Harlequin Nocturne May 2016 Box Set (48 page)

Tanzi wasn't prepared to play his games. “What do you want?”

“I think you know the answer to that question. I have a boat waiting to take you away with me.”

She shook her head. “No.” His perfectly shaped brows rose in surprise, but, before he could speak, she plunged on. “It is too late for your plan. I am carrying another man's child.”

Something darkened in the depths of Moncoya's eyes. She knew that look. It usually heralded a burst of temper. “Is this a lie? A pathetic attempt to get out of the marriage?”

She laughed. “If so, you will find me out in a little less than nine months' time.”

He took a step toward her, his lips white with fury. In the past, this was the point when she would have run from him. Instead, she stood her ground. If she was ever going to step out of the shadow of her fear of him, now was the time to do it. “Who is the father?”

“That is none of your business.”

“My sources tell me you took refuge with the Irish necromancer, Lorcan Malone. Tell me you have not stooped so low.”

Tanzi felt her temper flare and she welcomed it. She had never been brave enough to defy Moncoya, even verbally. Now, for the first time, as he dared to insult Lorcan, she saw him for what he was. An arrogant bully. A dangerous one, it was true, but she was ready to take him on. As she drew herself up to her full height, she saw something shift in Moncoya's expression. “Why did my mother leave you?”

For a moment, the question threw him off balance. Then Moncoya gave a mocking laugh. “You don't seriously think I would ever allow
any
woman to leave me, do you?”

“Stella did. She chose Cal instead of you.”

The laughter vanished from his eyes. “For now. The necromancer star will come to regret that decision.”

Tanzi swallowed the nervousness caused by the venom in his voice. “So if my mother didn't leave you, what did happen to her?” He regarded her in silence. “I know she didn't return to the Valkyrie as we always believed. She couldn't because she had disgraced herself by leaving them for you in the first place. Did you kill her?”

He shrugged. “She had a choice. Stay with me or face the consequences.”

“That's the same sort of choice you gave her when you kidnapped her and refused to let her return to the Valkyrie. She had to stay with you and submit to a forced marriage. She had nowhere else to go.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “You've been listening to stories about me.”

“Is it untrue? Are you telling me my mother was in love with you and that was the reason she was the first Valkyrie to defy Odin and betray their warrior code?”

He remained silent for a moment, regarding her from under lowered brows. His silence told her everything she needed to know. Her worst fears had been right all along. Tanzi had long ago stopped believing she and Vashti were the result of a loving relationship, but this was so much worse than anything she could have imagined. “You know nothing of such matters. A conversation about your mother is not what I came here for.”

“No, you came intending to bully me into returning with you so that you could force me into marriage with the devil.” Tanzi folded her arms across her chest. “Now I've told you that's not going to happen, you can leave.”

Moncoya regarded her speculatively. “I have an alternative proposition for you. One that gets you neatly out of the marriage contract and disposes of this inconvenient child at the same time.”

CHAPTER 21

W
ith Cal on board,
Igraine
flew across the waves faster than ever. Even so, they were not covering the miles quickly enough for Lorcan. Could he trust his instincts?
What if she hasn't gone to Spae?
Lorcan forced the thought away.
If she's not there, then I'll keep looking until I find her.
When the outline of the island came into view, he wanted to yell at Jethro, who was at the wheel, to speed up. Cal, sensing his mood, came to stand at his side.

“We're almost there.”

“What if Moncoya has already found her?”

Cal's eyes scanned the horizon, as though searching for some sign of his hated half brother. “From what I know of Tanzi, I'd say she's pretty fearless.”

Lorcan smiled reminiscently. “In most things, yes. But Moncoya terrifies her, and he's had his spies out looking for her ever since we left Barcelona. It was only your warding spells that kept her safe while she was with me.” They were approaching the bay now, and he pointed to the cluster of fishing boats bobbing on the waves. To one side of them there was a sleek yacht. It was unfamiliar and out of place among the simpler craft belonging to the Spae. “Unless I'm very much mistaken, I'd say that means Moncoya's already here.”

Waiting while they dropped anchor, got into the dinghy and reached the beach was pure agony. Once they reached the shore, Lorcan didn't wait for the others. He took off at a run along the path that took him in the direction of the village. When he arrived all was ominously quiet, and he paused on the green in the center of the houses, glancing around as he caught his breath. Was he too late? Had Moncoya already seized Tanzi and taken her somewhere else?

He was about to seek out Ailie and ask for her help, when he heard Tanzi's voice raised in protest. His heart rate kicked up another notch. Following the sound, he approached the cottage they had shared during their stay on the island.

“Never!” Tanzi's exclamation was filled with horror.

As he recognized the soft, coaxing tones that answered her, Lorcan froze, pressing his body against the cottage wall. “Think about it. The child you carry will mean nothing to you. A foolish mistake, an error of judgment. We all make them. It is the prerogative of royalty. When the time comes, hand the bastard hybrid over to me. Satan will be happy to accept it as a substitute for begetting a child with you, especially as this one is likely to inherit the necromancer's powers. You will be free to walk away from the pact I made. You can marry whom you choose. Prince Tibor is so smitten he will still take you, even though you can no longer offer him purity.”

Lorcan risked a glance through the open window. Tanzi was turned toward her father, her face pale with anger, her jaw rigid. Even across the distance that separated them he could see that her whole body was trembling, although he soon realized she was shaking with anger, not fear. She held one hand over her flat stomach in a protective gesture. “Listen to me, Moncoya—”

“You are my daughter. How dare you use my given name?” His voice was like a whiplash as he interrupted her.

“You lost the right to call me your daughter when you tried to sell me to the devil. Now, listen to me and listen good. This child is mine. Mine and Lorcan's.” She enunciated every syllable clearly. “He was conceived in love. And he will be loved. I wronged his father by sending him away, but I will do right by this child.” She drew in a breath. “And the very first thing I will do is make sure he has nothing to do with you and your evil schemes.”

The mocking note in Moncoya's voice became more pronounced. “You are a sidhe princess. You cannot feel love, and certainly not toward a common necromancer.”

“You are wrong. I love Lorcan Malone with all my heart. I always will. Through my foolish pride, I tossed aside any chance we had at a future. But Lorcan taught me how to love...and he is a better man than any prince or king will ever be.” No one hearing Tanzi in that moment could have doubted her ability to feel. Each word thrummed with raw emotion.

Deciding it was time to announce his presence, Lorcan strolled through the door. “Sure, couldn't you have said all of that back at Gladsheim instead of playing hard to get in such a spectacular way?”

He was sent staggering back several paces as Tanzi hurled herself into his arms. He caught her against his chest with one arm and managed to press a swift kiss onto the top of her head while keeping his eyes fixed on Moncoya. Even on his own, the faerie king was a dangerous opponent. Lorcan's powers of necromancy were useless against Moncoya. Faeries weren't dead, but they were vicious fighters and cunning as hell. They seemed to be hardwired to make up for their lack of inches by fighting dirty. Biting, kicking and gouging were all part of the sidhe repertoire. And Moncoya hadn't risen to the top through his tact and diplomacy. It was also hard to believe he had been arrogant enough to come to Spae alone. Lorcan fully expected a group of sidhe bodyguards to be lurking close by, just waiting to come to the boss's aid.
At least I've a couple of powerful allies of my own to call on.

“You will never get to call me father.” The familiar sneer was back on Moncoya's face.

“Too fucking right I won't.” The thought made Lorcan shudder. “I can't imagine anything worse. No matter how much I love your daughter, I don't see this ending with us all playing happy families.”

A footstep inside the door made him turn his head. “Sure, isn't that a shame?” The woman who entered the cottage had a pronounced Irish accent and a smile as wide as the Emerald Isle itself. “Just as I was looking forward to getting myself a new grandchild.”

“What the—?” Lorcan gasped for breath, unable to believe his eyes.

“Who is this?” Tanzi reached for his hand, clearly able to sense the waves of shock emanating from him.

“Aren't you going to introduce us, son?”

Lorcan shook his head in an attempt to clear it. “You can't be.” He glanced at Moncoya, who was leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. A smile played about his lips as he enjoyed the show. “You bastard. That's not my mother.”

“He's too good for us, Moncoya.” The voice changed, became familiar, even though he couldn't quite place the masculine tone while it was still coming from his mother's lips.

As he watched, the figure in front of him shimmered and changed. It was like watching a magician's illusion performed in double time. One second his mother stood before him, the next, her expression changed to one of fear and pain as flames engulfed her. Before he could move, the image had faded and Lorcan was staring into the face of the witch finder who had killed her. Under his horrified gaze, the witch finder changed to briefly become the tearstained face of Iphae, the murdered dryad. An instant later, Lorcan was looking at the smiling features of Iago.

The next moment Cal and Jethro erupted into the room with Vashti hard on their heels. “You are very welcome, my daughter, but this place really isn't big enough for any more of these muscular necromancers,” Moncoya drawled.

“Shall I shut him up?” Jethro's voice held a trace of longing as he cracked his knuckles.

No one answered. Everyone was staring at the small, bearded man at Moncoya's side.

“Have you figured out who I am yet?” Iago spoke directly to Cal.

“I know who you look like. But you can't be who I first thought you were.” Cal was gazing at Iago as if he'd seen a ghost. “Mordred died at the battle of Camlan.”

“Who is Mordred?” Tanzi whispered to Lorcan, twining her fingers more tightly with his. The tension in the room was so thick he felt he might choke on it.

“King Arthur's illegitimate son with Morgan le Fay.”

Tanzi wrinkled her brow in confusion. “I thought Morgan le Fay was King Arthur's sister?”

“It's complicated.”

“You are very certain that Mordred is dead.” Iago seemed to be enjoying himself now he was the center of attention.

“I should be.” Cal's expression was grim. “I killed him myself right after he injured Arthur.”

Iago's smile turned nasty. “At least you are not denying the rumor that you were my father's murderer.”

“Iago, of course. That's where I've heard the name. You are Mordred's son?”

Iago bowed slightly in acknowledgment. “I was raised by my grandmother Morgan le Fay and her half-sister Niniane—whom I think you know only too well—on the Isle of Avalon. Between them, they taught me everything they knew. In other words... I'm your worst nightmare, Merlin Caledonius.”

“Wasn't Morgan le Fay a faerie?” Tanzi whispered to Lorcan again.

“Faerie. Witch. Or the worst possible combination of both. Whatever Morgan was—or possibly still is—none of us, not even Cal, would want to mess with her. If your man there really is her grandson, I'm thinking we're all in big trouble.”

“You sort out the faerie, Cal. I'll take the new guy. Lorcan can have a rest and sit this one out.” Jethro was beginning to sound impatient.

“You must be Jethro de Loix.” Iago turned to him with a smile. “I heard you liked to talk yourself up. It's a shame we haven't got all four of Niniane's murderers here, so I can finish you all at once. But I don't imagine your little necromancer star will pose too many problems once I've dealt with the three of you.”

“Leave Stella out of this.” Cal's features hardened further.

“For God's sake, can we all stop talking now and get on with kicking the shit out of these two?” Lorcan made a move to grab Iago by his shirtfront.

To his surprise, the sorcerer sidestepped him. He hadn't imagined Iago would be particularly brave when it came to a physical confrontation, but after all that bluster, Lorcan thought he might at least attempt to fight back. What happened next was even more bizarre. Iago and Moncoya moved closer together in a choreographed movement, almost as if they were about to embrace or step into an old-fashioned dance. When they were facing each other only inches apart, both men extended their arms to shoulder height and began to spin wildly on the spot, moving so fast that they became a blur of motion.

“It's obviously a private thing. Let's give them a moment.” Jethro regarded the phenomenon in disgust.

Gradually, the spinning slowed and then stopped. When it did, they were faced by two identical, smiling Moncoya figures, both clad in the same burgundy-and-white clothing. “Hell. Now we don't know which evil bastard is which.” Cal ran a hand through his hair.

“Go for the face. The one who squeals like a girl is the real Moncoya,” Lorcan said.

“Ahem.” Tanzi gave him a you've-totally-said-the-wrong-thing look.

“Sorry.” He grinned apologetically. “The one who squeals like a faerie king with chipped nail polish is the real Moncoya.” Becoming serious, he lowered his voice. “Take Vashti to Ailie's cottage and keep her there. I want you out of this.” He hoped she'd understand the subtext, which was that he didn't want Vashti adding her strength to that of Moncoya and Iago.

She nodded. “Just be careful.”

“I will. Now I have you, I've too much to lose to be anything else.”

Cal waited until Tanzi had dragged a protesting Vashti out of the cottage. When he spoke again, his voice was as cold and hard as a steel shutter slamming down. “I don't care which one is which. I'm taking one or both of you back with me to stand trial.”

“Two against three.” One Moncoya grinned at the other. “I like those odds.”

“Make that five against two.” Raimo and Ronab sidled into the room and arranged themselves on each side of Lorcan. “When our master fights, we stand with him.”

“I didn't know you had yourself a couple of imps.” Jethro regarded Lorcan in surprise.

“Nor did I.” Lorcan's tone held a trace of weary resignation. “Welcome to the team anyway, guys.”

He was tired of waiting. With a practiced movement he knew Cal would follow, he lunged forward. He figured Iago would be the easiest target, and he knew Moncoya would fight dirty. But which was Iago? He took a chance, delivering a swift kick to the gut of one opponent while Cal brought his elbow up hard under the chin of the other. They both went down. Too easily.

Raimo and Ronab rushed forward. “It's a trick. Stay back,” Lorcan ordered, but the warning came too late.

There was a flurry of activity, during which one of the burgundy-clad figures vanished. The other lashed out with a lethal-looking blade, striking Ronab in the neck. The imp toppled forward, hitting the floor with a thud. The Moncoya figure sprang back, distaste spreading across his features as the imp's blood gushed over his white breeches.

“That's the real one.” Lorcan rushed him. “Take care of Iago.”

“We would if we could see the fucker,” Jethro called back.

Lorcan didn't have time to respond. He threw himself onto Moncoya, pinning the faerie king to the floor with his superior size and slamming his fist repeatedly into the other man's face. Moncoya writhed beneath him, but couldn't break free. All the fury and resentment that had been burning through him toward Moncoya for his treatment of Tanzi found an outlet now that he finally had Moncoya in his power, and Lorcan was only vaguely aware of what was happening around him.

Nearby Raimo was cradling Ronab's lifeless body in his arms while the other side of the room suddenly erupted into a maelstrom of violence and cursing. Lorcan paused, his arm suspended in the air on its way to Moncoya's face again as he assimilated what was happening. Cal and Jethro had found Iago. The sorcerer had transformed himself yet again, becoming a full-sized male tiger. He was tearing up the room in an attempt to get at Cal and Jethro, who were holding the table between them and using it as a makeshift shield.

Lorcan dealt a final blow to the faerie king, rendering him unconscious. “Raimo, get Moncoya out of here and lock him up. Make sure he can't go anywhere.”