Harlequin Nocturne May 2016 Box Set (49 page)

“I can't leave Ronab.” The imp's side-to-side eyelids fluttered.

Lorcan felt for a pulse in Ronab's neck. Raimo watched him, his hopeful expression fading pathetically when Lorcan shook his head. “There's nothing more you can do for him.”

With a gulp and a nod, Raimo released his friend's body. Giving Moncoya's unconscious form a sharp kick in the ribs, he grasped him by the wrists and dragged him out of the cottage. Lorcan grabbed the bloody knife that was still protruding from Ronab's neck. With a sharp twist, he pulled it out of the imp's flesh and wiped it on Ronab's shirt.

“Sorry I'm a bit late to the party, guys.” Lorcan sized up the situation. The tiger's teeth were bared in a furious snarl. “One of us needs to get on its back.”

“It's not a fucking fairground pony,” Jethro muttered as the huge cat lunged again.

Ignoring him, Lorcan tossed the knife to Cal before circling the tiger. The animal sensed his intention and followed his movement, snarling and lashing at him. Cal and Jethro distracted it by shouting and banging on the table and, when it turned their way again, Lorcan threw himself onto it, clinging to the thick pelt of its back for all he was worth. The tiger roared in fury, lunging and rearing as it attempted to throw him off. Lorcan managed to stay on and get a hand up so he could reach for its eyes.

Cal and Jethro smashed up the table and were coming at the tiger using the wooden legs as clubs. Cal also had the long-bladed knife extended in front of him. Slowed by Lorcan's weight on its back, and his fingers gouging its eyes, the tiger promptly vanished, leaving Lorcan sprawling on the floor.

“Tricky bastard,” he muttered. “What's his next prank going to be?”

They didn't have to wait long to find out. Seconds later, Jethro jerked uncontrollably before dropping to the floor clutching at his throat. As Lorcan and Cal hurried to his aid, Iago materialized again. The smaller man was holding his hands around Jethro's throat and, as they watched, their much larger, more powerful friend shook him off and grappled with him. As the two men rolled around on the floor, Lorcan struggled to see what was happening.

“He's doing it again,” Cal pointed out. “He's transforming himself into Jethro, so we can't figure out which one is which.”

Sure enough, when the two beings on the floor separated, they were identical. Twin Jethro figures started to get to their feet, eying each other in horror. “This is taking showing off to a whole new level,” one of them commented in a long-suffering voice.

That was good enough for Lorcan and he drop-kicked the one who had spoken in the side of the head before he could rise any farther. The fake Jethro toppled to the floor in a heap.

“How did you know I was the real one?” Jethro pointed to the figure at his feet. “That could easily have been me.”

“He looked like you, he even sounded like you. But he couldn't do pissed off and sarcastic the way you can.”

Iago groaned and then promptly disappeared. “For God's sake, what next?” Cal asked. “Even Niniane wasn't this slippery.”

“Over there. That's what.” Jethro pointed.

A huge falcon, Cal's own animal familiar, appeared on the step just inside the cottage. Spreading its wings wide, it cocked its head jauntily, as though mocking them, before taking flight. They watched it soar off into the blue sky, where it circled the village once in a defiant gesture.

Lorcan turned to Cal. “Will he go after Stella?”

“He might try, but she's not at the palace. I didn't want to leave her there without me, so I sent her away. He won't be able to get at her.” Cal studied the sky again, watching as the falcon became a distant speck before disappearing. “Not this time. But something tells me we haven't seen the last of Iago.”

* * *

Dusk had fallen when they finally sat around the open fire on the village green, eating Ailie's delicious stew and drinking her home-brewed beer. Moncoya was securely locked up in one of the empty cottages, and the plan was for Cal and Jethro to take him back to be imprisoned in his own palace dungeons on the following morning. There he would stand trial for his crimes and, if found guilty, he would be executed.

“I will arrange for Ronab's funeral to take place here in the village burial ground.” Lorcan shook his head. “It's hit Raimo hard. They were inseparable. He'll find it difficult to commit as many crimes on his own.”

Tanzi decided it was time to bring up the topic they were all avoiding. “What will you do about King Ivo's heir?” she asked Cal.

He threw her a grateful glance. “Now I know he exists, I can't just ignore him. As the leader of the Alliance, I have to take that information back to the council members. I think we should make a push to find him. He may be the very person we need to restore peace to the faerie dynasty and, at the same time, to Otherworld.”

With a furious sound, Vashti threw her plate down on the grass and stomped off into the lowering darkness. “It is harder for her to visualize the end of Moncoya's reign,” Tanzi explained. “She has not been directly on the receiving end of my father's villainy as I have. I know from experience she is best left alone in this mood.”

“We still have the problem of how to find the challenger,” Lorcan said.

“The Norn said you already know who the true heir is,” Tanzi reminded him.

“But I don't.” Lorcan ran a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration. “I swear it. If I knew who he was, I would tell Cal. I learned nothing of him on my journey.”

“Yet the Norn cannot lie.”

“No, they can only bloody interfere.” Lorcan's mouth thinned to a hard line and he slid his arm around Tanzi's shoulders, drawing her close. “When I think how close I came to losing you because of them,
Searc
.”

“Yes, they are good at meddling.” Cal nodded his agreement. “Nevertheless, because of them, we
are
slightly closer to the true heir. If we accept that the Norn must be telling the truth, then it has to be someone known to Lorcan.”

“Could be anyone.” Lorcan shrugged. “Although there is something else. I almost forgot. Ailie told me he doesn't look like a sidhe.”

“Great.” Jethro started to laugh. “How old are you, Lorcan? We just have to get you to remember everyone you've ever met over the centuries and eliminate those who look like sidhes. Anyone who is left is a possibility.”

“The Norn said the truth would be found on Avalon,” Tanzi said.

“Oh, yes. I was forgetting. The most dangerous place in either world.” Cal's voice took on a reminiscent note. “Home to Morgan le Fay and, if he's telling the truth, our delightful new acquaintance, Iago the Trickster. I won't be going back there in a hurry.”

Lorcan held up his hands in a warding-off gesture. “Don't look at me either.”

Jethro grinned. “What you guys need is a mercenary. A powerful sorcerer who's seen what Iago can do and isn't afraid to stand up to him. Now, where will you get yourselves one of those, I wonder?”

Cal laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “I'll put it to the council. In the meantime, after all this excitement, I need a good night's sleep.”

Cal and Jethro made their way to the guest cottage Ailie had made ready for them. Lorcan rose to his feet, reaching down a hand to help Tanzi up from the grass. He held her against him for a moment, resting his cheek on her hair.

“I don't know where to start.”

She tilted her head so that she could look at him. “You got it wrong.”

“I know—”

She silenced him by placing her finger on his lips. “I got it wrong, too. We don't need to analyze it.” She stood on the tips of her toes so that she could replace her finger with her mouth, kissing him long and hard. “Let's try not to do it again. Now, tell me how much you love me.”

His laugh was shaky. “That could take some time.”

“We've got forever.”

“That's just it. Before you, I had forever and it meant nothing. All those empty years, but I wasn't really living them. You've shown me what it is to be alive, Tanzi. Other people would have looked at me and said I was happy. Although I put on a good act, I was dead inside. You've taught me how to smile, what to say, how to love. I found my heart again because of you.” His eyes were earnest as they searched her face. “I'm just scared all I have won't be enough for you.”

Sharp tears prickled the backs of her eyelids. “Until I met you, I was a china doll, caught up in a world where all that mattered were looks and status. I didn't know how to feel even the simplest emotions. Now I have my love for you, and that means more than any material belongings. When you say my name, when you take my hand, when you hold me close at night...those are my precious possessions. Our future together, this child we have made...that is my silver and gold. All I want is you.” She took his hand. “Now take me home.”

CHAPTER 22

V
ashti sighed. It was no good. She couldn't sleep, and it wasn't just because the mattress was hard and a quarter of the size of her own bed at home in the faerie palace. No, it was the thought of her father locked up like a common criminal just yards away.

She accepted now that the stories about him must be true. Even if she hadn't heard the accounts of his war crimes and atrocities against the faeries who opposed him, what he'd attempted to do to Tanzi proved beyond doubt he was a monster.
But he's
my
monster. Can I let him go to his trial, probably to be executed, without at least hearing what he has to say?
She decided not. Throwing aside the blankets covering her legs, she slid from the bed and hurriedly threw on her clothes. Aware that Jethro and Cal were sleeping in the next room, Vashti tiptoed carefully past their door and out into the inky darkness of the Spae night.

Tripping and stumbling over boulders and tree roots, she made her way to the isolated cottage where they had imprisoned Moncoya earlier that night. Aware that Raimo was guarding the front of the building, Vashti made her way around to the rear of the property. The wooden shutters over the window could be unlatched from the outside. Holding her breath in case the slightest noise alerted the imp guard, she found the window itself was easily pried open. Was Tanzi really considering coming to live in such a primitive society? The thought of her sister, feted and admired Princess Tanzi of the designer clothes and celebrity lifestyle, living in this backwater made Vashti choke back a derisive laugh. Love! They said it made you blind. She hadn't realized until now that it also rendered you stupid.

“My father?” Vashti whispered the words as she wriggled through the window and then dropped into a crouch in the darkened room on the other side. Had Cal posted a guard inside the cottage, as well? She could take out the imp or one of the Spae with a single punch. Jethro or Lorcan might be more of a problem. Either way, brawling with her father's captors in the middle of the night wouldn't look good. Remembering she was the faerie representative on the Alliance could be such an inconvenience at times.

A chain clanked, and Vashti felt cold fury spike through her veins. They had dared to chain the King of the Faeries?

“Vashti?” She followed the sound of Moncoya's answering murmur. These cottages all had the same unimaginative layout. He was in the small bedroom. By the light of a candle, she could see him sitting on the narrow bed. His hands were tied behind his back and there was an iron shackle around his left ankle. This was attached to a short length of chain that had, in turn, been secured to the leg of the bed. Even in these circumstances and in spite of his swollen and bruised features, Moncoya managed to look broodingly handsome. A smile lit his eyes when he saw her. She pressed a finger to her lips and he kept his voice low. “It is good to know that one of my daughters, at least, still remembers her duty to me.”

A wry smile lifted one corner of Vashti's mouth. Even after everything he had done, his charm was irresistible. “You are fairly unforgettable.”

“Your sister appears to think otherwise.”

“To be fair, you have just attempted to marry her off to the devil. When that didn't work, you tried to persuade her to give her unborn baby to Satan instead. She's hardly likely to be thinking warm fuzzy thoughts toward you right about now.”

Moncoya frowned. “If Tanzi had been dutiful, none of this would have happened.”

Vashti shook her head. He would never change. He couldn't accept his own faults. Would never admit he had a fault. It was that arrogance that was likely to get him executed in the near future. “Tanzi said you killed our mother.”

His eyes narrowed. There was a beat while he considered her statement. Then Moncoya gave a regretful shake of his tousled head. “She said that?” He tried to squirm into a more upright position. “Will you do something for me? These bonds around my wrists are so tight they are cutting off the circulation. Can you loosen them?”

Vashti regarded him suspiciously. Moncoya returned her stare without blinking. It couldn't hurt to do as he asked, could it? As long as he was tied up, there was no reason why he had to be in pain. Moving around so that she was behind him, Vashti knelt on the floor beside the bed so that she could see the ropes that bound his wrists. It was difficult in the flickering candlelight. Moncoya didn't help the situation by straining to look over his shoulder at what she was doing.

“Whoever tied these knots knew what they were doing.” Vashti found it difficult to get a grip on the thick twine.

“It was that bastard half-breed.”

“I take it you are referring to your brother, Merlin Caledonius?” One of the knots was beginning to give and she worked determinedly at it.

“In a moment of madness my father lay with a mortal woman. The sorcerer who is the result of that mania may call me brother, but it is not a connection to which I will ever own. Can't you go faster?”

“Almost done. There. Just hold still while I—” The words froze on her lips as, lightning fast, Moncoya freed his hands from the loosened restraints and caught hold of her, his hand encircling her upper arm. Vashti shook her head as he rose to his feet, hauling her with him. “No, letting you go was not part of the deal.”

“Too late, my daughter.” His face was inches from hers, his smile mocking. “Are you going to fight me? Try to tie me up once more?”

Vashti swallowed hard. “If I have to.”

“I would advise against it.” Reaching into his belt with his free hand, Moncoya withdrew another slim-bladed knife similar to the one he had used to kill Ronab. Looking into the eyes she knew so well, Vashti knew for certain he wouldn't hesitate to use it on her.
He would slit my throat without hesitation or regret. He would kill me as easily as he did the imp...and our mother.
Because she knew now what Tanzi had told her was true. If she had ever really doubted it. “Help me get free of this chain.”

“I don't have a key.” Vashti's mind darted wildly through her options. She could cry out to the imp guard. But if he came running in here Moncoya would kill them both and still get away. If she called to Raimo to fetch Cal, her father would still have time to use the knife on her before escaping. Could she contact Tanzi telepathically? That would require all her concentration...

“Lift the end of the bed so that I can slide the chain off.”

“It will still be attached to your ankle.”

“Stop arguing and do it! Once I am free of this cursed island I'll worry about getting rid of the unfashionable ankle bracelet.”

Conscious of the knife close to her throat, Vashti did as he ordered. Moncoya slid the chain off the leg of the bed. As she lowered the bed once more, the grin she knew of old lit his features. “So they thought they could tether the greatest leader Otherworld has ever known? Fools.” He gestured with the knife. “Lie facedown on the bed. Don't look so nervous. I'm only going to tie you up.”

Within minutes, Vashti was trussed up in his place, her hands secured behind her back. Moncoya removed the pillowcase and stuffed its corner into her mouth. Then with the loose end of the chain slung casually over his shoulder like a scarf, he made his way out of the bedroom. Vashti heard him climbing out through the same window she had used to enter.

Tanzi!
It was no good. Her thoughts were too panicky, her mind still focused on what Moncoya was doing and not on her sister. She pictured him sneaking through the outskirts of the village, taking the path down to the beach, wading out to the point where he had left his dinghy and looking back with a gloating smile as he sailed away. She tried wriggling her hands around to see if she could loosen the rope, but Moncoya had made sure there was no possibility of her getting free.
Lie still. Concentrate on Tanzi.
Just as she was trying to force herself to do that, a voice outside caught her attention.

“All quiet in there?” It was Jethro. “Prisoner behaving himself?” She didn't hear Raimo's reply. “Really? That doesn't sound like him. I think I'll take a look just to be sure.”

Vashti felt her cheeks flame with humiliation. Why did it have to be
him
? Why couldn't Cal, or even Lorcan, have been the one to come along and find her in this position? She tensed, waiting for the outburst. Jethro's footsteps approached the bedroom, the door opened and he paused on the threshold. She felt his gaze on her, even though she couldn't see him.

“I suppose this was to be expected.”

“Mnnnf?” Vashti craned her head at a painful angle. All she could see was a pair of long, muscular thighs encased in black denim.

“Daddy's precious princess taking his place while he gets away. Quite a masquerade. We should have foreseen it and locked you both up together.”

Vashti made a furious sound into her gag and struggled wildly against the restraints.

“Sorry, I don't have time for conversation. I've got a dangerous criminal to recapture.”

Was he leaving her? Vashti couldn't quite believe it was happening, but—sure enough—Jethro walked away. She heard his voice again, giving instructions to Raimo. Rage, pure and undiluted, flooded through her. How dare he treat her like this? And how dare he make assumptions about her? One thing was for sure... Jethro de Loix was going to be very, very sorry for tonight's actions.

Before long, there were signs of activity outside the cottage. Vashti heard voices and sounds of people running. It was evident a search was under way. Some minutes later, another footstep sounded inside the room and Vashti recognized Tanzi's voice in the startled exclamation her sister gave. Tanzi hurried over and removed the gag from Vashti's mouth before untying her hands.

“What happened?”

Unaccustomed tears pricked the backs of Vashti's eyelids and she blinked them hurriedly away. “He tricked me.”

“Jethro thought...” Tanzi trailed off at the blaze of fury that made Vashti bound up from the bed.

“Jethro! Just wait until I get my hands on that slimy bastard. I'll rip his heart out, stuff it down his throat, then make him take back every judgmental word.”

“To be fair, with his heart in his throat, he might find it difficult to talk.”

“Don't you dare laugh at me, Tanzi.” Vashti had started to pace the small room like an enraged wildcat, but she paused to glare at her sister.

Tanzi held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I wouldn't dream of it.”

Vashti bit her lip. “Did he get away?”

Lorcan walked in at that moment. “Looks like it,” he said in answer to her question. “His boat is gone.”

Vashti's cheeks flamed. “Can you go after him?”

“That's what Cal and Jethro are debating. Jethro's inclined to go for it, but Cal's wary. We don't know what firepower Moncoya's craft has, how many sidhes are waiting close by or where Iago is.
Igraine
is fast, but she's not equipped for a fight.” He cocked his head at the sound of approaching voices. “Looks like Cal prevailed.”

Suddenly, the room appeared even smaller as the other sorcerers entered. Cal and Lorcan were both tall and muscular, but the sheer rippling power of Jethro's frame had a tendency to make Vashti's breath catch slightly. It was a reaction that annoyed her.
I refuse to be dazzled by him.
Tonight, she was even less inclined to find him impressive. She stormed up to him, stopping with the point of her finger pressed deep enough into his chest to leave an indentation. “Apologize.”

“Why? For believing you could be trusted?” His eyes, dark as midnight, but lit with flecks of lighter gold, gazed into hers briefly. It was a contemptuous expression that made her blood reach boiling point in an instant. “Yeah, that was dumb. I'm sorry we fell for it.”

Vashti made a strangled sound in her throat and launched herself at him. She was prevented from attacking him by Cal, who caught her deftly by her upper arms. “Let's just cool things down here, shall we? Moncoya would like nothing more than to see us at each other's throats.”

“Make him take it back.” Vashti could barely recognize the snarling, panting sounds her own voice made. No one had ever roused her to anger as quickly and easily as Jethro, and the fact that he managed to do it while staying calm himself infuriated her further.

“Jethro?” Cal looked across at where the mercenary was now leaning his broad shoulders against the wall. His arms were folded across his chest, and he was regarding Vashti with a combination of amusement and scorn.

“Oh, come on. Why would she come here in the middle of the night if not to help Daddy Dearest get away?”

Every eye turned to Vashti. She felt the weight of their stares. Why
had
she come here? “I wanted to hear it from him...about our mother.” She looked directly at Tanzi.

“And did you?”

“Not exactly. But I know it's the truth. I know he killed her.” Vashti swallowed hard. “He would have killed me tonight if I'd resisted.”

Cal risked releasing his grip on her arms and she stood still, her frame trembling with a different sort of tension now. “Can we draw a line under these allegations?” Cal raised a brow in Jethro's direction.

Jethro shrugged. “You're the boss.”

“That's not an apology.” Vashti felt some of her strength seeping back alongside her renewed indignation.

“Best you're going to get.” White teeth flashed in a grin. It was the one that made him look like a pirate. The one that made her want to smash her fist into his mouth. Over and over.

“Subject closed.” No one did authoritative better than Cal. “I suggest we all try to make the most of what's left of tonight by getting some sleep. In the morning, we can talk further about what needs to be done.” Cal stretched and yawned, before heading off in the direction of the other cottage.