Spellbinder (Moonshadow #2)

“Oh?” She perked up. “How did that go?”

“It went nowhere. But I have a lot more to read.” He hesitated, then added, “There’s the possibility I might need to make a trip to Earth soon.”

“What? No!” The words burst out of her before she could stop them. Then she caught herself. How selfish she sounded. Biting her lip, she added reluctantly, “I mean I suppose if you have to go, you have to.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone, not here, not in this place,” he told her. “But there’s a book in the Louvre I should consult about the geas, and I need a few other essentials from Earth if I’m going to keep sneaking around here without getting caught. The Queen’s Hounds have highly sensitive noses, and the only way I can disguise my scent is by using a scent-blocking spray sold on Earth. I’m running low on my supply.”

Agh! Near to tears, she realized just how much she had grown to rely on him. The thought of facing the daily challenges in Avalon without him was almost crippling. “I understand.”

He gripped her hand so tightly it neared the point of pain. She felt the strength in his hand and the tension running through his long body.

“Sidonie,” he said deeply. “I really don’t want to go. I’ll try not to, but I may not have a choice.”

He had done so much for her, all while coping with his own injury, and here she was being a needy whiner. Swallowing hard, she injected strength into her voice. “It will be okay. I promise. But I’ll miss you.”

I’ll miss you so terribly. She clamped down on the words and didn’t say them.

He was silent for a long moment. Then he whispered, “Lie down with me.”

I would love to.

Her internal reaction had been so thunderously loud, for a moment, she didn’t know if she had said it aloud, if she had telepathized it, or if she had managed to keep it private. He didn’t react, so she must have kept it to herself.

Slowly, she eased down beside him, and he opened his arms to draw her closer. The bed was narrow enough, and he was so big she had to mold her body close to his in order for them both to fit. As she settled against him carefully to avoid jostling his injury, he let out a long sigh and guided her head onto his shoulder.

She slipped one leg over his, so the bowl of her pelvis fit closely next to his hip. The heavy weight of his muscled arms provided a sense of shelter and an anchoring that she couldn’t remember ever experiencing before.

All his warnings had trickled out of her mind. He had become her single point of safety, warmth, and security. Resting against him felt like she had come home for the first time in her life. She could not imagine how they could continue as they were, yet at the same time, she could not imagine not having him in her life.

Tucking one hand underneath the nape of his neck, she turned her face into his shirt. The comfort of lying beside him was staggering. She felt tension she’d had no idea she was carrying melt away, until her muscles felt loose and relaxed.

“God, this feels good,” he murmured.

Unable to verbalize the overwhelming strength of her emotions, she simply nodded. As she shifted to settle more comfortably against him, she felt again the bulk of bandage underneath his shirt.

Resting one hand lightly on it, she asked, “What happened here? I don’t think you ever told me.”

He turned his head so that his mouth rested on her forehead. “It’s a knife wound.”

“What?!” She jerked up her head. Despite her own growing acquaintance with violence over the past few weeks, she still hadn’t become accustomed to it. “That’s terrible. What happened?”

Chuckling slightly, he stroked the back of her head. “It’s okay. It’s self-inflicted. Sort of. I paid someone in London to stab me. Originally it was an arrow wound.”

Blinking several times, she muttered, “I-I just don’t know what to say.”

“It all goes back to the geas. I was wounded in battle earlier this summer.” His stroking hand wandered down to the tense spot between her shoulder blades. Gently, he massaged the area. “Isabeau was furious at the outcome, and she said she didn’t want to see me again until I was fully healed. The nature of the geas is such that I could take that literally. I disappeared before she could realize what she’d done and issue another order contradicting it. I couldn’t let the wound from the arrow heal completely. While I can’t harm myself, the geas didn’t stop me when I hired someone to stab me.”

He had been badly injured for weeks, yet he had still returned to Avalon to help her. Overcome, for a moment she wasn’t able to say anything. When she could, she whispered huskily, “I don’t like the idea of you being in so much pain.”

He touched her lips with his fingertips, in a featherlight caress. “This is the most freedom I’ve known in centuries,” he said. “I’m reveling in it. But in order to stay free, I can’t hear someone tell me if Isabeau has changed her mind and wants me back. Do you understand? Be very careful what you say to me of what you may overhear.”

What a deadly situation, when even words became as dangerous as weapons. She captured his wandering hand and gripped it tightly.

“I’ll be careful,” she promised. “I swear it.”

“I know you will, now that you know what’s at stake.” He squeezed her fingers.

“I’m surprised you told me about it.” A touch of wryness entered her voice. “It’s more information about you.”

“You needed to know. If I don’t find some way to break free of the geas, I’ll need to return to Isabeau in a few weeks, unless…”

“Unless, what?” she pressed, when he hesitated.

“Unless I can talk you into stabbing me next,” he said.

Hollow dismay spread through her middle. It had, unfortunately, become a familiar emotion. How would it feel to press a knife into someone she had grown to care for so deeply?

Someone she… loved? It was no use telling herself it would help keep him free, because trying to imagine the visceral reality of it turned her stomach.

“I-I don’t know if I could do it,” she whispered. “I’ve never hurt anyone in my life, not even in a good cause.”

“I understand,” he told her gently. “But, Sidonie, you may be the only one I trust enough to do it. Someone else could try to hurt me worse than necessary, or even try to kill me.”

He trusted her? That should give her a warm and fuzzy feeling, except for the reason they were discussing it in the first place.

As she tried to imagine someone else stabbing him, a horrified protectiveness surged up so strongly she said, “If you need it, I’ll do it. I don’t want you going to someone else for something so dangerous.”