by Judith Leger
Gasping for breath, she pulled and prodded Marcy to the entrance of Shay’s home. The door swung open, and Fred greeted them. With one look, the older man stepped forward and picked up Marcy. He led the way, heading toward the nearest room.
“I’ll be all right. Caitlyn, let me lie down in your room,” Marcy pleaded.
Fred looked at Caitlyn, waiting for her answer. She nodded and followed behind him at a slower pace.
Despite being exhausted, she didn’t stop in the sitting room but continued to the bathroom. She grabbed a couple of towels and returned to the small sofa where Fred had laid Marcy.
Glancing around, Caitlyn noticed Fred had disappeared. Great, now he’d tell the entire household. Of course, how did she expect to keep the wrecked car a secret? She helped Marcy stand, wrapped a towel around her head and led her to the bathroom.
Stripping the soaked clothes off Marcy was a nightmare, like undressing a mannequin.
Grazelda called her name and a wave of relief shot through her.
“We’re in here. Can you help? Marcy’s not doing too well.”
Grazelda’s worried gaze traveled over both of them. Caitlyn tried to smile, but when she glanced in the mirror, she realized no matter what she did or said, the old woman probably would not believe her. Blood ran in watered streaks down the side of her face. Without thinking, she dabbed at the cut. Already bruising, a knot the size of a half dollar rose just above her left eyebrow. Strange, she didn’t remember striking her head.
“Oh, you sweet dearies,” Grazelda murmured, clicking her tongue. “I’ll tend to yer friend, love. You get yerself changed. Fred’ll be bringing some hot tea up here in a bit. It’ll help warm yer both while we wait for the doctor to arrive.”
“That sounds wonderful, but I don’t need a doctor. I’m fine. It’s just a little scratch,” Caitlyn said.
Frowning, Grazelda led Marcy out of the bathroom. Before she closed the door behind them, she looked over her shoulder and sent a small comforting smile to Caitlyn.
Peace came over Caitlyn and security surrounded her.
After a hot shower, she dried off and dressed in her nightgown and robe. Her muscles had stiffened and her body ached. By morning, she wouldn’t be able to move.
By the time she’d finished dressing and returned to the sitting room, Dafydd had arrived. He held Marcy while she wept against his shoulder. Soft murmurs came from him. Caitlyn blinked to stop the sudden sting of tears.
Death had threatened a second time, since she’d arrived in Wales. She walked to the matching sofa across from the couple and sat down, tucking her feet under her. Wrapping the robe higher against her throat, she leaned forward and poured steaming tea into a china cup.
The hair on the back of her neck bristled. She glanced toward the doorway, and her breath caught in her chest. Shay stood bracketed in the door’s frame, one hand braced on the wood.
She became lost in the deep purple eyes staring at her. He moved toward her, never releasing her from his concerned gaze. When he reached her, he sat on the table in front of her.
“You’re hurt.”
She tried to smile, fighting off the increasing need to cry. She swallowed, took a deep breath and said, “I’m fine.”
Marcy stirred weakly before she sat up. A note of hysteria tinged her voice. “She could have died.”
Shay stiffened. Caitlyn leaned forward and placed her hand on his knee. His head tilted, and he shot a glance at Dafydd. His words vibrated through her. “Perhaps, she should lie down until the doctor arrives.”
Caitlyn met Dafydd’s eyes. The music tech’s throat worked, then he nodded. The way Shay suggested Marcy lie down left her feeling uncomfortable, but she was glad. Marcy’s anxiety wore on her.
Without a word, Dafydd scooped up Marcy and walked out the door. A moment later, Rhys skidded to a stop at the opening. His features, lined with worry, were pale. “I just heard. Are you all right?”
Caitlyn took a breath and nodded, offering a weak smile to reassure both men. “I’m fine. I’m more worried about Marcy.”
“You’re injured.” Rhys strode across the room and touched her forehead. He ignored her comment about Marcy, and Caitlyn wondered why. Of course, neither Shay nor Rhys knew Marcy very well.
Pulling away, Caitlyn shook her head. “It’s just a scratch. I have no idea how I got the lump. It happened so fast. I suppose when I flew out the door–”
She clamped her hand over her mouth. The sudden widening of their eyes, and then the forward motion of their bodies told her she shouldn’t have said anything.
Shay’s whispered sentiments increased in volume with each word. “You were thrown from the vehicle? Caitlyn, your friend was right. You could have died.”
“We both could have, but we didn’t. I’m fine, and now that I think about it, I wanted to ask you something,” she said, shifting toward him. Forgetting about his shoulder, she grasped his hand and pulled him to her. His deep groan caused her to release him. “Sorry.”
She moved from the sofa to sit next to him on the table. Cupping her hand over his ear, she whispered, “Does Rhys know about what you told me the other day. You know, about being an e-l-f?”
He shifted to face her. Guilt filled her for not only scaring him with the accident, but because he still suffered severe pain from his own injury as a result of her last incident. “Yes.”
That was it. No explanation, no excuses, just a plain yes. Great, now how to go about telling them about her suspicions without sounding like a lunatic? Unable to sit next to him any longer, she stood and paced for several moments. When she glanced at the two men, she caught them staring at each other. Shay raised a brow at Rhys and then faced her.
Sure she had both their attention, she said, “You know I don’t believe what you told me the other day. Magic isn’t real. Your performances are just acts. That’s what I believed before I came here and I still do. But, let’s just say, for the sake of argument, that what you told me was true.”
She tried to keep her tone even when she continued. “If you are an–” She stumbled over the next word, forcing it out. “–elf, then what if your friends, fellow elves, didn’t like me because I don’t believe. Since you’re one of them, do you think they would try to get rid of me?”
Shay stared at her. He cleared his throat, then said, “Uh, Rhys would be the best one to answer that question. After all, he taught me everything I know about–elves.”
She turned to Rhys. The slender blond stood near Shay, and the heated look he gave the illusionist made Caitlyn think that maybe the gardener was not happy with Shay’s comment. The older man met her gaze and opened his mouth twice before snapping it shut.
Shay stood and moved toward her. “Caitlyn, come sit down. You’ve had a terrifying afternoon. Maybe if you rest, then you’ll be able to rationalize what happened.”
Anger boiled within her, and she stepped away from him. “I’m thinking just fine, thank you. There have been two freakish accidents within the last two days. Both of them could have killed me. What makes it worse is that a damn fir tree saved my life today.”
“You landed in a fir tree,” Shay said, his body stiffening.
“Did I say that?” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “The damn thing caught me. The limbs moved out and plucked me from the air and laid me on the ground. I did not land in the tree.”
Rhys eased toward the door. “Perhaps, I should call my wife.”
Caitlyn frowned at him. “What good will that do?”
Shay turned to him and grinned. “That’s an excellent idea. His wife is an expert on the magic creatures in Wales. She’ll be able to tell you if what you suspect about the other elves not liking you is true.”
She rolled her eyes. Rhys leapt out the door and disappeared.
“Come, sit down and drink some tea,” Shay said. He sat on the sofa and patted the seat. “Shouldn’t take long. They don’t live far from here. Who knows, she might even be on her way here n
ow. They say she has the sight.”
“The sight?” Her irritation came through with the question. What did they think of her? That she was crazy? All they’ve been talking was nonsense. “Don’t patronize me. I’m not crazy. First the limb, and now a boulder. Both of them were coming straight at me.”
One more pat, and she sighed. Shoulders slumping, she lowered her chin and went to him. Easing down next to him, she raised her gaze. Caught in the hypnotic pull of his amethyst eyes, she shifted nearer. He winced when he lifted his left arm over her shoulder and pulled her to him.
“I’m sorry. You’re hurting, and I’m not helping matters with all this stupid talk,” she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder. Her nose twitched at his musky scent. Shifting nearer, she buried it against his neck, tasted the saltiness of his flesh with her lips.
He whispered her name, and ducked his head. With his gaze centered on her mouth, he eased closer.
Rhys cleared his throat. Caitlyn jerked upright and glanced toward the door. Shay sighed.
“Myrielle will arrive shortly,” Rhys told them. He stepped further into the room. “Would you care for fresh tea?”
Caitlyn released a shaky laugh. “Sure, why not?”
Chapter 26
Caitlyn let Rhys pour her a cup of tea. She started to lift the cup to her lips, but Shay, with a sweet grin, waved a hand over the brim. The aroma of cinnamon rose with the steam. She closed her eyes and breathed deep.
One sip, and she went to heaven. Rich flavor washed through her. She had come to love that spice. With a sideways glance at Shay, she asked, “Do you always carry cinnamon with you?”
He held up a small pouch and grinned wider. “I like it, and yes, I do.”
She shook her head. This man was unique. She’d never met anyone like him before and she enjoyed his company. Too much. A nagging thought tried to push forward, but she was too tired to remember. Something familiar.
“If you don’t mind, could you tell us about the accident? What exactly happened?” Rhys sat across from them, leaning forward in his seat. Arms braced on his knees, he clasped his hands together.
Caitlyn took a deep breath. “It’s all still a blur. Marcy was driving, and I looked to the left. That’s when I saw this boulder sliding down the mountain on that side. It was moving so fast. I remember thinking it was going to hit us, and then it did.”
“Well, that explains one thing,” Shay said.
She frowned at him.
“It’s raining. Has been since last night. The rain caused the boulder to loosen and slip in the mud and water.” He glanced from her to Rhys. “There’s nothing sinister in that.”
“Okay, but that doesn’t explain about the tree.” She took a sip, waiting for Shay to come up with an explanation for that.
He cocked a brow at her. “Sorry, that’s beyond me.”
She sank deeper into the sofa. Tightening the robe about her throat, she shook her head. “Me, too.”
A soft rustling noise came to her. Her left ear twitched. Eyes wide, she swiveled toward the doorway. A woman stood framed in the opening. A coarse wool shawl covered her head and wrapped about her shoulders. She glided toward them. Caitlyn’s mouth gaped. She had always thought Marcy was beautiful, but when compared to this woman, her best friend seemed plain. How did someone compare a diamond to a dirt clod?
Rhys stood and met the woman, took her arm and led her to Caitlyn. A gentle smile graced her bow-shaped lips. Tendrils of dark hair escaped from under the shawl. When she stopped a foot away, Caitlyn noticed the woman’s hands trembled.
An introduction wasn’t necessary. She knew the woman’s identity–Rhys’s beautiful wife. Caitlyn searched her memory for what Shay had told her about her name. Myrielle, a unique and lovely name for a beautiful woman. The memory of another woman flashed–a dark-haired lady riding on a unicorn. Shaking her head, Caitlyn didn’t dwell on the memory when Rhys started speaking.
“My dear, this is my wife, Myrielle. Caitlyn is the reporter from Los Angeles I mentioned to you, Merry,” he said as he stared at his wife.
Caitlyn tried to speak but her voice refused to work. When Myrielle touched her hand where it lay in her lap, and then wrapped her slender fingers around the back, Caitlyn jumped.
Shay stood. He took Myrielle’s free hand and brought it to his lips. Holding her hand, he spoke in a low respectful tone. “Good to see you. We have something of a problem. Caitlyn believes elves are behind the accident. We thought you might be able to shine some light on the subject.”
“Elves? Now, why would you think such a thing?” Myrielle’s voice reminded Caitlyn of music boxes. Light and cheery, her voice helped Caitlyn relax.
“Because I told her I was an elf,” Shay replied, matter-of-factly. “She doesn’t know what to believe any more. She’s confused.”
“I am not.” Caitlyn glared at him.
Myrielle laughed and Caitlyn smiled. Yes, she liked this woman. She liked her a lot.
Rhys’s wife gave a gentle tug on her hand. “Come, Caitlyn. Let’s get you settled. You should be in bed.”
There wasn’t any room for argument. A wave of exhaustion came over Caitlyn. She accepted Myrielle’s assistance to stand and went with her into the bedroom.
* * * *
Shay narrowed his eyes, and listened to the soft comforting words Myrielle spoke to Caitlyn. He couldn’t shake the impression he’d picked up ever since he’d met Caitlyn’s friend. He might be jumping to the wrong conclusions, but anyone close to Caitlyn for most of her life would have at one time or another come into contact with Gwyneth. He didn’t believe the witch would have simply allowed someone to become close to Caitlyn without having a measure of control.
When the door closed, shutting the two women off from them, he faced Rhys. “I want her friend out of the here before nightfall.”
Rhys raised a brow. “Do you suspect her?”
“No one is beyond suspicion. Gwyneth is capable of manipulating humans. This woman might be a puppet for the witch. I don’t want to take the chance, that if she stays, something else might happen to Caitlyn.”
Rhys nodded, shut his eyes for a moment, then said. “Consider it done. Dafydd knows what you wish, and he will carry it out. The woman is more hysterical than injured. I sensed no real damage to her.”
“Nor did I. This accident was meant to frighten us, not kill Caitlyn. I am certain of this. Gwyneth means to tease us, keep us off balance. You shouldn’t have let Caitlyn leave this morning.”
Shay moved toward the door. His entire body ached, but he refused to allow his physical limitations to defeat him. The last few days had placed a strain on him he was unaccustomed to after all those years imprisoned by Rhys’s spell. The pain reminded him he was in his normal form and not solid wood. Better to hurt like this than live in the shape of a blackthorn.
Footsteps raced down the hall, and Shay looked up at Blake when he reached the doorway. He’d sent Fred to find the photographer as soon as he found out about Caitlyn. Too much time had passed since then and he was confident Fred had not been lax in his duty. The man had taken too long to find out about the accident. More worrisome, had he heard what Rhys and he had discussed?
Just another connection with Caitlyn that was open for Gwyneth to meddle with and he doubted she would have passed up the chance to do so.
The photographer nodded to him, opened his mouth to speak then snapped it shut. Relief surged through Shay when he sensed Blake’s inner worry about his co-worker. “She’s fine. She went to lie down. I’m sure she’ll want to see you.”
Blake nodded again, then stuck his hands in the back pockets of his blue jeans. “She tell you what happened?”
“An accident. A boulder slid down the ridge and smashed into the vehicle,” Rhys answered.
Once more, the photographer nodded, then strode across the sitting room and tapped lightly on the bedroom door. At the soft response on the other side, he eased the door open and entered.
Shay cut his gaze to Rhys. “Him, too. Send your spies to keep a very close eye on him. He’s all over the place, snapping his pictures. I don’t like that.”
Rhys studied him for several moments. “You are becoming possessive of her.”
Pain sliced through Shay as he jerked his head toward his king. “What does that mean?”
“You are not her mate. Her protection belongs to me, not you. Bear that in mind, my muse.”
Shay chuckled, moving toward the sofa. “I intend to go back to bed once Myrielle relieves her fears, sire. That is the only reason I have pointed out the areas for you to see too. Your daughter will be kept safe.”
* * * *
Caitlyn smiled and gave Blake a little wave as he left. Poor man appeared shaken to his toes.
“He seems to be a nice person,” Myrielle said. Her gentle gaze lingered on the closed door.
“Yeah, he’s a great guy. Always trying to cheer me on. I think this scared him, though he’d never admit it to me.”
Caitlyn leaned against the pillow propped against the headboard. She studied the woman sitting at the foot of her bed. Each time she looked at Myrielle, her beauty struck her all over again. The older woman turned toward her. Caitlyn smiled at her.
“You must be tired. Would you like to rest?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not tired. I want to know if what I suspect is true. Shay said you were a sort of expert on magical creatures here.”
Myrielle laughed. The sparkling sound flowed over Caitlyn. When Myrielle spoke, she leaned forward taking in every word, not wanting to miss a single syllable. “Elves do not usually try to kill disbelievers. No, I do not believe Shay’s elf friends are trying to harm you. There are worse creatures in this world that are better suited for such vile deeds.”
Caitlyn lifted a brow. Myrielle appeared to be a rational, calm person, yet the way she spoke about magical creatures made Caitlyn wonder. Just for the sake of argument, she prompted, “And they are?”
“Every once in a while, an elf is expelled from Sidhe because of their crimes there. In these beings there is the capability to create great havoc. Their spirits are tainted with madness, and they desire only to do wickedness. If you ask if one of those wished for your death, then I would fully agree that it is so. But you have never run across such a one, have you?” She raised an elegant brow, staring at her.