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He shifts uneasily on the platform. “I may have underplayed the risks a bit.”
“Clearly.”
His grip on my hands tightens. “Truth—Yes, I’ve held back, done everything in my power not to scare you off. I’m glad of it because now you’re with me.” Those green glass eyes stare me down. “I’d never have found the cross to take to Mrs. Kennedy. That was you seeing things fresh.” He stares at the ceiling. “I’ve been stuck in my ways of trying to fix it for too long. Without you, I might as well stop trying and take my punishment.”
I stare at our joined hands. I’m not a risk taker in the first place, and now he’s introducing a massive danger factor.
“Your punishment?”
“Och, be deaf to my foolish choice of words. I beg you.”
The all too familiar sense of my equilibrium going to hell begins to drift over me.
Punishments.
Danger.
An attack of vertigo hits me on this platform that’s not more than two feet off the ground. “Oh, shit.” I grasp Sion’s arm for balance.
He hugs me to his chest. A strong hand strokes my back. His touch ignites warm eddies that permeate my body, driving away the crawling sensation of panic.
I cling to him. “How are you doing this? I’ve never been able to pull out of an episode so quickly.” Memories of his singing to calm my racing heart after the Veil nearly did us in this morning wraps around me. He may not be a Faerie, but the man definitely has something of magic in his touch, his voice.
Sion separates us just enough to touch his forehead to mine—his voice a whisper. “I promised, I’d never let you fall, neither from heights nor from fear.” Sion lifts my chin and touches the tip of his pinkie to the tear lingering in the corner of my eye. “We’re meant to do this, me and you.”
My heart swells, pushing doubt farther from my center to make way for a surge of feelings for Sion.
We’re meant to do this…
I believe him. I made a commitment to a journey the moment I agreed to go to Leap Castle and find Matthew Kennedy with a man who falls Finnbheara only knows where on the human spectrum. Little Harriett and Alaina Kennedy rising to the stars must be my talismans for courage.
I lay my head on Sion’s shoulder. It feels so right, natural. “I know.”
“So,” he gives our still joined hands a shake, blowing past the tenderness of the moment. “Tonight, we’ll go to Dunamase to pay Strongbow and Aoife a visit. We’ll sniff around for a chance to return the bugger’s wee rings of steel.”
And back to business. It seems every time I almost muster up the courage to pry into his feelings for me, he steers our ship back to the task at hand. “Dunamase?”
“Himself’s castle.” Sion blows a stream of air. “I’ve tried to convince Pwyll to travel, but ole rattle bones will have none of it.”
I sit up. “A druid on the team would be handy.” It was scary enough to go as far back as the sixteenth century to Leap Castle. Picturing a jaunt to the Rock of Dunamase in the even more barbaric twelfth century threatens to turn my guts to mush. Visions of the stacked bodies in the wedding painting add to the potential liquefaction of my bones. I’ve got until sunset to convert my watery core into bravery. At least before we travel tonight, I’ll have time to scour the Internet to brush up on details of life in the 1100s.
“Wait.” I tap a finger to my lip, conjuring the memory of Sion’s kiss last night at Leap Castle. A piece of Olk’s Strongbow lecture plays through my head, connecting with my mental catalogue of facts. “The cathedral is a bust, but rumors say there may be another tomb where Strongbow ended up.”
“There’s a claim the old boyo’s final rest is on the grounds of old Fern’s Cathedral down Wexford way, but Christ Church is where a betting man puts his money.”
“Wexford?”
“Aye.”
“If I can get us to Fern’s to check out this other potential burial site before the start of the Celtic Day, will you at least try to put the chainmail in whatever grave might be there before we Veil travel to Dunamase?”
Sion drops his head back and grumbles.
I lay both hands on his cheeks and return his head to the upright position so he has no choice but to look me in the eye. “Will you?”
He closes his eyes for a long moment and then groans. “All right, Swan. I suppose it’s worth a go if you can get us there without wasting heartbeats.” A crease rises and falls like a wave from beneath one of his brows, dipping across the bridge of his nose until it completes a final curve under the opposite brow.
“I’ll do my best, Fox.” We’re close enough than even a semi-lean from either of us will bring our lips together. The thought sets off a simmering pool of desire below my navel.
