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Keegan sat beside her. “Odran has no feelings for anyone or anything but power. You know this.”
“I know it, but to see him—his own child.” She drank a little wine, then a little more. “We have to end this, Keegan. The suffering, the cruelty. The midwife, one of the Wise, kept as a slave. Her hands, what it did to her. What they’ve done to her. It has to end.”
“Shana. Will she live, do you think?”
“They seemed to think so. But I think there was too much blood loss, too much damage to heal her by means of light. I think Yseult will use dark magicks. Oh God, more sacrifices. To kill you. God, Keegan, to try to get her back here to kill you. We can’t let her come back.”
But he sat, coolly, and obviously considering. “It wouldn’t be the easiest thing, on any part of it.”
“She’s crazy, and probably crazier after this, and after whatever they do to keep her alive. Make her strong, he said. You have to be careful. You have to have protection. I’ll cancel the trip to Philadelphia and New York. We’ll—”
“You’ll do no such of a thing.”
She rounded on him. “Do you think I’d leave when he’s beefing up an insane assassin to kill you?”
“I think I’m well able to defend myself against such as Shana.”
She fisted her hands in her own hair and had to resist the urge to tear it out.
“Did you hear him? Her fondest wish, and he’s right. He’s smart enough to know she wants you dead more than anything else.”
“I’d say you rank high on her list as well.”
He spoke easily, the leader of the Fey, gauging his ground, judging his enemy.
“So we’ll all have a care, as she’s mad enough to go against him and try for you again. Weeks, they said, in any case, and what I saw? I’m not altogether sure even with magicks dark and light they’ll heal her body enough. And don’t you think we saw what we saw so we’d be prepared for it if they do?”
“Yes, I do, which is why I’m staying.”
“You’re not. I’m taoiseach and a warrior and of the Wise. I know the enemy, Breen Siobhan, and very well. Mad she is, but no warrior. And if you think a mad elf could get the better of me, well, I’m insulted. Add to it, you’ll be gone for a handful of days. What we’ll do is tell those who need to know there’s trickery expected at a portal. A pity we don’t know which they’ll use, but we’ll keep an eye on all.”
He gave her an absent kiss on the forehead. “Finish your wine and steady yourself.”
“Damn it, I’m steady enough.”
“You are. You don’t flutter about as long or as much as you once did.”
“I never fluttered about. And you’re trying to annoy me so I won’t argue with you.”
“Arguing about it just wastes the time, and we need some sleep.” He set his empty glass aside. “Trust me on this. I expect your trust.”
“It’s not not trusting.”
He kissed her again, then rose to strip down. “You can worry a bit. But not too much. Too much goes back to being insulting.”
“You’re not invulnerable, Keegan.”
“Witch, warrior, dragon rider, taoiseach against a mad elf who never fought in a single battle.”
“She killed Loren.”
“Because he loved her. I don’t. Go on to your bed,” he told Bollocks. “I’ve got her now.”
He took the wine from her, a glass still half-full, set it aside. Then just plucked her up, laid her down.
“Do you know what Han Solo said to Luke Skywalker?”
“I like those stories.” He pulled her over so her head rested on his shoulder. “Which thing? ‘May the Force be with you’?”
