He waved his hand through the courtyard fog and finally saw a shadow move through, finishing up the last notes of her playing. The rain had completely slowed to a drizzle now, but he could see that the witch wasn’t even wet.
He stood there, watching her set down her violin and look at him with those glass-like blue eyes. “Charlotte.” It just popped out, and he wished like hell he could take it back. He didn’t want to lose her by saying the name of another woman—he was certain he’d said Charlotte’s name even when they were making love, and he didn’t know why he’d said it then, either. He couldn’t seem to help himself.
To his ultimate surprise, however, Maili just smiled back at him, then was covered by a cloud; he could only see a silhouette.
And it was Charlotte’s silhouette. It was Charlotte. He blinked and blinked again, but afterwards was certain he was actually seeing Charlotte, violin and all.
And then it clicked. Maili was Charlotte. It didn’t make any sense, it shouldn’t, but it was her. He forced himself forward, his heart pounding hard and loud in his ears.
When he was a foot away from her, he stopped, unsure, and then she gave him that amazing heartbreaking smile and it only verified who he was looking at. He swooped down and picked her up into his arms, kissing her hard on the lips and spinning her around. He didn’t want to say anything; he felt like this was a magic moment that could be destroyed with any words at all.
She ended the kiss for them, kissing his cheeks, his scars even, his nose and eyebrows. “There was an emptiness in my life, and I didn’t understand what it was,” she braved to whisper to him. “And then I realized it was where you were supposed to be.”
“How is this possible?” he asked her, dazed. He never thought he would see her again at all, and because of the mask she was wearing he hadn’t even recognized her when he’d been next to her for weeks.
Her smile faded and she told him, “Lachlan.” He put her down, stunned.
“He’s alive?” he asked her, feeling as though he’d been kicked in the stomach.
She gave him a look that said so clearly, ‘Duh.’ “Of course he survived, Ashcroft. He’s Damen Vanguard.”
* * *
Moriarty needed a cigarette, only when he searched inside his pockets all he found there was soggy little paper wads filled with tobacco. He looked across the courtyard, past Ashcroft’s shoulder, and saw his wife feeding Charlotte a whole loaf of bread, and Charlotte was gobbling it down like she hadn’t eaten in weeks.
He had trouble believing it. “Charlotte?” he asked Ashcroft again, still unable to trust what his ears had heard. “The Charlotte? Charlotte Grimm? Charlotte the little runt witchling who was constantly stealing my remote control? That Charlotte?”
“I’m still trying to figure out why Lachlan spared her. You know he’s got plans on top of plans. He’s gone through a lot of trouble to get her, too, if he went through the lengths of taking on a whole new identity, one of a non-wizard,” Ashcroft told him in low tones. Ashcroft had looked over his own shoulder about three dozen times, making sure Charlotte didn’t leave his presence for a moment.
“This is all impossible,” Moriarty said, shaking his head. There was something unsettling about people he’d been sure were dead suddenly coming into his life again, and all at once.
“I think the reason he kidnapped your children was to get me away from her. When Hoel told him I was coming, that’s when your children went missing. He knew I’d come to your aid immediately.”
Moriarty’s lips pressed into a tight, thin line. “Next time we kill him, we should do it nice and slow. And then, when we kill him, we should do it about five more times, just to make sure it sticks.”
“Did Ashcroft tell you?” Alice interrupted, ambling up and putting her arms around him. “Isn’t it wonderful?” Before he could even manage a good glare, she teasingly grinned at him and added, “Moriarty, you are soaked to the bone!” in a chiding sort of way that sounded like he had forgotten his umbrella at home.
He said as if surprised at his own state, “I am soaked. Glad you noticed,” he grinned wryly at her, then pulled her close and said in her ear, “Go upstairs and prepare for a discussion only one of us will enjoy.”
She pulled back, frowning at him. “What? Why?” she demanded, her eyebrows narrowed with anger and accusation. She knew exactly what Moriarty suggested and honestly couldn’t fathom why.
“I know you like a good bit of show, wife, but the fact of the matter is that I explicitly told you to tell me the second she stirred. Instead, it looked to me like she’d been up for hours before nearly making the sky fall on all our heads. Several elves are going to remember this day as the day half the kingdom almost drowned.”
“Well, that’s not my fault!” she replied, and he remembered then that he hadn’t taken the woman over his knee for any serious discipline in three years. She was very good at talking her way out of things, but he knew what he’d said and it was obvious that she hadn’t listened. “I don’t have the power to do all this, in any case. And it wasn’t Cholly’s, either. You know she meant well, and we’re on a tight schedule!” She straightened the front of her blouse. “She said that if we told you first you’d slow us down considerably.”
Ashcroft, who Moriarty wasn’t surprised hadn’t left his side earlier, rolled his eyes up toward the sky, then closed them slowly, shaking his head as he wandered back toward his own female.
There were no doubts that Charlotte—if that black-haired witch really was Charlotte and he wasn’t dreaming all of this—had probably gotten her sister to disobey orders. It was a talent of Charlotte’s to get people to do the exactly wrong thing, and he could imagine that she might have gotten even more practiced at her gift over the years. It didn’t matter; it was one of the first rules of their relationship that Alice should never let Charlotte lead her astray.
“She’s not wrong, you know. You wouldn’t have believed us, and a big bother would ensue. We have Hoel coming—the great Hoel himself—and I certainly won’t leave this kingdom until I’ve done what I promised our children we would.”
“Your son nearly got swept into a river, if I understand correctly. He was caught out in it.” As Alice’s face whitened with horror, he added, “Cole is perfectly fine, and so are the field workers, and the princess who was with him today. But believe you me, he seems like a lad who had a good fright from it.” He pointed toward the palace. “Now go up to our rooms and remove your dress, if you would be so kind, and wait for me.”
“Moriarty, really,” Alice said, wrapping her arms lovingly around his chest. He had to keep his stern look firmly pressed on his face. “You can’t be serious. I’ve had three children now, I think I’m a little beyond being sent up to my room and spanked like a little girl. Don’t you?”
“No, I certainly don’t,” he gritted, and then snapped his fingers in the direction his hand was still pointing.
She frowned and then made his point for him by stomping her foot. “Be reasonable!” she demanded in a pout.
“I could chastise you here, if you really want that. I can make a scene just as well as you can, Alice, I guarantee it,” he threatened, scowling at her.
Her eyes widened and then narrowed at him. Eventually, she picked up her skirts and stomped off, mad as a hornet.
Moriarty turned toward Charlotte and Ashcroft, who were snogging again. Although kissing quite that sexually was quite frowned upon by the public, Moriarty grinned. He was happy for Ashcroft, and happier still that Charlotte was actually alive. Still, he had to lay down the law before Charlotte picked up the world around her and shook everything out of place.
He stood next to the couple and cleared his throat, during which time his master put the girl down and she turned to him, looking like she expected a hug. “No, no hugs,” he scolded, as if she was a puppy who was proud of its own piddle on a rug. “No hugs, I don’t care how long it’s been. Look at what you did to me.” He gestured down at his sopping wet clothe
s and the mud on his face, hands, and arms. “I’d start hugging you and I’d end up shaking the life right out of you. You almost drowned this entire kingdom.”
“Spell mishap,” she explained shortly, although she looked far from apologetic. “Besides, it’s not like the kingdom didn’t need a good bath even more than you need one now.” She crinkled her nose slightly and looked around. “Admit it, Moriarty; I had to be cruel to be kind. I might have to soak the whole thing a second time.”
He put his hands on his hips. “Well, I do hope you’ll at least send one of us a note before you start casting all sorts of weather spells. Give me at least enough time to put on a rain jacket and to make sure all of my children are somewhere safe. Cole is quite irate with you, by the way. He wasn’t in the mood for a mud bath.”
She put her hand to her lips and then immediately dropped it, “Oh, I didn’t consider any of that. I am sorry, Moriarty. I thought this would be a nice surprise for you both. After all, I couldn’t imagine you believing that I was Charlotte until I pulled this off, and we needed to pull it off anyway before Hoel gets here and throws a fit. He’ll probably end up dragging me away, and then I would lose the opportunity to be useful.
“You know it only takes a couple of good, long soaking rains to really get the rain to work on its own; this will all evaporate and create more rain further down the road…” She looked at Ashcroft and put her finger to the bottom of her lip. “I think I learned that from one of the books you’ve written.”
“I know. I do love to hear my knowledge repeated back, however,” Ashcroft replied. His countenance wasn’t firm at all, which surely meant that he was going to let Charlotte begin her running amuck again, just like he used to. “He is right, though. This was all dangerous, Charlotte. You should really have a care next time.”
Moriarty blinked at his master and said, “That’s it? That’s not a good lecture at all!” He turned to Charlotte and began to jab a finger right in front of her nose. “Look here, Charlotte—I love you, you know I do, but you’re a pain in my neck. I’m not going to let you just do whatever you want, setting a bad example for everyone around you. I’ll have my eyes on you, young miss, make no mistake.”
“Are you sure you don’t want a hug? You look like you need a hug,” she said decisively, stepping toward him with open arms.
“No—” he protested as she wrapped her arms tightly around him. “Damn it all, Charlotte, I’m really quite put out with you!”
He ended up folding his arms around her and giving her a small, very light embrace, anyway. “I will not permit you to manipulate me like you used to,” he informed her, knowing his body language was sending all the wrong messages, but he was very unused to being both strict and glad to see someone all at the same time.
“Oh, I won’t manipulate you like I used to,” she replied, letting him go. “I have all new manipulations now. I’m really good at it; you won’t be bothered by it. In fact, you probably won’t know I’m manipulating you at all,” she teased with an angelic grin.
He snorted, and then looked at Ashcroft. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have a good evening, master,” he said with a nod of his head.
“Oh, Moriarty!” Ashcroft said with an excess of relief that Moriarty hadn’t heard in centuries. “You have no idea.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Damen scowled at the sky above him, at the clouds above the kingdom that he had promised destruction on. Damn Ashcroft—he’d taken everything from him. He had the girl again, he had even taken the last mental copy of his own library. It was a waste of spells, a waste of years, and a waste of all that planning.
The last time he’d been this frustrated was at Charlotte’s mother. That bitch, when choosing between being enslaved by him and death, chose death. She hadn’t even had to think about it; she went so far as to slice her own throat when she didn’t find any way out from his trap one evening. At that point, he had thought the child had died with her.
Yet here he was, nigh forty years later, pursuing that child. All he wanted was his brother’s wealth of knowledge coupled with her power so he could be a great unstoppable force. Was that really so much to ask?
Looking back, his greatest mistake might have been killing off all the other Byndians that were left after the war. He hunted them, happy to kill one after the other that wouldn’t work well with his plans. He only needed one to do what he desired, and he needed that Byndian to be easily controlled, small, and female. In the end, as it turned out, that left him a very small margin for error and created unexpected trifles to come about.
Charlotte Grimm would have been perfect. After Hoel had re-raised her to be proper and noble, she’d have been even more so. After living in the stronger being’s house, she had more respect for those with power. She was used to being put in her place now.
Yet Ashcroft came swooping in yet again, taking everything that so rightfully belonged to Lachlan, especially after all that effort and energy. But that’s what his elder brother did; took everything. He was one of those people everyone liked, and along with that, he always seemed to be in just the right place at just the right time, as if fate itself was his guardian.
“I need to kill that stupid bastard off myself,” he growled to himself, and the general next to him blinked at him, as he often did when the mortal was too afraid to inquire further into what his lord meant or said.
It was so true, however. He needed to kill Ashcroft, he needed to take his prize, and after everything he needed to act innocent, and then everything would fall back into place. He would take her away and head Hoel off before he made it to the palace of those pesky wind elves. He needed to do this soon before his opportunity was gone, before Hoel began to really suspect him of something enough to keep the girl from his grasp.
Ashy was very amusing—that’s why he told himself he’d kept him alive for so long—but after millennia, Ashcroft had finally become tiring. Now, he was a pest that was constantly biting him when he least expected him to. It could not be borne.
“I have to leave this evening, just for a bit. I have personal matters to attend to,” Damen told his general, who seemed a bit unsettled by that news.
“Let me go with you, my lord,” his general said, looking back and forth as if he was being tested.
“No, no. This is something I must do. I won’t be long. I should be back before tomorrow afternoon.” Quickly in, quickly out. “I think my queen will have come to her senses by then, so I think we can head off back home right after. Get everyone ready to move east by the time I return.”
“What about the attack?” the general asked, pointing toward the kingdom they had come to destroy.
Damen sneered at the kingdom, letting his upper lip raise in disgust. “For now, we will hold off. That kingdom has a new, great power that we’d do well not to trifle with.” He knew better than to march an army toward a kingdom protected by a Byndian, not to mention Ashcroft. Byndians could easily be taken down on one-to-one fights, but they knew how to lay marching armies to waste. “For now,” he added simply.
Yes, they had a Byndian for now. Soon, Charlotte Grimm would be all his. She was just at his fingertips; he only had to reach out and grab her as soon as Ashcroft was out of the picture.
He grinned, thinking that soon—very soon—he would have everything he wanted.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“I was just making sure the children were seen to!” Alice snapped as her husband wheeled her into their chambers by her wrist.
“No, you weren’t, you were hiding from me and using the children as your shield! They have two nannies—two. Samuel’s never had so much fun in his life, and you can’t tell me otherwise.” He began to roll up his shirtsleeves. “I want to discuss today.”
“You’re ruining this for me,” Alice snapped. “My sister’s practically returned from the dead, and now you want to blame me for a stain on your shirt!”
It was more than a stain, and Alice knew it. She just didn’t wan
t to admit that things had quickly gotten out of control. She did feel slightly bad about letting Charlotte talk her out of informing Moriarty about anything, including the fact that she was awake, but Charlotte seemed so certain that they wouldn’t believe her, and that they hadn’t much time.
Alice was quite open to doing whatever she was told, since she was just so happy to have her sister back. The girl looked different, but she had the exact same spunk and sassy countenance. It was impossible not to indulge her.
“I don’t even want to know how many hours she was up and walking about before she decided to do that spell without informing a soul. You know better—you never perform spells without at least giving people a good heads-up, why did you think she didn’t need one? She wasn’t exactly graceful at spell-casting before she hardly performed anything for twenty years straight.”
Alice, of course, hadn’t thought of any of those points until just now. That didn’t keep her from trying to eye him like she had considered all the points he’d made already. She didn’t want him thinking she was a fool, at any rate.
“It’s really not my fault that Charlotte created a flashflood. Besides, I tried to get you and Ashcroft out of getting poured on.”
“Yes, but you didn’t tell anyone else! If you wanted to keep us amazed, fine—but you could have at least told the king about it. He would have gotten the guard to make sure everyone was on higher ground. As it was, I ended up having to pull a few women from a rushing river, which is why I look so fabulous right now. It’s a miracle no one was drowned to death!”
She let her eyes drop, which she wished she hadn’t done, because Moriarty would have picked up on it. She couldn’t give him any signs of regret, or else he would spank her, she knew he would. He used to spank her constantly before Cole was born and more often than she would have liked after he was born. He didn’t want a careless wife, apparently. He was protective of her; he was even protective of her feelings.
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