Better than that? #3
A terrible cry on her lips, Luna lunged for the door, but Nigel was too quick for her. “No!” he barked, grabbing hold of her arm and yanking her back to him.
“It’s my fault!” Luna sobbed, wrenching against his grasp.
“It’s my fault, Nigel! I let them go, I let them leave!
I knew the Brotherhood was out there, searching for me, and I let them leave the wardings anyway, because .
. . because . . . Oh, Nigel, how could I have done it? How could I have been so selfish?”
Part of him wondered if he should remind her that he’d stood right beside her and waved the aunties away with equal, if not greater, enthusiasm.
That could not have been more than two hours ago.
The Brotherhood must have already been closing in to have found Aurora and Arabella so quickly, ascertained their connection to Luna, and made their move.
They might have been in the village of Greater Snoring last night, in fact. He wouldn’t be surprised.
The truth was, he’d known better. The moment Luna awakened last night and proved her restored energy by jumping him on that rocking chair, he should have insisted on their immediate flight from the cottage.
Granted, he wasn’t truly recovered enough to perform a summoning, not without risking another collapse.
But he should have applied his mind to figuring out their next move rather than applying all his attention to the delights of this woman he so desperately loved.
Now, because of his greediness, here they were, in as perilous a position as they’d ever known.
So much for his bold claims of being able to control his manly urges!
Tears pouring down her face, Luna twisted in his arms, even now ready to hurl herself into the Brotherhood’s clutches. Nigel yanked her fiercely, pulling her against his chest and crushed her close. “You’re not going out there,” he growled.
“I have to, Nigel!”
Calista’s voice rang out again beyond the barrier: “You have one minute!”
Luna uttered a despairing moan. Grabbing Nigel’s face between her hands, she kissed him, trembling and sobbing.
“I love you!” she gasped as she pulled back.
“And I loved being your wife. But you promised me, Nigel. You promised you wouldn’t die in front of me!
You’ve got to stay inside now. You’ve got to stay within the barriers. ”
Nigel wanted to point out that he had not, in fact, made any promise of the kind. But he didn’t think that would help matters just now. “I will destroy them all,” he said instead, uttering the words with terrible conviction.
Luna shook her head. “You can’t even perform a summoning without fainting.” She pressed her head into the ruffles on his breast. “Auntie Aurora told me about our arrival in the yard yesterday.”
“Thirty seconds!” Calista cried.
Yanking against his iron grip, Luna stroked his face one last time.
“Please. Please, Nigel. I’m not afraid.” She drew herself up very straight and stiffened her quivering jaw.
“I knew this was coming. I’ve known for years.
But you . . . you’ve given me more happiness in these last few months than I ever could have believed possible!
Thank you, Nigel. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for marrying me.”
“Twenty seconds!”
Nigel spun her off her feet, placing her behind him. “You’re not going out there,” he repeated firmly. “Let me take care of this, Luna. I’m more recovered than you think. Stay here.”
With this command, he turned away from her, approaching the door.
“Ten seconds!” Calista screamed, sounding more manic than ever.
A quick search inside himself, and Nigel grimaced.
Without the Sovereign Troth hampering him, he could draw from any number of power sources around the cottage.
There was plenty of Green Magic to convert into tremendous Dire-fueled spells.
What that conversion would do to him, however, he couldn’t say.
But surely he might summon enough for that incinerating blast. He’d first have to get the aunties to safety, but he’d figure out those details as he went.
Right now, he needed to stride out into that yard, engage Calista in dialogue, prevent any immediate carving of aunties from taking place, and—
He opened the door.
Then pain exploded across the back of his head.
Distantly, he heard the crash of shattered pottery, but it was as though that sound didn’t really matter. Nor did the sensation of his knees hitting flagstones, nor the taste of blood in his mouth from where he bit his tongue. Nothing mattered save the exploding red storm bursting behind his eyes.
He collapsed to the floor, inert but not quite unconscious.
Vaguely, he felt the swish of silky fabric as Luna stepped over him, pausing just long enough to crouch and set down the detached handle of the old clay teapot. She ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead as she murmured sadly, “That was my favorite teapot too.”
“Three seconds!” Calista shrieked.
With a last whisper of silk, Luna stepped through the open kitchen door and passed beyond Nigel’s range of sight.