Old Dog, New Tricks (27 page)

“I hate this.” I slumped against the doorframe as the world righted itself. “It sucks every time.”

“Thierry?”

I cracked open an eye and found Rook sprawled half in and half out of the closet. “Hmm?”

He elevated himself into a sitting position and dusted his palms. “I assume it worked?”

“Like a charm.” I edged out into the hall for some fresh air. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m calling our deal done. I want to get out of here before you start campaigning. I do
not
want to get caught in the crossfire this round.”

Scrambling to his feet, Rook backed me against the wall, careful not to touch me. “Thierry...”

“
No.
” I put up my hands to keep him an arm’s length away. “Whatever you’re about to say, no.”

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay?” he purred. “We could rebuild Faerie
together
.”

“That’s gonna be a
no
. You threatened to let Shaw starve to death in order to punish me less than five hours ago. That’s kind of a deal breaker.”

He harrumphed like I should have been over that by now.

“You’re going to have to do this alone. Stand up to the Unseelie. Help them mend fences with the Seelie and figure out where the hell Faerie goes from here.” I shoved him backward. “And make sure none of them discover the tether until there’s a new ruler on the throne, okay? A sane one. No one crosses that tether who isn’t cleared by Mac or by me, got it?”

A grin warmed Rook’s features. “I will guard it as though it were my own hatchling.”

“Um, yeah. Okay. You do that.” Backing away, I made it two steps before snapping my fingers. “I almost forgot—what about your mother? I left her back at the den inside the Hall of Many Doors.”

The smile fled his face. “Is she secure there?”

“I think so.” I tapped the toe of my boot on the tiles. “I trapped her inside an air pocket.”

His jaw came unhinged, and choking sounds spluttered out of him.

“What?” I folded my arms over my chest. “She was trying to
kill
me.”

“Only you,” he said, shaking his head. “Nothing you do should surprise me.”

Bristling, I snapped, “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Maybe it’s for the best.” His gaze went distant. “She soughs dissent wherever she goes, and what we need now is peace.” His smirk mocked my shock. “The fae are not nearly as eager to go to war as they think they are. Let riots break out. Let differences be settled and old slights be forgiven at sword tip. After a few months of chaos and bloodlust, they will tire of the dirt and the blood. They have grown soft in the years under your father’s tenants. Soon they will lament the days of the Black Dog’s rule, and settle into—perhaps not peace—but mutual understanding. At least until they grow bored again.”

Not sure I believed him one hundred percent given the Huntsman’s assessment, I wasn’t about to argue with Rook’s rosy new outlook on life. He was seeing his potential, possibly where there had been none, and those were good things. He was a veteran of surviving Faerie. He knew the score. He knew what he was up against, and I wasn’t about to burst his bubble while he was feeling optimistic.

As close as I was to getting a hot shower and crawling into my own bed for many blissful hours of uninterrupted sleep, I was ready to pin a
Vote for Rook
badge on and call it a day. But I wanted the details ironed out before I left to prevent unexpected visits from Rook...or from his mother.

A thoughtful silence lapsed. “When do you plan to return?”

“In seven days,” I answered without missing a beat.

When Mac rose, I was going to be here to welcome him back.

“Do you think that you might...?” He rubbed his chin. “If you are certain you will return in such a short time, I wondered if you would consider...” He dipped his hand into his pocket and then extended it—palm up—toward me.

The dainty conch-shell charm Branwen asked me to pass along to him sat there.

I saw where this was headed, and I approved. “You want me to ask if she will consider spending the week with you.”

“I would understand if she preferred to wait and make our reintroduction a day trip.” His stiff posture braced him for a rejection I hoped wouldn’t come.

I accepted the shell, knowing how much this possibility meant to him. A small kindness could make or break a man on the edge of becoming something more or less than he was. Branwen stood at a crossroads too. Her newfound freedom sparkled less without her mate by her side. Maybe a week together was what they both needed to begin healing.

“I’ll speak with her. If she agrees, I’ll make the return trip. If not—” I rubbed my thumb over his token, “—then you’ll see us in a week.”

“That sounds more than fair.” He pinched his chin. “If you don’t mind, I will consider the matter of what to do with Mother, and we can discuss it seven days hence.”

I shot him two thumbs up. “That works for me.”

I had to explain to Mac about the death-goddess balloon I left floating in his hall anyway.

“Oh, hey.” I worried my lip between my teeth. “Can you do a favor for me?”

Cunning sparkled in his eyes. “A favor?”

Asking him for help stuck in my craw, but I was on a deadline. “Can you release Tierney for me?”

“The ogre?” His gaze flicked down and then back to me. “This makes us even—for Branwen.”

I nodded in agreement, relieved when he didn’t ask for more than I had already agreed to do for him.

Calling for Bháin, Rook turned and left. No doubt the boys were settling in to strategize.

Fine by me. I didn’t need to be escorted to the door. Or in this case, the tether.

Thanks to Shaw’s penchant for snoring, I figured I could find him on my own if I wandered the halls long enough. I knew where the bedroom suites were in general, and where Rook’s quarters were in particular. It was enough to give me an idea of where I ought to be searching for Shaw. Sure enough, I turned the corner past the master suite and heard the muffled sounds of sawing logs. Trailing the noise, I stopped before a door and tested the knob. Unlocked. I pushed inside and hesitated when I found the bed empty.

“Shaw?” I nudged open the door. “Are you in here?”

Movement caught my eye as I entered the room, and I spun as he slammed the door behind me.

My hands shot up, and I backed away slowly. “We already had this conversation.”

I was still bruised from it.

Rims of white frosted his copper eyes. “I remember.”

“Are you feeling okay?” He looked good to me. Better than good. “Are you still—?
Oof
.”

Somehow my back was against the door and Shaw filled my vision. His gaze dropped to my lips. “I hurt you.”

“You didn’t know.” I lifted my hand slowly and touched his cheek. “I’m fine.”

His grunt said he wasn’t as ready to forgive himself for his actions as I was.

“I can kick you where it counts if you want to even the score,” I offered.

He pressed his hips against mine, and I shivered.

“Give me a fifteen-minute pass.”

“Fifteen minutes?” I choked on a laugh. “What do you need fifteen minutes for?”

Fingers brushing over the buckles running up my side, tugging straps that secured my armor, he unfastened them one by one and didn’t answer. Lines marred his forehead. His white-rimmed eyes savored my bare skin as he uncovered it inch by inch. He traced the new runes with a reverent fingertip before dropping to his knees before me. Leather fell away. Pants were peeled down my legs. My left foot jerked, and that boot vanished. Shaw swore softly when the other refused to budge.

I let my head fall back against the door and watched through my lashes as he undressed me.

“I was afraid.” I hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t meant to ruin the moment with words.

The bare toes of one foot brushed the faded jeans covering his closest kneecap. He locked my other leg under his arm while he fumbled with the uncooperative closures. My pants hung from that leg, above the stubborn boot, and the icy door was breaking chills over me.

Or maybe it was the contrast of the cold door and the hot glint in his eyes as they raked over me.

His warm palm cupped my exposed calf. “I wasn’t.”

“You aren’t allowed to trust me that much,” I scolded. “
I
don’t trust me that much.”

“I love you.” His hand smoothed up the back of my thigh. “Trust comes with the package.”

A flush rose in my cheeks that softened his expression.

Boot forgotten, he placed my foot on the floor and stood. His fingertips moved light as butterfly wings over my stomach, and I quivered at his touch. While his thumb circled a hipbone, I found the hem of his shirt and eased my hands underneath, sliding them over his hard stomach, letting my nails bump over the firm ridges of muscle clenching tighter as my hand dipped toward the button of his jeans.

I flipped my thumb then grabbed the metal tab below it. The sound of a zipper lowering blocked out the pounding of my heart. A shudder racked Shaw, and the earthy citrus scent of his lure rose in the air, burning my nose where I breathed him in, sizzling in my lungs when they filled with the warm, heady fragrance of his arousal.

I worked a hand inside his pants, my fingers closed around him, and he gasped. I met his molten copper eyes, glad it was him. Our hungers were part of us, but God I loved the sincerity in his dark eyes, loved seeing that the man desired me as much as his hunger craved me, loved knowing he wanted me. I loved him, period.

He leaned in until his forehead rested on my shoulder, and planted his palms on the door behind me. His chest pumped, and his skin smelled so damn good I licked off beads of sweat forming there.

I moaned at the taste of him. “Should we be doing this in my ex-husband’s spare bedroom?”

“Tell me no,” he grated between clenched teeth. “I can wait.
This
can wait.”

But in that moment, holding him in my arms, breathing in the scent of his skin, I couldn’t.

I gripped Shaw’s shoulder, hopped forward and hooked my free leg around his hip. “Now.”

“That’s not what I said—”

I rolled my hips and guided him inside me.

He groaned my name in broken syllables.

“You always did talk too much.” I fastened my mouth over his.

His hands molded over my butt, held me still against the frozen door as he drove into me over and over, urgency making us both tremble. Familiar tingles started in my core and spread through my limbs. I gasped as the prickles exploded in a burst of heat that arched my back. My fingernails sank into his shoulders to hold him closer, raking down his back to leave red trails in his slick skin as I came undone around him. Shaw threw back his head and shouted his release.

Nuzzling the base of my throat, he began chuckling in a purely masculine way that oozed satisfaction. The man was pleased with himself. I mean, he ought to be. My thighs still quivered. But this was grab-a-Sharpie-and-print-
I-won
-in-block-letters-on-his-forehead kind of proud.

I fisted his hair and yanked his head back so I could see his face. “You did this on purpose.”

A satisfied smile curved his swollen lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

My pants-encased leg shook under the strain of supporting me, but Shaw was slow to release the thigh hitched over his hip.

“Sex.” I wiggled to get loose, but somehow he managed to get closer. “Here. Now.”

His dimple winked at me. “It must be that reaffirmation-of-life thing I’ve heard so much about.”

“Uh-huh.” I popped his bare butt. “And here I thought only dogs marked their territory.”

He looked dead at me and said, “Woof.”

Chapter Twenty

––––––––

S
even days after Shaw and I left Faerie behind us, we found ourselves right back. Mac rose like clockwork, and I made sure the first thing he saw was Mom’s face. Never in all my life would I have imagined she would volunteer to travel into Faerie. And yet, here we all were. One big happy family.

The
L
word Mom had so much trouble saying? She hadn’t stopped since Mac’s eyes opened.

Clearing my throat, I brought his attention from her lips onto me and wiggled my fingers. “Hi.”

Mom scooted to the end of the cot where he rested, and Mac opened his arms.

“Come here.” The skin around his eyes crinkled as I shuffled toward him. “Any day now.”

Secretly pleased, I grumbled under my voice and sat stiffly next to him. This time there was no hesitation in his embrace. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed until my eyes bulged. I shut them before silly tears spilled down my cheeks and returned the favor, holding on to him like I was afraid he might leave me—leave
us
—again.

“I’m glad you’re back,” I mumbled into his shirt.

“I’m glad you’re all right,” he mumbled back.

Pulling back, I wiped under my eyes. “That was too close.”

“It was necessary.” He shifted closer. “What news from the mortal realm?”

“Well...” I drew out the word, “...it’s quiet at the moment. The magistrates called another meeting. I testified to our side of events, though they still want to speak with you. After that they dispersed to their regions.” A smile quirked my lips. “I got a promotion—or maybe a demotion considering this time last week I was the future queen of Faerie.”

He glanced between Shaw and me. “Oh?”

“She’s been appointed liaison between realms. She’ll be representing the mortal realm.” Shaw grinned. “That leaves you as senior liaison with a home base in Faerie.”

“And Shaw has been appointed the official liaison babysitter,” I grumped. “Apparently there’s concern for my safety once news of the new tether breaks. Everyone and their momma will want to know where it is, and I’m not telling until we’ve plugged our leaks. For now, we’re both off the streets and stuck behind desks.”

Mac winced in sympathy. “This
promotion
is in light of my...separation...from the High Court?”

I nodded. “Faerie still needs you, and the conclave wants to maintain a close working relationship with you now that you’re a free agent.”