Celtic Moon (24 page)

“Okay,” she agreed. “Then I’ll go.”

“I want Joshua and your mother to join you,” he said, warming to the idea.

“That’s fine.”

“Will you promise to wear the Serpent?” He remained quiet until she nodded her consent. “Then tell your mother we leave in one hour, while I go find our son.”

 * * * 

T
HAT AFTERNOON
, S
OPHIE FOLLOWED
D
YLAN UP THE
front steps of a quaint covered porch, with Joshua, her mother and Tucker just a few paces behind. The safe house was an ordinary blue cottage located on the edge of town, blending amongst scattered homes of similar design. A woman swung on a porch swing, reading a book, her long jean-clad legs dangling over the side.

“Sarah,” Dylan greeted with a nod. “My family is going to stay with the children during the gathering.”

Her eyes briefly landed on Tucker with no outward reaction. “Understood,” she said with a tone of authority that proved her relaxed position was pretense. Sophie assumed this Sarah, with her cropped red hair, was yet another member of her husband’s guard.

Dylan opened the door, nodding toward Francine and Joshua to enter the cottage, holding Sophie behind with a gentle arm around her waist. He leaned down and dropped a kiss next to her temple. “If you see anything suspicious, send Sarah to get me.”

“I will,” she promised.

“I have to return to Rhuddin Hall.” Concern laced his voice.

“We’ll be fine,” she reassured him with a smile.

“Remember, our local cell towers have been disabled. Your phone is useless until the gathering is over.”

“Porter already told me.”

“Sarah will show you to the others.” He claimed her lips for one last gentle kiss. “This will be over soon.” And with a final nod in Sarah’s direction, he strode down the stairs toward his truck. On the drive over, he had given her and Joshua instructions on the safest route back to Rhuddin Hall from their current location, a secret passage she hadn’t been aware of.

His vigilance heightened her concern,
and
her annoyance upon discovering that he had only moved her to an even more protected location to wait out the gathering. But if staying confined with the children was what he needed from her, then so be it. While she had always loved Dylan, she hadn’t truly trusted him.

That needed to change. If he was willing to respect her decisions, then she needed to return the gesture. Furthermore, guarding the children was an important responsibility she didn’t accept lightly.

As soon as Dylan’s truck disappeared, Sarah sent a sidelong glare in Sophie’s direction, not hiding her displeasure. “Follow me.”

The occupants of the house, Sophie soon discovered, were stowed away in the basement. She paused at the bottom of the stairs as her eyesight adjusted to the dim lighting. Sarah silently resumed her post while Sophie’s family spilled around her.

“This room is depressing,” Francine muttered, and Joshua returned with a grunt of agreement.

“It’s safe,” Sophie reminded them. “That’s all that matters.”

There were metal doors on the far wall, locked from within in the event of a necessary escape. Overstuffed chairs and a padded carpet had been added for comfort, with a meager kitchen and a paneled single door she assumed was a bathroom. Still, it smelled stuffy, a combination of must and too many breathing bodies in a closed space. The adults in the room sat with subdued expressions.

Elen stood alone in the corner of the room while the others huddled in a group away from her. A genuine smile of gratitude brightened her face as she walked over to greet them. “I’m
really
glad you’ve decided to join us.”

Sophie gave her a hug, not sure why she extended such a personal greeting, only sensing that Elen needed it. “How long have you been here?”

Elen returned the hug with a grateful squeeze. “Since this morning.”

A
S
D
YLAN HAD INSTRUCTED, THE LEADERS’ ARRIVALS
began after sunset, their guards few but powerful. Some came from the woods, led by Luc and then released toward Rhuddin Hall under Porter’s guidance. Three of the leaders arrived in nondescript vehicles and were directed through the side entrance like villagers on a routine visit.

No disputes had yet to arise, Dylan mused with some suspicion. But the night was still young. For now, at least, all leaders and their companions appeared cooperative and prepared to listen, if not entirely thrilled.

Inwardly, he remained grateful his wife had agreed to go to the safe house. Her cooperation allowed him to focus his energy on the matter at hand as Porter escorted the visitors to their temporary quarters. For the most part, Luc kept to the forest with the other guards and watched for unwelcomed intruders, a monumental task considering the size of their territory.

All those he cared about were safe and accounted for, Dylan reminded himself. Nonetheless, he felt restless and ready to have this meeting concluded, relieved when the last leader finally arrived.

“Madoc,” Dylan greeted from the open door, biting back a smile as the massive man unfolded from a rented Prius, unaccompanied. “Don’t tell me you drove all the way from Montana in that thing?”

“Hell, no,”
Madoc called back. “Only since Portland.”

“Did you come alone?”

“I do better alone,” he said, with the assurance of a man who had survived much worse than a gathering of wolves. “As I’m sure you remember.”

“I remember our journey all too well.”

Madoc was
the
notorious black knight turned pirate, his brooding features and brutal acts recounted—and distorted—by many storytellers and enemies alike. He was also the man insane enough to embark on an unknown journey without the consent of kings. He had captained the ship that had brought Dylan, Luc, and Elen to this land. Thankfully, Elen had been long removed from Merin’s influence by that time and helped soothe Luc on the voyage; the wolf had not taken well to sea travel.

Madoc whacked his forehead on the doorframe in the process of squeezing out of the small vehicle. “Damn . . . I feel like a fat woman trying to get out of a well-tied corset.”

“You’ve helped with that a few times, have you?” Dylan goaded.

“Indeed,” he chuckled, stretching as he stood with a loud groan. “Goddess knows I’d take one now. If you ask me, all these modern women look like starved boys.”

Dylan walked down the front entry. The light rain felt soothing as he held out his hand. “Thank you for coming.”

“This assembly is long overdue, old friend.” Madoc returned the greeting with a firm shake as his dark gaze spanned the forest and moved on to Katahdin. “Your territory is”—his nostrils flared as he inhaled the powerful scent of untamed nature—“abundant.”

“So is yours,” Dylan pointed out.

“I know.” Not a threat, or a boast, just a simple acknowledgment that they shared the same concern.

 * * * 

S
OPHIE CHECKED HER WATCH.
A
LMOST MIDNIGHT
. A
ND
the children had yet to settle down. Eighteen hours confined in a basement had confused their routines and tried the patience of every adult in the room, except for Francine. Her mother snored softly in one of the overstuffed chairs, blissfully unaware, whereas the children were ready to climb the walls. For kicks and giggles, Sophie inwardly decided she might join them.

A squeal of delight came from Ella, a young girl with long golden braids, as Joshua agreed to give her yet another piggyback ride.

“One last time, Pixie Girl,” Joshua teased. “But only if you promise to take a nap afterward.”

Ella rocked forward, kicking her pudgy legs into his sides. “Promise.”

Ella’s mother sent Sophie an apologetic shrug. It was the first unguarded gesture of the evening, and Sophie smiled in return. The villagers had graciously welcomed Joshua around their children, but they had kept a guarded distance from Sophie and Elen. At first, she’d assumed Tucker made them nervous, but more often than not, their worried gazes turned to Elen.

As if sensing her restlessness, a petite woman with a mass of tangled brown hair approached, holding out her hand in greeting. “My name is Gwenfair.” She went on to explain, “Dylan told me you might be interested in teaching at our school. If that is indeed the case, I would appreciate your help.”

Grateful for the distraction, Sophie shook the woman’s hand. “I would like that.”

“Wonderful.” She smiled to show crooked teeth that added to the natural warmth of her features. “I fully intend to continue their education, even if we have to do it behind guarded walls. We can meet in a few days to discuss our curriculum.”

“How many children do you normally teach?”

“Eight. But don’t let that small number fool you. They’re all highly inquisitive and bore easily,” she warned with good humor. “The oldest is twelve years, and the youngest is four.”

Scanning the room, Sophie recounted the heads of all the children. “Why are there only seven here now?”

After a slight hesitation, Gwenfair supplied, “Taran chose not to bring her daughter.”

Sophie blinked in surprise. “I hadn’t realized Taran had a child.” She made a mental note to have a conversation with Dylan when all this was over, and learn the names and family history of every person who lived in Rhuddin Village. Hopefully he had begun to trust her enough to release that information. “How old is her daughter?”

“Melissa is the youngest,” Gwenfair said with obvious concern. “She’s four years old.”

A warning chill crawled down Sophie’s spine; her inner voice of reason was stronger than her distrust of Siân’s family. Regardless of their unpleasant history, or whatever demotion Luc had enforced on Taran, not choosing the safest place for her daughter didn’t make sense, not for any parent.

A twinge of pain lanced through her head, a warning sign she’d learned to recognize, just before an unwelcome voice not her own flooded her thoughts.

Your instincts are correct, Sophie Marie Thibodeau.
The serpentine cadence weaved through her mind, an unnatural resonance that made her skin crawl with dread.
The mother and daughter are in danger.

“Do you smell that?” Gwenfair darted glances around the room as if looking for an unknown visitor. “It smells like—”

“Apple blossoms,” Elen interrupted, placing a tentative hand on Sophie’s shoulder, only to pull back with a hiss. “It smells like apple blossoms and power—
old
power.”

With flared nostrils, Gwenfair’s chest rose and fell with several slow breaths. “Yes,” she hummed with pleasure.

“I’ve smelled that scent once before,” Elen whispered breathlessly, “when I was much younger.” Her eyes fell to Sophie’s waist, covered by her sweater. “Are you wearing the Serpent?”

“I promised Dylan I would.” Sophie stood, and immediately wavered as blood rushed to her head. Her vision blurred. “I think I need some fresh air. I’m going to go check on Sarah.”

The mother and daughter are in danger,
the Serpent repeated.

Leave me alone,
Sophie answered back with silent force, making a conscious effort to close her mind, pushing against the unseen tormentor. It had worked once before, so why not again?

A serpentine laugh whispered back, not entirely displeased with her effort to expel it.
You are strong, Sophie Marie Thibodeau, but I am stronger . . .

 * * * 

D
YLAN OPTED TO MEET IN THE SHELTERED GARDENS OF
Rhuddin Hall. A place without walls was a more practical location if a quarrel were to ensue, a likely possibility with eight dominant shifters within striking distance of one another. As the leaders arrived, each in their human form, a heavy fog settled around their unruly circle, blessing their dangerous union with a mantle of obscurity.

“Madoc, Ryder, Drystan, Daron, Isabeau.” He addressed them each with a nod, followed by the two representatives sent by Nia and Kalem. “As you know, I’ve asked you here to unite with me against a shared enemy.” He tossed the banner in the center of their circle, bright blue and gold, colors that heralded the most vile cruelties of their past. “Our time of peace has ended.”

Voices rose in unison, each one adamant to be heard above the others. Arguments filled with uncertainty. In response, elements churned, pulled forth by eight powerful beings in one location. A gust of wind brushed through the forest. The fog lifted briefly to form a dense cloud mere yards above their heads. Snow began to fall, then turned to sleet, like a lover’s bite, teasing and wanting. Their combined power was pure, potent and addictive. And Dylan’s wolf wanted to play.

Holding her hand up for silence, Isabeau stepped forward, wearing jeans and sneakers, her hair tucked underneath the hood of a sweatshirt labeled Gap across her chest. Earlier that day, upon her arrival, Dylan had noticed her hair had been dyed kohl black, probably the only color that concealed a red so pure it attracted unnecessary attention. He saw no evidence of the broken girl who had stumbled upon his camp all those years ago.

Currently, she stood with her arms crossed and her lips pursed in feigned boredom, and looked no older than eighteen, a guise that suited her well. She had killed men thrice her size before they knew to be frightened.

“You speak as if we’re already at war with the Guardians,” Isabeau said. “I will fight, with pleasure, if they come, but I have not seen evidence of them in my territory.”

“Has all that hair dye made you daft, woman?” Madoc blurted with his usual candor. “’Tis their bloody banner lying at your feet.”

“It may be a warning,” she returned through clenched teeth, her voice too sweet, “but I don’t believe it was a Guardian who placed it. It’s not their way.” And she would know, having lost her entire family to the Guardian Rhun. “It’s not in their best interest to give warnings.”

“I share Isabeau’s view on this matter,” Drystan argued. “I have not seen evidence of the Guardians, and neither have the others. I don’t know who’s playing with you, Dylan . . . but I don’t believe the Guardians have any intentions of leaving Europe. So why should we chance their interest if it is not yet here?”

Daran grunted with agreement. “Having Math among us is enough. I, for one, don’t want to entice any others.”

“None of us do,” Drystan added, urged by the support. “Math has lived among us for almost three centuries now and has left us alone.”

“Math likes his privacy,” Madoc muttered with a sneer. “And we all know why. He doesn’t want the Council close any more than we do. They’d put a halt to his little . . . dalliances.”

“Please,”
Isabeau scoffed. “As if the Council cares.”

“Regardless of who placed the banner in my territory, or for what purpose,” Dylan interrupted, displeased with their trepidation, “I believe it’s only a matter of time before more Guardians arrive.” He inhaled the scent of his forest, letting his wolf rise to the surface, a tenuous challenge necessary for his next disclosure. “I have a son.” That earned a murmur of surprise and a generous slap on the back from Madoc. “He was born fifteen years ago. My mate is human. Our son can run as both a man and wolf.”

Agitated by this new information, Isabeau began to pace. “If the Guardians learn you’ve fathered a shifter with a human mate—”

Dylan interrupted, “I’m fully aware of the danger that threatens my family, Isabeau. When the Guardians come, and they will eventually come . . . Do you truly think they’ll remain satisfied not to claim it all? Do you truly think they’ll not move on to your lands? Have you lived so long in peace that you’ve forgotten their ways?”

Isabeau winced as if slapped. “Now you insult me.” She turned and glared at Dylan, her hands fisted against her sides in outrage. “I will
never
forget!”

“Then join me,” Dylan challenged. “I will not welcome war, but if it comes to my home, I will fight, just as I will fight for anyone who stands with me.”