Moonshadow (Moonshadow #1)(24)

As Gawain spoke, Nikolas kept his attention trained on her. He found himself reluctant to look away. The miniscule changes in her expression were fascinating.

Her eyelids lowered briefly. “I think I understand what you’re saying. I can feel it just sitting here with you.”

“Our enemies use that to hunt us. As we are not a strong enough force to defeat them, it keeps us from banding together for any length of time.”

Her attention turned sharp and piercing. She looked interested in their problem almost in spite of herself. “What if you throw a null spell? Won’t that dissipate the energy?”

Nikolas didn’t like how she focused solely on Gawain. He said abruptly, “Yes, but the effect only lasts for a few minutes.”

“Usually, my null spells don’t last long either.” She hesitated, then said slowly, almost reluctantly, “What if I told you I might have a way to hold the null spell in place for longer than a few minutes. Would you be interested?”

“Do you mean like an amulet?” Nikolas didn’t like the sound of that.

No magic user liked null spells in amulets or jewelry. Typically, only nonmagical creatures liked to use null spell jewelry for protection, and prisons used null spells in cells and handcuffs to contain dangerous, Powerful prisoners.

Null spell amulets also worked counter to the Daoine Sidhe purpose when they gathered to cast the invocation to contact Lyonesse. Handling null amulets hampered their ability to cast defensive and offensive spells and to detect dangers around them.

“No,” Sophie replied. “What I can do is not that permanent, and it’s easily negated. Would you be interested?”

Nikolas met Gawain’s eyes. He could see the other man was as intrigued as he was. Gawain said, “Even if you could, it would have limited application. Dampening our Power also means crippling our abilities and dulling our senses. It’s a dangerous proposition to consider.”

“True,” Sophie agreed. “It would really only achieve one thing—it would give you the ability to be together for longer than a few minutes without being detected.”

He glanced at Gawain again. They could have a real conversation, maybe share a meal together. The lure was so strong Nikolas pulled back emotionally from it. In a harsh voice, he said, “What’s the catch to this?”

Sophie’s slender black eyebrows rose. “As far as I can tell, there are two catches. You already know the first. It would hamper your ability to cast spells, at least until you rinsed the spell off, which is easy to do. The second is—you haven’t convinced me yet that I should do a goddamn thing for you.”

She held Robin on her lap protectively as she spoke, while she glared first at Nikolas then at Gawain, who replied with quiet courtesy, “You have every right to feel the way you do, after what just happened. What can we do to convince you?”

She compressed those luscious, sensual lips of hers. Then in a tight voice, she asked, “Did either of you have anything to do with a nasty spell I encountered while I was walking into town?” She looked at Gawain. “You know what I’m talking about. I saw you slow down on your bike and study the area where it landed.”

Gawain’s expression changed. “You were there when I was?”

“Yes.” She looked down at the creature in her lap. “Both—what is his name, Robin?—and I were.”

“I had no idea,” he murmured as if to himself. “I didn’t sense you at all.”

Her mouth quirked. “That’s because I didn’t want you to.”

She was cocky, Nikolas would give her that. Absently he twisted the signet ring on his ring finger while he listened to their exchange. Sophie’s attention dropped to the movement.

He told her abruptly, “The woman who created that spell is our mortal enemy. She’s the one who is trying to destroy us.”

For the first time, Sophie regarded him without anger or distaste. Gently she pulled one of the dog’s ears to the side, revealing its bony, blistered neck. She said, “That spell was woven into a broken silver rope tied around Robin’s neck.”

“Is that what happened?” Nikolas asked the puck. “Did the Queen imprison you?” The puck remained silent. “Robin? Why aren’t you speaking?”

The dog opened its mouth and showed him. In the recess where a tongue should be, there was only a stump.

Nikolas clenched his teeth. Gawain swore under his breath. Sophie blanched visibly while horror darkened her eyes. She whispered, “Earlier when I fell asleep, I dreamed about being in a cage while they tore out my tongue and threw it on a fire.”

Nikolas tried telepathy. Robin. Tell me what happened to you.

The puck gave no indication that he heard. Tilting his head back, he watched Sophie’s face unwaveringly, like the dog he appeared to be.

Aloud, Nikolas said, “He’s not talking telepathically either. I’m not even sure I connected with him.”

An odd expression crossed Sophie’s face, and a small, bitter smile twisted her lips. She murmured, “He’s nonverbal, possibly trauma induced. Hopefully he’ll recover his language as he heals. I’ve known it to happen.”

As they talked, Arran walked up to their table, carrying a tray. He looked at Nikolas. “Everyone else has been served, my lord, just as you requested. What can I bring you? Drinks and supper?”