“Done,” Laev said. “And in addition, I will give your daughter Tiana a golden favor token. So your Family can call upon the Hawthorns up to the death of anyone save the Head of Household. A life for a life.”
“We do not feud. The Mugworts have never feuded,” the man said. “We doubt we would demand a life.” He sounded appalled.
From what Laev had heard of the ex-lord and lady, they hadn’t fought when they should have, hadn’t stood up to the rumors surrounding them. He shrugged. Their past was not his concern. They’d helped him now and deserved the gold token.
The woman curtsied deeply. “We thank you, GreatLord T’Hawthorn.”
He nodded, gently slid his arms under Camellia, and lifted her. “Teleporting on three,” he said. Artemisia moved to join her parents. Each put a hand on her shoulder.
Envy twinged through him. They were a close and loving Family, and he knew that had Camellia shown up at that door by herself, she’d have been considered part of that Family.
But she was his now, and he would protect her. Feam Kelp would never have a chance to hurt her again.
And someday they would have children of their own, perhaps someday stand like that, a Family.
“My thanks again,” he said.
Wait for Us! screeched Brazos. Stup Residence didn’t let Us in!
The people at the door parted and once again the two Fams leapt onto Laev’s shoulders. He smiled. He had his own Family with him now. “Teleporting on three,” he repeated, then counted down. “One, Camellia, two, Laev T’Hawthorn, three!”
And they were gone from the lost grove. The familiar comfort of T’Hawthorn Residence surrounded him and he cherished the feeling. They stood on his teleportation pad in his sitting room.
“Residence audio to the entire castle, all the Family within!” Laev snapped.
“Yes, T’Hawthorn. Audio ready.”
“My HeartMate was injured and has been Healed. I want servers standing by.”
“It will be done,” T’Hawthorn Residence whispered. “She is well?”
“She is well and will be staying here. Contact—”
“You are well?”
“I’m fine. Contact guardsman Winterberry—”
“He has already been here,” the Residence said.
“Our lady’s uncle had a disastrous accident teleporting into a wardrobe in her bedroom,” the Residence said.
“What!”
I was there. Mica growled. Serves him right. He hurt FamWoman. He hurt Me! Had to go to D’Ash’s! She wrinkled her nose. Nasty look and smell, though.
Brazos licked her ear.
The Residence said, “And our lady’s father set fire to Darjeeling’s Teahouse. He was killed by blazer fire by Garrett Primross.”
Laev should have put Camellia down on his bed immediately. He staggered from his sitting room to his bedroom and laid her tenderly on his bed. It was not a bed he’d ever shared with Nivea, and he was glad of that.
Camellia looked perfect there. He thought she might also look perfect in the generational bed in the MasterSuite. Both Mica and Brazos hopped onto the bedsponge.
Knocking came at his sitting room door and he reluctantly left his HeartMate to answer it. As soon as he did, his housekeeper and several of his female relatives who worked as maids bustled in. They brought basins of warm herbed water and towels.
He held the door for them, and by the time the last was through, his housekeeper, Alma, was exclaiming at Camellia’s state. Laev’s jaw flexed. He strode into his bedroom to see it lit by several spellglobes and the women bathing a nude Camellia. There was a dark red scar where the knife wound had been, but that would fade.
The cats sat, watching every movement.
“Laev, you should go and let us take care of her.”
“No. Wash her and leave her be.”
His housekeeper sniffed. “I’m sure she would be more comfortable in a nightgown.” As soon as she said it, a delicate pale green gown covered her arms in soft folds. It looked long. Laev had never seen Camellia wear a long nightgown.
“She prefers a sleep shirt of antique fashion,” he said.
“Hmm.” Alma frowned, then the gown vanished and a bright red silkeen sleep shirt appeared with rounded hems in the front and back.
“Dress her and go away.”
“You should go—”
“No. If Winterberry shows up, I’ll talk to him here. I promised I’d be here when she woke, and I don’t want you around.”
“Manners,” Alma said.
“I have them. Not using them. Go. Away.”
“Oh, very well.”
The women dressed Camellia, tucked her between the clean linens, and drew up the comforter. Then they left. Laev set a chair by the bed and reached for Camellia’s hand and held it. He wished he’d asked the Mugwort Healers how long she would sleep. He worried.
And he itched to find Feam Kelp.
Brazos, do you think you could track Feam Kelp for me?
Laev’s Fam sat straight and proud. So We can hunt him?
“Yes.” A little of the cat’s energy and lust for the hunt infused Laev. He wanted to hurt Kelp.
I can find him. I am a very gifted Cat. I will go now.
Now Mica rose to lick his ear. I will stay here with my FamWoman.
I will go back to warehouse. Brazos ’ported away.
Laev’s scry panel sounded. “T’Hawthorn here,” he said.
Guardsman Winterberry, the guard assigned to the FirstFamilies, appeared on the screen. “Greetyou, T’Hawthorn.”
“Greetyou. Tell me of the damage to Darjeeling’s Teahouse first.”
“The only casualty was GraceLord T’Darjeeling. There were a few injuries, quite a few scared patrons.”
Laev winced.
The white-haired guard said, “I believe that if D’Darjeeling is generous, she will not lose any patronage, but will gain in publicity.”
“Residence?” Laev asked.
“Here, T’Hawthorn.”
“Contact the managers of Darjeeling’s Teahouse and Darjeeling’s HouseHeart. Have them do whatever they believe is necessary to handle any expenses or complaints with regard to the problems at Darjeeling’s Teahouse tonight. If Antenn Moss-Blackthorn has arrived in Druida, please request he go to the location of Darjeeling’s Teahouse and give me an estimate as to the damage and any construction costs. We will guarantee all payment by Darjeeling.”
“Yes, T’Hawthorn,” the Residence said.
“Also contact Garrett Primross and have him report.”
“I have a formal report from him, T’Hawthorn, that I can forward,” said Winterberry.
“Thank you.”
“Primross stated he’d been retained by you to investigate the elder male Darjeelings.”
“That is correct,” Laev said.
“GraceLord T’Darjeeling’s death has been ruled accidental.”
“How?” Laev asked.
“All the patrons fled the premises. Garrett Primross fired a lowstun warning blazer stream at the man, but it hit a Flaired mirror that freakily magnified the blazer power. T’Darjeeling stepped right in front of the ricocheted stream.”
Laev stared at the man. “You’re sure that’s what happened?”
Winterberry’s lips curved in a cool smile. “There were staff witnesses, and we are sure the hit was accidental. I believe scientists and priestesses are already arguing about Flair, mirrors, and trajectories. As well as curses.”
“Very odd,” was all Laev found to say.
The guard’s expression turned serious. “Both bodies are in Death Grove.” Winterberry cleared his throat. “Along with a wardrobe from Clovers’ Fine Furniture.”
Laev winced. He didn’t recall such a wardrobe in Camellia’s house, obviously her uncle hadn’t known it was there, either.
“Several cases of theft seem to be solved by Primross,” Winterberry said.
“That’s good. Is there anything else you need of me? M
y HeartMate is injured.”
Winterberry gazed at him with steady eyes. “Not at the moment. Her brother is being treated at AllClass HealingHall. His Fam is with him.”
Laev didn’t know much of what had happened, but that could wait. Camellia was stirring.
“I must go. Please send me complete reports on tonight’s events.”
“I will. When will your lady be available for interviewing?”
“Not tonight. I don’t know when she’ll be able to talk to you.”
“I understand,” Winterberry said. His tone was matter-of-fact, but the set of his shoulders showed that he would not be deterred from discovering the entire story.
“Later,” Laev said and ended the scry.
Camellia opened her eyes, put her free hand to her head, and moaned, then her gaze fastened on Laev. She sighed, frowned. “I thought I heard . . . How is Senchal?” she asked. Again she touched her head. “It hurts to project telepathically.”
Laev could have just relied on Winterberry’s report, but instead sent a tendril of a thought toward Senchal, who was now linked to him through Camellia. “Well enough.” Laev shrugged. “Not at the HealingHall anymore. I think he’s back home.”
“And . . .” She licked her lips. “And my father?”
Gently, Laev said, “You know he’s in Death Grove.”
To his surprise a tear slid down her cheek. Laev moved from the chair to sit on the bed next to her.
“I didn’t love him. I didn’t even like him,” she said.
He was MEAN, good riddance, Mica said.
“Yes, but I wish it would have been different.”
You are softheaded from lack of blood. Mica said what Laev hesitated to put into words. Camellia was not her usual self if she spared an iota of pity for her father.
The calico cat circled the area near Camellia’s feet and curled up.
“Your father’s gone onto the wheel of stars,” Laev said. He looked into her eyes, nearly silver with the gleam of wetness, and saw his memory of the wheel reflected in her eyes. They’d shared that.
“He wasn’t there to meet me or walk with me to the wheel,” she said. “Only you were there in the soft dark.”
Laev hugged her. “Yes.”
One side of her mouth turned down. “I wouldn’t have wanted him to be there anyway.”
Mica said, I hope he comes back as a mouse. The claws in one forepaw flexed.
“I’m not sure it works that way,” Camellia said on a quiet breath and wiggled a little in Laev’s grasp, so he straightened the pillow under her, smoothed the bedclothes. Her lashes half covered her eyes. But their gazes met. And he knew they contemplated the fate of her father—not one, he, Laev, would care to experience, that was for sure.
At that moment Brazos teleported in, looking bushy from his hair standing on end. His eyes were wild. I found him. Found the bad man. Let’s go chomp him!
The scent of night, of prey, swirled in the room. Laev’s pulse surged, picked up a beat. He rolled his shoulders, shook out his limbs, became aware again of the leather on his body . . . felt fine. And the holsters with pistols on his thighs felt excellent.
“You can’t just hunt him down!” Camellia protested.
“He won’t ever hurt you again,” Laev said.
Thirty-two
Camellia lay there in his bed, in his home where she belonged. She appeared unusually frail, her eyes large in her pale face, lines of strain in her forehead, around her mouth. Oh, he wanted to kill.
He grinned, knowing he showed teeth. “Let’s do this thing right, then. Scry panel on.” It flickered to life. He strode over to fill the screen. “Contact GrandLady Kelp and the Guildhall.”
“Guildhall, here,” said a sharp-nosed clerk. He bowed. “GreatLord T’Hawthorn.”
Laev nodded. “Stand by.”
A few seconds more passed before a middle-aged woman’s face appeared. She was dressed in bedclothes. He didn’t care. “I, Huathe Laev T’Hawthorn, cry feud on you, the Kelps, for attempted murder of my HeartMate.”
“Wha—?”
“Prepare your warriors.”
“Wha—?”
“Cut scry.”
“Laev—” Camellia protested.
His grin widened. He pulled his blazer pistols from his holsters, spun them in his hands. “There, nice and tidy.” He slanted a wolfish look at her. “Following tradition, here. The feud has begun.”
She struggled upward and he placed his blazers on a table, was there with her, his arm under her back—she felt so small and fragile for the first time since their acquaintance—and he translocated pillows to prop behind her.
Mica was dozing near her feet and Laev poked her. “Go get Tiana Mugwort and Glyssa Licorice and bring them here.”
Opening a bleary eye, Mica said, I am helping My FamWoman by staying with her.
“All right,” he said aloud, then snapped, “Brazos, bring Tiana Mugwort and Glyssa Licorice here to watch my lady.”
“Yesss!” Brazos grinned and his was full of teeth, too. He vanished.
Laev kissed Camellia’s forehead. “You wait here.” He checked his blazers. With the excess of adrenaline energy, the anticipation of the hunt to come, he charged them fully. Though he yearned to dial the power up to max force, he set them to medium stun.
“You can’t—”
His jaw clenched as he looked at her. “Feam Kelp tried to kill you. Nothing will stop me.”
“The other Kelps—”
Laev waved. “The women will be fine unless they get in my way. They’re only stupid.”
“What!”
“They didn’t notice their brother, their cuz was murdering?”
“Maybe they couldn’t do anything to stop him.”
And Laev knew she was thinking of her father and uncle. “Not the same,” he said, feeling his face harden. “You tried. You filed complaints. You let others know they were dangerous. Cave of the Dark Goddess, the primary priest and priestess of the Lord and Lady knew your kin were . . . not good men. The Kelps didn’t know their relative was bad.”
“Maybe they’re just gentler than we are.”
“Had it easier?” Laev snorted, settled the pistols in his holsters. “Maybe they just didn’t want to see what was there.”
“Maybe he hid it.”
Laev made a chopping motion. “Enough. Now he’ll pay. They’ll pay.”
“Don’t kill him.”
He gave her a cool stare. “I’ll do what needs to be done.”
“For your own sake, don’t kill him.” A pulse of love came from her to him, and he knew that cost her energy, and that she had so little, had come so close to death, made the red mist rising in his mind seethe.
There was the soft sound of air being dislocated, and Laev went to the door between the sitting room and his bedroom. Tiana and Glyssa appeared on the teleportation pad. They both wore identical ritual tunic and trous in shades of blue. Laev figured that Camellia might have one, too. The simple thought grounded him, erased some of the anger. Glyssa’s red orange hair seemed as wild as Brazos’s.
The cat was prancing around the room, waving his tail. I found them. I brought them. They can stay with FamWoman while we go. Hunt. Kill.
“—and that’s what happened,” Tiana said on a rush of breath.
The women moved to the bed and Camellia.
Glyssa ordered a brighter light and Camellia winced. “Sorry, Cammi. You’re sure she’s all right?” choked Glyssa.
“Yes, both mother and Artemisia Healed her wounds.” Tiana frowned. “She looks a little wan. Loss of blood, perhaps.”
We will go. Hunt and kill! Brazos chanted, walking across Laev’s feet.
Tiana glanced at Laev. Flinched. He didn’t care.
“Perhaps we should take her to Primary HealingHall. Just in case,” the priestess offered weakly.
“Residence?” Laev asked.
“Yes, Laev.”
“Request T’Heather come here.”
“Contacting T’Heather Residence. Done.”
“Thank you.” Laev considered whether to take a sword or long knife with the pistols. Decided that he was better off with just blazers. He knew he was also better than Kelp in hand-to-hand combat.
“What is going on here?” demanded the retired FirstLevel Healer of Celta.
Laev spared him a glance. “My HeartMate’s been wounded.” He bowed to the man his FatherSire’s age. “I would greatly appreciate if you would examine her.”
“My mother and sister are good Healers!” Tiana said.
“I’ll just take a look,” the Healer, who appeared more like a farmer, soothed. But T’Heather’s glance nailed Laev. “Shouldn’t be dressed for battle, young Huathe.”
“The Kelps have called on their allies,” the Residence said. “They have warned Feam.”
Laev swore.
“Promise you won’t kill him!” Camellia said, but she groaned as T’Heather lifted her.
“You’re in good hands,” Laev said. “I’ll be back soon.”
I know where he is. He will not escape us, Brazos said. We will go and hunt and kill!
T’Heather sent a fulminating glance at the cat, then switched it to Laev. “Bad as the Hollys.”
Laev just grinned again, opened his arms wide for Brazos to jump into, and teleported with him.
They arrived on a quiet street between empty warehouses. Since there was no slap of water against piers, no scent of the ocean, they were in northeastern Druida and not by the docks.
A caged spell-light illuminated a small area and he cursed it under his breath. It would ruin his night vision. Brazos jumped down and slunk to the shadows of the opposite building.
He was here. Let Me look. Do not move, you are too noisy.
Laev stood still, drew his pistols from the holsters. Better he take Feam down at a distance. He could control his anger that much, if the man was a shadow in front of him like a target. If Laev got his hands on the guy, anger, the remnants of fear, might push him too far. He strained his ears, heard nothing.
The leather on his body was beginning to cool as a breeze wrapped around him. He was all too aware that the spring night had slid back to winter instead of forward into summer. His chest was cold. Soon, soon he’d be active.
Heart Search Page 33