A Thief of Nightshade (40 page)

“You still sore?” she asked without turning around.

“That obvious, huh?”

She laughed. “Has he stopped teasing you yet?”

The amount of grief and weight they’d all felt since that day in the Winter Court had seemed immeasurable, but as soon as the threat of losing Aubrey had lifted, Jullian had latched onto the story Lipsey told him about Aislinn having existed for the last ten years as a bear. As any older sibling would have, he’d teased Aislinn mercilessly.

“No, and I doubt he ever will. That’s okay, though, it’s worth it. I’ve missed him.”

She turned and smiled. “I know you did. Your sister will be here soon with the children.”

He felt elated at the thought of seeing them again, but he was also scared. What would he say to them? It had been so long.

“Tell them that you love them, that you’ve missed them.” She rested her back on the railing and tilted her head. “You don’t have anything to fear.”

“What if they don’t like me?”

“Everybody likes you. You’re kind of like a mean old dog that’s been around so long you get used to it.”

Aislinn chuckled. “I’m a dog now? I guess I do deserve a hard time after what I put you through.”

“Yes,” she laughed. “Yes, you do.”

He moved close enough to rest a hand on the banister on either side of her.

“Speaking of the past, do you remember that conversation in which we discussed your future?”

“Uh huh, the one where, despite barely knowing me, you asserted some knowledge of what that future contained?”

“Sometimes that’s all it takes.”

“And what exactly does this future of mine hold?” She blushed and he couldn’t help but to touch her face.

“Seeing as how you’re Queen of Agincourt. And I’m the newly appointed King of the animal realm, though I still don’t think that’s fair...”

Given giggled. She’d found the appointment more than a little amusing, as had Lipsey. But it did make sense considering that Aislinn now had dealings with the realm of Man and Fae. And he’d spent a little under a third of his life as one of their own. Who better to act on their behalf?

“If you’ll stop laughing, I’ll tell you the rest of it.”

She mimed locking her lips with a key.

“I think, with those things in mind, that a marriage of kingdoms is in order.”

“And just how do you suggest we go about that?”

“I happen to know an eligible bachelor in my kingdom who would make a great husband.”

“Oh?”

He leaned in, brushing his lips against her cheek. “Yes, I do. His name is Lipsey, and I’m sure you’ll find him a fantastic conversationalist.”

Given socked him playfully in the stomach. This would have been cute were it not for the bruising to his left side that she’d forgotten all about. He grunted as he doubled over.

“I forgot! I’m so sorry. Ah.” She hissed in her breath in sympathy. “I bet that hurt.”

Aislinn looked up and forced a smile as she placed a hand over where she’d hit him. “It did, but you can make it up to me.”

“Anything.”

“Marry me.”

“Are you serious?”

Aislinn groaned. “Quite. My brother spoke of love when we were children still, as if he’d know it the moment he saw it. I never understood him until now.”

This shook the seriousness from her face. “You did not love me the moment you saw me. You threatened to send me off on my own into the forest, cold and hungry.”

“This is true ... but...”

“Hmmm? But what? Marriage is a big deal, Aislinn, not something that you can just—”

Aislinn pulled her to him and before she could finish, kissed her. “Did I already mention that you’re in love with me?”

She threatened to sock him in the stomach again and he lifted his brows in mock horror.

“But,” he continued, “I don’t think I’ve told you yet that, regardless of how we met, I’m in love with you. You can say no, Given. You don’t have to marry me.

But, I’ll pine away and wind up dying old and alone and—”

This time she shut him up with a kiss.

“Yes, you big dramatic oaf. Yes, I’ll marry you. But promise me one thing ...

you may consider it a wedding gift.”

“Anything.”

“Tear it down.”

“You’re going to have to get more specific than that.”

“My mother’s court. I don’t expect it to happen overnight, but eventually...”

He ran his flesh-and-blood hand through her hair. “We’ve already started.”

“What?”

The remaining Sidhe had already moved of their own accord into the forest near Koldavere, this much Given knew.

“Jullian and I talked about it yesterday. I was going to wait and be all romantic and take you there, show you in person. But you had to jump the gun. It will be months before they begin new construction.”

“You’re so full of it. Has the destruction really started?”

“Yes,” he said gently. He kissed her forehead. “You’re not the least bit curious about the new construction part?”

“I didn’t think...”

“We’re building a Fae monastery and there will be winter gardens for reflection. It will be a place for anyone who wishes to go and find peace. I thought it fitting, since it was such a place of sorrow.”

“Thank you.” Given sniffled. “Shut up. I can’t help it.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

“Really?” her voice sounded muffled against his chest.

“Well, maybe without the snot

dripping from your—”

She blew her nose into his freshly pressed shirt.

“I asked for that, didn’t I?”

She laughed and hugged him tighter.

“Would it help to tell you that I love you, too?”

Grant flexed his hands, his fingers stiff from driving, and glanced at the rearview mirror.

Samantha opened her eyes and lifted her head from Harry’s shoulder to look around them. Before she answered him, she took the sippy cup from where Grant’s daughter had dropped it to the floor and tucked it back into the shoulder bag beside her. “I’m not picking that up again, kiddo.”

The little girl smiled, her bright green eyes shining. “Sorry, Aunt Sam.”

“It should be just ahead,” Sam said.

“There’s a driveway to the left, um, no on the right. Gravel. You can’t miss the mailbox, it’s a giant bear.”

“Sam,

I

know

where

it

is.

Remember?”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot.”

Dana, Grant’s wife, stirred once they’d found the drive and sat up.

“Finally. I was having the worst dream.

Where the hell are we?”

Grant caught Sam rolling her eyes at Harry and couldn’t help but to smile. He considered himself lucky to have gotten the five of them into the vehicle together, especially

considering

that

Sam’s

hormones seemed worse than ever now that she was in her last trimester. She couldn’t stand Dana on her best days.

Grant had only been to the cabin a handful of times while Jullian and Aubrey were alive, but after Aubrey drowned, he’d practically lived there for two years.

Dana had threatened to leave him. His practice went under. After a while, he’d broken down and when Brooke and Harrington came to the cabin together to confront him, he’d finally had enough.

They brought up the past that night, spoken the full truth of everything that had gone on, and Grant had given them a choice— tell the truth publicly or he would. Brooke hadn’t spoken to him since. It would be six years come November, four of which he’d spent with a coin in his pocket that meant more than all the real money in the world.

And tell the truth he had. It had more than ruined the family name. Too much time had passed to press charges, even had Brooke been willing. But it brought his father into the limelight and in doing so it brought forward victims neither Grant nor his siblings had known about. For some of them, it wasn’t too late.

The fallout, instead of turning them against each other, brought Grant and Harrington even closer. Harry and Sam had started dating at some point during Grant’s seclusion at the cabin, and when everything fell apart, she helped put all the pieces back together. He felt ashamed now of how he’d treated her in the past.

She embodied everything he would have wished for in a friend for Aubrey. At times he found himself just the slightest bit jealous that Harry had woken up and found her first.

“Daddy, look!”

Grant parked the SUV and glanced up at the stained-glass windows of the cabin, lit by the waning light of day.

Breathtaking.

“Oh, the ground is all muddy, Grant,”

Dana groaned.

“Then stay here.” Grant didn’t move his gaze from the windows as he opened the door and got out. He’d thought he had those windowpanes memorized, what with all the hours he’d spent staring at them in his drunken stupor. But he must have missed something because he didn’t fully recognize the one right in front of him.

“Wow, it really looks like her, doesn’t it?” Harry asked. “Did you have that done recently? It’s just like the part John added to the book. Man, that’s something.”

Grant shook his head, taking in the auburn hair and pale complexion. There, in stained glass, was a perfect rendering of Aubrielle and Jullian. “I’ve never seen it before.”

“Here, Grant, take these.” Dana, who seemed wholly uninterested by the miraculous appearance of the stained glass, handed him the flowers and book he’d gathered to leave on the dock. The flowers–lilies–had been his sister’s favorite. The book, A Thief of Nightshade, he’d

managed

to

get

traditionally

published after Aubrey and Jullian’s estate had been left to him, along with the unfinished manuscript Jullian had been working on before his disappearance.

Grant had hired a ghostwriter, John, to carry the story to completion. He felt it the least he could do to honor the man.

“Did you read it?” Sam asked. “I mean, all of it?” She moved to help Dana with the strap of the car seat in the back.

“Even the new parts?”

“Yes, Samantha, I read it. I did. Not my usual kind of novel, but Jullian...”

Grant cleared his throat in an attempt to settle the emotions he felt rising. “Jullian had a way with words ... Sam, did you have this done?” He motioned to the window.

Sam shook her head. “No, neither of us did. And we all know Dana didn’t.”

Dana frowned, but refrained from remarking.

After a few minutes of silence and gathering everything together, the group moved to the dock. There, Grant walked to the end and kneeled down with the flowers and the book.

“Daddy!”

He turned to see his daughter squirm free of Dana’s hold and run down the planks toward him. He met her halfway and picked her up, tears clouding his vision. “I’m right here, Aubrey.”

“Don’t be sad.” She placed her tiny hands on his cheeks, a huge innocent smile on her face, and it reminded him of when his sister had been that age. He hugged her close, biting his lip to keep from crying and squeezed his eyes shut.

“It’s okay to be sad sometimes, baby,” he whispered.

“But she said it makes her sad, too ...

when you’re sad and when Aunt Sam is sad.”

Grant opened his eyes and watched as Aubrey reached into the pocket of her tiny blue jeans and pulled out a familiar silver dragonfly. “Who does it make sad?

Where did you get that?”

Aubrey pointed one chubby little finger to the stained glass window in the distance. “The lady in the picture. She gave it to me last night.”

Sam had overheard the conversation and walked closer. “Honey, when did you see the lady in the picture?” She took the necklace and looked it over. “Grant, this is hers ... this is really hers. But, it can’t be ... she was buried in it.”

“I told you, Aunt Sam, last night in my bedroom,” the little girl said. “She reads me stories sometimes.”

Grant held Aubrey tighter, tears freely flowing now. Could it be?

“She reads to me out of the book you made.”

Grant pointed to the book and flowers at his feet. “That book?”

She nodded. “She said to tell you thank you and to tell Aunt Sam that everything is okay, but I forgot to. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, baby, it’s all right.”