Never More (8 page)

“Ah, Miss Amanda. Of course. One moment, please.”

They drove in silence until Duncan’s deep, rich voice came over the speaker. “Raven, what can I do for you?”

“Do you know any fae-run venues in the area that can handle Robin’s wedding?” Raven made the turn onto the highway that would lead them toward Omaha. “You know the timeline we’re under.”

Duncan sighed. “Why Michaela insisted on having the wedding now I will never know.”

“Why
did
she?” Amanda rustled some papers, pulling out a legal pad and a pen.

“I have no idea.” Duncan grunted wearily. “I can put you in touch with some people, but I’m not sure how willing they will be to work with you.”

Raven glanced at Amanda. “Let’s keep that between you and me. We don’t need my father getting upset because some fae can’t let my past go.”

“Excellent idea.” Duncan cleared his throat. “I’ll call around and see what I can find out. Come meet me here, and I’ll accompany you.”

Raven hoped his relief didn’t show in his face. “Thank you, Duncan. I appreciate this.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll let Moira know you’re coming as well. She might have some ideas that can help.”

“And Jaden?” Amanda asked.

“He’s…sleeping.” Duncan’s tone was wary, no doubt protecting his bondmate from the mortal inquiry.

“She knows about us. She’s mine.” Raven ignored Amanda’s snarl as he turned toward Duncan’s estate. “My father already knows as well.”

“Have you Claimed her?”

“We’ve kissed, yes.”

“Ah.” Duncan’s amusement came through clearly. “Have you explained the rest of it to her?”

“I haven’t had the time.” He’d left her bedroom soon after the earth-shattering kiss they’d shared. She’d been far too tired for them to have the conversation he knew was still coming.

“I’d make the time, if possible before the rehearsal.”

“I will.” Raven looked at the time. “We should be there in about ten minutes or so.”

“All right. We’ll see you soon.”

Raven hung up the phone and waited for the barrage of questions.

“What’s the rest of the Claiming?” She tilted her head. “Hell, what’s a Claiming?”

“Remember our kiss last night?” Because boy, did Raven. He could spend hours doing nothing but kissing her.

“Yes,” she replied warily.

“What do you think is the next step?”

She was silent for a moment. “Second base?”

“Try rounding the bases all the way home.”

“Tonsil hockey is one thing, but I don’t know you well enough to play spot the clitoris.”

He swerved, almost running them into a guardrail. “Well. This is our second date. How long until we get to hide the jalapeño?”

“Second date?” She scoffed. “I’m using you, minion.”

He winced, trying not to allow bad memories to taint the fun they were having. “Yeah, well…I got nothing.”

She put her hand on his arm. “Sorry. I forgot.”

“It’s all right. I’ve got to get used to it.” Raven pulled up in front of Duncan’s house, grateful that this conversation was about to be cut off before he was forced to relive his nightmares for her. “We’re here.”

He got out of the car, surprised when she remained seated, just staring at him through the side window. When she finally climbed out, she startled him by thrusting her paperwork into his hands. “C’mon, big guy. This was your bright idea. Let’s find out if I’m going to pull all my hair out before the day is over.”

“I hope not. I like your hair.” Sunshine and peaches. How could anything so simple and sweet have the Raven Lord following a dainty little human like a lamb to the slaughter?

But follow he did, his gaze on the swell of her ass as she marched up the front steps and rang the bell.

Chapter Eight

The moment they entered the house, Raven relaxed. The tense set of his shoulders eased, and the cocky expression was back on his face. Goth boy felt safe here, and for some reason Amanda’s subconscious seemed to be taking her cues from him. All the tension she’d felt in the car melted away, to be replaced by a feeling of comfort.

Yeah. She was losing it.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Goodfellow, Ms. Pierson.” A tall, stately looking man with silver at his temples and wearing a crisp black business suit stood at the open doorway, a smile on his face and a hand extended in welcome. “May I take your coats?”

Raven handed over his jacket. “Hello, Ian. How is the family today?”

Ian’s gaze was filled with affection. “They are doing well, Mr. Goodfellow.” He took Amanda’s outstretched jacket and turned on his heel, the door shutting behind him as if on its own. “If you’ll follow me, please, I believe L…Duncan is awaiting you in his office.”

Raven stopped the butler with one hand on his shoulder. “She knows.”

Ian barely raised a brow. “Ah. Then I shall inform Mrs. Pagett that there is no need for secrecy.”

“Your wife?” Amanda inquired.

Ian stared at her in sheer horror, his expression smoothing as he cleared his throat. “No, Ms. Pierson. Mrs. Pagett’s bondmate would quite literally rip my head from my shoulders should I so much as look at her sideways.” He leaned in and whispered quietly, “Her bondmate is a lovely lady troll. They’re almost as territorial as the Sidhe.”

Amanda stopped dead in her tracks. Troll?

Troll?

Oh, she was
so
out of here.

Before she could make a break for it, Raven grabbed hold of her and began marching her forward. “Onward, brave wedding planner. You must slay the terrible caterer before entering the Venue of Vows and claiming the ultimate prize of having your picture taken with your mouth full of cake.”

She squawked.

“Yes, I know.” Raven turned to Ian. “Could we have some tea sent to Duncan’s office? I believe Ms. Pierson’s nerves are getting the better of her.”

“Of course, Lord Goodfellow. I’ll see to it at once.” Ian opened the door to Duncan’s office. “Lord Goodfellow and Ms. Pierson are here to see you, sir.”

Duncan Blackthorn stood and walked toward them, his hand extended in welcome. “Come in. Moira’s been eager to see you again.”

Amanda was still stuck back on the word
troll
. “Gurk?”

Duncan laughed. “What did you do to her?”

“Me?” Raven pointed toward his chest. “Your butler broke my bondmate.”

Duncan’s gaze widened briefly, his only indication that this was his first time hearing that Amanda and Raven were somehow connected. “Ah. Do I want to know?”

Raven gave Duncan that lazy, bad-boy grin of his. “Mrs. Pagett’s bondmate.”

Duncan laughed. “Oh.” He waved toward a pair of seats in front of his desk.

In a daze, Amanda took one. “This is the weirdest week
ever
.”

The door to the office shut quietly behind them.

“So.” Duncan took a seat once more behind his desk. “I understand you’re having some difficulty finding a venue for Robin’s wedding.”

Amanda took a deep breath and told her inner child to go hide under the bed while Mommy took care of business. She put one of the folders down on the small table between the two chairs. “With such short notice, and a lack of contacts in the area, having trouble is a bit of an understatement.”

Duncan nodded. “Yes, I can see how that would be an issue. Let me make a few phone calls. There’s someone who owes me a favor or two. Perhaps I can call that in.”

“Are you sure? You might need that favor at a later date.” Wasn’t there something in the legends about fae and debts owed? That they never quite paid you back in the way you hoped?

Or was that genies? Did genies exist? She’d have to ask Raven. Or Ruby.

Or just get the hell out of Nebraska.

Duncan waved his hand. “It’s what you do for family.” He picked up the phone and began dialing, his words low.

Raven stood and moved to the window, some of that tension he’d lost back in the set of his wide shoulders. Something about the way he stared, the tilt of his head, the way his fists were clenched in his pockets, had her standing and going over to him. She was nervous as she approached him, terrified something was out there, watching them. Waiting for them to leave Duncan’s safe little world. “Raven?”

His only response was the lift of a brow.

“Everything all right?” She put her hand on his arm. The skin beneath her palm was warm, the muscles tight. “It’s not, is it?”

He shrugged.

“Are your birdie senses tingling?”

That got a reaction. “Birdie senses?” The disbelief in his tone, the way he finally turned his head to stare at her incredulously, had her biting back laughter.

He made a thoroughly disgusted noise as he turned back to the window. “Birdie senses.”

Amanda patted his arm. “Now, now. Don’t get your feathers in a ruffle.”

“And we’re on to the bird puns. Wonderful.” But some of the tension had left his shoulders, and his lips were quirking up in a smile.

“What can I say? Someone needs to give you more flock about it.”

Raven rolled his eyes. “That was hawkward.”

“Yeah. It was totally fowl.”

“Toucan play at this game, you know. I cawtapulted to fame on the strength of my tweets.”

“Oof,” Amanda grunted. “You sure laid an egg with that one.”

“Owl have you know I’ve never been a father.” He blinked. “Or a mother.”

“So your use of prophylactics is something to crow about?” She had to admit, she was having fun coming up with this stuff, but she was running out of bad bird puns rather quickly.

“See? This is why I like you.” Raven grinned. “You thrush right in with the sexy talk.”

“Time to put an end to this before it terns into a murder,” Amanda muttered.

Raven threw his head back and laughed. “Fine. You win, my little wren.” His gaze returned to the window, and his humor fled. “I just wish I knew where Sayyid is.”

“Who?” Amanda stared out the window as well, but all she saw was manicured lawn and trees in the distance.

“My brother. He’s trying to kill me.”

“He’s…like you?”

Raven chuckled darkly. “Hardly. He’s half Robin, yes, but he’s also half Djinn.”

“Djinn. As in, genie?”

Raven nodded.

“As in
Aladdin
,
Arabian Nights
, ‘cuffs on his wrists and lives in a lamp’ genie?”

“Nope. As in, the kind that will kill you simply to hurt me.”

“Oh.” Amanda’s knees began to feel weak, and not in the good way. “D.C. seems nice this time of year.”

“Amanda?” Duncan’s voice pulled her attention away from Raven. “If you could come here for a moment, I think I have a venue for Robin.”

Amanda walked away from Raven, well aware that his attention was firmly fixed on her as she sat across from Duncan once more. “What’ve you got for me?”

Duncan slid a tablet PC across the table to her. “This.”

It was…a vineyard. A beautiful Italian villa surrounded by greenery, with a huge back deck looking out over the fields of grapes. The fall colors were gorgeous, and at night, the vineyard was lit with strung fairy lights down the rows. There was a place beneath a huge oak that would be perfect for Robin and Michaela to say their vows, with an indoor space just off the main ballroom perfect for wine tasting before the reception. “Perfect.”

“Isn’t it?” Duncan sat back with a huge grin. “My friend says we’re welcome to use his place, but no one can sleep there. We’ll have to get hotel accommodations for out-of-town guests.”

“Taken care of. I managed to wing a block of rooms at a historic art deco hotel downtown.” Amanda sighed. “It wasn’t easy, and it’s going to cost Robin a small fortune, but it’s within the gargantuan budget he gave me.” She tapped her nail on the edge of the tablet. “We need to arrange for transportation for the guests there and back again.”

“Buses will do for everyone except the wedding party and the royal party members. They’ll need limos.”

Amanda grimaced. “That will be fun to put together, but let me see what I can come up with before I ask for your help again.”

“Very well.”

“I think we can do this.” Amanda stared, stunned, at the words she’d jotted down. “The place is gorgeous, Duncan. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Duncan rubbed his forehead. “Tell me again why Michaela wanted her wedding to be now? Why not do the traditional yearlong wait so we have time to get everything together?”

“I have no idea.” Amanda had dealt with quickie weddings before, but rarely
this
quick. “I’m thinking it has something to do with the alignment of moons.”

“No.” Moira entered the room, Ian right behind her. The butler was pushing a cart with tea and snacks on it. “Michaela has very strong feelings about things, and she told Robin the wedding had to happen
now
or something bad would happen.”

Duncan sat up straight, concern turning his expression dark. “Did Shane say anything?”

“Does Shane ever?” Moira shrugged and settled in her mate’s lap. “He says it has more to do with Raven than Michaela, but he won’t, or can’t, say how.”

Raven stilled, like a bird sighting its prey.

Duncan immediately turned to Raven. “What do you need us to do?”

The grateful expression on Raven’s face quickly morphed into one of determination. “If it affects me, it affects Amanda.” His gaze darted toward her, and she found herself swallowed in the heat of his blue-green gaze. “Robin promised to look after her, but he has Michaela to watch over as well.”

“And she’s more than a handful on her own.” Duncan nodded. “I will guard Amanda when you can’t.”

“Thank you, but my father has it covered.” The bow of Raven’s head was formal.

For just a second Amanda wanted to protest, but then her common sense kicked in. If something was after Raven that made him afraid, it would make pâté out of Amanda without breaking a sweat. Her best option was to accept the protection of those around her until she could figure out a way to protect herself. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Duncan smiled. “Don’t worry, it won’t be so bad. You’ll find Jaden an amusing companion, and I know several ways to help you get Robin’s wedding off the ground.”

“Sir, if I may?” Amanda had completely forgotten about Ian. “I believe my cousin would be willing to handle the wedding cake despite the short notice. All she would ask is that, if it is satisfactory, her name be mentioned as the crafter.”

“Can we set up a tasting with her? I’ve already lined up a caterer tasting for three days from now, so if we can do it then that would be perfect.” The caterer had heard the name Robin Goodfellow and been immediately willing to provide the food for the event. It didn’t take Sherlock to leap to the conclusion that the woman was some sort of fae.

Even more interesting, she’d agreed to the demand that Robin’s hobgoblins inspect the food before it was served. Something about poisoning the guests, horrifying Amanda. But the woman had been willing to deal with the unreasonable demand for such high-profile clients. She just hoped the baker would be willing to do the same.

“Of course. I’ll give you her number.” Ian bowed and left the room, only to return moments later with a piece of paper and some scribbling on it. “There you are.”

“And here we go.” Raven smiled as he walked away from the window, but it was strained. “Thanks again, Duncan. I’ll let my father know how much of a help you’ve been.”

“Of course.” Duncan stood and bowed to Raven, who appeared shocked. “I will see you this evening, Lord Raven.”

“This evening, then.” Raven’s voice was quiet, his tone speculative, but he followed Ian toward the door and took his coat with a sincere thanks.

Was it just another piece of the puzzle that was Raven, or did Duncan know something Raven didn’t?

Raven decided to break the silence first. Amanda had been staring out the window on the drive back to the Dunne farm, her gaze unfocused. Whatever she was thinking about had her tearing a tissue into tiny little bits. The desire to ease her became overwhelming, so he spoke. “What’s the name of the winery?”

She snorted out a laugh. “Fairy Tale Winery. Of course.”

“Fairy…Tale?” Raven’s eyes went wide. “For the love of all that is holy, make no mention of Tinkerbell.”

“Huh?” Amanda stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

How to explain fairies to someone who’d never before been forced to deal with them? “Fairies are…
not
Tinkerbell.” He rubbed his chin, pondering how best to explain it. “See, the thing is, fairies
do
fly, but they don’t really have wings the way you’d think of them. And they do have fairy dust, but being sprinkled with it won’t make you fly unless the fairy wants you to. And they’re really,
really
pissy about the whole Tinkerbell thing.”

“I’m starting to get that impression.” Amanda watched him, waiting for…something. “All right. Let’s start with the wings, shall we?”

“Ugh. They’re one of the harder things to explain.” He scowled, remembering some of the fairies he’d fought in the past. “They have multiple ways to fly. Some of them form wings out of their dust, some use their dust to enchant a twig or a branch, and some just…fly because, fuck it, they’re fairies.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Most of them use dust wings. The strongest are of the fuck-it variety. The weakest of them—”

“Ride wood.”

Such an innocent, angelic face his Amanda had. The potty mouth, though, was his favorite part. “Yes. They ride wood. Hard, rigid wood, sliding between their thighs, held tight between slender hands.”

Those pretty blue eyes of hers were completely guileless. “And broken in half if it doesn’t perform as expected.”

Raven couldn’t help it. He winced.

“Something wrong?”

“Nope.” He cleared his throat. It wouldn’t do to sound like, well, Tinkerbell on helium. At least his lack of manhood got a laugh out of her. “Fairy dust is what all fairy magic comes from. It doesn’t have the range or duration of some other fae workings, but in the limited scope of the dust they’re capable of great feats.”