I hit my indicator and take the next lane. “I don’t mean to be. Honestly.”
We drive past a strip of restaurants and Sloan points. “We had that Swiss Chicken the other night. It was good. Can ye get takeout there?”
“It’s Swiss Chalet. If you’re committed to a relationship with me, you’ll have to get that right. Swiss Chalet.”
He laughs. “My mistake. I’ll commit that to memory.”
A great Thomas Rhett song comes on, and I turn it up and belt it out. I’m a halfway decent singer, and I love this one. When it’s over, I turn down the volume to a polite level again and catch Sloan smiling at me.
“She can sing, too. A triple threat.”
I giggle. “I don’t act.”
“What do you mean?”
I glance down at the lighted map on the screen and get ready for the next turn. “Usually a triple threat involving singing, is sing, dance, and act. I can hold a tune. You saw me and the boys dance at Brenny’s wake, but I can’t act.”
“No. You can’t.”
I hear the amusement in his tone and cast a sideways glance. “What does that mean?”
“Not a thing. I agree with ye. Yer a straightforward lass and it’s evident when ye lie. Ye have a glass face and yer every thought and emotion are there to be read.”
I frown at the car ahead of me. “Says you and no one else on the planet. I’m a great bluffer. I’m spy-caliber deceptive.”
He laughs. “If ye think so.”
“If you don’t think so, that either makes you equally skilled in the art of deception or maybe as off-center as me.”
“It’s likely the second one. And I’m happy to have found such alluring company off the beaten path.”
We drive for another few minutes. I don’t see anywhere that interests me to stop and eat so I give up the idea and decide to grab something after we finish at Garnet’s.
My mind circles back around to his original comment about me being a triple threat. “So, back to the triple threat. If it’s not acting, what is it? I can sing, dance, and…”
He points out the windshield. “Oh look, we’re here.”
The tires have barely stopped rolling when he bails out of the passenger’s seat. I’m turning things off and pulling the key as he opens my door and chuckles. “This will drive you mad, won’t it?”
“You give yourself too much credit, Mackenzie. You’re not that complicated. I’ll figure it out.”
He flashes me a cocky grin. “Shall we see who caves first? I can guarantee it won’t be me.”
I wave the taunt away and click the locks on the truck. “I can hardly wait to see Garnet’s place. I mean, what do you think the home of the Alpha of the Moon Called looks like?”
Sloan falls into step. “Never gave it a moment’s thought. Then again, yer the overthinker of this couple. Always puzzling over the little mysteries in life. I’m happy to take things as they come.”
I burst out laughing. “Says the guy who has his head in a textbook every spare moment and worries about everything coming at us.”
“That’s not overthinkin’, that’s common sense. Someone has to have an eye on the horizon when yer in the picture.”
We walk under the brick archway that hides the house from the street, and I feel the subtle resistance of a magic barrier. My shield doesn’t ignite, so I push through the bubble of the invisible wall.
My ears pop, and we emerge on the other side.
I freeze in my tracks, and my eyes widen. “Shut… Up.”
Wondering about Garnet’s home hasn’t prepared me in the slightest. I was expecting a modern, concrete, chrome, and glass mansion with infinity pools and buff men standing at the doors—I was not expecting this.
Chapter Eighteen
“Are we in freakin’ Africa?”
Night is now day, and a hot sun beating down on us replaces the cool, late September night air. The house is built almost completely into the side of a massive savannah stone steppe. It’s as if the rock holds the mansion in its gaping maw, threatening to clamp down and devour the entire place.
“I have goosebumps. Look at me. I’m covered in goosebumps.”
Sloan doesn’t look. His gaze is locked on the five lions glaring at us from their perch on the rocks above. “This is Garnet’s pride compound, I expect.”
I survey the area. Beyond the compound is a vast, golden plane with tall, dry grasses and nothing but land and trees for as far as I can see. The leaves of the sparsely spaced baobab trees wave, but the breeze is barely enough to take the singe out of the air.
The compound itself consists of the rocky steppe that encompasses the house. Over to the side, more lions lounge in a shaded oasis around a lush watering hole while others in human form wrestle and play in the water and on the green grass.
“And that’s Garnet’s foolish pride.” I point, laughing at my joke. “Get it? Foolish pride?”
Sloan rolls his eyes.
No accounting for taste. That was a good one.
“So, is this National Geographic experience in my city, or did we portal around the globe?”
“I’m not sure. Either way, it’s disorienting.”
Two of the lounging lions get up from the grassy patch, stretch, and prowl over.
My fingers twitch to call Birga, but spear-hunting Garnet’s lion brothers in his home compound would likely be bad form. As they draw near, they shift and continue on two feet. Dressed in black jeans and t-shirts that pull tightly over muscled chests, I recognize them as two of Garnet’s men I’ve seen on different occasions.
“This way,” one of them says. “He’s expecting you.”
The man who speaks has flaxen gold hair that curls over his ears, sharp cheekbones, and a square jaw. He moves with the same fluid and confident stride as Garnet and strides past us to lead the way down a fieldstone path.
The second man falls behind us, and I wonder if he’s there to protect our asses from the lions or protect the lions from us. He’s shorter but no less muscled than the first guy and has blond-brown hair.
“We’ve never officially met,” our blond guide says. “I am Anyx, Second Alpha to the Moon Called, and this is Thaor.”
“I’m Fiona, and this is Sloan.” I figure he probably already knows who I am, but it can’t hurt to return the civil gesture. “This place is incredible.”
“Felines do like creature comforts.” He saunters around the corner of the house, through a little cactus garden, and under the ceiling of an outdoor living room. The heat of outside cuts off the moment we step into the shade.
Anyx closes his hand around the chrome door grip and slides back the glass wall that divides the indoor and outdoor of the house. Natural materials finish the interior: exposed rock above, wooden columns, slate floors, and granite surfaces. It exudes the elegance I’ve grown accustomed to expect with Garnet.
I stare at the banquet laid out on the long buffet against the kitchen island, and my stomach lets out an embarrassing growl of approval.
Anyx smiles. “Please, help yourselves. I’ll let them know you’ve arrived.”
As he strides off, I stare at the food and swallow as saliva pools in my mouth.
Thaor closes the wall and takes up position blocking our way out. He widens his stance and clasps his hands at his front, standing at attention like a good little lion soldier.
I point at the food. “Are we interrupting a get-together?”
Thaor shakes his head, his stance stiff.
“Are you expecting trouble?”
Again with the head shaking.
A quiet fellow, that Thaor.
“Lady Druid.” Garnet strides into the open-concept area with a level of ease and comfort I’ve never seen in him before.
When he gets to me, he stops, grips my wrists, and holds out my arms as if he’s checking me over. “Thank the gods you’re well. You do live a life of adventure, don’t you? Zxata told me of your harrowing tale.”
I narrow my g
aze. The last thing we agreed on before leaving the Emporium was that for everyone’s safety, we wouldn’t spread the word about the Eochair Prana being a new arrival in the neighborhood.
Then again, Garnet possesses coercion.
Would he use that on his ex-girlfriend’s brother, a man he obviously considers a friend?
Was Da right about his character?
Garnet releases my wrists and steps back. “I’ve upset you. Why? What did I say?”
He seems genuinely disturbed by my reaction. “Sorry. I’m surprised Zxata said anything. I thought we had the understanding to keep tonight private.”
Garnet nods at his men, and they retreat outside to their sunny, summery day. “You’re surprised that a Governor of the Guild reported the arrival of a potentially devastating tome to the leader of the security agency responsible for the lives of thousands of empowered ones? That he is concerned about the seduction of such an object and feels we might need to monitor our populations in case they’re affected?”
“I guess if you put it that way, it makes sense. Sorry.”
“It’s a non-issue. As you’ve said before, you’re unfamiliar with the workings of the Lakeshore Guild. So, tell me what worried you about Zxata confiding in me?”
“It wasn’t about you. I simply don’t want people to know who has the book or where it is. I’m tired of others painting targets on my family and me. It puts all of us in danger if powerful people who embrace the dark side decide they want to have a look-see and try to force me to disclose where it’s stashed.”
“Agreed. And again, I regret what Barghest, the hobgoblins, and by extension, the vampires put you and your family through. It was an unfortunate and regrettable start to our relationship. I, however, am no threat.”
“I believe that, but can you say that about all your Guild Governors?”
He waves that away and pulls a beer from an ice bucket at the end of the buffet line. “Another non-issue. I won’t report it to the others and won’t tell another soul. Zxata knows me a great deal better than you, and he had the confidence to tell me the whole truth. Please, try to give me the same trust.”
The ship has sailed on the “tell him everything” sea anyway. So yeah, there’s that. “I haven’t had the best luck with members of the empowered community earning my trust.”
“Yet.” He waggles his brows. “Let’s break bread and work on that right now. Please, Anyx should have offered you something to eat. You’re hungry. I can smell your ravenousness, and it’s making my lion prowl. I’m surprised no one pounced on you on the way in.”
Ahhh… Was that what the double escort sandwich was all about? Were Anyx and Thaor flanking me from getting munched? Comforting.
I look at the food and groan. “Normally, I’d do the Irish thing and insist I’m fine, but I’m starving, and I don’t want to make your lion prowl.”
“Then help yourself. If not for your sake, then for mine.”
I accept the offered plate. “All right, for you, I’ll eat.”
* * *
After I fill my belly, I take my turn and go in to sit with Myra. I tell her about my adventure with Fionn in the past and the attack from the hobgoblins and Liam getting shot. When I’ve exhausted the one-sided convo, I squeeze her hand and rise from my chair.
I’ve been sitting so long that I’m stiff.
Well, maybe it was sitting, or perhaps it was nearly being overtaken by an evil grimoire. I wish I could say the darkness was completely out of my system, but it’s not.
The taint of Morgana’s call and the yearning to go back and get the book still haunts me. Dora wants me to continue going back to her for clearings. By the look on her face, I’m worried. She’s had a long time to consider what bonding with that book might have done to me. Who knows, I might never be truly rid of the effects.
Unbidden, images of obsessive, bug-eyed hobbits come to mine. My Precious.
Ohmygod, I soooo don’t want to be Gollum.
My stomach knots and a tide of anxiety churns my buffet selections. I groan and make a hasty rush for the ensuite. I burst into the posh and polished room, hit my knees, and pray to the porcelain god as my muscles convulse and I retch.
Amazeballs.
After a couple of violent rounds of heaving, I reach with my toe and shut the door. The last thing I need is for Garnet or Sloan to see me like this. Save me from the gallantry of men.
Plunking back on my ass, I close my eyes and pull strength from the cool, slate stone beneath my palms.
Are ye all right, Red?
Peachy. I love barfing in strangers’ houses.
Do ye think it was the food? Is yer shield warnin’ ye about poison or anythin’ of the like?
No. The food was delish. It was a shockwave from Morgana’s book. I’m fine.
If yer sure.
I am. Thanks.
After another minute of telling myself to get my butt in gear, I pull my shit together and splash water on my face. As I refold the little hand towel and hang it neatly over the ring, I check the mirror and lock stares with myself.
“Nothing to see here. You’ve got this. You’re not Gollum. You’re Fiona-freakin’-Cumhaill.”
I flick off the light on my way out, and a picture on the wall opposite the ensuite door catches my attention.
It’s Myra, Garnet, and a young boy.
There’s no looking at the three of them and not seeing that the boy is a bio-mixture of their traits. He has his father’s dark, wavy hair and amethyst eyes and his mother’s crackled silver skin and welcoming smile.
Then I remember Myra and I talking about Da’s grief when Brenny first died.
“I know the pain of losing a son,” Myra said. “It’s not something that ever truly eases. Your father may never be the same man you knew before.”
I press my hand to the tightness in my chest. Oh, no.
That’s the loss Gran talked about.
That’s the pain keeping them apart although they still love one another. I go back to my seat at Myra’s bedside, take her hand, and close my eyes.
Pain of loss and wounds of old,
I set you free; you have no hold.
Your heart will heal, the burden lighter,
Your love is strong; you are a fighter.
I brush Myra’s electric blue bangs to the side and smile. “Feel better. We’ll talk soon. I know we will.”
I find Sloan and Garnet sharing a drink in the living room. If I’m honest, the entire exchange looks strained.
Weird. I find chatting with each of them quite easy.
“Hey.” I grab a chunk of smoked cheese off the tray as I pass. It has a heavy hickory flavor, and I hope it wipes out the taste of death celebrating in my mouth. “Everything okay in here? Did Zxata and Dora leave?”
Sloan stands, looking relieved at my return. “They did. How was your visit with Myra?”
“Good. I updated her on things and cast a cleansing spell to clear her system for healing. I hope with that, and the healing on Mr. Tree, she’ll be on the road to recovery once Garnet’s people come up with the antidote.”
“You’re a good friend,” Garnet says. “Listen, I heard a little about what you went through since the vampires took you from the back of the bar. You’ve battled enough for other people. I want you to go home and take some time for yourself.”
I yawn and cover my mouth. “Sorry, that was rude and had nothing to do with what you were saying.”
“No. It was exactly my point. Go home, Lady Druid. Get some rest, and spend some much-needed time in your sacred grove refilling your stores. Prana doesn’t miraculously fuel us. Everyone needs to take time.”
I nod. “All right, but before I go, there is one last thing I’d like to do. You asked me to trust you earlier, so now I ask the same thing. Will you trust me?”
Garnet straightens his arms and tugs on his sleeves’ cuffs where they protrude from the arms of his suit jacket. “Trust you with what?”
“Trust m
e to help you help Myra.”
Garnet’s brow arches. “And what does that entail?”
“That’s where the trust part comes in.” I hold out my hands, palms up. “I want to give you something, and by extension, Myra. I promise it will help.”
Garnet’s gaze locks on me. I wait, neither advancing nor dropping my hands. In the end, he places his palms in mine and closes his fingers around my hands.
I smile, close my eyes, and send my call through my feet to the ground beneath us. After anchoring myself in the connection of nature, I repeat Gran’s spell in my mind.
Pain of loss and wounds of old,
I set you free; you have no hold.
Your heart will heal, the burden lighter,
Your love is strong; you are a fighter.
Garnet gasps as I release his hands, and I wink. “Take care of her. I’ll check in with you when I know more.”
“What did you do?”
My skin tingles as his gaze narrows, and he pegs me with a probing stare. “Your coercion doesn’t work on me, Grand Governor, so don’t do that. I don’t like it.”
His mouth lifts in a crooked smile. “Then we’re even, Lady Druid. You did something to me just now, and I don’t know what and I don’t like it.”
I offer him a sympathetic smile. “But you will.”
He waves toward the door. “Off you go. Dreamland awaits.”
I’m halfway to the door when Garnet’s words twang a tuning fork in my mind. “Dreamland awaits. That’s it! Garnet, you’re a genius. Yay, you!”
* * *
I race back and burst into Myra’s room. By the time Sloan and Garnet get there, I’ve toed off my sneakers and am climbing onto the bed. I take the outside edge and pat the velvety coverlet in the space I left between Myra and me. “Come lay with me, Sloan. I have an idea.”
I give him huge credit. He doesn’t question why. He unties the laces of his shoes and sets them neatly by the door. Man, he’s so anal.
When he climbs up, I pat the pillow, and he lays down. I grin. “Now that I’ve got you right where I want you…”
He barks a nervous laugh. “Are ye havin’ a stroke? Should Garnet call someone?”
A Family Oath Page 19