Nichole Harris-Shilo
Nichole struggled to regain her mind and body from the dark nothingness surrounding her. She'd watched the passage of light disappear as she'd faded from existence. What had brought her back? Alexander.
“Amy—do something!”
She latched onto Merril's frantic voice and fought her way forward. The rumble of his chest against her head filled Nichole with joyful motivation.
My love.
She drew a shuddering breath and blinked. “Holy shit,” she muttered as Amy's worried expression came into focus, inches from her face.
Amy sat back and scrubbed her hands across her eyes, then smiled at Jason. “She’s back.”
Merril tightened his grip on Nichole. “I'm damned tired of you dying.” He kissed the top of her head and pressed her curls close to his chest with a sigh of relief.
When his hold eased, Nichole turned and found both Jason and Amy remained on the ground beside her. She smiled at her cousin's dust-covered face and put her hand out toward Amy. “You did it.” Nichole included Alyse in her gaze. “Thank you.”
Nichole turned and laid her palm against Merril cheek. “I’m sorry that happened.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” He kissed her hand. “Are you well?”
She searched his eyes and caressed the stubble on his chin. “Yes, my love, I am.” She touched her lips to his, then pushed upright. “Help me stand.”
Merril rose and lifted Nichole to her feet.
She dusted her skirt and looked at Bay and Bern. “The demon’s not gone.” Nichole’s words caught everyone's attention. “He's still out there.”
“What do you mean?” Bernard questioned. “We defeated him.”
“No,” Nichole pointed southeast. “He went that way.”
“She's right,” Hunter touched his lip and looked at the blood on his finger. “The demon won’t give up. He calls himself Morago... and he’s learning.” Hunter stared at Amy and Alyse. “He'll be back for you. He craves your abilities.”
Hunter turned to Cat and opened his arms, catching her as she rushed into them. “Mon Dieu. Ma belle Cat. Mon amour.” He held her head to his shoulder as she sobbed. “Shh. Tout va bien. Shh.” His gaze lifted, and he stared at Nichole.
Nichole met and held his regard. Do you know me, Alexander?
Hunter tipped his head to Nichole. The intensity of his dark eyes burned into hers before they closed, and he buried his face in Cat’s hair.
“Well, then, what are we going to do?” Bayard asked. “He could have our mother.”
“He does,” Hunter confirmed, and everyone looked to him. “I could sense her—hear her. He controls a horde of demons that do his bidding. Your mother’s soul is a prisoner among them.”
“Ah, no.” Bayard turned away. He lifted his hat and held his wrist to his head. “No.”
Nichole wrapped her arms around Merril, her head against his muscular chest.
It’s not over.
“Your bunkhouse is on fire,” Jason stated calmly.
Alyse squawked in alarm and clenched her fist, smothering the flames.
Hunter kissed Cat’s head and whispered in her hair.
Cat nodded and helped Hunter walk out of the circle and ease himself to the wooden planks of the porch. Cat refilled the cup with water and returned to Hunter. He took the tin from her hands, set it beside him, then reached for Cat. He wrapped his arm around her as she settled beside him on the porch.
“Is it safe to leave the ring?” Jason asked Hunter.
“Yes.” Hunter reached for the cup beside him and took a sip of water. “Morago will need time to plan before he returns. He was—unprepared for defeat.”
“We can't leave Mum with him.” Bayard pressed his lips together and stared at Hunter. “What are we going to do?”
Jim stepped forward. “First thing will be to head back to The Highlands. They need to know it’s over—for now.” He looked down at Alyse and took her hand. “I don't know about demons, but I know about getting beat in a fight. You don't come back for a second go until you think you have a chance at winning.” He tipped his head in the direction Nichole had pointed. “He's running scared for now.” He gave Alyse a reassuring smile. “We have time to make plans of our own.”
Nichole took Merril's hand and led him over to the porch. She settled beside Hunter on the wooden planks. “Do you know—” She cleared her throat, looked into his dark blue eyes and held out her hand. “Hi. My name is Nichole.” She glanced at Merril as he sat beside her. “This is my husband, Merril Shilo.”
Hunter nodded and took her hand. “Bonjour, Nichole. Merril.” Hunter nodded to Merril. “My name is Hunter.”
“Yeah.” Nichole felt a foolish grin spread across her face, and her heart rate doubled as he squeezed her fingers. She looked from their joined hands to his battered face. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” She glanced at Cat, and the memory of an aged postcard addressed to Alexander Veau crossed her mind. “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Hunter’s eyes narrowed as he gazed at Nichole. “Perhaps ... we’ve met?”
“Yes.” Nichole took a breath and nodded. “Perhaps we have.”