Unholy Blue (9 page)

Bann's heart did a stutter-step at the thought of meeting Isobel Doyle, especially after Shay had confided her mother's less than enthusiastic reaction.
I don't know what's worse—dealing with the threat from the Tully clan or meeting my future mother-by-law
.

After shooing Cor off to watch television, Ann and Hugh took seats at the kitchen table. While Shay poured coffee for everyone, Bann cleared the remains of lunch and stacked the dishes in the sink. Hugh snagged a pear slice from the platter; it disappeared in a crunch and a swallow. Once they were all gathered, Shay explained what had happened. Hugh and Ann listened without interruption, with an occasional knowing look between them, until she finished.

“Since we'll have most of the clan assembled at the party,” Ann said, “we'll wait and discuss strategy in the event that Weston Tully decides to escalate this further.”

“Are you talking about…
clan warfare
?” Shay looked from aunt to uncle.

Hugh nodded. “Of course, that would likely depend on whether—” he paused, glancing across the great
room at Cor sprawled on the sofa, then lowered his voice “—on whether Cernunnos attacks another Tully.”

Guilt souring the food in his belly, Bann shook his head. “I cannot let that happen. It is because of me that your clan is in danger from—”

“Hi. My name is Bann.” Shay interrupted him.

“Hi, Bann,” Hugh and Ann murmured, right on cue.

“And it's been an hour since I last tried to take the blame for something beyond my control,” Shay finished.

Bann laughed, despite the worry beating black wings in his chest. “I see now why the mortals who share the Doyle name chose ‘Fortitudine Vincit' as their motto.”

“Why, would you look at the man—a scholar he is, what with the Latin and all,” Hugh said with a grin. “And just where did you come by that obscure bit of information?”

“Why, James, of course.”

Ann patted his hand. “You're going to fit in
so
well with our family. But, for now, we've a betrothal celebration to start preparing for. After all, we must keep our priorities straight. I'm thinking a pig roast and some piñatas for the children, as well as—”

Hugh leaned over and whispered something in Ann's ear. “Really, Hugh?” She gave him a look. “That's all you think about.”

“Why, 'tis not true, wife,” Hugh said. “Sometimes, I think about beer.” He turned to Bann. “Say, can we borrow Cor to aid us in picking out the piñatas? That is, if the two of you can stand the thought of an empty house for an hour or so.” He waggled his eyebrows up and down, elbowing Bann in the ribs.

Five minutes later, Cor was bouncing along between Hugh and Ann as they walked down the driveway to their car, talking a mile a minute about a birthday party he had once attended and how he was now an expert on piñata whacking. Bann stood in the open doorway, arm around Shay's waist, and watched as they drove away with a honk and a wave. They waited until the vehicle turned the corner and disappeared out of the cul-de-sac, then glanced at each other.

“Well, here we are,” Shay said. “All alone.”

“Aye. All alone.”

“Whatever shall we do?”

“I've an idea.” Bann drew her inside the house and locked the door behind him.

“Which is?”

“Why, a bit of ‘round the house and mind the dresser.'” With a fluid move, he scooped her up in his arms. The old expression made him grin, as did Shay's squeal of delight.

Clinging tightly to his neck, she spoke. “I always wondered what it'd be like to be swept off my feet and carried away for some hot sex. Ooh, wait! Better yet, hot
make up after a fight
hot sex.”

“Now, you will know.” He headed down the hallway, pausing halfway there to hoist her higher.

“Although, technically, we haven't gotten to the hot sex part yet,” she pointed out.

“Jeez, I'm working on it.” Nudging the door aside with an elbow, he walked over to their bed, then tossed her on it.

Shay hooted with laughter. “Last one naked loses.” She stretched out flat and unzipped her jeans while Bann yanked his shirt over his head.

In the end, it was a tie.

W
ITH A GASP
, B
ANN
slumped back on the pillow, his pulse humming a reel in his ears and temples. Shay sprawled naked on his chest, her legs straddling his hips. He reached up and tucked her hair behind one ear, then slid his hand along her bare back. Sweat coated them both—nature's lubricant. She murmured something, her face buried in his shoulder.

“If that was a request for a third round, Shay darlin', then I'll have to beg off this time.”

“Slacker.” With a groan, she slid off and flopped down on the mattress. “I think I pulled a groin muscle.” She plucked her cell from the bedside table and squinted at the screen. “We better get cleaned up. Want to shower first?”

“We could share.”

“Yeah, like that would speed things up.” Rolling off the bed, she walked toward the bathroom, staggering a little.

Linking his hands behind his head, Bann watched her, enjoying the show, until she closed the door. The toilet flushed a few minutes later, followed by the
whoosh
of the shower running. For a few minutes, he drifted, staring unseeing at the ceiling, body relaxed to the point
of uselessness, much like his manhood, now down for the count, between his legs.

He forced himself out of bed with the thought of his son and the Doyles returning earlier than expected. After taking care of the used condoms, he walked around, gathering his scattered clothes. Stepping around to the far side of the bed in search of his jeans, he idly glanced out the window, still unused to the view of the wooden fence instead of the scattered boulders marking the edge of their property. He started to turn away. Movement on the other side of the wall. A shape flitted from the nearest boulder toward their home; reaching the wall, it disappeared from sight.

A
dog
-shaped shape.

“Shite.” Scrambling for his knife and his jeans, in that order, he hurried out of the bedroom and across the house to the back door. He paused, peering through the glass as he yanked on his pants, then eased the door open. Stepping out, the cool November air was balanced by the warmth of the midday sun; even so, goose bumps broke out on his bare torso. He crept toward the wall, knife at the ready and bare feet protesting.

On the far side of the barrier, something paced back and forth, its passage marked by the whisper of dried grasses being trampled underfoot.
Under paw
. A snuffle, then more pacing.

“Max?” he whispered.

The movement stopped. Ignoring the bite of gravel, Bann inched closer and peered over.

Max stood on the other side, tail beating a frenzy of greeting. Unlike the last time he had seen the creature, Max's eyes were a warm brown instead of demonic red.
A smile seemed to split his muzzle, but his coat was still matted with grave dirt and other things Bann chose not to look at too closely.

“Max?” Bann said again. He wondered if, by some miracle, the hound really was back from the dead. He wondered what it would do to Cor.

The dog danced in place, whining at the sound of his name. Unable to contain his elation, he reared up and planted his forepaws against the fence.

“Max! No!”

A blast of white light, followed a split second later by a low boom that made Bann stagger a step, lifted the animal off his feet and blew him backwards several yards. Yelping, Max hit the ground in a poof of dust and dried grass. He writhed on the ground, legs kicking, as if not sure how to work his limbs, then lurched to his feet. For a moment, he stood panting, then limped away toward the boulders in a jerky motion that reminded Bann of a marionette attached to the strings of an inexperienced puppeteer.

Bann gave a sharp whistle. “Max, come!” The dog ignored him—
or couldn't hear after that blast
—and staggered behind the nearest rock. Staring at the spot where the hound had disappeared, he curled and uncurled his fingers around the haft of his blade, his mind denying what his eyes had just seen.
Dead is dead. At least, with the creatures of this world
.

“What the hell was
that
?”

He whirled around at Shay's voice. She stood in the doorway, thin lines of water running down her naked body from her wet hair, a knife clutched in one hand.

“Ye gods, the whole house shook!” She stepped back inside as he joined her and closed the door behind him.

“Do you not wish to finish showering?” he asked, stalling for time.
Do I tell her or no? It was her beloved pet, after all
.

Her eyes narrowed. “You're hiding something.”

Damn
. “Aye. But.” Before she could protest, he took her elbow and urged her toward their bedroom. “I'll tell you while you dry.”

As Shay toweled off, Bann stripped down and stepped into the shower, detailing what had happened over the hiss of the spray. “I believe Cernunnos was somehow using Max to test our defenses,” he finished as he turned off the water and pushed the shower curtain aside. “Thanks,” he said when she tossed him a fresh towel. “Which, in a way, was a good thing for us.” He dried his hair and wiped the rest of his body.

“How so?” Shay tugged on her jeans, then slipped a camisole over her head before pulling on a checkered shirt.

“We know the wards work.”

A car horn honked. “Perfect timing.” Shay ran her fingers through her hair, fluffing the drying strands.

Buttoning his shirt, Bann nodded. “We'll inform the others when Cor's not around.”

“No kidding. The last thing he needs is any kind of hope that Max can return. You know, I really think we should get him another dog so that he can move past all this. Maybe for his birthday—” They both jumped when the front door crashed open.

“Dad? Shay?” Cor's shout ricocheted around the house, underscored by Ann ordering him to stop yelling and frightening the poor thing. “Daaaad!”

Bann hurried along the hall, reaching the great room first, Shay on his heels. They both slowed, then halted at the sight.

In the middle of the living room, Cor stood cradling a squirming puppy in his arms, face aglow with the wonder of holding his new best friend. He giggled when the pup, failing to lick his face, twisted around and began licking the back of his hands. Ann lingered by the front door. She carried a bulging plastic bag marked “PetSmart.”

“Look what I got!” Cor beamed at them.

“Why, that doesn't look like a piñata to me,” Bann said, his own smile matching his son's. The puppy turned itself inside out with happiness when he stepped closer, pink tongue working like mad to swipe anything in reach.

“Want to hold him?” Cor passed the pup to his father. “Be careful. He's still a baby,” the boy ordered.

Hiding his amusement at his son's parental tone, Bann took the small creature, about the same size as a full-grown cat, but stockier, in his hands. He had started to examine the pup when a thin, warm stream splattered on the wooden floor by his feet. He made a face, then snuggled the young animal to his chest and ran a hand along the squirming body. While the conformation and the smooth coat, a shade more blond than Shay's hair, hinted at a Labrador side of the mixed breed, floppy ears declared a possible beagle influence.

Shay laughed. “Wow. Talk about scaring the piss out of it.
Him
, I mean. Cor?” She raised an eyebrow meaningfully. “Paper towels are under the sink, buddy.”

“I hope this is okay,” Ann said. She stepped to one side as Hugh appeared, wrangling a large metal dog crate through the front door. “We were at the hobby supply store, and the pet shop next door was hosting a puppy adoption from a reputable shelter. Cor ran over to the holding pen they had out on the sidewalk, and, well…”

“He's a mix of Labrador and beagle.” Confirming what Bann had guessed earlier, Cor came hurrying back with a wad of paper towels. He squatted down and dried the floor. Somewhat. “I named him Sam.”

Bann handed Sam back to Cor; they greeted each other as if they had been separated for days. “Here. I'll get that, Hugh.” Taking the crate from the other Knight, he carried it into Cor's room and set it down by the foot of the spare bed. As he started out, his son brushed past him with the pup on his heels. Sam was trying his best to chew on Cor's shoelaces with every step.

Lingering in the doorway, Bann watched as the boy opened the lowest drawer in the dresser. He dug through socks and underwear and a collection of Transformers action figures before pulling out an old chew toy that had belonged to Max. Cor studied the rubber chicken for a moment, then he hunkered down on the floor and held it out to Sam, who began gnawing on one end, his puppy mouth barely big enough.

“This was Max's. Remember I told you about him in the car? But I don't think he'd mind if you played with it, cuz you're supposed to share, you know?” Cor spoke
in a soft voice, as if talking to himself. “Like I'm sharing Dad with Shay.” He stroked the puppy with his free hand. Sam let go and looked up, tail whipping from side to side and floppy ears perked as if listening. “And you and I get to sleep together and I'll watch out for you and I won't let
him
get you.” The boy sat down and crossed his legs and pulled the puppy into the cradle of his body. “I promise.”