Kiss of the Goblin Prince (20 page)

He flipped the book over and read the back. As he did, his lips curved. Treasure hunters and ancient civilizations, obviously Eliza had given Amanda some hints—but how many? Had she told Amanda how she’d met Roan? Nothing Amanda had said would indicate she knew anything, and if she did, she was in safe company to talk about it. He realized he was surrounded by the only people who wouldn’t think him crazy for talking about goblins, curses, and the Shadowlands.

“Thank you. I look forward to reading it.” When he did he would think of her.

Her smile widened for a second before she remembered herself and drew back as if she overstepped a line. “It’s the first in the series, but he writes lots of other adventure books.”

Dai kept his grin in check. He doubted anything could come close to some of the tales he could tell, but it was always fun to read about someone else getting into trouble and escaping instead of being the one in danger and scrambling to survive.

“And lastly…” Eliza handed him a box.

Too light to be a book. He lifted the lid and wrinkled his nose. A cell phone. There was a reason he wasn’t going to get the landline connected—he didn’t want calls. Still he had to be gracious—she’d broken the curse and was making his brother very happy.

“I thought you might need a new one,” she added in case he didn’t got the hint.

“Yeah.” Like a knife in the back. Although now he could call Birch on Monday and make an appointment before turning up at the office he’d failed to locate while walking around the city. It was there, he knew it was.

“I’ve programmed in some numbers already.”

“Thanks.” He put it on top of the books on the kitchen counter.

There was a pause and the adults all looked at their drinks as if trying to come up with a safe topic for conversation. If it was just Roan and Eliza, things might have been less awkward. Hell, if it was just him and Amanda, it would have been less uncomfortable. The way Eliza kept glancing between him and Amanda, he was beginning to feel like some kind of social experiment.

He took a drink of his wine, knowing he could always crash in the study again. “So what’s for dinner?”

“Roast lamb,” said Eliza.

The tension in the room dissipated, and everyone moved as if freed from the bonds that had held them in place. Brigit began setting the table with Eliza helping with the glassware. Roan shooed him out of the kitchen. There was nothing for him to do but wait.

Amanda followed him into the lounge room. “So, what did you do last year for your birthday? Where were you…Mongolia?”

Dai studied the reflection as light cut the crystal glass and scattered in the red wine. She was searching as if she knew he was hiding something. The truth hovered on the tip of his tongue; he’d been in an icebound tomb looking for black diamonds, but he swallowed it down.

“I don’t remember too much, just sampling the local fermented yak’s milk.” Not a total lie, just not last birthday. He had gotten drunk on their lethal brew more than once. It was kind of expected.

She nodded. “Must be nice to have that kind of freedom. To up and go on a whim.”

The wistful tone made him glance up. She was watching him. Their gazes met, then she looked away, her eyes skimming down his body before turning aside. With his scars hidden by clothes, he didn’t flinch at her attention. He never thought of his travel as a freedom. It was a requirement, a duty to perform as part of his quest. But he’d seen things no one living had. Drank chocolate laced with chili in the Andes before the Spanish invaded. Joined forgotten rituals. Been to every continent. Raided tombs of heroes and villains. Shared a kill with a dragon. Sworn vows to gods no one remembered. Watched magic be worked and spoken with the dead. Left fingerprints on the pages of history—and he couldn’t share any of it with her.

“It was.” His life hadn’t been on hold in the Shadowlands; it was just different.

“Where’s your favorite place?”

“I don’t know.” No one had ever asked him. “Every place is unique.”

Could he visit those places again? Could he still cross continents with a thought? What would she think if he told her he could take her anywhere she wanted to go?

“You’ve traveled the world and yet you’re settling here.” She raised one fine, dark eyebrow as if she found the thought to be beyond belief.

“Roan wanted me here for the wedding.” If not for that, he’d never have met Amanda.

She twisted the stem of her glass. “But this isn’t just a visit. You’ve bought an apartment.”

“My family is here. Plus Perth makes a good base.”

“A base?” Amanda frowned.

Before he could answer Roan appeared in the lounge room.

He smiled at Dai and then Amanda like he was breaking up an important discussion. “Come and sit. Don’t let the meal grow cold.”

Or
rot.

But they weren’t in the Shadowlands. Food didn’t decay soon after it was killed or served. And eating would be a welcome break. Amanda couldn’t ask questions with a mouthful of food. Every time she glanced his way, or she opened her lips, he expected a question to follow, the one that would catch him out saying something made with less truth and more lie.

Brigit wasn’t as recalcitrant as her mother, for as soon as she’d finished eating she started. “Can you do fairy magic?”

Roan coughed as he choked on his last mouthful of food.

“No, just tricks and illusions.” Dai glared at his brother.

Did Roan really think he would bandy about something as bizarre as real magic? He picked up his fork and wiped it clean on the napkin. Then he rubbed his fingers over the tines for show; as he did he twisted and turned the threads of the forks to change its shape. Amanda watched, her breath held and lips parted. When he was done the prongs were tied in a bow. He handed the fork to Brigit.

Her mouth hung open as she took the fork and examined with a reverence only a child could have. His sister wore a similar expression when given her first real sword. Everyone else just stared as if they didn’t believe what they saw. He smiled, as if to convince them it was all in fun.

Damn
. Knotting the metal might have been too much; he should’ve just bent the fork, but it was too late now. Roan flicked him a cold glance that made the Shadowlands seem warm and welcoming. Dai knew what he was thinking. But as long as he kept the magic indoors and didn’t just pop up all over the place in front of people Birch wouldn’t interfere. He hoped they wouldn’t. Ice prickled between his shoulder blades. He should’ve thought about that before showing off. He didn’t want Birch to pay a visit to any of the people here.

“If magic isn’t your specialty, what is?” Amanda found her voice again, but her eyes were wide as she looked at him as if seeing him for the first time.

“Myths.
The
Occult
Practices
Amongst
Indigenous
Populations
of
the
Northern
Hemisphere
was the last book I had published.” And it had been widely decried as being new-age rubbish dressed up as fact. He had cited some of his earlier, more obscure books as references, but given that some of his sources were older than he was and written in languages humans didn’t live long enough to decipher, it presented a problem.

Amanda nodded and he could see her thinking. “So, you believe in magic.”

“Of course. If I didn’t believe, how could I have knotted the fork?” He wasn’t going to lie and say magic didn’t exist, because Amanda would see straight through him and explaining why magic did exist after denying it would be harder than admitting outright that it did exist.

“See, magic is real, Mom.”

Amanda nodded, but her eyes didn’t leave him. Her gaze hadn’t lost any heat; if anything the interest he saw burned brighter.

Eliza smiled at her niece. “Of course magic is real, sweetie, but only if you believe.” Her gaze lifted to Roan.

“How are you going to continue your research living in Perth?” Amanda leaned her cheek on her hand.

The cheek his fingers had touched. He wanted to feel her skin against his again…but not with all these people watching. Whatever was growing between him and Amanda needed space and privacy and time.

Dai leaned forward. He’d already decided what he was going to do with his newfound life. “I’m writing the companion book for the Southern Hemisphere.” Some of the lore he needed was in his books, but he could make a start and maybe find new texts.

“Really?” Both of Amanda’s eyebrows rose in graceful sweeps.

Was she interested or being polite? At least she didn’t roll her eyes. Not everyone was as enthusiastic about lost cultures and lore as he was, but then his life had depended on the obsession for many decades. It was nice to talk openly about his work, instead of publishing work and hearing about its reception secondhand through reviews.

“He might be able to speak a hundred languages, but he can still kill a conversation.” Roan raised his glass.

“A skill that took years to develop,” Dai countered.

Roan leaned over and kissed Eliza’s ear. She blushed. Amanda glanced away and her gaze met his. Her eyes were a mirror for the loss he felt. For something he’d never had and something she’d lost. Could they create something beautiful out of old hurts? The talons tightened as if they didn’t want to let him go. His breath caught at the crushing pain.

“I need some air.” He got up without waiting for a response, and no one rushed after him as he went out into the backyard. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and gazed up. A handful of stars were visible in the blue ink puddle of the sky. This spot on the well-trimmed lawn was where he’d stood a little over a week ago, knife in hand determined to beat the curse while Roan and Eliza had said their farewells. He didn’t believe Roan had the strength to leave, and Dai didn’t want his brother to fade and take him with him. He was glad his hand had been too slow.

Fane’s battle with the curse had continued through many lives. And every time he failed. Would he break free or succumb? Dai took a breath; he had a chance to really be free, really free, and all he had to do was take it. Only he wasn’t sure how.

He wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Amanda was changing the fabric of his reality with just a glance and a smile. He drew the cold night air into his lungs, but the chill didn’t cool the warmth in his blood. He knew what he wanted with Amanda, but did he have the courage to pursue it when it went against everything he knew? He wanted to erase the old memories and replace them with something else. He wanted to know what her kiss would taste like and what it would be like to lie with her—outside of his dreams.

Dai forced out the breath. Amanda had experienced enough grief in her life. She didn’t need the weight of his ancient history on her shoulders. And whatever existed between them would have no substance without her knowing the truth. He swore in Decangli.

There was no easy way. He couldn’t drop his past and be something he wasn’t—no matter how tempting the idea. Maybe he should give up on the idea of trying to be normal. Around him, the trees whispered and groaned. The metal plaque on the base of the tree glinted as the leaves moved and moonlight danced across the surface.

Those men never had a chance. He closed his eyes. He was such a coward. As long as he feared himself, Claudius would still be laughing and inflicting pain. He shivered in the cold night air. How did he remove the grip of a wraith?

***

Amanda watched Dai leave the room. It was easier to look at him than Roan and Eliza. They were so obviously in love. She could see the fire but never feel the heat. The love that she’d thought would warm her for a lifetime was now lukewarm ashes that did little to repel the cold. Until meeting Dai the embers’ glow had been enough.

He lingered in her thoughts. When he spoke, she watched his lips and wanted to be kissed by him, to feel his hands on her body drawing her close. Those fingers had worked magic on the fork—she cut the thought off, but her body finished it without words. The tightness in her belly had nothing to do with how much she’d eaten, and everything to do with the man who’d slipped outside.

“Come on, Brigit, I’ll pop in your DVD.”

Her daughter slid off her chair and skipped into the living room, magic fork in one hand and handbag swinging from the other. The pretty pink bag looked cute, but it was all that protected Brigit from a life-threatening asthma attack. She hoped the healer they were going to see next week would be able to help. She wasn’t naïve enough to think there was a cure, but she’d take even a lessening of severity. She’d take any improvement, anything to prove the doctor wrong. Brigit’s asthma wouldn’t kill her. She wouldn’t let it. Maybe if Dai could bend a fork, he could fix Brigit’s lungs.

“Which one did you pick, sweetie?”

“
Cinderella
.” Brigit took it out of her bag and handed it over. It was her favorite. Like all little girls she believed in fairies, princes, and magic.

A sad smile formed as Amanda got the disk going. Once upon a time so did she, but the clock struck midnight, and her prince had turned into a pumpkin. Brigit was her glass slipper. A beautiful, fragile reminder of the life she could’ve had. She kissed the top of her daughter’s head.