Iron Master

by Jennifer Ashley

  When he finished Peigi climbed in and settled on the back bench seat and Reid hoisted himself up beside her. His instinct was to slide close to her where he could touch her, but he suppressed this and made sure there was a foot of space between them. No need to tempt fate.

  “Sweet,” Dimitri said as he leapt into the driver’s seat and slammed the door. “Road trip!”

  “We always take road trips.” Jaycee had already closed her door and buckled up. “It’s the only way we can get anywhere.”

  “Fair point.” Dimitri revved the engine. “But I s-still like to yell it.”

  “I know you do, sweetie.”

  Dimitri winked at Peigi through the mirror. “She loves me.”

  Peigi smiled back as Dimitri rolled the truck down the rise and to the dirt road they’d driven in on. Shifters waved as they passed, and Kendrick’s cubs ran after the truck, shrieking an ear-piercing farewell.

  Reid sensed Peigi’s excitement as Dimitri steered them onto the paved road and stepped on the gas. She might not be sanguine about the trip to New Orleans, but she gazed around with eager eyes, drinking everything in.

  “It’s nice to get out,” she said when she saw Reid watching her.

  “There’s a whole lotta n-nothing out here,” Dimitri said. “But I know what you mean. Makes me want to howl like the crazy wolf I am.”

  Jaycee covered her ears. “Please don’t.”

  Dimitri shook his head. “Man, it’s hell living with a Feline. So delicate.”

  “Elegant,” Jaycee countered, lowering her hands. “Unlike mangy Lupines.”

  “Hey, I’ve never had mange in my life. You screech when you get a tangle in your hair. She’s constantly licking her paws too,” he informed the back seat. “Middle of the night, I wake up to a leopard on the end of our bed. Lick, lick, lick. I always think we have a leak somewhere.”

  “I’m trying to drown out your snoring,” Jaycee said in a honeyed voice. “Anyway, cats are nocturnal. We nap during the day and guard at night. Lupines sleep all the time.”

  Peigi burst out laughing. She had a musical laugh, as beautiful as the rest of her.

  “I have to side with Dimitri on the last thing,” she said. “Bears like to sleep too.”

  And yet, when any of the cubs so much as twitched, Peigi was right there, soothing them, reassuring them, loving them. She had a large heart that hadn’t been destroyed by that asshole, no matter how much he’d tried to break her.

  Stuart had watched Peigi slowly heal in the last couple of years, seen the light return to her eyes. She’d kept from despair by taking care of the cubs, determined not to abandon them. He’d witnessed her move from barely standing upright to eagerly rising in the morning, ready to face another day. Goddess bless the cubs for that.

  As she laughed at Dimitri and Jaycee and their banter, he enjoyed the beauty of her, and rejoiced that she’d returned to life.

  Peigi dozed off and on as the sun sank and Dimitri drove into the night. It was nice to relax, close her eyes, leave the responsibility to someone else. She loved the cubs and enjoyed being with them, but she rarely had any alone time. One of the cubs always had some sort of drama going on—there was no such thing as all of them quiet and peaceful at once.

  Stuart gazed out of the window as though he could see into the blank darkness of the night. He’d said little since they’d pulled away from Kendrick’s ranch, and Peigi sensed the tension in him.

  He wanted answers. He chafed to dive back into Faerie and find out what was going on—that fact screamed itself to Peigi’s Shifter senses.

  Stuart sat too far away from her. Peigi felt his warmth through the space between them, but she craved his touch.

  Jaycee, cross-legged on her seat, scanned through radio stations. Occasionally, one would come through clearly, and she’d lean back, humming or singing along. Dimitri would join in, the two of them easy with each other, happy.

  Peigi surreptitiously slid closer to Stuart. He didn’t seem to register this until her thigh bumped his.

  Instantly Stuart turned his head and looked at her, his dark gaze cutting through the night.

  His eyes were like pieces of midnight, deep with secrets. Peigi had learned a little how to read what was inside Stuart, but much of him remained enigmatic. Tonight his tension cut like a diamond.

  Peigi said nothing. She didn’t move her leg either. She daringly lifted her hand and closed it over his where it rested on his lap.

  Stuart’s chest rose sharply. Peigi longed to touch his face, cup it while she kissed his lips.

  She settled for squeezing his hand. Peigi expected him to withdraw, to move away and leave her full of restive need. Instead Stuart threaded his fingers through hers, thumb brushing fire across the top of her hand.

  Peigi’s heart sped as she scooted even closer to Stuart, and she boldly rested her head on his shoulder. She felt his abrupt intake of breath, and then the breath released slowly, as though Stuart instructed himself to remain still.

  Peigi closed her eyes. The truck moved with the road, music trickling through the cool air, and she drifted to comfortable slumber, Stuart warm against her.

  She jumped awake a long time later when the truck abruptly halted. Peigi snapped upright, ready for danger, but all was quiet, the radio off, dawn light seeping through the windows.

  “We made it, kids,” Dimitri announced.

  Peigi ran her hand through her mussed hair, feeling strangely empty, and realized Stuart was no longer at her side. He was already climbing out of the truck, springing down to the ground in front of a rambling and beautiful house.

  Rose vines, devoid of blossoms at the moment, climbed over trellises and up the walls and draped over the porch. The porch itself was wide and inviting, with seats and a porch swing for lazing on a summer afternoon. Even in the winter, it would be a nice place to lounge in the sunshine.

  Peigi had heard about this house. It was sentient, built on a ley line, for what purpose no one knew. Maybe the house hadn’t been sentient when built but had absorbed the magic streaming beneath it for so long it had become magical itself.

  “Hey there.” Dimitri approached the porch steps. “Remember us?”

  “Of course it remembers us.” Jaycee skipped up the steps, patted the porch railing fondly, and knocked on the solid front door. “Is Ben here?”

  “He hasn’t answered my calls,” Stuart said, his deep voice cutting over Jaycee’s. “Don’t see his motorcycle either.”

  Dimitri shrugged. “Ben comes and goes. As long as he left the refrigerator stocked …”

  The front door suddenly opened without sound. No frightening noises—the door simply swung inward as though the latch had been jarred loose.

  “It used to creak like a bad movie,” Dimitri said. “I guess it didn’t want to scare us today.”

  Peigi’s bear hackles rose as she sensed the house’s aura, but Jaycee tripped inside without fear, calling out a greeting. Dimitri growled and hurried after her—female Shifters were supposed to let males go into a new place first, checking it for danger. Peigi had the feeling Jaycee only followed that rule when it suited her.

  Peigi hung back, Stuart next to her. “Think it’s safe?” she murmured.

  “No.” Stuart regarded the house warily. “We know it likes Shifters and Ben, but what about dokk alfar?”

  “One way to find out.”

  “I like your courage,” Stuart told her. “We might get answers if nothing else.” Peigi started forward, but Stuart clasped her elbow, tugging her close. “I’m glad you’re with me,” he said softly.

  Peigi heated as his breath brushed her ear, her pulse banging sloppily. She fumbled for words in answer and came out with, “So I can protect you from the house?”

  Stuart chuckled, his laugh tickling inside her ear. “Partly.”

  He remained near, his lips parted as though he’d say more, then he closed his mouth, released her, and gestured them forward.

  “Males are suppose
d to go first,” Peigi said lightly.

  “Yes, so the males will be eaten first, and the wise females can run away.”

  “That’s the idea.”

  Stuart took her arm again. “How about we go in together?”

  “If the door is wide enough,” Peigi said. “Bears are big.”

  Stuart slid his dark gaze over her, taking his time. “I think you’re just right.”

  If he kept on like this, Peigi would never be able to stand up, let alone walk through the door. Her knees were watery, and she pressed closer to him so she could stay upright. “Let’s do this.”

  The front door remained open, welcoming. Or gaping like a mouth? Peigi drew a breath, exchanged a glance with Stuart, and then the two of them plunged through together.

  They fit just fine, the old-fashioned doorway made to admit ladies with giant skirts without tearing delicate fabric.

  Once inside, Stuart released her arm, to Peigi’s disappointment. She stepped away from him, pretending indifference, and took in the airy hall, the paneling and throw rugs, the slender-legged tables with silver knick-knacks. Elegant without being stuffy.

  Behind them the front door swung slowly shut, settling into place with a quiet click.

  “Not creepy or anything,” Stuart murmured.

  “You’re a dark Fae,” Peigi said, trying to hide her nervousness. “Some people’s definition of creepy.”

  “Some Shifters’ definition you mean.” Stuart moved past her and gazed up the massive staircase that wound through the center of the house. “Okay, and some hoch alfars’. We have a lot of enemies.”

  Peigi joined him. An iron chandelier hung down from the top of the house, fitting perfectly inside the curve of the staircase. “Well, you are scary on a dark night.”

  Stuart gave her a look of pretended dismay. “I hope I’m scary all the time. What happened to our friends?”

  “Up here,” Jaycee’s voice floated down to them. “Kitchen.”

  The kitchen was on the second floor—Jaycee had explained during the trip that the living quarters were upstairs, while the lower level of the house was kept in its eighteenth-century decor for tourists.

  “Ben takes the tourists through,” Jaycee had finished. “I bet that’s fun.”

  The mysterious Ben, who sometimes called himself Gil, had been alive for centuries and probably had known people from this house’s heyday. Peigi hadn’t answered, but reflected she’d love to take a tour of this house he conducted.

  There was no sign of Ben, however, as Peigi and Stuart ascended the stairs and made their way down the hall to the large sunny kitchen. Dimitri was digging through a pantry that, judging from the armloads of provisions he dragged out, was stocked enough to satisfy him.

  He moved to the counter and began breaking eggs into a bowl. Stuart watched him for about ten seconds before he waded in and started pancakes.

  “Let him,” Peigi said when Jaycee tried to protest that Peigi and Stuart were guests. “He’s Pancake Expert. Stuart doesn’t just make ordinary pancakes—he does lemon and ricotta cheese, or chocolate chip, or orange and spice, banana with walnuts …”

  Jaycee considered. “Okay. I’ll take one of each of those.”

  Dimitri went back to his eggs—Stuart stole a handful of them from the carton. Jaycee started on coffee and toast, making it clear she didn’t expect Peigi to do any of the work.

  Restless, Peigi decided to scope out the house. On this floor she found fairly modern rooms, not only this kitchen with the latest appliances but also a couple well-appointed bathrooms, with giant tubs for soaking off stress.

  Each bedroom held furniture from a different period of history—Peigi wasn’t familiar with all of them, but she could distinguish between the sleek forms of the Colonial years and the heavily carved, massive pieces from the Victorian age.

  She continued downstairs, running her hand lightly on the polished staircase railing. On the ground floor, the house was like a stage set, containing beautiful furniture, drapes, and paintings, waiting for the family of long-ago to receive callers, dine, or host a ball.

  The slave quarters had also been restored, Jaycee had told Peigi, another snapshot of history, but the darker side. Peigi walked out the back door—which opened itself for her—across a wide veranda, and down steps to the path that led to the line of outbuildings.

  The sun was rising, the clear sky flushing pink. The place was beautiful, serene. Peigi drew in a cleansing breath. She could get used to this.

  Or maybe not. She already missed the cubs’ constant noise, their energy. She should call Nell and see how they were getting on, or she could resist the urge and not wake them up too early. She had to remember there was a two-hour time difference between Louisiana and Nevada—Nell wouldn’t thank her for calling while it was still dark.

  Peigi paused beside a stumpy, gnarled tree devoid of leaves. An old one, she surmised, though still solid. It had a presence, anchoring one end of the path, probably why it hadn’t been cut down.

  She let out a sigh—she’d been keeping her frustration in check, but it boiled up inside her. She wished the dokk alfar had left Stuart the hell alone. She and Stuart could be waking up in their little house in Las Vegas, planning a day together, tearing their hair out trying to keep the six cubs whole and out of trouble.

  From what Stuart had explained, this Cian guy and probably all of Stuart’s people, needed his help. He was right to find a way to keep them safe from the high Fae, and Peigi agreed. On the other hand, she wanted Faerie to disappear forever and Stuart to stay with her and never leave.

  “I’m a selfish bitch,” she said out loud. “I know he needs to go, but damn it, I need him too. So do the cubs.”

  A ripple of wind stirred the short branches of the ancient tree. The sound was comforting, almost as though the tree exuded sympathy. But why not? This was a haunted house, why not a haunted tree to go with it?

  “I guess every soldier’s wife feels like this,” she confided to the tree. “She’s proud he runs off to fight for what he believes in and to help others stay alive, but at the same time, she wants to hold on to him and pray he isn’t taken from her.”

  Another rustle, and then the wind died, bringing silence.

  “And I’m talking to a tree.” Peigi rubbed her hair. “I am so sleep deprived. And seriously need caffeine.”

  She hurried up the path and into the house, exhaling in relief when she burst inside to the strong scent of coffee wafting down from upstairs.

  After a breakfast of three different kinds of pancakes, tasty omelets from Dimitri, a platter of toast courtesy of Jaycee, and several cups of rich coffee, Peigi felt much better. Shifters could put away food, so the pantry’s stores were depleted by the time they finished.

  Once they’d cleaned up the breakfast detritus, Dimitri led them downstairs to a small parlor and pointed to a wall. “Here is where the door was.”

  Peigi stared at the nicely paneled and papered wall, no doors in sight. A breeze rustled outside the open window, the rose vines creaking.

  Stuart ran his fingers over the wall where a door frame would have been. He leaned to the paneling and put his ear to it.

  “Hear anything?” Dimitri asked.

  “Just you.” Stuart closed his eyes, pressing his cheek to the paneling. He touched the wall with gentle but strong fingers.

  Peigi held her breath, watching Stuart absently stroke the paneling, all his concentration on what might lie behind it. She couldn’t stop herself imagining how she’d feel with Stuart’s strong fingers on her, she the subject of that intense attention.

  Another breeze drifted through, making her shiver.

  “Who opened the windows?” Peigi whispered. “It’s cold.”

  Dimitri and Jaycee started. From their expressions, they thought she’d opened them.

  Having a house do what it wanted could be inconvenient, Peigi decided, though she admitted the distraction had stopped her from gazing at Stuart and drooling. S
he moved to the long window and closed it, shutting out the wind. The gnarled tree was visible from this room, standing guard over the end of the path.

  Stuart opened his eyes and straightened up. “The house probably likes to open and close its own windows. Maybe it needs to breathe.”

  “You do like escalating the creep factor,” Peigi said. “Can you tell if there’s a door there? Or a gate, or whatever?”

  Stuart touched the paneling. “If there was a way through, it’s gone.”

  “It closed up and vanished after a Fae tried to get in and kill us,” Jaycee said. “Or maybe Lady Aisling shut it down. I don’t really know.”

  “We weren’t paying much attention at the time.” Dimitri slid his arm around Jaycee and slanted her a knowing look.

  “You had mating on your mind, yes.” Jaycee leaned into him. “All right, I admit, I was pretty far gone on mating frenzy at the time too.” Her smile held satisfaction and not one bit of embarrassment. “I wonder if Lady Aisling could help get Stuart through? If she closed the door, she might be able to open it. There’s an old sundial on the other side …”

  “Lady Aisling told you to summon her only in time of dire emergency, remember,” Dimitri said. “Would she consider this a dire emergency?”

  Stuart leaned on the paneling again, touching it with light fingers. “The Tuil Erdannan deemed the Shifter-Fae war a ten-minute distraction, like watching ants battle over a leaf. I doubt this Lady Aisling would lift a finger to keep the hoch alfar away from the dokk alfar. They never have before.” The grim note in his voice reminded Peigi that his clan had been wiped out by the high Fae, with no one charging in to help them.

  “Ben told us the Tuil Erdannan created the dokk alfar,” Jaycee said. “Or at least that was a rumor. Did they?”

  Stuart shrugged. “No idea. It’s not one of our creation stories. But we were first in Faerie, long before the hoch alfar appeared. That’s historic record.”

  “We need Ben’s take on this,” Jaycee said. “He’s been living in the house a while. I bet he’s figured out a lot of its secrets.”