Bayou Moon (60 page)
Authors: Ilona Andrews
She looked away. She’d packed nothing.
“Do you need help with your things?” he asked.
“I’m not going.”
Gustave frowned, wrinkles gathering on his forehead. “So you plan to abandon all of us? Grandma, your cousins, me. Sophie.”
Cerise glanced at the soft chair, where Lark curled up, asleep.
She didn’t have an answer, so she just looked away.
“Tell me about it,” he said.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Do you think I wouldn’t understand?” he asked softly. “They took your mother away from me. Ripped her out of my hands. That was the last time I saw her, terrified, dragged away. I know what it feels like, Ceri. I do.”
She swallowed. “He didn’t come for me. I love him. I thought he loved me, but he didn’t come for me.”
“Maybe you should go to him,” he said gently. “He might be waiting.”
She shook her head. “I talked to the Mirror’s people. He lied to me again, Papa. He told me he had nothing, but apparently he’s rich. He’s related to the Marshal of the Southern Provinces. It’s a big deal, from what they say. He told me he was a bounty hunter, that he was normal, that he had nothing, and I believed him. Why is it I always believe him? Am I stupid?”
“Men lie for many reasons,” Gustave said. “Perhaps he wanted to make sure that you love him for who he is, not for his money.”
“He told me he loved me, too. How do I know it’s not another lie?”
Gustave sighed. “The man came to get me out of Kasis. He didn’t owe that to us, Ceri. He came for me because I’m your father.”
She shook her head. “He knows where the house is. It would take him a day to get down here. If he wanted to, he would be here already. He’s changed his mind, Papa. He decided he doesn’t want me, and I’m not going to beg. I won’t be showing up on his doorstep in all of my Mire glory, asking him to come and lift me from the mud. I have some damn pride left.”
Gustave sighed. “I want you to start packing tomorrow.”
She didn’t answer. What was the point of talking anyway?
He sighed again and left. Cerise waited until he closed the door and then cried quietly, curled up in her chair.
ANOTHER gray day. The view from the balcony looked much the same.
William shook his head. She wasn’t coming. He had to clench his teeth and move on.
Steps echoed behind him. One of Declan’s deputy marshals, on loan until William could get his own people sorted out. He had no idea how to do that.
“M’lord, Gustave Mar is here.”
Great.
“Show him in, please.”
“Show him in, please.”
A few moments later Gustave joined him on the balcony. Lean, dark. Like Cerise. Same eyes, same posture.
Gustave bowed.
“Don’t,” William told him. “Here.” He pulled a chair from the small picnic table and sat in the other chair himself. “What can I do for you?”
“I came to thank you for saving my family. And for helping Genevieve and sparing my daughter that burden. I don’t know what is proper to say, but I want you to know, I’m grateful. If you need me, I’ll be there. All of us will be there.”
William nodded, uncomfortable. “Thank you.”
They looked at each other. Silence stretched.
“A drink?” William asked.
Gustave exhaled. “Yes.”
William went inside and brought out a bottle of wine and two glasses. He filled the glasses. Gustave sampled his. “Good wine.”
“Not as strong as the one at your house.”
“Ahh, yes. I will miss that. We may have to make excursions into the Mire to gather the berries.”
“Better bring a small army,” William said.
Gustave grimaced. They drained their glasses and William refilled them.
“How’s the moving going?” William said to say something.
“Good,” Gustave said. “A bit slow. There are only fifteen able-bodied adults left, and half of them are injured. Cerise is doing the best she can. We should be about done. The end of this week will be our last dinner at the house. We would be honored if you joined us. We’re easy to find from here—just follow the river. I know it would mean a lot to my daughter.”
“She doesn’t want to see me,” William said.
Gustave rubbed his face. “You’re right. She doesn’t want to see you. That’s why, ever since I’ve returned, my daughter is snarling at everyone and everything. She’s not sleeping. She is not eating. And let’s not forget the crying. She never was a crier. Even as a child.”
“What are you saying?”
Gustave rose. “I’m saying that my daughter thinks you’ve abandoned her. She thinks that you don’t want her anymore, that it’s all over, and it’s breaking her heart. She is too proud to come and beg, and I have gathered that you are too proud to come and get her. The Hand and the feud ripped away my wife, William. She was my life . . . my everything. They almost destroyed my family. I hate to stand by and watch this cursed mess crush my daughter as well. Think on it. Please.”
He left.
Ten minutes later William left for the Mire.
THE Rathole was as he remembered, William decided, flicking his furry ears. He lay downwind of the house by the roots of a large pine. He’d gone to ground here for about an hour. The Mirror’s people guarding the house spotted him but let him be.
Cerise was inside.
He kept trying to catch her scent, but it just wasn’t there.
If he went in and she told him to leave . . . He wasn’t sure he would. He didn’t know what the hell he wanted. All his plans ended with “Get to the house.” Now he was at the house, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it.
The screen door opened. Lark ran down the steps. She wore jeans. Her shirt was clean and her hair was brushed out. She carried a stack of clothes in her hands.
She turned and headed straight for him.
William sank deep into shadows under the pine trying to look smaller.
She stopped a few feet away. “I can see you, you know. You’re as big as a horse.”
William whined at her.
Go away, kid.
Go away, kid.
Lark put the clothes on the ground. “She’s in the inner yard. Dad said you can go around over there through the door in the side, so you don’t have to go through the whole place.”
She turned and left. William sighed and pulled the wild deep inside him. Pain racked his bones and then he was human again. He slid his clothes on and went to the side door, through the hallway, and into the inner yard.
The flowers still bloomed in the small garden along the wall. The weapon rack was out, and past it, Cerise practiced just as she had on that morning four weeks ago. All that was missing were Kaldar and Gaston chatting on the sidelines and Grandmother Az perched on the stone bench.
Cerise’s blade sliced through the air with refined grace. So beautiful . . . So, so beautiful. So fast and deadly and . . .
She saw him. Her cuts gained a new vicious edge.
He had to be smart about this, but he didn’t know what to say. He would do anything if she still wanted him.
“Hello, Lord Sandine,” she said. “Thank you for saving my father. We owe you a debt.”
William strode to the weapon rack and chose a seneschal blade. It was the biggest, longest, heaviest sword on the rack. It would take him ages to swing it.
Cerise battled the air with lithe quickness, still preternaturally fast in her strikes.
William cleared his throat. She turned and looked at him.
“A deal,” he said. “We fight. If you win, I’ll walk out of here and never bother you again. If I win, you’ll come away with me. You’ll be my mate and you will live with me always.”
He almost cursed.
Smooth, right.
Smooth, right.
Her sword pointed at him. Cerise looked at his weapon. “You’ll lose. I’ll slice you to ribbons.”
William swung his bulky sword, warming up his wrist. “That’s fine.”
“You are a stupid, stupid wolf.”
“Less talk, more fighting.”
They clashed in a clang of steel.
Cerise dropped her blade and threw her arms around his neck.
EPILOGUE
CERISE sipped her tea. The morning was gray and a little damp. The night left some dew on the wicker chairs sitting on the balcony and it was making her jeans wet, but she didn’t care. She liked sitting like this, early in the morning.
The woods here came almost right to the house. These were real woods, thick oaks and maples and pines. From her perch she could see clear across the lawn to where the trees started. Somewhere out there William prowled. He liked to take off early in the morning and hunt. The house grated on him a little. He would’ve preferred a much smaller place and so would she, but this was the only house among Casshorn’s holdings that was close enough to Declan’s manor. It would be all right. They would make it into a home eventually. Or just build a smaller place. She did kind of like the huge stone balcony. And the pool was nice. Gaston loved it to pieces. But a smaller place would be better.
Cerise sipped her tea. So nice and quiet. Yesterday the four kids—Lark, Gaston, George, and Jack—had gotten ahold of some Rollerblades, specially made for them by someone in Declan’s family. They had themselves a race down the long marble hallway, and then somehow it turned into a brawl, the way it usually did.
The kids were at Declan and Rose’s today. Cerise first met Declan and Rose about two months ago. Lark and the boys hit it off right away, and Declan and William were friends, but she wasn’t that wild about meeting Rose. For one thing, William had liked her at some point.
He was hers now. Her wolf. Cerise smiled. Still, when she first saw Rose, it didn’t help either. Rose was taller than her by about four inches. Her hair was honey brown and perfectly styled, her gown looked expensive, and she was pretty. Too pretty.
Cerise had worn jeans, a white blouse, and she’d left her hair down because William liked it that way.
The kids went one way, the men went the other, and Cerise had to sit with Rose on the terrace.
“So you’re from the Mire in the Edge?” Rose said after a while.
“Yes.”
“That’s why the jeans?”
“Well, I tried a gown,” Cerise said. “I looked very nice in it. I wore it long enough to take a picture, and then I took it off. It looks very pretty hanging in a closet.”
Rose looked at her. “Will you excuse me?”
“Sure.”
About five minutes later Rose came out wearing a pair of threadbare jeans and a T-shirt and carrying two bottles of beer. “I’ve been saving them. They’re from the Broken.”
She popped the tops and passed one over to Cerise. They clinked beer necks and drank.
The boys and Lark disappeared into the trees.
“My youngest brother killed a lynx yesterday,” Rose said. “Apparently it came into his territory and left some spray marks. He skinned it, smeared himself in its blood, and put its pelt on his shoulders like a cape. And that’s how he came dressed for breakfast.”
Cerise drank some beer. “My sister kills small animals and hangs their corpses on a tree, because she thinks she is a monster and she’s convinced we’ll eventually banish her from the house. They’re her rations. Just in case.”
Rose blinked. “I see. I think we’re going to get along just fine, don’t you?”
“I think so, yes.”
And somehow they did. Now they had a babysitting arrangement: one weekend Rose had the kids and one weekend she did. She didn’t mind. Jack was a small feral William. He was trouble, but he was a good kid. He worshipped William, and Lark and he were like two peas in a pod. She couldn’t quite figure out George yet. He was very quiet and polite, but once in a while his eyes would light up and he’d say something really funny. It was almost like there were two Georges: the well-mannered version and the hidden wry one who lived to make trouble.
But today they were gone, off to Rose and Declan’s. Which meant that this morning she and William would be alone in the house.
A black wolf burst from the forest and charged the house. Cerise smiled.
The wolf changed in mid-leap, turning into a very naked William. She craned her neck a little to get a better look. Mmmm . . . He vanished below the balcony. A moment later William swung himself over the balcony rail and flopped in the chair next to her, still stark naked and slightly sweaty.
She looked at him through half-closed eyes. “You’re lucky the kids aren’t here.”
He leaned over, his eyes wild. “But the kids are gone. We can have a nice lazy breakfast and then we can nap.”
“We just got up.”
“You just got up. I’ve been up for hours.” He leaned over and kissed her lips. She tasted him, smelled the light musk of his sweat. His tongue explored her mouth, and when they broke apart for a breath, she had to remind herself that taking her clothes off on the balcony wasn’t a good idea.
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