Magic Undying (Dragon's Gift: The Seeker #1)(30)

“Harvey and Holly!” a voice boomed. “What have you found on the moor?”

I stepped into the warmth of the pub. My clothes were clinging wetly to my skin and my nose felt red as an apple, so the heat from the crackling fire felt amazing. The interior of the pub was all dark wood and heavy, antique furniture upholstered in faded red velvet. This place had probably been here for five hundred years.

A rotund barkeep draped in a white apron was grinning at the two dogs, who grinned right back, their tongues lolling. The man’s friendly gaze met mine. His gaze was the same pale shade of gray—almost white—as that of the men sitting in front of the fire.

“I see our local fairy dogs found you?” he said.

“Fairy dogs?” I took a seat at the bar closest to the fire.

My injuries were now making themselves apparent, and standing was no longer an option. My shoulder ached from where I’d landed on the hard stone when those medieval jerks had tossed me into the cell, and my burns were stinging.

“Aye. They live in the village with a human couple. But they let themselves out at night to roam the moor. They’ve got a bit of magic in them and like to dance with the fairies on the tors at night. They go between that world and this world. Been around as long as anyone can remember. Immortal, probably.”

“The humans know about this?” Humans knowing about magic was strictly against the rules.

“Not a clue, bless them. But Harvey and Holly seem to like them, so they stick close by. Except at night, when they go out and find stragglers such as yourself.”

“Lucky me.”

“You shouldn’t be wandering at night.”

“No kidding. Where am I, by the way?”

“Merrivale. West side of Dartmoor.”

Dartmoor, with my two Baskerville hounds. I was living in a novel.

“Can I get you a pint?”

I nodded. Might as well, if I had to wait for Cass and Nix to show up. And it might dull the pain of the burns. I eyed the taps, noting a selection of real ales popular in the region. Good. None of that wimpy stuff Cass drank.

“Anything is fine.”

While he poured me the pint, the dogs gave me one last look, then headed out into the night again.

“Thanks!” I called after them. I pushed aside my worry over Roarke and reached up to touch the comms charm at my neck. Time to get the heck out of here.

But before my fingertips made contact, the barkeep put the pint on the bar.

“Thanks.” I dug into my pocket for my slim wallet. This place was old, but I’d bet they took a card.

“First one’s on the house, if Holly and Harvey approved of you.”

“Thanks extra, then.” I grinned and took a sip. Warmer than American beer and a bit flatter, but lovely all the same. Though my fave was boxed wine, I was a beer snob at heart when I actually drank the stuff. The weirder and stronger, the better, and this fit the bill.

“Not a problem. Now you warm up. Do you need me to call you a lift?”

“I’ve got it, but thank you.”

He nodded and turned. I reached up to touch my comms charm, but the door swung open.

I turned to see Holly and Harvey trot in, leading a tall, wet man.

Roarke.

He was okay. Tension flowed out of my shoulders.

Which annoyed me. I shouldn’t like him.

I looked at the dogs instead of him. “I thought you were on my side, guys.”

They grinned at me.

“You found another one, eh?” the barkeep said. “That’s a record!”

The dogs gave a bark, then turned around to head out into the night, probably to dance with the fairies. I smiled after them, but it slipped from my face as I looked at Roarke.

He strode toward me, back in his human form with his hand pressed to his side and his gaze worried. He stopped in front of me and lifted his other hand to hover it near the burns on my face. He didn’t quite touch, but the so-close sensation made my heart race.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Fine.”

He lowered his hand. “Then what the hell was that? You disappeared.”

“He giving you trouble, lass?” the barkeep asked.

“Yeah, but it’s okay,” I said. “We’re pals.”

The barkeep nodded, satisfied, and turned to answer a call from the back of the pub.

Roarke huffed a small laugh. “Pals?”

“What would you call us?” I asked.

“Not pals.” His dark gaze met mine, and it definitely wasn’t cruel. It was… interested.

“Uh.” My mind scrambled, then righted itself. “What happened back there? Did you see what carried me away?”

He frowned. “It was a strange blue cloud. Wispy. There was a pattern to it, almost like scales.”

“But did it have a shape?”

“Not that I could see. Though it was hard to get a good look during the battle.”

So he hadn’t thought it looked like a dragon. Which made sense, because no one had seen a dragon in centuries. Cass had four dragonets who occasionally helped her, but they were the size of cats and made of magic, not flesh and blood. Entirely different.

“Whatever it was, it was weird,” I said.

“Part of the protection spell on the cavern, maybe?”