Dark Lord of Kismera: Knights of Kismera (48 page)

BOOK: Dark Lord of Kismera: Knights of Kismera
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Chapter Fifty

 

 

DRACE WOKE IN HIS BED feeling groggy. The last time he had felt so lethargic he had been in the hospital. He rubbed his face with one hand, feeling the heavy stubble of several days’ worth of beard. He looked around his room and out the window—it was dark outside.
How long have I been out and how did I wind up at my house?

Nature was calling, so he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He caught his breath at the sharp pull and sting on the right side of his chest. He looked down and saw two neat rows of stitches on cuts over his right nipple; they were as long as his hand. He vaguely remembered cutting himself and then the rest came flooding back into his cloudy mind. He smiled and got to his feet.

At last, he had succeeded.
They
had succeeded. He felt tears at the back of his eyes. Now all he had to worry about was Ki not wanting him, but he didn’t think that would be the case.

Someone had laid a pair of blue plaid pajama pants on the foot of the bed so he pulled them on and shuffled down the hall to the bathroom. On the way back to his bedroom he passed the open door to the guest room; he looked in and saw Maggie curled up asleep. He went in and watched her for a moment. She wore an oversized blue t-shirt and had the covers pushed down around her waist. She slept on her side and had one hand open next to her face, the other tucked under the pillow. She made a sad sniffling sound, bringing Drace closer to peer over her shoulder. Dried tears had left tracks of silver down her cheeks.

His energy failed as the groggy feeling intensified, Drace lay down next to Maggie and pulled the covers up over them both, as it was cool in the house. When he spooned next to her and she murmured something in her sleep. He made a soothing noise and laid a hand on her hip, warm through the blanket.

His heart wrenched at the hurt he had caused Maggie and with a heavy sigh pulled her against him and let sleep claim him once more.

 

 

Maggie found Drace sitting at his kitchen table, his dark head bent as he studied over a catalog of horse supplies, a cup of coffee in his left hand, an ink pen in his right. He idly tapped the end of the pen against the table. He was clean-shaven and his hair was still slightly damp from his shower. She was certain he’d already fed and turned out the horses

He looked up for a minute from the catalog and greeted her, “Good morning.”

“Any more coffee?” she asked. She walked over to the table and let one hand rest on the back of a chair.

“Yeah, I’ll get it.” Drace stood and set his own cup down along with the pen. “Have a seat. Cerise went to town on a donut run. I can call her if you have any special requests.”

“No. Anything’s fine,” Maggie said. She accepted a cup of steaming coffee and sat down. She heard him open the refrigerator and then close it. Something cool brushed her cheek and she turned to see him holding a red rose.

“I went up to the main house to let Lorrie know we were back. Mom had beautiful rose bushes and Lorrie’s kept them up. I saw some late bloomers and got this for you.”

Drace handed Maggie the rose and squatted next to her chair. “Thank you, Maggie. I can’t say that enough. I also wanted to say I’m sorry. I can’t say that enough either. I’ve hurt you. Maggie, don’t cry,” he pleaded when tears overflowed her green eyes. “Please?”

“I’m sorry. I’m such a big baby,” Maggie sniffed

Drace rose to his feet, pulling her up with him, and into his embrace. “No, you’re not, you’re very brave.”

He let go of her, tilted her chin up with one hand, and placed a tender kiss on her lips. “You know, you’ll always have a special place in here.” He placed her hand over his heart, then muttered “Ow,” as his cuts burned.

Maggie snorted back a laugh through her tears. “Let me see. I want to make sure you haven’t pulled any of those stitches.”

“Bossy this morning, aren’t you?” Drace said but was glad to have her distracted. He raised his wine colored fisherman’s sweater, wincing at the pull of the stitches.

Maggie ran a finger lightly under each row of sutures. Satisfied there was no inflammation and he hadn’t pulled anything loose, Maggie tugged his shirt down for him, placing a small hand over the area of the lion tattoo.

Drace put one of his own hands over hers and gave her a faint smile. “Can you stay ’til we leave?” he asked softly.

Maggie dropped her eyes to stare at his hand on hers. “I can. I took an extended vacation out of some accrued time. But,” she said with a sigh. “I don’t think that I will. This is turning out to be quite hard. I want you to go and be happy, but I do hate the very thought of losing you.”

She dropped her hand from his and moved to the sink, her back to him. She gave a choked laugh. “You’re not even mine to lose. I know what you told me at your hotel, but you and
I
happened too late. I can accept that although it hurts.” She wasn’t about to tell him how much. She continued before her nerve left her, “I think I’ll go back to D.C. today, if you don’t mind. I’d like to come see you off in a couple of weeks though.”

Drace came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I do mind, actually. Stay—at least one more night.”

Maggie half turned and lifted her startled eyes to his. “You’re not suggesting…? As much as I’d love to, and I’d
really
love to, I can’t. You can’t, I mean with me.”

Drace smiled at her, touching a wayward curl that lay softly against her cheek. “Relax, Mag. I didn’t mean like that. I’d like to give you a special night—to thank you for everything. There are some things I’d like to discuss with you, as well. Don’t worry,” he added quickly, at the narrowing of her eye. “It’s nothing horrible—I don’t think.”

“I don’t know, Drace,” she said, apprehensively.

“Please?” he pleaded. “I’ll take you to town. Dinner, whatever you want. It’s your night. I’ll even race a goddamn Clydesdale down Main Street if it will make you smile.”

Maggie burst out laughing. “Whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want, including the damn horse.”

At the sound of Cerise’s car, they turned and looked out the window.

“Please,” he asked once more, giving her another pleading look.

Maggie laughed again. “If you’re trying to make puppy eyes and make me feel guilty, you suck at it. But for the horse race thing I can be persuaded.

She stood on tiptoe to give him a quick kiss. “One more night; I like Japanese food and we’ll see about the horse race. I’m going to take a quick shower. Save me a chocolate covered donut.” She disappeared into the guest room as Cerise entered with a box of assorted donuts and orange juice.

Maggie came back a short while later and accepted the offered donut from Drace. She sat next to him and rolled her eyes with pleasure at the chocolate taste. Drace rocked his chair back on its rear legs and crossed his arms carefully over his chest. “Now,” he said with forbidding eyes, “what exactly did the two of you do to me yesterday?”

Their eyes widened and both women froze: Maggie with her juice halfway to her lips and Cerise in mid lick of a jelly filled donut.

Drace’s chair came back to rest on its front legs with a sharp thump.

“Us?” Cerise squeaked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I believe
that
is bullshit, C. I smelled conspiracy at lunch yesterday—wait a minute,” he growled, uncrossed his arms, and frowned.

Both women saw the wheels turning in his head. Cerise made as if to rise but Drace shot a hand out and caught her wrist. “Sit!” he ordered, releasing her when she complied. “You put something in my food didn’t you? You drugged me!”

Maggie shot a look at Cerise for help, which Drace caught.

“You
did it?”

“It was my idea,” Maggie admitted, speaking so softly he almost didn’t hear it. She turned red clear up to the roots of her hair.

“Go on,” Drace said, pinning her with a look.

“Well, we were worried about you. You hadn’t slept in over two days, and we knew you were getting worried,” Maggie rushed.

“Slow down. Maggie, before you sprain something.”

“You needed to sleep before you made yourself sick,” she explained. “I have some sleeping pills my doctor prescribed for me. Traveling overseas really disrupts my sleep patterns. Anyway, I gave two to Cerise and we put them in your stew. It still took
forever
for them to work.”

“We almost freaked, well we did freak when you started cutting yourself,” Cerise added, her pulse rate slowing. Maggie nodded her agreement and sat beside her. Then Arahtok came and you passed out. “

“I can explain that later. Continue please,” Drace said, re-crossing his arms.

“I have a theory,” Maggie said quickly. “We didn’t stay an entire week but when you became so tired that your emotions came to the surface and with the pills in your system, you were completely open, completely vulnerable. Arahtok could see into your deepest soul. He could feel exactly what you felt, what you wanted,” Maggie’s voice cracked slightly, “Who you wanted, who you love more than anything.”

Maggie was staring at the table and Cerise caught the look that crossed Drace’s face as his mouth tightened briefly.

“That called him more than anything,” Maggie finished softly.

“I rode to the campsite this morning and everything was gone. How did you two do it? And what I’d really like to know is how you got me back here and in the house. Let’s don’t forget the stitches, either,” Drace inquired, loosening his arms as he relaxed.

“We rolled you over because you landed on your face and then tried to get the bleeding stopped. You bled like a pig, by the way. Since you seemed to be okay, we left you there while we took down camp and loaded the wagon,” Cerise explained. “With the help of a little cold water, we got you awake enough to get you up and into the back of the wagon. I tied Mitch to the back, hooked up Pride, who was not happy, I might add, and we came back home. A little more cold water and some swearing we got you into the house and in bed. Once we got you undressed, I went to put the horses and wagon away while Maggie cleaned you up.”

Drace glanced over at Maggie, who cheeks were stained with a furious blush.

“You looked like you’d been slaughtering pigs,” Maggie added, avoiding his eye.

“Who stitched me?” Drace asked, returning his attention to Cerise. “You?”

“I thought about it, but just the idea made me want to puke so I called Doc Harmon. He was nice enough to come out and patch you up.”

“And how did you explain my cuts to him?” Drace asked, embarrassed that someone outside the three of them might know that he had self inflicted his wounds.

“We told him you had had too much to drink and fell against a glass window at the barn office,” Cerise replied.

“He didn’t really look like he believed you,” Maggie said to Cerise.

“I know. He’s known us since we were kids. Neither one of us were much into partying. Still, he didn’t say anything,” Cerise returned. “Anyway, that top one is deep enough he put a row of dissolvable stitches in the muscle then closed the skin. You definitely added to your scar collection.”

“Now,” it was Cerise’s turn for an answer. “Why did you slice yourself open?”

Drace told them then about Brann MacKinnon and his mention of a blood sacrifice. “I didn’t consciously think about it when I did it. I guess it was just stuck in the back of my mind.”

Both women stared at him, Cerise with her mouth open; Maggie rubbed at her arms and Drace saw the little hairs standing as he closed Cerise’s mouth for her.

He stood, gathered up the trash, and said, “I have things to do so I’m going to get going. I’m heading into Charlottesville to pick up some wooden trunks to pack my things in. Cerise, you can have the truck tomorrow if you need it.”

“Thanks, I was thinking of Richmond for the same things,” she said, putting the leftover donuts in the fridge. She went over and gave Maggie a big hug. “See you later.” She went by Drace and gave a length of his hair a tug, then went out the door, his “nephew abuse,” sounding behind her.

“Let me get my wallet and checkbook and we can go. You
will
go with me, won’t you? I could use your help. I probably should make some lists.” He gave Maggie another pleading look.

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