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“No, it doesn’t help at all.” But Stone smiled as he slowly blew air from his cheeks then took another gulp of whisky.
Ian’s thoughts took a turn as he considered Regan’s blood rose state. How naïve he’d been, or maybe just ignorant, to think he could drop her off in Swanicott and not think twice about it.
But even these few thoughts brought his fangs descending. He knew there were several lesser mastyr vampires in Swanicott who would have been equally drawn to Regan as either he or Stone were.
A growl escaped his throat before he could prevent it.
“So,” Davido drawled. “What’s going on now? Are you planning to attack Mastyr Stone again? Do I need to prepare myself to intervene once more?”
Ian glanced at Davido, wondering what the hell he was talking about, then came to a sudden awareness of his fang-state. He covered his mouth with his hand. “Shit, sorry. I was thinking about what could have happened if I’d actually taken Regan back to her realm.” He worked at retracting his fangs.
Davido stared at him, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement.
He was one of the ugliest trolls Ian had ever known. His skin was heavily wrinkled, and his three forehead ridge rolls sprouted hair in a few places.
Despite his lack of looks, women flocked to the short man because of his abundant charisma. That he’d wooed and won the beautiful Vojalie spoke to his nature more than anything else. He was a good man, an excellent father, and made a strong habit of not taking life too seriously. In fact, all he did at present was serve two mastyr vampires a healthy dose of scotch; he didn’t even dispense advice.
“What am I supposed to do, Davido? You know my history with Regan.”
The three rolls of Davido’s forehead squinched up. “Now, how am I supposed to have an answer to such a question? I’m not a vampire for one thing nor do I have the smallest idea what it feels like to suddenly be obsessed with a blood rose. Sorry, my boy, but I can’t help you at all.” He jerked his thumb in Stone’s direction. “Though you might want to think about sending this one packing.”
Ian met Stone’s amused gaze. “That was my first thought, but we need him here. How about you spend the night’s rotation with Ben until I get things with Regan figured out? My instincts tell me I’m going to need your battling support.”
Stone nodded, holding his tumbler out to Davido who in turn added another two fingers. “I agree. Besides, it seems to me we might have a chance to end this war for good now that we know where Margetta’s fortress is.”
Ian ran a hand through his hair. Somewhere in the battling, he’d lost his woven Guardsman’s clasp. Stone had as well.
A thought occurred to him. “Hold on. Malik said he did something to keep Zane from chasing Willow, but what was that?”
“I remember now,” Stone said. “It was all over the loop. Malik took some of Willow’s blood and spread it up his forearms in long streaks. Zane said it worked, that his obsessive drive toward Willow ended abruptly.”
“That’s what we’ll do, then.”
Davido cleared his throat.
Ian frowned at him. “What?”
“Won’t you need to ask Regan if she’s on board?”
“I don’t see her compliance as an issue.”
Davido shook his head. “You were always absurdly stubborn. But let us hope she’s as willing to oblige you as you think she is. You haven’t exactly given her reason to adore your sweet self.”
Ian’s lips quirked. “That last bit is very true, but Regan has a sensible side.” At least he hoped she’d be practical given their current predicament.
~ ~ ~
Regan sat on the black leather couch in the library. “I forgot what it was like with Ian on every front, the good parts and the bad. From the time I fed him at the bottom of the gorge, I’ve felt as though I’ve gotten stuck on a carnival ride with way too many sudden highs and lows. I’m ready to get off, as in now.”
Vojalie nodded several times in succession. “Are you still determined to return to Swanicott?”
“I want to make use of the significant resources at my fae retreat, and I intend to contact the Fae Council. It’s time we, as a fae community, stepped up together to confront Margetta. Surely, as a working unit we can uncover a spell to rid her encampment of the shielding mist.”
“Did you try to solve the spell while you were there?”
Regan thought back to the sequence of events since she didn’t see the wall of mist until she’d escaped from the tower. “Though I was able to detect a spell over a portion of the camp tents, the best I could do was to imprint the spell in my mind. I had no luck, however, dissecting the formula at all. And you have no idea how hard I tried. I think there might have been a blocking spell in place.
“As far as the mist goes, its presence came as a huge surprise. I’d had no idea there was even a spell along the southern edge of the property until I’d reached the catwalk. By then, I had very little time to escape. So, no, I was never near the mist long enough to take a reasonable stab at its composition.”
