The Stag Lord (34 page)

Only an iron blade, wielded by one of noble blood
. The words echoed in his head. He stretched his fingers toward the haft.

Another hand appeared out of nowhere. It reached down for the weapon.

Before Bann could stop him, Cor picked up the knife. Holding it in a two-handed grip, he marched over to the form sprawled on the ground. The boy stood looking down at the creature stirring feebly at his feet.

Then, with a scream, he plunged the iron blade into the Stag Lord's chest.

31

T
IGHTENING HER GRIP ON
her weapon, Shay ran toward the sound of a boyish shriek.
That's Cor
, she thought wildly.
What's he doing out here
?

She lengthened her stride, careless of the footing underneath. Legs and lungs, honed from years of cross-country running, helped her outdistance the others. James and Rory struggled through the woods behind her while Hugh brought the rear.

The back wall loomed up through the storm. She slowed, thigh muscles suddenly shaky and heart galloping out of control. “Oh, no. Please, no.”

Bann was kneeling on the ground, the snow around him stained a pinkish red. Cor crouched next to him, trying to keep his father from collapsing face-first into the gore. A few yards away, smoke rose from a man-shaped mound of ash. The stink of roasting venison filled the air.

Squatting beside father and son, Shay blinked back hot tears.
Focus
, she ordered herself. She sucked in a ragged breath. “Let me see.” With gentle fingers, she unzipped Bann's jacket and reached for his shirt. Hugh and the younger Knights hovered nearby.

“Max…first,” Bann rasped.

Shay turned. Beyond the dead shapeshifter, a furry body lay in a spreading crimson pool. Even before she could scramble over, she knew. Dropping to her knees, she laid her hand on the still-warm head and stroked it. Brown eyes blinked up at her in adoration. “Who's my good boy?” she whispered.

Max's tail thumped twice. Then it stilled as he left the world to run with Sirius in the next.

Swiping at her face, she hurried back to Bann. Their eyes met. She shook her head, not wanting to say the words aloud.

She carefully peeled his shirt up, the fabric wet and sticky.
Oh, gods
. A red apron covered his stomach, the holes still dribbling blood. Panic stabbed its own horns into her. She took a deep breath.
Okay. Okay, I can do this
. “We need to get you home.” She beckoned James and Rory over. “This is going to hurt.”

Bann nodded. He clenched his jaw as the Knights each took an arm. When they lifted him to his feet, she wondered what it cost him to not cry out.

By the time they got him into the house, the blood had soaked his jeans all the way to his knees. As James and Rory struggled to carry him inside and up the stairs, Hugh followed with a white-faced Cor in his arms.

“I'll see to the lad. You go save the father.”

For the next hour, Shay marveled at how much blood a person could lose and still remain conscious. Or alive. All the while, the part of her that was falling—had already fallen—in love with Bann wrung its hands in despair over the damage. The other part, the Healer part, fought to keep her patient from bleeding dry. She wished he would sink into unconsciousness as the Knight bit his lips raw.

“You are one lucky bastard, you know that, Bannerman Boru? If those prongs had gone any deeper, we'd be gathering stones for your burial cairn.” Bending over him, she dabbed salve into the last of the wounds, relief making her fingers unsteady. The aroma of
sláinte
nettle perfumed the room as it worked its magic.

Bann nodded, skin stretched tight with pain. He tried to lift his head from the pillow. He gasped, then let it drop down. His skin, pale to begin with, grew even whiter. “Cor?” he whispered. “How is he?”

She glanced over at the lump of misery curled up in an armchair in the far corner. She recalled how, in spite of Hugh's gentle urging to come away, the boy had wormed his way into the room and knelt beside the bed. The Knight had had to peel the boy's fingers, one by one, from his father's hand so that Shay, with Ann's help, could work without tripping over him. “Sleeping. As should you.” She straightened and set the bowl of salve on the bedside table. “I'll get you something to help.”

“Shay, about yer dog. ‘Tis my fault he—”

“Stop. Just…stop already. It wasn't
your fault
. It wasn't Cor's fault. So, let it go.” The last thing she wanted to do was talk about Max. Her heart just couldn't take grieving for her dog, stressing over Bann,
and
trying to keep Cor from melting down. “Be right back.”

Walking through her bedroom toward the bathroom, Shay glanced out the window. She wondered how it could only be midday. Snow continued to fall, but more slowly now, as if the storm had wrung itself out.

After passing her fingers over the item four times without noticing—
girl, get your head in the game
—she located the small bundle of valerian sachets tightly sealed in a plastic zippered bag. Too tired to walk all the way to the kitchen for hot water, she ran the faucet long enough for steam to rise, then filled a drinking glass and dropped one of the packets into it, holding the glass as far away from her nose as she could.
This stuff works like nothing else, but damn, does it stink
. As it steeped, she scrubbed her hands, making a face as she examined herself in the mirror. “Very attractive.”

Muck and blood and something nasty-crusty streaked her face. Her hair hung in strings around her face, the braid a mess. Pulling off the tie, she combed it out, rebraided it, then washed her face. As she patted it dry, a memory of Max, who always hovered in the bathroom door each morning while she got ready for the day, made her eyelids burn. Swallowing hard, she took a deep breath, then picked up the valerian and headed across the hall.

The sight of a now-awake Cor sitting cross-legged on the bed with his back to the door, blocking Bann's view, made her pause. Before she could announce her presence, she caught her name.

“I think Shay's mad at me,” Cor said in a quiet voice.

“She's not.” Bann sounded like it was all he could do to stay awake.

“Yeah, she is. ‘Cuz of Max.”

“My fault, son, not yours.”

A pause, then, “Dad, can we go home?”

“Home?” Bann said weakly.

“Back to our old home. I don't want to stay here anymore.”

Bann mumbled something, Shay wasn't sure what. Easing out of the doorway on silent feet, she tiptoed back to her own room and set the glass on her dresser. Knees shaky, she sank down on the foot of her bed.

Numbness. Like the moment when she had fallen out of the upper branches of a tree at the age of eight,
Cor's age
, and landed on her back in the grass. She had lain sprawled, lungs refusing to work and entire body deadened from the shock of impact.

They're leaving
.

The thought was a knife in her heart. A really sharp knife that someone kept twisting. Clenching her hands into fists, she gritted her teeth.
Okay, enough! You're a Healer. Start acting like one
. She picked up the glass and marched back across the hall. “I better warn you. This tastes worse than it…” She paused in the doorway.

Bann was asleep, face free of pain. Cor was gone. The sound of running water declared his location.

Right. Well, then. I should go eat something, then get some rest, since I'll be up all night with Bann
.

Dragging herself down the stairs and into the kitchen, she poured the potion down the drain, grateful to be done carrying the nasty thing around. She wandered over the refrigerator and opened it, staring inside without a trace of an appetite, vaguely wondering where the others were. She eyed a beer.
Better not
. Instead, she closed the door, grabbed the teakettle off the stove, and headed for the sink. While it filled with water, she peered out the window.
They're leaving
. He's
leaving
. She dug her fingers into the lip of the sink.

“Um, Shay?”

She turned at Cor's voice. “Hey, kiddo.”

“I'm sorry about Max.”

“Oh, Cor.” She leaned against the counter, turning the water off with an elbow. “It wasn't your fault.
Not one bit
.” The look on the boy's face begged to differ with her. “Max was crazy about you the moment you two met, and he wanted to protect you. And your dad, too.” Inspiration popped into her head. “He was like a canine version of a Knight, you know?”

“I know.” Without another word, he left.

“Shay?” Ann appeared in the doorway, a tray in her hands. “I brought you supper.” The aroma of potato soup preceded the woman into the room. “I want you to eat something.”

Straightening from a slumped position in the upholstered chair she had dragged closer to Bann's bed, Shay took the tray with a feeble smile of thanks and placed it on her lap. Not sure she could eat but knowing her aunt would hand-feed her if she didn't, she picked up the spoon and dipped it into the bowl. A glass of iced tea accompanied the dish.

“How is he?” Ann moved to the bed and gazed down at Bann's still form. The light from the bedside lamp held the evening's shadows at bay.

“Still sleeping, which is good. He's lost a lot of blood, though. We may be here awhile until he's strong enough to…” She sipped a spoonful to keep from finishing the sentence.

“You know you're all welcome here for as long as you want. I'm enjoying the sounds of family in this house again.” She pulled up another chair and took a seat, studying Shay with the focus of a hunter. “You okay?”

“Sure.” She kept her eyes on the tray.

Ann snorted. “No wonder you never play poker with the boys. You're a lousy liar.”

“They're leaving,” Shay blurted out. “I heard them talking. Cor wants to go back to Pennsylvania.”

“Why?”

“Cor feels guilty about…about…Max.” She took a gulp of tea. “And, of course,
Bann
feels guilty about Max. Because, you know, if there's something else to feel guilty about, Bannerman Boru is going to leap at the chance to pick it up and beat himself stupid with it. Not that he's not already there.” Shay stabbed a chunk of spud, slopping soup on the tray, “I swear, Ann, sometimes I want to smack him across the back of the head with a…with a
tire iron
.”

“Ah, I see.”

“See what?”

“Why, you're in love with him.” She held up a hand, forestalling her protests. “It's the head-whacking thing. A sure sign.”

“Well, you're wrong. I'm not in love with Bann. We've only met three weeks ago.”
Why are you lying to her? And to yourself?

“So?”

“So, this isn't some romance book. People don't just meet, fall in love, and live happily ever, blah, blah, blah, gag me.”

“Why?”

“Because…because they
don't
. Not in real life. And anyway, there's Cor to consider.”

“I thought you liked Cor.”

“I do. I adore that kid.”

“But you've only known
him
for three weeks.”

Can you call your aunt a bitch and still remain in the family
? Shay wondered. “That's different.” As soon as she said the words, she cringed.

“I'll ignore that statement—too easy an opening. Now, do you think Bann has similar feelings for you?”

“I think we're friends.” Shay took another sip of tea.

“A good start. Really, the best start in my opinion. And certainly, you've slept together.”

Shay choked. Not sure what to say, she gulped more tea, face and ears flaming.

Ann grinned and patted her knee, then rose. “Cor ate a few bites, by the way. He's downstairs with the boys, pretending to watch TV. I'll get him to bed in a little while.” She left.

Appetite gone, Shay put the tray on the floor beside her. Slumping back, she sighed, studying Bann's rugged features, softened by the glow of the lamp. He wore a look of determination even in sleep.

Damn, how did I get in over my head so fast? One minute, I'm all Independent Professional Woman, and then almost overnight, I've got this guy, actually these two guys, who are making some serious footprints in my home
. A corner of her mouth twitched.
And in my heart
.

For a moment, she let her imagination have its time in the sandbox, fantasizing about spending her life with the Knight. Raising Cor together. Building a life and a home. Having children together. Working for their people.
We'd be good for each other
.

A faint line appeared between Bann's brows. It deepened when he stirred with a soft groan. Eyelids fluttered opened a moment later.

“Hey.” She scooted her chair closer. “Look who's alive.”

“Half.” Bann croaked. He swallowed with a grimace and licked his lips. “Cor?”