Moonshadow (Moonshadow #1)(16)

Aloud, she told the dog, “I just want you to know, this conversation isn’t over.”

As she climbed to her feet, she sensed Power. Not the kind of magic that radiated from the ancient land. Not the kind of Power she’d sensed in the length of rope.

This was a strong concentration of personal Power. It traveled toward her with the speed of a bullet. At the same moment, she heard the deep mechanical growl of an approaching engine.

Instinct caused her to leap to her feet. Maybe that approaching Power was benevolent or at the very least indifferent.

Maybe it wasn’t.

She was in no shape for a possible confrontation with an unknown entity that held that kind of strength here, in an unknown land, especially without her Glock as backup. Striding off the pavement, she plunged into the thicket of brush bordering the road.

As branches of green foliage closed around her, she pulled the shadows around her like a cloak. Only then did she glance back at the way she had come.

The road curved gently with the land and was still visible where it followed the rise over the horizon. She could see her Mini, small in the distance, parked on the shoulder.

A figure on a motorcycle came over the rise. The sense of approaching Power grew stronger. Her muscles tightened as she watched it, straining for every detail.

The bike was a big one. Still too far away for her to say for sure, from the bulk and general shape, she guessed it was a Harley. The figure wore black jeans, boots, a black leather jacket, and a helmet with a faceless, featureless black front.

Tiny hairs at the back of her neck raised. It was clearly a masculine figure, with a large frame strong enough to control that massive bike, and the sulfurous Power it carried felt like a thunderclap.

It didn’t slow down or pause as it passed the Mini. Within moments it came to the area where she hid, still clutching the dog.

Then it slowed.

The deep roar of the motorcycle throttled down to a quiet growl as it slowly passed the spot where the magic rope had melted. As the figure on the bike came to where she had stepped off the road, that featureless black helmet turned left, then right. He looked as if he was searching for something.

The air felt compressed and sizzled with energy. If his Power had seemed like a thunderclap before, this close, the force of his presence bent the air around him.

Why had he slowed down? Was he looking for the dog?

Could he be Wyr? He couldn’t smell them, could he?

Sophie’s hands shook, and her heart plunged into a crazy race. She wasn’t ready to face combat again, not so soon and so unexpectedly.

Maybe he was not as he appeared. She whispered the null spell again, and for a brief moment the figure shimmered and changed.

She clocked details fast. The butt of a gun protruded from a holster aligned to the male’s long thigh. It could have been either a sawed-off shotgun, or maybe it was a semiautomatic. She didn’t know all the details of England’s license-to-carry laws, but this guy looked about as legal as a saber-toothed tiger.

And he had a sword strapped to his wide, powerful-looking back. The hilt lay positioned at one wide shoulder so he could reach behind his head and unsheathe it with a single hand.

A sword. The male she had seen in her vision had been carrying a bloodied sword. Was this the same guy? She couldn’t tell—he had virtually no identifying features visible—but the very thought made her break into a light sweat.

After a brief glimpse, his cloaking spell returned. Both gun and sword disappeared from sight.

What was he?

She couldn’t connect him to the man in her vision from the feel of his Power alone. Too much time had passed since she had made that first contact. She also didn’t find any similarity between his Power and the cruel enchantment that had laced the silvery rope, but she was on overload. All her internal systems flashed an emergency red, the primitive reaction blasting out of her hindbrain.

The motorcycle rider didn’t stop. Several yards on, his speed picked up again, and the dangerous, quiet purr turned into a mechanical roar once again. Within moments, he shot out of her sight.

She gave him a few minutes, to be sure he didn’t change his mind and turn around. Only then did she let go of the shadows she had pulled around her and stepped out of the brush.

An invisible fuselage of the rider’s presence hung in the air. Obeying an impulse, she gently set the dog on the ground and walked through that lingering trail of Power. For a fleeting moment, an intense, alien masculinity surrounded her, and she opened her senses wide to try to pull any information she could from it. Then it dissipated on a mild evening breeze.

Frustrated, she rubbed her tired face. As she looked over the ends of her fingers, the dog ambled up and vomited at her feet.

Together, they regarded the foamy puddle on the asphalt. When the dog looked up, she murmured, “I gave you too much water, too fast, didn’t I? Sorry, kiddo.”

She knelt, and he climbed back into her arms.

Within the space of a few moments, the dog was sound asleep. Stifling a groan, she hoisted her tired, aching body upright.

As she walked, she hugged him and whispered, “I’m going to make sure everything’s okay.”

And she only made promises she intended on keeping.

Although it did appear that her what the fuck list was growing at an exponential rate.





Chapter Four





Early in the evening, Nikolas’s mobile rang. When he checked the screen and saw Gawain’s name, he frowned. Phone calls were traceable by magical means, so they rarely talked, and when they did, they kept conversations brief.