Forever (Book #3 in the Fateful Series) (4 page)

“I guess.” Danielle slanted a curious look toward the door. “Are we alone, do you think?”

“That’s extremely unlikely.”

Her shoulders slumped at that and she released a disappointed little sigh.

Ethan helped her down and gathered her under his arm. He opened the door and they entered their bedroom. Passing his gaze over the room he took in the changes. Apparently, there was nothing to be done at this late hour about the broken window. But the drapes, which had been open earlier, were drawn closed. A cool breeze made it billow forward so that it brushed against the legs of the two guards stationed there for the night. Lovely, Ethan thought with thick sarcasm, they get to spend the night with Lewis and Casanova watching over them. And he knew Danielle wouldn’t sleep much, worrying she might snore or something in front of strangers.

A bright, almost blinding glow filtered in through his closed eyelids, drawing Ethan from sleep. It was a sudden change, as though someone had flipped on a light or swung a flashlight at his face. The click of a door sounded next and he forced his eyes open, blinking. Ah, the sun was up and the guards had left their posts unblocking the early morning light as it melted through the sheer curtains covering their window. A breeze still danced against the material. The world seemed so quiet and peaceful now.

Stretching, he rolled and looked at Danielle. She was sound asleep, her chest rising and falling with each deep breath. She had one hand tucked beneath her cheek and the other hidden somewhere under the blankets. Apparently exhaustion had snatched her into slumber even though he knew she’d remained awake for quite some time after they’d tucked in last night. It had been obvious that she didn’t like the idea of sleeping with two men she didn’t know very well as an audience, because she’d tossed and turned and kept tucking the blankets up under her chin before she’d shift again. She looked a great deal more tired than she usually did after a full moon. Her lashes rested against purple shadows under each eye. She’d swept most of her hair off her face except for one curling lock of brown that shimmered in the dim light across her neck and collar bone. He reached for it and watched as it curved around his finger before he tossed it over her shoulder.

Her hand came up from under the blankets and she rubbed at her nose like it tickled. Danielle’s eyes blinked open after that. Ethan watched as it took a moment for her to focus and for her to recognize him. She smiled a sleepy smile at him.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked in a gravelly voice, noting the fact that he sounded about as tired as she looked.

“All right.” She rolled to her back, casting a look past his shoulder, probably checking to see if they were alone or not. They were.

Just “all right” was better than he’d slept. His dreams had been plagued by the werewolf version of Lucas, along with fanged creatures trying to take her away from him. Danielle was screaming and kicking violently with precise skill that didn’t do her any good, and as a mortal man there’d been nothing he could do about it. His gut churned at the idea that he had to do something about this before the next full moon or he really could lose her to something he couldn’t control.

Realizing that what began as a nightmare could twist into a horrible reality, Ethan was moved into action. “Let’s get up and get dressed,” he said. “We’re going to see the fairies
today
.” If they didn’t do this now, then Beon might demand they turn back into vampires, and if his main goal was to keep her happy then he had to find a new resolution to their concerns.

Danielle didn’t need to be told twice when it came to seeing fairies, and he couldn’t stop the soft chuckle that left his throat as she sprang from the bed and ran to the bathroom.

They got dressed in hiking gear. He finished lacing up his boots before she’d zipped up her jeans. “I’ll go get our backpacks and make breakfast,” he said.

“All right,” she replied as she perched on the edge of their bed and began tugging on her socks.

Making his way to the basement where they kept the backpacks, he somehow managed to avoid any of the guards he suspected were still lingering about. His goal was to get ready and go before the men started asking questions or insisted they go see Beon after what happened last night. Ethan also knew there could be some resistance about them going into the woods because the pixies had also become more of a nuisance. The creepy little things were stalking Danielle almost as fiercely as the werewolves, but with the use of salt, they were easier to repel, so Ethan felt like they could deal with that problem on their own.

Snagging the backpacks off the hooks, he made his way back up the stairs and entered the kitchen to pack food for their hike and make a quick breakfast. Apparently it didn’t matter how quiet he’d been because as he dumped the packs on the marble countertop in the center of the kitchen, Merrick walked in.

Leaning against the counter opposite from the island, Merrick folded his arms over his chest and passed his gaze first over the backpacks and then over Ethan’s attire. “Going camping?”

“Just a hike,” Ethan said in a tight voice.

The lame response hung between them for a moment and Ethan wasn’t surprised when the vampire soon cleared his throat and announced like it was an invitation to some Victorian soiree, “Beon wishes to see you.”

Expelling a sigh that probably sounded more like a groan, he responded with, “I’m certain he does, but we’re going out first.”

Only pretending to be unaware of Merrick who shifted his position and tunneled one hand through his mop of brown hair, Ethan decided to make tea, even though he’d planned to skip it for stealth originally. When he opened the cupboard and reached for Danielle’s favorite cup, he came up short. It wasn’t there....

“The glass broke it when it flew into your bedchamber, I’m afraid,” murmured Merrick. “We didn’t have the heart to tell her ... just yet.”

Ethan reached for another pair of cups instead and set them on the countertop. “I’ll go onto eBay and see if I can find her another one.” It was an antique but it was made by a well-known company, so there was a good chance he could replace it for her.

Merrick made a grunting sound which Ethan figured was his way of approving the idea and then said nothing more.

Besides the soft sloshing noise of water pouring into the teapot before Ethan set it down on the heat, the room was quiet, but filled with a tension that gained weight until it became almost tangible. Of course, he knew he hadn’t properly explained his plans for the day and it was only a matter of time before the Highland knight began to question him more thoroughly. Ethan endeavored to busy himself with food preparation, hoping Merrick might let this one slide. Avoiding the gaze he could feel following him around the room, he began making sandwiches for the hike. He wrapped those in plastic and tucked two in each pack. Next he washed a couple of apples and gathered a bag of trail mix, but paused when Merrick finally asked, “Where?”

Mentally scrambling to find a suitable answer, Ethan moved to the next task. He removed two crumpets from the package and popped them into the toaster. As he pushed the lever down, Merrick repeated the query. “Where is this hike?”

Expelling a breath of resignation, Ethan decided to go with the truth. “The fairies. I have to take her to them so they can help us deal with this magic we’re now battling against.”

When no response to his confession came right away, his gaze swiveled to Merrick. He felt his eyes widen slightly at the light of intrigue dancing in Merrick’s green eyes. “You’ll need aid then. Do you have a plan?”

Slightly taken aback, Ethan stammered, “You’re not going to insist—?”

Merrick cut him off with a sharp shake of his head and pitched his voice to a low conspiratorial whisper. “I want her to be happy too. I know how much she likes being mortal.”

Relieved at Merrick’s cooperation, he said, “We need them, especially if we’re fighting against magic.”

“I agree.” Merrick rubbed at the whiskers shadowing his broad jawbone. “I hope it’s not witches helping the moon-beasts.”

The teakettle whistled. Ethan turned and took the handle. He set a teabag in one of the cups. While pouring hot water over the bag, he took in Merrick’s thoughtful expression. Ethan could easily picture Merrick as he once was centuries ago, as a Highland warrior. A kilt wouldn’t have looked feminine on the hulking man. In fact, he’d probably look more imposing with plaid material dancing from a brisk breeze over massive knees and muscular calves. Ethan could also imagine him slicing through his enemy with easy strokes of a claymore as an almost devilish smirk toyed with his grim mouth. As the aroma of spiced peaches rose to his nose, he asked, “You think it’s the witches?”

Merrick shrugged and picked up the empty teacup. The fragile porcelain vanished inside his huge hands. Thick fingers moved it in a circle as he absently examined the flowery design.

After gathering a bag of rooibos tea for himself and reaching for the cup, he asked, “Why witches?”

Merrick returned the teacup with a scowl. “Wicked lot of hags, they are. I doubt they’d have any qualms about offering aid to the wretched monsters.”

“They can’t all be bad, can they?”

With another shrug, the Highland knight said, “Perhaps not. I just haven’t liked any I’ve met thus far.”

In truth, while Ethan had met a couple of sorceresses, he hadn’t met any practicing witches yet. So he had no idea what to expect from them, except that they were known to favor the color black and used potions for most of their magic.

The crumpets popped up. He set them on plates and slathered the hot spongy bread with butter and strawberry preserves, wondering what was taking Danielle so long. As though just the thought of her was able to conjure up her image, she entered from the left doorway. Without saying anything, a cautious gaze flickered over the imposing man in the room.

Gathering in the look of worry in her expression, Merrick whispered with a wide toothy grin, “I offer my aid in seeking out the wee fairies.”

Her brown eyes rounded at that and it looked like she was about to say something when Cedric and Casanova entered from behind Merrick on the other side of the room. “Count me in too,” said Cedric.

“And me, ma chérie,” added Casanova. His thick French accent made him sound like some romance novel hero, and the sweeping bow he performed along with, “At your service,” made him look like one too.

Ethan choked down the objection he wanted to bellow, but based on the amused twist of Danielle’s mouth, she probably noticed the way his lip curled in irritation. Apparently forgetting his jealous distress, which he knew she was aware of, her eyes landed on the crumpets. Bending forward slightly, she drew in the delicious smell of the toasted bread, then lifted one of the plates. After biting into it, her tongue shot out to clean the preserves from her upper lip. Another surge of jealousy socked him in the stomach when he realized all of the men’s gazes were fixed on her full mouth.

“Thanks for breakfast,” she said, now pouring a generous measure of honey and cream into her tea before stirring it.

She wore a snug-fitting pair of jeans, paired with a white baby t-shirt that showed off her curves. After tightening the plaid shirt tied around her waist, she gathered her teacup for a sip now that she’d doctored it up in a way that many Brits would frown upon.

She’d French braided the front part of her hair into a long braid that ran along the side of her head and caught that up with the rest of her hair into a smooth ponytail that swung when she moved. That must have been what had taken her so long to come down. She’d stopped to do her hair and make-up. Ethan kept his amused chuckle inside as he bit into his own crumpet and washed it down with his unsweetened tea. Danielle was vain enough to worry about her appearance, but not so much so that she was a snob. He doubted she even knew that no matter what she wore she looked like some sort of 1940’s bombshell one might see painted on the side of a B-29 bomber.

It was more than clear that she was oblivious to the way the other men looked at her.
Does she know how gorgeous she is?
Ethan wondered.
No
, he decided after watching her eat. She was just savoring the simple breakfast in a way that was sexy to watch. She couldn’t possibly be aware of it or she wouldn’t eat like that in front of these men. When he again caught the men staring a little too closely, it awakened something primal within him. Something that tempted him to grunt out “mine!” toss her over his shoulder and stalk from the kitchen.... Or better yet, challenge them all to a duel. Of course, that wouldn’t fare well for him since he was mortal and they weren’t. With eyes trailing to the knife drawer, which was close at hand, Ethan’s thoughts turned from gentlemanly to murderous in a trice.