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Her hand sought out Conor’s dagger, her fingers wrapping themselves familiarly around the hilt. For some reason, this seemed to steady her. The buzzing subsided. The figures before her grew solid and real again.
“You’ll not have her.” Conor’s voice held a threatening weight.
Asher reached out. Ran the tip of one claw-like finger down Conor’s blade. He never moved. Never flinched. “Won’t I? Once I choose to do something, I generally have my way. Ask your sister.” His eyes lit with an evil glow. “Oh, that’s right. You can’t. Well then, ask your cousin instead.” He motioned for another to step forward. “I love family reunions.”
It was the villain from the woods. Seeing them together, the Bligh resemblance was obvious. He was as tall as Conor and with the same arrogant pose, but this man’s face held only traces of Conor’s hard beauty.
Conor’s whole body seemed to vibrate with rage. This time, the sword wavered. His face became white as chalk. “I should bury this blade in your chest and be done.”
“You could try,” the man answered, nervously fingering the same wolf-head ring she’d seen on Conor.
“What was your price for handing her over, Simon? What lies did he promise you?”
Though he worked to look unmoved, Simon winced; a shadow passed over him. Then he shrugged. “What does anyone want? Power, of course.” He shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand. You were always the gifted one. The golden child. Now it’s my turn.”
“But Ysbel—” Conor’s voice broke; his hands shook. Ellery’s grip tightened on the dagger. If Asher caught even a hint of Conor’s true condition, it was over. The taunts would end in bloodshed.
“Enough,” Asher commanded. “I shall take the girl.” Conor’s lips curled in a cruel smile. “You’ll not have her.” Asher laughed. “You don’t think you’ll stop me? You couldn’t save your sister. This one will be much the same.” He thrust, aiming his barbed sword at Conor’s stomach, meeting his blade instead in a shower of sparks.
Her horse shied, Ellery’s knees tightened on the saddle as she steadied herself. Adjusted her grip on the knife. Found the best angle. Aimed. Released.
Conor was retreating beneath Asher’s attack when her blade found the demon’s back. Buried itself hilt-deep into the flesh below his left lung.
A wind whipped around her, a maelstrom that burned and chilled her both. She threw a hand up to shield her eyes. Then it was silent. And Asher was gone. Simon was a memory.
She and Conor were alone once again in the stable. She slid off the horse. Her knees shook as she landed. Her whole body shook by the time she’d crossed the room to Conor. “What happened?”
Conor held his side, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He nodded toward the dagger that lay on the stable floor. “Iron. It disrupted Asher’s magic.”
“Well, that’s
it then. It wasn’t nearly as difficult as you made it seem.”
“He’s not dead, Ellery. Only interrupted.” He struggled up, bit off a curse. “Somehow his wards were breached. Enough to allow you to penetrate with that dagger. He’ll need time to recover before he returns.” He dabbed a hand at a long bloody weal down his side, hissing in pain. “It’s a reprieve, not a victory.”
She reached for him. “You need help.”
“No,” he barked, causing Ellery to flinch. “You still don’t understand. He knows about you now. You’ve got to get out of here.”
He caught up her horse’s reins, leading him out of the stable. “Remember. South toward Penzance.”
She mounted, gathering the horse beneath her. “Aren’t you coming with me?”
Conor’s head came up, his eyes trained on the darkness beyond the yard. “I’ll catch up. We’ve stopped Asher for now, but his hounds still follow. I need to lead them away. Muddy the trail.”
He put out a hand, cupped her cheek. Regret saddened his eyes, and Ellery felt he wanted to tell her something.
Despite her earlier anger, she reached down, caressing the strong line of his jaw. His stubble roughed her fingers, and she thought he moved into her touch. Then the low hungry howl of the Keun Marow sounded from the moor-lands to the north.
Conor stepped back. Struck her horse hard on the rump. Shouted at her to go.
The horse plunged forward out of the stable yard. She turned its head south, rowling its flank with her heel, leaning into its neck. Against orders, she glanced back. One moment, Conor stood in the road. The next, he vanished.
“You better stay safe, you great lumpen bullock,” she whispered.
Chapter Thirteen
Clouds hid the moon, bringing with them a cold, spitting rain. Mud sucked at the tired horse’s legs, but Conor held it to the swollen stream bed. He’d not heard or felt the Keun Marow’s presence since midnight, but he’d take no chances. Now that Asher knew about Ellery’s existence, all he’d worked for up to this moment was thrown into jeopardy. He needed to keep her safe. And out of the way until Beltane. But being weak as a damned kitten wasn’t helping.
