8. Clash of Stone and Steel #2
Samhail slapped the sword aside and sent it flying out of Serise’s hand.
He kicked one leg out to knock her feet from under her, and she sprawled forward with a cry of surprise.
Samhail threw his arm out to summon back the sword he’d just knocked away, and it was in his hand a second later.
He rolled over and pointed the blade at the back of Serise’s own neck where she lay face down on the grass.
“Did no one teach you to respect your elders?” he asked her coldly.
He turned toward Surgeon who’d picked himself up off the ground and was advancing toward them.
Samhail threw out his hand and a percussive forcefield hit the other gargoyle, throwing him back again onto the ground.
Samhail got to his feet, still keeping the sword at Serise’s neck while he summoned his second sword back to his hand.
“What in the three hells is going on out here?” came a female voice.
Samhail’s head snapped to the manor house to see Cyra rushing toward them.
“Cyra, stay back!” he called to her. He wasn’t sure why his siblings were here, but he didn’t think he’d like the reason, and he didn’t want them anywhere near her.
Cyra ignored him and came to stand right next to him. “Samhail, put your swords away please.”
“You don’t understand,” Samhail said as he shunted her behind him. “These are-”
“Your brother and sister,” Cyra cut in. “I know.”
He turned and blinked at her. “What?”
Cyra smiled at him. “You just defeated my two new bodyguards.”
Samhail was so stunned he almost dropped his swords. Almost.
“Your what?” he asked incredulously.
Cyra sighed. “Let Serise up and come inside. I’ll explain everything.”
Samhail looked down at his sister. She hadn’t moved yet, and neither had Surgeon after he’d been knocked down again. Samhail grunted and pulled his wings back in before sheathing his swords. He didn’t wait around to greet his siblings but followed Cyra into the manor house.
They entered a spacious area that was set up much like a tavern, with a bar, tables, and chairs where patrons could presumably come to drink wine.
The furniture was all dark wood, but the walls were white, and ornate crown molding ran along the ceiling.
Three huge metal chandeliers hung from a beam in the center.
The floor was stone, but three intricately woven rugs covered most of it.
Samhail followed Cyra through the room, down a hallway, and into what he assumed was her office.
He paused before pulling the door shut behind him.
Part of him wanted to keep it open to avoid a repetition of the incident in the great room, but he also didn’t want anyone to overhear their conversation, especially not with his brother and sister around.
A large desk stood in front of floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the vineyard, but Cyra didn’t head for it.
Instead, she went to a plush leather couch on the side of the room and sat down at one end.
She motioned for Samhail to sit next to her, but he pulled a chair over from in front of her desk and sat across from her instead.
Cyra raised a brow at him. “To what do I owe your visit?” she asked when he didn’t say anything.
“Why are my siblings here?” he asked, ignoring the question.
Cyra sighed. “That’s why Bressen wanted to talk to you this afternoon. We would’ve mentioned them sooner, but you’ve been…aloof the last couple days.”
She looked at him questioningly, but he remained silent.
“Bressen decided,” she went on, emphasizing her husband’s name, “that I needed additional protection. He reached out to your father the other day. As I understand it, he wanted to ask him about helping us fight Sandrian and Magdalene, but while they were talking, he asked if any of your siblings might be available to guard me. He just wanted to know if it was a possibility before he asked you what you thought, but your father went ahead and sent Surgeon and Serise. They arrived late last night. Bressen was going to tell you when you met with him later. We didn’t mean for you to find out this way. ”
Samhail inhaled deeply and tried to get himself under control.
Surgeon and Serise were twins and the youngest of his four siblings.
The two of them had gone everywhere together as children, and while Samhail hadn’t realized they still did, he should’ve at least known to look for Serise when he’d discovered Surgeon here.
He chastised himself mentally for that slip-up. He’d been so distracted by the conversation he needed to have with Cyra that he’d let his guard down, and he was ashamed the twins had taken advantage.
Surgeon and Serise were actually the siblings Samhail considered the least objectionable, although that wasn’t saying much.
In truth, he didn’t know them well. He’d already been grown and on his own before they were born, so he hadn’t seen much of them.
What little he knew of them had been gleaned from those rare times his family got together.
Such occasions inevitably involved contests and sparring matches, and he’d found the twins to be competent warriors, if too reliant on each other.
“Samhail?” Cyra finally prompted when he hadn’t said anything for almost a minute.
“It’s fine,” he said curtly. “I would’ve preferred to know about this sooner, but I’ll speak to Bressen.”
“We would’ve told you sooner,” Cyra said, “but it feels as though you’ve been avoiding us lately. Is anything wrong?”
Samhail looked at her incredulously.
She frowned at him. “What is it? Why are you here?”
He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “We need to talk about what happened in the great room a few days ago.”
Cyra’s brows furrowed. “The great room? Back at the house? Why? What happened there?”
“I mean what happened between you and me there,” he clarified.
Her brows furrowed deeper. “I don’t understand,” she said finally. “What exactly do you think happened?”
Samhail sighed, not sure why she wanted to make this so difficult.
“A couple days ago when you came back from the vineyard to get something,” he said, deciding he’d spell it out if she was really going to make him, “you found me in the great room reading, and you…you were rather forward.”
He’d meant to be blunt, but he stopped short at the look on her face. She seemed genuinely confused, and he suddenly had an uneasy feeling.
“Samhail,” she said, “I never came home from the vineyard to get something. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Unease pooled in Samhail’s stomach, and he stood up to pace. His heart pounded in his chest. If that hadn’t been Cyra in the great room the other day, then there was only one other explanation.
Fuck. It all made sense now, why she’d smelled different, acted different, and even felt different.
He hadn’t been able to figure out what had caused that last, but he knew now.
There’d been no divine imperative tugging at him that day.
Whenever he was around Cyra, the imperative made it feel like there was a barely discernable charge of static electricity running through him, but he hadn’t felt it that day.
To be sure, he’d felt a few other things, but not the divine imperative.
Cyra got to her feet as well and came over to lay a hand on his arm, but Samhail flinched and pulled away from her.
“Samhail?” she said anxiously. “What’s wrong? You’re worrying me.”
“Cyra,” he said, then trailed off. He had no idea how to tell her what had happened now that he was almost certain it hadn’t been her he’d seen.
Cyra reached out once more, but she stopped short of touching him, apparently afraid he might pull away again. “Please,” she said. “Please tell me what’s going on.”
“Cyra,” he tried again, “two days ago, you…or someone who looked like you, found me in the great room back at the house. She…”
He dragged a hand through his long hair. He couldn’t tell her this. He’d been ashamed of his behavior when he thought it was her, but the truth was even more humiliating.
“Let me see?” Cyra suggested.
He looked at her and shook his head. “No, I…”
“Please,” she said gently.