Lie Down with Dogs (27 page)

“Then do you think the best thing for this realm is to cut the tethers and fortify the threshold?”

“For this realm?” He nodded. “That is without a doubt the best solution.”

As much as I wanted to take that answer and run, it was wrong. “But not for Faerie.”

“The houses will divide,” he predicted. “Factions will rise, alliances will crumble. There will be bloodshed. Innumerable lives will be lost.” Regret threaded his voice. “You can’t change the nature of beasts. I might walk like a man and talk like one, but I also run with a pack and howl at the moon. I would go insane if I were confined to one skin, and my laws have confined too many for too long.”

“You saved Faerie from the Thousand Years War.” He saved her from herself. “It might still be raging without you.”

“I was the law for an age.” He cast me a meaningful glance. “But that age has passed.”

Seeing where this was headed, I reiterated, “I don’t want to rule.”

“Until that All Hallows’ Eve, what I wanted most was to return to my kennel with a full belly.”

A knock on the door allowed me to swallow the smartass reply forming in my mind.

Mac didn’t turn his head, but his nostrils flared. “I expected you sooner, Shaw.”

“Someone
accidentally
charmed the lock on the magistrates’ chamber doors.” Shaw sidestepped my father and stationed himself against the wall on my left. “Is everything all right in here, Thierry?”

Cold magic radiated from Mac as he faced Shaw. “Do you think I would hurt her?”

Shaw rolled a shoulder. “Twenty-four hours ago, I thought you were a cat.”

My glare transferred onto him. “That’s twenty-three hours longer than I’ve known he wasn’t.”

“He would have told you,” Mac admitted. “I forbade it.”

“She deserved to know.” White flickered in Shaw’s eyes. “You let her walk into an ambush.”

“I agree.” The runes on Mac’s hand burned brighter. “That doesn’t change the necessity of it.”

I angled myself between them. “Where did they break things off up there?”

“They started bickering after you left.” He sounded unsurprised. “Nothing will be resolved for days, if not weeks, if the magistrates keep hemming and hawing. Besides, all eleven votes are required for any motion to carry. That means Mr. Sullivan must be present at the polling and his vote tallied.”

Mac grimaced in response.

With a nod, I put the same question to Shaw I had to Mac. “What do you think of their plan?”

“The magistrates are looking for a noble excuse. King Moran’s death—and now this latest news of the Morrigan—gave it to them.” He raked his long fingers through his tousled hair. “Magistrates are powerful by this realm’s standards, but it’s no secret that affluent families in Faerie place their spare heirs, bastards and screw-ups into those roles to protect them and to keep up appearances. For most magistrates, their position is the most power and influence they can hope to wield in their lifetime. I doubt any of them want to share it with their siblings and rivals if the war spills over into this realm.”

“You expect the vote to swing toward severing the tethers and reinforcing the threshold.”

“Yes,” he said grimly. “I do.”

Our gazes held until his eyes warmed to molten copper, and the edges of the room turned hazy.

My father cleared his throat. Loudly. “I should return upstairs.”

I didn’t disagree with him.

Mac paused on the landing, head lifting and nostrils flaring, scenting the air.

I shot a panicked look at Shaw and mouthed
Mom
.

The seconds Shaw hesitated made intervention unnecessary. Mac turned and climbed the stairs back up to the magistrates’ chambers, leaving Mom safe and none-the-wiser downstairs.

After a nod from me, Shaw closed the door behind him and reactivated the privacy spell. A nifty trick since he shouldn’t have known the Word keyed to my office.

“That was close,” I breathed out on a sigh.

“You can’t protect them from each other.”

I hated when he was right.

“So—” I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling, “—what’s your take on the festivities?”

He rubbed the base of his neck. “All the collective power in this realm is upstairs in that room.”

My exhale puffed out my cheeks. “This is really happening.”

“Your line of succession has been broken.” He sounded relieved.

I wasn’t ready to relax yet. “I’m still not free.”

“As long as you care, you’re never free.” He stepped closer. “They can always drag you back in.”

“So, we sneak into Faerie, destroy the tethers, reinforce the threshold and go home.” I folded my arms. “We separate families, alienate goodwill toward the magistrates and leave a war zone behind.”

He stopped an arm’s length away and braced his legs apart, making it plain if I wanted closer to him, I had to do the walking. “The only alternative is to wait and see, and if we wait, we won’t see the Morrigan coming until it’s too late. As cutthroat as the magistrates’ strategy is, it’s this realm’s best hope for survival. Hundreds of thousands or more fae, half-blood and human lives would be saved.”

Lives like my mother’s.

Mom had no chance against the types of fae who would inevitably jump realms in search of fresh hunting grounds. Old creatures like Linen, who had been kept in check by Mac’s laws, would be answerable only to the Morrigan. The prospect of an all-you-can-eat corpse buffet made me doubtful she would step in to prevent the slaughter of innocents.

“This is the right thing to do.” I tested the words.

No dice. I still didn’t believe them. Not entirely.

“It is.” He lent his surety to mine.

“I don’t trust him.” I didn’t need to say who. “He’s up to something.”

“He’s the Black Dog.”

“Yes.” I exhaled. “He is.”

“I won’t let him out of my sight in Faerie long enough for him to mark a tree,” Shaw promised.

“You’re going?” I stepped toward him. “Is that allowed?”

He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “I explained our situation to them.”

“Oh.” Tingles spread through my cheeks.

“Bare bones,” he assured me.

The skeletons in both our closets were dancing a jig now. “You told them I was your compeer?”

Pale skin rushed up his throat and into his cheeks. White haunted the rims of his eyes. “No.” His voice went hoarse. “I would never do that to you. That is your decision. I wouldn’t make it for you.”

Right there, that was the difference between Rook and Shaw. Rook got what he wanted through the manipulation of circumstance. Helping me achieve my goals—like staying alive—had benefited his endgame.

Don’t get me wrong. Shaw had manipulated me too, and that stung. It still pissed me off that, in the grand and boneheaded tradition of men who thought they knew best for their women, he had made a bad situation
much
worse by lying. He made a life-altering decision for me, just like Rook. But Shaw had almost died to save me from the exact same cage Rook had rushed me into and then barred the door closed behind me.

I knew then I didn’t need a couch or ginger beer or a perfect afternoon of contemplation to make the call. Life was not perfect. Making my decision based on an ideal that wasn’t realistic was foolish.

I rolled onto my toes and brushed my lips against Shaw’s.

White swallowed his irises and his body jerked, electrified. “What was that for?”

“You’re a smart guy.” I tilted my head back. “Figure it out.”

The fingers of his left hand tangled in my hair. “You decided.”

My smile broadened. “I did.”

He searched my face. “To be with me.”

Caught by him, I cut my gaze from left to right. “I don’t see anyone else here.”

His right hand cradled my cheek, and he lowered his forehead to mine. “This won’t be easy.”

I turned my face into his palm and nipped it. “Nothing worth having ever is.”

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Thierry’s story concludes in the novel
Old Dog, New Tricks
.

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D
ear Readers,

When I wrote
Heir of the Dog
as the first book in the Black Dog Trilogy, I planned Thierry's journey to span those three novels and no more. But then I attended the RT Booklovers Convention, and all that changed.
Heir
won the American Idol Contest, and that brought two agents with fresh ideas into the mix. The next thing I knew, the trilogy had expanded to include one more title –
Dog with a Bone.

Dog with a Bone
is a prequel to the series in the sense that the novella cuts a hole into the ceiling of Thierry's past and gives us a glimpse of those first steps that set the events of the trilogy into motion one year later.

With that in mind, I hope you have fun meeting Thierry as a bright-eyed cadet in
Dog with a Bone
and enjoy watching her mature through
Heir of the Dog, Lie Down with Dogs
and
Old Dog, New Tricks
into a woman who knows when laws should be upheld and when they are meant to be broken.

Best,

Hailey Edwards

A
cupcake enthusiast and funky sock lover possessed of an overactive imagination, Hailey lives in Alabama with her handcuff-carrying hubby, her fluty-tooting daughter and their herd of dachshunds.

Chat with Hailey on
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, or swing by her
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.

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Copyright Information

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N
o part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying without written permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical articles or reviews and pages where permission is specifically granted by the publisher or author.

Lie Down with Dogs

© 2015 by Hailey Edwards

All rights reserved.

Edited by
Sasha Knight

Cover by
Damonza

Interior format by
The Killion Group