by Darby Kaye
“My thanks. Cor.” Bann whistled the boy over. “Son, this is Hugh Doyle, Shay’s uncle. Hugh Doyle, my son, Cormac.”
“Hi.” The boy shook the older Knight’s hand.
“A strong grip you have, Cor Boru.” Hugh smiled down at the boy, who grinned back. “And this one I already know.” He patted Max, who had come over to greet him with a frenzy of tail-wagging. “A veritable prince of dogs.” Max wagged harder, agreeing with the Knight.
“Go finish your game, you two.” Bann waved them away. He waited until they disappeared around the far side of the camper, then spoke quietly. “What else did she say about us?”
“Aye, she told me.” Wonder lit up his face. “The long-son of the Boru. Here in Colorado and after all these years.”
Bann shifted, uncomfortable. “Did she also explain how we came to be here? And that, because of me, she is in danger as well?”
“She did. Although she spoke lightly of the being-in-danger part. In the true Doyle fashion, don’t you know.” He paused, then softened his tone. “My condolences for the loss of your wife. And for your son’s loss, as well.”
“Thank you.”
The Knight glanced past Bann to the camper. “Shay also said you were determined to leave as soon as you can.”
“I am. I will not put others at risk. It’s best Cor and I move on.”
Hugh reached up to finger a torc that wasn’t there. “Are you so sure?”
“Sorry?”
“Are you so sure it’s what is best for you and the boyo?” Before Bann could argue, Hugh raised a hand. “Do not paint all of our people by the same brush. While there are some in our clan, as well as other clans in High Springs, who will blame you for drawing that monster into our midst, you should know a number of us will aid you in this fight, Bannerman Boru.”
Bann’s mouth opened and closed. “Why?” he finally blurted out.
Hugh blinked in surprise. “Why, because you are the long-son of our High King. But more than that, you and the lad are Tuatha Dé Danaan. And you need our aid.” He chuckled when Bann started to protest. “Oh, Shay was right about you. You’re a stubborn one, to be sure.”
Feeling like the world was shifting under his feet, Bann took a step away. Behind him, the voice of his son laughing as he lost another round of tug-of-war to his new best friend rang through the garage. He turned and faced the older man.
“He will slaughter anyone who helps me.”
“Aye, he will try.”
“There is no way to destroy him.”
Hugh shrugged. “Any creature can be destroyed, given the right knowledge and the right weapon. We simply need to find both.”
Bann tried a different tactic. “I have little money, except for the monthly stipend distributed to all Tuatha Dé Danaan from our people’s reserves.”
“As do most of us.” Hugh looked Bann up and down. “You seem hale enough to find honest labor.”
Bann dragged the back of his hand along his jaw. A chain that had been bound around his chest loosened. “Well, I cannot stay here. He is certain to attack, maybe even tonight.”
“Shay said you would say that. And she pointed out that by knowing where he might strike, we’ve a better chance at guarding against him and perhaps even killing him.”
“You would use her as bait?”
“Oh, aye.” Hugh beamed, pleased Bann had caught on so quickly. “Clever, eh?”
“Look, Hugh—”
“We’ll have a fair number here all night.” Hugh snapped his fingers. “Which reminds me—I’m in charge of drinks. Shay’s taking care of the food even now.”
“You make it sound like a party.”
“Aye, it should be a right proper hooley.” He clapped Bann on the shoulder. “I’ll see you this evening, then.” With a grin and a nod, he hurried back down the driveway.
Mind reeling, Bann stood in the doorway, staring as Hugh drove away. Possible scenarios, some he hadn’t allowed himself to even dream about for a year, flew back and forth inside his skull.
Surrender had never felt so good.
He glanced down when Cor walked over and joined him, leaning a shoulder against Bann’s hip. Max took a seat at Cor’s feet.
“What’s going on, Dad?”
Bann looped an arm around his son. “I have something to tell you, Cormac Boru.”
8
WITH A BOTTLE OF beer in each hand, Bann edged through the small but raucous crowd and joined Shay and a young man standing in the center of the living room. The firelight flickered on the gold torc encircling the young man’s neck, as well on the ubiquitous red hair of the Doyle clan. Other men and women of various ages milled about the great room. Bann noticed they were all armed with every sort of blade, knives being a favorite. Some sported daggers, and a few even bore hatchets. All wore the torc.
Music poured from the stereo, vying with the buzz of conversation. Bann could feel the beat of the familiar tunes through the soles of his boots. “Here.” He handed one of the bottles to Shay, then held out his hand to the young man. “Bannerman Boru.”
“Like you need an introduction.” The young man grinned, clasping Bann’s forearm in the traditional manner. “I’m Rory. One of Shay’s cousins. Hey, I wanted to thank you.” Rory’s red soul patch and Celtic rope tats encircling both wrists made him look like a college student…an undergrad majoring in microbrewing, no doubt.
“Thank me for what?”
“Why, for giving us Doyles a reason to get shit-faced while waiting on that Loki wannabe to show up and join the party.” He took another swig.
Shay rolled her eyes. “When do you need a reason to drink, Rory Doyle?”
“Just trying to keep up with my little cousin.” He clinked his bottle against hers.
Bann smiled at the exchange. Taking a drink and half-listening to their conversation, he scanned the room for a certain dark head.
Earlier, Cor had begged his father to let him stay up past his bedtime, pointing out, with an eight-year-old’s logic, that he had to keep Max company. When Bann had mentioned that Max probably knew all of Shay’s family already and would not lack for company, Cor had shifted tactics and claimed the party would keep him awake, even with the guest-room door closed.
“Please, Dad? Just one hour more?”
“Why would you wish to stand about listening to a group of adults whose conversation will mostly likely center around the weather?”
His son had then pulled out the nukes. “Because they’re Tuatha Dé Danaan, Dad. Just like us.”
With that, Bann had capitulated. How could he have forgotten Cor’s fervent longing to be with their people? Which is how we came to be in this place on this evening.
Shay tapped his elbow. “He’s over on the floor by the fireplace. With his shadow.”
Bann craned his neck. His son lay sprawled on his back, his feet propped on the hearth. Max’s head rested on Cor’s stomach, eyes closed in bliss as the boy played with his ears. Bann saw that Cor was reading the book Shay had been looking at earlier.
“How did you know I was looking for him?”
Shay just grinned.
Something about her smile filled Bann with an odd warmth, heightened by a beer buzz. Not the heat in the belly that a smile and an ogle from an attractive woman would cause—although Shay would qualify as an attractive woman, qualify with room to spare—but rather like the quiet warmth of the heart that a grin from an old companion or fellow warrior would cause. He wasn’t surprised when she punched him lightly on the shoulder.
He missed having a friend.
Excusing himself, Bann walked over and sank down on one end of the sofa and stretched out his legs. “Come here, lad.”
Closing the book, Cor eased out from under Max’s head and scrambled to his feet. He stuck the volume back into the empty spot on the shelf and joined his father.
“What were you reading?”
“Just a story. It’s kind of boring.”
“Ah.”
They sat in silence, both staring at the flames. Cor yawned, then slumped lower to rest his head against Bann’s shoulder. One leg was thrown over his father’s knee.A year ago, he would have been curled on my lap by now. Of course, a year ago, he still had a mother and a home.
“Quite the last two days, eh, lad?”
Cor nodded. “I’m glad we’re staying.”
“As am I.” For lots of reasons.
“Are we going to sleep in the camper from now on?”
“Actually, you’re going to stay with me.” Shay leaned over the back of the sofa on the other side of Cor. “At least for a few more days.”
“I thank you, but no,” Bann said. “Our camper is perfectly—”
“Your dad thinks it’s a good idea.”
“I do not! If you recall, I told you earlier—”
“In fact, while you’re here, you can me help take care of Max.”
“Really? Awesome!” Cor bumped fists with Shay. He grinned up at Bann. “Two against one. Again.”
“This isn’t a bleedin’ democracy.”
“All in favor of making this a bleedin’ democracy,” Shay said. “Raise your hand.” Her and Cor’s hands shot up. “Two to one in favor. We win.”
Hiding a smile, Bann glanced at his watch. “Fine. Now, as president, I declare it is bedtime for anyone under five feet—”
“President? I don’t think so.” Shay interrupted him. “This is my house. I get to be the leader.” Cor nodded gleefully in agreement. His grin faded when she nudged his shoulder. “So. To bed, kiddo. And I’m saying that as your Healer, not as your leader.”
“B-But it’s not time yet!” Sputtering, Cor turned to his father. “Dad, tell her I get to stay up for a while longer.”
“Sorry. I was voted out of office.”
“Off you go,” Shay said, not at all impressed by Cor’s glower. “By the way, I want to put another dose of sláinte nettle on those scratches on your back as well as double-check your shoulder. Wait for me in the bathroom. Give me a holler when you’re ready.”
“Mind Shay.” Bann prodded him. “I’ll be along shortly.”
Cor stomped off and disappeared down the hall, complaining the entire way about the unfairness of grownups. Max sat up and looked at Shay, a question in his brown eyes.
“Go on.” Shay shook her head as the hound trotted after the boy. “I think I may have lost my dog.” She brightened when Cor called for her. “But I think I gained a new friend.” She left the room.
“Two friends,” Bann said to himself. He drained the bottle, added it to the growing pile of empties on the coffee table, then stood and made his way through the crowd in Shay’s wake. Halfway across the room, Hugh greeted him in a booming voice.
“Bannerman Boru! Ready for something that’ll put hair on your chest?” He held up a bottle of whiskey.
“I’ll pass for now, but I wouldn’t say no to another beer. Let me see my son to bed first.” Pausing to exchange pleasantries in Gaelic with an older Knight, Bann finally made it to the guest room. He paused when he heard Shay’s voice coming from the bathroom, a question in her tone. Before Bann could join them, Cor spoke.
“No, I don’t know what Dad did with it. I haven’t seen it for a long time.” A hiss of pain. “Ow!”
“I know it stings. It’ll stop in a minute.” A silence. “Well, maybe we can get him another torc.”
“Yeah. He’s going to need one now that he’s going to be a Knight again.” Another pause. “I’m really glad we’re staying here. It’s pretty cool having all those other Knights around.”
“Like having your own bodyguards,” Shay joked.
“Yeah, but not for me. For my dad.” Cor spoke in a matter-of-fact manner. “I want them to help me guard Dad and keep him safe.”
A charged silence. “I think they can guard both of you,” Shay said in a quiet tone.
“I guess. But Dad comes first.”
Bann placed a hand on the corridor wall to steady himself. Oh, Cor.
“I think your father would see it the other way. That it’s his job to take care of you.”
Unable to stand the weight from his guilt, Bann stepped into the bathroom. Cor was pulling his T-shirt down while Shay screwed the lid back on a small jar of potion. They both looked up.
“Did you hear?” Shay said softly, placing the tonic back in the medicine cabinet.
“I did.” He gazed at his son, who was looking at everywhere but at his father.
“You two need to talk.” She slipped around him and disappeared.
Why didn’t I listen? Bann thought.All those times he asked—begged me—to find our people, and I never once asked him why? No, I was too busy being angry, too filled with grief, to realize what our isolation was costing him. Costing him any sense of security. He’s already lost one parent to that monster—he doesn’t want to lose another. Hell, he’s smart enough to know that if anything should happen to me, he would be all alone in this world.
“Am I in trouble?” The boy plucked at a loose thread on his shirt, unraveling the hem.
Bann shook his head. “Cor,” he began, then stopped at the croak he heard. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Cor. I am sorry, lad.”
Cor blinked. “Sorry for what?”
“For not asking why you wanted to be with other Tuatha Dé Danaan.”
“Oh.”
“But now that I do know…” Bann laid his hands on Cor’s shoulders and bent over to press his forehead against his son’s in their special just us gesture. His throat tightened when Cor stood on tiptoes to press back, fingers wrapped around his father’s wrists, holding on for sweet life. “We’ll remain here in High Springs for as long as you wish.”
“Really? Like forever? You promise?”
“Knight’s honor.”
Lingering outside the bathroom, Shay’s heart melted at the note of hope and joy in Cor’s voice. She tiptoed away. That was eavesdropping, her conscience pointed out. My house, my rules, she answered it back as she joined the throng in her living room.
“Rory. What the hell?” She smacked the back of her cousin’s head, then pointed to the floor. “This isn’t a pub.”
“Sorry.” He scooped up the chips he had spilled earlier, looked around for a trash can, then shrugged and tossed them in his mouth.
“Dude. Really?” Shaking her head, she made her way to the kitchen for another beer, having lost the drink Bann had brought her. Bending over the cooler stowed in the corner, she fished through the melting ice, smiling to herself as she remembered his solicitous behavior all evening. At first, she’d thought he was doing the whole Knight-damsel thing, until she realized he was simply being himself. Gotta love guys with old-fashioned manners.
A voice spoke behind her. “Maybe I should start running in the park, too. Who knew that’s where all the hot guys hang out?”
Shay straightened. A woman, her dark auburn hair cascading over her shoulders to emphasize her curves, stood next to her, leaning against the counter with a shot glass in one hand. A torc around her neck proclaimed her a Knight of the Tuatha Dé Danaan.
“What do you mean, Laney?” Shay struggled to be polite to her second—or was it third—cousin. The cousin who always made her feel like such a clunker. She found herself wishing she had done more with her hair than just the standard ponytail. Maybe even a bit more makeup than just the touch of mascara and lip gloss.
“Well, isn’t that where you found that one?” Laney nodded toward the hallway. She took a sip of her drink, then sighed. The whiskey on her breath assaulted Shay’s nose. “I don’t know what’s more smoking, his face or his body. Even his name is sexy. Bannerman Boru.” She rolled the syllables along her lips as if tasting the man.
“Laney!”
“By the Goddess, it’s nice to meet a real man. The rugged type, you know? Not like all these male-model guys with their bad-boy attitudes you see in movies. You know what I mean?” She took another sip. “And that whole father th
ing he’s got going?” She fanned herself as if overheating from just thinking it. “Gets me every time.”
Yeah, me, too, Shay thought. She opened her Fat Tire and took a drink.
Laney leaned closer. “Have you guys slept together yet?”
Beer spewed out of Shay’s mouth. Wiping her chin, she choked out an answer. “What? No!”
“Why?”
“Well, for one, he’s not my type,” Shay lied.
“What is your type? Ugly guys with no depth or maturity?”
“Two, his son is under my care. I’m a Healer.” Shay tapped the tattoo under her shirt. “Remember?”
“So?”
“So, besides the fact I don’t go bouncing the bedsprings with every strange guy—”
“You don’t have bounce with any guys.”
What a bitch. “Thanks for pointing out my dating slump. And three—”
“Which is probably why you work all the time. To hide your feelings of inadequacy, right?”
“—and three!” Shay’s voice rose. “I just met the guy yesterday, so there’s no way I’m having sex with Bannerman Boru!”
Those nearest to the kitchen turned to stare at her. Which caused the rest of the room to follow. In less than two seconds, bemused silence vied with the Dropkick Murphys booming from the stereo. Oh, please, Shay thought.Please don’t let him have heard that. At that moment, her entire clan swiveled their heads in unison toward Bann standing on the other side of the room. Confusion and something else colored his face. Aw, crap.
“Your thoughts on the matter, Boru?” Hugh Doyle said with an exaggerated wave.
Shay wondered if it was possible to burst into flame from blushing so hard. Even her ears burned. She waited, knowing there was nothing he could say to salvage the situation.
“Why, I’m not certain.” Bann locked gazes with Shay. For some reason, she couldn’t look away. “I believe I’ve been insulted.” The crowd laughed. He waited for it to die down before continuing. “A jest, only,” he said with a trace of a smile. “No, Shay Doyle has shown me and mine nothing but hospitality and the graciousness due a guest—a tradition we Celts have always held in high regard. For that, I thank her.”