The evening became a blur of music and laughter. Alice worked until her feet ached and her hand cramped from carrying full jugs of ale. She still managed to sneak one quick trip to the kitchen to feed meat scraps to the exhausted turnspit dog, who lay slumped in front of the fire.
At long last, the musicians grew tired and dropped their instruments. Men drank themselves from raucous to sleepy and heads nodded. One by one, the men staggered to their feet and headed out the door.
Alice dropped to a bench as the last few people were ushered either out the front door or up the stairs to their rooms. Gaffie locked the front door and then turned and leaned against it.
“Well, that was quite the night,” the tavern owner said.
“Everyone seemed in a celebratory mood. I was too busy to ask the occasion.” Alice wiped her face on her apron and then she fanned herself with the edge of fabric.
“Jimmy’s crew had a good day.” Daisy sat next to her.
“Oh? What do they do?” Given that Jimmy didn’t own a boat, Alice was pretty sure his crew weren’t a bunch of sailors or fishermen.
Gaffie flicked a towel at Daisy. “They had an excellent day at market and all that spare coin was rattling around in their pockets.” The older woman smiled broadly. “Now it’s rattling around in my pockets.”
Alice bit back her retort. She assumed the men took their contraband into Hythe for sale or distribution. That was a type of market, she supposed. “I think there will be quite a few sore heads in the morning, judging by the amount of alcohol consumed.”
Daisy nudged her with an elbow. “How’s Sean? He looked like he was hurting.”
“His leg is bad.” His leg and her heart—both ached with no cure in sight. “I need to find some herbs to ease his pain. Something stronger than willow bark.”
“You want old Nelly.” Gaffie lowered herself to the bench. “She lives along the inland road, at the edge of the forest. Grows all sorts of things out there.”
No matter what county one travelled to, there was always a mage-blooded healer or witch around somewhere, living apart from others and growing all kinds of herbs and plants. “Thank you. I’ll visit her in the morning if you could do without me here for a couple of hours?”
Gaffie reached out and squeezed her hand. “We’ll cope. You find something to help Sean feel better.”
Alice wondered if their local witch knew a spell to harden her heart so it no longer bled. “I’ll find some more berries for pie while I’m out.”
Daisy winked in her direction. “Why don’t you toddle off to bed? That man’s probably waiting up for you.”
Alice sighed. If only he was.
18
Ewan
* * *
Ewan was still awake when Alice returned in the small hours of morning. Yet again, he had hurt the young woman when he only sought to protect her. How did someone with his charm with the fairer sex manage to make such a pig’s ear of things? It should have been easy to explain to her that he denied his feelings to shield her, yet the words twisted on his tongue and gave the flavour that the fault was hers.
He couldn’t sleep knowing she laboured in the tavern. Having no purpose weighed on him. Was this what his life would become if the mages failed to heal him—relying on others to provide, while he did nothing?
At least there were signs of progress with his mission, and tonight he’d spotted Forge. He suspected Forge had sent Crufts to talk to him and that Jimmy was just a mouthpiece for the group. Ewan was confident of being admitted to the gang, so long as Alice’s spell concealed his true identity from Forge.
Clothing rustled as Alice undressed in the dark, and then silence.
Her poultice had brought him some relief, and he was able to rouse his wolf enough to use its vision to see her outline in the dark, standing immobile at the end of the bed. He let the wolf go to sink back into oblivion, before a headache threatened from the exertion.
“You know the rules. We’re either both in the bed or both on the floor,” he said.
A sigh came in answer and then the bed dipped as she climbed over the end and crawled in against the wall. She didn’t move towards him, and the hollow in his chest began to freeze like the water of a pond in winter.
“Let’s not argue, Alice, please. The defect is entirely my own, not yours, and I cannot sleep unless you are next to me.” He walked a dangerous line. He needed her companionship and warmth as much as his lungs needed air, but at the same time, he had to keep her at arm’s length.
“We are an odd couple,” she whispered. “I push, you pull. I want too much and you have nothing to give.”
“Alice.” The ice around his heart cracked at her mournful words. He murmured her name again and then reached for her. Finding her form, he wrapped his arm under her and pulled her tight against him. “I would give you everything, but I cannot.”
He needed to protect her from the most terrifying thing the world contained—him. Deep within him lurked a monster more evil and destructive than Hoth. His wolf kept that creature at bay, and they both worked to ensure it would never rise to the surface and hurt someone.
But Alice crept into all his hidden spaces—what if, in reaching for his wolf, she inadvertently touched the other beast instead? He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her or of seeing her flesh bruised and broken like his mother’s. Alice needed to stay far away, even as he needed her skin pressed against his.
With a sigh, she settled against him. “There was a man in the yard earlier, he said his name was Callum.”
Ewan froze. “What did this man look like?”
“That is the strange part, there was nothing remarkable about him except for his eyes. They were black and dead with no spark of life within them. We talked for a little while, and then he simply disappeared back into the shadows.”
“Forge.” He hissed the name between his teeth. “Do you think he was watching us?”
He could only hope they hadn’t somehow given themselves away. The man had watched him in the tavern but not a flicker of recognition had passed between them. But then, Forge hadn’t survived this long by being overt. Did Forge know Sean was really Ewan, come to bring him to justice?
If Ewan had a heart, it would have stopped as he considered the risk to Alice. He bristled that she had stood outside their door, alone with the murderous vampyre. Forge could have drained her body and tossed her down the well and no one would ever know. His wolf snarled and twisted, trying to break free to protect Alice.
Her body relaxed against his side even as his stiffened, prepared to fight for her.
“He didn’t seem to be paying any notice to the cottage. He said he wanted to escape the noise in the tavern and that he heard the men talk about my pies.”
“Be on your guard, Alice. He is dangerous, and if he suspects our true reason for being here, both our lives would be forfeit.” He had been a fool, thinking he could protect Alice, but what could a crippled wolf do against the much stronger Unnatural?
“I am going to visit the local witch in the morning, and I will ask her about vervain.” Her arm stretched across his chest as she snuggled closer.
“Good.” He kissed the top of her head. He would make her a dress of the herb if it kept Forge far away from her. Perhaps with a garlic necklace and hat to match.
Oh, the irony. He had hoped they were in the right place to find the smuggling ring Forge used, and now he wanted to snatch Alice away and send her back to Ianthe and safety. “Promise me you will never again be alone with him or get too close.”
“I promise,” she murmured as her head dropped to his chest.
Her breathing became deep and even as she fell asleep. Ewan still lay awake, running through scenarios in his mind and trying to unravel an impossible puzzle: how to have the woman at his side without destroying her or getting her killed.
Another morning arrived far too soon. One thing Ewan had always loathed about army life was their insistence on springing from bed before d
awn. No one needed to be awake that early unless you were returning from the gaming dens, delivering coal, or collecting nightsoil. He missed the indolent London lifestyle where one didn’t have to rise from bed until after noon.
What would it be like to linger in bed all morning with this woman? The ache in his chest moved lower. He may be injured and defective, but he wasn’t dead. Nor was he a saint. Having the nubile woman he desired draped over him reminded his body of a thirst that had gone too long unquenched.
He needed to douse himself with cold water before she saw that his resolve not to touch her dangled by a burning thread.
“Eilidh wants out,” he whispered, and then he reluctantly moved away from her warmth and grabbed his trousers.
The terrier rushed off to the field behind the cottage. Ewan left her to tend her needs while he saw to his. He pulled a bucket of water from the well and shoved his whole head in. Holding his breath, he tolerated the frigid water until his lungs nearly burst, then he stood up and shook icy drips down his naked torso. The heat burning on the inside dissipated somewhat. As long as Alice had dressed by the time he returned, the fire shouldn’t reignite.
Eilidh reappeared, and damp man and canine walked back to the cottage. Alice had risen, dressed, and was making tea. Ewan let out a relieved breath; he wouldn’t be tortured by the silhouette of her naked form within her shift.
“I could have heated some water for you to wash,” Alice said as she poured from the kettle into the smaller pot.
“I find cold water quite invigorating.” He found a shirt, dragged it over his head, then cast around for his waistcoat. He always felt naked until he had a certain number of layers buttoned up around his body. Fine clothes were his armour that allowed him to lock everything inside.
“We are running out of tea. If you find the smugglers, do see if you can steal a small quantity of it.” Alice set two mugs on the table.
“I shall make the procurement of more tea a priority mission for today.” Ewan eyed his grubby stockings before he pulled them on his feet. What he would give for crisp, clean clothes.
Alice removed a pot of porridge from the grate over the fire and dished it out. Breakfast was simple, but kept them both sustained until suppertime.
“I have my own mission to visit the local mage-blooded healer today. Apart from acquiring vervain and a few other herbs I need, I shall find more berries for pie. It’s a battle to find the ripe ones before the birds gobble them all up,” she said.
Her pies were made from ambrosia. The sugar and spice balanced the tart blackberries, and the crust was light and flaky. Night after night, the patrons devoured as many as Alice could make.
Ewan patted his stomach. “If you keep making pies like that, I’ll never be able to lever myself back on a horse. You also won’t need to spin an enchantment to add flesh to my bones.”
She flashed him a brief smile before dipping her spoon into the hot porridge. “We need to earn the trust of these people, and pie seems to be my way.”
Knowing Forge lurked in the shadows only increased Ewan’s concern for her. At least she rode inland, whereas Forge would be hiding from the sunlight in a dank cave somewhere near the coast. “Be careful, and take both Eilidh and your dagger.”
Alice lifted the hem of her gown to reveal the short brown boot and the knife strapped to her lower leg. “Easy to reach, just like you showed me.”
The sight of her leg was like blowing on the embers in his gut, and the flames threatened to sweep through his body. He dropped his gaze to his spoon. “I am riding out to see my contact. The gang is going to make use of me if I can offer something of value. I plan on delivering them the movements of the excise officers, and I shall obtain tea in exchange.”
A brief smile touched her lips before she fell silent once more. Events lay unresolved between them. It was easier in the dark to hold each other while they whispered of secret things. In the daylight, it was harder to hide what burned behind your eyes. He had to do something to break the impasse, but what?
Alice renewed the spell to disguise his features and then left without her customary kiss to his cheek. Ewan watched her ride out of the yard and rubbed his face. The itch was only the growth of his beard, not his skin missing the touch of her lips.
He took his time saddling his horse and then rode north. At the same spot along the coast, he stopped and watched the ocean as he waited for his contact. Before too long, he appeared and the men had a brief conversation before going their separate ways. That left Ewan with a new problem—how to find the smugglers?
He should see if he could steal an item belonging to Jimmy that would enable Alice to locate him with her gift. Until then, he would try his own reconnaissance. Their sort didn’t usually erect signs to their secret caves and passages, which made them rather difficult to stumble upon.
If he were a smuggler, which cove would he pick? He rode the coastline, pondering the available choices and contours of the land. They needed a cave to hide the contraband until it could be moved. A flat expanse of beach was visible from inland and wasn’t very desirable. They would want a bit of a shelter at their backs, perhaps a small cliff that might conceal secret tunnels or entrances.
He paused at one such spot, although he could easily find a dozen such locations if he kept riding. For once, fate smiled upon him. Jimmy rode up on his broad draught horse.
“The very man I was looking for,” Ewan called out as he neared.
“And now you have found me,” Jimmy replied as he pulled his horse to a halt.
“I have spoken to my man and he had information to pass along.” Ewan kept a smile on his face while inward he hoped Jimmy appeared because he had stumbled upon the right stretch of beach.
Jimmy fidgeted with his reins and looked around. A complex internal battle played out across his face. Either that or he was constipated, by the way he screwed up his eyes. Then the situation appeared to resolve itself and he dismounted from his horse.
“You may as well come with me,” Jimmy said.
Ewan leaned on his horse’s neck as he slid to the ground, then the men tethered their mounts to a nearby tree. Jimmy led the way down a worn path to the beach.
Below, tucked in the sheltering embrace of the overhanging cliff, were two dinghies. The timbers were worn and covered in barnacles and Ewan wondered how watertight their hulls were. A familiar man coiled a rope by one boat. Crufts.
“He one of us, then?” Crufts said as they approached.
“I reckon, if the boss agrees,” Jimmy replied.
Crufts dropped the rope into the bottom of the closest boat. “I want to see this; could get entertaining if you’re wrong. We both know what he did to Jones.”
Jimmy paled under the layer of grime covering his face, and Ewan had a flash of sympathy for the big man, assuming Jones was the drained corpse found on the beach. Jimmy would be quite the banquet if the vampyre decided to feast upon him. Daisy might have far bigger concerns than the marital bed, like picking out her widow’s weeds.
Jimmy shrugged as though he didn’t care, but he swallowed several times as though his throat had gone dry. “Evans is solid and the boss will see that.”
Jimmy walked up another path, invisible from above, that was cut through the rock. Ewan followed and Crufts went behind. A little way up the path, Jimmy headed into the shadows cast by an outcrop. Ewan rolled his shoulders, his way of checking the location of his knives before he followed Jimmy.
The shadow turned into the entrance of a cave that led inland along a narrow tunnel. At points it was barely wide enough to roll a barrel, but it was concealed from prying eyes above. A light flickered up ahead, and soon the tunnel widened out into a natural cave. In the middle, opposite the entrance, a lantern sat atop a barrel. A man sat beside it at a small table, reading from a large ledger.
Shadows reached to either side of the cave, as far as the scant flame would allow, and revealed row after row of barrels stacked at least four high before they merged
with the dark and disappeared. Ewan couldn’t count how many in total, but he guessed a hundred or more. Why would Forge stockpile liquor?
“Boss, Evans has some information to pass along.” Jimmy quickly side stepped to reveal Ewan behind him.
Forge closed the ledger and looked up. His piercing black gaze narrowed on Ewan, though he spoke to Jimmy. “And you thought to bring him here and reveal our location?”
Jimmy took off his cap and wrung it between his hands. “I . . . umm . . . I met him just by the path and didn’t think—”
“No. You seldom do think, McGaffin. He is here now. Let’s hear what he has to say, and then I will decide his fate.” Forge dismissed Jimmy with a wave of his hand.
Ewan noted how Jimmy rushed to hide behind him, and then he limped a few steps closer to Forge. He prayed Alice’s spell held and that the vampyre didn’t have some way of seeing through enchantments. “I know a customs fellow. He told me the men would be out in force along this stretch tonight. They’ll even have a ship patrolling the coast to stop all incoming boats.”
Forge stared at him, his dead features unreadable. Then he nodded. “My thanks. Tonight we’ll light the beacon so my ship knows to stay away. You could be handy.” Forge’s hand rested on the ledger, one long and sharp fingernail tapped the cover. “Can you read and write?”
“My mother was a gentlewoman and saw to it that I knew my letters and numbers. But my hand is not as tidy as it once was.” Ewan held up the injured arm, still stiff but useable since Alice had worked her magic. “I can write with my left; it just takes a little longer.”
Forge grunted. “A man of talents. Good. If you can keep the ledger of what comes in and payments, that would free me to concentrate on other matters.”
“Since we are to be comrades, you wouldn’t happen to have any tea going spare, would you? Alice ran out this morning.” Ewan grinned.
Forge laughed and then pointed to Jimmy. “Find the man a small measure of tea. He has saved us far more by letting us know the customs men will be out tonight.”
Souls to Heal Page 17