She said between gritted teeth, "I don't care who you are or what you are. This dog has suffered more abuse than most prisoners of war do. I'm not putting him down or giving him over to you. So if you want him, you're going to have to come through me to get him. And for Christ's sake, what's the matter with you? Who wants a dog this badly anyway?"

It was sheer, stupid bravado. She was outcla.s.sed and outgunned, and the only thing she had going for her at the moment was a curse that was more likely to kill her than cause them anything more than a few moments' discomfort. They were so much stronger. d.a.m.n it. She might be stupid and crazy, but she wasn't suicidal.

A tiny silence fell as they stared at her again.

Then Thunder said, "Lady. That's not a dog."

"What?" she uttered. She glanced down at the ridiculous Ewok face tucked under her arm. Huge, walleyed, filmy eyes blinked up at her. Whatever it was, it looked aged and sad. Her voice hardened. "I don't care what it is. It's been hurt and used badly, and I won't stand for any more of it."

If, that is, she had any choice about the matter. As far as strength went, they could easily wrestle it away from her.

Unpredictability shimmered in the air. She held firm in the face of it. She had dealt many times with those of the Elder Races, and despite the vastly different personalities and situations, invariably, they all respected a show of strength.

Nikolas's attention shifted down to the creature she held. After a long moment, he lifted his sword behind his head and sheathed it. She watched him warily. In fact, she couldn't look away.

He didn't need to feel for the sheath with his second hand or fumble to get the sword in. He knew precisely how long his sword was and exactly where the sheath rode between his shoulder blades, like both items were extensions of his body. This was not a man to engage in a sword fight.

Then he released her wrist and took a step back. She felt, rather than heard, their witnesses let out a collective sigh. If she were honest with herself, she would admit to losing her own breath as well.

"You're American." His voice was clipped and cold. "I want to hear what you were doing two weeks ago when your magic accosted me. And I want to hear everything about how you and the puck met."

The puck. The puck?

The only puck Sophie knew of was a hockey puck. And this guy might be able to carry off every ounce of his monumental arrogance, but after he'd bared his weapon and a.s.saulted her, she was still too full of anger and adrenaline to give in to it.

She told him in an insolent, indifferent voice. "Do you? I want a million bucks and a villa in Capri. Thanks for asking, a.s.shole."

The lightning of his Power flared, whiting out her mental senses until all she could see was the masculine outline of his body. He looked-felt-like an avenging angel.

He snarled, "Do not push me, human."

But when Sophie reached this level of overload, she truly had no concept of sense or limits. She lifted her face to his and hissed. "I'll push you every bit as much as you've pushed me."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Thunder's fingers clench on Nikolas's shoulder, and suddenly Arran was on his other side as well.

Arran said in a conciliatory tone, "Tempers have run very high on both sides, my lord. Perhaps if everyone could take a moment, I'm sure this unfortunate misunderstanding can be cleared up. I would be honored to offer you all a drink, on the house as it were, and you can sit down to discuss your differences all civil-like. And I can get the miss a bite of supper. I know she was looking forward to a hot meal, seeing as she just arrived in England today."

My lord. Arran talked as if this guy was a prince of his people. Sophie tried to sneer at the thought, but actually, given his utterly atrocious behavior, she could well believe it.

On the other side, Thunder muttered, "d.a.m.n it, man, listen to him. Do it."

The rage in Nikolas's face eased somewhat as he listened to the others speak, but Sophie's didn't. She wanted to push him, and push him, and see what he might do then, because like the part of her that had needed to melt down earlier, the part of her that had no sense, had the bit between its teeth and wanted to run amok.

Then she caught another glimpse of Arran's wife, back against the wall. Maggie wiped her face with a visibly trembling hand, and Sophie's uncontrollable rage died. This confrontation was not just frightening for her. It was frightening other people.

Sliding away from Nikolas's taut body, she said directly to Maggie, "I'm sorry we've caused such a fuss. If we have any more arguing to do, we'll take it outside, well away from here."

She put an extra glare in her glance at Nikolas as she said that. He looked supremely, utterly indifferent to it. In a calm voice, as if he had never lost his temper, he said to Arran, "Thank you for your offer, but there's no need for you to bear the financial brunt of our conflict. Please see that everyone gets a drink, whatever they want, and put it on my tab. We'll be at the corner table when you're done."

Relief flooded Arran's weathered features. He nodded and smiled. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

With a long, inscrutable look at her and another one at the dog... the doglike creature... she still clutched, Nikolas turned away.

Her capacity to glare after him was disrupted as Thunder stepped in front of her, blocked her view of Nikolas's back, and offered his hand. In a low voice, he said, "I'm Gawain. My apologies for what just happened. We've been too involved for too long in combat situations. Our first reaction to any kind of conflict or inexplicable event tends to be, well, less than peaceful."

That gave her pause. She had known men like that, men who had been at war for so long their response to any kind of conflict was violent. Often they were unable to a.s.similate back into normal society, and they re-upped and went back into the army, or they became police officers. Occasionally they turned a gun on themselves.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied Thunder's rough features. He appeared to be sincere enough, and the dog (doglike creature) wasn't yapping or yodeling any longer or acting fearful.

Taking her cue from that, cautiously she took Gawain's hand and shook it. "Sophie Ross. Maybe there's no harm done this time, but there's no trust won either. If one of you draws your weapon or manhandles me again, I'll slap you with a curse so fast it will make your head spin. That's a promise, Gawain."

"I understand, and I respect it." Gently his fingers squeezed hers, and then he released her. "Please, come join us at the table and tell us your story. It's important."

She hesitated, looking from one male to the other, but as deadly as Gawain was, she sensed no danger coming from him.

Nikolas though. She gave him a narrow look, which he returned with more than a hint of banked malice.

As far as Nikolas went, whether he was a prince of his people or not, she wouldn't trust him as far as she could throw him.

Chapter Five.

The round, wooden table in the corner of the front room was stained dark and scarred from many years of use. Nikolas chose a worn velvet chair tucked in the corner so he could look out over the rest of the room and watch the door.

From that vantage point, he watched Gawain talk with the American woman and listened easily to their low-voiced exchange. Nikolas filed her name away for future reference as he took in the details of her appearance.

She wasn't short for a female, but she appeared short and slight next to Gawain, whose brawny height emphasized the femininity of her slender figure. Many of the details Nikolas had gleaned from the vision two weeks ago held true.

Her hair was long, black, and curling. She kept it pulled back from her pale, angular face by looping it into a short braid. It exploded from the end of the braid in an extravagant cloud of curls. Like the vision, her creamy skin was sprinkled with freckles, her lips were plush and pink, and she looked tired and too thin, almost gaunt. Dark circles ringed her eyes.

There was one arresting change from what he had seen before.

Those eyes. In the vision, her eyes had been pale and uninteresting. In reality, they were spectacular. They might be called pale gray or even light blue-it was hard to tell across the room-but mere descriptive words were inadequate and didn't do them justice.

Her eyes were brilliant, and not just with the force of her personality and the magic she carried. They seemed to draw from every light around her and sparkled with luminosity, almost like diamonds.

He drew in a deep breath, filtering out the other scents in the pub to bring her feminine scent into his lungs. There was something different about her. She wasn't quite fully human, and she held a significant amount of personal Power. It would be a mistake to underestimate her.

Gawain persuaded her to join them, and still carrying Robin under her arm, she followed him reluctantly to the corner table where she gave Nikolas one sour, brief glance before choosing a seat to his right, which kept her from having her back to the room as well.

Gawain took the seat to Nikolas's left, settling his large, powerful body with care into the chair, leaving Nikolas's view of the room un.o.bstructed.

He completed his study of the female and turned his attention to Robin, who looked strangely small and frail. The puck's Power felt nonexistent, and there was something wrong with his eyes as well. One of them was off-center, appearing to look off to the side. Frowning, Nikolas cupped his chin in one hand, resting the elbow on the other arm, which he crossed over his chest as he studied the puck.

In a low voice, Gawain said to him, "How long do you think we have?"

"Not long," he responded. "A half an hour at most. We should not take any longer than that. This isn't an isolated area, like our gathering was up north."

"I can leave, while you two talk."

"Oh no. No, no." Sophie threw up her free hand in a universal "stop" gesture. She said to Gawain, "If you leave, I'm leaving too. I'm not going to stay here and talk to him alone."

The emphasis she put on that was most distinctly not a positive one. Nikolas's eyes narrowed. While he couldn't care less about what the female thought of him, one way or another, she would talk with him.

He told her, "I am not leaving, and neither are you. You and I have things to say to each other."

When she finally looked at him, her face was drawn tight with anger and distaste. "What are you going to do to keep me here? This again?" She held up her free hand, showing a pale slender wrist that was swollen and red with his fingermarks.

At the sight, Nikolas's mouth tightened. The ghost of the man he used to be turned uneasily in its grave.

He had no illusions about himself. Once he would have been filled with remorse at bruising a female, but long ago he had turned cold and hard.

A female had killed so very many of his people. His friends. That female was h.e.l.l-bent on annihilating an entire demesne, and Nikolas was capable of doing things now that he had never dreamed possible.

He said in a soft, warning voice, "I would do that and so much more if it meant we get answers we need."

Robin growled while the woman leaned forward.

Forward, toward Nikolas, not away from him in fear. Meeting aggression with aggression. He raised his eyebrows. Usually people didn't respond to him in such a manner.

She whispered, "You touch me again without my permission, and I will damage you."

That face. Those mesmerizing eyes. She showed absolutely no fear even though he could detect traces of it in her scent. Surprised, he almost smiled before he remembered she was not someone he felt any inclination to smile at.

Gawain leaned forward too. "We don't have time for this." Looking at Sophie, he explained, "When Nikolas and I are together, we raise a discernible amount of energy between us. It is the same when we are with our comrades. The more of us who gather, the stronger the effect. We don't do anything to generate it. It occurs naturally, although the effect also grows in intensity whenever we use magic."

As Gawain spoke, Nikolas kept his attention trained on her. He found himself reluctant to look away. The miniscule changes in her expression were fascinating.

Her eyelids lowered briefly. "I think I understand what you're saying. I can feel it just sitting here with you."

"Our enemies use that to hunt us. As we are not a strong enough force to defeat them, it keeps us from banding together for any length of time."

Her attention turned sharp and piercing. She looked interested in their problem almost in spite of herself. "What if you throw a null spell? Won't that dissipate the energy?"

Nikolas didn't like how she focused solely on Gawain. He said abruptly, "Yes, but the effect only lasts for a few minutes."

"Usually, my null spells don't last long either." She hesitated, then said slowly, almost reluctantly, "What if I told you I might have a way to hold the null spell in place for longer than a few minutes. Would you be interested?"

"Do you mean like an amulet?" Nikolas didn't like the sound of that.

No magic user liked null spells in amulets or jewelry. Typically, only nonmagical creatures liked to use null spell jewelry for protection, and prisons used null spells in cells and handcuffs to contain dangerous, Powerful prisoners.

Null spell amulets also worked counter to the Daoine Sidhe purpose when they gathered to cast the invocation to contact Lyonesse. Handling null amulets hampered their ability to cast defensive and offensive spells and to detect dangers around them.

"No," Sophie replied. "What I can do is not that permanent, and it's easily negated. Would you be interested?"

Nikolas met Gawain's eyes. He could see the other man was as intrigued as he was. Gawain said, "Even if you could, it would have limited application. Dampening our Power also means crippling our abilities and dulling our senses. It's a dangerous proposition to consider."

"True," Sophie agreed. "It would really only achieve one thing-it would give you the ability to be together for longer than a few minutes without being detected."

He glanced at Gawain again. They could have a real conversation, maybe share a meal together. The lure was so strong Nikolas pulled back emotionally from it. In a harsh voice, he said, "What's the catch to this?"

Sophie's slender black eyebrows rose. "As far as I can tell, there are two catches. You already know the first. It would hamper your ability to cast spells, at least until you rinsed the spell off, which is easy to do. The second is-you haven't convinced me yet that I should do a G.o.dd.a.m.n thing for you."

She held Robin on her lap protectively as she spoke, while she glared first at Nikolas then at Gawain, who replied with quiet courtesy, "You have every right to feel the way you do, after what just happened. What can we do to convince you?"

She compressed those luscious, sensual lips of hers. Then in a tight voice, she asked, "Did either of you have anything to do with a nasty spell I encountered while I was walking into town?" She looked at Gawain. "You know what I'm talking about. I saw you slow down on your bike and study the area where it landed."

Gawain's expression changed. "You were there when I was?"

"Yes." She looked down at the creature in her lap. "Both-what is his name, Robin?-and I were."

"I had no idea," he murmured as if to himself. "I didn't sense you at all."

Her mouth quirked. "That's because I didn't want you to."

She was c.o.c.ky, Nikolas would give her that. Absently he twisted the signet ring on his ring finger while he listened to their exchange. Sophie's attention dropped to the movement.

He told her abruptly, "The woman who created that spell is our mortal enemy. She's the one who is trying to destroy us."

For the first time, Sophie regarded him without anger or distaste. Gently she pulled one of the dog's ears to the side, revealing its bony, blistered neck. She said, "That spell was woven into a broken silver rope tied around Robin's neck."

"Is that what happened?" Nikolas asked the puck. "Did the Queen imprison you?" The puck remained silent. "Robin? Why aren't you speaking?"

The dog opened its mouth and showed him. In the recess where a tongue should be, there was only a stump.

Nikolas clenched his teeth. Gawain swore under his breath. Sophie blanched visibly while horror darkened her eyes. She whispered, "Earlier when I fell asleep, I dreamed about being in a cage while they tore out my tongue and threw it on a fire."

Nikolas tried telepathy. Robin. Tell me what happened to you.

The puck gave no indication that he heard. Tilting his head back, he watched Sophie's face unwaveringly, like the dog he appeared to be.

Aloud, Nikolas said, "He's not talking telepathically either. I'm not even sure I connected with him."

An odd expression crossed Sophie's face, and a small, bitter smile twisted her lips. She murmured, "He's nonverbal, possibly trauma induced. Hopefully he'll recover his language as he heals. I've known it to happen."

As they talked, Arran walked up to their table, carrying a tray. He looked at Nikolas. "Everyone else has been served, my lord, just as you requested. What can I bring you? Drinks and supper?"

Nikolas glanced at Gawain, who said, "A half hour is almost up. Either we need to split up, or we can see what this young lady might be able to do for us." Gawain turned to Sophie. "I don't want to be forced to leave before we've finished this conversation. I'll volunteer for your spell if you would be so kind to cast it."

Every muscle in Nikolas's body tensed. It went against all his instincts to trust a stranger to put a spell on one of them, especially when he had clashed with her before, and even now, she held a creature he had never entirely trusted on her lap as they talked.