Celtic Moon (8 page)

“Speak openly . . . because your evasive words grow tiresome.”

“Then I’ll save you the details.” A dead calm stole over her. “But there is something you should know . . . Siân found me in the woods the night I ran from you. I convinced her to let me go by telling her my child wasn’t yours. However, she threatened to kill us if we ever returned, and I have reason to believe she’ll try.”

Her words robbed him of air. He had no memory of Siân from that night, but if she had found Sophie and not told him . . .

“Siân has been contained,” he said quietly. “I will investigate your claims. If they prove true then she’ll be punished accordingly.”

“If they prove true?” she sneered, shaking her head as if the betrayal of their past was his fault alone. “You are blind when it comes to your people. I was stupid to believe that anything I might say would change your mind.”

“I’m protective,” he corrected. “And I told you I would investigate your claims.”

She gave him an odd smile. “Do you want to know the main reason I didn’t call you?”

He remained silent, waiting to hear her reasoning, no matter how irrational, because whether they were true or not, he was quite certain that Sophie
believed
her accusations.

“It was for
Joshua’s
safety,” she continued. “I’ve waited until he was strong enough to defend himself against the people
you
are so eager to protect.”

Her lack of trust in his ability to keep their child safe left a foul scent in the air. His voice lowered to a soft growl. “No harm will come to you,” he vowed. “
Or
to my son, while you’re in my territory. I will make certain of it.”

“Thank you,” she said, sounding genuinely relieved.

Her gratitude annoyed him; their safety should have been expected,
not
appreciated. “I still have a few questions I’d like you to answer.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Has anyone helped you since that night in the woods?” He found it incomprehensible that she’d been able to hide from him all this time. She had no idea of the lengths he had gone to find her.

“Not in the manner you’re suggesting. The only help I received was from family and old friends, nothing that was connected to you. And not once did I betray your secret.”

“Where have you been?” Thanks to Porter, he knew she’d made her first call from Providence. It had taken the guard a good amount of time to locate her signal, but by morning he’d been able to report some useful findings—and yet not nearly enough for Dylan’s satisfaction.

“I didn’t leave the country,” she admitted, still protecting something,
or someone
. “I taught grade school until the fingerprinting laws started to take effect. Then most recently I’ve been working as a chef and housekeeper for a nice employer.”

“Mr. Ayres,” he supplied dryly.

“Yes.” Her tone dropped in warning. “And I would be very angry if you tracked this person down and questioned him. He knows nothing of my past. He’s innocent.”

“I promise not to track him down if you promise not to run.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Dylan, as long as Joshua wants to stay.” She lifted her hands and let them fall back to her side. “I only ask that you work with me, to at least be civil with me in front of him.”

He frowned, not knowing how to respond to such a rational request. “Agreed.”

“I know my son.” She sighed with resigned acceptance. “I’m not sure how long he wants to stay, but I have a feeling it might be for a while.”

“
Our
son,” he corrected quietly, “is old enough to make his own decisions.”

“I know that,” she said softly. “He’ll need to enroll in school. And I’ll have to commute to find a job.” She began to pace, a delicate frown creasing her forehead. “But Bangor’s only an hour away. If it’s not in your territory then it must be somewhat close. You can make a compromise, I’m sure, if you really want to.” A sparkle of hope lifted her features; her voice turned wistful. “I’d love to teach again.”

“Teach? Commute?
A job?
” Being with Sophie was equivalent to standing on a small ship during a nasty storm, the ground beneath his feet constantly unstable and threatening to toss him on his ass.

“Will you rent me the lake house?” she asked cheerfully.

“Rent you the lake house,”
he spat, livid once again now that her words had sunk in. “You’re not a servant. I don’t expect
payment
from you to live here. I’ll provide whatever you need. You’re my—”

“Don’t even say it.” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare! I don’t acknowledge those vows as a marriage. If you still do then I’m sorry, and I release you from them. Even ancient Pagans recognized divorce,” she said with just a tad too much knowledge for her own well-being.

Dylan bared his teeth as his beast clawed at his spine, demanding a voice. “We have a son together. There’ll be no divorce.”

You are my mate!

She opened her mouth to object, then snapped it shut. “We can discuss this at a later time.”

He shrugged. She could talk whenever she wanted and for however long she wanted. Years, decades,
centuries
, it was irrelevant; his decision on this matter was nonnegotiable. However, he needed to think further on her request to teach. If it would pacify her, perhaps he could find a way to make it happen without compromising her safety.

“We have eight children here in the village,” he said. “Gwenfair is their classroom teacher. I’m sure she’d appreciate your help anytime. She can also tutor Joshua if necessary.”

“You can’t be serious?” Sophie stared at him in stunned shock. “You haven’t been listening to me, Dylan. The people in your village
hate
me. And that was before I ran away with your son. I can’t even imagine how they’ll react now that they actually have a reason to.” She laughed, and it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “They certainly won’t let me anywhere near their children, that’s for sure.”

“They are wary by nature,” he explained, keeping his voice calm to her prejudice. “You just didn’t give them enough time.”

“Whatever you say.” Submissive words laced with malevolence, as if arguing suddenly became a waste of her time.

“You can’t live as you were!” He sensed her determination, her unbreakable will; she fully intended to do whatever she pleased, even if it went against his wishes.

“Really?” Her chin lifted, only to validate his concern. “Why can’t I?”

“There are precautions that must be taken.” He clenched his hands by his sides in frustration. “The knowledge of our kind can never be revealed. You must come to terms with that.”

“And how high a price will I have to pay under your terms?”

He tried to defuse her ire with truth. “There are others of my kind who will eliminate any threats to our race.”

“I’m not a threat. Unless,” she amended, her eyes narrowing with a dangerous light so unlike her former self that it took him by surprise, “they come after my son.”

A real possibility that he kept to himself. “I’m grateful that you and Joshua are here now, healthy and unharmed.”

“Are you trying to scare me?”

“My motivations have always been to keep you safe.”

From the other side of the building, Dylan heard the soft click of a closing door. Footsteps approached, one heavy and one light. Joshua and Elen appeared around the corner a moment later, halting the conversation.

Elen commanded his attention with her expression, her face aglow in awe. She whispered in the old tongue, “He’s whole. The Goddess has blessed us, brother.
Your son is whole.
”

Dylan closed his eyes briefly at the confirmation of what he’d already suspected. Still, he refused to celebrate, not until he saw his son change with his own eyes. Porter was whole, according to Elen’s special gift, and he was unable to call the wolf.

Soon, Goddess willing, they would know for sure.

Sophie pulled Joshua aside, the concern in her voice palpable. “Are you okay?”

He rolled his eyes. “Chill, Mom. I’m fine. Aunt Elen just listened to my heart rate and did a few other tests.” He grinned then. “I think I passed.”

Aunt Elen, is it?
Dylan smiled.

So did his sister. “You passed.”

His wife, however, wasn’t smiling when she leveled Elen with a searching glare. “Should I be relieved or concerned?”

Elen looked to Dylan. “Can I speak openly?”

“Yes, we will no longer protect my wife from the truth. I believe she’s ready to hear it.”

His sister nodded with approval, not inclined to soften her words. “Joshua is powerful enough to shift into the wolf. Are
you
strong enough to handle that? If so, then be relieved. If not, then be concerned.”

Sophie flinched, unaware that Elen had been her greatest defender. “You have no idea what I’d do for my son.”

“No, I don’t.” Elen crossed her arms in front of her chest. “But then whose fault is that?”

Sophie turned her back on them and ran a gentle hand down Joshua’s arm, searching his face. “I’m strong enough to handle anything but losing you.”

“I know, Mom.” He nudged her with his shoulder. “Are you ready for a new adventure?”

By the look on Sophie’s face, the simple question had personal significance. It made Dylan painfully aware of his exclusion from their life.

Sophie laughed, and it was a musical sound of pure love and acceptance. It was, Dylan recognized, a sound he’d never heard from her.

It made him ache.

“You’re accepting the news better than expected,” he said dryly.

Her smile faded when turned upon him. “I had already accepted the possibility when I called you.”

Of course she had,
he thought bitterly,
or else she would never have made that call.

R
HUDDIN
H
ALL WAS A FORTRESS OF FIELDSTONE AND
iron, with four long rectangular buildings enclosing the main house and central courtyard. The roof held a catwalk around the perimeter connecting the outer buildings, with watchtowers in all four corners.

No one was allowed admittance or departure without Dylan’s permission.

And the guards were good.

Sophie knew this firsthand.

With Joshua by her side, she followed Dylan and Elen up the cobblestone drive. Each step took conscious effort. She felt laden with knowledge, overwhelmed by information.

Their earlier words disturbed her mind and challenged her convictions.

You’ll live much longer than you’ve assumed.

The sooner you accept that you’re a part of my world, the easier it will be for you to accept your fate.

Joshua is powerful enough to shift into the wolf. Are you strong enough to handle that?

She couldn’t think of the last, not yet. Not without losing what little composure she had left. Despite her misgivings, she’d been given a small view into Dylan’s world. Her mind wanted to reject that knowledge but it explained too much about his behavior.

There are others of my kind who will eliminate any threats to our race.

She began to understand his motives. She also understood that her son was a part of his father, and therefore a part of his world. If she wanted to remain in Joshua’s life, she needed to conform to Dylan’s terms.

The very thought went up her ass sideways.

The sound of hushed voices and curious whispers pulled Sophie away from her morose meanderings. She lifted her eyes toward the evening sky. Gas lanterns encased in wrought iron cages hung above the second-floor windows, casting an eerie light along the stone façade. Along the catwalk there stood over a hundred shadowed faces, all looking down on her with unguarded resentment.

Raw human emotion on perfect human faces. One would never know the secret they protected, until it was too late.

She felt a warm hand on her back, comforting, strong—
and not her son’s
. Joshua would have nudged her or crowded her. He
would not
have stroked her back with a steady hand.

“Ignore them,” Dylan whispered next to her ear, gently ushering her forward. “They’re just curious.”

“Okay,” Joshua said under his breath, “I have to agree with Mom here. That’s a little creepy.”

Dylan frowned but didn’t comment. The front building housed most of the guards; in the center was a silver gate wide enough for a large vehicle to drive through. Dylan nodded to a female guard Sophie knew as Taran.

Siân’s sister.

Golden eyes fell on Joshua with a somber expression, then quickly narrowed in on Sophie. “She’s carrying weapons.”

Sophie lifted her chin, not surprised by the woman’s accurate assumption. “I’ll not enter this place unarmed. And I’ll not allow my son to go in without me . . . as long as there are people here who mean him harm.”

Taran sneered as the insult registered. “You’ll do whatever our leader tells you to do.”

“Leave it alone, Taran,” Dylan ordered with displeasure heavy in his voice, directed more toward Sophie than the woman guard, who was simply performing her assigned duty. “I would have removed Sophie’s weapons before we arrived, if it had been my inclination to do so.”

“You might have tried,” Sophie said quietly, an automatic response to his threat, one she regretted a moment later. Thankfully, Dylan chose not to call her challenge but he gave her an odd look, as if just realizing the woman he had once known as his wife no longer existed.

A scowl marred Taran’s features as she retracted the gate inside the stone walls without further comment.

Joshua lifted his head toward the sky as they walked through the stone archway, his eyes drawn to the gathering crowd above. “Do they all live here?”

“Most have homes in the village,” Elen said.

“Then why are they here?”

“To meet you.” Dylan led them through the gardens in the courtyard; the perennial beds were cut to the ground, waiting for new growth to emerge. He went around to the side of the main building and opened the kitchen door.

As they entered, Enid leaned against the center island with her arms crossed in front of her chest, like a general guarding her domain against an intruding force. She was a stout woman with reddish-brown hair and flushed cheeks. Her lips thinned downward with disapproval.

As other members of the house filled the room, Enid glared at Sophie without comment, then turned her sharp gaze on Joshua. There was an odd expression on her face. Sophie might have called it remorse if she thought the woman capable of such an emotion.

“Joshua,” Dylan said, breaking the hushed silence, “this is Enid, a dear friend.” He waved his hand around the room, listing off names of huddled faces. “Everyone,” he announced with pride, “my son.”

“Hello.” Joshua looked about the room with wide eyes.

Enid gave him a lowered nod. “You’ll learn all our names in time. I hope you enjoy the dinner we’ve prepared for you. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.” His favorite answer to that particular question.

Enid shooed everyone away. “Then go have a seat in the dining hall and we’ll be right in with the first course.” Her voice was cheerful.

The sidelong glare she shot in Sophie’s direction was not.

Sophie kept her shoulders squared as she weaved through the crowded kitchen. She recognized most of the faces staring back at her. Their nodded greetings did little to relieve her apprehension; they had always been nice to her in front of Dylan.

It was the other times that concerned her, when Dylan wasn’t watching.

The dining hall had not changed. It was a gothic affair of formality, with torch sconces, dark oak floors, stone walls, mounted swords and large tapestries.

Luc was seated at one end of the long table with five other empty place settings around him. Sophie gave an inward sigh of relief that Dylan had thought to make this a small gathering.

Luc stood as Dylan waved Joshua forward. With long black hair and features too harsh to be handsome, he formed an intimidating presence. His eyes were light silver circled in navy, liquid mercury on ice, an eerie contrast against his dark skin.

With her new perspective, Sophie recognized the Egyptian heritage in Luc more than in his siblings. Although, in her opinion, Dylan’s features were just as unusual, with thick blond hair, golden skin, and black eyes that followed her every move.

“Sister,” Luc greeted Elen as she entered the room, pulling out the chair next to his.

Elen accepted her brother’s assistance with tight-lipped annoyance. She was the only sibling who hadn’t inherited any dark traits, except for her current expression.

All three, without question, were the purest combination of ancient races.

Perhaps sensing Joshua’s unease, Dylan stepped forward. “My son,” he said to his brother. “Joshua, this is your uncle Luc.”

Luc held out his hand. “Welcome home, nephew.”

“Thank you.” Joshua shook his hand.

“Sophie,” Luc acknowledged with a sharp nod. “Glad you finally came to your senses and brought our boy home.”

She was not offended by his blunt tone. She had expected worse. “Hello, Luc.”

Luc assessed Joshua with the eye of a warrior. “I train the children of the village for”—he shot a glare in Sophie’s direction, changing his tone and modifying his words—“
in
defensive fighting techniques. I have a session tomorrow afternoon. You’re welcome to come and watch.”

“I’d rather help,” Joshua said.

Luc snorted at the cocky reply, a slight grin tugging at his lips. “Can you defend yourself, nephew?”

“Yes,” Joshua said with confidence.

Luc’s eyebrows raised in challenge. “With weapons?”

“With anything you put in front of me.” He shrugged. “Or with nothing.”

That gained Luc’s attention. The edge of humor left his voice. “We’ll see. Tomorrow morning then, around eight, you can show me what you know.”

“Sure. Where?”

“The courtyard.”

“No,” Dylan interrupted, “not the courtyard. You can spar at the lake house. I’ll be there as well.”

Luc nodded. “I’m good with that.”

“Me too,” Joshua answered, showing no sign of concern. On the contrary, he looked excited at the prospect of sparring with his uncle.

Lord help me,
Sophie thought as she took a seat next to Joshua, across from Elen and Luc, while Dylan sat at the head. Not long after, Enid marched into the room, serving their first course, gray sausage links and wilted greens, possibly European sorrel smothered in a sour white sauce.

It smelled like fermented meat and had the consistency of lake slime. The poor animal that had sacrificed its life for the sausage was a mystery. Pig, perhaps. Or its tendrils.

“This was your mother’s favorite dish.” Dylan watched Joshua push a link around his plate with a three-pronged golden fork. “It always surprised me that she enjoyed this. I never favored it much myself.”

Sophie stared down at her own plate and tried not to gag.

Joshua shot her a sidelong glance, knowing full well the predicament she was in. As a lesson on the consequences of withholding information, she had shared with him a few of Enid’s creative past torments—like serving unpalatable food.

Joshua’s shoulders began to shake. He was laughing, the little shit. She tried not to join in, but laughter, embarrassingly enough, was more infectious when denied, and even worse in uncomfortable situations.

“Did I miss something?” Elen asked.

Joshua stifled a sound, half snort, half giggle. And it triggered the end of Sophie’s restraint. She burst out laughing, pulling the napkin up to hide her face.

Luc and Dylan frowned at each other. Elen looked annoyed.

And that just made it worse.

“I’m sorry,” Sophie coughed out, feeling her face turn hot with embarrassment.

Enid had gone completely still, glaring at Sophie over Dylan’s head. In the past, Sophie had always taken her little attacks in silence.

Dylan spoke to Joshua, aggravation clear in his tone. “May I ask what you’ve found so amusing?”

His father’s disapproval silenced his antics. He turned toward her, his gaze searching for permission to break her confidence.

She gave him a nod. “It’s okay.”

“Mom hates this dish,” Joshua admitted. “It used to make her puke every time she ate it.”

Dylan’s dark eyes landed on Sophie, quieting her giggles. “Then why did you keep asking Enid to make it for you?”

Sophie ignored Enid’s glare. “I didn’t.”

“Liar,” Enid sneered. “Dylan, she’s a liar.”

Sophie said calmly, “Enid knew the effect this dish had on me. In fact, I think she enjoyed it.”

“And yet you never told me.” Dylan’s tone had gone dangerously low. “Why?”

Enid started shaking her head; her voice turned frantic. “You can’t believe anything this woman says.”

Dylan held up his hand. His stance, even while seated, emanated power. He spoke in a language Sophie didn’t recognize, nor had she ever heard it from him; it was the same dialect as Elen’s first words after examining Joshua. It had to be their original tongue, an early version of Welsh.

It was a strong dialect, almost guttural, and more than a tad foreboding when spoken in anger.

Enid turned away, her head lowered in submission.

Dylan’s dark eyes turned to Sophie, his anger controlled but still present. “Please answer the question.”

It was the “please” that softened her answer. “I never told you because I was young and stupid and wanted your friends and family to like me. I thought that by keeping silent they would learn to trust me. I now realize what a foolish notion that was and no longer care if they like me or not.” Sophie smiled, and she knew it wasn’t a nice smile. “But hear me now, Enid.” She waited for the woman to look up. “And be sure to pass this information along to all your cohorts in crime—I am
not
the same woman you once knew, and if anyone treats my son as I was treated when I lived here, they
will
regret it.”

Enid took a step back, frowning at Sophie’s changed behavior.

Joshua spoke up at that point, voicing his own agenda. “I don’t have to eat this, do I?”

Sophie patted him on his arm. “I want you to try it. If it’s not to your liking, then no, you don’t have to eat it.”

He leaned over and whispered, “Will you make me a pizza later?”

“Mac and cheese,” Sophie offered back.

“Homemade?”

“Sure.”

“Deal.” He took a bite; his swallow was visibly forced. With flared nostrils and a sad shake of the head, he announced, “I don’t like it.”

“Enid,” Dylan said, his voice heavy with displeasure, “clear our plates and bring the next course.”