Page 51 of Shaw

Chapter Fourteen

Jumping from ancient Japan to the great hall at Dun Ard meant Julianne found herself standing in the middle of the evening meal with Shaw, both of them half undressed, while hundreds of clansmen stared at them. She shifted closer to her lover to hide the fact that he had his hand inside her robe while she tried to discreetly haul his pants up over his bare butt.

“Let me handle this,” she murmured to her lover. “Everyone likes me better.”

He gave her a look only a guy in that situation could give, and sighed as he reached for his pant laces.

“Hey, clan people, we’re back,” Julianne announced in her most cheerful voice as she waved at the men, and then at the women sitting at the laird’s table. “V, you would not believe how amazing Japan is in the twelfth century.” She rewrapped the front of her robe. “Look at this kimono they gave me while they were washing my clothes, Lark. Pretty, isn’t it? I think it’s silk. There’s silk in the twelfth century, right? Like that road thing?”

Connal rose from his chair. “Guards.”

As guys with swords came toward them Shaw stepped in front of her. “’Twasnae her doing, my lord. I bid her take me from the island.”

“I don’t think they’re mad at me, Chief,” Julianne mentioned to him. To the laird she said, “Your bro did great, Lord C. Like he didn’t turn oil slick even for like a sec. He’s been completely chill and no one died, I promise. Bring me a stack of bibles and I’ll swear on them.”

“You’re talking too much, lass,” Shaw told her, although he was looking at the laird as if he wanted to punch him.

Nyall joined the guards, and inspected both of them before he looked back at the laird. “’Twould seem the chieftain wishes report on what occurred, my lord. Permit me some time that I may speak with him.”

Connal nodded, and the guards backed away as the captain and Shaw left the hall, but then followed them. Julianne considered going after them, but that might make matters worse. She should probably tell the laird and the ladies more about what they discovered during the two jumps off the island, which should make things better for her lover. She walked over to the laird’s table and sat across from Valerie.

“So you’re back, Jules.” Caroline came and perched on the seat next to Lark. “Did you have some fun with Shaw while you were gone?”

“Fun, no. I had druids in my face, and a scary nightmare, and then this Japanese monk with his scrolls of doom seriously got on my nerves.” She saw the diver’s expression and grimaced. “It’s a lot to tell, but at least I found out more about Shaw’s Pritani spirit thing. Buster isn’t as bad as everyone thinks, you know.”

“I beg your pardon, what did you call it?” Valerie asked.

“Buster.” She waited until Lark stopped giggling before she added, “The spirit told me his real name, but that reminds me of a fish, so I gave him a nickname. Anyone know what Bàs means?”

One of the maids setting some food on their table shrieked and ran from the hall, while all the MacMar near them started muttering. When Valerie turned around to glare, a guard at the next table said, “’Tis the old word for death, my lady. Mortals yet fear speaking the name out loud.”

“Jules, you gave Death a nickname?” Caroline seemed impressed. “And I thought I was ballsy for punching a shark shifter in the mouth. Good job.”

“I didn’t know it meant death,” Julianne admitted, “but okay. Buster is way better than that.”

The laird’s wife cleared her throat. “So, do you think Shaw and the spirit will get along now?”

“I don’t know. Shaw’s hated him for a long time, and Buster is all about the darkness, you know.” She shrugged. “But that’s just his job.”

“His job,” the diver echoed, her brows drawing together.

“Like V is a teacher, and Lark a seamstress, and I’m a lifeguard. We’re other stuff, too, but we really like what we do and think of ourselves as that, don’t we?” As the other women nodded Julianne grinned, happy they understood. “Buster’s the same way. He’s the end of stuff, and he really likes his job and has gotten uber good at it. But for sure he’s also lonely and worried about Shaw and me and maybe this enchantress chick coming to the island and doing his job for him. He’s pretty picky about who or what he ends. They like, have to totally deserve it.”

“Julianne.” Lark took hold of her hands. “You can’t fall in love with Buster. I mean, Bàs. He’s not a man. He’s the immortal spirit of a Pritani god.”

“Do you think he wanted to be Death, if that’s what he is?” she asked. “I mean, say you’re like a little dude god spirit, and they tell you to pick your job. Would you say ‘Oh, yeah, I want to be a speedy black oil slick that makes people poop their pants when I show up’ and stand in that line?”

“Poor Buster,” Lark said, and sighed. “I bet he didn’t get to pick.”

“Rilke believed that everything terrible might be something helpless, that wants help from us,” Valerie said, her expression growing sad.

“Mr. Rogers said it was love or the lack of it that’s at the root of all things,” Caroline put in, nodding. “I believe that.”

The seamstress sat back in her chair. “Alexander McQueen thought there was beauty in everything, even what most people think is ugly.”

Julianne knew they were softening toward Shaw’s Big Bad, which was a good thing. The nightmare she’d had in the borderlands still bothered her, however. Her stomach then growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since leaving the island.

“I think we should let our lifeguard refuel, ladies,” Caroline said. “Here, Jules. Have some of Brochan’s honeycakes. There will be nothing better to eat on the planet until my people steal baklava from the Turks.” She handed her a plate piled with them.