Iron and Hemlock #5
Her throat tightened. “Yeah.” They were approaching the gates now. It seemed important to make him understand. “I think it’s become a habit, you know? The grief. I’ve been searching for a way to . . . heal, I guess. Last night, I think I used you.” She swallowed.
He stopped her. When she wouldn’t meet his eyes, he took her hands. “Jordon Hearst, I do not feel used. Have you considered that finding a new love is one of the best ways to heal?”
She jerked her hands back with a gasp. She wanted to berate him. How dare he? And yet . . . “I don’t love you. I barely know you.”
“Today, that’s true. You don’t know what tomorrow will bring.”
She didn’t want to discuss this. She strode through the gate, still hoping he’d leave her alone. She searched the ground carefully, glad for the excuse to hide her eyes. She didn’t love him. There was no such thing as love at first sight.
Of course, there were no such things as griffins, either. Or time travel, for that matter. She ignored that errant little thought, concentrating on her task. She didn’t have time for nonsense.
She didn’t know what she expected to find on the road.
In the daylight, it was an ordinary country lane.
She walked over to the place where she estimated she’d arrived, looking for a feeling of otherness, for any sign of what had transported her last night.
There was nothing. The only significance about the area was its proximity to the mansion gates.
She glanced at them and sighed. She had a feeling she knew what Griffin would say about that.
Annoyed, she ruthlessly began to search the trees at the side of the road for anything that might trigger a portal home.
Griffin seemed to be searching, too, though she got the feeling he was more interested in possible danger than in portals. His head was up, and his nostrils flared as if scenting the wind. After last night’s fight with the banshee, she couldn’t blame him. She even found she was glad of it.
It was as she searched the ditch that she felt the growing sensation that something was wrong. She glanced at the woods, as if she could peer through the trees to see what might be coming. “Griffin?” she said uncertainly.
He saw the direction she was looking. She thought she could see his hackles rise. He grasped her arm and began walking her towards the gate. “Quickly now.”
She didn’t resent his taking command. She knew something wasn’t right, too.
A zing ran down her spine, and her breath came faster.
The feeling didn’t make sense, but she hadn’t forgotten the banshee.
Never mind that she’d never been bothered by so much as a stray premonition before, Jordon headed for the gates at a rapid clip.
She would have run if Griffin hadn’t kept her at a walk. Something was coming!
He appeared before the house when they were halfway up the drive.
Dark, urbane and unapologetically other.
Beautiful danger, seductive killer. He stood there dressed in an old-fashioned, midnight-blue frock coat, white ruffles spilling from the sleeves and cravat.
Long hair, a burnished black, spilled from under a beaver top hat.
Both hands rested on a polished ebony cane with a silver knob. He studied her with blue, blue eyes.
“I know you,” she whispered, appalled. “You’re the man who tried to kill me with the car.”
Griffin looked at her sharply. He seemed coiled, tensed to fight, but he stayed quiet and listened.
The stranger smiled slightly. “A miscalculation. I’ve come to pay my . . . respects.”
“Your respects!” Anger flashed through her veins, tightening her muscles. She was ready to lash out at him when another thought occurred. “You know how to take me back!”
His mouth quirked. “There would be no point, you know. The house would only draw you back here.”
She glanced suspiciously at the house behind him. “It’s not alive.”
His smile grew razor sharp. “You haven’t been here long enough to appreciate it. Meanwhile, I hope to further our acquaintance. I am called Naturu. The pleasure is mine, Jordon Hearst.” His scintillating smile hinted at the kind of pleasure he meant.
Griffin smiled with white, shar p teeth. “Don’t be so confident, fae. She’s spoken for.”
“Am I?” Jordon asked sharply. She turned her attention back to Naturu. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave. I’m not usually thrilled to meet a would-be assassin.” She expected him to protest, or attempt to charm her, but he only inclined his head.
“As I said, I regret the circumstances of our first meeting. As a token of apology, I came to offer a friendly warning.” His tone was silky, caressing. “Do not leave this place alone, Ms Hearst. There are more than shadows waiting outside these gates.”
Griffin’s lip curled.
A chill kissed her spine. She remembered the fear that had made her run back to the house, knew without a doubt Naturu was right. It didn’t make her like him any better, though. Acidly, she said, “You’re too kind.”
He smiled seductively. “I can see I’ve overstayed my welcome. Accept my parting gift, then, and think of me with better favour.” He bowed, then disappeared in a swirl of black smoke. She glanced around, but he was nowhere in sight.
Griffin met her gaze with hooded eyes. “He’s gone. For now.” His eyes swept over her, his expression carefully neutral.
She followed his gaze, blinking in surprise as she caught sight of her clothes.
She was now wearing a blue cashmere dress over a pale blue, silk under-dress.
The sleeves and neckline were liberally adorned with pearls.
There were even matching silk slippers upon her feet.
It was beautiful, but . . . “Stupid man! Those were my favourite jeans.” She was not inclined to look with favour on Naturu’s gift. He’d tried to kill her!
Sage spoke dryly from the front door. From his words, he must have witnessed most of the conversation. “Be grateful he didn’t turn you into a lowly moth. That one could have done far worse.” He frowned at the dress. “It suits you better than Griff’s shirt, at any rate.”
Both she and Griffin glowered. Neither one of them liked Naturu messing with her clothes.
Griff gently took her arm. “We ’ll have the seamstress in today. You deserve a choice of clothing.”
She hesitated, glanced back at the gates. Had she really searched as well as she could have?
Griffin leaned down to whisper in her ear. “It’s not worth the danger. You can search again another time.”
She considered, then reluctantly allowed him to escort her inside. He was probably right . . . for now.
Griffin waited until Jordon was settled in the parlour with a tea tray before making his offer. He worked up to it, of course, and made a very fine effort.
Jordon was not impressed. “Marriage.” She grimaced and set down her tea. “There’s no reason for that, Griff.”
He looked at her steadily. “There is the possibility of a child.”
She sighed and looked around the dusty parlour. “I think you need a maid more than you need a wife. What happened to this place?”
“We were away. Our help deserted us. Unfortunately, it is not easy to find servants who can adapt to our household. Fae work well, but they were threatened in our absence. I don’t blame them for leaving. About my offer—”
“I’ll entertain it, but I need some answers first. Who is Naturu? You didn’t seem surprised by him.”
He clearly disliked the subject change, but he humoured her. “He is the brother of our matriarch. The house, you know.”
“No, I don’t know. What about it?” she asked, slightly irritated. “There seems to be an unspoken assumption around here that I know things. Maybe you’d better back up and give me some of the history of this place.”
He thought for a moment. “Very well. It might help simplify things.
“Many years ago, there was a fae named Hyani. As a child, she played with the young of a clan of shape-shifters. Eventually, she came to love a young shifter named Traic.
“Her family did not approve. They forbade her to be with him.
Instead of obeying them, she ran away to be with her love.
By the time their hiding place was discovered, they had already produced three children.
Her parents, while angered, did not want to discipline their beloved daughter. Not all fae felt the same way.
“There was war. Traic was killed in battle, but his friends the gargoyles helped Hyani and the children escape. They fled to the mortal world, but Hyani could not overcome her grief. In her despair, she transformed herself into a form that could shelter her children, but would be unable to suffer the pain of loss. She became this house.”
Jordon blinked. “She became a house? How is that possible?” She looked around, trying to see a living being in the walls around her. It looked ordinary enough to her, if richly appointed and rather dusty.
Griffin shook his head. “After all you’ve seen, how can you doubt? Have faith that the house is what remains of our ancestor.
“It is said that the ladies of the house sometimes hear her guidance. I wouldn’t doubt she had a hand in bringing you here. It’s been a long time since there was a woman she could talk to.”
“Mrs Y. is here,” Jordon pointed out.
He smiled. “Mrs Y. is extraordinary, but she is not family.” Before she could comment on that, he went on, “Hyani’s children were of mixed blood and inherited long life, something that infuriated the fae, who were jealous of the gifts.
They did not want to see mortals rival them in any way.
There has been strife between the two races ever since, though the fae are careful never to attack Hyani in any way that would raise the ire of her family, for fae children are rare, and she is still much loved by her parents.