Prince of Shadows

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Prince of Shadows Page 29

by Nancy Gideon


  “I didn’t mean any harm when I spoke to James about you and Cale,” the girl wailed wretchedly. “I didn’t know what he planned. I didn’t know he was going to—”

  Kendra enfolded her close, murmuring, “This isn’t your fault. You didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know.”

  Reassured by those kind words, Rosie asked, “Would it be all right if I stayed here with you? As a friend?”

  Kendra hugged her tight. “I’d like that.” Her grateful claim changed to a quiet “Ladies, please leave me” when she saw Silas exit Cale’s makeshift recovery room. She sat unblinking after they were gone, waiting for her cousin to reveal what had put such terrible strain on his expression. Finally, she whispered, “He’s not gone, is he?”

  “No,” Silas told her, settling beside her on the couch, “but he’s not healing. The doctor thinks there was something on the blade that’s keeping his body from throwing off the effects of the silver. He’s not going to survive it, Kendra.”

  Her body jerked as if he’d struck her. Silas tried to take her in his arms, his manner so tender and consoling that Kendra knew if she allowed herself to seek comfort there, she’d be lost forever. She had to stay strong or give up all her dreams.

  Silas drew back at the unexpected brace of her hands. Her composure seemed to unsettle him as he told her, “It’s all right to grieve.”

  “I have nothing to grieve over yet.” She pushed away the frantic cries wailing through her soul as she reached out her hand, her features strangely calm, her tone detached. “Can I use your phone? I have to make a call.”

  Silas passed over his cell, keeping her fingers pressed within his for a long moment. “It might not be safe for us here much longer. He asked me to protect you.”

  “I stay with my king.” Her words were unshakable.

  “All right.” Silas bent to touch a kiss to her brow and got to his feet. “Make your call. I’ll be inside.”

  Once alone, Kendra let the fear and anguish shake through her, but only for a moment. Enough. As long as his heart beat, she would hold to hope. She’d doubted before, hadn’t believed in his indomitable will, and he’d proved her wrong. She was his queen. And she wouldn’t let him fall.

  She made her call, holding that composure until she heard the voice on the other end. Her heart broke, her spirit with it, as she cried, “Please help me. I can’t live without him.”

  twenty-five

  Cale existed in a world of pain and fire. He didn’t know how much time had passed. It could have been hours or days. He’d see Kendra’s face close to his, her tender gaze filled with mirroring agony. Sometimes he could manage a thready “It’s okay, baby,” but usually, he couldn’t form the words crowding about his failing heart: I love you, Katy. This isn’t what I wanted for us. I’m sorry. Be safe. Let me go.

  When he recognized his mother, he thought he was delirious until he felt her cool hand on his brow and her warm tears on his cheek. He’d finally managed to bring her home. At least until his funeral. Kendra would have someone with her as she watched him burn. That fire would be a relief after the one scorching through him now.

  His brothers drifted in and out, somber, saying little. Not much to say. He’d gripped Wesley’s hand, whispering faintly, “Lead them, brother. Don’t fail our clan.” Wes had nodded, and that gave him enough peace to make the rest endurable.

  He sensed someone with him. The effort to open his eyes was almost too much. And when he did, he doubted what they revealed. He smiled and coaxed up a rusty chuckle. “If you’re here to kill me, you’re a little late.”

  Brigit MacCreedy returned the smile with a wry “I thought I’d enjoy this more.”

  He tensed as another fierce twist of misery tore through him, but his smile never wavered. “You’ll be happy to hear I’m suffering greatly.” He closed his eyes briefly, unable to keep the dampness from their corners as he swallowed with difficulty. “Do something for me. Last request.”

  “And I’d want to do something for you, why?”

  “For Kendra. Take her away from here. Do it now. Not safe for her to stay until I’m gone.”

  “She won’t leave. I’ll never understand why, but she loves you. She dragged me here to save your miserable ass. Don’t make me regret it, Cale.”

  “That’s not going to happen, Bree. Don’t give her false hope. Don’t put her through that. Please.”

  She reached out to blot the beaded perspiration from his face, her touch surprisingly gentle. “You really do love her.”

  “She’s the only good thing I ever had, every good thing I wanted to be.”

  “Well . . . hell.” She sighed heavily and gave him a regretful scowl. “You’re family now, so I guess I can’t just look the other way. But if you ever mistreat her, you’re going to wish I’d let you die.”

  Before Cale could question her odd statement, Brigit put her palm to his brow, stroking lightly, letting her fingertips follow the scar that cut across his left eye. Her other hand slipped beneath him to press to the wounds in his back, making him groan and try to roll away.

  “It’s all right,” she told him in a soft, strained voice. “Just let it happen. Relax.”

  Heat and a strange tingling, drawing sensation radiated from her hands as if she were wresting something from him. At first he thought he was slipping across the veil into death, because the constant searing pain faded away. And then he realized it was gone. Just gone.

  He took his first full breath and looked to Brigit in amazement. Really seeing her clearly, disbelievingly, through both eyes. Her gorgeous features were as white as his sheets.

  Then she simply collapsed over him.

  “No. No, no no!” All he could think in that mind-blanking moment was that in saving him, she’d sacrificed herself, making him the cause of Kendra losing someone else she loved. “Katy!”

  Kendra burst into the room, stunned into stopping by the sight of him sitting up. Then she rushed to the bedside to put her hand to her cousin’s throat.

  “Is she all right?” Cale asked, confused by how strong his voice was, how steady the hand he placed on Kendra’s shoulder. “What the hell just happened?”

  After a brief second passed, Kendra gave a gusty exhale of relief. Instead of answering him, she was weeping, kissing him full on the mouth with enough enthusiasm to make him wonder if he really had made that jump to heaven.

  “Don’t let me interrupt you. Obviously, I’m fine.”

  Brigit’s wry comment had Kendra leaning back so her cousin could sit up. Kendra embraced her with a quick “Thank you” before including Cale in the circle of her arms. She asked him, “How do you feel?”

  He took another breath, marveling in the lack of discomfort. “Like I rolled all the way down the mountain, then fell off a cliff.” His voice pitched low. “You’re still here.”

  “Where would I go, my king? My place is with you.”

  He held her close, taking in her unique scent with its subtle notes of fatigue and relief, then glanced at Brigit curiously. “You’re a Healer. I thought that was a myth.”

  “I want it to stay that way. My price for saving you.”

  He nodded. “Done.”

  “Oh, and there’s one more thing I promised Kendra I’d do, but it seemed a little too creepy while you were dying.”

  Her awkwardness made him frown. “What’s that?”

  “Nothing personal.”

  “Last time I was told that, I was stabbed in the back.”

  Brigit didn’t focus on his back. “Whoa! What the—” Her unexpected fondling of his privates had Cale’s knees jerking up as he scooted back in alarm.

  “I got absolutely no pleasure out of that,” Brigit assured him, then winked at her cousin. “Niiiice. And from all indications, ready, willing, and able to go to work in the reproductive field.” Her nose wrinkled. “After a shower.”

  Kendra hugged her tightly, exclaiming tearfully, “How can I ever thank you?”

  Brigit
chuckled. “The look on his face was kinda worth it.”

  There was a knock on the door. Silas peeked in to ask, “Everyone still alive in here?”

  “Thanks to your sister.” Cale regarded her with a mix of gratitude and wariness. As he supervised Silas’s careful unwinding of his bandages, Kendra gave Brigit a watery smile and thankfully leaned into her open arms. “How close?” she whispered. How close had she come to losing him?

  “Oh, sweetie, you don’t even want to know.”

  “You do good work, sis,” Silas announced after studying the closed wounds that had already begun to scar over. He pressed lightly and received a twitch of response. When he held up a finger and moved it in a 180-degree circumference, Cale tracked it with both eyes. Silas looked relieved but didn’t voice it. Instead, he suggested, “If you’re up to it, it might be a good idea to make an appearance for the troops.”

  “My brothers held together even after I went down?” His tone voiced his astonishment.

  “Your queen put Wes in charge of holding the reins. He did a fair job, but I’d prefer to deal with you. Like I said, I always thought you were a rung higher on the evolutionary ladder.”

  Cale paid no attention to the claim. His gaze was on his mate. “You stepped up for me.”

  Kendra flushed at the admiration in his tone and brushed it off lightly. “Of course, my king. I couldn’t let everything go to hell and have your father move back in to rule it.”

  “Jamie?” His features firmed as distress clouded his eyes.

  “Turow went after him. We haven’t heard anything yet. Martine and Sylvia disappeared as well.”

  Cale glanced around the small room where he’d lain for he didn’t know how long, waiting to die. “You can fill me in on the way home. I need to get out of these clothes and into my own bed.” With you, said the caress of his sidelong glance.

  Cale may have healed, but he was still newborn-weak. Wordlessly, Silas slipped beneath the drape of one arm to support him while Kendra clung to the other to keep him balanced on the stairs. He stumbled on the lower steps, stunned to see his family gathered in the great hall, waiting to hear the worst. It was almost a shame to disappoint them.

  Rico glanced up and stared for a disbelieving moment before muttering, “I’ll be damned. You do get back up from anything.”

  Vera Terriot rose from where she sat with Rosie and Sadie. She blinked away tears as she crossed the room. Cale came down to meet her, waiting while she put an uncertain hand to his cheek before taking him in her arms. His voice was low and rough. “Don’t cry, Momma. I’m fine.”

  It took her a long time to be convinced enough to let him go. “I’m crying because I’m so proud of you . . . my king.” Smiling, she stepped aside to put her arm about Kendra while the rest of his family came to greet him, some with crushing hugs, some taking a respectful knee, some with reserved nods.

  My king. No longer an expression of fear but rather of hope, or at least, Cale thought, of cautious optimism. Though the title sat awkwardly upon his head at first, by the time the last of his well-wishers came to clasp his hand, it felt comfortable.

  “From death’s door to receiving homage on your own hind legs in under half an hour,” Wesley mused. “Care to share your secret?”

  Cale smiled. “No.” His features warmed with rarely expressed affection. “Thank you, brother.”

  “Now is probably a good time to remind you of a debt owed, since you’re all squared away.” Wes’s glance slid meaningfully to Kendra.

  “Name it.”

  “When you find my mother and sister, I want your promise that day won’t be their last. Your word, Cale.”

  “They’ll have accommodations next to my father’s.”

  “I can live with that.” Wes hesitated, then spoke plainly. “I had no idea, Cale. None.”

  “If I thought you had, I wouldn’t have entrusted you with our clan.” That said, Cale moved quickly to business. “I want to meet with our brothers, the sooner, the better.”

  “Tomorrow evening,” Kendra spoke up, fitting herself against Cale’s side. “That should give you time to rest and recover sufficiently.”

  Wesley snorted. “Yeah, right. Enjoy your rest, my king.”

  Cale gave her a chiding look as Wes moved away. “That wasn’t terribly subtle.”

  “This is your family. Subtlety is lost on them.”

  He chuckled and gave her a squeeze. “Let’s go home.”

  With Silas and Brigit in tow, they stepped out into a dazzlingly cold morning. Cale’s first big breath burned through his lungs gloriously as he bundled up in his leather coat. The two women fell back a few steps to exchange hurried whispers. An excited squeal from Kendra made him look back over his shoulder curiously. Brigit gave him a shooing, “none of your damned business” gesture while Kendra hugged her close.

  “Ready to tackle some kingly duties?” Silas challenged as he walked at Cale’s side, occasionally providing a supportive hand. “Rueben Guedry and his entourage are coming to New Orleans for a parlay. You need to be there if you’re interested in stabilizing the relationship between our clans.”

  “I’m interested.” A brief hesitation, then Cale added, “While I’m there, if they’re agreeable, I’d like to meet our shared sister and nephew.” The ones whom Silas’s parents had died to protect from Bram.

  Silas jerked to a stop, his stare narrowing dangerously. “Why?”

  “Because they’re my family, and I’d like to know them . . . if they’d like to know me. That’s their choice. I won’t force it. No one else knows about them being in your care. I don’t mean them any harm. I just thought . . .” His features hardened into that stoic blank. “Fuck it. Never mind.” He started to walk again, and Silas fell in step.

  “Oscar’s twelve. He’d probably be as impressed as all hell by a rowdy, tattooed, rock-and-roll uncle who’s a king.” He produced a photo from his wallet.

  Cale grinned wide. “Coulda been you twenty years ago! Poor kid.” Still smiling, he started to hand the picture back when Silas told him to keep it. Uttering a gruff “Thanks,” Cale tucked it into his pocket, then handed Silas his iPod in exchange. “Give him that so he’ll have an idea of what to expect.”

  Silas grew serious. “I’d like to get a sample of Kick. My guess is it’s a lot more than herbs. I’m wondering if your father’s witch had outside help with the formula.”

  Cale scowled, chilled as well as alarmed. “Outside meaning who? The Guedrys?”

  “I’m thinking farther north. I have resources who could test it and see how dangerous it really is. Think about it.”

  They’d reached the front door of the chalet. Kendra slipped her arm about Cale’s waist and gave her cousins an eyebrow signal to get lost.

  “Well,” Brigit announced cooly, “we know when four’s a crowd.” She gave Cale a distasteful once-over. “At least shower first.”

  “Bree!” Though Kendra blushed, her own gaze heated with bad intentions.

  “Hang on a second,” Cale called, unlocking the door and disappearing inside. He returned to press Silas’s hand, passing him a packet. Silas palmed it without a word. “See you tomorrow.”

  The minute the door closed behind them, Cale headed into the next room. As Kendra warmed some meat in the microwave, she heard him vigorously brushing his teeth. She was setting out a plate when he returned to sigh, “That’s better. The only thing worse than dying is tasting like you already did.” He settled into the chair she’d pulled out and gave a quick tug to bring her down onto his lap.

  “You need to eat to get your strength back,” she scolded.

  “I think I have enough in reserve for this.” He cupped the back of her head to draw her down to his soft kiss.

  The tender brush of his lips woke the huge swell of emotions Kendra had been holding in. Her breaths snagged, and she pushed away from him, scrambling to her feet, anxious to escape. “Eat! I’m going to fill the tub. I don’t think you’re steady enough for t
he shower.”

  “Kendra.”

  When she turned back to him, Cale reached out to her, palm up, his eyes filled with everything that was banging around inside her chest. “Take my hand and my heart.”

  She seized his hand between both of hers, smashing a kiss to that open palm, but when he tried to stroke her cheek, she twisted away and hurried into the bedroom.

  Shuddering helplessly, Kendra sank down onto the cool tiles and used water thundering into the tub to drown out her sobs. She’d almost lost him. All that desperate fright she’d been harboring for the past days poured from her until her throat was raw and her eyes as dry as the ashes of Cale’s brothers. She easily could have been watching his pyre burn instead of enjoying that inner heat his nearness quickened. Those circumstances wouldn’t change. The danger, the risk, wouldn’t disappear from their lives just because Bram Terriot was locked away in a posh high-rise prison. Uneasy was the head that wore the Terriot crown. There would always be struggle. She wiped her face when she heard his step and turned.

  And there would always be reward.

  “I think I’m becoming a bath kinda guy,” Cale announced, shedding his bloodstained clothes.

  Even exhausted and filthy, Cale Terriot was the most mouthwatering thing she’d ever seen. The hard swell of muscle, the tattooed skin, the unshaved face, the bold half-mast length of him with its promise of pleasures to come, and even the scars. Those scars were damned sexy.

  Cale gave a gusty sigh of contentment as he sank down in the hot bath and kept sliding until he was totally submerged. He came up sputtering, shaking water from his hair in very wolfish fashion. Then he relaxed and simply soaked, the back of his head resting on the rim, eyes closed.

  While Kendra picked up his discarded garments, she was aware of him watching her through barely slitted eyes.

  “You could join me,” came his silky suggestion.

  Instantly, she was hot and ready. “I’m afraid that would defeat the purpose of you getting rest. This king is going to be busy sleeping the day and night away in our bed beside me. Because,” she drawled, “tomorrow night your queen doesn’t plan to let him sleep at all.”

 

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