed by lamentations of what was once a glorious, yet short life of an elf.”
Laughter met his comment as Linq walked into the kitchen. “Glad to see you happy, High Lord. Far be it for me to expose our soon-to-be High Lady’s secret weapon.”
Accompanied by a fine wine brought up from the cellar, conversations over the sumptuous dinner were inconsequential. With dessert served, Inferno broached the tenuous topic of the wedding. “We’ll start first thing in the morning. The two of ya should go into town and find yerselves some proper clothes.”
“I can't leave Spirit to do it alone,” Etain said. “It’s our wedding. We should help.”
Spirit waved her hand. “Your mission is to find a dress. Planning your wedding is my pleasure, love. Aeval and the other faeries will help make it extra special. Accept it as our wedding gift.”
“Besides,” Inferno grinned, slapping Linq on the back, “we have an extra pair of hands to help.”
The elf wagged a finger. “Afraid not, milord. In light of this auspicious occasion, I have important business that takes me away for now.” He pushed from the table and stood. “However, I will return in time for the festivities.” Linq lifted his half-filled glass of wine to Spirit. “Thank you for the exquisite meal and entertaining company.”
“Safe trip, my friend.” Dar and the others lifted their glasses. Linq downed his wine, bowed, and was gone. Lowering his empty glass, Dar turned to the lady at his side. “I would like to toast my beautiful wife-to-be. Inferno, pass the wine.”
“Ya won’t be finding any in this one,” Inferno laughed, turning the bottle over. “But I’ll be happy to open another.” Pushing up from the table, he reached toward the sideboard for a fresh bottle, which had conveniently been uncorked earlier, and refilled every glass, saving his own until last. Inferno raised his glass before Dar had the chance. “A toast to the bride and groom. May joy and peace surround ya, contentment latch yer door, and happiness be with ya now and bless ya evermore.”
Stretched out on a large, brown leather sofa, Freeblood cast a quizzical look at Faux reclining at the opposite end. “Two questions.”
She smirked, raising a brow.
“Do you think they even know what the word heathen means?” He waited for the laughter to subside. “Now for the serious question… Are you really carrying his kid?”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.” Faux moved toward him and pressed her body to his, twining a lock of his hair around her finger. “Let’s enjoy the time we have while we have it.”
“I don’t know. I mean, I like the unusual, sometimes on the verge of what could be considered the macabre, but…”
Her bottom lip pushed out in a seductive pout. “Do you not like me?” Innocence flashed in her eyes, while her hand traveled south for a physical confirmation. The pout melted into a knowing smile. “You do like me.”
He swatted her hand away. “I didn’t say otherwise. It’s just…” A movement outside the window caught his eye. “Oh, hello. Looks like we have company. Not the good kind, either.” Freeblood disentangled himself and jumped to his feet. “I’ll take care of it.”
Faux peeked out the drawn curtains and spied a man in rags. It would seem innocent enough if not for the greenish mist rolling off his clothes, the rusty axes, and the fact that the house sat at the southern end of the large island, miles away from any town.
“Friend of yours?”
“More like an annoyance who doesn't understand the meaning of the word ‘no’.” He scrambled to the door. “You stay here.” Taking a breath, he stepped outside and faced the old Recruiter. “Canker. What’re you doing so far from your hole?”
His black-toothed grin was as menacing as his axes. “Guess you forgot my little recruitin’ motto. Join or die.”
“Simple and to the point – just your style.” Freeblood stood his ground, waiting. Did the old fart really think he could take him on his own?
Canker’s chuckle rumbled in his throat. “As I see it, you got one invite. There ain’t no more, so it’s time to die. I got a rep to protect.” His beady brown eyes roamed over the manor, focusing on the face peering out from the window. “You’ve come to such a perty place with a perty little toy. I like the horns on her head. It’s been a long time since I had anything that tasty to play with.” Two more arms, equipped with axes, emerged from the rags. “Her tail around my neck’ll make a perfect trophy.”
“She’s out of y
our league, scumbag.” The gem embedded in Freeblood’s hand glowed with blue light.
A ragged laugh came from the Recruiter. “Always been an ambitious son of a bitch.”
“But not very smart. You know I’m not a Bok kinda guy.”
“That’s your problem, Ala-meer. Me and my clean-up crew are here to…” He laughed. “Well…clean up.”
Freeblood turned in time to see an undead minion shuffle into the courtyard. A pair of mud demons burrowed up from the earth, their eyes nothing more than empty sockets. From the clouds came another agent, this one with clawed wings, dripping what looked like crude oil.
“Meet Cadaver and Darkwing. You know the saying. Friends who play together live to fight another day.” Canker snorted, amused by his witty comeback. “How about a little show and tell?” His axes clanged off one another. “Your head shows my axe a good time, and I tell your toy to suck my cock.”
Freeblood grinned and spun a blue staff, his weapon of choice for the first round. “I’d rather see your cock shoved down your throat.”
Canker eyed the weapon and smirked. “Let’s go, boys.”
Freeblood ducked and swerved, blocking the swings of multiple axes, then jabbed the tip of his staff through the belly of a mud demon. The demon splashed on the ground, bubbled, and turned back into solid form. Freeblood twirled the weapon over his head, altering its shape from a blunt-tipped staff into a blue-bladed Chinese polearm. The blade separated the pair of mud minions into pieces, but Darkwing intercepted his backswing, nearly knocking him off his feet. He caught himself and was able to follow through, severing Cadaver’s head from his body instead of those belonging to the mud minions.
“Seems your friends have a hard time keeping it together, Canker.”
“Yeah, but they git over it quick,” Canker said, his black teeth exposed in a lethal sneer as he and Freeblood watched Cadaver's head roll back onto his stump of a neck. “Not bad, eh?”
“Just means this’ll take a little longer than expected.” Freeblood charged in, blade first.
Faux watched through the window as Freeblood battled the misty green apparition and his band of miscreants. Fascinated by his movements, she was especially intrigued when the blue staff appeared in his hand. Excitement fluttered in her belly watching him slice the intruders to pieces. Her eyes flashed red when the grotesque figures kept reforming slash after slash.