Myth and Magic. Mae Clair
streaming down her back in a tangled ponytail. A single yellow rose, snipped just below the bloom, was tucked into her hairband.
“That’s Ron,” Trask said with a goofy grin. He looked from Caith to Merlin. “Come on. You guys have to meet her.”
She’d been distant at that first meeting. Distant and wary. After all, they were boys, and she was out of her element. But it hadn’t taken long. She’d been better with the pretend sword than him and could outrun both Merlin and Trask.
He’d liked her from the start, then grown attracted to her about the time he turned sixteen. It was when he began to use sex as a crutch to ease the gut-twisting guilt he carried over Trask’s death. There had been plenty of older girls, some from the local college, all willing to teach him. He hadn’t cared about names or faces, and the need for escape made him a fast learner. For every moment he lost himself in the blissful mindlessness of sex, caring only for the release it brought, Caith treasured Veronica from afar.
She deserved to be loved and cherished. The older he got, the stronger those emotions grew. But she deserved someone better. Someone who wasn’t tainted by death. Who wouldn’t put her in danger simply by being at her side. He’d spent many nights waking in fear, his chest so tight he couldn’t breathe, certain those who loved him would suffer.
The fear had never gone away. It had simply become bearable, distant.
Don’t hurt him! Trask’s voice echoed in his mind, resurrecting the sickening smell of model glue. Please… you can’t….
Then bits of images he’d locked in a dark place he rarely allowed to surface: a damp room, the slant of greasy sunlight through a mud-splattered window, a man with a pock-marked face, the sharp, straight edge of a knife.
Don’t hurt him! Trask had screamed.
Shaken, Caith dragged a hand over his face. He was grateful when he stepped into Veronica’s office and could concentrate on something other than the past.
The room wasn’t large, but homey, with bookcases, wooden file cabinets, and paisley curtains at the windows. A cherry desk topped with a computer screen, several folders, and scattered papers indicated the owner wasn’t always tidy. Paper clips, pens, pencils, a discarded newspaper, and an empty coffee cup added to the clutter. He guessed Ron, as manager, was the only one permitted a computer at the lodge.
His back to the door, Caith slid into a chair across from the desk. “If you pull the personnel files, I’ll take them to my room. You do have a room for me?”
Her gaze raked over him, decidedly cool. Most likely, she was still miffed about the near-kiss in the kitchen. Reaching into the top drawer of her desk, she snagged a key and tossed it at him. “The Blackbird Suite.”
Caith caught the key in his left hand, his brows crinkling at her frosty tone. “Blackbird?”
“Stone Willow has three floors not counting the basement, which you’ve already seen.” Veronica settled behind her desk. “The main level consists of my office and apartment, the lobby, kitchen, dining area, a room for gathering, and an enclosed porch to the rear. The second floor has six singular rooms, and the third, four suites—Blackbird, Hummingbird, Wood Thrush, and Nightingale.”
“You gave me a suite instead of a room?” Caith tried to lighten the mood. “Someone must like me.”
“Not me. It was Aren’s idea. As he’s the COO and you’re his brother, I guess that entitles you to some privileges. Besides, most everything that’s happened has been on the third floor or in the basement. We thought you should be where the action is.”
“With the gobbly ghouls,” a man inserted behind Caith in a sarcastic tone.
Caith spun quickly. The sight of the man poised in the doorway brought him to his feet. “Merlin.”
He hadn’t bargained on such a sharp reaction. Something dark danced up his spine. Time stretched like a taut rope as the two regarded each other in silence. Finally, Caith offered his hand. “It’s been a long time.”
Ignoring the overture, Merlin brushed past him. “Not long enough.” Stepping around Veronica’s chair, he placed his hands on her shoulders, leaning forward to press his lips against hers. The message was clear: She’s mine. Back off.
“Merlin!” Veronica tried to swat him away, as if annoyed he’d use her as a trinket in a power play.
“You haven’t changed much,” Caith observed sourly.
Merlin chuckled.
“I was telling Caith about the lodge,” Veronica interrupted with a sharp glance for Merlin. “He’s going to be staying in the Blackbird Suite.”
“How fitting.” Merlin’s gaze slid across the desk to Caith. “Blackbirds and ravens, eating the souls of the dead.” The hint of a mocking smile stretched his lips. “Then again, you know all about dead things, don’t you?”
“Merlin!” Veronica gasped at precisely the moment Caith launched himself at his brother. Catching Merlin by the collar, he slammed him up against the wall. “Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Feigning innocence, Merlin held up his hands. “You’re overreacting, Caithelden. It was a simple comment.”
“Fuck you. It was about Trask.” With a final shove, Caith released him.
“What if it was?” Merlin straightened his shirt. “You think you can waltz into Coldcreek and not have to face that? You think everyone’s going to sidestep the issue so they don’t ruffle your feathers? The hell with that. I lived through it, too.”
“The hell with you.” Caith headed for the door. “Veronica, when you’ve got the files together bring them to my suite. I’m going to unpack.”
His fury carried him into the lobby and past the reception desk. He hit the front door with the flat of his hand, throwing it open. The force propelled it into the wall. Boiling, he took the steps two at a time. His Explorer was parked around the side of the lodge, tucked between trees where he’d hoped no one would see the vehicle until he was ready.
But Merlin had.
Merlin had shown up and reawakened all the bitter blood between them. It shouldn’t have happened. Brothers who’d been close in childhood torn apart by something ugly and vile.
He blames me.
Ignoring the enraged pounding of his heart, Caith wrenched open the back of the SUV and yanked his bags free. As he moved to close the vehicle, he raised his head and caught a startling glimpse of the house. Bracketed by the deepening night sky and tattered clouds, it looked somber and forbidding.
With a soft curse, Caith carted his bags into the lodge and to the suite he was certain Veronica had handpicked for him because of its name.
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