Unholy Blue by Darby Kaye Read Free Book Online

closest to the door. In case—”
    â€œIn case what?”
There it is—that little streak of chauvinism
. Shay wasn’t sure if she found it annoying or endearing. Before Bann could answer, she sat up and continued. “In case you have to protect me from something?”
    â€œNo, I wish to be closer to the door in case Cor awakes and comes into our room, seeking me.”
    â€œOh.” Her face grew warm. “Yeah. Right. Well, that makes sense.” She scooted over as Bann slipped under the covers. Rolling to her side, she tucked the pillow more firmly under her head and gazed at his profile, enjoying the way the moonlight cast half his face in shadow, like an old-fashioned black-and-white photo.
    â€œAnd I know what you were thinking.” He stretched out on his back, one arm folded behind his head while his other hand rested on her hip, his thumb idly stroking her.
    â€œNo, you don’t, so shut up.”
    â€œYou were thinking,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “‘that miserable auld sod. Where the bleedin’ hell does he get off, thinking
he
can protect
me
? Why, I can wield a blade as ably as any man.’”
    Shay laughed and poked him in the ribs. “And don’t forget it.”

    A few hours later, Bann jerked awake. Not sure what had ripped him out of sleep, he raised his head, aware of Shay’s arm and leg thrown across his body. The moon’s light was gone, leaving the shadows to loiter in the corners like minions of the night. He listened again.
    The hairs on his arms stiffened when a distant howl broke the night—a soul weeping for the moon. As the note rose in pitch, Bann could almost see the muzzle of the hound pointed skyward toward the dog star. Every atom in his body leaped to high alert. He started to ease out from under the woman when she spoke, no trace of sleep in her voice.
    â€œThat’s a coyote. It’s not Max.”
    â€œAre you certain?”
    â€œYeah. Wait a sec and you’ll hear the rest of the pack start up. Full moon and all. There. Hear it?”
    A second yodel joined the first, followed by another and then another. Too twitchy to sleep, he brushed his fingers along Shay’s arm. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered. He slipped out from under the covers and snagged his jeans, the sheathed knife still attached to the belt, and pulled them on.
    â€œChecking on Cor?”
    â€œAye. Just in case.” He wondered when he would get over his obsessive protectiveness.
Probably not until that monster is dead
.
    â€œI’ll go with you. Since we’re now officially parenting partners.” Shay rolled off the mattress on the other side, reaching for the shirt and pajama pants she had tossed on the floor.
    A step ahead of Shay, Bann opened the door.
    A figure stood in the hallway, reaching a hand toward them. In the darkness, it seemed to crouch, ready to spring; the top of its head came scarcely to the Knight’s waist.
    With a cry of warning, Bann shoved Shay back into the bedroom with one hand as he ripped his iron knife free of the sheath with the other.
Gods! Did it get to Cor
? He charged, sick with the certainty that his son was lying dead just a few yards away. The creature squeaked and stumbled backwards.
    â€œDad!”
    Bann pulled the thrust just in time, the knife’s blade slicing past Cor’s left ear by less than an inch. Off-balance, he twisted to one side and crashed into the hallway wall so hard his teeth snapped together. He staggered a step, then caught himself. The horror of what had almost happened—what he had almost done—was a fist to his gut. Anger, fueled by fear, flared up; he barely stopped himself from planting the knife into the drywall. Instead, he slammed his fist against it. The dull boom echoed through the house.
    â€œWhat the bleedin’ hell are ye doing,” he roared at Cor cowering a few feet away,