Page 37 of Crown of Tides and Fury

“Fallon is fine. Annag is fine.”

“They’re home?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t move. Just stood there, leaning casually against the wood, though the wrong amount of weight against one shelf might cause a domino effect with the rest, which could destroy the place.

“Bring them back. I’m…begging you.”

“No.” His nostrils flared, but still he stayed where he was, as if he couldn’t trust himself not to throttle me.

My emotions and hormones joined forces and made me take a step toward him. I shook my head, telling myself not to move any closer, telling him I wouldn’t take another step.

But I did.

I gripped the back of the desk chair, made myself stop, told myself this was a cliff I didn’t want to jump off.

Griffon’s face changed, softened. He looked to the side and cursed. When he looked back, those arms opened, like wings—like the time at the park when I once ran to him.

“Shit.”

15

Osculation Interruptus

Okay. I wasn’t dumb enough to run and jump into his arms. I took my time and watched his face, to see if he broke. Maybe when I got within reach, he’d realize he could easily kill me, there on the second floor, with no one around. The shelves shielded the little area from the rest of the library. It might even take a day or two for someone to find me.

Maybe killing me then and there had been his plan all along. He just wanted to toy with me first. He could pick me up, break me in two, and leave my body for Flann and Brian to find…eventually.

But it wasn’t murder that I saw in his eyes, even when I was close enough to see little dots and splashes of yellow swimming in those green irises. And I hoped against hope that he needed to hold me as badly as I needed him to.

“Griffon.” I took the final step and put my hands around his middle. His arms enveloped me, pulled me tight against him. I relished every second, every breath that squeezed me tighter still. After a minute, I dared lift my face to him.

“They’re dead, aren’t they?” He meant his brother and sister.

No point lying. “I believe so.”

“I can’t forgive you,” he whispered. “Any of you. Don’t expect it.”

“I know. I don’t.”

He leaned down, slowly crushed his lips against mine—and the ground shifted. I leaned back, saw the walls of Engineering surrounding us.

“Shite!” Wickham was there pushing between us, separating us. He took a split second to throw me a dirty look before he popped out again, taking a confused Fae with him.

I filled my lungs and howled like a wounded animal. I ranted and railed for a good five minutes while I waited for Wickham to come back, so I could demand he return me to Griffon. But he didn’t. Apparently, he knew how dangerous wounded animals could be. Maybe the rest of the house knew it too, because no one came running to see what was wrong.

I started wondering how long I could stay there, waiting Wickham out--without food, water, or a bathroom—when I noticed Urban in the doorway.

“Wickham wants ye downstairs.”

I declined in the clearest terms, using as many forms of the f-word as possible and still make sense.

The Highlander started toward me. “Now means now, woman.”

I had a few personal suggestions for him as well. He wasn’t fazed.

In all our time together, I’d seen Urban move pretty fast. At Muirsglen and in Sweden, I’d seen him fight, I’d seen him kill. I’d seen him dodge lethal claws and dance away from sure death. And I’d seen him outrun his own wife when necessary. But I never expected him to catch me as fast as he did.

The room was large, open, empty. I thought he’d chase me around the perimeter a time or two before he caught up. But he feinted right, then flew left. Had his hands around my arms in two quick moves. I never stood a chance.

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