‘You aren’t telling me something.’
He leaned back against the car, deflated, broken, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground. His shoulders slumped down and for a moment she thought he’d just slide down into the dirt. ‘Ididn’tbelieve in it. I did as a child, but it’s been a long time since then. I thought my great-aunt was going senile. I came back here to move her to a home, if that was what it was going to take. I may not have wanted to, but that was what I expected. I…I didn’t want it to be true. Ari?’ He looked up, his expression pleading with her. No, not just with her. With life, with destiny, with everything. ‘I know what I saw last night. Ankou is the harbinger of death, his servant. He takes the form of someone who dies before their time – by drowning or suicide or murder. Or they become the Ankou. It’s old magic, as old as time. There’s a local tale that Ankou and Dahut were lovers once, that he taught her magic and gave her the mask. But I know what seeing him means for us. And after that…it changes everything. I will do whatever it takes, even throw my lot in with your brother and his schemes. My great-aunt believes that we can break the curse by finding Ys, by saving it from slipping into half-remembered myths. I cannot take the risk that it is all true, that I will die within a month, like my father and all those who went before me. I cannot let it happen. Because if this curse takes me as well… Ari, I have a son. And if it takes me, he will be next.’
CHAPTERTWELVE
In the end, Ari fell back on centuries of well-known Irish tradition which dictated what to do in a crisis and made a large pot of tea. Rafael paced the kitchen while she worked, but eventually gave up and sat down at the table. The same table they had sat at last night. Where Jason had shown him the mask.
He wondered where it was now. Off to Brest with Ari’s brother, he supposed. Being prodded and poked, locked away. Probably for the best. The thought of it on Ankou’s face made him shudder. But when he’d removed it to reveal Simon Poullain, that was far worse.
Ari slid a mug in front of him, strong, brown, builder’s tea, they called it. He recalled his mother turning her nose up at the idea of it: ‘They have no idea how to make thé properly on those islands. They think they do, but really…’ He winced as he tasted it, but he drank it all the same. Strangely, it helped.
‘So you have a son,’ she said at last. ‘And now you believe the curse is true, so you need to protect him.’
‘Yes.’ There didn’t seem to be much more to say than that.
She nodded, drank her own tea and picked her question carefully. ‘Where is he?’
‘With his mother. I phoned her last night to check on him. He was fine. Sleeping. He’s only three. She wasn’t impressed. But I couldn’t tell her why I needed to know.’
That was why he had left so abruptly with Nico last night, unable to find the words to explain it to her there and then. He’d wanted to get home, somewhere private, so he could phone and check on his son. And Elena had thought he was crazy. ‘Of course he’s OK. He’s sleeping. He’s worn out, the poor love. He had a busy day. What on earth has gotten into you?’
He became aware that he had clenched his hands into fists again and purposefully uncurled them, stretching out his fingers.
‘Finish the tea,’ Ari told him calmly, watching his every move. ‘You haven’t bought her off then.’
That was like a slap to the face. He glared at her sharply. ‘I’m not a monster.’
Ari just raised her eyebrows at him, her meaning perfectly clear. She still thought he had tried to buy her cooperation. Damn, he had mishandled that like an amateur. He’d have to explain…somehow…
But ‘I saw you save me in my dream’ didn’t seem like the kind of explanation she would accept. Especially not now. Nor would ‘Your late fiancé is death incarnate’ work either. No wonder everyone thought his great-aunt was losing her mind. They would say the same thing about him soon enough.
He sighed, turning his thoughts instead to Elena and how she would laugh at the thought of him attempting to buy her off: ‘Pocket money, Rafael,chéri.’He raked his hand through his hair, pushing it back against his skull. His mother always told him he’d make himself bald. He knew he did that when he was stressed. Looking at Ari Walker, still watching him with those blue eyes, she knew that too. She was intuitive, clever. She watched people.
‘Elena’s family has more money than God. She’d laugh in my face if I tried. Besides, we have an understanding, and an excellent custody agreement. We’re good friends and Elena is a devoted mother.’
‘You didn’t marry her? I thought families like yours—’
It was his turn to give her a quizzical look. This should be good. ‘Like mine?’
She looked away, uncomfortable to be caught in an assumption. Or in the thought of him marrying. Interesting. ‘Aristocracy is all about marriage and money, isn’t it? Business empires even more so.’
He grinned. He couldn’t help it. The simmer of annoyance in her face only amused him further. ‘Well, I imagine Elena’swifemight have something to say about that.’
‘Oh,’ she replied. And drank her tea again. But then a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. Acceptance. Less anger now. She lifted a sardonic eyebrow. ‘How very French of you.’
He fixed her with his great-aunt’s glare. Or at least his best approximation of it. ‘I’ll have you know, I’m Breton to the core.’
She laughed this time, enjoying the ridiculous nature of the conversation, and suddenly Rafael felt more comfortable sharing this secret with her. There were precious few others who knew and he wanted to keep it that way.
‘So your son lives with Elena and her wife and you see him on holidays?’
‘Something like that. They’re in Tuscany at the moment, so that does make it a little more difficult. But we’re working it out. Elena came up with the proposition and I thought…I don’t know. She’s a friend. I haven’t shared it with my family. Can you imagine?’
She clearly couldn’t, but he could. His mother alone would be a nightmare. The corporate lawyers she would drag in, the paternity tests, the legal knots she’d get them into, not to mention the trouble she would cause with Elena and the knock-on effects with her family… He suppressed a shudder.
And yet he could tell Ari Walker as easily as opening his mouth.
‘And you believe in your family curse now? Because you have a son.’
