Unholy Blue (19 page)

“I'll bet. Where's your dad?”

“Cor!” Bann's voice boomed from the kitchen. “Your pup just messed!”

“Coming!” Cor stood up, bounced twice to gain altitude, then launched himself off the mattress and bolted out of the room.

Taking advantage of the moment, Shay rose and slipped into the bathroom to dress—pajama pants and a hoodie, and socks against the chill of the morning. After
pulling her hair back into a ponytail, she grabbed her cooling coffee and headed for the kitchen.

A barefoot Bann was leaning against the counter, eyes thoughtful. Dressed in his most battered jeans with the knees ripped out and a faded T-shirt declaring “You've Got a Friend in Pennsylvania,” he was sipping from his favorite mug as he watched Cor dry the floor. On the other side of the sliding door, Sam paced back and forth, wanting in. His whining was muted by the glass.

Noticing the telltale crease between Bann's dark brows, Shay frowned herself. “What's wrong?” She walked over and opened the back door. Sam made a beeline for Cor.

The man started to speak, then paused. “Son, go make your bed and get dressed.”

“What about breakfast?”

“We'll eat afterwards. Go.” Boy and pup disappeared. He waited a beat, then lowered his voice. “I'm not sure how successful we'll be searching for Cernunnos this time without Max. The shapeshifter could be anywhere between here and the foothills near Hugh and Ann's.”

“True. But if Cor really did see the shapeshifter last night instead of a coyote,” Shay pointed out, “then at least we have a starting place. He had to have left
some
prints.”

“If we're lucky.” He took another sip. “I want to find his lair before he regains his former strength. The sooner we know where he is denned up, the sooner we can decide the best way to kill him.”

“So this is more of a reconnaissance mission than a hunt?”

“Yes, unless the opportunity presents itself.”

“In that case, do you want James and Rory to come along? You know they'll feel left out if we don't invite them.”

“That they would.” He thought a moment. “Four is sufficient—I'm counting on speed and stealth.”

“What about Hugh and Ann?”

“After the meeting last night, I'd feel better if I didn't put the clan leaders' lives in danger any more than is necessary. I spoke with them about it before we left. Although Hugh was not happy, Ann agreed with me.”

She plucked her cell from the charger. “Right. I'll see if the boys can meet us at Hugh's in a couple of hours. I hope he has enough iron weapons to arm us all.” As she waited for her cousin to answer, she nodded toward the hall. “Meanwhile, Cor can hang out and play with Neill since Sean and Jenny are staying a few more days.”

“Cor will like that—he spends too much time with adults. And your mother? Will she be staying, too?”

“She will.”

“Oh.”

Shay chuckled at Bann's carefully neutral face.

Two hours later, Shay was standing in the middle of Ann's kitchen, hands fisted by her sides to prevent herself from strangling her mother. “Considering all the hunting
you've
done, or rather,
not
done, I really don't see how you can say that,
Mom
.” The word meant the
woman who birthed her. The tone implied something else.

Isobel crossed her arms over her chest. “There is a difference, Shay Doyle, between a casual morning's hunt of some goblins, and facing
a god
! If that man really cared for you—”

Shay ground her molars together. “His name is Bann.”

“—he wouldn't be placing you in danger.”

Realizing her mother wasn't bothering to keep her voice down, Shay took her elbow and pulled her to the far end of the kitchen. “Look. I understand that you have some issues with Bann. But I really wish you'd move past them and get to know him, and Cor, before you make any more judgments.”

At that moment, Neill and Cor trotted into the kitchen and made a beeline for the refrigerator. Cor flashed a grin at her.

Hoping he hadn't heard their conversation, Shay pasted a smile on her face. “What are you guys up to?”

“Snack.” Neill opened the fridge.

After a few minutes of discussion, they selected a couple of cheese sticks. Using them as knives, they began poking each other even as they raced out of the room. Shay noticed with pride that Cor scored two hits on Neill before they disappeared. Their voices faded, but not before Shay heard Cor shout at Neill to “eat bronze, ye manky beast.”

“See?” She waved a hand at the empty doorway. “Won't it be nice for Neill to have a cousin—”

“Step-cousin,” Isobel corrected.

“—a cousin his own age,” Shay said through gritted teeth. “Jeez, why are you being this way?”

Isobel lifted her eyebrows. “Because I have the right to worry about my children. Your father died hunting a simple-minded goblin. And you want to take on a
shapeshifter
, just because that man—”

“His name is Bann!” Spit flew from Shay's mouth.

At that moment, the man in question appeared in the doorway, carrying his iron knife, the blade as long as his forearm. He nodded politely to the women and headed for the drawer where Hugh stored his whetstone and oil. A moment later, the room was filled with the
sweesh-sweesh
of iron on oiled stone. Shay's heart sank when he spoke, eyes fixed on his task.

“My apologies for overhearing your conversation.”
Sweesh-sweesh
. “But, Shay, I must admit that I agree with your mother—it would be best if you stayed safe behind these walls and minded Cor while I hunt Cernunnos.”

For a moment, Shay couldn't speak. Betrayal swelled in her throat, trapping the words behind it.
What the hell? How can he side with her?
It didn't help when her mother turned to her with a smirk of triumph. “You can't be serious—”

“In fact,” Bann continued, eyes fixed on his task, “I've decided to make some necessary changes, since we're to be wed. For certain, you will cease being a Healer.”

Shay's jaw sagged. Shock made her dim-witted.

“Wait.” Isobel's glee faded. “You…you want Shay to give up her profession?”

“She'll not have time for it, as she'll be busy caring for our home and children.” Bann paused and held up
the knife, eyes narrowed as he examined the edge of the blade. “There's no need for her to work outside the house.”

Shay finally figured out how to get her brain and mouth to work. But before she could speak, her mother jumped in. No surprise there.

“A bit extreme, wouldn't you say? My daughter has worked hard to become as skilled as she is, and we need a Healer. More than that, it's who she is.”

Retrieving her voice from wherever it had stepped out for coffee, Shay bit down on each word. “How dare you—”

“You said yourself, Isobel Doyle.” Bann overrode Shay. Again. Which was really starting to piss her off. “That if I really cared about my betrothed, I would do everything in my power to keep her safe. I am simply agreeing with you. That is why I will not allow her to step foot out of our home without me to guard her.”

“There's a wide difference,” Isobel said, “between
safeguarding
and
stifling
. She needs to have a life outside of her marriage.”

“Excuse me!” Shay waved her hand between them. “In case you two haven't noticed, I'm standing
right
.
Here
. And I don't appreciate being talked about like I'm a house plant.”

Bann stilled. He laid his knife on the counter in a studied manner, wiped his hands on his jeans, then turned. Something in his stance and the expression on his face made Shay hold back her next words.

“Aye, you're right. There
is
a difference between safeguarding and stifling.” He locked eyes with Isobel.
“Which is why I will never stand in her way, but I will always stand by her side.”

Isobel's lips tightened. “You think you're the clever one—twisting my words around. You know what I meant. A fancy speech is not going to keep her safe.” Without another word, she stalked out of the kitchen.

D
ID SHE UNDERSTAND WHAT
I was trying to do
? Waiting near the back gate of the clan leaders' yard, but far enough away to not feel the buzz from the wards, Bann adjusted the pair of sheaths on his belt. One held his iron knife—the same weapon that had destroyed the Stag Lord—and the other, a bronze knife. Tipping his head back, he closed his eyes, rolling his neck and trying to loosen muscles knotted with the tension from fighting a war on two fronts. The mid-morning sun was yellow-white in the flawless blue sky, and helped balance the chill of the November day—he could feel the solar warmth, like a kiss, on his face.

The kitchen door opened. He tensed.
Here we go
.

Shay appeared, talking over her shoulder to someone while she pulled on her fleece jacket. With a final word, she started across the yard. She not only carried an iron and a bronze weapon, but better yet, she wore her usual cheerful expression. His body relaxed.

“It'll be just another minute. Rory can't decide on a weapon. And James is setting up a computer game for the boys,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Bann played along. “What sort of game?”

“Knowing James, some kind of lame educational thing.” She zipped up her jacket, then glanced back at the house. “Okay, before the guys get here, I want to say something.”

“About the words I spoke to your mother?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“You understand I dinna mean them.”

“You didn't?”

“Of course not. I was trying to make a point about—”

“Bummer.” Her nose wrinkled, charming Bann all over again. “I really dug the whole ‘I will never stand in her way, but I will always stand by her side' speech.”

Gods, I love this woman
. “Ah. Well.
Those
words were true. The others were simply for effect.” He pulled her into his embrace.

Her own arms wrapped around his torso, she leaned back far enough to look him in the face. “She still has reservations about you.”

Something in Shay's expression forced him to make the offer. “If you wish to postpone…” He held his breath.

“No way. You're not getting out of it that easily. It's going to take more than
that
”—she cocked her head toward the house—“to call off our marriage, big guy.”

“Like what?”

“Just two things, actually.”

“And those are?”

“Either your death or mine.” Reaching up, she pushed that errant lock of hair off his forehead. Then she stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his.

“Are you two going to make out the entire hunt?” Rory said.

Bann glanced past Shay. James and Rory were strolling toward them. Rory was flipping an iron hatchet into the air as he walked, catching it neatly by the handle with each rotation. While James wore a double sheath like Bann and Shay, Rory was packing a bronze blade on one hip.

“Maybe.” Shay shrugged. “Why? You want some pointers?” Grinning, she stepped out of Bann's arms and led the way to the gate.

There, they waited. And waited. And waited some more.

“Oh, for the love of Danu.” James cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed. “Hugh! Anytime!”

A few moments later, Hugh came hurrying out the door and across the lawn. “Sorry. I was replacing a pile of weapons
someone
,” he glared at Rory, “left scattered across the floor of the basement.” He jiggled the latch, pushed the gate open, and waved them through, then lingered in the open gateway as they spread out, looking for tracks.

“Here.” Bann squatted. He touched the tip of his blade to a paw print in the dirt, then held a splayed hand over it, measuring it. “A bit large for a coyote.”

“Damn. The kid was right.” Rory shook his head. “I guess I owe him an apology.”

Bann rose, following the tracks with his eyes as they led westward.
Nothing between here and the foothills but forest
.

“Good hunting, all,” Hugh said, looking like a kid still hoping he'd be picked for dodgeball even after the game had begun. “And watch your backs.”

“Right.” Bann started off, the others behind him. The gate closed with a
thump
.

Using every bit of skill he had—
which, in all honesty, is not much
—he tracked along, following the prints as they detoured around a stand of pines, then up a hill until they merged onto a well-used deer trail. The mix of paw and hoof prints made the scars on his stomach throb anew. Shaking off foreboding, he checked back and grunted in approval when he saw Shay and the younger Knights walking to one side so as not to erase the prints.