The Cursing Stones Page 15

  “Maybe.”

  “Why just maybe?”

  Poppy squeezed her hand. “Seems to me there’s somethin’ in yer journal about the Cú Sídhe. Ain’t that true, Lachlan?”

  Her father grunted. “Might be you’re right,” he said, and went to pull the Grove Journal off the shelf.

  While he sat down at the table with the thick, leather-bound book, Rain let her head fall back and stared at the ceiling. “The day I’ve had,” she said. “Constable inspectors, angry villagers, not to mention eight hours of Brigid.” She wouldn’t mention the hex marks yet. Not until she found out what her father knew about this creature.

  “Constable inspectors?” Poppy said. “Far as I know, we’ve only got one of those. What’s Walsh got to do with any of this?”

  “He came by the apothecary. He thinks a druid was involved in Brody Barnes’ death.”

  Lachlan looked up sharply from the journal. “Did that Walsh bother ye, girl?”

  “Not too much,” she said. “He just asked a few questions.”

  “Ye tell me if he shows up again. I won’t have that bloody fool harassing my family.”

  For a minute she thought she’d cry. Her father had never been particularly protective. He’d always insisted that learning the hard way was the only way, and he’d allowed her to fail time and again. Fight her own battles, so to speak. “I will, Da’,” she said.

  “Right. I’ve found it.” The sentimental moment was apparently over. He tapped the open page of the book. “Ye can slay the Cú Sídhe with cold iron, tipped in the blood of its intended victim. That is, if ye can catch it.” He looked up with a frown. “Says here the beast arrives with the lightning and runs fast as the wind.”

  She couldn’t help shuddering. At least she had the intended victim part covered, though she didn’t look forward to tipping the sword in her own blood. “Does it say how to call it, or summon it or something?” she said.

  They both stared at her. “Are ye mad, girl?” Lachlan said. “Why would ye want to do such a thing?”

  Pressing her lips together, she rolled up her sleeve. “This is why.”

  The moment of silence stretched out forever. Finally, Poppy said hoarsely, “How did ye get those marks, Rhiannon?”

  “The banshee,” she said. “It scratched me when I was trying to kill it. And … the scratches got worse.”

  “Blasted faeries!” her father snarled, pounding a fist on the table. “Evil creatures, the lot of ’em.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, and his expression calmed a bit. “All right,” he said. “How long did ye say it was before the beast came for that Barnes?”

  “A week. Or so.”

  “It’s been three days already.” Lachlan clenched his jaw. “It’s time ye learned how to use that sword proper,” he said. “Ye’ll need to defend yerself when the black dog comes. If ye miss…”

  “She won’t miss,” Poppy said tightly. “She can’t.”

  “She’ll be trained, Ewan.”

  “I don’t disagree with ye. Not in the least,” Poppy said. “In fact, I know who’ll give the lessons.”

  Lachlan’s brow furrowed, and then he nodded as if Poppy had actually said something. “Arrange it for daybreak, then.”

  “It’s done.” Poppy patted her hand and stood. “We’ll not lose ye to this creature, my girl,” he said. “Ye’ll train under the best sword in this part of the world. Unmatched in combat and slaying.”

  “Who?” she said.

  “Well … best to wait and find out. I’ll go make the arrangements.” He reached down and hugged her tightly. “Not to worry, Rhiannon. We’ve beaten worse.”

  The hollow look in his eyes suggested he wasn’t buying his own words, but she decided not to mention it. “I know,” she said. “I’ll be fine, and that’s a promise.”

  “Ye’d better be.” He gave an uncertain smile and headed for the door.

  Just as Poppy left, Rain’s phone buzzed. She held a finger up in her father’s direction as she pulled it from her pocket. It was a number she didn’t recognize, but she decided to answer it. “Hello?” she said as she stood and paced away from the couch.

  “Miss Finlay.”

  She recognized the deep, cultured voice instantly. Duncan Aislinn, the new master of Aislinn Castle. And the last man her father wanted her talking to, for reasons he wouldn’t explain. “Yes,” she said, deciding against using his name so she could put off the explosion a little longer. “How are you?”

  “I’m well. Stronger every day,” Duncan said. “And yourself?”

  “Never better,” she lied.

  “That’s good to hear.” He paused, and she sensed a touch of awkwardness in the silence. “Well. I know this is terribly last-minute, but I wondered if you might join me for dinner tonight. Here at the castle, I mean.”

  She couldn’t help smiling. The man was obviously powerful, incredibly wealthy — he was paying her two hundred thousand dollars just to organize his library — and he sounded nervous as a schoolboy. Her father had made her promise not to get involved with Duncan, and for once she’d actually agreed with him. But having dinner with her employer wouldn’t hurt anything, and she did have an ulterior motive. She was just using him for his big library. “I’d love to,” she said. “In fact, I was just going to head your way now, if that’s all right?”

  “Perfect,” he said. “See you soon, then … Rain.”

  “Soon,” she agreed, and hung up.

  As she pocketed the phone, her father coughed once. “And who was that?”

  She turned slowly to face him, trying to think of a tactical way to frame this. “Da’, I can’t just wait around for that beast to attack,” she said. “There has to be a way to make it come when I’m ready for it, instead of having it show up when I’m not prepared. And that means I have to hit the books. At the library.”

  “Yer going up that castle, aren’t ye?”

  “Yes,” she said. “It’s the best chance I’ve got.”

  He stared at her for a long time. Finally his big shoulders slumped, and he said, “Take the car, then. Keys’re by the door.”

  She smiled at him. “Thanks for understanding.”

  “Go on, before I change my mind.”

  “I’ll bring it back without a scratch.” With a wave of thanks, she grabbed the keys and headed out.

  Chapter 35

  Aislinn Castle – The Great Room

  “You know, I kind of expected something a bit more … stuffy.”

  Duncan smiled across the table at her. “Then I’m glad to disappoint your expectations.”

  “In a good way,” Rain said. She’d entered the castle to find a lovely table set up in front of the great fireplace, where a cheerful fire burned. There’d been two place settings, but only one chair — which took her aback for a moment, until she remembered that Duncan used a wheelchair.

  She was also happy that Bastien, Duncan’s extremely unpleasant head of security, hadn’t answered the door this time. Instead it had been Tehgan the Silently Disapproving. She didn’t know anything about the man in green, except his name, but at least he never acted like he wanted to break her in half and bury her in a shallow grave.

  “So,” Duncan said, picking up the wine glass in front of him and swirling it around a bit. “How is the library coming along?”

  “Slowly but surely.” She’d come to work on it three nights so far and managed to clear the four tables in the center of the vast circular room, and scrub both them and the floor clean. On her last visit, she’d actually started sorting through the thousands of books and scrolls that had to be categorized and placed in some kind of order. “I’ve worked out a system,” she said. “Now it’s just a matter of implementation.”

  “And no small matter, I’m sure,” he said.

  “True. It’ll take some time, but I’ll get it done.”

  He smiled again. “I have every faith in your abilities.”

  “Thank you,” she managed, and grabbed for
her own wine glass as a distraction. That smile of his was almost hypnotic, and she kept hearing things in his tone that weren’t there. Seductive things. She sipped at the wine, and her eyes widened. “This is fantastic,” she said. “I’ve never tasted anything like it.”

  Duncan nodded. “Few have. It’s not readily available,” he said. “The wine is a very unique brew. Made from elderberries, believe it or not.”

  “Elderberries?” Some distant, long-forgotten piece of information tugged at her mind, having to do with elderberry wine. It was the favored drink of … someone, but try as she might, she couldn’t remember.

  So maybe her father had been right about one thing. She probably should’ve paid more attention to her lessons.

  Before she could decide on something else to say, a woman she’d never seen before materialized from the shadows just beyond the fireplace, pushing a wheeled cart with covered dishes. The woman had elegant features and waist-length blonde hair plaited into a loose braid, and wore the same style of loose, dark green clothing as Tehgan. She stopped at the table and began placing the dishes.

  Duncan smiled at the woman. “Thank you,” he said. “I’d like you to meet Rain Finlay — our new librarian, so to speak. Rain, this is Aithne. She is Tehgan’s wife, and my good friend, as he is.”

  Aithne placed the last dish and actually smiled at her. “Hello, Rain.” She spoke with a lyrical brogue that didn’t quite match any dialect Rain had ever heard. “I’m so pleased to meet you,” she said, extending a slim hand.

  Rain took it and returned the smile. “It’s wonderful to meet you, too.”

  “Aithne is an exceptional cook,” Duncan said. “I’ve never found her equal.”

  The woman flapped a hand at him. “You’ve never looked too hard. It’s passable at best.” She winked at Rain, and then took hold of the cart. “Ring if you should need anything else, and enjoy.” With that, she walked back into the shadows and vanished.

  Rain looked over the dishes. “It already smells fantastic,” she said.

  “It will be. She’s truly an artist.” Duncan adjusted his chair slightly. “Oh, before we eat. I have something for you,” he said, and produced a thick, cream-colored envelope.

  She took it with a smirk when he passed it across. “You wrote me another message?” she said. “You do know this is why I suggested you get a phone.”

  He laughed. “No message this time.”

  “All right. Now I’m curious.” She opened the envelope slowly, and drew out a single slip of paper.

  It was a check for fifty thousand.

  “I know this project will take you some time,” he said when she looked at him questioningly. “Didn’t think it was fair to make you wait for the end to get paid, so consider this an advance.”

  “Wow,” she stammered. “Thank you.” The money could be a minor miracle, provided the village bank would actually cash it. She could get her own transportation, make the final renovations she needed at the apothecary, and still have a lot left over.

  He nodded. “It’s the least I could do.”

  She was about to suggest they start eating when she felt eyes on her, the same way she had at the pub earlier. Brow furrowed, she scanned the room — and caught sight a hooded figure standing in the shadows by the fireplace, opposite the side Aithne had used. The face was completely hidden, but she could’ve sworn she made out glittering eyes glaring at her from within the depths of the hood.

  Then she blinked, and the figure was gone.

  “Rain?” Duncan said. “Everything all right?”

  “Sorry. I’m fine.” She must’ve imagined it, because no person could move that fast. Maybe the impending date with violent death had her seeing the Grim Reaper or something. She smiled at Duncan, and said, “Let’s eat.”

  Hallucinations or not, this dinner was going to be amazing.

  Chapter 36

  Aislinn Castle – Behind the Throne Room

  Dinner had been pleasant. But now that the girl was safely ensconced in the library, he had more unpleasant ingestion matters to attend to.

  At least, Duncan thought as he watched Aithne rise slowly from the chair, his companion didn’t insist on pushing the Seelie woman to the breaking point as he did with her mate. But he couldn’t accept blood from either of them too often, for at least the next week or so. He would not risk their health, and their sparks were now diminished with the waning moon.

  “Thank you for your gift, as always, Aithne,” he said.

  She gave a graceful nod. “You’re welcome, as always. Goodnight, Arthur.”

  “Goodnight.”

  She left the room, and Duncan prepared for a lecture from Emory — as Merlin was calling himself now around those outside their circle. To put it mildly, he hadn’t been pleased about the dinner invitation.

  “Drink, you stubborn fool,” Emory growled, pushing the silver goblet into his hand. “I hope you choke on it.”

  “Thank you, Merlin. Your concern for my welfare is ever appreciated.” With a sardonic smile, he lifted the cup and drank the cooling blood. Aithne’s was sweeter than Tehgan’s, a bit thicker for some reason.

  And he loathed himself for noticing that.

  “Well?” he said when he’d finished. “Aren’t you going to expound on my folly and tell me how I’m dooming us all?”

  “You damned well know that already.” Emory took the goblet back and waved a hand over it, leaving it spotless and gleaming once more. “That girl is a danger. And sooner or later, she will turn on you. Just like the last time.”

  “Is that why you were spying on us?” Duncan said quietly.

  “I did no such thing.”

  “Really,” he said. “Because Rain saw something that unsettled her a great deal in the shadows beside the fireplace, and I happen to know someone who has that effect on people. And druids. And nearly every living creature and some of the dead ones, come to think of it.”

  Emory snorted. “What if I did?” he said. “She should be unsettled. Making her feel welcome here is a mistake, Arthur.”

  “Then it’s my mistake to make,” he said. “Is it so wrong for me to enjoy the company of another person who happens to be female?”

  “She happens to be a lot more than female.”

  “That’s beside the point. I am human, after all.”

  “Not entirely,” Emory said with a smirk. “If you were, this treatment wouldn’t work.”

  “Yes, and I’d have been dust long ago. But I’m human enough.” Being half Seelie did have its advantages — near immortality among them. But even his Fae side had needs, and they hadn’t been met in decades. Perhaps he should be more careful.

  The last thing he wanted to do was hurt this intriguing girl. Guinevere reborn, and yet nothing like his queen had been, with no memory of her previous incarnations. She fascinated him more every time he saw her.

  “You have feelings for her already,” Emory said. “Don’t you?”

  “Of course not.” He spoke a bit more forcefully than he’d intended, as if he could deny it to himself.

  “Arthur, you’ve always been a terrible liar.” Emory moved slowly across the room, touching vials and bottles and bowls as he went. “She grows stronger still,” he said. “I can feel her down there, seeking answers. Soon she’ll find answers to questions she never thought to ask. And she will awaken.” He turned suddenly, a sallow grin on his face. “Let me poison her,” he said. “Just a touch. To keep her from returning.”

  “Enough, Merlin. You will not harm her.”

  “Very well.” His features grew dark and threatening. “But I will meet her. The next time she comes, I intend to introduce myself — and you will not stop me. There must be checks in place.”

  Duncan sighed. “All right. Just … try not to frighten her to death.”

  “I’ll be perfectly civil,” Emory said.

  “That’s what will frighten her.” As the initial powerful effects of the blood wore off, Duncan slowly flexed a hand,
and then a foot. His strength was returning at last. Soon he’d attempt to walk, at least a short distance, but it would be some time yet until he was ready to face the one he’d come here for. Luckily, his enemy also remained weak. “Has Lancelot sighted him yet?” he said.

  Emory nodded. “Briefly, on the moors,” he said. “He’s not able to keep himself fully in this realm yet. But I’m afraid we won’t have what we need to know until at least after the new moon. He fades with the waning phase, just as he’ll strengthen with the waxing.”

  “Much as I want to act quickly, I suppose we should wait,” Duncan said. “I’d prefer to be fully restored before I face him.”

  “A sacrifice, then,” Emory said too quickly. “I’ll bring a lowborn across the Veil and drain it—”

  “We’re not killing anyone.”

  “Except him, you mean.”

  “Yes,” Duncan said, his gaze unfocusing with the memories. “This time, he must die.”

  Chapter 37

  Druid Encampment – The Apothecary

  It was nearing midnight when Rain returned to the shop. She’d dropped the car off with her father, who reminded her that sword training lessons started at the crack of dawn. The instructor, whoever he was, would come to her. Then she’d called Kincaid and asked for a ride back here, so she could keep her promise and tell him what she’d found out.

  Which, unfortunately, wasn’t much.

  She’d used the Finding spell in Duncan’s library and managed to locate plenty of books and texts on black dogs. There were even a few specifically about the Cú Sídhe, which described the animal pretty much as Colm O’Shea had seen it. But there was nothing about locating, luring, calling, or summoning them.