Chapter Fifteen
“I believe I know why they kicked ye out of your war, Huntsman,” William said as Trace walked up behind him. “I’ve guided legions that made less noise than ye do.”
“Would you have preferred I didn’t announce my arrival?” Trace asked with a chuckle, sitting down beside him. “No offense, Killkenny, but I’d rather not have to explain to Maddy why I slit her boyfriend’s throat defending myself.”
William snorted and handed Trace a bottle of the ale he’d bought at a store Elbridge had suggested he stop at. It wasn’t mead, but at least he could stomach it.
Trace took the bottle, held the label up to the moonlight, and also snorted. “You drink this rotgut warm?”
“Half the taste is lost when it’s chilled.”
Trace twisted off the cap and took a sip, made a sound of disgust, and then took a longer swig. “You intend to camp out here every night?”
“I can’t very well camp out in her bed, now can I? Not with her mother and young daughter in the house.”
“I see she’s using your truck.”
“Only until I work up the nerve to give her the new SUV hidden in Kenzie’s barn.”
Trace spit out a mouthful of ale. “Good luck with that. I’m shocked you got her to use your truck even temporarily. You try to give her that SUV, and she’s going to get behind the wheel only long enough to run you over.”
William chuckled, deciding he’d have to ask Mabel what a lottery was, and how he went about having Maddy win one. “So, Huntsman, what did ye think of our . . . target practice this afternoon?”
Trace said nothing at first, staring down at Maddy’s house for quite some time before he spoke. “I’ve spent most of the last ten years in just about every country in this world. You don’t think that’s the first time I’ve seen a hocus-pocus dog-and-pony show, do you? There are witch doctors in the Pacific who not only can light a fire with the tip of their finger, but can also walk across the glowing coals without burning their feet.” He took another swig, gave a small shudder, and glared at William. “As for what Kenzie did next . . . well, he should never do that in front of a man holding a gun.”
William chuckled, and took a sip from his own bottle. “Aye, I was quite surprised the first time he did it in front of me, too. But not nearly as surprised as I was that he showed you some of what he’s just recently mastered.” He sighed. “But it seems modern man has spent the last few centuries trying to distance himself from his true nature, so I suppose it’s not your fault for being skeptical of the magic.”
“That’s wasn’t magic; there has to be sound science behind those tricks.” He looked down at the bottle in his hand. “I could probably figure out how he started the fire, but that panther thing was . . .” He looked over at William. “It takes a lot to rattle me, but I’m still trying to come to terms with what I saw.”
“I have a good friend who’s a scientist,” William said, twisting the cap off another bottle of ale, wondering why anyone would bother buying such wee bottles. “And Camry told me that the line between science and magic is growing thinner with each new discovery and that one day, when it completely disappears, man will realize he’s wasted centuries proving nothing. We are what we are, Huntsman, and it matters not if we like it, only that we accept it.”
“Then what’s the point of even being born?”
“The point is different for everyone, and is rooted in whatever lessons we need to learn—or that we can teach one another.” He grinned over at him. “And I just recently learned that we are our own worst enemies, far more than what’s out there,” he said, sweeping his bottle in an arc to encompass everything around them.
“So you’re saying the wolves that attacked you and Maddy last night aren’t really the enemy, so we really don’t have to worry about them?”
“Hell yes, we need to worry, just as we must deal with the energy that sent them. And that’s the very core of the problem. Our individuality gives us free will, but there are always those who wish to impose their will on the rest of us. Whoever sent those wolves here is after your mermaid, and you, Kenzie, and I are all that are standing between her and untold horror.”
Trace drained the last of his ale, gave another shudder, and shook his head. “I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around what you’re saying.”
William chuckled again. “Welcome to the magic.” He handed him another bottle, then leaned back on his elbow. “The woman who gave ye the coin came seeking Kenzie, but apparently when she realized you could see her true nature, she decided to ask for your help as well. So while you’re fighting whatever demons got ye kicked out of your war, ye need to decide if you’re also willing to fight hers.”
Trace stared down at the unopened bottle in his hand. “How does one fight something he can’t see and doesn’t know anything about?” he asked softly.
“Ye use whatever weapon ye have at your disposal; sometimes it’s a sword or a gun, and sometimes it’s your smarts,” William said, looking down at the light shining from Maddy’s kitchen window. “And sometimes ye simply fight with all your soul.”
Trace followed William’s line of sight. “Are you in love with my cousin?”
William took another sip and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Nay, I’m not certain I’m capable of loving anyone.”
“Then why are you messing with her?”
William glanced over when he heard the edge in Huntsman’s voice. “Because if there’s even a glimmer of hope that I can love, then I would wish to love Madeline. And if I find that I can’t, then I’ll settle for taking such good care of her that she will feel loved.”
Trace snorted. “Trust me, women know the difference. So what happens if Maddy won’t settle for anything less than love?”
“Then I will let her go . . . before I break her heart.”
Both men turned at the sound of a screen door slamming, and William sat up when Maddy came running out of the house, hiking her purse over her shoulder as she ran down the stairs.
“Sarah! Sarah, where are you?” she shouted, her voice verging on panic as she stopped in the middle of the driveway. “Sarah, answer me! Sarah!”
William sprang to his feet, but before he could take even a step, Trace tackled him to the ground and then quickly ducked to avoid William’s fist. “Sarah crawled out her bedroom window and is chasing fireflies,” he said in a rush.
“And ye did nothing?” William growled, shoving him away.
Trace’s grin slashed in the moonlight. “She actually started calling them like pets, in whispers so her mother wouldn’t hear.”
“Dammit, Sarah, where are you?” Maddy shouted, now in a full-blown panic.
William attempted to jump to his feet, but Trace tackled him again. “Goddammit, Huntsman,” William hissed, this time catching the bastard square on the jaw. Trace rolled away and lunged to his feet, the moonlight glinting off the knife in his hand.
“Sarah!” Patricia also shouted as the screen door slammed again.
“Oh, Sarah!” William heard Maddy cry in relief. “Didn’t you hear me calling you? What are you doing out here? You’re supposed to be in bed!”
While keeping half his attention on Huntsman, William turned to see Maddy drop to her knees and hug her daughter.
“The kid’s almost ten,” Trace said, straightening from his defensive stance. “Maddy used to sneak all the way over to my house at that age to spy on me after her parents had gone to bed. Why do you think I call her Peeps?”
“She didn’t sneak through woods filled with wolves.”
Trace ran his hand along his jaw and then slid his knife into the back of his belt.
William also straightened, suddenly realizing there was a reason the man hadn’t been worried about Sarah. “Who’s with her?” he asked.
“Rick started whining about missing his niece, so I brought him over. It was his idea to climb up to her bedroom and bring her out to catch fireflies.”
William sat back down and picked up his overturned bottle of ale. “You ever interfere in my business with Maddy again, Huntsman, and I will be the one explaining why I killed her cousin.”
“What the . . . why in hell did she bother to bring her purse?” Trace asked, looking down the knoll.
William glanced down to see Maddy sliding the strap of her heavy purse over her shoulder again as she led her daughter back into the house. “Because she has a gun in there big enough to blow a hole the size of my fist in a man.”
Trace gaped at him. “She’s carrying a handgun in her purse?”
“It was a parting gift from her bastard ex-husband, so she could protect herself and Sarah. She claims she has a permit to carry it and that she doesn’t keep a bullet in the chamber.”
“Those were her shell casings we found at the pit. Holy shit, Billy gave her a forty-caliber cannon.” Trace grinned. “She has good aim; she blistered those beer cans.”
“Can ye talk her into carrying something smaller?” William asked, spitting out a piece of dirt he nearly swallowed when he’d swigged down what was left of his ale.
“Why don’t you talk her into a smaller one, since you like buying her things?”
“It appears my gifts unnerve the woman, but she might accept one from you.”
Trace folded his arms over his chest. “Do you want her to have a different gun because you think she needs a different one or because you don’t like that this one is from Kimble?”
“What in hell sort of man gives a woman a gun as a divorce gift?”
Trace grinned. “A stupid man, apparently. He’s lucky she didn’t turn it on him.”
“He knew she wouldn’t. Madeline is too damned softhearted for her own good.”
“Most women are,” Trace said. “It’s in their DNA.”
William snorted. “Then ye haven’t met Kenzie’s sister. That’s one woman I’d hate to see holding a gun in her hand.” He chuckled. “Or, rather, her wing.”
“Excuse me?”
William eyed Trace speculatively. “Fiona Gregor is a red-tailed hawk—as well as a flaming shrew. She’s not all that fond of men, though I suppose she may have good reason. I just don’t like how she’s decided that other than her two brothers, all the rest of us are bastards.”
“What do you mean, she’s a red-tailed hawk?”
“Just that. She died giving birth to her son in the eleventh century, but she showed up here as a hawk soon after Kenzie moved to Midnight Bay. Only she’s been missing almost a week now, and we’re starting to worry about her. Before she disappeared, Fiona wouldn’t let your mermaid out of her sight, and Kenzie fears she’s gone off on her own to deal with whoever is after the pup.”
“The pup?”
“You see a woman swimming in the bay, Huntsman, where everyone else sees only a harbor seal pup.”
Trace was back to gaping again. He suddenly bent over, grabbed another bottle of ale out of the box, twisted off the cap, and downed half of it.
William chuckled. “Getting drunk won’t make it any less confusing, my friend.”
“I never get drunk.”
“Aye, a warrior can’t afford to let down his guard long enough to enjoy some of the simpler pleasures.” William looked toward the house and saw that the downstairs lights had gone off; the only one left on was in Maddy’s bedroom. He wondered if she was right now tucking her heart into a box and sliding it under her bed.
God, he hoped so.
“Wait, you said something about Fiona’s two brothers. Kenzie has a brother?” Trace snorted. “What is he, an elephant?”
William looked back at him and grinned. “Nay, Matt’s a wizard.”
Trace downed the last half of his ale in one swallow.
William took two more bottles out of the box and handed one to him. “Sit down, Huntsman. I believe I promised to tell ye the story of Maddy’s bogeyman boyfriend, and I guess now’s as good a time as any.”
“Are you sure you’ve got everything you need for the weekend?” Maddy asked, stuffing the mail she’d just gotten out of the mailbox into her purse. She glanced over to make sure her daughter’s seat belt was fastened and the airbag was off and finally pulled out of the driveway, already ten minutes late.
Sarah made an impatient noise as she twisted in her seat to look around the truck, apparently tired of getting asked the same question every Friday morning. “I’m only going to be twelve miles away, Mom. And if I forgot anything, Sissy usually has it.”
That’s because Sissy Blake’s only nine years older than you, Maddy wanted to shout. And the spoiled-rotten snot gets whatever she wants, and for some inexplicable reason, she wants your daddy. “I’m sorry I got a little carried away scolding you last night, Sarah, but you scared the dickens out of me when I went to check on you and found your bed empty.”
“Rick put a ladder up to my window and asked me if I wanted to catch fireflies.” Sarah began pushing all the buttons on her door, making her window go up and down and the doors lock and unlock. Then she started adjusting all the vents she could reach, so the air-conditioning blew on her hair. “This is a really nice truck. Is it ours?”
Maddy smiled to herself, deciding to wait and see how long it took the little imp to realize that her seat was getting hot. “No, it’s Mr. Killkenny’s. We’re just borrowing it for this morning, because Eve’s car was . . . in an accident. I’m going to buy us a new car, but it might take a couple of days, so Gram will have to drive us around next week.”
Sarah started running the windows up and down again. “I like the leather seats, only they’re a lot warmer-feeling than Dad’s cloth ones,” she said, giving a squirm. “And I like that this truck’s so smart it automatically turns off the airbag, so I get to sit in the front. Instead of a car, can we get a new truck like this one? Maybe red, too?”
“Sorry, kiddo, not on the salary I earn—unless you don’t mind eating macaroni and cheese every day for the next six years.”
“Why don’t you just marry Mr. Killkenny, and then he can move in with us and Gram, and that way we can use his truck all the time? Now that Sissy’s moved in with Dad, he gets to drive the new car her parents gave her for graduation.”
“I don’t think getting a vehicle is a very good reason to marry someone, do you?”
“Well, you could have Mr. Killkenny’s baby,” Sarah suggested, looking at Maddy with absolutely serious eyes. “That’s why Dad’s marrying Sissy.” She suddenly smiled. “And that way, I’d get two new brothers or sisters. And I like Mr. Killkenny, because he doesn’t treat me like I’m five.” She suddenly wrinkled her nose. “When I spend the weekend at Dad’s, Sissy’s always trying to mother me.”
Maddy grinned out the windshield. “She’s going to be your stepmother, Sarah, and she’s just trying to make sure you like her. Now, let’s get back to your climbing out your window last night, young lady. Is there a reason Rick didn’t walk into the house and take you out the door to go firefly hunting?”
Sarah gave a little snort, and Maddy glanced over at her in surprise. Good Lord, had she snorted when she was nine? “Out with it, Sarah Jane, what did Uncle Rick say about why he didn’t come inside and get you?”
Sarah glanced over, her big brown eyes looking far too old for her age. “He said Trace decided you and Uncle Rick needed a vacation from each other, and that’s why he’s sleeping on Trace’s boat. But he missed me, so he snuck up to my window after you put me to bed.” She smiled, looking like a little girl again. “It was fun, Mom. I’ve never crawled out my bedroom window before.”
“And if I ever catch you doing it again, the television gets turned off for an entire month,” Maddy told her, figuring that in a few years, the girl was going to lose her television rights for forever.
God, she was growing up fast.
“So, will you get pregnant so Mr. Killkenny will have to marry you?”
Maddy put the brakes on at the intersection a little harder than she intended and blinked over at her daughter’s expectant expression. “Um . . . you do know that getting pregnant first and married after isn’t the way it’s supposed to work, don’t you?”
“You got pregnant before you married Dad. And so did Sissy.”
“Who told you I did?”
“Sissy. She said Dad has a thing for cheerleaders.”
Dammit to hell; she was going to have to sit that little cheerleading snot down and explain to her that Sarah was nine, not nineteen. “That’s because we were both . . . we didn’t . . . both Sissy and I were too young to know any better,” Maddy said with a sigh. She reached over and gave a soft tug on one of Sarah’s long braids. “But you will have the benefit of my experience, young lady, and will do things in the proper order. First comes love, then comes marriage, and then comes the baby carriage. Got that?”
Maddy glanced up into her rearview mirror when she heard the rev of a powerful engine behind them and saw a dark-visored, red-helmeted head looking at her over the tailgate. Realizing that she was just sitting at the Stop sign holding up traffic, she looked both ways and pulled out onto the main highway.
Checking her mirror again, she saw the motorcycle come up behind her and then suddenly pass. Only instead of zooming by, the idiot slowed down when he got beside her door, gave a wave with his left hand, and then zoomed ahead, slipping back into the lane in front of her just in time to miss an oncoming car.
“Oh, man, I’d give anything to ride on a motorcycle,” Sarah said, watching the bike lean into the upcoming curve and disappear.
“Not as long as I’m your mother,” Maddy said with a laugh.
“I bet Mr. Killkenny could talk you into letting me ride one.”
“What makes you say that?” she asked, looking over in surprise.
Sarah snorted again. “Yeah, like you would have let me ride a warhorse all by myself if he hadn’t pointed out that I’m not a kid.”
“That’s different. Mr. Killkenny knows horses, and I trusted his judgment.”
“What if he had a motorcycle? Would you let me go for a ride with him?”
Maddy gave a quick bark of laughter. “Mr. Killkenny has all he can do to drive this truck, Sarah. I sure as hell wouldn’t let you on the back of a motorcycle with him.”
Sarah held out her hand. “A quarter, please.”
“Damn,” Maddy muttered, reaching into the change pocket of her purse.
Sarah giggled, motioning with her open palm. “Make that two quarters. But I think I’m upping it to a dollar for each cuss word. That way I’ll be rich enough to buy my own car by the time I’m sixteen.”