The Stag Lord (8 page)

Bann shrugged. “You understand why we must leave. Today. You're not safe as long as you shelter us.”

“My risk to take.”

“Don't you understand? He will slaughter you without a thought to get to me and Cor.”

“I do understand that, yes. But before you get all lone-wolf about everything, can I at least ask some questions?”

Bann started to argue, then relented. “Ask away.”

“So. Cernunnos. Has he been hunting your family for all this time?”

“Strangely, no. In fact, there had been no sign of him for centuries, although the story of the Stag Lord's oath of vengeance has been passed down from father to son. My father warned me to be on eternal vigilance, for we never knew when the Horned One would appear.” Bann made a face. “It would seem I drew the short straw.”

Something clicked in Shay's head. “Is that how your wife died?”

“Aye.” Bann hesitated, then spoke, gaze fixed on the cold hearth. “How he came to the New World is still a mystery. In fact, I thought I had left him behind when I fled to America and settled in Pennsylvania amongst our people. I even thought I could marry and raise a family in relative safety.”

“Is that where you met your wife?”

“It was. Elizabeth and I had Cor not two years after we were wedded.”

“How long has it been since your wife…” Shay let the words fade.

Bann drained his mug. “A year ago. I was not home when he attacked. He killed Elizabeth right in front of Cor. Why he didn't kill my son, too, remains a mystery.” Glancing toward the hallway and the guestroom beyond, he added, “He still has nightmares.”

Shay's heart twisted for both father and son. “Why didn't you call upon the other Knights?”

“I did. I went to my chieftain, my wife's drying blood on my hands and my terrified child in my arms.” Bann's jaw muscle jumped. “He told me it was
my
fight, not theirs.”

I don't blame him for being so bitter about our people
, Shay thought. “So, what now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you can't keep running forever. What if something happens to you? What would happen to Cor? You need to find a way to destroy that creature once and for all.”

“Would you care to tell me how? His magic makes him almost impossible to kill. He is both human and animal, thus with the strength and speed and cunning of
two
creatures in one.”

“Well,” Shay began. “I do know a Knight who has—”

“No.”

“Would you just listen for a minute—”

“No.”

“—before saying no? Look, you and Cor could settle here in High Springs. Get to know the other Knights and their families. Make a new life for yourselves.”

“No.”

“Bann, I'm trying to help you—” Shay could feel her face flush. The sympathy that had filled her earlier faded.
What a stubborn jackass. Hardass. No. Wait. All-around ass
.

“I dinna ask ye to!” Bann's voice rose. Nearby, Max jumped to his feet, hackles raised. Just in case.

“Well, you don't have to shout!”

“Um…Dad?” A voice whipped their heads around.

Cor stood a few feet away, his face creased from sleep and hair working hard at imitating a nettle hedge. “Hey, boy.” He patted Max, who had joined him, then looked from his father to Shay and back again. “Are you fighting?”

“No,” they said in unison.

“Sure sounded like it.” He fussed with the sling. “Can I take this off now?”

“Let me see you move it.” Grateful to be doing something to distract herself from slapping some sense into the Knight's head, Shay walked over and helped Cor slide his arm free. Wincing faintly, he raised and lowered his limb a few times. “Still hurting?” she asked.

“Just a little.” Cor raised it again. “Feels better without the sling.” He pulled the cloth over his head and draped it around Max's neck with a grin.

“Let's not get dog hair on that, shall we?” She plucked it off, marveling how quickly the
sláinte
nettle worked on the young. “Now, what would you like for breakfast?” Heading to the kitchen, she tossed the sling on the island and headed toward the refrigerator. A glance over her shoulder showed Bann gathering up their coffee mugs.
Hope he knows we're not finished with that conversation. No, sirree. Not by a long shot
.

Cor followed her. Taking a seat at one of the tall stools at the counter, he thought for a moment. “Anything but oatmeal. We eat that all the time.”

“Eggs?”

“Yes, please.”

“Bacon, too?” Shay pulled out a skillet and a spatula, already knowing the answer.

“I like bacon.” Bann joined his son at the counter. Neutral ground.

“I didn't ask
you
.” She wagged her spatula at the man. “
You're
getting oatmeal.”

“Why?”

“Because you were yelling,” Cor said.

“
She
was shouting, too, I'll have you know.”

“But it's her house, so she's the boss. Just like Mom was the boss.”

Silence filled the kitchen. Keeping her attention fixed on the stove, Shay busied herself with the bacon. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the Knight Who Wasn't running his hand over Cor's hair, smoothing it from the night-long fight with the pillow.

“Aye, your mum was the boss, to be sure,” Bann said in a quiet voice. He cleared his throat. “Go wash your face and hands.”

After Cor disappeared, Bann walked around the island. “My apologies for my poor manners earlier. May I help?”

“Sure. Plates are in the cupboard over the coffeemaker.”

As Bann set the table, Shay poked at the bacon. When the meat finished its death dance, she scooped it out and laid it on a pile of paper towels to drain. Coming back for juice glasses, Bann reached around her, snagged a piece of bacon, and popped it in his mouth.

“Do that again,” Shay joked, hoping to ease the tension, “and you'll be missing some fingers.”

“A worthy risk.” Bann promptly stole another piece. “‘Tis bacon, after all.”

Shay grinned at the faint brogue that had slipped out. “What is it with guys and their meat?”
Oh, crap. Did I just say that
? Face burning, she grabbed another paper towel and began patting grease from the bacon as if her life depended on saving them from high cholesterol. Gratitude flooded her when Cor reappeared and took his place at the counter.

Within minutes, both father and son were hammering down as if they hadn't eaten in days, Bann trying to steal his son's bacon the entire time and jerking his hand away when Cor tried to stab it with his fork. After breakfast, he shooed Shay out of the kitchen, insisting he and Cor would clean up since she'd cooked. Shay agreed.

Taking Max with her, she retreated to her bedroom to finishing dressing for the day. After pulling on a pair of jeans, running shoes, and a warmer shirt, she brushed out her mostly dry hair and fastened it back into a ponytail. Making her bed, she threw an old blanket across the duvet cover. “It's all yours.” She shook her head when the dog leaped on the bed, made two circles, then settled down with a contented sigh. “I have totally spoiled you.” Max agreed, pleased she had caught on so quickly.

Down the hall, she could hear Bann and Cor in the guest room talking, apparently finished with the dishes. Their voices were too low to hear the words. Once she thought she heard Cor protesting, followed by a curt command from Bann. She froze when the boy's voice suddenly rose in frustration.

“But I saw them, Dad! I know I did! Weapons. Like your other ones.
Bronze
ones. They were on the counter last night.”

“Mind yer tone with me. Ye saw nothing. And I forbid ye to speak with her about it. Get yer shoes on. Now.”

Silence.

Shay wondered who would crack first.
I'd bet on Bannerman
.

“Cormac Boru, ye've the count of three to do as ye're told. One. Two.” A long pause. “Three.” A longer pause. “Four.”

She grinned.
Yup. Clearly, Cor has inherited his father's stubbornness. I wonder what Bann's going to do now
.

A smack was followed by a yelp. A moment later, the guest room door banged open. Footsteps, too heavy to be Cor's, echoed down the hall, then faded.

Shay hesitated. A sniff propelled her out of her room and along the corridor. She peeked in the guest room. Cor was seated on the floor between the two beds, tying his shoes, his movements savage. He kept his gaze fixed on the laces as she entered.

“You okay?”

He nodded and started on the other shoe. His mouth worked as if trying to make a decision. “Can I ask you something?” he said in a hushed voice.

Shay's heart sank.
I promised Bann I wouldn't say anything
. “It depends.”

“Are you…you know…like
us
?”

“What do you mean?” She stalled for time by both dodging the question and joining Cor on the floor.

Cor leaned closer. “Are you Tuatha Dé Danaan, too?” he whispered. A mixture of hope and something close to desperation colored his face.

“What an odd question. And what is a
toody-day hannah
?” she asked, purposefully mangling the pronunciation. It broke her heart when the light in Cor's eyes faded.

“Never mind.” He finished tying his shoe. Climbing to his feet, he looked around, then picked up his sweatpants and T-shirt. “Thank you for letting us stay at your house,” he added, clearly coached. Before she could say anything more, he left.

7

S
TANDING IN THE MIDDLE
of the living room, Bann ran a hand down his face. Guilt burned like acid in his gut. The look of shock on Cor's face when Bann had swatted his butt kept looping through his head. He could count on one hand, minus the thumb and little finger, the number of times he'd had to use hand-to-ass discipline with the boy, including this one.
Damn, but he can be stubborn
. His mouth twisted in derision.
Hello, pot? The kettle is calling for you, person-to-person
.

A deep rumble made him glance at the window. Thunder announced the coming storm. Bann blew out a breath in frustration. The desire to be on the road, driving hard, putting as many miles as possible between them and that monster, ate at him. As if knowing it would just make things worse, rain began drumming on the roof. He glared up at the ceiling.
Bleedin' hell. And the camper with its busted windows
.

Cor appeared, his face a mirror to the storm outside. Shay was right behind him. She headed toward the front door and snagged her keys off the table. “Let me move my car and you can back the camper into the garage. It's a double, so you should have plenty of room to work on it in there.”

“Wait.” Digging into his pocket for his own keys, Bann slipped around Shay and opened the door before she could. He peered out, scanning the yard and street.

Shay crowded next to him. “I thought you said we were safe here,” she said in a low voice.

“I did, but…” He glanced back at Cor sulking by the fireplace.

“…but one never knows with gods. Especially the batshit crazy ones. And now would not be a good time to see if the wards will really keep him out.”

“It would not.”

“I've an idea, then. Max. Come.” She swung the door wider as the dog trotted over. He waited by her knees, dancing from paw to paw in anticipation. “Show ‘em what you can do, big guy.” She gave him an affectionate thump on the ribs, then pointed toward the yard. “Max. Guard,” she said in a clear voice. “Guard.”

Bann watched as the dog bounded out and stood a few feet away, looking back over a shoulder. Shay called out another encouragement. The dog gave a wag, then trotted down the driveway and disappeared behind Shay's SUV.

“I taught him to guard against goblins,” she whispered. “Since he can hear and smell those uglies, I'm hoping he can pick up on shapeshifters, too.”

“Clever. Do you get many
Amandán
around here?” He frowned at her sudden grin. “What?”

“I haven't heard that term for years.
Amandán
. We just call them goblins. But to answer your questions, no, hardly any. Their territory is closer to the foothills and up into the mountains.”

“Is that why you live here?”

“Yeah. I'm too busy to do much goblin hunting. Although like most Tuatha Dé Danaan, my family's pretty fanatical about it. I've got a pair of cousins who hunt almost daily.”

As did I
, he thought. For a moment, the lure of the chase sang through him. To hunt instead of being hunted.

A long minute passed. Then another.

“Perhaps I should—” Bann began.

At that moment, Max came trotting back. Rain darkened his coat. He shook himself violently, starting with the tip of his nose and working his way in a cascading effect to the end of his tail. Beauty regime complete, he gave a short woof, as if to say
all clear
.

As Shay hurried to her car, Bann ran over to his truck, slipping a bit on the wet grass and mud. He climbed in and started it, then pulled out into the street. The rain picked up, pounding on the roof. Backing in with extra care so as not to hit Shay's house, he managed to tuck the camper inside the spacious garage. He climbed out to unhitch only to discover Cor already there, loosening the safety chain. The dog hovered nearby. Bann noticed the dog's head was up, nose sniffing the air and ears swiveling around. On guard. Joining his son, he paused to pat the damp fur. “
Gle mhaith
, Max.”

The rest of the morning was spent repairing the broken windows, after the two obligatory trips to the hardware store. “Once to get what you
think
you need, and the second to get what you
really
need,” he explained to Cor. With his son's help, he finished replacing the panes, the shared labor helping ease their earlier spat. Shay had left to run an errand after extracting a promise from Bann that he wouldn't leave until she returned. He grinned when he recalled her forcing her cell phone number on him. Just in case. “Call me if you decide to leave early,” she had said. “Or call me if you think of something I could pick up for you while I'm out.” He had handed the folded piece of paper to Cor, who had shoved in his back pocket.