Unhappily Ever After

Chapter 15 - Cursed and All

I wished I could take it back. I spent half of my time wanting to say things, and the other half regretting saying the things I had wanted to say. Especially this. Keeping secrets was exhausting, but I'd come to the mainland to escape my name, so I could just be Joe or Doug and pull strings without anybody watching my fingers. So much for that.

The hole in my abdomen had scabbed over long before we reached the castle. That's where we were going. Tom was driving again, and he'd set a course for Dafydd's camp, but that was far too obvious. I'd persuaded him to turn west through the link, arguing the case that it was nearer to Vik Lloyd, and we'd be needing him soon — and besides, she was my hostage. Mine, not Dafydd's.

"Dad," Eira sighed as the lorry came to a stop. It was all she needed to say, really, although we got a collection of odd looks from Mort and Lee.

"You have a dad?" the latter demanded.

"Doesn't everyone?" I retorted.

"Well, I don't know. I thought maybe Llewellyns appeared fully-formed in bolts of lightning."

I snorted in derision. "Did you now?"

"Ric," Eira said, more insistently. "Dad."

Ah, why did this have to be so difficult? I'd need to find somewhere else for Dad to stay, and it would have to be both close and far away. I looked at the faces around me and sighed. "Alright, yes, Eira, I'll deal with it. For now, everyone will have to stay away from the castle."

A dozen startled faces turned towards us at the word 'castle.' I had not told any of them, I realised, that we weren't making a beeline for Dafydd. Oops?

Lee made a groaning sound like a dying seal. "We're ... at Lle o Dristwch ...?"

I shrugged.

"Why?"

"Because I live here," I told him and grinned at the dismay on his face. Cursed my ass. Nothing awful had happened to me since entering the damn place. Well, nothing awful that wasn't my own fault. "What's supposed to happen, anyway?"

He heaved a sigh, slouching against the side of the lorry. "You die young. Not young young. Just younger than you would have. And it'll be bloody and painful and just not the death a person would want—"

Light cut into the lorry, blinding us all. Tom had opened one of the doors and glowered at us all, his eyes picking out me and Kat from all the bloodstained rogues. He folded his arms. "I would like a word, Rhodric."

"Gauze," I said. Even Eira's face twisted into a scowl, and I'd thought she knew all my tricks. Kat seemed to be trying to make herself as small as possible.

Tom's knuckles were whitening on the door handle. "What?"

"There's your word. Gauze. We'll be needing bandages, too. Needles, thread, antiseptic, tweezers — the works. I'm sure Vik will have some, and you'd get to see your sister."

I was simply not in the mood to answer questions about Kat. Once Tom had run the errand, cooled his heels and wiped that scowl from his face, maybe we would have a civilised discussion about what I had done at Lowland. Several of the shifters between me and Tom flinched. Too late, I realised I had handed out an order. And my wolf was seeping a challenge along with it.

"You want me to go and get med supplies from Vik?" Tom asked tonelessly. I didn't miss the slight dip of his head, the slackening of his stance. He had no reason to submit to me, because I had never fought him, but he was doing it anyway. Why?

I wanted to say no. But thirty rogues were watching us, and my wolf wasn't going away quietly. Can't back down now. Dammit, dammit, dammit. "You're the only one who can drive this thing. Some of these men will die if they don't get help. So, yes, Tom, that is what I want, and I can't see why you wouldn't want it too."