13. Catriona

13

CATRIONA

I don't frighten easily. When it comes to things that go bump in the night, I've been desensitized by hundreds of hunts.

But I'm on edge tonight.

"Get rid of it," I instruct Felix, my eyes on the grotesque ceramic monster.

"How?"

"Dump it off the porch. We'll deal with it in the morning."

If it's even there in the morning.

Ceramic monsters don't move on their own. Someone or something is moving them.

We go inside, locking the door behind us.

"I'm going to have words with Greg tomorrow," Felix says as he follows me up the stairs to our apartment.

"Don't be too hard on him. You know it takes him a while to digest a large meal. I'm sure he didn't mean to overdo it."

Felix only grunts.

I turn to him once we're in our apartment, resisting the urge to wring my hands. "He's all right, isn't he? Whatever was out in the woods with us, you don't think it attacked him, do you?"

"The only thing that's ever gotten close to killing Greg is his own eating habits."

"That's true, but…"

Felix sets his hands on my shoulders. "He's fine, bluebird. If he was in danger, he would contact us."

I study him and then nod, deciding he's right.

He drops his hands. "I'm going to look for a kettle again. If I can find one, would you like a cup of tea?"

"It's two in the morning."

"What's your point?" He gives me a lopsided grin. "We're on our own, tucked away in this private apartment. The only rules are the ones we create for ourselves."

"All right," I say reluctantly. "One cup."

Smiling like I agreed to more than tea, he turns toward the kitchen to add fuel to the dying coals in the stove. I watch him for a few minutes, crossing my arms. Then, disconcerted by the cozy sight of my husband stoking the kitchen fire, I turn toward the bedroom. "I'm going to put away my blades."

"When's the full moon?" Felix calls from the kitchen.

"In about a week and a half. Why? Do you want to knock on every villager's door and narrow our suspects down to whoever doesn't answer?"

It's not a terrible idea. During the full moon, a werewolf cannot shift into human form. For twenty-four hours, they make themselves scarce.

I place my blades on the bureau, resisting the urge to give them a loving stroke.

"We'll make a list of everyone out and about that day, check on those who aren't, and then whoever we can't locate will become a suspect."

"I don't know what worries me the most—that it's a good idea or that you were paying attention when I taught you about werewolves."

"Your opinion of me is humbling."

My smile turns into a frown, and I sigh, looking away.

"You're still worried about Greg, aren't you?"

"A little," I admit.

"You know there is no werewolf that could take the dragon. Besides, he could smell it coming from a mile away."

"It's too bad we can't walk Greg into town and let him sniff out the monster."

I smile at the idea of parading the dragon down the street on a lead. He'd never forgive me.

"I'm not sure Greg would be keen on the idea of you treating him like Atticus's basset hound." Felix stands in the doorway, shoulder against the frame. He looks handsome, as usual, but tired as well.

"You didn't find a kettle?" I ask.

"I'm afraid not."

"We should get some sleep anyway."

He nods, trying but failing to suppress a yawn. Then, he begins unarming himself. His pistol goes first, and then a dagger. And finally, his sword.

"You didn't take your nunchucks," I say wryly.

"Disappointed you didn't get to see them in action?"

"Very."

He looks pensive. "I think we should focus on befriending the villagers."

"So, when one goes missing on the full moon, it's only natural we'd show up to check on their wellbeing?"

"Precisely. And meanwhile, we'll have Greg watching the woods."

"No more slinking around at night?"

"Unless you enjoyed it so much you'd like to do it again." Chuckling at the idea, he leaves the bedroom. "Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning."

I close the door and prepare for bed. As soon as I snuff the bedroom lamp, my mind returns to the woods—to the redcaps. I see their painted eyes and think of how they moved as if alive.

Wraiths pull these stunts, feeding off fear like vampires feed on blood. Is there perhaps more than a werewolf in these woods? I hate incorporeal spirits, preferring to fight creatures of flesh and bone.

But that's a worry for tomorrow.

"Think of happy things," I whisper to myself. "Kittens, sunflowers, summer rainstorms."

Felix .

No, thinking of Felix might be worse. But when I push him out of my mind, I see the redcaps.

I shiver, realizing it's cold in the room, and leave my bed. When I open the door to let in heat from the fireplace, Felix pushes up on his forearm and looks at me over his shoulder. "Are you all right?"

I've made Lord Felix Cunningham, the reluctant heir to GHOST, sleep in front of the fire like a dog. No, that's not right. Lord Felix Cunningham, the reluctant heir to GHOST, offered to sleep on the floor. His long frame seems out of place on the rug. Even with the pillow and blanket, it looks miserable.

"It's cold in the bedroom," I say.

He nods, his eyes briefly drifting to my dressing gown and then returning to my face. "Do you want me to add more wood to the stove?"

I shake my head, my fingers closing over the doorframe as I linger. It's warm in the main room.

Felix sits up all the way. "What's wrong?"

"I don't usually get spooked, but…" I shrug. I'm not so proud I can't admit tonight affected me. "Would it be all right if I sit in a chair with you for a while?"

Felix's expression softens. "Of course."

I avert my eyes. "Or maybe tonight, you could sleep in the bed?"

We're married , I remind myself. Whether we'll stay married or not, I don't know. But that's a worry for the future.

I expect Felix to tease me, to make me wish I'd kept my mouth shut and dealt with my invisible monsters myself. But he doesn't. He merely rises, folding his blanket and checking the fireplace screen to ensure it's in place, and then follows me into the bedroom.

I slip into the bed, my heart racing faster than it should. I keep my back to him, facing the window. Felix sits on the other side, fully dressed.

When he touches my shoulder, my whole body jolts. He chuckles, the touch becoming a gentle rub. "Sleep without fear, Cat. I'll stay on my side."

"I'm already asleep," I blatantly lie.

Laughing, he slides in beside me, shifting the mattress with his weight.

He doesn't touch me. I don't touch him. But the night doesn't seem as lonely.