Unholy Blue (3 page)

A
S THE AUTOMATIC GATES
swung open to Hugh and Ann's wooded lot high in the foothills overlooking the city, Bann rubbed the back of his neck, tight with the tension of the last week's scramble. As well as the last year's flight from the monster.

That same monster was now back, this time in dog form.
And not just any dog, but Shay's beloved hound
. Fate had to pound him into the dirt once again.
Because that's what Fate does to you
, Bann thought
, when you are the long-son of the High King of Éireann, Brian Boru. And the cursed recipient of a thousand-year-old grudge from the Stag Lord himself
.

Except…

Fate also sent me Shay Doyle
. He glanced over. The last rays of the sun created a halo around her hair of the exact shade of the gold torc around his throat.
How can I have lost my heart so quickly? And Cor loves her, as well
. A tiny voice spoke in his head.
Because she was a friend first, when you both needed one. And love based on friendship has a thrice-blessed strength
. He slipped a hand inside his jacket pocket and touched the velvet-covered box with his fingertips. With a rueful shake of his head, he reached over and wrapped his hand around hers. “
Mo
chara
,” he said softly in Gaelic, meaning more with the words than just “my friend.”

Steering one-handed along the pine- and spruce-lined driveway, Shay squeezed his fingers back. In a crunch of gravel, she pulled over to one side of the spacious parking area in front of a house that could best be described as “over-the-top Colorado lodge mansion.” A wide porch greeted them. It was graced with massive posts crafted from Ponderosa pines that had been green shoots on the forest floor when Bann was a sapling of a boy, himself.

“I don't know which one is worse—you or Cor.” Shay grinned. Her nose, dusted with just the right amount of freckles, crinkled in a way that had charmed Bann almost from the moment he had first seen her. “You're both such cranky-butts when you're tired.”

In awe of her ability to simply let go and move on, unlike his late wife, who felt it was her duty to win every bleedin' argument—and leave bodies in her wake—Bann's heart lightened. “Oh, to be sure, Cor is worse than I.”

“Uh-uh,
you
are. Big ol' cranky-butt.” Cor's voice held a hint of disbelief that he dared to use Shay's phrase to his father.

“Is that so?” Bann climbed out. Stretching his arms over his head, he waited until the boy swung open the car door and dropped to the ground. Then, with a lightning-fast move, he grabbed Cor around the middle. Ignoring the squawk of protest, he threw his son over his shoulder. “And would an
old
cranky-butt be able to do
this
to a boyo who has shown such disrespect to his da?”
Holding the boy face down with one arm, he began tickling Cor with his free hand.

“No!” Cor shrieked in protest, struggling and almost breathless from giggling. “Shay, save me!” He stretched out a hand in desperation.

Shay joined them. “Sorry, kiddo. I only play on the winning side.”

“Bannerman Boru!” A voice boomed from the porch. Still holding Cor prisoner, Bann turned.

Hugh Doyle stood beaming in the open doorway, red hair and beard flaming in the light from the foyer. The same height as Bann, but stockier, Shay's uncle waited as they climbed the steps to the porch before extending a hand. “Good to have you home again.” They clasped each other's forearms in the traditional greeting. “And I see you've captured a monkey.”

“A cheeky one, at that.” Bann swatted Cor lightly on the rump before setting him down and shooing him inside. “What is this I heard about my son burning down the play structure?”

“Not deliberately. In a way, Rory did,” Hugh said, naming one of Shay's many cousins. “By pouring too much lighter fluid on the barbeque. Cor simply flung the potholder, which had caught on fire, away from everyone. It had the misfortune of landing on a section of jungle gym—”

“—the section made from those
old, dry timbers
.” Shay pointed out. “The one-hundred-year-old timbers.”

“The structure went up in a blaze before we could stop it,” Hugh finished. “Which was a blessing, as I have been meaning to tear that down for some time now.
Your son simply saved me the trouble.” Hugh beamed. “A thoughtful lad, as I oft say.”

Bann looked from Hugh to Shay and back again. Then he gave up. “Right.”

“There you are, Bann.” A dark-haired woman, slender and a head shorter than Shay, with a body and features that always reminded him of Audrey Hepburn in the prime of her life, hurried out the open door.
An Audrey Hepburn with a wicked sense of humor and the ground-fighting skills of Boudicca
, he thought.

“Annwen Doyle.” He took both her hands and bent over to kiss her on the cheek.

She smiled archly up at him, smoothing a lock of her chin-length hair behind one ear. “That's it? Just a peck on the cheek?”

“I was showing restraint. Seeing that your husband is standing a knife's length from me.”

Ann pulled him closer and tilted her face up. “Oh, for the Goddess's sake, Irish up and greet me properly.”

Bann kissed her again, this time on the mouth.
Wait for it
, he thought, enjoying the innocent flirting and prolonging the kiss, much to Ann's pleasure.

“Hey!” Shay and Hugh protested at the same time.

Laughing, Bann and Ann broke off, both grinning at their lovers. Or in Ann and Hugh's case, lover
and
spouse.
I wish for that, too
. His elbow nudged the lump in his jacket.

“Kiss me wife-mate like that again, Bannerman Boru,” Hugh growled, giving his brogue free rein, “and I'll kick yer arse, be ye the long-son of the High King or no.”

“She's a fine woman. Worth fighting for, Hugh Doyle.” He wrapped an arm around Ann and gave her a hug. His face flushed when she patted his butt before slipping from his side.

“I love it when men fight over me.” Ann spoke over her shoulder, allowing herself to be led away by a laughing Hugh. They disappeared inside.

Shay edged closer. “She copped a feel, didn't she?”

“Do you blame her?”

“Damn, but you're arrogant.”

Bann glanced around the empty porch, then took her hands and walked backwards, tugging her along, until he reached the railing. Sitting down, he captured her between his legs.

With a smirk, Shay leaned closer and entwined her arms around his neck. “Or should I say
cocky
?”

“A fitting term.” Lowering his head, he fastened his lips on hers. The warmth and softness of her mouth was a drink of mulled wine, all heat and spice and with a splash of brandy. He pressed harder, needing more, and parted her lips with his own. The
yield
of her mouth sent his blood rushing south. Shay matched him lip for lip, tongue for tongue. He slid his hands along her hips and cupped her buttocks, reveling in the way each cheek fitted perfectly in his hands.
Like she was fashioned by the Goddess Herself for me, and I for her
.

“Um…”

A boyish voice made him break off the kiss. Keeping his arms around Shay, he glanced over at Cor fidgeting, ill at ease, in the doorway. A part of Bann was embarrassed to have his son see him fondle a woman who was neither his wife nor Cor's mother.
Yet
.

“Cor?”

“Ann says supper's ready.”

“We'll be along directly.”

“'Kay. I'll tell her.” At that, Cor whirled around, banging into the doorframe in his eagerness to escape.

Sighing, Shay started to pull away. “We'd better get in there. Ann's a tyrant about food getting cold.”

“A moment.” He tightened his arms around her. “There's something I wanted to discuss with you. I've had a change of heart regarding our sleeping arrangements.”

“So you
don't
want to share the guest room with Cor anymore?” Her fingers toyed with hairs on the back of his neck, sending shivers through him.

“I do not. After all, he slept in Ann's guest room all week by himself. I think this would be a good time to…” His voice trailed off as he tried to put into words what he was thinking.

“Establish the next level in our relationship in a more open, honest way in front of the child.” At Bann's surprise, Shay grinned. “I read that line once in
Cosmopolitan
. So, you and I will be sleeping together from now on?”

“Well, I dinna say anything about
sleeping
, mind ye.”

“Hey, I was trying to keep it classy around here. What I
really
meant was…” She leaned forward and whispered in his ear.

Flooded with heat, his groin protested about tight jeans and Bann's seated position. He shifted uncomfortably as she finished with a flick of her tongue along his earlobe. Stepping back, she grabbed his hands and
pulled him to his feet, then glanced down at his crotch with a smirk.

“Need a minute? Or a cold shower?”

I'd prefer a room for two and a locked door
. “Tormenter.”

“Better get used to it, big guy.”

Thinking of other things he'd rather get used to, he ushered her inside the foyer. Over their heads, oak timbers soared up two stories, arching like tree boughs. In front of them, wide sweeping stairs bisected the house. Turning left, they passed through the spacious dining room decorated with rustic pine furniture and the elk antler chandelier that Bann had always found unsettling to sup beneath. He was grateful when they continued on to the kitchen.

The aroma of pork chops—
a poor man's feast and a rich man's table scraps
, his old master had often said—greeted him. Joining the threesome already seated at one end of a table long enough to easily feed a dozen, Bann held Shay's chair before taking his own between woman and boy. Beside the chops, there was a salad of fresh spinach leaves and pine nuts, a large bowl of green and yellow squash sautéed in garlic butter, and a wooden serving board stacked with slabs of thick brown bread, still warm from the oven. The feeling of
home
settled over him like a hand-stitched quilt on a winter night. Serving bowls and platters made the rounds. He was surprised when he had to pull rank with his son only once in regards to the salad. It took just one raised eyebrow to settle the matter.
Shay must be continuing her mission to encourage the lad to eat more fruits and vegetables
.
The gods know we ate poorly during our year on the road
.

Bann spoke. “Ann. Hugh. I wish to thank you for helping Shay care for Cor this past week. It eased my mind to know they were here with you behind these walls.”
These walls warded with some of the strongest spells I've ever known
.

“Speaking of which,” Shay said, “Rory and James helped me put up a fence around my property the day you left for Pennsylvania.”

“Did you have it warded?”

“The very next day. The druidess who performed the ceremony for Hugh's and Ann's did it, so you know this is one Old Country level of protection. The only people who can remove those wards without getting blasted are the five of us, plus James and Rory. We thought we'd keep the numbers low.” Shay made a face. “Although Orwren O'Siobhan was her usual prissy self. I hate working with her, the old hag.”

“Why?”

“She thinks she's all that.”

Bann looked at Ann sitting across from him, who said, “A bit of professional rivalry between our Healer and our druidess. However, Orwren
is
very good at her job.”

Relief filled Bann at the peace of mind the fence, protected by magic, would provide. A sudden thought struck him. “But how did the druidess include me in the ceremony without my physical presence?”

“Yeah, that…” Shay's cheeks reddened. Before she could speak, Ann chimed in.

“Pretty clever solution, actually. Orwren just needed a drop of your
essence
, as she called it, for the ceremony. Since Shay had not emptied the trash in her bathroom yet—”

“Ann,” Shay hissed, looking meaningfully at Cor, then caught Bann's eye over the boy's head.
Condom
, she mouthed.

“Say no more.” Bann felt his own face burn.

“Dad?” Cor looked up. “Is the fence to keep
him
out?”

“Actually, it's the
wards
that will help keep us safe from such creatures.”
The gods willing
, Bann thought.

“Like the wards that used to be on Shay's house?” When his father nodded, Cor frowned. “But those… those F-Fir Bolgs still got in.”

Bann's heart bled at Cor's stutter. Then the old rage roared to life at the thought of what those monsters had done to his son. Even though he had killed the Fir Bolg who had molested Cor, Bann still found himself lying awake in the depths of night, hands fisted as the images of that day played over and over in his head, freezing at each horrific frame to remind him that it was his fault. That he had failed his child when Cor needed him the most.

“Quinn Tully knocked them down, not the Fir Bolgs. Remember, son? And
these
wards are even stronger. No one can remove them but us, or they will be severely injured or even killed,” Bann said, swallowing his self-loathing. Again. He stabbed at a bit of meat hard enough that the fork tines
tinked
against the china. “Like the wards on Hugh and Ann's wall. That's why we're never to touch them.”

Cor frowned. “
I
touched the wall and nothing happened.”

Bann's fork paused in midair. “When?”

“When you got hurt. I opened the gate.”

Ann palmed her forehead. “I wondered how he had gotten outside the yard. It had slipped my mind until just now.”