Goblin Moon (4 page)

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Authors: Candace Sams

BOOK: Goblin Moon
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The doors opened and Shayla walked toward him. “Are you ready to meet Kathleen?"

"We
have
met. I was the one who held her while she was being sedated, remember? Why not save time and get the whole thing over with tonight, Sorceress? You and some of your Druid friends can even watch if you like. That way, you can make sure I've done my part.” Her eyes narrowed, and he realized he'd pushed her patience to the limit. But she could only kill him once, and that alternative was becoming more and more appealing.

"Step into the library,” she tersely commanded.

He walked through the double oak doors and she followed. As he turned to face her, the doors slammed shut behind her without being touched. The sound echoed through the room and shook the arched windows. He'd never seen her so angry. The knowledge that her fury was directed at him didn't matter anymore.

"You impudent, arrogant fool,” she bit out. “This is the last chance to save your people, and your niece told me you'd made her a promise to keep an open mind where the outsider is concerned. If you haven't the integrity to honor it, then leave and let the fates do with your race what they will."

"I'll honor my promise to Cairna. Now, take me to the woman and let's get on with this charade,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

"Very well,” she muttered. “Be assured your insolence
will
be dealt with. Come with me."

The library doors flew open with the same violence he'd witnessed earlier. Shayla walked through them and up the gray marble staircase. He mechanically followed. She stopped at one of the doors on the second floor.

"The woman inside this room has shown more reason and logic than you've a right to expect. But go in and make an ass of yourself, Tearach. You do it so very well.” The Sorceress stormed down the hall and yet another door slammed.

Eight years ago he'd never dreamed of behaving in such a manner, but now, there was nothing the Sorceress could say or do to threaten him. He squared his shoulders, turned the key in the lock and walked inside.

The woman stood by the fireplace. She wore a pale blue bathrobe. Her blond hair was loosely piled on top of her head, and an image of Venus entered his mind. She was tall, lean and moved toward him with the grace of a cat. The tightly belted robe revealed a small waist and high, full breasts. But it was the color of her eyes which captured him. They were the same unusual aqua shade he'd glimpsed during the kidnapping. In them, he saw wariness and curiosity. But no fear. For some strange reason, that intrigued him. He imagined she'd be cowering in a corner, begging to be set free.

Kathy would remember this moment for the rest of her life. Well over six feet, this man's long, straight hair had an unearthly, blue-black sheen to it. It fell in sheets across exceedingly well-developed shoulders and chest. Strands of the thick stuff fell over eyes so dark there seemed to be no pupils at all. Even his skin was dark, as if he spent time in a tanning salon. The line of his jaw was square and his full lips were set in a determined, straight line. His clothing seemed ordinary enough for someone who kept themselves outdoors. He wore a blue cambric shirt, half open and tucked into blue jeans. His footwear consisted of some kind of leather moccasin. Probably the type that laced up to the knee.

But it wasn't his clothing that revealed the most about him. Her gaze went back to his face. Something about his eyes weren't quite right. The black irises were too large and covered more of the white part than normal. Unless this man was on some kind of drug, there was something wrong with them. She'd never seen anything quite like them and wouldn't have noticed under normal circumstances. But this godlike brute had kidnapped her. She wanted to remember everything she could.

"You're one of the men from the park.” She addressed him first, holding her head up higher as she did so. He wasn't going to get
any
satisfaction from watching her lose control. That's typically what a kidnapper wanted. To control his victim.

"Yes. Have you been told anything about why you've been brought here?"

She swallowed hard at the sound of his deep, masculine voice, which held a note of menace. But she'd been in tough situations before. “I've met someone named Shayla. She's spent most of the day trying to convince me that I can be more useful here than in London ... wherever
here
is. But she won't explain just what it is I'm supposed to do or why you people want me."

She spoke in a low, clear tone. There was nothing in her voice to indicate she was frightened. Tearach moved toward the open windows of the narrow room. A cool breeze blew the filmy curtains to one side. Normally, it would have been calming. In the small room it only set his nerves on edge. When he turned, the woman was right behind him. Her proximity was unexpected. A Goblin's senses were keener than most, and his seemed to have temporarily deserted him.

"Can you tell me what this is about?” she asked.

Damn you, Shayla Gallagher.
He should have known the Sorceress would leave everything for him to explain. “I'm not sure how much I can reveal. But I
can
tell you that you won't be harmed."

She nodded. “I know that. If you'd wanted to hurt me, you'd have done it by now. I wouldn't have been given five-star meals, a beautiful room with a lovely garden view, or a pure silk robe to wear. Someone wants me to be very comfortable. And someone has
excellent
taste in wine. So, I know you don't want me dead. How am I doing so far?"

Tearach was absolutely floored. This woman was taking her abduction in perfect stride, and he found the fact greatly irritating. She should at least be crying or begging to be set free. To take some of the wind out of her sails, he resorted to being blunt. “You'd better sit down, Miss Parker. What I have to say isn't going to be easy to hear."

"So, you know
my
name. Care to share
yours
? Or should I just call you predator?” Kathy sat in the nearest chair. Whoever muscleman was, if he thought he was going to turn her into a helpless, blubbering victim, he had another think coming. Whatever his plans were, someone wanted her alive. Kathy saw his strange eyes narrow and wondered if she'd gone too far.

He walked slowly around the room. The Sorceress could have explained
something
to the woman. How was he supposed to tell her about the creatures in the woods outside, or that she was seeing him in an altered form? He decided the basics would be enough for this first meeting. “My name is Tearach Bruce. You're here to help us."

"I wish I could say it's a pleasure, but you'll understand if it isn't?” She smiled sarcastically and crossed her arms over her chest. “And who exactly is
us
and where is
here
?"

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. The little baggage had a temper, though she was controlling it. At the moment, his wasn't so manageable. Grudgingly, he had to give her credit for nerve. His promise to Cairna came to mind. He took a deep breath and tried to be tactful. “I can't tell you where you are. As to who
we
are ... You might say you're in the middle of a world of misfits, Miss Parker."

She nodded, stood up and looked him straight in the eyes. “You know someone's going to come looking for me, don't you?"

"Actually, I'm fairly sure they won't. You're new in London, your rent and utilities are paid by bank draft, and you currently work as a temporary secretary. You have no family or friends here. Your employer will replace you with someone else when you don't show up. In short, Miss Parker, no one is looking for you."

He had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen and her jaw slightly drop. Then he saw a nerve in her jaw pulse and pain darken her gaze. But it was quickly hidden and her mask of controlled anger slid back into place. He gave her points for composure.

"All right. Whoever you are, you've done your homework. Since you know all about me, you know I have no money or anything else of value.” She stalked to the windows and stared outside. “What could I possibly do to help you, and what incentive would I possibly have for doing so?"

"Perhaps the incentive to survive?"

She slowly turned and her gaze was icy. “There are worse things than not surviving, Mr. Bruce. You'll have to do better than that. And, as I've already pointed out, if you wanted me dead, I would be."

He knew there truly
were
worse things than death. What event had taught this haughty beauty that particular lesson? She wasn't hiding her emotions any longer. She was enraged and that made her dangerous. Looking into those glacial eyes, he truly believed the threat of harm wouldn't work on her. She simply wasn't wired that way. He tried another tack. “I'm not in a position to promise you anything. But if you cooperate, I can try to get you released from this room."

"What would my cooperation entail?"

"A promise to not try to escape. It isn't as if you'd get far at any rate. The forest surrounding this building is very large and well guarded."

She shook her head. “I'll run the first chance I get, and I'll fight anyone who tries to stop me."

"Why not lie and tell me otherwise?” he asked, intrigued by her honesty.

"My part in this little play requires that I try to escape. That's the way it works. You kidnap someone, and they try to get away.” She paused. “Now, I'm going to ask again. What on Earth could you want with me? I'm a
secretary
. I don't have access to national secrets, affairs of the royal household or the weather forecast. Why was I kidnapped?"

Herne, she was bold!
As the minutes ticked by, he found himself impressed with her when he didn't want to be. It irked him no end. “In time, you'll understand everything."

He quickly turned to leave before she could say anything else he didn't want to hear. Something else that could actually make him admire her grit.

"What about your offer to let me out of this room?"

"What about
your
promise to try to escape?” He stopped when he reached the door, giving her time to relent. She stared at him, and he felt a measure of satisfaction when her gaze finally dropped.

"All right,” she sighed, “I won't try to run ... for
now."

He didn't believe her for an instant. Kathleen didn't know that Shayla would let her out of the room sooner or later anyway. It was pure pride that made him want to hear her concede, and he was confused as to why it mattered. But it somehow did. “I'll come for you tomorrow evening. Shayla will see you have the proper clothing."

He walked out the door and locked it behind him. More guards would have to be posted. Kathleen Parker wasn't beyond using bed sheets or anything else she could find to get out of the castle.

* * * *

"I suppose it's too soon for her to see us as we really are,” Cairna said.

"That would be a reasonable supposition,” Tearach replied. “Everyone she sees will remain in human form until Shayla says otherwise.

"But what about those who
can't
alter their appearance?"

"That's Shayla's problem. She started this; she can see to the details.” Tearach shrugged into his leather jerkin. If he couldn't appear in Goblin form, he was going to make himself as comfortable as possible. In the Shire's sacred forests, the inhabitants had always worn leather clothing for protection and because it was tradition. No outsider was going to make him change that habit. Sooner or later, the invincible Miss Parker was going to get a good look at all of them the way the Goddess intended. Having to rearrange their nocturnal customs for one woman was aggravating. Better to let her see what and who they were, but Shayla wanted to spare the poor woman's sensibilities.
Hah!
Kathleen Parker needed
sparing
the way a cat needed extra claws.

"Uncle Tearach, you'll try to act civilized, won't you? And do you really need that?” she asked, watching him slide his knife into one tall boot.

He stopped what he was doing and glared at her. “So I'm uncivilized now?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I just thought if you made a good impression..."

He was about to tell her he didn't give a flying bat's ass whether or not he made any kind of impression on Kathleen Parker. But he'd made a promise to try to keep an open mind. Right now, he was having a very difficult time understanding how to go about it and keep a semblance of pride. “I'll try not to kill anything with my teeth and eat it in front of her. Will that do?"

"I'm sorry, Uncle Tearach,” she whispered. “That was incredibly rude. I didn't mean it the way it came out."

Immediately sorry for his sarcasm, he sighed heavily and hugged her. “Why does my relationship with this woman mean so much to you, Cairna?"

She shrugged. “I just want things to work out, that's all."

He tilted her head up with one finger. “Sweetheart, when she finds out what we are, there'll never be any relationship."

"But you're supposed to..."

"I
know
what I'm supposed to do with her. Everyone keeps forgetting one small detail."

"What's that?” Cairna asked as she straightened his leather collar.

"No matter what anyone wants or orders anyone else to do, all the gods and goddesses of the forest can't make this woman bear a child she doesn't want."

He kissed Cairna's forehead and left the cottage.

The Sorceress was in for a rude awakening when this whole thing failed. Even if his mind was as open as the sky above, no one could control Kathleen Parker's. Why couldn't Shayla see that? He'd always attributed the Sorceress with extraordinary wisdom, had always insisted that his people honor her position and power. But his respect for Shayla was rapidly waning. The Sorceress’ actions even had his beloved niece questioning him. And that hurt.

He walked through the evening forest toward the castle. What could he say to this woman, this outsider? Nothing in his life had prepared him for this task. Maybe he could turn his head and let her escape. But he wouldn't put it past Shayla to go find her. Or find someone else to take her place.

A guard outside the main entrance unlocked the door as he approached. He made his way to Kathleen's room, knocked and heard Shayla's voice bid him enter. Evidently, the Sorceress had been speaking to the woman. When he entered the room, Shayla gave him a stern look and then stalked out. Since their altercation, she didn't even take time to act civilly. That was a bridge best left burned.

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