Moonshadow (Moonshadow #1)(26)

“Damn. Okay.” Gawain blew out a breath as he rubbed the back of his neck. “If she was involved in the attack, she might try to make a run for it.”

“We’ll know if she tries to leave,” Nikolas said. “And I’m sure she has figured that out.”

A pause, as they both listened to the normal sounds in the pub, and Nikolas listened with more than just his ears. He could sense her presence above them, on the second floor, and hear her light, decisive footsteps.

“I don’t think she’s going to try to leave,” Gawain said suddenly. “She’s become too immersed in what’s happening. And she wouldn’t let go of the dog when she thought we might want to hurt it. That doesn’t sound like someone who would cast a blanket of fog to cover up a murder.”

“No, it doesn’t, does it?” Nikolas murmured. He tilted his head. “She wouldn’t even put Robin down just now when he didn’t want her to leave him.”

He still didn’t like how she had shown up at the same time Robin had reappeared, but that could have been a coincidence. What had happened a fortnight ago could have been a coincidence too—but that was a hell of a lot of coincidence. It made him uneasy.

In any case, he had to give credit where credit was due. She might be irritating and mouthy, and she seemed to embody more than one contradiction, but she also appeared to have a streak of genuine kindness.

The woman might end up having more soul than he did.

*

“What I wouldn’t give for my Glock,” Sophie said under her breath to the dog who wasn’t a dog riding in the curve of her arm. To the puck. Whatever a puck was. “You have no idea. I know a gun isn’t the answer to everything. I know I have many other skills I can rely upon, but a gun is ready, you see, when spells might not be. It can lie under your pillow while you sleep, standing sentinel as you dream, all the bullets nicely nested and just waiting to be fired.”

Robin blinked up at her, looking as if he was trying to comprehend what she was saying. Really, he was playing the dog very well.

She muttered, “I know it’s not attractive to constantly complain about something you can do nothing about, but as long as you’re riding with me, I guess you’re going to have to put up with it.”

While she talked, she unlocked the door to her room, opened her bigger suitcase, and rummaged through the contents until she found the correct royal blue, stoppered bottle along with the small, thin brush she had attached to it with a rubber band. After locking her room again, she loped down the stairs.

Ignoring the sidelong looks from the patrons they’d not yet managed to scare off, she crossed the front room quickly to slide back into her seat. The two men had been conversing in low voices. As she joined them, they sat back and turned their attention to her.

Gawain was the one she trusted so far, at least to some extent. He was the one who made an effort to be decent, whereas Nikolas might have sheathed his physical weapon, but he had never fully put away his blade.

Nikolas watched her now, his dark eyes cold and assessing. He had an utterly beautiful, completely mesmerizing face that was ruined with the edge of malice that was never far from his expression.

At least it wasn’t very far whenever he looked at her. When he turned his attention to Gawain, something much warmer and truer appeared, like the glimpse of a golden city concealed behind a midnight curtain.

It made her heart heavy in a way she didn’t understand, that the one part of the man could be so filled with rancor, while the other part, the barely glimpsed part, was so… so…

So fine. There was a fineness to him, or there could be, if the chilling ferocity eased up and gave the other side of him a chance to breathe.

Well. What she felt or thought about this deadly stranger didn’t matter in the slightest to anyone except for her. Shoving her ruminations aside, she smiled at Gawain. It said something about a man when a saber-toothed tiger was the safer, kinder bet.

Noting the fascinated look on Gawain’s face, she held out the bottle for him to inspect. “Colloidal silver. You know what that is, right?”

Shaking his head, Gawain opened the bottle and pulled out the stopper to sniff at it. He squeezed a few drops onto the tip of one blunt finger, then stopped the bottle and handed it over to Nikolas, who inspected it just as thoroughly.

While they ascertained for themselves that the liquid in the bottle was essentially harmless—at least in its inert state—she said, “Colloidal silver is a simple concoction of silver particles in demineralized water. Some people take it as a supplement for health reasons. I have no idea if it does them any good. A lot of sites, like the National Institutes of Health, have a list of serious side effects that can occur if you take it regularly as an oral supplement. At least for humans.”

Just as Gawain had, Nikolas took a few drops on his finger and tasted it cautiously. “You said this is made with magic-sensitive silver.”

“That’s right. At the moment, the liquid is neutral, like a blank page.” She smiled at Gawain. “Ready?”

“Ready when you are.”

“Give me your hand.”

Obligingly, he held his hand across the table. Settling Robin in her lap, she urged Gawain to turn his hand over so that the broad back was upright.

“I’ll go slowly,” she told him. “If you’re uncomfortable and you want me to stop at any time, all you have to do is say so. And remember, the only thing you have to do to get rid of this particular spell is splash it with some kind of liquid and rub it off. Okay?”