7

STANDING IN THE MIDDLE of the living room, Bann ran a hand down his face. Guilt burned like acid in his gut. The look of shock on Cor’s face when Bann had swatted his butt kept looping through his head. He could count on one hand, minus the thumb and little finger, the number of times he’d had to use hand-to-ass discipline with the boy, including this one. Damn, but he can be stubborn. His mouth twisted in derision. Hello, pot? The kettle is calling for you, person-to-person.

A deep rumble made him glance at the window. Thunder announced the coming storm. Bann blew out a breath in frustration. The desire to be on the road, driving hard, putting as many miles as possible between them and that monster, ate at him. As if knowing it would just make things worse, rain began drumming on the roof. He glared up at the ceiling. Bleedin’ hell. And the camper with its busted windows.

Cor appeared, his face a mirror to the storm outside. Shay was right behind him. She headed toward the front door and snagged her keys off the table. “Let me move my car and you can back the camper into the garage. It’s a double, so you should have plenty of room to work on it in there.”

“Wait.” Digging into his pocket for his own keys, Bann slipped around Shay and opened the door before she could. He peered out, scanning the yard and street.

Shay crowded next to him. “I thought you said we were safe here,” she said in a low voice.

“I did, but…” He glanced back at Cor sulking by the fireplace.

“…but one never knows with gods. Especially the batshit crazy ones. And now would not be a good time to see if the wards will really keep him out.”

“It would not.”

“I’ve an idea, then. Max. Come.” She swung the door wider as the dog trotted over. He waited by her knees, dancing from paw to paw in anticipation. “Show ‘em what you can do, big guy.” She gave him an affectionate thump on the ribs, then pointed toward the yard. “Max. Guard,” she said in a clear voice. “Guard.”

Bann watched as the dog bounded out and stood a few feet away, looking back over a shoulder. Shay called out another encouragement. The dog gave a wag, then trotted down the driveway and disappeared behind Shay’s SUV.

“I taught him to guard against goblins,” she whispered. “Since he can hear and smell those uglies, I’m hoping he can pick up on shapeshifters, too.”

“Clever. Do you get many Amandán around here?” He frowned at her sudden grin. “What?”

“I haven’t heard that term for years. Amandán. We just call them goblins. But to answer your questions, no, hardly any. Their territory is closer to the foothills and up into the mountains.”

“Is that why you live here?”

“Yeah. I’m too busy to do much goblin hunting. Although like most Tuatha Dé Danaan, my family’s pretty fanatical about it. I’ve got a pair of cousins who hunt almost daily.”

As did I, he thought. For a moment, the lure of the chase sang through him. To hunt instead of being hunted.

A long minute passed. Then another.

“Perhaps I should—” Bann began.

At that moment, Max came trotting back. Rain darkened his coat. He shook himself violently, starting with the tip of his nose and working his way in a cascading effect to the end of his tail. Beauty regime complete, he gave a short woof, as if to say all clear.

As Shay hurried to her car, Bann ran over to his truck, slipping a bit on the wet grass and mud. He climbed in and started it, then pulled out into the street. The rain picked up, pounding on the roof. Backing in with extra care so as not to hit Shay’s house, he managed to tuck the camper inside the spacious garage. He climbed out to unhitch only to discover Cor already there, loosening the safety chain. The dog hovered nearby. Bann noticed the dog’s head was up, nose sniffing the air and ears swiveling around. On guard. Joining his son, he paused to pat the damp fur. “Gle mhaith, Max.”

The rest of the morning was spent repairing the broken windows, after the two obligatory trips to the hardware store. “Once to get what you think you need, and the second to get what you really need,” he explained to Cor. With his son’s help, he finished replacing the panes, the shared labor helping ease their earlier spat. Shay had left to run an errand after extracting a promise from Bann that he wouldn’t leave until she returned. He grinned when he recalled her forcing her cell phone number on him. Just in case. “Call me if you decide to leave early,” she had said. “Or call me if you think of something I could pick up for you while I’m out.” He had handed the folded piece of paper to Cor, who had shoved in his back pocket.

Windows finished, Bann handed Cor a pair of leather work gloves. “Climb inside and sweep up the broken glass. Wear these so you don’t cut your hands picking up the larger pieces.”

While Cor swept, using a whisk broom and dustpan they’d borrowed from Shay, Bann tackled the door. He hammered out the dents, then filled the holes with liquid silicone followed by duct tape.

As they worked, Bann noticed Max sitting just inside the garage, gazing out at the falling rain. Once in a while, he would patrol, making a loop around the outside of the house, each time coming back wetter and muddier than before. The region’s red soil looked like dried blood on the dog’s legs.

“Okay, all done.” Cor’s voice called from inside the camper. “Can I open the door now?”

“No. I’ve decided to just leave you in there the rest of your life.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’ll toss in a few sandwiches now and again.” Bann squatted down next to his tool box. The clang of tools hitting the metal crate drowned out Cor’s protests. He shut the lid, slid it to one side so it wouldn’t trip anyone, then rose.

“What if I need to pee?”

“Use the window.”

“Daaad!” The boyish giggle was a balm to the father’s soul.

“No? Well, all right, then. Come along.”

Pushing the door open, Cor jumped out and made a beeline for Max. The dog leaped up in greeting. Discovering a rope chew toy in the corner, boy and dog began a tug-of-war game. Bann chuckled when a violent jerk of the dog’s head almost pulled Cor off his feet.

You could settle here in High Springs. Make a new life for yourselves.

Bann blinked as Shay’s earlier comment wafted through his head. Where the hell did that come from? An odd tingling tightened his scalp. Maybe it was seeing Cor playing with the dog. Or the steady drizzle, which reminded him of back East. Or not having to be on his guard every bleedin’ second of every bleedin’ day for the first time in a year.

Whatever it was, Bann felt as if a scab that had covered his entire body, his entire soul, had cracked, leaving him raw underneath.

At that moment, a late-model truck, tricked out with a duke’s ransom in chrome, rumbled into the driveway and parked at the bottom of it. A man, about the same height as Bann but heavier and with a barrel-chested build, climbed out. He strolled toward them, heedless of the rain dampening his mane of red hair and beard. Bann vaguely recalled seeing him in one of Shay’s photos.

“Good morning,” the man called. “A fine bit of weather we’re having, eh?”

“It is.”

“Hugh Doyle,” declared the man, stepping out of the rain. “One of Shay’s uncles.” He held out a hand. “She called me and asked if I would come by and help with your rig.”

“Bannerman Boru.” His eyes flicked to the man’s neck as they shook.

“My torc is in the truck.” Hugh’s voice carried the faint brogue of home. “Shay explained to me about the lad.”

“My thanks. Cor.” Bann whistled the boy over. “Son, this is Hugh Doyle, Shay’s uncle. Hugh Doyle, my son, Cormac.”

“Hi.” The boy shook the older Knight’s hand.

“A strong grip you have, Cor Boru.” Hugh smiled down at the boy, who grinned back. “And this one I already know.” He patted Max, who had come over to greet him with a frenzy of tail-wagging. “A veritable prince of dogs.” Max wagged harder, agreeing with the Knight.

“Go finish your game, you two.” Bann waved them away. He waited until they disappeared around the far side of the camper, then spoke quietly. “What else did she say about us?”

“Aye, she told me.” Wonder lit up his face. “The long-son of the Boru. Here in Colorado and after all these years.”

Bann shifted, uncomfortable. “Did she also explain how we came to be here? And that, because of me, she is in danger as well?”

“She did. Although she spoke lightly of the being-in-danger part. In the true Doyle fashion, don’t you know.” He paused, then softened his tone. “My condolences for the loss of your wife. And for your son’s loss, as well.”

“Thank you.”

The Knight glanced past Bann to the camper. “Shay also said you were determined to leave as soon as you can.”

“I am. I will not put others at risk. It’s best Cor and I move on.”

Hugh reached up to finger a torc that wasn’t there. “Are you so sure?”

“Sorry?”

“Are you so sure it’s what is best for you and the boyo?” Before Bann could argue, Hugh raised a hand. “Do not paint all of our people by the same brush. While there are some in our clan, as well as other clans in High Springs, who will blame you for drawing that monster into our midst, you should know a number of us will aid you in this fight, Bannerman Boru.”

Bann’s mouth opened and closed. “Why?” he finally blurted out.

Hugh blinked in surprise. “Why, because you are the long-son of our High King. But more than that, you and the lad are Tuatha Dé Danaan. And you need our aid.” He chuckled when Bann started to protest. “Oh, Shay was right about you. You’re a stubborn one, to be sure.”

Feeling like the world was shifting under his feet, Bann took a step away. Behind him, the voice of his son laughing as he lost another round of tug-of-war to his new best friend rang through the garage. He turned and faced the older man.

“He will slaughter anyone who helps me.”

“Aye, he will try.”

“There is no way to destroy him.”

Hugh shrugged. “Any creature can be destroyed, given the right knowledge and the right weapon. We simply need to find both.”

Bann tried a different tactic. “I have little money, except for the monthly stipend distributed to all Tuatha Dé Danaan from our people’s reserves.”

“As do most of us.” Hugh looked Bann up and down. “You seem hale enough to find honest labor.”

Bann dragged the back of his hand along his jaw. A chain that had been bound around his chest loosened. “Well, I cannot stay here. He is certain to attack, maybe even tonight.”

“Shay said you would say that. And she pointed out that by knowing where he might strike, we’ve a better chance at guarding against him and perhaps even killing him.”

“You would use her as bait?”

“Oh, aye.” Hugh beamed, pleased Bann had caught on so quickly. “Clever, eh?”

“Look, Hugh—”

“We’ll have a fair number here all night.” Hugh snapped his fingers. “Which reminds me—I’m in charge of drinks. Shay’s taking care of the food even now.”

“You make it sound like a party.”

“Aye, it should be a right proper hooley.” He clapped Bann on the shoulder. “I’ll see you this evening, then.” With a grin and a nod, he hurried back down the driveway.

Mind reeling, Bann stood in the doorway, staring as Hugh drove away. Possible scenarios, some he hadn’t allowed himself to even dream about for a year, flew back and forth inside his skull.

Surrender had never felt so good.

He glanced down when Cor walked over and joined him, leaning a shoulder against Bann’s hip. Max took a seat at Cor’s feet.

“What’s going on, Dad?”

Bann looped an arm around his son. “I have something to tell you, Cormac Boru.”