The Phoenix Charm (19 page)

“If I’d known what Dragon would do, I’d have got you out of here sooner,” Devin replied softly. “I never dreamed he’d…I’m sorry.”

Michael’s heart twisted to see the distress on Cordelia’s face every time someone mentioned Dragon’s name. Nightshade’s father had better not show his face in Cornwall.

After pulling on his jacket, Michael stepped closer to Cordelia while she settled Tamsy in her bag. They’d only known each other properly for a few days, yet he needed to touch her in a way he’d never needed to touch a woman before. Not sexual touch, although he wanted that as well, but to shelter her and reassure her. He clenched his fists in his pockets to stem the urge to pull her into the protective circle of his arms. Seeing her hurting and being unable to ease her pain nearly killed him.

“Cordelia.” She glanced up, and he smiled. “Penny for them,” he said gently.

She squeezed her eyes closed. “I don’t think now’s the time or place.”

He touched her arm, the barest brush of his fingertips. When she didn’t pull away, some of the weight riding his shoulders eased.

Shadows fell across the room and he dragged his gaze from her to stare at the window. The brilliant blue sky dimmed to gray, then faded to solid black, unrelieved even by the normal scattered pinpricks of starlight.

Devin walked toward the door. “The wild hunt is on the move. Time to go.”

“Tell me we don’t have to go back to that damn council chamber,” Nightshade said.

Devin nodded grimly. “That’s why I’ve been waiting. We need the hounds out of the kennels and in the air before we risk entering the chamber. If we leave now, the timing should be about right.”

Michael stayed at the back, herding the group into the hallway.

“Everyone normally keeps out of the way during the hunt, so we shouldn’t meet anyone.” Devin paused before he crossed the quadrangle. “All right bringing up the rear, Michael?”

“Aye.”

“Let’s go then.”

While they ran across the open space, Michael scanned the sky, wondering what the hunt looked like in full cry. He hoped he wouldn’t find out.

When they reached the door on the other side, Devin paused long enough for them to catch up. Once they moved on, Eloise couldn’t keep up. Nightshade slowed with her, and glanced back at Michael. “Curse this injured shoulder. Will you carry Rhys for us?”

Michael trotted up beside her and lifted Rhys from her arms. “’Tis all right, lass,” he said in response to her worried frown. “I’ll not go letting anything happen to him.”

The cute little lad stared up at him, blinking his silver eyes. Michael’s chest tightened. So much had happened to him since his father had carried Finian to safety; he’d hardly given his nephew a thought. He longed to be back in the nursery at Trevelion Manor so he could cuddle the twins and make sure Fin hadn’t suffered any ill effects from his time in the Underworld.

The group arrived at the council chamber panting. Devin raised a hand and everyone fell silent. “Wait here a moment.”
When Devin beckoned him, he passed Rhys back to Eloise and followed his brother.

They halted at the top of the steps, peering down into the darkness where Michael had gone to die. Thememory trembled through him, and he had to consciously steady his heart.

“Can you see in the dark?” he asked Devin.

With a nod, his brother glanced at him. “My night vision is one of the skills that improved when I died the first time. I wonder what powers you gained on resurrection? Have you sensed any changes?”

“No. I’ll think about that when we’re safely home.”

“I only ask because you’ll need every advantage possible if Gwyn sends the hunt after you. Troy says Gwyn doesn’t play by the rules.”

Michael gritted his teeth at mention of their father’s name. “That’s rich coming from him.”

“Troy gives people enough rope to hang themselves, then stands back and watches the show. That’s just his way. Don’t judge what you don’t understand, boy.”

Throwing back his coat skirts, Devin drew his sword and unhooked his Taser from his belt, offering them to Michael.

Michael held the Taser in one hand and the sword in the other, remembering how Niall used to beat the crap out of him with the wooden swords they had as boys. “I think I’ll stick with the Taser,” he said, handing the sword back to Devin.

The idea of zapping Arian somewhere tender made him grin.

Hidden beneath Cordelia’s hair was a lump the size of an egg. While she’d been away from her body, someone must have bumped her head darn hard. She leaned against Thorn, taking comfort from his strong arm around her shoulders.

“You all right, Dee?” he whispered.

She nodded
even
though her head had been throbbing since she’d returned to her body.

She couldn’t tell Thorn as he’d only fuss over her, and she didn’t want Michael to find out. He had enough on his mind without worrying about her as well.

Beside her, Rhys had his chin resting on Eloise’s shoulder, his inquisitive silver eyes fixed on Cordelia, a tiny thumb wedged in his mouth. She couldn’t remember Nightshade ever looking that sweet. The shameful truth was she’d held a grudge against Nightshade for his father’s behavior, even when he was a child. The realization made her flush with guilt.

Nightshade tapped Rhys playfully on the nose and the baby grinned around his thumb. Cordelia’s guilty conscience stung so much, she had to turn away. When Michael had touched her emotions, he’d fractured her carefully erected barriers to hold everyone at a distance so they didn’t hurt her and she didn’t hurt them.

Approaching footsteps echoed along the hallway.

Snapping back to reality, Cordelia pushed Eloise forward and grabbed Thorn’s arm so he didn’t lag behind. She shut the council chamber doors and hurried to the top of the steps where Michael and Devin were talking. “Someone’s coming.”

“Time for you to get going,” Devin said.

“You’re not coming with us?” Michael asked.

“I need to run interference here. Just follow the road markers I’ve explained and you’ll cross the border into England. Gwyn can go anywhere in the Underworld, but in the mortal realm, he’s tied to Wales. I won’t allow anyone to enter the Darkling Road from here until you’re safe. Remember Gwyn can call on the spirits of the dead, so watch your backs. And whatever you do, make sure none of your lot strays from the Darkling Road.”

Michael called the group to him; then Devin embraced him. Now that Cordelia knew they were brothers, she could
see the likeness. Despite the difference in coloring, they both resembled Troy.

“Walking the Darkling Road is like driving in the dark,” Michael said, looking around at them all, his gaze stopping on her. “You can only see as far as the are of your headlights.” He attempted a smile, but his trademark grin looked forced. Would he ever regain his carefree sense of fun, or had this trip robbed him of that forever?

“I’ll go last and keep an eye on everyone,” Nightshade offered.

“Good.” Michael made eye contact with Nightshade and the brief look held a pledge of trust on both sides, man to man. Cordelia suddenly felt left out. She was the pisky wise woman. Michael should be depending on her help, not Nightshade’s. Yet she had chosen to keep her distance from him until she had her feelings straight. She rubbed hertemples, then hugged her cat bag, her conflicting emotions nearly ripping her in half.

To ease her tension, she pushed her swirling allure out into her aura.

Nightshade made a strangled sound and swung around to stare at her. With a startled cry, she dragged her aura in tight to her body. She’d become so used to the freedom of being without her restrictive wards, she’d almost forgotten the danger. She must keep away from the males or risk enticing them.

“I need to walk at the back,” she said.

“No, lass.” When Michael came to her, she dropped her gaze, fearing she’d see disapproval on his face as she always had in her father’s expression.

With a finger, he raised her chin so she had to look at him. “I never thanked you for bringing me back from the dead.”

She blinked at him while she remembered those terrifying minutes when she’d thought she wouldn’t be able to save
him. His hand slid to her cheek and he leaned forward, brushing his lips over hers with a melting whisper of sensation that made her eyelids drift closed and her heart stumble.

“You’ll walk in front of Nightshade, where you’re safe.”

“But I’m not warded.”

His lips pressed together, and his blue eyes scanned her face. “Don’t talk as though you’ve got some terrible disease.”

She shook her head, accidentally on purpose dislodging his finger from her chin so she could look away.

But he wasn’t ready to let her go. He caught her chin again and made her face him. “When we get out of Wales, we’ll talk.”

“There’s nothing—”

“Cordelia Tink, I’ll not be letting you go, lass.” He pinned her with his uncompromising gaze. “So get used to the idea of being bonded to me.”

A shivery burst of surprise ran through her at the authority lacing his words. His eyebrows rose, demanding her response.

“All right,” she whispered.

He nodded and released her chin. She wasn’t sure if he’d used his silver tongue, or if the effect she felt was because of the force of his will. With a glance full of promises, he pressed his lips to the tips of his fingers and blew the kiss her way. Then he strode to the front and led them into the murky obscurity of the Darkling Road, leaving her shaky with expectation.

Cordelia trailed behind Michael, Thorn, Eloise, and Rhys, with Nightshade’s solid presence guarding her back. If she squinted, she could make out a faint route ahead. They seemed to be surrounded by marshland that, oddly, reminded her of the place on the Cornish coast where she thought her mother lived.

The interminable dingy road unrolled before them. Her feet ached. Her head throbbed and nausea crawled up her throat.

“You feeling all right, wise woman?” She was grateful Nightshade kept his voice pitched low.

“My head’s aching. I’ll be fine when we get out of here, and I get some rest.” Each time she blinked, her eyelids stayed closed for longer, until she was almost sleepwalking.

Cordelia.
A female called, softly, sweetly extending each syllable in a singsong voice. The fog to her right thinned to wispy streaks, revealing a reed bed dotted with rippling pools of water that sparkled beneath the moonlight. Thick, fluffy bulrushes grew in clusters. A bat fluttered past, angling around a clump of spiky reeds.

A glowing figure appeared in the middle of the marshland, her diaphanous gown floating in the gentle breeze.

I’ve waited a lifetime for you, my child.

“Mother?”

The water nymph drifted closer. Even as Cordelia watched her elegant approach, she knew this wasn’t possible. Water nymphs could not float in the air. They swam or walked as she did. Yet in the enchantment of the moment, the truth didn’t matter.

Come to me, my child. Let’s spend some time together. Get to know each other. Defy your father.

Cordelia flexed her toes in her shoes, something holding her back even though she ached to step forward and go to the mother she had longed for but never known. During her teens, when she was struggling to come to terms with the restrictions her father and grandmother put on her, she’d spent weeks searching the network of tiny rivers where she thought her mother lived. She had so many questions to ask her.

Out of habit, Cordelia felt for Tamsy’s bag. When it wasn’t resting over her shoulder, she blinked and looked around.

Someone else will care for your cat. She can’t stay with us. She has many more lives to live.

Cordelia shook her head, saying no to something important, she just couldn’t think what. Without forethought, the question she’d kept secret in her heart all her life came to her lips. “Why did you give me up, Mother?”

The ethereal creature sighed with the mournful wail of wind whistling between reeds.
I didn’t give you away, daughter. Your father stole you from me and hid your identity by warding your body.

The wards were to conceal her? Her mind skipped back over her past, but that explanation didn’t make sense.

When I came looking for you, your father killed me. Do not trust these men. They seek to control you, to deny your spirit and your true nature. Leave them and come to me.
She held out her hand and a subtle compulsion pulled at Cordelia.

If she didn’t go to her mother now, she would lose her forever. But her father would never have killed anyone. Confusion tangled her memories and thoughts.

Come, daughter. We will be together at last.
The woman glowed more brightly. Like a beacon in the darkness, she offered answers to questions that had puzzled Cordelia all her life.

Cordelia stepped off the path into the water.

Shadows swarmed out of nowhere, snaking around her body, her face, sucking the spirit from her. Her knees folded, and she sank beneath the dark turmoil. She opened her mouth to call for Michael, but murky streamers streaked between her lips, swallowing the sound.

Michael strode along the Darkling Road, his concentration fixed on the shadowy path unfolding before him, watching for the pale markers that indicated distance and turnings.

He nudged Cordelia’s Magic Knot ring against his chest absentmindedly. The stone was chilly and uncomfortable on his skin. Gradually, the discomfort penetrated his brain. He slowed, pulled the chain outside his T-shirt, and felt the ring.

Cold bit into his fingers. “Ruddy Badba,” he whispered. He’d given up feeling for her after she’d shut him from her mind. He extended his senses and swung around to look for her. Behind him, Thorn had Rhys cradled in his arms. The child blinked sleepily, snuggled in one of Devin’s jackets. Eloise came next, her face gray in the shadowy light. Then the path disappeared into the fog. He couldn’t see Cordelia or feel her.

“Cordelia!” Despite the fact Devin had advised them to be quiet, her name burst from his lips. “Stay with Eloise and don’t move,” he instructed Thorn as he hurried past them.

He backtracked, the tense muscles in his neck tightening with each stride he took without seeing Cordelia or Nightshade. He should have kept a better watch on the group. After five minutes, a dark shape materialized out of the gloom on the road in front of him.

Nightshade kneeled on the ground, the top of Cordelia’s cat bag held closed with the hand of his good arm, while the
bag squirmed and heaved. “Nightshade!” Michael bellowed a few feet from him, yet his friend’s gaze remained unfocused. Michael slapped his cheek.

The stalker blinked and ducked his head away from another blow. “Easy, bard. What’s going on?”

“Where’s Cordelia?”

Nightshade looked around, confused. “I don’t know.”

“You’re holding Tamsy.”

“Oh.” Nightshade frowned and released the top of the bag. Tamsy sprang out like a jack-in-the-box and streaked into the fog at the side of the Darkling Road.

“Shit,” Nightshade said. “I think that tells us where the wise woman’s gone.”

Michael’s heart thudded as he tried to peer through the impenetrable swirling cloud. Tamsy must sense Cordelia even if he couldn’t, but then the cat held her mind and body stones. Cold sweat prickled his skin. Fear scraped his thoughts when he remembered Devin’s warning that the dead could suck the life from mortals.

“Stand up and hang on to me.” Michael reached a hand toward Nightshade, impatiently snapping his fingers while the stalker rose stiffly to his feet.

Finally, Nightshade gripped him. “Whatever happens, don’t let go.” Michael stepped to the edge of the path and leaned into the fog, letting Nightshade take his weight. But the fog was too thick to see through. He pulled himself back and swore.

“I’ll have to step off the path. Give me the bag handle.” He wrapped the strap around his wrist, grabbed a breath as though he was about to dive under water, and stepped off the road. The temperature plummeted, but nothing sinister happened. He took two more steps, until the strap pulled taut.

A few yards in front of him, Tamsy stood among a writhing tangle of shadow snakes. Spitting and his sing, she swiped at them with her claws. Michael watched dumbfounded for a
moment until the truth hit him. Cordelia must be beneath that heaving mass of shadows. He fumbled at his belt for the Taser Devin had given him. His chest burned from lack of oxygen, and he gasped, head pounding as the thin icy air seared his lungs.

Leaning forward, he stretched out his arm but couldn’t reach her. “Damn.” He wriggled his wrist, dropping the bag strap. Then he took two more steps and jabbed the Taser at the shadows. With a hiss and crackle, the wispy assailants shot off into the darkness. A few circled back toward him, but he zapped them again and they dissipated.

Cordelia lay frighteningly still and he wanted to lift her into his arms, but he didn’t dare put away the Taser in case the shadows returned. For speed, he simply grabbed her ankles and, with Tamsy riding on her chest, dragged her the few yards across the soggy ground to the road. A hand grasped his belt and pulled him the last few feet.

As soon as he had her back on the Darkling Road, he dropped to his knees by her side and held his cheek over her mouth, feeling for her breath. Surely, he’d sense if she were dead.

The tense knots in his gut loosened when shallow puffs of air brushed his cheek. “Cordelia.” He stroked her face, lifted her hand to his lips, and pressed his mouth to her chilled skin.

Nightshade kneeled at her other side and touched her hand.

“What happened?” Michael demanded.

The stalker closed his eyes in thought. “The last thing I remember is walking behind her. Then you slapped me.”

“Something must have tempted her off the path.” Michael heaved a sigh, light-headed from worry and lack of sleep. “I must get her out of here and warm her up.”

Tamsy had settled on Cordelia’s chest, her nose nuzzled against her chin. When Michael tried to lift her off, she
hung on to Cordelia’s jacket with her claws and spat at him. “Righty ho, cat. Have it your way.”

Grasping Cordelia beneath her shoulders and knees, he heaved her into his arms, complete with feline passenger. The cat eyed him suspiciously. “You’re going to have to cut me some slack, cat. She’s mine as well now, so learn to share.”

The walk back to find the others passed in a blur. Thorn had Rhys cuddled in one arm with Eloise tucked under the other, her head resting on his chest.

“The chick has found his wing feathers,” Nightshade mumbled, pointing at Thorn.

During the trip, Michael had grown wing feathers as well. The trick wasn’t learning to fly, but learning to stay in the air rather than crash and burn.

His arms ached, but he moved to the front of the group and paced on, glancing regularly over his shoulder to keep everyone in sight.

Relief swept through his weary body when he saw the small white runes on the edge of the path that indicated the exit he wanted. The others gathered behind him while he put a foot on the runes. The fog parted to reveal a dark wooden door.

With his hands full, he had to use his foot to push the door open. The temperature rose as he stepped through. They entered a small room lit only by slivers of light leaking around another door six feet ahead. The acrid smell of chemicals and dust filled the cramped, dark space.

“Eloise, can you get that?” He nodded toward the next door and stepped aside. Hinges creaked a moment before low light penetrated the small room, revealing shelves stacked with janitorial supplies. Nightshade closed the back of the store cupboard hiding the exit from the Darkling Road. Relief surged through Michael, bringing a wave of renewed energy. “We should have come out on the other
side of the River Severn in England. I’m hoping this is Bristol.”

Michael looked down at Cordelia in his arms, and the triumph of escaping Wales dwindled. She was in no fit state to drive back to Cornwall with the others. Once he’d sent them on their way, he must take her somewhere warm and safe to recuperate.

Michael watched Thorn accelerate away in the rental car, and headed back through the revolving hotel door. He dashed across the lobby to the elevator and returned to the room where he’d left Cordelia snuggled beneath the covers of a luxury king-sized bed.

He hung the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the hotel room door because they would probably both sleep through the night and the following day.

Kneeling on the bed, he touched Cordelia’s neck to check her temperature. The thick quilt hadn’t warmed her at all. When he was low, he drew energy from his element earth. He stared at the bathroom door. Cordelia should be able to draw energy from water, and the warmth would give her double benefit.

He went to run a bath and halted with a groan as he took in the ultramodern fittings, with a supersize shower but no bathtub. A hot shower would be better than nothing. He spread fluffy white towels over the ceramic floor, then turned on the water to heat.

She still hadn’t stirred by the time he fetched her from the bed and carried her into the bathroom. Panic ticked in his chest as he laid her body on the towels, her skin pale and waxy. After unlacing her boots, he pulled them off with her socks. Then he sat behind her and raised her between his legs, taking her weight on his chest so he could ease her sweater off over her head. His fingers brushed the puckered skin on her neck where Dragon had savaged her and anger burst through him anew. He stopped, and wrapped her in
his arms, just holding her, praying that after all they’d survived, she would be all right.

He lifted the cord holding his Magic Knot off over her head and hung it back around his own in case it was interfering with her recovery. She had only agreed to bond with him to save his life. He didn’t fool himself that she’d have committed to him otherwise. Yet the link once wrought was unbreakable. He’d be forever bonded to a woman who had a closer spiritual connection with her cat than she did with him.

Even as his breath trailed out in frustration, his gaze slid lower to the ample cleavage visible above her white cotton bra. A little groan escaped him. He’d never been good at restraint. Wriggling back, he laid her down again and crawled forward to unfasten her trousers.

Once he’d stripped her to her underwear, he pulled off his clothes down to his shorts, then carried her into the shower. He sat back against the wall with her sitting between his legs. Using the detachable showerhead, he played the hot spray over her body. He pressed his face to her neck and kissed her scars, wishing he had the gift of healing. Even if he could remove the visible signs of Dragon’s violence, nothing could erase her memories. Unless she let go of what had happened to her when she was a teenager, and trusted him, they could never be truly together. Sex was one of his favorite things, and he wanted to share that pleasure with her.

His lips moved on her shoulder, and his gaze roamed to her breasts. The white cotton bra clung wetly, her pale skin beneath the fabric darkening around her nipples. Desire balled hotly in his belly, raising his pulse, heating his blood.

He grew hard against her bottom so he tipped back his head, hoping the cool surface of the tiles would neutralize the effect. Instead, the lusty images from her divination mirror scrolled back through his memory in full Technicolor, making him ache for release.

“Sweet Anu.” His breath shuddered out on a groan. His
weariness disappeared down the drain with the water as lust energized him. He wanted her so much he could hardly think.

He pressed his mouth to her ear. “Cordelia, sugarplum, come back to me.”
Want me.
How ironic that females normally fell over each other to get in his bed, yet this woman who held his Magic Knot was afraid of intimacy.

He trailed his fingers along her arm, caressing the tender spot inside her elbow, hoping to draw her from her stupor. The sense of her psychic presence whispered around him and settled in his solar plexus where he’d always felt her. His burst of relief sharpened to longing when she wriggled her bottom tighter between his legs.

Tamsy yowled on the other side of the bathroom door, obviously sensing Cordelia’s return to consciousness. Shoot him for being selfish. He was not going to let the cat in right now. He dropped the showerhead before turning Cordelia in his arms to see her face. With his fingertips, he smoothed strands of damp hair away from her eyes. “Wake up, love.”

“Mother?” The single word whispered between her lips.

Mother?
His charms were definitely slipping if she thought he was her mother.

“It’s Michael.” He pressed his lips against her cheek, tasting the water on her skin.

When her eyelids fluttered, he drew back. “Wake up, sugarplum. You’re safe now.”

She snatched in panicked breaths, then opened her eyes, blinking in the light like a newborn. “Where am I?”

“In a hotel in Bristol. You’re safe.”

A fine tremor passed through her body while she stared at him. He extended his senses toward her, enjoyed the tingling rush of her allure, silently willing her to relax. But she withdrew her energies until he could only feel the faint beat of her presence in his solar plexus.

She pulled away from him physically as well. Sitting up,
she stared through the misted glass shower cubicle at the bath room. “Where’s Tamsy?”

Her words chipped off a little piece of Michael’s heart. Pasting on a grin, he pointed at the door. “She’s waiting for you in the bedroom. Shall we go and find her?”

When she scrambled onto her knees, he tried to help her up but she shook her head. “I’m fine. Thank you for this.” She glanced at the showerhead still gushing hot water over her legs.

Michael pulled up his knees to hide the state of his groin and swiped back his wet hair. “Well, I thought water for a water elemental kinda made sense,” he said, amazed his voice sounded so chipper.

She crawled toward the far end of the shower enclosure, giving him an unforgettable view. He’d never realized cotton underwear became transparent when wet. There was now no chance he’d be decent to stand up in his shorts for the foreseeable future.

Once she crawled out of the cubicle, he snagged a towel from the floor and bound it tightly around his waist before she turned. Taking her elbow, he steadied her while she found her feet, then grabbed another towel and wrapped it over her shoulders.

“Oh my”. She swayed and leaned against him. “What happened to me?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me that.”

She closed her eyes, sucking her lip in thought. “All I remember is…No.”

“What, Cordelia?”

She reached for the rim of the washbasin and grasped it for support, leaving him with his hands empty when they ached to help her.

“I thought I saw my mother. But I’ve never met her, so I don’t even know what she looks like.”

Maybe the woman was dead and Cordelia had seen her
after she’d left the Darkling Road. Michael didn’t want to upset her with that suggestion, so he summoned what he hoped was a sympathetic yet interested expression and offered her his arm. “Let’s get you snuggled up in bed with Tamsy”.

When he opened the door, Tamsy trotted straight to Cordelia and wound around her legs, purring like a welltuned sports car.