Sophie. Sophie. Sophie. This. Is why. You don’t. Kiss assholes. He gives you another orgasm, and all of a sudden you’re in love with him. And somehow you both get naked, because that’s a really bright idea that never goes wrong, and then you start shouting at each other for no comprehensible reason.
After a moment, she set her clothes carefully aside and turned on the shower. She washed away all the evidence of what they had done together, dressed, and got back to work.
Her excuse was, apparently she had no sense.
And his excuse remained exactly what it had always been, inexplicable.
Chapter Sixteen
As evening fell into darkness, clouds amassed on the horizon, and the air grew damp and electric with the energy of impending rain. The puck had disappeared some time ago. Now that Sophie knew what his magic felt like, she could recognize his touch on the wind.
They were going to get a fine storm that night. For someone who was only partially recovered, Robin was exerting a tremendous amount of effort.
At first Sophie thought she would start shouting at Nikolas the moment she laid eyes on him again, but they had no more time to waste on personal issues.
The three of them ate a quick, cold supper. Nikolas slapped meat between two slices of bread and wolfed it down. Gawain ate beans out of the can while he stood at the kitchen counter. Sophie followed Nikolas’s example and ate as much of a sandwich as she could choke down past the nerves tightening her stomach.
“Robin might be able to wash away your scents with his storm,” Sophie said worriedly, “but he’s also exposing himself. If I can sense his magic on the wind, others will be able to as well.”
“If they’re still anywhere in the vicinity, they’ll be out searching for him.” Nikolas’s expression had turned grim. “We have to plan on it and tell the others to hurry. This night could turn ugly.”
Taking his warning to heart, she double-checked the spells she had painted on her arms earlier to make sure they were still viable, and she pulled the Glock out of the micro gun safe, inspected it quickly, and tucked it in the waistband of her jeans at the small of her back.
A gun tucked in the small of the back was not only uncomfortable, it was insecure. It could slip out her waistband in a struggle, and she would have preferred a proper holster, but she hadn’t brought one with her from the States and they hadn’t thought to give her one. She would just have to make do. Last, she slipped extra ammunition into each front pocket. She didn’t want to risk running into one of those monstrous Hounds without being prepared.
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.
After a moment, she set her clothes carefully aside and turned on the shower. She washed away all the evidence of what they had done together, dressed, and got back to work.
Her excuse was, apparently she had no sense.
And his excuse remained exactly what it had always been, inexplicable.
Chapter Sixteen
As evening fell into darkness, clouds amassed on the horizon, and the air grew damp and electric with the energy of impending rain. The puck had disappeared some time ago. Now that Sophie knew what his magic felt like, she could recognize his touch on the wind.
They were going to get a fine storm that night. For someone who was only partially recovered, Robin was exerting a tremendous amount of effort.
At first Sophie thought she would start shouting at Nikolas the moment she laid eyes on him again, but they had no more time to waste on personal issues.
The three of them ate a quick, cold supper. Nikolas slapped meat between two slices of bread and wolfed it down. Gawain ate beans out of the can while he stood at the kitchen counter. Sophie followed Nikolas’s example and ate as much of a sandwich as she could choke down past the nerves tightening her stomach.
“Robin might be able to wash away your scents with his storm,” Sophie said worriedly, “but he’s also exposing himself. If I can sense his magic on the wind, others will be able to as well.”
“If they’re still anywhere in the vicinity, they’ll be out searching for him.” Nikolas’s expression had turned grim. “We have to plan on it and tell the others to hurry. This night could turn ugly.”
Taking his warning to heart, she double-checked the spells she had painted on her arms earlier to make sure they were still viable, and she pulled the Glock out of the micro gun safe, inspected it quickly, and tucked it in the waistband of her jeans at the small of her back.
A gun tucked in the small of the back was not only uncomfortable, it was insecure. It could slip out her waistband in a struggle, and she would have preferred a proper holster, but she hadn’t brought one with her from the States and they hadn’t thought to give her one. She would just have to make do. Last, she slipped extra ammunition into each front pocket. She didn’t want to risk running into one of those monstrous Hounds without being prepared.
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.
