Unholy Blue (17 page)

“May the Goddess bless your union. I understand you have a son, as well?”

Bann turned toward the group of children. “The dark-haired one with the pup. Cor? Come to me.”
Handing the leash to Neill, Cor trotted over with a look of curiosity.

Laying a hand on Cor's shoulder, he presented the boy to the other Knight. “My first-born, Cormac. Son, this is Knight Gideon Lir.”

Cor's eyes widened as he sucked in a breath. “The Knight who made the Spear? The Spear of the Tuatha Dé Danaan?”

One corner of Gideon's mouth quirked up. “Sorry to disappoint, but I am merely a descendent of that legendary blacksmith.”

“Oh.” Cor thought for a moment. “But do you have it?”

“The Spear? Nay, lad.”

“But I thought it belonged to you. Isn't it also called Gideon's Spear?”

“It is sometimes known by that name, but the Spear was lost centuries ago. Now, we must battle the goblins with only our wits and our blades and the strength of the Song. No magical weapons for us.”

Cor nodded, then added. “I know the Song. Dad taught it to me.” He pointed at the greenish ash powdering Gideon's jacket. “Is that from goblins?”

“'Tis. A pair of troublesome
Amandán
will be troublesome no more.”

“I'm going to be a Knight and learn to hunt them, too.”

“Why, are you not one already?” Gideon tapped the boy on his right shoulder. “Perhaps hiding the mark of Knighthood under your clothing?”

Giggling, Cor shook his head, grinning up at Gideon, who smiled down at the young face.

“Run along now, son.” Bann watched as Cor sprinted away. His heart tumbled after the boy, as it always did.

“A fine lad,” Gideon said.

“Aye, he is. Do you have any—”

“I heard he killed the shapeshifter. A remarkable feat for one so young. A true Boru, eh?”

Sensing that he had touched upon a matter best left alone, Bann played along. “More than myself. Cernunnos caught me flatfooted. If it were not for my son and for Shay's hound, I would be sleeping under stones right now. And, unfortunately, the shapeshifter has returned.” At Gideon's look, he described the dog's sacrificial defense of him and Cor, and the subsequent discovery that Max's corpse had been possessed by the shapeshifter and was now hunting the surrounding area and killing members of the Tully clan.

“So. That would explain it,” Gideon said softly, as if to himself.

“Explain what?”

“I've hunted these foothills since the late eighteen-hundreds and have come to know these woods well. During the last week or so, I've noticed prints in areas where dogs rarely venture. And too large for fox or coyote.”

“Wolf, perhaps?”

“Doubtful, unless a pack has migrated south from Wyoming, which is highly unlikely. Now, I'm thinking from your tale that it must be Cernunnos. A fearsome adversary. More so than the
Amandán
.”

“It gets worse.” Shay joined them, a dripping bottle in each hand. She handed one to Bann. “The Tully clan has practically declared war on us Doyles, with Bann
and Cor as their primary targets. They think he brought Cernunnos into our midst, which, as Bann said, led to three of their members being killed recently.”

Gideon's face hardened. “The Tullys have been a blackthorn clan for centuries. And they bear
me
little affection. In fact, one member would drink and dance in celebration upon my burial cairn, then piss on it afterwards.” He shook his head. “You may have gained a foe as dangerous as Cernunnos. Weston Tully has a reputation as a leader who holds a grudge tighter than any lover.”

“No kidding.” Shay took a swig. “Three of them already tried something yesterday.” She told him about the episode with Sam. “We think they were actually checking out our home,” she finished.

“To test your defenses?”

“Could be. We've got some fierce wards up all around the property, though. So whatever they had planned, it wasn't going to work.”

“Not while you're safe behind those walls, Healer,” Gideon said. “But you cannot live your life locked away. Nor looking over your shoulder watching for the enemy.”

Shay's very words
, Bann thought. “Enemies. Meaning Cernunnos? Or Tully?”

“Unfortunately, both. However, I would suggest…” Gideon's voice trailed off. He gave a short laugh. “Now, would you look at me? Offering counsel when I have, as the expression goes, no skin in the game.”

“You've more years of battle experience than this entire clan put together.” Bann swept his arm around the yard. “I would welcome your advice.”

“Then I would advise you to do as you did earlier—take the fight to the enemy.”

“Cernunnos?” Shay asked.

Gideon nodded. “You said, Boru, that the god himself acknowledged an inability to shapeshift. Which means he may be weaker at the moment. His death would solve a multitude of problems, eh?”

“Well, well. Wonders never cease.” They turned. Ann was sauntering toward them, her eyes fixed on Gideon.

“Annwen Doyle.” The black-haired Knight inclined his head.

“Gideon Lir.” She took his hands in hers.

“The years touch you not at all, Lady,” Gideon said in Gaelic.

Ann laughed. Releasing the Knight, she smiled up at him. “You are hopelessly old-fashioned, my friend,” she replied in English. “‘Lady' is a title no longer used for a clan leader, you know. But I appreciate the compliment, nonetheless.” Her eyes twinkled. “Now, what were you saying about hunting down that monster?”

T
RAILING A STRING OF
“pardon me” and “sorry” behind him, Bann edged through the crowd of Doyles still packing the living room, even though the sun had set several hours ago. He broke free and stepped into the entryway, ears ringing from the din of voices behind him, all arguing at once. He glanced around. A half-dozen or so younger Knights, a mix of men and women, were seated on the wide stairs, drinks in their hands, talking. He noticed Rory and James, as well as Laney, among the stair-sitters.

Catching James's attention, he called. “Have you seen Cor?”

James pointed up with his beer bottle. “Jenny took him and Neill to the upstairs den to watch television when she put Meggie to bed,” he called back. Rising, he murmured something to the young man sitting next to him, clapped him on the shoulder, then wound his way around the others and joined Bann. He nodded toward the living room. “They still can't make up their minds, I take it?”

“A difficult decision.” Bann frowned. His head throbbed from trying to match Rory boilermaker to boilermaker earlier.

“Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised, even after what those douchebags tried to do to Cor's puppy. Look how many of them didn't want to face the Stag Lord last month.” He grinned. “They missed out on all the fun. Oh, sorry.” Chagrin replaced the look of amusement. “Well, except for you getting gored. And what happened to poor Max.
That
wasn't so fun.”

“It was not.”

“And now the Tullys seem to be gunning for the rest of us as well.” James shook his head. “Tribal warfare. It's so…so
medieval
.”

“Which is why they're still discussing it. There are enough older Knights here who had parents and grandparents who lived through the horrors of clan conflict and what it did to our people century after century.”

James shrugged. “We'll just have to be more covert about it this time. Of course, the death of the shapeshifter would solve everything. If the bastard would
stay
dead this time.”

Nodding absently, Bann thought back to something Gideon Lir had said just before he left to chase the sun home, in spite of Ann and Hugh's insistence he share a meal with them.

“Be mindful if you and the Tully clan
do
begin a war,” the Knight had cautioned them. “'Twas our warfare that brought our existence to the notice of the mortals in
Éireann
, which led, in part, to our exile from our homeland. You would not want a repeat here in Colorado.” He had paused, then offered his phone number to Shay. “Ring me if there be a need.”

“Not that we're ungrateful for the offer, but why?” Shay had asked as she entered his number into her phone.

Gideon had shrugged. “I have my reasons.”

“Dad?”

Bann looked up at the boyish voice. Cor fidgeted on the top tread, jacket on and Sam in his arms. The leash dangled from the puppy's harness.

“Sam needs to pee.”

“Come along, then.”

Cor put a squirming Sam by his feet. The Knights grinned as they all shifted to either side, letting boy and pup hurry down the stairs. Reaching the bottom, Cor grabbed the trailing leash, then he and Sam raced to the kitchen.

“Fiona and I'll watch them if you want, Bann.” Rory rose and offered his hand to the young woman from the porch earlier.

“Boru!” Hugh hollered from the living room.

Bann noticed the voices had quieted. “Thank you, Rory.” With a nod, he walked back, James on his heels.

Waiting by the back door, Cor locked and unlocked the deadbolt in a rhythmic series of
click-clunks
. Still on the lead line, Sam circled, winding the leash around the boy's ankles and sniffing the floor in a manner that told Cor his pup—it was always
his
pup when Sam did something wrong—was one minute away from release. “Hold on, Sammy. Dad's coming.”

Stepping free of the coil, he looked up in surprise when Rory and a woman appeared, both wearing jackets. The woman's hair was a brown mane of curls held away from her face with a wide headband. It reminded Cor of the hairstyle worn by the Irish step dancers his father always made him watch whenever they appeared on television. He never told his dad that the reason he had broken the lamp in his old bedroom was that he had tried dancing like that once in the privacy of his room. A high kick had sent the nightstand and the lamp crashing to the floor. Cor had never tried again. His biggest fear was that Dad might actually
make
Cor take dance lessons. He shuddered at the thought.

“Hey, Cor? Your dad went back to the meeting,” Rory explained. “I told him we'll go out with you. This is Fiona, by the way.”

“Hi, Cor. Oooh, I like your puppy.” Fiona bent over and patted the dog, who wiggled with delight, the attention momentarily distracting him from his full bladder. “What's his name?”

“Sam.” Cor unlocked the door; once outside, he released the puppy. Sam scampered off, searching for the perfect patch of earth to christen. Meanwhile, Rory and Fiona lingered in the doorway, talking softly, their arms around each other. When they started to kiss, Cor scrunched up his face in disgust.

Finally locating the ideal spot, Sam squatted in concentration. Cor always wondered what the dog thought about while peeing. After kicking dried grass over the damp patch, Sam darted away toward the
wooden gate set in the back wall, a small four-legged ghost in the darkness.

Cor ambled after him. Hands buried in his jacket pockets, he tilted his head back and blew out a foggy breath, pretending he was Gimli smoking a pipe.
I wonder if Dad would let me have an ax when I get older
. A faint buzzy hum from the wards, like an electric toothbrush, tickled his skin as he neared the tall, wooden gate. Unable to resist trying again, he paused, chewing on his lip, then reached out and touched the gate with a finger.

He winced when the familiar sharp pain lanced his temples. It faded after a few moments.
Hugh and Ann said nobody can touch the wall but them. But
I
can
, he thought in triumph. “Hey, Rory! Watch what I can do…” His voice faded away.

A low chuff from the other side.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention as his skin tightened in anticipation of fleeing the scene. With or without the rest of his body. Heart thudding against his ribs so hard it made him nauseous, he peered through the gap between gate and post. Seeing a vague shape, he pressed his eye closer.

A four-legged form stirred in the shadow of a large pine. Black within black. Then, to Cor's astonishment, a tail wagged, followed by a yip.

“Max?” he breathed. He started to reach for the latch when a weight pressed against his legs. He looked down. Sam was huddled next to his ankle, tail tucked between his back legs.

“It's okay, Sammy. It's just Max. He won't hurt—”

“Dammit, Cor!”

He flinched and whirled around. Rory was striding toward him. Alarm made the Knight's movements jerky. “Get the hell away from that gate!”

“But Max is out there.”

“Shit!” The Knight broke into a sprint, his already-drawn knife flashing in the light from the kitchen. Grabbing Cor's arm, he hauled him back, almost causing Cor to lose his balance. Sam yelped when the boy stepped on his paw.