Chapter 5 #6
He rolled said eyes and headed into the guest room to use the shower there. I grabbed jeans, a sweater, and fresh knickers out of my spares drawer, caught the sweats Darby tossed me and left them on the bed for Mathi, then closed the door and headed for the shower in Lugh’s bedroom.
I was in the process of toweling off when there was a knock at the door. “Okay to come in?”
“Yep.”
Darby slipped inside and closed the door again. “Okay, I’ll—” She stopped abruptly, her gaze dropping to my wrist. “You’re wearing the bracelet.”
“I am.”
Her gaze widened. “Does that mean...?”
“It means I went onto the plane—which apparently is a real place and not a dreaming realm, as such—and talked to him.”
“Just talked? Are you insane?” She stopped in front of me and raised the back of her hand to my forehead. “No temperature...”
I laughed and knocked her hand away. “You know well enough why I only talked to the man.”
“Because you’re afraid,” she said with a nod.
“Thing is, you and I both know the time to be worrying about heartache has long passed. The term ‘falling hard and fast’ is rather apt when it comes to your relationship with Cynwrig. Sadly, that does leave poor Eljin out in the cold emotionally, at least for the time being, anyway.”
“That’s presuming poor Eljin isn’t playing some game of his own,” I said darkly.
Her eyebrows rose. “Really? Do tell.”
I waved the comment away. “Later, if there is something to tell. It might be nothing more than my hormones determinedly fixating on the totally unsuitable man in my life rather than the logically better option.”
“Love is never logical.”
“It can’t be love. I barely even know the man.”
“Time has very little to do with emotions, and besides, sometimes you just got to take a leap of faith.”
“You’re saying that to someone who has a very bad record when it comes to picking suitable lovers.”
My voice was dry, and she laughed. “Well, yes, but let’s be honest here—aside from the whole royalty never marrying commoners issue, Cynwrig is the most suitable man you’ve ever had a relationship with, and you two are very obviously in sync both physically and spiritually.”
“Because his presence was thrown into the game by the opposing force to distract me.”
“That doesn’t alter anything I’ve said about you and him.” She pressed her fingers against my temples, and her magic rose, a warm caress of energy that swept my length, checking for any other injuries, before returning to buzz around my scraped cheek. “But go on, what did you talk to him about?”
“I asked the man what his plans were and where he saw the relationship going.”
“I bet the one thing he didn’t do was answer that question.”
“Got it in one.” I paused. “He did say he’d never intentionally break my heart and that he would never marry anyone unless he was in love. He also said he’d rather walk away from the throne than be told who he could take as a wife.”
Her eyebrows rose sharply. “Now that is an interesting comment.”
The heat of her magic increased, its warmth centering around the wounds, making my skin tingle and twitch uncomfortably as she worked.
“And you had best explain the emphasis you placed on ‘that.’”
“Beth, I saw his face when he brought you to the hospital after he and Mathi rescued you. The man cares, and deeply.”
“Caring isn’t love. Caring doesn’t mean he will ever marry me. He can’t. His people will never accept it.”
“Perhaps he never plans to marry and simply wants to play around with you for the rest of his life.”
“That is hardly fair to me. Besides, he has a duty to produce heirs.”
She released me, stepped back, and shoved her hands on her hips. “Well, whatever that man intends, it’s pretty clear you have two options—and you’re already well aware of both.”
I gave her a twisted smile. “Yeah, which is why I’m giving you advance warning to stock the pantry with all the usual items required for the breakup wake.”
She laughed. “Anything else? Because I’ve got the decidedly big impression that there is something else worrying you.”
I hesitated. “You can’t tell anyone what I’m about to reveal—especially not Lugh.”
Alarm flitted through her expression, and she touched my arm, her grip tight. “What the fuck has happened? What’s wrong?”
I took a deeper breath and said, “I had that dream again.”
I’m not sure why I said that rather than tell her about my father’s proclamation, but it wasn’t really a lie given I had dreamed of that knife last night. Only difference now was, I knew the truth of who it was.
She frowned. “Which dream? You have enough of them.”
“The one about a red-haired woman on a sacrifice table and a knife flashing down. It wasn’t a stranger. It was me, Darby. I saw my death.”
Her grip on my arm tightened. “Prophetic dreams are visions of a future not yet set in stone. What you saw may not come to pass.”
“That’s not the worst of it.”
“How the fuck can death not be the worst of it?”
“There’s a countdown. Nine months.”
“Well, we’ll just make damn sure you get to ten months, and kick that fucking dream back to the hell it came from.”
The determined outrage in her voice made me smile. “I like this plan. But, on the off chance it does come true, is it possible to revive someone who has been stabbed through the heart?”
“Anything is possible. It just depends on the time between death and healing. A heart is easy enough, but not even the best healer on this planet can revive a brain deprived of oxygen for too long. Not without dire consequences.”
“But there are drugs that can help extend brain survival, aren’t there?”
“Yes but—”
“Can you research it? It needs to be something I can use if I’m restrained. Something that is fast acting.”
She hesitated. “I think we need to talk to Lugh and Mathi about—”
“I will,” I cut in. “Once we’ve explored all the options. As you said, it’s a dream, not a certainty, and I don’t want to worry them just yet.”
“You should at least tell them about the game being over in nine months, even if you don’t go into the whole death thing.”
“That I can do.” And it did make sense not to keep them completely in the dark.
“Tonight?”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Tonight.”
“Then, on the proviso we tell them the full truth once we have the answer, I shall start researching. In the meantime, you need to start using a tracer. Extending the timeframe of life between body and brain death will be useless if we have no means of finding you quickly.”
“Tracers have range limits.”
“Magical tracers don’t; given this latest dream, I think it’s way past time you got one. Promise me you will, or I’ll ask Mathi to get you one.”
Another eye roll. “Please don’t. Cynwrig’s already demanded he protect me; I don’t need you adding more weight onto his shoulders.”
“Cynwrig did that, huh?”
“Yes, but I’m not reading all that much into it, and neither should you.”
“Way too late for that, my friend.” She paused. “Even if you don’t want to mention this dream to your brother or Mathi, you need to tell Cynwrig about it. He was the one who found and rescued you from your aunt. He’s the likeliest to find you with or without aid of a tracer.”
I wrinkled my nose. “What if he decides to end our relationship there and then? It might ultimately be the sensible thing for us both, but I’m not sure my hormones would be pleased.”
Her eyebrows rose. “These would be the same hormones that didn’t jump that man’s bones when they had the chance?”
“The hormones wanted to,” I replied glumly. “But fear and common sense held them hostage.”
She laughed. “Dark elves are renowned for hanging on to relationships until they’re good and ready to leave, and that man is far from finished with you yet. However, knowing about the dream might mean he’ll keep a more vigilant eye on you.”
“He can’t.”
“Physically, no. But he used the song of your weight on the earth to find you, meaning he’s more than capable of keeping track of your movements if he wishes.”
Which was both an unsettling yet somehow deliciously erotic thought.
My hormones really did need to be bitch-slapped. Or maybe it was fear and sense that did.
“You two all right in there?” came Lugh’s question. “The food is getting cold out here.”
“Coming right out,” Darby shouted back, then opened the door and waved me through ahead of her.
Lugh scanned my face and smiled. “Now that looks much better.”
“But not as good as Mathi does in powder blue,” Darby said behind me. “It really does match his lovely eyes.”
He rolled said eyes once again. “Ladies, can we focus here? The table has been set and the food is going to waste.”
I laughed. “With Lugh around, there is no such thing as food wastage.”
“That is certainly true.” Darby’s grin was wide as she walked to the far side of the table and sat down beside my brother. “The man has the appetite of a bear, be it—”
“There will be no discussion about any other kind of appetite,” he cut in dryly. “Not at the table while we’re eating.”
She chuckled but didn’t finish her sentence.
Mathi pulled out my chair, then sat beside me, and conversation rolled easily over dinner.
Once we’d finished and the dishes had been stacked in the dishwasher, I made tea and coffee while Darby served up dessert—a simple chocolate cake I knew from past eating experience was absolutely divine.
As we sat back down, Lugh said, “I managed to get hold of Frank today.”
“And who might Frank be?” Mathi asked.
“One of the archeologists pictured in that article Treasa gave me about the dig in Portugal,” I replied, and returned my gaze to my brother. “What did he say?”
“That it was a bitch of a dig, and he wished he’d never gone.”
I grinned. “Meaning he thinks it was cursed, as the article suggested?”
“Not cursed so much as just badly run.” Lugh shrugged. “The authorities were also less than helpful when thieves hit the dig.”
“Did they take much?”
“Yes, but he didn’t go into detail. He did, however, remember the names of those involved.”
There was something in the way he said that that had the small hairs on the back of my neck rising. “And?”
He retrieved a folded piece of paper from his pocket and spread it out on the table. It was the article I’d sent him, newly printed.
“This man here,” he said, tapping the grainy image of a tall, middle-aged man with darkish hair and a rakish smile, “is none other than Eljin Lavigne.”