“Sure, why not?”
Neale grinned wickedly as she placed a glass in front of me, poured a clear alcohol in, then topped it off with tonic water and a slice of lemon.
“You’re a G&T girl. Go on, tell me I’m right.”
G&T? I guessed the T was for tonic, but what was the G? Gin? I’d never had gin before. I picked up the glass and took a sip. It was delicious – refreshing and zesty, with a bit of a kick. No bitterness whatsoever.
“I’m a G&T girl, and I didn’t even know it.” I grinned back at her. “Thanks.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Aye, I’m a magician. I ken it. Go an’ join your fellas and I’ll bring over some scran for you all.”
I had no idea what scran was, but if it was as good as this drink, I’d be first in line. I was starting to feel a lot better about this Neale. I slid into a seat at the end of the corner booth next to Arthur. The guys raised their glasses with a resounding “cheers,” which was clearly something you said in England, and we clinked.
The booth was far enough away from other diners and drinkers we could hear each other talk. And talk we did. Corbin and Arthur regaled me with tales of the castle’s history – famous knights and bloody battles and raunchy nobles. Flynn broke in with ridiculous remarks, every word out of his mouth making me burst out laughing, even as the others groaned. Rowan remained mostly silent, his kind eyes studying mine. I noticed that when he spoke up to insult Flynn, or recall a date that Corbin forgot, the others immediately ceased speaking to listen.
Neale dumped huge plates of meat pies (I know, WTF, right? But they were delicious), french fries (or “chips”, according to the guys) and mushy peas (not so delicious – Corbin finished off mine). If this was English food, I could live with it.
According to Corbin, the Briarwood lord who added the Tudor wing was a royalist, and hid King Charles in a secret room in the library for a couple of months. “I’ll show you the room later, if you like,” he said, shooting me that heart-melting smile of his.
“I’d like that very much,” I said.
By the time dessert came (Banoffee pie – another first for me, but definitely not the last), my nerves disappeared. It was impossible to feel like the frumpy science geek around these guys, with Flynn squeezing my hand and Arthur’s thigh brushing against mine, and Corbin smiling and Rowan’s soulful eyes never leaving mine. How the hell was I going to survive living with these guys without making a fool of myself?
The history lesson stopped around the Victorian period, and they completely avoided mentioning my mother or how they themselves ended up in the house. Instead, Arthur ordered another round (apparently, people in England brought one drink for everyone in turns) and we debated the merits of various films and TV shows. I hadn’t seen a lot of the BBC shows, and anything with violence or premarital sex or magic or science fiction was banned from our house, but Flynn’s dramatic reenactments more than made up for my lack of knowledge.
More rounds came, and more food. I had no idea how long we stayed at the pub, but after awhile, I missed snatches of conversation as I faded in and out of sleep. The jet lag was catching up at last. After my head nodded against his shoulder, Corbin said, “I think it’s time we got her home.”
The guys stood up, and with a wave to Neale and a promise to return, I followed them out the door. Outside, I was surprised to see it was dusk already, and the cheery gingerbread houses were now shrouded in shadow. The temperature had dropped, and a crisp, balmy breeze kissed my skin. I rubbed my bare arms, wishing I’d thought to bring a sweater.
“Here,” Arthur shrugged off his coat.
“No, that’s okay. It’s not far to walk—” But Arthur was already fitting the coat around my shoulders. It was a long black wool trench, the shoulders sticking out like a tent from my body, and my hands disappearing into the sleeves. I wrapped it around and breathed in Arthur’s scent – smoky and sooty, like a bonfire. As he drew his hands away, I noticed dark scars crisscrossing his lower arms around his elbows. They ran around his arm. I wondered what had caused them, but it felt wrong to ask. Arthur noticed my gaze and yanked his arm back.
As we walked away from the shops and out along the country lane toward Briarwood, dusk darkened into night, and the sky opened up above us, the Milky Way splattered across our heads in vibrant steaks. It was completely different from Arizona, with new constellations visible and others obscured. I stopped in my tracks, craning my neck up for a better look.
Someone crashed into me, sending us both toppling into the grass. “Oops, sorry.” I turned to help him up. It was Rowan. He accepted my hand, his warm skin sending a tingle up my arm. One of his dreadlocks flicked across my shoulder.
“What were you looking at?” he asked, flipping his dreads over his shoulder.
“Saturn,” I replied, pointing out the orb of the biggest planet. “It’s so clear tonight that we can see the stripes of her clouds with the naked eye. And there’s Venus, and Mars. And there’s Virgo – that’s my star sign.”
“You believe in astrology?”
I shook my head. “Absolutely not. Even if the alignment of the stars could somehow predict your personality, which is pretty damn unscientific, it wouldn’t work because modern astrology doesn’t take precession into account.”
“Precession?”
“Yeah, it’s the wobble of the earth’s axis.”
“The earth wobbles?”
“It does, actually. It’s caused by the gravitational attraction of the moon on the equatorial bulge.
Because of it, the positions of the stars in the sky change incrementally every year. Thousands of years of incremental changes have moved the intersection point of the celestial equator and ecliptic – that’s the path of the sun – by 36 degrees, which means that when a person is born during the recognized period of time for Aquarius, the sun wasn’t actually in that constellation when they were born. It’s more likely to be Pisces or Ophiuchus—”
“I’ve never heard of Ophiuchus before.”
“It’s actually the thirteenth star sign, although not many people use—” I didn’t get a chance to explain because a man darted out of the shadows and blocked our path.
“Hello,” he said, extending a hand out in front of him, palm facing us. His voice was obscured by a black hood, but it was deep and rich, almost singsong. A black coat – not unlike the one I was wearing – flapped around his tall, muscular frame. From the darkness of his hood, the moonlight flickered off two prisms of emerald light, eyes that reminded me of something, but I couldn’t think what.
I didn’t think to be scared. I assumed it was some other neighbor out for a walk, but Rowan’s body stiffened, his soft face tightening. Tension rose in the air around us, but nothing like the sexual heat I’d felt in the secret kitchen passage with Corbin and Flynn.
Rowan was poised for a fight.
His hand tightened around my arm. “Get behind me,” he whispered.
“Huh?”
I heard a shout up ahead as the other guys realized we had a visitor. The grass rustled as they ran back toward us. “Rowan, keep her safe!” Corbin yelled.
“What’s going on?” A flicker of fear licked my throat. My eyes fixed on the man standing in the grass. He kept his hand held in front of him, curling a finger toward himself.
“Good evening, Maeve,” the man said, his crystal eyes blazing. “If you come with me now, I won’t harm your friends.”
A lump of fear rose in my throat. “Who are you? How do you know my name?”
The man raised his hand and lifted off the hood. I gasped as I recognized that black hair tinged with gold and the pale, porcelain skin. The narrowed eyes of a predator met my gaze. It was the twat who’d harassed Kelly and I at the Coopersville fair, the one who had waved and smiled at me across the fairway as I’d watched my parents burn.
The force of that realization hit me so hard I physically jolted. I thought that guy had just been some random jerk, but the fact that he was here,
jumping me in this field… this wasn’t random.
He was stalking me.
But why? Who was I apart from a twice-orphaned science geek?
“What do you want from me?” I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady, free of the fear that hurtled through my veins. “Why are you following me?”
“Now, if I told you that, that would take all the fun away.” The guy drew his hand across his face in a weird gesture that managed to appear threatening. “And I can tell you’d be a lot of fun, Maeve Moore.”
“That’s not my name,” I lied, my heart thudding in my chest. How does he know that? “Just tell me what you want or let us pass.”
“No can do, I’m afraid.” The guy snapped his fingers. The grass behind him rustled, and two more men rose out of the long grass, as if they were emerging from within the earth itself. Both wore identical long black coats and equally sinister smiles.
How come none of us noticed them lying there before? My heart pounded, and I shrunk closer to Rowan. Which was kind of ridiculous. With his wiry frame and quiet nature, I’d probably be the one protecting him.
Let’s pray it doesn’t come to that.
Rowan’s fingers looped in mine and he shoved something into my hand, wrapping my fingers around it. It felt like a twig. “Keep hold of that,” he whispered. “Don’t let it go, no matter what happens. Don’t let him see it.”
I nodded, keeping my eyes locked on the twat, who took a step toward me, his sinister grin growing wider.
I caught another flash of black in the grass. My heart hammered against my chest. Was that another one? But no. Arthur stalked toward us, his face set in a determined scowl. Corbin and Flynn were right behind him. The three assailants advanced toward Rowan and I, their hands raised, seemingly unperturbed by the other guys approaching them from behind.
Arthur crept forward, his eyes narrowed in concentration. He raised an arm behind his head. The moonlight glinted off a narrow blade.
Shit. As soon as I saw that blade, my whole body stiffened. None of our assailants had pulled out any weapons. They hadn’t actually touched us at all. Arthur can’t really hurt that guy. He hasn’t done anything—
I screamed as Arthur lunged. I braced myself for the blade piercing the man’s flesh, for blood and pain, but the guy whipped around and ducked the blow, moving impossibly fast – a black smudge against the inky night. Arthur swung his arm through, yelling something in a language I didn’t recognize. The man’s hand clamped down on Arthur’s wrist, stopping Arthur’s blow an inch from his face as if it were nothing. Arthur’s face twisted in pain as the guy yanked his arm around, throwing him off balance and tossing the knife into the grass.
“Arthur!” I yelled, stepping forward to help him. Rowan’s hand clamped around my wrist, pulling me back.
“Stay with me,” he said. “You can’t fight them.”
“Can you take the heat, fire-wielder?” The man rasped, wrapping his arms around Arthur so that his forearm pressed against Arthur’s throat. Arthur’s face contorted, and he let out a strangled bellow. He grabbed the guy’s arm and for a moment, a bright orange light flared, as though someone had struck a match, but then it was gone and Arthur’s body went limp, his eyes rolling back in his head.
No. I’m not watching a guy die in front of me.
I jerked my arm from Rowan’s and rushed forward. “Let go of him!”
“Maeve, no!” Rowan tried to grab for my hand again, but I shrugged him away. I reached the guy holding Arthur just as Corbin leapt on his back. I reached in to help him pry the guy’s arm from Arthur’s neck. My fingers grazed the guy’s skin and a sickening tingle shot up my arm, like a jolt of medicine that made me want to retch. Someone’s hands wrapped around my waist and lifted me away.
“He’s not worthy of you, Princess,” that twat hissed in my ear, his breath hot and ugly on my skin.
“Put me down!” I yelled, kicking my legs back. The balls of my ankles smashed against the twat’s shins, but he gave no sign that he even felt it.
“She’s a feisty one,” he sneered, throwing me to the ground. I threw out my hands, but my chest hit the earth first, driving the wind out of me. I gasped for air, my legs curling up against my stomach.
Rowan’s face appeared in front of me, his eyes wide with worry. “Maeve, are you—”
But he didn’t even get to finish his sentence. The twat moved in a blur, faster than my eye could follow. In a moment, he’d flung out an arm, catching Rowan across the chest. Rowan sailed through the air and landed with a thud in the grass some thirty feet away.
That… that’s not possible.
I coughed, my lungs burning. I tried to push myself up with my legs, but they wouldn’t cooperate. The twat grabbed me and yanked me to my feet, crushing my chest against his so his face was inches from mine. Up close, his perfect skin looked wrong, like the skin of an android stretched over a heartless machine beneath.
“Let go of me!” I tried to wrench myself out of his grasp, but his grip was like iron.
“Look at you,” he rasped. “You’re so juicy, full of all that human blood and ancient magic. I just want to eat you right up.”
He stuck out his tongue, and ran it along my cheek, its rough surface scratching my skin. Gross gross gross. I tried to jerk away, but my limbs wouldn’t move. My whole body locked up, everything frozen in place.
What’s happening to me? I tried to cry out, but my tongue wouldn’t move, either.
“Delicious.” With a final slurp, the twat drew away, a self-satisfied grin spreading over his face. His cruel eyes burned into mine. My skin tingled along his saliva trail.
“Don’t you touch her,” Rowan’s face appeared beside me, his features hard. He placed a hand on my shoulder, and suddenly, I could move again. I kicked at the twat’s legs, trying to trip him, but my blows only made him laugh.
“She is ours to touch as we please, witch.” The twat spat at Rowan, shoving him away. The twat raised his hand, pointing his palm at Rowan. As I watched in horror, his fingers elongated, the tips curling over into long claws, curled over like the talons of a bird.
But how… this can’t be happening. I’m imagining it. It’s the jet lag playing tricks with my mind.
It was no trick. The claws reached closer to Rowan’s face, sharp points glinting in the moonlight. They were real all right, but how the hell did they get on the end of this guy’s fingers?
The twat tilted his head to the side, and laughed cruelly. “Such pretty eyes you have, witch. I think I’ll take them.”
No. Fuck no. I pushed all of my fear into my arm. My skin grew hot, and there was this weird swelling in my chest, like I’d just started running up a hill and the oxygen was hitting my lungs. I expected him to catch my punch, but somehow, I slipped under him, and my fist connected with his jaw.
The punch was useless, barely grazing his skin. And yet as soon as it connected the twat’s face contorted with pain. His whole body sagged and shuddered.
Okay, so maybe I just hit his Achilles’ heel. Now was my chance, without his claw-hands dangling an inch from Rowan’s eyes. I kicked out a leg. The shot was too low to get him in the nuts as I’d intended, but I managed to slam my foot into the side of the twat’s knee.
His face registered surprise for a moment, and then it twisted with pain as he dropped his hands to clasp his knee. Unfortunately, he seemed to have forgotten that he’d turned his hand into razor-sharp claws. What an idiot. He sliced open his trousers and made a real mess of his knee.
I backed away as the guy fell onto his good knee. Rowan knelt down as well, scooping up a handful of loose dirt from the edge of the trampled path. He pressed the dirt clot to the guy’s head, and muttered something in a foreign language.
The twat moaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Nice try,” he managed to croak out. “But your power won’t hold me for long, earth witch.”
“It doesn’t have to,” Rowan growled, his kind voice thick with venom. He kept his
hand pressed against the twat’s face. Underneath, the guy’s skin turned brown and leathery, bits of it flaking off and blowing away in the breeze.
I don’t know what made me do it, but I just knew. My chest tightened, and I glanced down at my hand that had punched the twat. Inside my fist was the tiny twig Rowan had given me. I knelt down and pressed my hand over top of Rowan’s, holding the twig against the twat’s face. He screamed, but he couldn’t wriggle away.
I focused my mind on that twig and on the dirt clot in Rowan’s hand, on the two touching – two parts of the earth coming together. Somehow – and I have no idea why this even occurred to me – I knew it was important that I thought about that twig and the dirt and nothing else.
Fear and energy and tingles of heat and light swirled through my body. Bile touched the back of my tongue. But I kept my focus.
The twat’s face twisted and sagged. His eyes flashed with anger, and then they rolled back in his head. His body stiffened. He toppled backward, slamming against the ground. His head bounced. He didn’t get up again.
I sucked in a breath. What just happened?
Rowan helped me to my feet.
“What did we do?” I cried.
“No time for that,” Rowan dragged me toward the others. “Come on!”
I stumbled across the field after him, my breath ragged and my lungs screaming. Arthur, Corbin, and Flynn fought the other two guys – the five of them climbing over each other in a whirlwind of flailing limbs. I saw the flash of a white blade under the moonlight and Corbin cried out.
Corbin rolled out of the fray. One of the guys leapt on top of him, sending him sprawling to the ground. Corbin managed to roll over beneath the guy, and he hooked his hand under his shirt and pulled out some kind of necklace which he shoved in the guy’s face.
He screamed as the metal necklace touched his skin, then lashed out at Corbin with the same clawed fingers. Corbin wrenched his head to the side as the guy raked his claws through thin air.
Rowan ran over and grabbed the guy around the neck, trying to pull him off Corbin. I stood frozen, unable to move. All I could do was watch the carnage around me.
The Castle of Earth and Embers (Briarwood Reverse Harem Book 1) Page 7