Fire Maidens: London Page 10

Her eyes heated, and he swore he could read her mind. You took pretty good care of me, too.

  Steamy images from the previous night filled his head, and his lion gave a lusty growl. I can take care of you any time you need. And you can take care of me.

  Then he cleared his throat and laughed it off. “One would hope, yes. But in her mind, I’m still eighteen.” Then he frowned. “That, and she’s worried I’ll turn into my father.”

  Gemma blew on her coffee. “Was he that bad?”

  His first instinct was to joke it off and change the topic, as he usually did. But he was comfortable enough around Gemma to stop and think.

  “Honestly, I don’t remember much. According to my aunt, he stole my mother away and corrupted her.”

  “According to your aunt, huh?”

  A good point, he supposed. There were two sides to every story. The problem was, no one had ever filled him in on the other side. He gazed at the misty morning scene outside. A bee meandered over the flower bed, and dewdrops sparkled with soft pink light. A perfect little world, just the way his aunt liked it.

  Gemma shot him a wry grin. “Maybe I’m the one corrupting you. But you’ve been a knight in shining armor, coming to my rescue again and again.”

  He laughed, pulling her into a hug. “Definitely not a knight. And believe me, my thoughts have been — let’s say…impure — for a while now.”

  She snorted. “Not as impure as mine.”

  “We’ll have to compare notes someday.”

  She chuckled. “Someday.”

  But then her eyes fell to his lips. Her hand slid over his knee. And dammit, he couldn’t help but guide her around to face him. A moment later, they were kissing. Gently, then harder. A hum sounded in his ears, like the sound of the ocean washing over a rocky shore, and the longer he kissed her, the closer his ship drifted to that lee shore.

  Yes, his lion rumbled. More…

  But someone started hammering on the door, and ever so slowly, they eased apart. His body moved first, but his hands fought to hang on, and his lips resisted most of all. He and Gemma ended the kiss with long, stretched-out lips, drawing out the magic as long as they could. When they finally separated, their eyes locked.

  “Nice,” Gemma whispered, flashing a smile.

  “More than nice,” he replied, sliding back for more.

  But the hammering grew louder, and Bri hollered through the door. “Rise and shine.”

  Liam groaned and made for the door. When he opened it, he threw an arm across the threshold before his cousin could charge in.

  “That good a night, huh?” She waggled her eyebrows.

  “No comment.”

  She sniffed then grinned. “Definitely a good night. When’s the wedding?”

  He crossed his arms, trying to look menacing, but it was hard with someone who was practically his kid sister. “Watch it, Bri.”

  She sighed. “It’s not my fault I don’t get any fun, not with the way Mother watches over me.” She frowned, motioning behind her. “Anyway, consider yourself warned. Mother saw the car.”

  He groaned. Of course she had.

  “She nearly marched over here, too, but I told her you were with a lady friend.”

  He winced. “What exactly did you tell her?”

  Brianna flashed a smug smile. “Not as much as I could have. Anyway, I talked her out of coming over to inspect the happy couple for herself. She’s ready to receive you now.”

  Liam slumped against the doorframe. So much for a quiet morning of considering his next steps.

  “Do me a favor, please.”

  Brianna rolled her eyes. “Another one?”

  It took him five minutes to convince Brianna to run back to the main house, and another ten for Gemma to shower thoroughly enough to — mostly — cover the lingering scent of sex. By that time, Brianna had come over with some fresh clothes for Gemma, and Liam braced himself for a half-hour ordeal of his cousin mulling over fashion choices. But Gemma came down the stairs a few minutes later, wearing jeans, a white T-shirt, and her flannel shirt thrown over that. Her hair was clipped in a half-up, half-down arrangement that echoed the lines of her cheeks.

  She twirled once, inviting him to look. “I went for practical, not stylish. Will your aunt mind?”

  Liam shook his head, then his whole body. Now was not the time to think of how he’d had Gemma’s beautiful, naked body to himself the previous night.

  “Mother always finds something to mind,” Bri said cheerfully. “Just ignore her.”

  Liam snorted. Easier said than done.

  “She’s very bossy. Very businesslike,” Brianna continued. “Daddy was the down-to-earth one.”

  Liam shot her a sad smile. Bri was right. His uncle had been warm, patient, and kind. Indulging, if a little disengaged, like most male lions who settled down late and let their mates run the household. And boy, did Liam’s aunt run that household. She had ruled it with an iron fist even before his uncle passed away.

  “Shall we?” Brianna motioned outside.

  Gemma didn’t look so sure, but she stepped to the door gamely. “Let’s go.”

  Liam marveled yet again. If anyone could face his aunt, Gemma could. But, whew. He had yet to master that art form himself.

  “Beautiful garden.” Gemma skimmed her hand over the flowers crowding both sides of the twisting path.

  Liam looked around. The oaks were hundreds of years old, standing strong and steady. Bright daffodils sprung up around their roots, forming a swaying blanket of green and yellow. Thick hedges that meandered this way and that, all lined with flowers. As a kid, he’d never really considered the aesthetics, but now… It really was beautiful, and a great place to grow up. His very first shift into lion form had happened in that garden, and many since.

  But among the feelings of nostalgia lurked frustrations that had plagued him for so many years.

  Be a good boy, Liam. Not like that no-good father of yours…

  Lions are the best. Dragons, you can never trust.

  Your poor mother. She could have done so much better…

  “It’s so quiet here,” Gemma whispered as they crossed a stretch of open lawn.

  Liam followed her gaze. The property ran between the Thames and the former hunting grounds of Richmond Park, so, yes, it was quiet, if you didn’t count the flights heading in and out of Heathrow.

  “Too quiet. Not much nightlife in Richmond,” Brianna grumbled, much as Liam had, once upon a time.

  Gemma slowed. “Wow. Is that a tennis court?”

  Bri sighed. “I have to take lessons and everything.”

  Liam tugged Gemma onward. Yes, the property included a tennis court. If he took her on the grand tour, she would also discover the stable, a boathouse, and the Orangerie. Lions liked making an impression, and that extended to their homes.

  When they turned a corner, coming into view of the main house, Gemma trailed behind. “Wow.”

  Liam frowned. “It is rather…large.”

  “Large? That is huge.”

  Liam looked over the manor house with its sweeping east and west wings, all facing a row of fountains and, farther downslope, the Thames.

  “Not big enough to get away from my mother,” Brianna muttered.

  Liam took Gemma’s hand, hoping she wouldn’t think less of him for that obvious display of wealth.

  “Nice terrace,” Gemma offered as he led her over the flagstones.

  “Great place to sun yourself — if and when the sun comes out,” Brianna said.

  Gemma’s step faltered, and Liam winced. If she was picturing a pride of lions resting in the afternoon sun, then yes, that really happened sometimes.

  Peaceful lions, he wanted to explain. Ones that wouldn’t hurt a fly.

  But that wasn’t entirely the truth, as he’d come to learn. His family — and by extension, the lion Guardians of London — were a lot like the Foreign Legion. Their ideals might be lofty, but sometimes, the ends justified the means. Woe be the shi
fter — or human — who stood in the way of the Guardians’ goals.

  He pulled Gemma a little closer, promising himself that would never be her. But his stomach turned, remembering the task Electra had set out for him. He shouldn’t have succumbed to sheer need the previous night. Not before explaining everything to Gemma.

  But it was too late — in more ways than one, because Brianna was already leading them into the house.

  “Liam, darling.” His aunt rose as they entered the sunny breakfast room. “So good to see you again.” She hugged him with stiff arms, then thrust him away. “Now, who is this beauty?”

  Her voice was perfectly even, but something in it put Liam on red alert.

  “This is my friend, Gemma. Gemma, meet my aunt, Lucinda.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” Gemma took her hand with a tiny curtsy.

  Bri looked impressed, as did his aunt. Even better, confused. Gemma had an American accent but British manners, at least when she chose to switch them on.

  “The pleasure is all mine, dear.”

  She didn’t demand Gemma’s last name, and Liam prayed she hadn’t yet heard about the Fire Maiden sought by the Guardians. On the whole, his aunt refrained from mixing in politics, leaving that to the indomitable Electra and others. But Electra was his aunt’s aunt, so he couldn’t be sure. And as for Lucinda’s expression — well, it was always hard to differentiate. Was that crafty calculation or innocent curiosity that made her eyes glint?

  “Come along. I’ve asked Jensen to lay out a few things for breakfast.”

  Gemma’s eye caught Liam’s and said, A few things?

  He sighed. The table held everything from salmon to scones and fresh strawberries with cream — enough to feed a dozen hungry lions. Then again, his aunt always liked to impress.

  Still, he sensed something brewing under her cool exterior. Something not entirely normal, like the way she silently tapped her nails on the tablecloth. Or was it just him? He hadn’t spent much time at home since leaving the Legion, and people changed. He certainly had.

  “Now, my late husband…” His aunt set off on the long-winded tale of how his uncle Hendrick had amassed the art collection decorating the walls.

  Gemma spread clotted cream and jam on her scone and listened politely. Brianna rolled her eyes. Liam frowned. His uncle had been the one prone to droning on with long stories, but not his aunt. Never. Why was she dragging things out now?

  “And then we renovated the cottage. Isn’t it lovely? I started by choosing the color palette…”

  Jensen, the butler, appeared at a door, quiet as a mouse, then backed away without fluttering an eyelid. Liam’s aunt didn’t miss a beat, but she did tilt her head ever so slightly.

  “Mother, you’re boring our guest,” Brianna complained.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Am I boring you, dear?”

  Gemma put down the spoon she’d been doodling on her empty plate with. “Not at all.”

  “You see?”

  Brianna made a face. “You’re boring me.”

  “Nonsense, child. Now, hush.”

  She’d been exactly the same when Liam was seven, seventeen, and everything in between. Any comments he made, any theories he proposed — especially about his parents — were greeted that way.

  Maybe my daddy tried to be good. Maybe dragons aren’t so bad.

  All were greeted with those same, abrupt words. Nonsense, child. Now, hush.

  “We knew the cream tones needed contrast, and that’s why the curtains are sage…” Lucinda went on about the guesthouse.

  Liam knew damn well his aunt didn’t care about curtains, color palettes, or any such thing. And yet, she rambled on. At the same time, her gaze kept darting around, and, like a lioness crouched in the savanna, she kept perfectly still.

  When the butler nodded from the door and Lucinda half nodded back, Liam’s alarm grew. Something was definitely off.

  Bri… he called into his cousin’s mind. What’s going on?

  But Bri just frowned in confusion. What do you mean?

  Obviously, Brianna wasn’t in on whatever his aunt was plotting. He pulled out his phone and peeked down. On his first glance, he tapped in the code. On the second brief glimpse, he scrolled to his messages. On the third—

  Even before he saw the message from Sergio — the one marked with a red exclamation mark — it hit him.

  His aunt had been in touch with the Guardians. Whether she had contacted them or they had called her didn’t matter. The point was, the Guardians were on their way over. That was why Lucinda was stalling.

  Bri, he all but shouted in his cousin’s mind. I need a favor.

  She looked up, startled.

  Pull up my car. Please. Quietly, and no questions asked. The key is in the ignition.

  Brianna’s eyes slid between him and her mother. Then she shot him a mischievous wink. Slowly, she stood and pressed a napkin to her lips, mumbled something about the ladies’ room, and slipped away.

  “Now, the roofing was really difficult,” his aunt continued, barely noticing.

  Liam gnashed his teeth, and the next few minutes felt like an eternity. Finally, the hum of the Aston Martin’s straight-six engine reached his ears. He jumped up, toast in hand, and pulled Gemma to her feet.

  “Thank you for breakfast, but we really must get going.”

  Gemma blinked. “We do?”

  He nodded firmly and made for the door. But Lucinda was there in a flash, blocking the way.

  “My dear boy. What’s the hurry? Gemma and I are only starting to get acquainted.”

  Her voice was cheery, but her eyes were hard. Don’t you dare ruin this. Everything is going according to plan.

  What exactly that plan was, he didn’t know. Would the Guardians sweep in, grab Gemma, and take her away? Would they drug her up and force her to do their bidding?

  “We have urgent business to attend to,” he insisted.

  “Nonsense, child. You can’t leave.” It was a command, not an admonition.

  Liam had always been grateful for his aunt’s help, and while he’d always known there was a hidden agenda at work, he had usually trusted her judgment. But now, he’d had enough.

  “What’s going on?” he demanded, feeling his face flush. “What have you done?”

  Lucinda’s eyes flashed. “What I had to do. It’s for your own good.” Her gaze went to Gemma with a satisfied glow. “And hers.”

  Gemma frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “My dear girl, there’s so much you don’t know.”

  Liam could have throttled his aunt. Instead, he made a beeline for the door.

  “Liam!” his aunt shouted.

  “Goodbye,” he barked, breaking into a jog.

  Gemma followed without a peep, and he wished he had time to explain. But he didn’t, not with his aunt rushing off for the old-fashioned landline she still used.

  Outside, the car was already facing the manor gates, its engine purring. When Bri slid out of the front seat and held the door open, he hugged her.

  “I could kiss you sometimes.”

  “Yuck. You’re practically my brother. Now, go. And remember, you owe me.”

  “You’ll be okay?”

  Brianna shrugged a little too nonchalantly. “Maybe I’ll be the next Elspeth around here.”

  “God, I hope not.” He tousled her hair. “Thanks, Bri.”

  The second he and Gemma were buckled in, Liam peeled away, scattering gravel. Brianna — bless her — had opened the gates, and within minutes, they were zooming out of town.

  “What exactly is going on?” Gemma asked. “And who is Elspeth?”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “My mother.”

  Gemma fell silent, and he pursed his lips. There was so much he had to explain, but did he really want to get into the details of his mother, the wild child of the family, at a time like this? It was far more important to contact Sergio and warn him. Above all, he had to figure out whe
re Gemma would be safe.

  His mind was spinning, and it must have shown, because Gemma touched his arm. “Sorry. Maybe you can explain some other time.”

  God, he loved her. “I swear I will.”

  Gemma swiveled in her seat, looking back. “Just one thing. Will Brianna be okay?”

  He snorted. “That girl can sweet-talk her way out of anything.”

  Gemma didn’t look convinced, but she kept her lips sealed. A moment later, she opened the glove box and pulled out a map. Then she unfolded it and spread it out on her lap. “Where to?”

  His heart warmed. Boy, did he love her pluck. When he threw her a grin, his gaze caught on the left side of the map, and a whole new plan unfolded in his mind. One he hadn’t even considered, but all of a sudden, there it was, beckoning him.

  Wales. His father’s homeland. A place he hadn’t visited in years.

  Wales? his lion protested. It’s filled with dragons allied with the Guardians. And the Guardians are after Gemma. We can’t bring her there.

  But the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced. For every Welsh dragon who cooperated with the Guardians, there were a dozen others quietly holding out in the hills, the way his father’s clan had.

  He glanced in the rearview mirror, and an image of his father popped into his head. Not the vague blur most of his memories had become, but perfectly clear. The upward sweep of his eyebrows, the sharp curve of his cheeks, and the angle of his jaw — all the features that hadn’t passed through to his son. And yet Liam saw them in the mirror, superimposed on his own.

  That face was young. Honest. Hopeful. That face was calling him home.

  “Motorway coming up.” Gemma’s eyes darted between the map and the roadside signs. “Do we head back to London or follow the M4?”

  Liam scratched his jaw. According to his relatives, Wales was a wild, unruly place. Undesirable, just like his father. He glanced in the mirror again.

  “Liam? Which way?” Gemma asked.

  He could practically hear his relatives clamoring for him to turn Gemma in to the Guardians. The Guardians were old and wise, and they worked for the common good.

  But a lone voice drew him the other way. His father’s voice — one he recognized from his dreams.

  Liam looked at Gemma, then in the mirror. Whatever decision he made would affect her life forever.