Free The Magic Knot by Helen Scott Taylor Page B

of heat and curiosity in her eyes when she looked at him. She might have lived with humans these past thirty years, but with his guidance, she would soon adjust to the life she had been born for.
    Nightshade jumped from the tree, touched ground briefly on silent feet, and with a powerful sweep of his wings rose into the air beside her window. Through the crack between the curtains, he saw the outline of her body beneath the bedcovers.
    There was no way into the room without breaking the glass, and he didn’t want to frighten her again. Moving to the hall window next to her room, he used fingernails strong as shards of steel to prize open the rotten window frame. A flap of his wings propelled him onto the windowsill and he climbed inside. One dim light illuminated the landing at the top of the stairs.
    He crept forward, turned into the short hallway that led to Rose’s room, and stilled. Conversation hummed in the pub below, punctuated now and then by the dissonant clamor of drunken laughter. A car door slammed outside. An engine roared to life. Placing the sole of his boot carefully against the wooden panel beside the lock on Rose’s door, he tensed, ready to deliver a sharp kick.
    “I would prefer you not wreck the door.” The softly spoken comment from the shadows beside the stairs jerked Nightshade around into a defensive crouch.
    He could still taste blood from his split lip where Niall had punched him, and he welcomed a chance for retribution. “Half-breed scut. Step out and face me if you dare.”
    “I thought I had,” Niall said flatly as he halted just out of reach. “Return home, stalker. This lass is not for you.”
    The hint of sympathy in Niall’s voice fired Nightshade’sindignation. “How dare you pity me. You’re nothing. Even your own queen hates you.”
    Niall didn’t respond, his perfect face cold as a mask of stone. As always, lust for the Irish fairy’s blood beat hot in Nightshade’s veins. He ached to crack Niall’s shell, make the proud Tuatha Dé Danaan swoon as he bit into the warm, musky skin of his neck.
    Nightshade growled in frustration. “I’ll relinquish my right to her, if you give yourself to me.”
    Niall’s eyes scraped him. “You’re wasting your breath, stalker. ’Tis never going to happen.”
    “Then I’ll take Rosenwyn. She and I are the last of pisky blood. We belong together.”
    “What about the piskies who went to America?”
    Nightshade hesitated. Lies and deception had become his truth. In his eagerness, he’d forgotten to watch what he said. “The others are lost to me. I want Rose.”
    “No. The lass returns whence she came,” Niall said, shaking his head. “She’s more human than pisky. ’Tis not fair to wrench her from her career and home because you’re bored with Tristan.”
    The animal inside Nightshade rattled its cage, and he took a step forward. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. You want her as well, but you know she won’t want you.”
    Darkness swam within the vibrant blue of Niall’s eyes. Nightshade tensed, ready to fight; then with surprise, he sensed Niall relax.
    “Nay, stalker. I do not want her.” Niall looked at Rosenwyn’s door and released a lingering breath. “Me cup of worry overflows with Ana.”
    At Niall’s mention of his leprechaun sister, Nightshade had an idea. Niall would not let him take Rosenwyn from her bed that night, but maybe with the rightinducement…“Agree to bring Rosenwyn to Trevelion Manor tomorrow, and I’ll leave now.”
    With a snort of disbelief, Niall said, “No way.”
    Nightshade knew what the Irish’s weak spot was. “Bring her, or I’ll tell Tristan you had the pisky and let her go. He’ll never renew the spell protecting your sister then.”
    “The druid’s greedy. He’ll be willing to play things my way when his money runs out.”
    “Maybe. But how long will it take him to spend that latest installment? Longer than you have before the spell dissipates, I