“Well, we’re all aware of what you’ve done for us,” Dion said. “The loans you’ve given people to start businesses, the scholarships… You’ve made a difference.”
Conal smiled, but there was something tight in the line of his mouth. “Never seems to be enough.”
Chapter Seven
Helena and Conal spent the next week together making love every time they got the chance. She felt hungry for him, and not just because of hormones. She enjoyed being with him, talking to him, sharing glances and smiles and private jokes.
She had plenty of opportunities, because as his bodyguard, she had to shadow him everywhere, often hidden by one of Liam’s shielding spells. With Branwyn and Aislyn still in the Mageverse, he had to manage his media empire, DCN, and the Donovan foundation. It was fascinating to watch him in action. She was impressed by the cool, razor-keen intelligence Conal brought to complex problems, the firm patience he showed employees, the steely way he handled competitors even when they were obviously trying to push his buttons.
Then there were the death threats. They came in via his Twitter feed, his Insta, and his email, many of them unhinged and graphic enough to make Helena twitch. True, most of them sounded like they came from mortals rather than Siobhan, but death threats were death threats. Conal merely shrugged and handed them off to the security team he had keeping track of his personal asshole collection.
Helena would dearly have liked to show up at the homes of a few of the pricks to give them a taste of their own medicine. You like death threats? Let me show you a death threat. See these teeth? Want to get a really close look?
Conal vetoed that idea, much to the disappointment of both Helena and Liam. He’d eyed her. “I think the Burning Moon is getting to you.” He wasn’t wrong. It was all beginning to wear on Helena as she evaluated every room Conal walked into, mentally plotting escape routes. As he calmly fielded calls and handled problems, she lurked invisibly, senses on alert for the magical signature of an opening dimensional gate, or the scent of an approaching werewolf. It was all rather nerve-racking. But the sex was outstanding.
* * *
After a week of that, Conal decided they deserved a night out. He took her dancing, both of them wearing glamour spells in order to go unrecognized. She lost herself in his arms, in the grace of his hard body, desire sliding through hers as their hips rocked together.
Afterward he took her to one of Manhattan’s more exclusive restaurants. They sampled an exquisite tasting menu that entranced Helena’s werewolf senses as she sampled each delicacy. The way Conal’s eyes met hers as he fed her tidbits only added to the sensuality of the experience.
By the time they left for the walk back to Conal’s Acura NSX, her body was all but humming with anticipation. They could have had a valet park the car, of course, but it was a nice night. Anyway, given the spell Liam cast on the Acura, any car thief who cast a covetous eye on it would instantly get the urge to go elsewhere -- in a hurry.
So they sauntered back toward the car, Conal’s hand wrapped around her left. Helena smiled up at him, unable to resist the heat in his gaze. He looked impossibly handsome in his black shirt and slacks, his hair a fall of darkness, Essus bright as a parrot on his shoulder. “Just wait until I get you home,” he told her, his voice an erotic purr.
“Promises, promises.” She flashed him a hot grin as they turned into the alley where the Acura was parked.
“Oh, I always keep my…”
Magic! A blast of it, lighting up her senses as gates opened at the other end of the alley.
“Incoming!” Liam snapped as she jerked her hand from Conal’s, drew the gun god, and snatched magic from the Mageverse, letting it pour over her body. A breath later, her red silk dress vanished, replaced by black fur, and Liam filled her hands in shotgun form.
From the corner of one eye, she saw Conal draw Darkbane, the big blade blazing violet light as Essus launched off his shoulder and burst into flame, winging toward the Sidhe who had appeared at the other end of the alley.
There were five of them, fully armored, helmets concealing their faces, the blue glow of magical shields surrounding them. No werewolves. That made it easier. She threw Conal a glance. He looked grim, blade spilling light over his big body. He gave her a hard, reckless smile, no fear in it at all.
“One night out,” Helena growled, starting toward them with Liam at the ready. “All I wanted was one night out, and you assholes ruined…”
A shadow blocked out the moon. She glanced up. “Helena!” Liam barked. Something huge and incredibly heavy slammed into her head like a falling safe. Light exploded across her vision. And then there was nothing but darkness.
* * *
Something heavy hit the ground with a meaty thud that cut off a startled cry. A troll roared in triumph. Essus broke off his attack on the leading Sidhe warrior and banked to dart back up the alley, his heart hammering, his feathers thunder and flame. When he saw what lay at the other end, horror iced his soul.
A huge armored troll crouched on top of Helena, who lay sprawled in dire wolf form under the thing’s big booted feet, obviously out cold. Better than eight feet tall, the troll was all scarred emerald muscle, yellowed tusks jutting from his bulldog jaw, orange eyes cold with cruelty under thick green brows. The cartilage of his pointed ears wore rows of piercings that swung with tiny gems -- a troll gesture of arrogance, as if nobody would dare rip them off in a fight. His hair grew in a patchy irregular pattern on the gleaming green bulge of his skull, like lichen on a rock. Tooled leather armor strained over his bulk, and he carried a massive axe in one immense hand.
“Helena!” Conal shouted, a note of anguished fear in his voice.
Essus threw a quick glance to the side and saw his friend wielding Darkbane in great whirling arcs, forcing five Sidhe attackers to maintain a wary distance.
“Essus!” Liam screamed, sounding frantic.
Essus whipped his head around and spotted the gun god lying beside a discarded pizza box, as if knocked there when the troll plowed into Helena. He was in the form of that huge misshapen shotgun.
“Olwydd, get that gun!” one of the Sidhe roared. The troll sprang off Helena and scrambled for the gun. Essus wheeled and darted toward Liam, pouring power into his feathers until fire roared from them like tiny jet engines. If Olwydd got to the gun first, they were all fucked. “Shift!” he screeched, swooping for the big shotgun. No way he could get that blunderbuss off the ground.
“I can’t!” Liam yelled.
Oh, hell, somebody has to be touching him. Essus hit the gun just ahead of the troll. Even as his claws closed around Liam, magic exploded around the enormous weapon. A heartbeat later, he was a stiletto. Essus threw himself and the knife into the sky, barely dodging a swat of an enormous green hand.
Do something! Liam bellowed in his mind. Just where Essus didn’t want the bastard.
I am! He swooped at the troll, tucking his feet so close, the magical blade felt ice cold against his burning feathered chest. The troll ducked, whirled, and ran back toward Helena, a shield spell glowing blue around him. Essus pursued him at top speed. Olwydd would have to drop the shield to grab Helena. The timing would be uncomfortably tight. He intensified his flame into a howling roar that sounded louder than he’d ever heard it. Liam, feeding him even more energy.