Moonshadow (Moonshadow #1)

Using the wheelbarrow Gawain had found in the shed behind the cottage, they transported things from the cottage to the manor house. They didn’t bother to sort everything in the great hall but stacked things in haphazardly to organize later.

They emptied out the kitchen—all the food, the dishes, pots and pans, the table and chairs, and even the dishwashing liquid. Sophie dragged her luggage across the lawn, while Nikolas swung the settee onto his back and jogged it over. Gawain followed shortly afterward with the armchair balanced on his shoulder while he tucked the sitting room table under one arm.

While Sophie cleaned out the linen closet—sheets, blankets, bedspreads, towels and washcloths, laundry soap and toilet paper—and dumped everything into the wheelbarrow, the men insisted on moving all the bedroom furniture as well, even the bed frame.

“You’re already giving up enough as it is,” Nikolas said over her protests. “The least we can do is make sure you get a comfortable bed to sleep in.”

Gawain even walked his Harley into the great hall. He said to Sophie, “The bike won’t work in the land magic, but at least no one can vandalize or disable it while it’s in the house, so we’ll have it available just in case.”

Straightening her aching back, she nodded. It was a good idea. “I only wish we could do the same with the Mini.”

At that, the two men paused to assess the small car and then look at each other. “If we get both the oak doors open, it might fit,” Nikolas said. “If we get enough momentum with the car, the engine will cut out when it gets close to the house, but it should coast close enough that we can push it the rest of the way.”

“Really, guys?” Sophie didn’t know whether to protest their effort or thank them.

“Yes, really,” Nikolas told her. “It’s a principle of siege warfare. You don’t leave anything out for your enemy to use, dismantle, or destroy, if you can possibly avoid it. The Porsche is going to be toast. It’s too big to fit through the doors, and sooner or later they’ll find it, but we can at least hope to save the Mini. And you never know. We might need it.”

His dark hair had fallen onto his brow with the expenditure of effort. He looked handsome, dangerous, and kissable all at once. Having sex in the bathroom might have turned into a debacle, but in spite of that, she had managed to fall even deeper in love with him. She was afraid she had gone well past the point of it being a bad, bad cold. This feeling was turning into a life-threatening, flu-strength illness.

Then she flipped over to a kind of cheerful, macabre train of thought. Oh, well, they probably weren’t going to survive the siege anyway. Because none of them were talking about what might come next, after they had been in the manor house for so long their supplies had run out, while they could very well discover that the broken crossover passageway magic was just that—broken pieces that lead nowhere.

They were throwing everything they had at a mere possibility. They would be blockading themselves into a dead end with no proof of an emergency exit.

We’re all insane, she thought. So I might as well enjoy loving him while I can, because it doesn’t make any less sense than anything else we’re doing.

In the meantime, she threw up her hands. “If you guys think you can fit it in through the doors, by all means. It’s only a rental, but I didn’t take out extra insurance for siege warfare and decimation caused by Hounds of the Light Court, so you’ll be saving me some money.”

Once they had cleared everything moveable out of the cottage, even the curtains, Sophie shooed the men outside.

She told them, “Don’t step back inside now. We might be preparing for a siege, but we can also work on some misdirection. For whatever good it does, I’m going to clean everything with as many household chemicals as I can. Hopefully by the time Robin and I are done, nobody will be able to pick up yours or Robin’s scents, either in the cottage or anywhere outside on the property. The storm might bring Hounds nosing around the property, but with any luck, if Morgan doesn’t find anything, he should go away again, right?”

“We can hope,” Nikolas said, giving her a dark look. “Unless Morgan gets information from another source.”

By the mystified look on Gawain’s face, Nikolas hadn’t had a chance to tell the other man what they had learned from her most recent vision.

Her shoulders drooped. “Well,” she said tiredly. “We’ll do everything we can, and then we’ll see how things play out.”

Gawain patted her back. “That’s all anyone ever can do.”

Pulling out an extra burst of energy through sheer will, she attacked the interior of the cottage. Through the kitchen window, she paused briefly to watch Nikolas and Gawain force the second oaken door open in the deepening twilight. Then Nikolas loped back across the lawn to start the Mini and drive it toward the open doorway.

Sure enough, within fifteen yards or so, the car’s engine died. It rolled a little farther, but the thick turf and the broken flagstones must have provided too much of a barrier, because it stopped well back from the doorway.

Nikolas leaped out, and Gawain joined him at the rear of the car. Together they pushed the Mini, seemingly without effort, into the house.

Mmm-hmm, that show of masculine strength wasn’t sexy in the slightest.

Sometimes she cracked herself up. She turned her attention back to cleaning the cottage. Basically, she threw bleach on everything that could take it and lemon floor polish on everything else. By the time she was finished, even she couldn’t handle the smells inside. Stacking the cleaning supplies outside the door, she backed out of the cottage and locked it.

When she turned around, she found Gawain striding toward her. By the hard, tight expression on his face, she could tell that Nikolas had finally talked to him.

He put an arm around her and squeezed her against his side tightly enough to make her grunt. “You’re going to be safe with us, lass,” he told her. “I swear it.”

Sighing, she let her head fall onto his shoulder as she slipped an arm around his waist. “I didn’t believe anything otherwise,” she told him.

“Good.” Unexpectedly, he turned his head to press a kiss against her forehead. “We’re all at sixes and sevens right now, but you should know—you matter to him. You matter a great deal. He has to work through some things, so he might not be able to tell you that himself. If it matters to you enough to do it, lass, try to give him some time, and hopefully he’ll work his way through the heaviest of it.”

At his words, the starch went out of her spine. She turned into him to give him a full-bodied hug. “Thank you for saying that, Gawain.”

He returned the hug and patted her back. “You matter to me too, you know. Have faith, stay the course. We’ll do right by you.”

“It’s okay,” she told him. “I don’t know the others, but I believe in you, and I believe in him. Whatever that means.”