Just seeing her arm like that, knowing she’ll never be able to draw her bow again because of me…
Stop thinking about it. She’s here now and you’re going to fix it.I pushed open the gate to the orchard and darted across the castle grounds. Lights were still on in the library and the Great Hall, but the kitchen appeared dark.
I swung the kitchen door open and stumbled inside.
Made it. Now I just have to hide the empty jar and?—
“Blake?”
Ah, shite.
Maeve stood in the middle of the kitchen, wearing that same figure-hugging dress she’d been in all day. A light from a machine illuminated her face. The machine emitted loud popping sounds and shook so violently I thought it might fly off the counter.
“Hey, Princess.” I tried to keep my voice calm, hoping she couldn’t see my heart pounding against my ribcage. “You finally over your window guilt?”
“Not really, but I could do with a distraction. We decided to watch a movie together,” she said. “I was just making popcorn. Rowan doesn’t make it the way I like it. He’s far too stingy with the butter. Why were you outside? I thought you’d gone to bed.”
“I did, but then I couldn’t sleep and I went for a wee walk around the garden,” I said. “I’m still getting used to the whole concept of sleeping in a bed. A pile of leaves is more my style.”
“Do you have something in your hand?”
“What?” I jammed the jar into the waistband of my pants and showed her both my hands. “Nope, nothing. So if you were hoping for my cock, you must be bitterly disappointed.”
Maeve laughed. “Are you going to come watch with us?”
“I never miss a chance to learn more about my human heroes and their weird fascination with serial killers and loud explosions.”
“Cool, see you in there.” She grabbed the bowl and padded away.
Letting out a breath I didn't realize I’d been holding, I yanked the jar out of my pants and tossed it into the recycling bin, burying it under three empty HP sauce bottles so no one would notice it.
All in all, it had been a successful night. I dusted off my hands, ignoring the weird churning in my gut. Liah was here in the human realm where Daigh couldn’t hurt her. All I had to donow was keep her safe from the wrath of the witches until I could convince them to trust us both and I’d be golden.
How hard could that be?
CHAPTER THIRTY
FLYNN
Everything was buggered up.
Maeve was still shaking from what happened at the pub. Jane stewed silently, worried that Dora’s moral crusade would somehow stop Connor’s baptism. Something weird was going on between Rowan and Corbin – since it wasn’t the kiss, it was probably from their visit to Corbin’s parents, whom I guessed weren’t any bigger fans of Rowan than they’d been last time they’d seen him – and Arthur was even surlier than usual.
None of it would do. I was letting the team down, allowing so much despair and depression to take root in this house. It was gloomier than an Irish birthday party after the Guineass ran dry.
When it came to life skills to contribute to the coven, I was useless. I couldn’t beat up monsters like Arthur, or create a potion to soothe or forget like Rowan, or find answers in books like Corbin. I was an artist, and not a very successful one at that. But the one thing Icoulddo, the one thing I did better than anything else, the thing that had seen me through every shitty thing that had happened in my life, was the ability to make people laugh. And when someone was laughing, they don’t feel frightened or angry or sad. They’re not going to beat youup or hurt themselves. For a tiny fraction of a moment, they remembered that life was worth living.
That was my skill, and I needed to employ it, stat.
I decided that we needed a night off from all the witching. I forced everyone down to the Great Hall and shoved a Monty Python DVD into the machine. Rowan rustled around in the kitchen and returned with a tray of piping hot homemade pizza, a platter of biscuits, and a huge lemon meringue pie he’d somehow found the time to whip together this morning. Maeve made some popcorn that was so salty you could float across it into Israel and came back with Blake, who looked a bit sheepish as he sat down on a beanbag. Arthur popped open some cherry mead and apple cider, and we all settled in with our drinks and snacks.
Maeve slumped down in the middle of the couch. I fell over Arthur to sit beside her. Corbin slid down on the other side. He winked at me from across Maeve’s lap, bringing my mind back to what we’d done with Maeve on the couch before the ritual.
Mmmmm, maybe with the two of us here with her, something else will happen tonight.
I knew Maeve had slept with Corbin and Rowan. Unlike Arthur, it didn’t bother me in the slightest. It kind of made me feel relieved.
The truth was, I wanted Maeve to be with all the other guys, mostly because it made her happy, but also because I liked her a whole fecking lot and I knew I couldn’t give her what she needed on my own. Oh, I was a great and generous lover – all Irish men were – but when she looked at me, Maeve’s eyes burrowed into my soul, begging me for something more than sex, for some connection that tugged much deeper.
