Moonshadow (Moonshadow #1)(39)

Nikolas said, “Let’s hope this cell of Hounds didn’t have a chance to relay information up the chain of command.”

He didn’t sound very hopeful, and she didn’t blame him. It sounded too much like unrealistic optimism to her as well.

She limped into the destroyed room. Since she’d been planning to stay only for one night, she hadn’t unpacked very much, and the pieces of her sturdy Samsonite luggage had been knocked around, but at least they were intact. Picking through the mess, she collected the rest of her things—a cell phone charger, clean set of clothes for the morning, and her travel toiletry bag.

Straightening with an effort, she pressed a hand against her aching side and said breathlessly, “Okay, I’m ready.”

Nikolas had collected her suitcases. He waited by the door, watching her with an inscrutable expression. As she reached him, he picked up the luggage and led the way down the stairs.

Maggie greeted them down below. She held a cardboard box. Sophie caught a glimpse of tea bags, a bottle of milk, and a loaf of bread tucked inside, along with other items. Maggie said, “It’s not much, but it will get you started in the morning.”

“It’s terrific, thank you.” Sophie set her toiletry bag on top of the box and accepted it. “It was kind of you to think of this with so much else going on.”

“It’s the least I can do in return for what you did for us.” Maggie’s eyes glittered with wetness. “You not only saved my life, but Arran says you saved his too.” She turned to Nikolas. “Thank you, both of you.”

He didn’t appear to look uncomfortable at all, while Sophie was barely able to keep from blurting out the truth. She swallowed the impulse down. It wouldn’t do anybody any good, and the knowledge could possibly put them in more danger.

Instead, she said, “I’m sorry for the people you lost tonight.”

“It’s a hard blow,” Maggie said. “It’ll be hard for the whole town. They were good men just enjoying a bit of an after-hours card game, you see.”

“I do see,” Sophie said gently.

Maggie turned back to the shambles of her pub. As Sophie and Nikolas walked to the Mini, Sophie muttered between her teeth, “I want her dead for this.”

Nikolas said, “As do I, and mine.”





Chapter Eight





When they reached the Mini, they discovered the puck, still in the form of a monkey, waiting inside.

No doubt Robin found opposable thumbs more useful than dog paws. After setting the box and the luggage into the boot of the car, Nikolas stood back and watched Sophie drive away, then he walked down the side alley where he had parked his Porsche and followed.

He didn’t like how she had looked. Underneath the thorough dousing of blood, her skin had turned chalky, the freckles standing out in stark contrast, and the shadows underneath her spectacular eyes were as dark as bruises. She didn’t complain, but she moved like she was in pain, stiffly and off-balance.

He pulled into the property drive and parked beside the Mini. By the time he had switched off the engine, Sophie was already at the entrance of the cottage, unlocking the door by the light of her slim flashlight.

He pulled his go-bag out of the car and retrieved her luggage from the Mini’s boot. When he stepped inside an aged but comfortable-looking kitchen, she had turned on all the lights and stuck her head into a cupboard.

“There’s some way to turn on the water heater,” she said, her voice muffled. “The solicitor told me how to do it, but I don’t remember.”

“Sit down,” Nikolas ordered.

That made her emerge so she could glare at him. He could almost hear her say it: Thanks for asking, asshole.

“Seriously, sit,” he told her impatiently. “I’ll take care of the water heater.”

She must be feeling even worse than he thought, because she straightened to ease into one of the four chairs at the wooden, farm-style kitchen table.

He moved quickly through the cottage, taking stock. The rest of the furnishings looked as aged and comfortable as the kitchen. There was a musty, unused smell in the place and a slightly damp feeling.

The sitting room had a gas fire, and he paused to light it so it could chase the chill and the dampness out of the place. There was a minimally furnished bedroom with a bare mattress, a halfway-decent bath with a washer/dryer unit tucked in one corner, and the kitchen, which was actually the largest room in the cottage.

The refrigerator needed to be plugged in. After doing so, he set the bottle of milk in it and checked the contents of the box that Maggie had given them. There were eggs as well as bread, an orange and an apple, a package of cheese, and sugar for the tea, along with a few packets of guest soaps.

“You don’t have to stay,” she said.

He glanced at her. She sat with her forehead propped in one hand, and she looked as weary as anyone he had ever seen. “Yes, I do,” he told her. “There may be more Hounds on the hunt. I won’t have you getting hurt or killed, not when you can be of use to me.”

She laughed and immediately winced. “That’s breathtakingly callous, even for you.”

“So it is.” He had also regretted it as soon as he had said it, but he didn’t bother to apologize. Not only was it true, but he also didn’t think she would believe him if he did. Rummaging through the kitchen cupboards, he found and filled a teakettle and set it to warm on the stove. “In a half an hour or so, you’ll be able to take a comfortable shower, but in the meantime, there’ll be warm water here in a few minutes to wash up at the kitchen sink.”