Heir of the Dog Black Dog - Hailey Edwards Page 0,56
den isn’t too far from here.”
My gaze lifted to peg the back of his head. “You mean you’ve never been?”
“He doesn’t welcome visitors.” He glanced back. “He avoids favoring either side by befriending neither. Or so the rumors say.” He kept moving. “It’s said loneliness is what drove him to the mortal realm, where he could take a lover who wouldn’t compromise his honor, and there he met your mother.”
A sliver of apprehension worked its way under my skin. Black Dog was legendary. He was also critical to maintaining balance in Faerie, so his exploits would make for juicy gossip at court. People—especially fae—loved hearing their peers were as flawed as they were. It validated their choices and made them feel better about all the naughty things they did and hoped remained a secret.
But Rook was so well versed, it brought all my doubts bubbling to the surface. Not that it did me any good. He was my lifeline, even if I wasn’t sure where he was anchored.
I finger combed my hair and freshened my braid. “How long do you think before the púcas break the news?”
“Not long.” Tension hung around his shoulders. “It’s not much farther now.”
Resolved to see this through, I let him guide me while I noted landmarks in case I needed to find my way back out alone. My nose also made critical notations. The air went from crisp and clear to smelling of pungent markers that reeked of warning. Urine. Buckets of it. Some of it old, but most of it fresh.
Nice, Dad. Real nice.
Sneezing, I wiped my tickling nose. “What types of predators are in the area?”
He laughed. Out loud. At me.
“Dumb question,” I allowed. “I smell two distinct scent markers. One is fresher than the other.”
Rook stopped and scanned the area. “Your father?”
“I don’t think so.” I rubbed my nose. “It almost reminds me of...”
“Get down,” he snapped.
My hand shot to my glove, lips moving on my Word. Rook sank his shoulder into my gut, tackling me to the ground as a fluorescent-yellow blur bolted past.
While I lay panting underneath him, an earsplitting roar had me yanking my hand free of my glove and powering up my runes. Rook’s eyes narrowed beyond me. I tilted my head back and, in the upside-down world, spotted a fluorescent-yellow panther-like thing. Its color hurt my sensitive eyes, but not as much as its saber teeth would if I let it get hold of me. I bucked my hips to unseat Rook, but I was stuck until he let me go.
His immunity to my primary defense mechanism was a pain in my ass.
“You dare enter these woods,” a rumbling voice challenged.
It was easier to ask Rook, so I did. “Tell me the cat isn’t talking.”
“Hush, Thierry.” He lifted his hands. “We mean you no harm. We only seek the Black Dog.”
“Ha.” The great cat chuckled. “You are a bird. Food. What can food do to me?”
“I am the Morrigan’s son,” he said with an edge.
“I know who you are, bastard son of Gregory the Smith.” The cat spat, “You will leave. Now.”
Rook’s face mottled. “Don’t speak my father’s name. You don’t have that right.”
A vicious snarl lifted the cat’s lip. “You dare enter these woods with that child and speak of rights?”
Deciding the cat wasn’t going to pounce just yet, I tilted my head back again. “I’m not a child.”
“I have known you since before your feet touched mortal soil. You are a babe to one such as me. You are welcome on your father’s land, in his home, always, Thierry Thackeray.” His grin bared too many teeth to be what I considered friendly. “You may stay, but the Morrigan’s hatchling must go.”
“Rook is my guardian.” I kept calm while my insides quivered. “He is my coimirceoir.”
The big cat hissed at Rook. “Who granted you that privilege?”
“The Huntsman.” A cruel twist of his lips turned my stomach. “She is my wife by common fae law.”
That thick tail started twitching. “What do you say to that, girl?”
I bit my cheek before answering. “The Faerie High Court recognized his claim.”
Closing its dark green eyes, the cat sighed. “Child, how you try me.”
I shoved Rook off me and rolled over to face the cat. “Sorry?”
Its toes began drumming its claws into the ground. “Did you not hear my warnings?”
“You sent the pixie?” I shoved into a kneeling position. “That was you in the shower?”
The great cat shuddered nose to tail. “So much water...”
“I’m not flexible enough for the alternative,” I