Elise was touched. She squeezed his hand and when her feet touched solid ground, she walked out of the portal and looked around appreciatively. The stone walls of the room were whitewashed and two were hung with medieval tapestries depicting unicorns, dragons and other Underhill animals. The bright jeweled colors hadn’t faded, though Elise knew instinctively they were old. The wall across from the portal held an elegant French provincial writing desk, making the armored guard who sat in front of it look out of place.
“My lord!” The guard, whom Elise recognized, but didn’t know by name, leapt to his feet and bowed. “Miss Sutton. Welcome to Oakwood.”
“Thank you, Philip.” Aidan nodded to the guard. “We’ll be here for an hour or two, in case any messages come in.”
“Of course.” Philip smiled and held open the arched door made of heavy oak planks banded by bronze. “Should I let the kitchen know you’ll want luncheon?”
“No, thanks.” Aidan took Elise’s arm and led her out into what could only be the great hall of a medieval castle. “We’ll stop there on our tour.”
Elise paused and looked around the hall. High timbered ceilings soared over whitewashed stone walls and a smooth flagstone floor. A long table sat on a high dais at one end of the room, while wide double doors forming a pointed arch sealed off the opposite end, flanked by leaded glass windows. Twin staircases rose on either side of the window to open onto wide galleries that ran the length of the great hall. The room they’d come out of was beneath the staircase on one side, and an enormous stone hearth sat in an alcove on the other. Several comfortable-looking leather chairs were clustered around a Persian carpet in front of the fire and Elise giggled as she realized there was a plasma screen TV off to one side. The juxtaposition of modern and medieval was just so…Aidan.
“Well?” Aidan’s voice was soft and sexy as he watched her spin in a circle, taking in the elegant furnishings and the priceless artwork scattered throughout the space. They’d walked to the center of the room and stood beneath an enormous bronze chandelier—the kind that held real candles, not electric lights.
“Wow.” Elise smiled up at him and pointed to the TV. “You get cable here?”
His easy laugh warmed her heart. “No, but you can rig up some appliances to run on magic instead of electricity and sometimes we do watch DVDs.”
She couldn’t resist teasing him some more, because she loved seeing him smile. “So this is home, huh? Just your average, run-of-the-mill castle? Of course in your world, there’ve probably only been a couple generations since this was considered normal.”
“Actually, my grandparents built most of the place. Before them, it was only this hall and nothing more.” His arm slid around her waist as he started walking again, easing her up the room toward the high table. “They added the rest of the castle around it. My parents liked it and never bothered to do more than redecorate a bit here and there, which is what I’ve done as well.”
“Well, I can see why.” She gave in to her body’s urging and leaned into him while they walked, her own arm circling his waist as well. “It’s lovely. Though I think I’d add some sculptures in those corners.” She pointed to the back of the dais. “Maybe some flowers on the tables and on either side of the door.”
“We do have a garden,” he said. “It isn’t as extensive or grand as Meagan’s at Rosemeade, but if you’d like to see it, maybe you can point out which flowers you’d suggest.”
“Sure.” A walk in an actual faerie garden? With a handsome elven lord, no less? What girl could resist that offer?
“Come on, we’ll cut through the kitchens.” He led her up the steps to the platform and through a small archway in the side wall that hadn’t been visible from the floor. Servants’ entrance, she realized, so they could serve the high table without attracting too much attention. A short corridor led to a huge, sunny kitchen that managed to be welcoming and cheerful, even with its stone and heavy-beam construction. Mullioned windows on the back wall let in the bright autumn sunshine, illuminating three women who worked briskly at various tasks—some using magic to accomplish them, such as the one minding something on the black enamel cook stove, and others not, such as another woman kneading dough by hand at a wooden work table.
All activity stopped when Aidan walked into the room.
“My lord!” The woman up to her elbows in bread dough looked up in shock. “We weren’t expecting you.”
“I know you weren’t. We’re only here for a passing visit. If there’s enough, though, we’ll eat the midday meal with the staff.”
“Of course.” She bowed over the dough, her hands never stopping, though she cast Elise a speculative glance.
“Thanks, Gladwys.” As he guided Elise around the table, he paused to snatch a couple of apples from a bowl and winked at the cook. “We’ll be in the gardens if anyone is looking for us.”
They exited through a small door in the back wall, into what was clearly the kitchen garden. Fragrant herbs grew in lush beds beneath fruiting apple, pear and cherry trees. Off to one side, neat rows of vegetables grew on either side of the cobblestone path. Aidan handed her one of the purloined apples and she grinned.
“Aren’t there stories warning humans against eating anything in Faerie? This won’t trap me here forever, will it?” They’d walked farther, to where a stone bench sat beneath a grapevine arbor.
“Only if you want it to.” There was an odd hitch in his voice. “But since you ate at the palace yesterday and made it home, I’d guess you’re safe.”
“Ah, so I did.” She took a bite, unsurprised to find it crisp, tart and juicy. “Aidan, there’s something I’ve really been needing to talk to you about.”
“Do you think Dina would like it here?” He ignored her statement and kept walking. They passed through a small, decorative wooden gate that separated the cooking garden from the more formal flower gardens that made up the castle’s yard. Sweeping lawns were framed by beds of colorful and abundant flowers, down to a creek that circled the castle—make that a moat. Beyond the moat, the castle was surrounded by rolling hills covered with towering forest—virgin growth, she guessed and given the name of the estate, they were probably mostly oak.
Aidan led her to another bench, this one in the shade of an ancient, gnarled oak tree, its leaves beginning to turn red. He eased her down and paced back and forth in front of her.
“Where are we?” she asked, stalling for time from a conversation she didn’t know how to begin. “I mean, if we were in the human realm, where would we be on the map?”
“Southern Ireland. Not too far from Cork.”
“Is this what Ireland looks like in the human realm? I’ve never been there.”
“It did once. Now this part is pretty built up—towns and farms instead of forest.” He stopped pacing to stand in front of her. “Look, Elise, I’ve had a good bit of time to think about this in the last few days. I know there’s a possibility—maybe even a probability—that Dina isn’t my biological daughter.”
She opened her mouth to contradict him, to tell him what she’d learned, but he held up a hand to stop her.
“And I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t bloody well care.” He grimaced and shoved his hands through his hair, pacing again. “That didn’t come out right. I do care. But it doesn’t matter to me if she’s not of my blood. One way or the other, Elise, she’s mine. I can’t explain why, I can’t tell you how it happened, but I love her and I want to be her father. She already seems to think it’s a grand idea.”
“Aidan—”
“I’m not done.” All his pirate arrogance was back as he turned to face her, legs splayed, hands on hips. “I love Dina and not only because I’m in love with her mother, though that’s part of it. I always have been. If we hadn’t argued, I’d have been there for you when you were attacked. I’d have been by your side through your pregnancy, through childbirth and I’d have claimed her as my own, right from the beginning.”
Elise had stop
ped breathing. She felt her jaw drop, knew her eyes were round as dinner plates. Aidan loved her? He always had?
She dragged in a breath, or tried to at any rate, but before she could get her lips to form the words, a shot rang out from behind a trellised rose bush.
“Elise, down.” Aidan leapt across the few feet between them and tackled her to the ground on the far side of the bench. The sharp tang of blood filled her nostrils even as she felt the impact of the earth beneath her and his weight on her chest.
“Fuck.”
Well, if he was swearing, he couldn’t be dead. That was good. She couldn’t heal him if he’d already died.
“I am getting bloody well tired of being shot.”
Okay, he wasn’t even badly injured; his voice was too steady. Elise pushed herself out from underneath him and eased to her knees behind the bench. Two men with guns advanced steadily toward them.
“Made it too damn easy, didn’t you, Green Oak? I thought I’d have to get into your house and use your private portal to come find you. Instead, you came right to me. How convenient is that?”
Oswald—she recognized him from the cairn—lifted his handgun and sighted down the barrel.
Behind Elise, Aidan leapt to his feet and blinked in a gleaming bronze cutlass. Pushing Elise down below the stone bench with one hand, he jumped over it to face his opponent.
She had no doubts about his ability to defeat Oswald. As soon as Aidan closed with the other elf, Oswald dropped his gun and ’ported in his own sword, a sharp-edged Roman-styled gladius, also in bronze. Elise might have let them finish it if she hadn’t seen the djinni, standing off to the side of Oswald, raise a lethal-looking revolver with the longest barrel she’d ever seen on a handgun. He aimed directly at Aidan, ignoring her.
She looked around for a rock, a stick, anything, but couldn’t find a single weapon. Even her shoes were too soft to be of any use. Fortunately, Aidan managed to maneuver Oswald between himself and the djinni.
“You ruined everything, you stupid mortal-loving sod,” Oswald bellowed as their swords clanged. “You were supposed to be dead.” The clanging and bashing of swords and grunts from their impact created gaps in his tirade, but he kept on going.
“You’re a sniveling coward and an ass, Le Faire.” Aidan parried a vicious thrust and sent a bolt of force that made Oswald stagger back a step. “At least this time you’re doing your own dirty work instead of preying on children.”
“Oh, your halfling brat is going to die too, count on it,” Oswald sneered. With his off hand he lobbed a small ball of energy that Aidan easily ducked. Aidan’s blade nicked his shoulder, but he managed to put a gash in Aidan’s side at the same time. “And the others, one by one. With Abed over there, I can go anywhere in either realm. The Willows, the Northwoods—” he grunted as Aidan got him with an elbow to the gut, “—all the contaminated families.”
Elise crept from behind the bench to behind the giant oak. If she could get close enough to touch the djinni, she might be able to do something…
Fear coiled in her stomach, forcing her to swallow back bile. Magic had failed her when she’d needed it most, so she’d rejected it. In order to save Aidan, though, she’d face down the damn Gravaki demon again. Or try the same dreadful spell. She was steadier now, calmer, and had more on the line. This time, she’d make it work—she had to. Steeling her nerves, she eased around the trunk of the tree and gauged the distance between her and the djinni.
Aidan and Oswald continued trading blows and magical blasts, though now both were breathing too raggedly for speech—both were bleeding pretty heavily too. Aidan caught Oswald in a clinch, but Oswald broke his grip with a blow to Aidan’s chin that sent him staggering back. Elise watched the djinni raise his weapon now that there was a gap.
She jumped.
Springing forward with all the strength her legs could muster—thank the gods for her spinning class—she tackled the djinni, knocking him to his side on the ground. His gun flew from his hand, though not before he’d squeezed off a shot. Wood chips sprayed her back as the bullet buried itself in the trunk of the old oak.
He tried to throw her off, but she scissored her legs around his and clamped down, holding tight. Gritting her teeth against the revulsion, she pushed her hands up under his shirt. That shocked him into pausing for a moment, which was all she needed.
Focusing all of her power, Elise did the one thing a healer was never supposed to do. She reversed the energy of her healing magic, draining his life force.
***
Aidan felt every wound Oswald had inflicted, but he refused to let them slow him down. Where were his damned guards when he needed them? Right—he’d wanted to talk to Elise alone, so he hadn’t told any to follow them to the garden. Damn it. Well, one way or another, this would be over soon. Either he or Oswald would be dead. He hoped like hell Elise had made it to the house, where his staff could keep her safe.
While Aidan was tiring, he could see that Oswald was too, maybe even more so. Aidan had made a point of keeping fit, whereas Oswald believed all his abilities were his by right and probably didn’t do anything to stay in shape or practice his swordsmanship. Aidan feinted with his cutlass and fought off Oswald’s attempt to ’port the sword from Aidan’s hand—a beginner’s trick. When Oswald blocked the strike that wasn’t there, Aidan got a wicked slash in against his opponent’s hip, drawing a fair bit of blood and knocking the rotter off-balance in the process. He ducked in close with his cutlass raised almost to Oswald’s neck, but Oswald brought up his off hand and landed a jab into Aidan’s chin that sent him reeling back.
Oh, shite. Aidan saw the djinni point the long-barreled revolver.
Before the bastard could shoot, Elise erupted in a blur from behind the ancient, holy oak tree that had given his family their name. The djinni fired as she bore him to the ground and Aidan barely missed being beheaded by a swipe from Oswald’s sword.
Forced to focus his attention on his own opponent, he rode the adrenaline spike caused by his fear for Elise. With rage fueling his sword arm, he beat Oswald back toward the tree until his knees bumped the bench. When he wavered for a second, Aidan struck. His cutlass blade slammed into the side of Oswald’s neck, cleanly severing the man’s head from his shoulders.
His head rolled off behind the bench, while his body stood for a second, blood fountaining from the neck, before it crumpled to the ground.
Aidan had already started moving toward Elise. She lay on the ground, her limbs tangled up with the djinni’s, and neither of them were moving. Aidan started breathing again when he saw her chest expand and contract as she hauled in a breath. He stepped closer until he could see what was going on.
Un-fucking-believable. Elise had her hands on the djinni’s skin, which was rapidly turning from swarthy to ashen. He gasped for breath, barely still alive, while Elise was pale and shaking herself. Aidan could feel the trails of magic swirling about the pair. This wasn’t Elise’s normal white, healing magic. This was something dark, corrupt and wrong, though in this case, it had probably been necessary. Abusing her power this way must have hurt, magically and emotionally.
The djinni’s gasping stopped as his body went still. Aidan took Elise’s trembling shoulders into his hands and said, “Leannan. Stop.”
At first she didn’t hear him. Two huge tears rolled down her face.
He shook her slightly. “Elise, he’s down. You won. You can stop now.” Grasping her wrists, he pulled her hands from the djinni’s abdomen.
“Aidan?” She let go of the djinni and looked up at him, her eyes wide and blank. “You’re hurt?”
“Only a little. I’ll be okay, but it would be nice if you could fix a couple of the deepest wounds.” And maybe turning her magic back to healing, where it was meant to be, would help her come out of the shell-shock she was in now.
“But the djinni…”
“Is almost dead.” Aidan checked quickly to verify the almost. Yeah, there was a trace of a heartbeat—sle
nder but that was enough. “He won’t be conscious any time soon, sweeting. Come over here and you can help me out, hmmm?” He held her hands while she rose to her feet, and he guided her toward the keep.
Now, two guards came running around the side of the castle. He jerked his head toward the body and the djinni, receiving nods in response. He had a good team; they knew what he needed them to do.
By the time they reached the kitchen garden, Elise had come out of her fog. “Is Oswald dead?”
Aidan nodded. “He is. I’d be sorry about that if he hadn’t tried to kill us both one too many times.”
A ghost of a smile flickered across her lips. “I’m not. It had to be done. Did I kill the djinni?”
“Not quite. I imagine he’ll survive to be questioned by Llyris.” Aidan paused by the door to the kitchen and lifted one hand to her cheek, turning her face up to him. She was still pale, but the glazed look had gone from her eyes.
“Good,” she sucked in a couple of deep breaths and followed him into the keep, growing steadier with each step she took. Clearly the need to care for him was keeping her upright despite the drain on her magic.
When they got inside, Aidan felt the adrenaline rush leave him and suddenly all the pain and blood loss overwhelmed him. He swayed slightly, right before Elise shoved him into a chair.
“Let’s get that shirt off you,” she said and began to examine him with a critical eye. Without turning to the cooks, she held out her hand, “I need a wet cloth, please.”
When it was placed in her hand, she dabbed at a gouge on his upper arm, making sure there were no bits of cloth stuck in the wound. Once she was satisfied, she lay two fingers over the cut and healed it.
When it was done, she sighed and met his eyes. “Whew. I wasn’t sure it was going to work after what I did outside. Glad to know I didn’t screw up my powers for good.”
Motor City Witch Page 18