Eternity's Mark (19 page)

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Authors: Maeve Greyson

BOOK: Eternity's Mark
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“Last night,” Taggart began and then he stopped. Turning away, he sucked in a deep breath and paced around the stifling room. By the fires of Eras, the nursery seemed smaller than ever before. The scented air blew hot against his skin, stirred by the gently undulating branches of Rowanian saplings fanning over the eggs. His heart wrenched with the pain of the words he was about to say, but he had no choice. Hannah's safety was all that mattered. “Last night should've never happened, Hannah. I broke a sacred vow.”
Her eyes glittered cold as the color left her face. She'd shut down on him; he sensed it. She didn't understand it was for her own good, her own safety, but he didn't know how to explain it.
Dammit to hell
. Why didn't she say something? “I have to keep ye safe, Hannah. Above all else, your safety is more important than anything. Worlds depend on it, Hannah. Please tell me ye understand.”
Hannah's eyes narrowed as her mouth hardened into a cold, flat line. “Fine,” she retorted, then turned on her heel, scooped up William, and headed toward the door.
“Fine?” Taggart scrubbed his face with a defeated groan. God's beard, he knew that dreaded word. When a woman said
fine
in that tone of voice, it surely doomed a man straight to hell. He hadn't lived over seven hundred years without hearing horror stories about men's wives using the word
fine.
Standing in front of the door, tapping one foot, Hannah shrugged and repeated, “Fine.”
Taggart reached for her, then let his hand drop. The look on her face said it all. “Holy blazes, Hannah, please. Ye have to try to understand. I have to keep ye safe. As I said, worlds depend upon it; countless races depend upon it. Can ye no' see what I'm trying to tell ye, woman?”
“I understand perfectly,” Hannah snapped in a voice that said a great deal more than her words.
William propped his scaly chin on Hannah's shoulder and licked his forked tongue out at Taggart with another threatening hiss.
“Don't sass me, boy!” Taggart warned and shook his finger at the young Draecna's nose. That's all he needed, a smart-ass Draecna hatchling to deal with while he tried to protect Hannah.
“Just open the door, and William and I will go up to the gardens where Septamus and Gearlach can babysit us until it's time for the next shift to tag-team out and watch over every move I make.”
“Gavrana,”
Taggart sighed, with an exhausted wave of his hand. So it was to be like that. All their carefully built closeness shattered. “There, Hannah. But how did ye get in here to begin with?”
Pausing just after she'd entered the tunnel, Hannah shot Taggart a warning glare. “Apparently, when I'm not so pissed off I can't see straight, the door will open up if I just stand in front of it.”
“I see,” Taggart replied.
C
HAPTER
S
EVEN
U
nbelievable. Taggart clenched his teeth until his jaws ached as William fidgeted before him. Three months and still no improvement. Why was training William proving to be so much more difficult than guiding Gearlach through his formative years? For the life of him, Taggart never remembered Gearlach being this much trouble.
Scrubbing his jaw with a tensed fist, he studied the downcast youth. The willful hatchling should know better by now. How many times had they told the boy to keep the wind at his back to avoid pissing on his oversized feet?
From the corner of Taggart's eye, Gearlach's sheepish expression haunted him. And then there was the
other
matter. Where in the hell had Gearlach come up with the idea to ignite William's farts into exploding fireballs?
Returning his attention to his squirming charge, Taggart heaved an aggravated sigh, “Aye, William. Gearlach told ye the truth. None of the other Draecna have ever accomplished your trick.” Taggart folded his arms and sidled his unblinking stare back to Gearlach. He couldn't imagine why the fool had taught the young one that idiotic stunt. Of course, Gearlach had always held an obsessed fascination with flame and any type of explosion.
Turning back to William, Taggart blew out another irritated breath. “I hold Gearlach responsible, William. But ye're getting old enough now to realize what ye should and shouldna do. Show some sense, boy. Use yer damned head for something other than a place for the midges to land.” With a nod toward the castle, Taggart raised his voice. “And I want ye to start spending a great deal more time with Septamus rather than Gearlach. He's a
much
better influence upon ye. Do ye understand me?”
“Aye.” William nodded and cut his flickering golden gaze over at Gearlach as if silently accusing him of sending him straight to the gallows.
Kicking his toe in the soft dirt of the clearing, William's face suddenly brightened. “Mother wants to know if we can keep the kitty inside the keep when the dead of winter comes.”
Kitty? What the hell was the boy talking about? Drawing closer to William, Taggart swallowed hard and barely choked out the words. “There are
no
cats allowed at Taroc Na Mor, William. Ever. The beasts are considered ill-omened.”
Gearlach scowled at the young Draecna standing by his side. “What filthy cat are ye talking about, William? Ye never told me there was a feline slinking about the keep.”
Shrugging his wings, William backed away from Gearlach and Taggart, his nervous gaze shifting back and forth between their faces. “It's Mother's cat. It comes to her private courtyard beneath her window. 'Specially in the evenings. She feeds it all the time. It's soft and grey and when I'm verra still, Mother helps me hold it.”
Taggart's gut wrenched as his gaze locked with Gearlach's knowing look. There wasn't a cat on this side of the portal that would get anywhere near a Draecna. Natural enemies since the beginning of time, the two species detested one another. Something wasn't right. “Is your mother with Septamus now?”
William shook his head. “No, I left her in the garden with Thaetus and the kitty.”
“With the kitty? Thaetus wouldna be caught dead near a stinkin' cat. He detests them as much as we do.” Gearlach worried a claw around one of his horns as he ambled closer to William.
“Oh, Thaetus didna know the cat was about,” William volunteered. “She was sneaking up on him from behind. Kitty likes to hide in the bushes until no one but Mother or me is about.”
 
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. She couldn't believe she'd been so stupid. Holding her cup clenched between her hands, Hannah envisioned snapping Taggart's wondrous neck. She couldn't believe he'd actually said it. A mistake. He'd said their fantastic sexual marathon had been a terrible mistake. Was he saying he hadn't enjoyed it? Like hell, he hadn't enjoyed it. He was the one who hadn't even woken up the next morning when William couldn't break through his shell.
She couldn't believe she'd finally relented, finally caved and opened to another man, and then he'd said it'd been a mistake. She'd even admitted to herself that she might care for him just a bit. And where had it gotten her? Sitting alone on a cold concrete bench. In her garden. Fuming over her coffee.
She took another sip of the delectable brew Thaetus brought her every morning. It had been three months now since their
mistake
and Taggart treated her like a delicate porcelain doll. He'd practically placed her on a shelf under a crystal dome to ensure not even a speck of dust settled anywhere on her body. Explosive sex after such a long dry spell was worse than no sex at all. Now she ached for him every night. He'd reawakened every nerve ending in her body and she craved a repeat performance. She clutched her coffee in a stranglehold.
Damn you, Taggart.
“Thaetus, why don't you go do whatever it is you need to do and stop hovering around like a buzzard waiting for something to die? I'm just sitting here in the garden enjoying my morning coffee. I promise. I'll stay right here. What could happen here in the middle of the garden?” Swiveling on the bench, Hannah glared at the man fidgeting close to the outer door of the keep.
“Ye're not to be left unguarded under any circumstances. Ye know that. 'Tis been discussed with ye many times before.” Thaetus made a show of plucking withered leaves off a nearby bush and tossing them over onto the lawn.
“Then why don't you get yourself a cup of coffee and join me?” Hannah nodded toward the bench on the other side of the glass-topped iron table and smiled.
“Join you?” Thaetus looked horrified at the thought of following Hannah's suggestion.
“Okay. I see by the look on your face that you've got a big problem either with coffee or with my company. Which is it?” Hannah asked.
Thaetus didn't reply. His knees buckled, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed and rolled to the ground.
“Thaetus!” Rushing to his side, Hannah crouched beside him, checking his condition by pressing her hand to his throat. A faint pulse feathered an erratic beat beneath her fingertips while the muscles of his neck clenched and twitched as if his body tightened down.
A sultry voice rose up behind her. “He is not dead. I've merely paralyzed him. But it would be best for him if ye moved away from his body.” Still squatting beside Thaetus, Hannah whirled and stared into the linen folds of a young woman's threadbare robes. As her heart pounded into her throat, Hannah's eyes traveled up the length of the rough weave to meet the amber-eyed gaze of a hooded girl. “Who are you? What have you done to Thaetus?”
With a lazy dip of her blond lashes, the girl shoved her tattered hood to her shoulders. “I am Mia and as I told ye, I have only paralyzed him. Ye should be thanking me. I should have destroyed the insolent servant.” Pressing her lips together into a tight-lipped frown, she darted a glance over Thaetus's convulsing body, then returned her bored gaze to Hannah. “He will recover in time.” She motioned for Hannah to rise. “Come now. We have little time. My master grows quite impatient and waits to meet ye.”
Mia's detached, pale-eyed gaze stole Hannah's breath from her lungs. Her heart hammered so loudly in her head it drowned out any other sound. As much as she hated to admit it, Taggart had been right. She wasn't even safe in Taroc Na Mor. But she'd be damned if she'd go without a fight. While she stared at Mia's outstretched hand, a plan crystallized when her gaze shifted to Mia's right. A gaping hole in the leafy shrubbery jumped into her line of vision.
Hannah leaned forward and slid her hands deep into the loose dirt as though steadying herself in the soft earth close to Thaetus's body. She pressed her mouth close to the twitching man's head and whispered, “Tell him I didn't go without a fight.”
Mia shifted to the side and nudged Hannah's leg with her toe. “What do you say to him? Ye must come now. I told ye I have chosen not to kill him, but if ye tarry any longer I will change my mind. We must leave now. My master grows impatient.”
“I'm coming,” Hannah said. Taking a deep breath, she curled her hands shut.
Now or never.
With one smooth motion, she slung two handfuls of the sandy topsoil into Mia's pale, amber eyes. Then she vaulted through the thinned out bushes beside the retaining wall and rolled down William's favorite mudslide to the creek. Thank goodness the little Draecna had shown her his latest invention. Just yesterday, he'd shared how he'd perfected sliding to the waterway using the back of his tail.
Landing in the rocky creek bed with a splash, Hannah flailed across the shallow stream. The icy water numbed her flesh, only adding to the panic pounding through her body. Her teeth chattered until her jaws ached. Her body trembled more from spiked adrenaline than from the frigid water. Hannah clawed her way up the muddy embankment of the other side and collapsed as she pulled herself up into a moss-covered ledge. Her stomach churned as she risked a look back; terror threatened to close off her throat. She hadn't heard a sound of Mia giving chase, not a single snap of a branch. Had she given up so easily?
Hannah gave up looking for Mia and reached for the root system of a washed-out tree. She pulled herself behind the blackened mass of roots and into a hollowed-out cave deep within the embankment. Curling her body as far back against the soft earth as she could, she decided she'd hide here until Taggart found her. He'd use his senses to locate her. Pressing her back against the cool, damp earth, she closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing. It was going to be all right. She was safe. She just had to wait for Taggart.
“He will not find ye because ye will not be here.” Mia's bony white hand snaked through the protection of the tangled roots and lightly tapped Hannah in the center of her forehead.
 
“Thaetus, ye must tell me. What do ye remember?” Taggart strode in tight circles beside the four-poster bed. The miasma of emotions pounding through his body prevented him from remaining in one spot for very long. His Hannah, spirited away, perhaps already dead. God's beard, how had he allowed this to happen? Once again, the Guild and the protector had failed the sacred Sullivan bloodline. But far worse than any ancient trust, he had failed Hannah, his beloved Hannah.
His lips gray, his red-rimmed eyes receding deep in their darkened sockets, Thaetus appeared ready for the grave. Mia's vicious poison still raged within his body; his limbs twisted and twitched uncontrollably beneath the sheets. “I never saw her,” Thaetus rasped. His voice was so weak Taggart ceased his pacing and leaned forward to hear him better.
Cold hatred clenched tighter in his chest as Taggart looked down at his beloved friend. How could he have ever considered such a woman as a mate?
If she hurt Hannah. . .
His hands fisted as he envisioned Mia's neck between his fingers.
“She posed as a wicked cat!” Gearlach hissed. “It was the prophecy! We shouldha warned the boy against trusting any type of feline. How could we have been so lax?”
Holding up his hand to silence Gearlach, Taggart shook his head. “Even if we had warned the boy, he still would've been no match for Mia. William is an innocent, still young and untrained. Mia can be verra convincing when she wants to be. God's beard, I should know.” Mia had once been such a wondrous creature of light, filled with hope and promise. Then she'd turned, become poisoned and unforgiving. She'd become as maniacal as Sloan.
Returning to the side of the bed, Taggart repeated his question. “What do ye remember, old friend?”
Running his blackened tongue over his cracked lips, Thaetus drew a shaking breath before he replied, “She told Hannah she could've killed me but she had chosen not to. Then she told her she had to come with her because her master grew verra impatient.”
“She showed you mercy?” Taggart stroked his chin as he turned and circled the dimly lit confines of the room. Mia could've easily killed Thaetus. In fact, Sloan had probably ordered her to do so. Ruthlessness and cruelty marked Sloan for the hated ruler of Erastaed; many died without reason by his hand every day. He had an edict against housing prisoners any length of time. Sloan's standard theory remained very simple: If you kept prisoners, they had to be fed.
“Why would they want Hannah alive? Why would she spare Thaetus?” Septamus entered the room with a tray of herbal medicines clinking in tightly stoppered bottles. “By the way, the young one wants to see Thaetus. He is greatly troubled that he left Thaetus and his mother unguarded with the cat. He blames himself for leaving them unprotected and not seeing through Mia's evil glamour.”
“It is not his fault,” Taggart retorted with an irritated snap. If anyone was at fault, it was he. He was the one who had failed everyone concerned. After all, he was the supposed protector.
Septamus paused in his grinding of the pungent herbs and arched an accusing brow. “I will leave that for you to explain. Now as to my other question, why would they suffer Hannah and Thaetus to live?”

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