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“I will keep your trust if Mercy wishes it,” Emmet said. “As long as Peter’s true nature does not pose a threat to her.”
“Peter could never be a threat to me,” I said. “Yes. I want this kept between us.”
“But does it not change your feelings toward him, knowing he is no more a normal man than I am?” Emmet asked, a certain wistfulness in his tone.
I felt Claire’s eyes fix on me like a drill boring through metal. “I think deep down, I’ve always known he was something more than that. So, no,” I said as I met Claire’s gaze, “my feelings for Peter haven’t changed.” Her face softened at my words, but Emmet’s self-satisfied smile told me that he felt he had found a foothold.
SEVENTEEN
The door began to shake as the sound of a fist pounding against it echoed through the room. I jumped. “Open up,” Peter called out, sounding like he was scared out of his wits. He kept up the pounding as Claire shook herself from stunned silence and crossed the room to open the door for her son. Peter lunged through the doorway as soon as she undid the deadbolt. He grabbed her upper arms and pulled her to him for a quick squeeze. When he pushed her away, she stood there covered in plaster dust, as if she didn’t quite know what to do. His eyes darted around the room and found me, and within seconds he had swept me into his arms. I could feel his heart pounding. “Are you all right?” he asked, loosening his grip on me enough to examine me.
“I’m fine. We’re all fine,” I said, trying to calm him, but his eyes fell to the ruined floor.
“What the hell has been going on here?”
“Your mother has been a foolish woman,” Claire said as she closed the door. “She has been mistaking friends for foes and enemies for allies.”
“Okay, but that still doesn’t tell me a damn thing.” I had never before heard Peter use even the mildest of profanities around his mother. I suspected Claire’s own shame was the only thing keeping her from giving him a good round swatting.
“We’re okay,” I said again.
“I should have known you were here,” Peter said, finally taking note of Emmet’s presence. “If there is trouble, you are bound to be nearby.”
Emmet held his tongue, but his dark eyes cut into Peter like daggers.
“Mr. Clay just saved the lives of your mother, your wife, and your child,” Claire said, collapsing into a chair. “You owe him a debt of gratitude. As do I. He’s a man of honor.”
Peter’s face began to soften when Emmet chose the worst possible time to make a point of clarification. “She is not his wife yet,” he stated in a matter-of-fact tone. Peter’s face flushed candy-apple red and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head.
“Maybe not legally,” I jumped in, holding Peter’s forearm tightly, “but in every other way.” The men’s faces reacted in a seesaw fashion, with Peter’s forehead relaxing as Emmet’s eyebrows pinched together. A question hit me and drew my full attention to Peter. “How did you know to come? How did you know we were in trouble?”
“Colin called me.”
“But your father’s out fishing with friends. He couldn’t have known,” Claire said, looking up at him.
“Not my father,” Peter said. “My son. I know it sounds crazy, but I felt him calling me. I knew he was here, and I knew he was afraid. I dropped everything and ran.” My hand fell to my stomach. Half witch, half fairy—oh my, little one, you are truly going to be a wild card. Has there ever been another like you? Peter smiled and placed his hand over mine. “I guess my boy takes after his mom.” His smile faded. “What is that smell?”
“It’s a long story,” I began.
“I have time.” Peter escorted me to the chair next to his mother’s. “Out with it.”
“Your mother believed I posed a threat to Mercy and your child,” Emmet said without a shred of emotion in his voice. He might as well have been reading ingredients for a recipe.
“I’d like to hear it from them, thank you,” Peter said, his fists curling tight and his shoulders tensing.
“Let him talk,” Claire said.
“Sit,” I said, hoping that Peter would let the tension leave his body if he did. He spun a chair around, placing his forearms on the back of it, but he didn’t relax one little bit.
“I am, of course, in no way a danger to Mercy or your child. I have vowed to protect Mercy until she can protect herself.”
“She shouldn’t have to protect herself. I should be the one to protect her.”
“You have no magic, but you are marrying a witch who is one of the anchors of the line. The dangers she will face require great power to stave off, and again, you have none.”
Peter started up from his chair. “Sit,” Claire commanded. Peter hovered, not sure whether to obey her or toss Emmet out of the bar. “He’s right, son. I’m sorry. I know you’d like to be the one to keep Mercy safe, but today I’ve seen what she’s up against. You’re a good man—a strong man—but you are only a man.” She rushed through the words as if she feared either Emmet or I might object to them. “The things I’ve seen today . . . There are monsters out there. You owe it to Mercy and your son to be man enough to let Mr. Clay teach her what she needs to know. Don’t get in the way. I did, and it almost cost us everything. If you love her, you are going to have to let her be the strong one.”
