Darkness Bound (13 page)

And he felt danger, heard Leigh thinking his name.

He put the fire tongs down quietly and strode to the kitchen on soft feet. As he entered, the breeze became a blast of wind through the open door. It carried the odor of decay, the stench of death. Outside there was a death slave; zombie, werewolf, fae, even werehound, the dead creature’s animated carcass had been kept to do dirty work for some malevolent force.

Fighting his own instinct to change and take advantage of the anonymous cover of his hound form, Niles flipped off the light. Darkness was his friend. He saw better in the dark than most people did in daylight.

Slipping rapidly outside, he stared out among the trees. To call for Leigh could work against them. And if she discovered he could talk into her mind, the shock might kill her.

Summoning the skill he rarely used, he flew straight up without the aid of trees to boost him. To fly unaided in the open made him too likely to be seen, but all he cared about now was getting to Leigh. From high above the ground where he could have a wider view of the area, he scanned carefully, tree to tree, space to space. He picked out wild animals, small and large, scurrying or slinking on their way, and he looked into the eyes of an owl wise enough to remain silent.

There it was
. Fading into the trunk of a tree, the ghostly form of a decaying woodsman fae.

There was no time to puzzle out the first appearance of such a thing on this island—as far as he knew. But Sally must be questioned without angering her.

He hovered, made a half turn, and saw Leigh—in a huddled heap on the ground.

Niles tried but failed to stifle his fear, his anger, and landed a few feet from her. “Leigh?” he said, running to kneel beside her. He felt her shiver and relief fueled fresh rage. “Leigh. What happened?”

He started to turn her over but she resisted, whimpering and struggling against him.

“It’s Niles,” he said. “You’re okay. Hey, you’re with me and you’re okay.”

She remained bent over, her face buried in her hands.

Gently, holding back the inhuman potential of his strength, he scooped her into his arms, turning her as he did so. And she rolled to press herself against him, still covering her face.

A wide mark circled her neck. Wide and red with darker specks of blood just beneath the skin.

And her hair was damp.

The woodsman had put his mark on her—to please his master no doubt. And to warn Niles not to get in the way of the fae. By nature the woodsmen were not violent, but death could change everything and here it had.

Niles carried Leigh to the cottage, into the living room, and started to set her down in an armchair. She threw an arm around his neck and hung on.

“Tell me about it, Leigh.” Brushing back her hair, stroking the side of her face, he willed her to be calm.

She held him tighter, buried her face in his chest. Niles’s heart slammed. His arousal was instant and insistent. He spread his hands on her back and rubbed softly back and forth.

“It was huge, tall, with a knife in its hands. When I turned around it was milky, misty—formless. Then it shrank until it was no bigger than me—”

The words tumbled out and Niles’s fury grew. Was the zombie woodsman Brande’s? Did he and his wolves want to plant more seeds of trouble in the community and cause people to panic, in addition to getting rid of Leigh and the nuisance she could be to the wolves if she mated with Niles?

Why try to force confrontation?

He hushed Leigh and kept on holding her firmly. She weighed very little. These humans were fragile creatures. He wanted to make her his, to keep her with him forever.

This fierce protective urge, this possessiveness… was this how love began? He thought back to his days in Wyoming, to the woman he had known there, his fiancée.

No, this wasn’t exactly like that, but then his life had been predictable, the future warm, filled with the promise of home, a loving wife, and children. That had been
before the winter of destruction, before the mad hound had come.

“I didn’t imagine it,” Leigh said in a small voice.

Of course she would not expect to be believed. “Of course you didn’t.” He took her to the bathroom and set her feet on the floor, turned her to face the mirror, but kept an arm around her waist.

“Look at your neck,” he told her, holding back her hair.

Leigh looked and horror darkened her eyes. “What was that thing? Niles, I don’t want to leave this place, but when my sister and her husband see this, they will pry and insist I go with them.”

He could not let that happen, but…

With one finger, he subtly traced the line on her neck, at the back, beneath her hair. “Perhaps you should leave,” he said, frowning at her in the mirror.

She met his eyes. “I’m afraid to stay, but I don’t want to go,” she said. “In Seattle I felt as if I was slowly fading. I didn’t care about anything anymore. I’ve started to live again here. Chris would have wanted that and he always wanted me to be strong.”

Her expression was stricken and he wondered how often she had spoken aloud about her husband. He also wondered when she would realize how quickly she was bonding with him. She must be responding to the chemistry they shared. Niles had barely dared to hope this would happen.

The red slash was gradually healing and disappearing. Niles touched it again and the repair worked even faster. Leigh had not noticed.

With absolute certainty that he was right, Niles held her shoulders and told her, “This happened to drive you
away.” Away from him, away from the hope she brought to his kind. He continued, bending the truth this time, “There are some who love to play tricks on those they think are weak. We’ve had trouble with some serious pranks and it’s causing argument among those who know about it.” She was not ready to learn the depths of depravity already at work.

Color slowly seeped back into her cheeks. She never took her gaze from his. “Could rubber do this?” She reached her fingertips to her neck. “Thrown quickly around, then pulled away again? It would break the capillaries and scrape the skin.”

He smiled, attempting to lighten the tension. “I shall have to watch out for you, ma’am. I believe you would make quite the practical joker.”

Her smile was a poor effort but it was a start. “Should I try to reach my sister and ask her to come tomorrow instead of tonight?”

That was an idea with possibilities. They would undoubtedly stay together, alone, and that could only hasten whatever was to happen between them. “It’s too late,” he said regretfully. “They’ll be here in half an hour or less. Can you handle it?”

She twisted in his arms and surprised him with a quick but convulsive hug. “Thank you. With you here I can do it. But I warn you—they can be, well, difficult. Gib is overbearing sometimes.”

“Sounds entertaining.” He inclined his head to look down at her. “You think I’d miss a chance to watch your family dynamics?”

“Niles!” She pretended disgust.

“What can I tell you? I’m a voyeur. Probably repressed.”

She kissed him quickly on the cheek.

And he had a tough time not kissing her back—on the mouth and elsewhere. Instead he ducked as if he were peering at her neck. “Will you look at that, it’s just about gone.”

Leigh took another look in the mirror. “How can it be? It is. If I put on a scarf they won’t see.”

They won’t see if you don’t put a scarf on.
But it was better not to make her think too deeply. “It must have been more a rub than anything else and it’s fading fast. Go get a scarf. I’ll check the food to make sure it’s not burning.” Like he knew anything about cooking! “And I’ll throw more wood on the fires. It looks great in here.”

Her smile was genuine this time, warm and almost happy, although she glanced anxiously at the window. “Thank you. You’re… you’re something.”

She sped up to the loft, and he went into the kitchen. There were no evident burned parts on the lasagna so he assumed it was okay. Then he remembered something he’d heard Sean mention and turned the dial down to lower the heat. Cooking had become Sean’s unlikely hobby and he considered himself a budding gourmet chef.

A log on each fire and they were as ready as they would be. For what, Niles wondered. Why would a woman like Leigh care so much about these other people?

She ran back down the stairs. As usual she wore black, plain, slim pants, a round-necked top with long sleeves, and flat shoes. But she had added a chartreuse scarf.

“You look great,” he told her. She looked better than great. Soft, sexy, a coat of gloss on her full lips catching the light and making him swallow hard. “How long will they stay?”

Leigh skidded to a halt and laughed aloud. “You are so funny. Whatever is on your mind, you say—no pretense. I like that. You don’t hide anything.”

His own face felt like stone. If only she knew how much he hid. At the same time as he imagined feeling her naked in his arms, he had a gut-punching image of her looking at him with revulsion and he swallowed. She must learn to love him before she found out the rest.

That was another new realization. “I’m a mystery really,” he said, raising one brow. “You just haven’t figured that out.” If it was going to happen at all, the sooner they became sealed together, the better.

Not that he had any certainty she would want to accept him once he let her see his hound.

Leigh looked at the floor and put a hand on his chest.

“What?” He was determined not to invade her mind.

“I think you and I are going to make a good team—at least tonight,” she said.

N
ILES HAD NOT CONSIDERED
what Gib and Jan Hill would be like but if he had, he would have been wrong.

There was a lot of silence around the table in Leigh’s warm little kitchen. “More salad?” she asked Jan, who smiled but shook her head, no. “How about you, Gib, you were always a salad man?” Leigh talked enough for all of them, trying to fill in the silence. Niles figured the shock she had been through made her chatter.

“Not for me,” Gib said.

Gib had a narrow but good-looking face with guileless brown eyes. Niles didn’t think the eyes mirrored the man’s nature. Despite a crew cut, his black hair showed a lot of gray. His wife didn’t look like her sister but she was appealing in a different way. Small but not as thin, Jan’s expression gave a lot away, or it did to Niles. This was not a happy or relaxed woman. Dark shiny hair and green eyes should have been arresting but anxiety dulled her.

“How about lasagna, then?” Leigh suggested.

Both of the Hills shook their heads.

“Well, more for me, please,” Niles said, smiling all around. He served himself and continued to eat, although it took determination.

Leigh popped up from the table and cleared empty plates. When she caught Niles’s eye, she smiled and he hoped it wasn’t only because she was grateful to him.

Coffee had finished brewing and she put a plate of pastries in the middle of the table before bringing mugs and clean plates. “Sorry the dessert isn’t homemade—or at least not by me—but I didn’t have much time after I left work.”

The Hills’ silence grated on Niles. “Are these some of Cliff’s?” he asked about the pastries. “He makes the best.” He tried a smile on Gib. “Cliff’s the chef at Gabriel’s, where Leigh works.”

Gib shrugged.

Niles disliked sweet foods but he would eat the entire plateful if necessary.

“Don’t you worry about any of that,” Jan said to Leigh. She sighed and the breath she let out came in little spurts. What was making her so uptight?

“You look tired, Leigh,” Gib said. He pushed his chair back, tucked the ends of his fingers into his pants pockets, and glanced at Niles.

That was a
you’re in the way here
look if Niles had ever seen one.

“I never felt better,” Leigh said. “I’ve always loved Whidbey.”

Niles read exactly what was happening between him and this man who was accustomed to being in charge. Gib felt threatened. At some unreachable level he sensed he
was not the alpha male around here and he chafed against that.

“Of course you love Whidbey. You met Chris here,” Gib said to Leigh. “The two of you were crazy about each other and about being here.”

“That’s true,” Leigh said tonelessly.

“You don’t get over that kind of attachment easily. Takes years.”

Gib gave Niles another of those looks. The guy wanted him to leave.

“I’m glad you can feel good coming back here,” Jan said abruptly, her voice breaking. She patted her sister’s hand on the table. “It shows you’re healing.”

Gib gave a harsh laugh.

“Well, doesn’t it?” Jan asked. Tears shone in her eyes and Niles had an urge to plant a fist in the middle of Gib’s sneering face. “When you can go back to a place you thought you’d have to stay away from—and enjoy it—it’s healthy.”

“If you say so, Dr. Hill. I guess there are two of us in the family, now.” Gib said.

“My husband’s a psychologist,” Jan said to Niles. “I must have gotten into the habit of analyzing why people do things, I guess. But Leigh and I—”