Kiss of the Goblin Prince (31 page)

Even if he got back to the Shadowlands, how would he get Meryn out? Would he even be able to get out again himself? As a goblin, he could pass through realms easily. As a human, everything was different. And everything that he’d been denied would again be lost if he became stuck in the Shadowlands. He wanted more time with Amanda; he wasn’t ready to leave. And yet he had to. Time moved differently in the Shadowlands. One more day could be the difference between life and death for Meryn.

Meryn deserved another chance. The man had lost everything to the curse; his wife, his children, and his humanity. While Dai couldn’t bring back his wife and kids, he could give him a chance to rebuild.

What if Dai couldn’t bring them both back to the Fixed Realm where they belonged? He pushed away the thought, refusing to give power to anything that would steal his hope.

He pulled on a shirt, grabbed his phone and keys, and headed out of his apartment. As he walked down the street, he let his vision slide so the world became a mass of threads weaving around each other. Occasionally a sticky gray thread would appear. He followed one by sight; it ended with a woman who caught him staring and scowled, her weave becoming tight like she was trying to hide from him. He looked away. A false lead, she had no connection to the Shadowlands, but her fears tied her thoughts there. That wasn’t what he was looking for. He wanted something hard. A tangible object. Magic worked best with an item, something on which energies could focus and bind. In his quest to break the curse, that item had been his body, a vessel of the curse.

Around him, the city moved like a river, constantly in motion, never stopping for breath. His head started to ache as he searched a thousand threads with each heartbeat. If he couldn’t find something there, he’d go to a bigger city. He would keep looking. In the back of his mind he heard the ticking of a clock. Meryn didn’t have forever to wait for Dai to find a way back.

He blinked and cleared his vision. He was doing it the wrong way. If one of the six bone-handled knives still existed, he should be able to find it no matter where it was in the world. Jumping into someone’s private collection or a buried tomb was a whole lot less appealing now that he had a life worth risking. Stepping into a trapped stronghold hadn’t really bothered him as a goblin—okay, the flooded tomb had given him more than a moment of panic before he’d gotten out. But he’d gone back better prepared.

He had to be smart. He couldn’t go jumping through reality and into a brick wall. He leaned against a building and closed his eyes. An image of the knife built quickly in his mind, along with the ever-present chill. They’d come to him easily in his dream, so he expected no trouble if they still existed in the Fixed Realm. Sure enough a fragile thread extended from him to somewhere. Then another, and another.

Three blades.

Two were far away, over the sea, and the gods knew where. At least he had a second and third option. He let them go and focused on the close one, looking for any clue about where it was. He got none, only a resonance of age that made no sense. The knife was old, and he had no idea how old the goblin had been.

He opened his eyes and took a step, careful not to close the full distance between him and the knife. He stood in front of a large building. Well, it was more like two old buildings joined together by a large glass structure. A museum. He turned around and faced the museum again. He knew where he was. To his left was the library, glittering as the knowledge inside created a world of its own. The museum by contrast was swathed in the threads of history.

A strong gray rope spun around the brickwork, but it wasn’t part of the building and there was no tail end to follow. It grew around the building the way a vine might. He frowned and walked closer to examine the thread. Thick and gray and cold. It was definitely a part of the Shadowlands’ death magic that had been allowed to take hold. And it was growing from something inside the building. His knife.

His lips curved. He glanced over his shoulder but no one was looking at him. If anyone knew what he was planning, they would’ve thought him mad.

He let out a breath. He was mad. There were so many what-ifs. What if he couldn’t find Meryn? What if he was too late? What of he got pinned down by a troop of goblins? If Roan came with him, at least he’d have someone he trusted at his back. And if it all went bad, everything would be lost.

In his pocket his cell phone rang. He cleared his vision of the tangled threads and the tension in his forehead eased. He glanced at the screen, and his heart lurched.

Amanda.

He shouldn’t have been surprised. She was the only person who rang him. What was he going to tell her? She’d already lost a husband. He didn’t want her waiting for him if he got stuck. No matter how hard he tried to quash the fear, it kept sticking out its ugly head. He wasn’t even in the Shadowlands yet and the desperation and despair were already giving life to fears he shouldn’t acknowledge.

He smiled as he answered, even though the magic from last night was buried in the gray dust of the Shadowlands. “Hello.”

“Hi, how’d you sleep?”

Great until he was shot. Still, he’d been lucky. It was unlike Meryn to miss a target. “Not too bad.”

“Good.” The warmth in her voice traveled down the line.

But it didn’t warm him. Instead he felt the razor edge of loss against his skin, cutting deep. He wanted to see her again, just in case he couldn’t make it back. He needed to see her and let her go. He rubbed his hand over his eyes as if he could wipe away the headache. Two thousand years to have a chance at what most men took for granted. But she would be there when he got back. It was a temporary break. He’d tell her he was going away for work. Then he’d leave a letter for Roan in the apartment. That way they’d know what had happened. He didn’t let the thought grow.

If he planned to come back, it was more likely to happen.

He glanced up at the sign on the building. “Did you want to do something today?”

“Sure.” Her voice raised and he could taste her excitement. “What did you have in mind?”

“What about a trip to the museum?”

“Okay…but Brigit will be with me.”

“I kinda expected that.” He’d take any time he could steal with Amanda.

When Amanda arrived, Dai greeted her with a smile and a kiss on her cheek as if he was aware he was being supervised by Brigit. She would’ve turned her head and offered her lips, but she didn’t want her daughter asking more questions that she wasn’t sure how to answer.

She was falling for Dai. Not in the sudden flash of knowing that it was with Matt—one look was all it took. But she was younger then and less wary. Now her heart was more guarded, and while she recognized the spark of attraction, there had to be more.

She slipped her hand into his, needing to touch him, as they went into the museum. Her skin craved the contact the way a plant stretches toward the sun. The night before seemed so long ago, she’d been so tempted to stay, to respond to the heat burning in his eyes. Would she have regretted it? Probably not. Would he?

She didn’t know.

Watching him speak yet not understanding a word except a few names—Mave, Roan, Claudius, and at the end Eliza—had still revealed a lot. She heard the emotion in his voice and saw the tension in his face and hands. Felt the scars on his skin beneath her fingertips. He must’ve had a hell of a time growing up. But the damage didn’t seem as great as she expected. And for all his concern about knowing how to be gentle, his touch was soft and sure.

Desire tightened her stomach for a moment. His fingers tightened around hers as if he was also remembering. He gave her a look, and his eyes shimmered as if he was using magic.

“I enjoyed last night,” she whispered.

“So did I.” The shadows in his eyes were gone, replaced by a new danger, something she didn’t recognize. And there was a silent
but
. They were walking side by side, yet they might as well be in different states. Something changed.

Amanda couldn’t help but watch him as he talked and laughed at Brigit’s badly constructed jokes. The weight was gone, he seemed happier, but he wasn’t really with them. Was he having doubts about telling her everything and nothing? But that didn’t fit. He asked her to come out; he was the one to lean in and offer her a kiss.

Brigit darted from display to display until she came face to face with the skeleton of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. She gazed up, her mouth open, as if she was able to see the fearsome creature in flesh and blood.

“Dai, you’re old, do you remember dinosaurs?” She walked around, not taking her eyes off the bones, like watching it could keep it still.

“Brigit!” Dai was only a few years older than she was. Did her daughter think she was old enough to remember dinosaurs too?

“I’m not quite that old,” he said with mock seriousness. “But I did meet a dragon once.”

“A real dragon?”

Dai nodded. “Of course, she wasn’t as big as the dinosaur…”

Amanda stared at him. Was he playing, or had he really met a dragon? He could do magic, he’d made her believe in magic. How did she know if he was telling the truth or making up stories?

“And where was this dragon?” Amanda raised an eyebrow.

“Africa,” he said as if dragons prowled the savanna. His eyes glimmered for a second as he scanned the room. To anyone else they would think it a trick of the light, but she knew better. And she knew him. Dai was looking for something. A chill slid down Amanda’s spine. What would he be looking for in a museum…and more to the point why? Was it something to do with healing? Her breath caught in her throat. Had he found a cure?

“Mom, can we go to Africa so I can see the dragon?”

Dai looked at Brigit. “The dragon died.”

“But there’s more?” Brigit tore her eyes off the bones and stared at Dai.

“No. She was the last.” His smile was gone as if he were talking about losing an old friend.

“Well, there are no dragons here, but there are plenty of other animals to look at.” Amanda steered Brigit onto the next display.

“What were you looking for?” she said as they walked on.

He opened his mouth, paused, and then spoke. “How did you know?”

“Your eyes, there’s a reflection or something. Besides, you scanned the room like you were looking for something, not at something. Is it for…” Amanda nodded her head in Brigit’s direction.

“I’m working on that. But this is for something else.”

They moved onto the displays of objects from daily life over the centuries. Brigit pulled open drawers and pointed at things that were protected by a sheet of glass. Dai answered all her questions. He seemed to know a bit about everything. Was it truth or tales though? Where did the occult law of one culture end and another begin, or reality start? Was he even sure anymore?

Maybe she was rushing things? But when she was with him she wanted to hear about the places he’d been and the things he’d seen as if she could live vicariously through his travels, yet she never felt like he resented her asking. It was like he enjoyed talking about the things he’d learned.

But she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he was looking for or what he was going to do with it. “Nothing illegal?”

“No.” But it was what he didn’t say that made her concerned.

Not illegal, but almost.

She tugged on his hand. “What’s going on?”

“I’m looking for a magical item, that’s all.”

“And then?”

They stopped in front of a display on Iron Age people. Their weapons were held up for the world to see. Arrows and axe heads. Life must have been so hard back then. How would they feel knowing the things were being gawked at by a bunch of people with the free time to stop and stare?

Brigit pulled open the drawers to see more artifacts. Dai paled and stepped back. Amanda leaned over Brigit to have a look, but all she saw was a collection of knives, one with a bone-handle. She glanced at Dai and raised her eyebrow. His hand slipped from hers and he moved onto the next display by himself. Was it the knives? Was one of them magical? Ice settled in her stomach. What was he going to do with a magical knife?

Brigit bounced after him, oblivious to his need for space, and Amanda followed.

“Ohh, look at that spider.” Brigit placed her hands on the glass display cabinet.

“It’s a bird-eating spider,” Dai answered without the snap of exasperation of a tired parent who’d responded a thousand times before. He looked over his shoulder at Amanda. Instead of the shadows that had roamed his eyes there was sadness of a thousand things he couldn’t explain to her in any language.

In that breath, she knew he was going to leave. He was going to walk away before they even had a chance to see what could happen. Just as she was getting used to the idea that maybe she could risk being in love again. She took his hand and laced her fingers with his, knowing it wouldn’t be enough to keep him. He’d made up his mind.

Amanda drew him back a few paces from Brigit. “What’s happened?” Last night she’d thought there’d been hope, more than a chance of something.

He looked away. “I have to go away for a few days.”

“And take one of those knives?”

He didn’t answer.