Master of Desire (Merlin's Legacy #6) - Angela Knight Page 0,28

girlfriends than the Magekind has witches.”

“And most of them were skinny, gorgeous and very pale. Not that I usually care, but none of that describes me, so you have nothing to worry about.” Helena dropped the gun belt on the bedside table, within easy reach. With a sigh, she sat on the bed and fell back, arms spread, to stare up at the ceiling. Her body still vibrated with leftover adrenaline, and her eyes ached.

“Your looks are not the issue.” The words rumbled in the dark, an offended growl.

“My looks are definitely the issue. You’ve spent most of the past two centuries in a gun safe. You don’t know this culture.”

“Apparently not, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She sighed and rubbed both hands over her face. “I’m not white, Liam.”

“So what? Conal’s half Sidhe.”

“And I’m all werewolf.”

“So’s the queen of the Sidhe. Didn’t stop King Llyr. Besides, Conal doesn’t seem to care.”

“You didn’t see the look on his face when he saw me standing there furry.” Helena dropped her hands and lifted her head to eye his holster. “Anyway, I thought you were trying to convince me to stay away from him.”

“I am. Furry or not, you’re a hero. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“He looked pretty heroic to me when he picked up a death god and started killing werewolves. Man had more bites than a bucket of chicken. You’ve got to admire the balls.” Which were outstanding…

“He’s still a player. And he’s going to hurt you whether he means to or not.”

“Look, you don’t have to worry about me and Conal.” Helena hooked her hands behind her neck and pulled, trying to stretch out tight muscles. “I’m well aware that whatever he’s feeling right now is a product of hormones.”

Liam made a growling sound. “There’s no reasoning with you right now. You might as well get some sleep.”

She sighed. “And with any luck, maybe this time I won’t dream about things that go bite in the night.”

* * *

Mentally kicking his own ass, Conal sat with his elbows braced on his knees, staring grimly at the bedside rug. The door opened, and his head snapped up. Wings fluttered and Essus came in for a landing on his bare shoulder. What’s happening? the bird demanded through their link. I could feel how upset you were all the way downstairs.

Just the usual. I’m a dumbass.

The bird reached up one clawed foot, grabbed a hank of his hair, and gave it a hard tug. Don’t be any more stupid than you can help. What happened?

Es had always been a good sounding board, and God knew Conal could use one. So he told his friend about Helena’s nightmare and his own stupid reaction. The bird cocked his head. Why are you surprised?

Conal glowered, stung. It’s not like all my romantic evenings end in disaster.

The bird leaned down so that his eyes were only an inch or two from Conal’s. You were tortured today, boy. And from the sound of it, it triggered some bad memories for her too. Both of you awoke from very ugly dreams. Of course you were disoriented.

Conal raked his hair back from his face with one hand. It was worse than that -- I hurt her, Essus. You should’ve seen the look on her face. I all but accused her of being a monster.

Oh, bullshit. The eagle butted his feathered head against Conal’s cheek. You had a nightmare. So did she. She understands.

He shook his head. “Maybe,” he said aloud. “I don’t know.” Frowning, he stared out the window at the lights of New York. “I want to do something for her. Show her the city. I’ll bet she’s never had the chance to play tourist. She’d enjoy that.” Conal wanted -- needed -- to show her he had something to offer. That he wasn’t just some pitiful victim she had to rescue and protect. He was a Sidhe warrior. He’d proved as much in Siobhan’s hell court. They’d have eaten him alive if he’d been any less.

Essus clicked his beak, a sound of irritation. “The woman lives with Maeve. New York is impressive, but it’s not fairyland. She’s not going to be that dazzled.”

“Of course not. I just want to show Helena a good time. She deserves it.”

The bird tugged his hair again. “You both do.” Cocking his head, he added, “But you’d do well to remember she is a werewolf in her Burning Moon. Don’t assume your emotions for her are genuine, or you’ll end