Moonshadow

Chapter Five

The round, wooden table in the corner of the front room was stained dark and scarred from many years of use. Nikolas chose a worn velvet chair tucked in the corner so he could look out over the rest of the room and watch the door.

From that vantage point, he watched Gawain talk with the American woman and listened easily to their low-voiced exchange. Nikolas filed her name away for future reference as he took in the details of her appearance.

She wasn’t short for a female, but she appeared short and slight next to Gawain, whose brawny height emphasized the femininity of her slender figure. Many of the details Nikolas had gleaned from the vision two weeks ago held true.

Her hair was long, black, and curling. She kept it pulled back from her pale, angular face by looping it into a short braid. It exploded from the end of the braid in an extravagant cloud of curls. Like the vision, her creamy skin was sprinkled with freckles, her lips were plush and pink, and she looked tired and too thin, almost gaunt. Dark circles ringed her eyes.

There was one arresting change from what he had seen before.

Those eyes. In the vision, her eyes had been pale and uninteresting. In reality, they were spectacular. They might be called pale gray or even light blue—it was hard to tell across the room—but mere descriptive words were inadequate and didn’t do them justice.

Her eyes were brilliant, and not just with the force of her personality and the magic she carried. They seemed to draw from every light around her and sparkled with luminosity, almost like diamonds.

He drew in a deep breath, filtering out the other scents in the pub to bring her feminine scent into his lungs. There was something different about her. She wasn’t quite fully human, and she held a significant amount of personal Power. It would be a mistake to underestimate her.

Gawain persuaded her to join them, and still carrying Robin under her arm, she followed him reluctantly to the corner table where she gave Nikolas one sour, brief glance before choosing a seat to his right, which kept her from having her back to the room as well.

Gawain took the seat to Nikolas’s left, settling his large, powerful body with care into the chair, leaving Nikolas’s view of the room unobstructed.

He completed his study of the female and turned his attention to Robin, who looked strangely small and frail. The puck’s Power felt nonexistent, and there was something wrong with his eyes as well. One of them was off-center, appearing to look off to the side. Frowning, Nikolas cupped his chin in one hand, resting the elbow on the other arm, which he crossed over his chest as he studied the puck.

In a low voice, Gawain said to him, “How long do you think we have?”

“Not long,” he responded. “A half an hour at most. We should not take any longer than that. This isn’t an isolated area, like our gathering was up north.”

“I can leave, while you two talk.”

“Oh no. No, no.” Sophie threw up her free hand in a universal “stop” gesture. She said to Gawain, “If you leave, I’m leaving too. I’m not going to stay here and talk to him alone.”

The emphasis she put on that was most distinctly not a positive one. Nikolas’s eyes narrowed. While he couldn’t care less about what the female thought of him, one way or another, she would talk with him.

He told her, “I am not leaving, and neither are you. You and I have things to say to each other.”

When she finally looked at him, her face was drawn tight with anger and distaste. “What are you going to do to keep me here? This again?” She held up her free hand, showing a pale slender wrist that was swollen and red with his fingermarks.

At the sight, Nikolas’s mouth tightened. The ghost of the man he used to be turned uneasily in its grave.

He had no illusions about himself. Once he would have been filled with remorse at bruising a female, but long ago he had turned cold and hard.

A female had killed so very many of his people. His friends. That female was hell-bent on annihilating an entire demesne, and Nikolas was capable of doing things now that he had never dreamed possible.

He said in a soft, warning voice, “I would do that and so much more if it meant we get answers we need.”

Robin growled while the woman leaned forward.

Forward, toward Nikolas, not away from him in fear. Meeting aggression with aggression. He raised his eyebrows. Usually people didn’t respond to him in such a manner.

She whispered, “You touch me again without my permission, and I will damage you.”

That face. Those mesmerizing eyes. She showed absolutely no fear even though he could detect traces of it in her scent. Surprised, he almost smiled before he remembered she was not someone he felt any inclination to smile at.

Gawain leaned forward too. “We don’t have time for this.” Looking at Sophie, he explained, “When Nikolas and I are together, we raise a discernible amount of energy between us. It is the same when we are with our comrades. The more of us who gather, the stronger the effect. We don’t do anything to generate it. It occurs naturally, although the effect also grows in intensity whenever we use magic.”

As Gawain spoke, Nikolas kept his attention trained on her. He found himself reluctant to look away. The miniscule changes in her expression were fascinating.

Her eyelids lowered briefly. “I think I understand what you’re saying. I can feel it just sitting here with you.”

“Our enemies use that to hunt us. As we are not a strong enough force to defeat them, it keeps us from banding together for any length of time.”

Her attention turned sharp and piercing. She looked interested in their problem almost in spite of herself. “What if you throw a null spell? Won’t that dissipate the energy?”

Nikolas didn’t like how she focused solely on Gawain. He said abruptly, “Yes, but the effect only lasts for a few minutes.”

“Usually, my null spells don’t last long either.” She hesitated, then said slowly, almost reluctantly, “What if I told you I might have a way to hold the null spell in place for longer than a few minutes. Would you be interested?”

“Do you mean like an amulet?” Nikolas didn’t like the sound of that.

No magic user liked null spells in amulets or jewelry. Typically, only nonmagical creatures liked to use null spell jewelry for protection, and prisons used null spells in cells and handcuffs to contain dangerous, Powerful prisoners.

Null spell amulets also worked counter to the Daoine Sidhe purpose when they gathered to cast the invocation to contact Lyonesse. Handling null amulets hampered their ability to cast defensive and offensive spells and to detect dangers around them.

“No,” Sophie replied. “What I can do is not that permanent, and it’s easily negated. Would you be interested?”

Nikolas met Gawain’s eyes. He could see the other man was as intrigued as he was. Gawain said, “Even if you could, it would have limited application. Dampening our Power also means crippling our abilities and dulling our senses. It’s a dangerous proposition to consider.”

“True,” Sophie agreed. “It would really only achieve one thing—it would give you the ability to be together for longer than a few minutes without being detected.”

He glanced at Gawain again. They could have a real conversation, maybe share a meal together. The lure was so strong Nikolas pulled back emotionally from it. In a harsh voice, he said, “What’s the catch to this?”

Sophie’s slender black eyebrows rose. “As far as I can tell, there are two catches. You already know the first. It would hamper your ability to cast spells, at least until you rinsed the spell off, which is easy to do. The second is—you haven’t convinced me yet that I should do a goddamn thing for you.”

She held Robin on her lap protectively as she spoke, while she glared first at Nikolas then at Gawain, who replied with quiet courtesy, “You have every right to feel the way you do, after what just happened. What can we do to convince you?”

She compressed those luscious, sensual lips of hers. Then in a tight voice, she asked, “Did either of you have anything to do with a nasty spell I encountered while I was walking into town?” She looked at Gawain. “You know what I’m talking about. I saw you slow down on your bike and study the area where it landed.”

Gawain’s expression changed. “You were there when I was?”

“Yes.” She looked down at the creature in her lap. “Both—what is his name, Robin?—and I were.”

“I had no idea,” he murmured as if to himself. “I didn’t sense you at all.”

Her mouth quirked. “That’s because I didn’t want you to.”

She was cocky, Nikolas would give her that. Absently he twisted the signet ring on his ring finger while he listened to their exchange. Sophie’s attention dropped to the movement.

He told her abruptly, “The woman who created that spell is our mortal enemy. She’s the one who is trying to destroy us.”

For the first time, Sophie regarded him without anger or distaste. Gently she pulled one of the dog’s ears to the side, revealing its bony, blistered neck. She said, “That spell was woven into a broken silver rope tied around Robin’s neck.”

“Is that what happened?” Nikolas asked the puck. “Did the Queen imprison you?” The puck remained silent. “Robin? Why aren’t you speaking?”

The dog opened its mouth and showed him. In the recess where a tongue should be, there was only a stump.

Nikolas clenched his teeth. Gawain swore under his breath. Sophie blanched visibly while horror darkened her eyes. She whispered, “Earlier when I fell asleep, I dreamed about being in a cage while they tore out my tongue and threw it on a fire.”

Nikolas tried telepathy. Robin. Tell me what happened to you.

The puck gave no indication that he heard. Tilting his head back, he watched Sophie’s face unwaveringly, like the dog he appeared to be.

Aloud, Nikolas said, “He’s not talking telepathically either. I’m not even sure I connected with him.”

An odd expression crossed Sophie’s face, and a small, bitter smile twisted her lips. She murmured, “He’s nonverbal, possibly trauma induced. Hopefully he’ll recover his language as he heals. I’ve known it to happen.”

As they talked, Arran walked up to their table, carrying a tray. He looked at Nikolas. “Everyone else has been served, my lord, just as you requested. What can I bring you? Drinks and supper?”

Nikolas glanced at Gawain, who said, “A half hour is almost up. Either we need to split up, or we can see what this young lady might be able to do for us.” Gawain turned to Sophie. “I don’t want to be forced to leave before we’ve finished this conversation. I’ll volunteer for your spell if you would be so kind to cast it.”

Every muscle in Nikolas’s body tensed. It went against all his instincts to trust a stranger to put a spell on one of them, especially when he had clashed with her before, and even now, she held a creature he had never entirely trusted on her lap as they talked.

Then he looked at Robin again, at the protruding bones underneath the thin skin, and the filmy look in eyes had that once snapped with dark sparks of intelligence and mischief. The puck looked ruined, and Nikolas did not think Robin would sit so trustingly on the lap of someone who had been involved in what had happened to him.

He also noticed the gentle protectiveness in the way Sophie curled her hand around the dog’s shoulder, and he remembered how she had stood up to both him and Gawain in defense of what she had thought was an abused pet.

That took courage and decency.

Sophie had noticed his tension and hesitation. “While I appreciate that I frighten you deeply, you can relax,” she said in a sour aside to him. “It’s just a spell drawn with magic-sensitive colloidal silver. It’ll rinse off with water, or you can spit on it and rub it off on your jeans in a pinch. You don’t have to carry an amulet, and there’s no damage done. And it will last for hours, if you want it to, as long as you don’t work up a sweat.”

At her sarcasm, antagonism flared, hot and bright, but he held himself in a clench because Gawain had been right. They had been too long at war, and all his responses to conflict were violent and deadly.

She must have seen it in his eyes, along the dangerous way his body was coiled as if to strike, because her expression flickered and she edged away from him. She hadn’t blinked or flinched before that moment.

Nikolas dismissed her before he did something he couldn’t take back and turned his attention to Arran, who was still waiting. He told the pub keeper, “Bring us Guinness and supper. Whatever your special is for the evening will do.”

“Very good, my lord.” The pub keeper slipped away.

“I don’t know if I like Guinness,” Sophie said. “I’ve never had it before. And I’m not sure I want to sit here and try to choke down food with you two watching me. Thanks for asking, asshole.”

“For the love of all the gods, you stupid woman,” Nikolas said between his teeth. “Is that petty point really what you want to focus on right now?”

He didn’t realize he had spoken in the old tongue until he saw the incomprehension in her face. Gawain coughed quietly into one hand and nudged him under the table with one foot.

Sophie lifted one shoulder. “I’m not sure what you said there, but I have a feeling it was not complimentary. Let’s clear up a few things for you old-timey folks—not that this is likely to come up again anytime soon. Don’t touch me without my permission. Don’t order anything for me again. Don’t speak for me when I can speak for myself. Don’t open doors for me, and don’t take that patronizing, lord-of-all-you-survey tone with me. Not if you want me to do a goddamn thing for you. You still owe me for the attack from two weeks ago—and for this.” She indicated the bruises appearing on her wrist. “Understood?”

Nikolas curled a nostril and didn’t deign to reply. Gawain coughed again. “I, for one, understood that perfectly.”

She gave Gawain a tight smile. “I’ll go get my vial. Be right back.”

Gawain nodded. “Thank you.”

As she stood, she tried to put Robin down in her seat, but the dog let out a sudden ki-yi that was so loud all conversation paused as everybody looked at them.

“Oh fine,” she snapped. She tucked him under her arm, and together they left.

When they were alone again, Nikolas and Gawain looked at each other. Gawain said, “What is the matter with you? You grabbed her and shoved her into the wall, and all because she stopped to help an injured creature?”

The edged note in the other man’s quiet voice rankled. Nikolas snapped, “There’s more going on than that.”

“Well, I’ve never seen you act this way.” The other man studied him keenly. “What did she mean when she said you attacked her?”

“You remember when I killed four Hounds a fortnight ago, just before the summer solstice gathering?”

Gawain frowned. “Yes.”

“The fog rolled over the park within seconds, and the Hounds attacked. Just as I killed the last one, I felt a presence. When I turned around, she was there. Not physically. It was more like a vision. I thought she was part of the ambush, possibly responsible for the fog, and I threw a morningstar at her.” Nikolas set his teeth. “And we still don’t know if she was involved or not. All we really know is that Robin seems attached to her, so it’s unlikely she was involved in torturing him.”

Gawain’s frown deepened as he considered that. “The pub keeper said she just arrived in England.”

“He said she just arrived in England today.” Nikolas stressed the last word. “That has nothing to do with where she was two weeks ago. She could have been here, left, and come back again. Or she could have been involved while in a different location. We never connected physically. It was all psychic, all magical.”

“Damn. Okay.” Gawain blew out a breath as he rubbed the back of his neck. “If she was involved in the attack, she might try to make a run for it.”

“We’ll know if she tries to leave,” Nikolas said. “And I’m sure she has figured that out.”

A pause, as they both listened to the normal sounds in the pub, and Nikolas listened with more than just his ears. He could sense her presence above them, on the second floor, and hear her light, decisive footsteps.

“I don’t think she’s going to try to leave,” Gawain said suddenly. “She’s become too immersed in what’s happening. And she wouldn’t let go of the dog when she thought we might want to hurt it. That doesn’t sound like someone who would cast a blanket of fog to cover up a murder.”

“No, it doesn’t, does it?” Nikolas murmured. He tilted his head. “She wouldn’t even put Robin down just now when he didn’t want her to leave him.”

He still didn’t like how she had shown up at the same time Robin had reappeared, but that could have been a coincidence. What had happened a fortnight ago could have been a coincidence too—but that was a hell of a lot of coincidence. It made him uneasy.

In any case, he had to give credit where credit was due. She might be irritating and mouthy, and she seemed to embody more than one contradiction, but she also appeared to have a streak of genuine kindness.

The woman might end up having more soul than he did.

“What I wouldn’t give for my Glock,” Sophie said under her breath to the dog who wasn’t a dog riding in the curve of her arm. To the puck. Whatever a puck was. “You have no idea. I know a gun isn’t the answer to everything. I know I have many other skills I can rely upon, but a gun is ready, you see, when spells might not be. It can lie under your pillow while you sleep, standing sentinel as you dream, all the bullets nicely nested and just waiting to be fired.”

Robin blinked up at her, looking as if he was trying to comprehend what she was saying. Really, he was playing the dog very well.

She muttered, “I know it’s not attractive to constantly complain about something you can do nothing about, but as long as you’re riding with me, I guess you’re going to have to put up with it.”

While she talked, she unlocked the door to her room, opened her bigger suitcase, and rummaged through the contents until she found the correct royal blue, stoppered bottle along with the small, thin brush she had attached to it with a rubber band. After locking her room again, she loped down the stairs.

Ignoring the sidelong looks from the patrons they’d not yet managed to scare off, she crossed the front room quickly to slide back into her seat. The two men had been conversing in low voices. As she joined them, they sat back and turned their attention to her.

Gawain was the one she trusted so far, at least to some extent. He was the one who made an effort to be decent, whereas Nikolas might have sheathed his physical weapon, but he had never fully put away his blade.

Nikolas watched her now, his dark eyes cold and assessing. He had an utterly beautiful, completely mesmerizing face that was ruined with the edge of malice that was never far from his expression.

At least it wasn’t very far whenever he looked at her. When he turned his attention to Gawain, something much warmer and truer appeared, like the glimpse of a golden city concealed behind a midnight curtain.

It made her heart heavy in a way she didn’t understand, that the one part of the man could be so filled with rancor, while the other part, the barely glimpsed part, was so… so…

So fine. There was a fineness to him, or there could be, if the chilling ferocity eased up and gave the other side of him a chance to breathe.

Well. What she felt or thought about this deadly stranger didn’t matter in the slightest to anyone except for her. Shoving her ruminations aside, she smiled at Gawain. It said something about a man when a saber-toothed tiger was the safer, kinder bet.

Noting the fascinated look on Gawain’s face, she held out the bottle for him to inspect. “Colloidal silver. You know what that is, right?”

Shaking his head, Gawain opened the bottle and pulled out the stopper to sniff at it. He squeezed a few drops onto the tip of one blunt finger, then stopped the bottle and handed it over to Nikolas, who inspected it just as thoroughly.

While they ascertained for themselves that the liquid in the bottle was essentially harmless—at least in its inert state—she said, “Colloidal silver is a simple concoction of silver particles in demineralized water. Some people take it as a supplement for health reasons. I have no idea if it does them any good. A lot of sites, like the National Institutes of Health, have a list of serious side effects that can occur if you take it regularly as an oral supplement. At least for humans.”

Just as Gawain had, Nikolas took a few drops on his finger and tasted it cautiously. “You said this is made with magic-sensitive silver.”

“That’s right. At the moment, the liquid is neutral, like a blank page.” She smiled at Gawain. “Ready?”

“Ready when you are.”

“Give me your hand.”

Obligingly, he held his hand across the table. Settling Robin in her lap, she urged Gawain to turn his hand over so that the broad back was upright.

“I’ll go slowly,” she told him. “If you’re uncomfortable and you want me to stop at any time, all you have to do is say so. And remember, the only thing you have to do to get rid of this particular spell is splash it with some kind of liquid and rub it off. Okay?”

“Okay,” he told her in a steady voice.

He watched her calmly as she took the stopper out and dipped her thin paintbrush in the liquid. Then, lightly, she began to stroke a rune onto his skin while she whispered the null spell that would sink into the pattern the silver made. Gawain remained calm and interested, which was not at all how Nikolas reacted.

Thank gods the spell was a technically simple one that she could cast in her sleep, because the nuclear warhead watching her work had an expression filled with such terrible promises of retribution if she did anything to hurt his friend, it was enough to give her nightmares for weeks.

Like she needed any more fodder for nightmares.

She was used to handling a certain amount of pressure, but still her fingers were shaking slightly by the time she finished. Once the spell had been solidly cast, she could feel the energy in the room ease down. Now only Nikolas still shone like a pillar of flame against her mind’s eye.

She looked up into Gawain’s eyes. “You good?”

He nodded. “I’m good. You have a light touch with your magic.”

Capping the vial, she murmured, “Why use a sledgehammer when a butterfly net will suffice?”

She most emphatically didn’t look to her left where the sledgehammer sat.

Either the sledgehammer was not aware it was being discussed, or it was not amused. It emitted a chilly silence while Gawain coughed into his hand again. Sophie could see a corner of his mouth turn up in brief amusement.

He said, “I can feel the spell lying on my skin, but it’s not irritating. It’s a little like a temporary tattoo, isn’t it?”

“In a way.”

“Where did you learn this skill?” He flattened his hand and tilted it back and forth. There was a faint shimmer where the rune lay against his skin. “Can you buy this liquid?”

“When I left home, I came across an old Native American woman in Nevada who showed me how to work with magic-sensitive silver. She taught me how to make the colloidal silver and cast spells with it. I’ve never heard of anybody else with the skill, and I’ve never seen magic-sensitive colloidal silver for sale.” She shook the vial before pocketing it. “I made this myself.”

“Fascinating.”

After giving Gawain a smile, she turned to look into Nikolas’s dark, cold eyes. “You have questions. I have questions. Since I just helped you and your friend eat supper together, I’ll go first. What is a puck?”

She braced herself for some sort of retaliation for all the snark she’d been feeding him, but he surprised her by giving her a straightforward answer.

“Some people call them lesser Fae, but they aren’t strictly Fae,” he said. “They are like sprites or brownies. In his normal state, Robin looks almost like a boy. He has an affinity with nature, he can shapeshift into a variety of forms, and he’s intensely magical. Usually.”

All three of them looked at Robin, sitting quietly in her lap. The puck seemed to be watching shadows move on the wall, appearing to pay no attention to them.

“My turn,” Nikolas said. The intensity in his expression sharpened. “Where were you a fortnight ago, and what were you doing?”

For some reason she felt a flush warm her cheeks as if she had been caught spying on him, when she had done no such thing. “I was in Los Angeles, where I’ve been living, and I was casting runes for a reading. I focused on my near future, threw the stones, and a vision of you appeared. You were holding a bloody sword, you saw me, and you threw something at me. I could feel it coming, and it didn’t feel good, so I scattered the stones and broke the connection. End of story.”

She paused. Both men were listening to her intently and watching every move she made. She had no doubt that they had highly developed truthsense and were using it. “My turn,” she said. “What were you doing two weeks ago? Why was your sword bloody? And why did you attack me?”

“I had just been attacked myself, and I thought you were part of the ambush. I was defending myself.” His eyes narrowed. “Were you a part of it?”

“No,” she said emphatically. “Absolutely not. I’m going to say this as clearly as possible so you can hear the truth in my voice. I have never met you before. I’ve never heard of either one of you before. I have no idea what you’re up to, or who you are fighting, and I did not have anything to do with what happened to you. In fact, I don’t know why my reading didn’t behave normally. You should never have been able to see me, and I wasn’t scrying—I was working divination. They’re two totally different magics.”

“Of course they are,” Gawain muttered, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully.

“Then how did we collide like that?” Sophie asked. She was eager for some explanation, because she never wanted to have it happen again.

Ever since that morning two weeks ago, she hadn’t felt easy about casting the runes. She had still done it a few times anyway, but she was always on highest alert for any danger, and she had never felt that way before about her rune readings. They used to be a source of comfort and information, and she missed the familiar ease with which she had done them.

“There was other magic that day.” Nikolas leaned back and crossed his arms. The corner wall light threw part of his face into shadow while emphasizing the inhuman beauty in his bone structure. His black shirt fell open at the collar, revealing the strong, pure line of his throat. He regarded the puck narrowly. “Something else was in play. I’m still working to discover what. I thought it was part of the ambush too, but now I’m not so certain. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t.”

Their conversation was interrupted as Arran walked up with a tray of food and drink.

Sophie used the time to regroup as she considered everything they had discussed.

She did not have the highly developed truthsense that many of the Elder Races acquired with experience and age, but she still didn’t believe they had lied to her. They had a dangerous enemy, who was also the one responsible for abusing Robin.

Nikolas had believed she’d helped to attack him. It explained why he had responded the way he had, both two weeks ago and just earlier. It didn’t make him likeable or friendly, and it certainly didn’t make him any less dangerous, but knowing that did ease her tension.

Suddenly the plate of beef stew and homemade bread that Arran set in front of her smelled appetizing, and she thought she might be able to eat at the same table with the two males after all.

When the food arrived, Robin began to tremble so violently he almost slid off her lap.

She offered him a piece of the fragrant bread. He nearly bit her fingers as he snatched at it. “I’m going to put some stew in a dish for you,” she told him gently. “Since you’re in the form of a dog, you’ll be more comfortable eating on the floor.”

As he worked at gulping down the bread, she lifted him onto the floor. When she straightened, she caught Nikolas watching her, his expression inscrutable. His close attention made her uncomfortable. She decided the best thing to do was to ignore it.

Ladling stew onto her bread plate, she picked out the choicest pieces of beef and potatoes as she said to Nikolas, “One thing rang true out of this. I asked for a vision of my near future, and you were in it. And now we’ve done it. We’ve met. So that bit is over. We can all move on and go our separate ways.”

She set the filled bread plate on the floor, and Robin attacked it. It was hard to watch him bolt the food while his body still trembled. Her eyes prickled with a flood of moisture, and after a moment, she had to look away—back at Nikolas, as it happened, who had not stopped watching her.

“Why are you in England?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

Blinking away the wetness, she focused on her food. “That’s a long story. The short version is, I’m on vacation for three months. I’m here to see if I can somehow get into the old Weston manor. If I can, then I’ll inherit it and the grounds, along with an annuity. Kind of kooky, huh?”

While Nikolas hadn’t picked up a utensil yet, Gawain ate with a kind of single-minded attention that said he thoroughly appreciated a hot, filling meal. Gawain asked, “What do you do in LA?”

“I was a witch consultant for the LAPD,” she told him as she slipped another piece of bread to Robin. She hesitated. She should make herself talk about it. It’s just a thing that happened in her past. Say it. Be done with it. Move on. “There was a shooting. I was involved. I needed a break, so when this opportunity came, I leaped at it.”

Nikolas said, “You were shot?”

How had he known to ask that question? She glanced at him. She didn’t mean to meet his eyes, but she did, and the shock of connection was there again, jolting her down to her shoes. Clearing her throat, she said in a husky voice, “Yeah, I was. I got over it.”

Even to her own ears, she could hear the lie in that. Of course they heard it too. Plunging onward, she said, “You never told me who your enemy was.”

“Some names you don’t speak in public,” Nikolas said quietly.

Her fork paused in midair as she absorbed the implications of that. She reached out with telepathy. How about telepathically?

Some names shouldn’t be spoken telepathically either. His mental voice was a deep, true baritone. Not if all of us are going our separate ways. The wisest thing, by far the safest thing, would be for you to give Robin over to us and go back to your own agenda.

But she wasn’t exactly talented at picking the wisest or the safest thing. She looked down at the puck. Robin had finished eating, and he moved to lean against her ankle. Bending down, she looked into his filmy eyes and said softly, “Robin, I made you a promise that I would make everything okay. That hasn’t changed just because I know you’re not a dog. Do you want to go with Nikolas or Gawain, or would you rather stay with me until you’re feeling better?”

He didn’t answer her in words. Instead, he stood against her leg, begging for her to pick him up. As she gathered him into her arms, she felt his belly, which was visibly rounded after his meal.

Straightening, she looked at Nikolas and Gawain. They were both watching her with troubled frowns. She told them, “He’s staying with me for now.”

Nikolas’s frown turned fierce. “You’re making a mistake.”

Her voice turned cool. “I’m making a decision to honor a promise I made. That’s never a mistake.”

“No, but you weren’t in the possession of all the facts when you made it.” Nikolas nodded at Robin. “He’s been involved in our war in some way, and that could be very bad, for both you and for him.”

She didn’t waver. “I knew about the rope when I took it off his neck. I knew I had a major problem with whoever had created it, and I made the promise to him then. You’re choosing to withhold information from me that could be useful, but that doesn’t actually change a thing.”

Gawain rubbed his face. “We’re not telling you anything, lass, because we’re trying to protect you.”

“I should have added one more thing to my list.” She gave them a cold, thin smile. “Don’t try to protect me in spite of myself.”

Quick anger burned in Nikolas’s dark eyes. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Yeah, well, whose fault is that?” They looked at each other but remained silent, so she stood and hoisted Robin under her arm. “Glad we got a chance to clear the air. Thanks for supper. Good-bye.”

When she walked away, neither of them tried to stop her. She wasn’t surprised. She hadn’t expected them to. They might have cleared the air, but that was all they had achieved.

Because they knew as well as she did: the enemy of her enemy was not necessarily her friend.