The Royal Hunter Part 15

"Why don't you keep more of them for your own?"

The question caught her off guard. "What?"

He waved a hand to the land surrounding the house and the house itself.

"Since you have all this s.p.a.ce and feel as you do about rescuing the unwanted, I figured you'd have adopted a gaggle of them yourself."

"Why all this concern about my life habits?"

He shrugged, but the intensity had returned. "I have to be alert to anything out of the ordinary. To understand that, I have to understand what ordinary is." He said it matter-of-factly, but his eyes told a different story. He wasn't merely making conversation. "Studying you and your setup here has left me with questions."

She took a different tack. Let him answer some questions. "Speaking of animals, what happened to your dog?"

He looked totally blank for a second. "My dog?" Then his expression cleared.

"You mean Ringer."

"Yes, I believe that is what you called him once before. What was he? Some sort of convenient prop you used to meet me? And now that you've accomplished your invasion into my life, he is of no further use to you? What did you do to him, send him back to the future to fend for himself?"

"Send Ringer back to fend for himself?" He said it as though he couldn't believe he'd heard her right. "I wouldn't do that." His shock was so sincere she had to believe him.

Her soft heart swelled. Just a little. "What did you expect me to think? I haven't seen him since that day at the Lodge." Why was she on the defensive again?

"I didn't think it was your concern. You have enough mongrels to deal with,

don't you, now?"Rather than being stung by his brush-off, she was intrigued. He seemed a bit... disconcerted.

Evasive even. Interesting. "You had no problem sticking your nose in my affairs. Where is he?"

Archer actually shifted his weight ever so slightly. He waved a hand, striving

for a casualness she now knew he didn't entirely feel. "Round and about. Likes to go on walkabout that one does."

"He's running loose?" Archer propped his hands on his hips. "Well, he's not exactly a threat to the wildlife or the population in general. And it's not like you don't have room for him to roam a bit. He doesn't get much chance to run like this at home. I thought it would do him good."

"I'm not worried what trouble he'll make, I'm worried about the trouble that might find him, you idiot." Archer's eyebrows lifted at that one, but she continued on. "I don't know how they handle pet ownership in Australia, or in Britain, or... or wherever you're from, but here we are required to keep a handle on our pets. So they don't end up needing my services. Or worse. There are natural predators out there, ones he might not be familiar with."

"Trust me, Ringer can fend for himself quite well." He folded his arms, no longer seeming off balance. "Where I come from," he said, almost mockingly, "predators are a part of daily living. If he can make it there, I'm certain he can handle anything here. Ringer has a well-developed instinct for self-preservation."

She shook her head in disgust. "When was the last time you saw him? How is he being fed? Are you sure he's okay?" Laughing, Archer stepped forward and lightly grasped her hands. He tugged her closer to him. It seemed an entirely natural gesture, as did the v/ay she sort of fell against him, their body parts all aligning so perfectly. It actually took her breath away.

"I think I just figured out why you don't have animals in the house." There was nowhere to look but up into his dancing black eyes. Her breath caught in her chest. "I have a cat. Marble," she managed.

"That's not a real pet."

"You want to tell him that? All twenty-eight pounds of him?"

"The way I hear it, he was Beatrice's beast and, from the looks of him, quite

able to take care of himself. I imagine he'd do just fine without you." He moved even closer, tipping her head farther back. "But he chooses to stay with you." He leaned down. "Wise choice, I'd say."

Her breath caught the instant before his mouth covered hers. She'd known his intent, had seen it clearly in his dark eyes. But she hadn't shoved him away, she hadn't done any of the smart things some part of her mind should have screamed at her to do.

She swiftly realized that she didn't need to worry about connecting to his feelings again. She was too busy wallowing in her own. The incredible warmth of his lips on hers, how firm they were, how well they matched hers, how they seemed to know her, as if he'd kissed her a thousand times before. It was glorious, intoxicating, wondrous. And extremely dangerous.

That last part was what made her pull away. Still, she wanted to reach up and touch her mouth. It felt like something foreign, strangely alive when she hadn't even known it had been lying dormant all this time.

"They take it from you, don't they, Tali?" he asked quietly, his gaze steady on hers. She felt as if he were the one looking into her soul. When she looked away, he drew the tip of his finger along the side of her cheek, then along the lips he'd just thoroughly imprinted with his own. "You can't have them under your own roof all the time because you feel too much of them, and it drains you. They tug at your strength, your heart, all the time." He tipped up her chin and she chided herself for the gla.s.sy surface she knew he'd find in her eyes. "I

didn't mean to upset you. I only wanted to understand you. I think maybe I do. A little bit more at any rate."Her senses reeled. "Archer, I-""Time to finish my rounds."

"But-"

He dropped his mouth to hers for one last hard kiss. "I want you to head in."

He left her, moving back to the fence, which he leaped over as effortlessly as he'd done earlier.

She wanted to be angry that he'd come to understand her so clearly. Especially the part of her she'd kept locked away the farthest. She did good work here, satisfying and important. Yet there was a part of her that had always felt some lingering guilt. That she hadn't been strong enough to put her abilities to use more directly.

Archer was the first one to make her feel like it was okay. The first one to

truly understand why she'd chosen the path she had. And accept it.

She stared at his retreating back as she ran her fingers over her lips. He said he'd only intruded because he'd been curious about her. Well, d.a.m.n it, she was curious about him now, too. There had been secrets in his eyes, secrets she wanted to uncover, just as he had hers.

Chapter 8.

Archer resisted the urge to slam his fist through the wall. Just barely. "What do you mean you don't know where the h.e.l.l she is? She's supposed to be in here with you."

Baleweg didn't so much as flinch. As always, he was maddeningly serene. "She chose to skip our lesson this afternoon, and considering how badly distracted she was this morning, I thought it best to allow her time to herself." Baleweg studied Archer closely. "You wouldn't, perhaps, know the cause of her distraction?"

Archer opened his mouth to tell him he had no idea what was going through Talia's mind since she hadn't seen fit to speak to him since he'd kissed her last night. But he wasn't ready to discuss that with Baleweg. That is, if the old codger didn't already know it. He wondered if Talia had told him... or if he'd figured it out for himself. Either way, he wasn't about to go there at the moment.

"Didn't you think it best to inform me? You're the one who insisted I stay for protection." He shoved a kitchen chair so it clattered against the table. "I can hardly be expected to do that when the people I'm supposed to protect go wandering off without warning, now can I?" He was angry at Baleweg, but most of his anger was self-directed. He shouldn't have gone off looking for Ringer. But he'd thought Talia was safe with Baleweg in the tower.

And no matter what she said, he wasn't cavalier about maintaining his pet ownership. He'd never really thought about it that way anyway. He and Ringer were simply mates who happened to be stuck with each other for a time. He was truly happy Ringer was having such a grand time here. He had his freedom and could change at will if threatened. He certainly never felt any little twinges when he wondered if the beastie might be better off here than back in his own time.

All of this did little to explain his alarm this morning when he'd had no luck finding the little b.u.g.g.e.r in his usual haunts about the pond and in the marshes. It did even less to explain his total lack of professionalism in leaving his post to pursue the matter. That he still hadn't located Ringer didn't help, either.

He drew in a deep breath. "Did she say where she went off to?" Her truck was out front, so she couldn't have gone far. But he still didn't like having her out of his sight.

"I believe she went to the kennels to see after some business, then catch up with paperwork. There are other workers out there and someone would have signaled if anything was amiss."

"I've just come from the kennels. She's not there, or in her office." Baleweg's bushy white brows furrowed, but there was no real concern in his eyes. "Perhaps she took a stroll around the pond. It's a pleasant enough day for it. And I daresay she could use the s.p.a.ce." Archer's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "s.p.a.ce? We're here to help her find her healing powers, or you are, and I'm here supposedly to keep her safe while you do it, which means containing her within boundaries I can monitor. And you daresay she could use some s.p.a.ce?"

Baleweg's fleeting concern vanished, replaced by an annoyingly contemplative expression. "You have crowded her a bit of late."

Archer ground his back teeth. "We've been here too long already. With Dideon's return, Chamberlain now knows we're here. He has to be planning something else to thwart us. Every second that ticks away puts the queen in

greater jeopardy, therefore upping the odds against Talia. I'm merely doing the job you insist I do."

Baleweg nodded, then looked away for a moment, but it was a telling one.

"What aren't you telling me?" Archer demanded. "I know about Emrys, if

that's what's bothering you."

"Talia told you."

"I'd have rather had it from you. He's the one aiding Chamblerlain, right? Any

other surprises I might need to know about?"

Baleweg shook his head, but didn't look remotely abashed.

"Let me go back and deal with him."

Baleweg merely shook his head. "You will not be dealing with the likes of

him. Leave that to me." He lifted his hand to stall Archer's reb.u.t.tal. "I will not discuss him with you other than to say that I can feel the continuum quite clearly here and there has been no disturbance in it of late."

"I say we both go back. You can deal with this Emrys directly and I will deliver Talia safely to the queen. Then we'll wash our hands of it." Even as he said it, he realized he couldn't imagine walking away from her now.

Everything was far more complicated than when he'd stepped through that d.a.m.ned triangle on Baleweg's roof. He hated complications.

"Talia isn't ready to return. And for now it is best that you deal with any threat Emrys might provoke from here."

"Then you should be holed up in the tower with her right now, preparing her, not giving her the day off to wander to G.o.d knows where!" Baleweg smiled pleasantly now. "Then perhaps rather than standing here haranguing me, you should set out about the pond and look for her, hmm?"

Archer's fingers curled inward, and he ruthlessly bit off several epithets as he walked to the door. He paused there long enough to point a finger toward Baleweg. "If anything has happened to her, it will be on your head, old man."

He was out the door when he heard the satisfied tone in Baleweg's voice as he said, "How very interesting." Archer crossed the drive and took off down the path, trying hard to block out the old man's parting shot. He was doing his job. Nothing more, nothing less. A queen's ransom was riding on this and he'd be d.a.m.ned if some black-hearted Parliamentarian's mystic lackey was going to screw him out of it. Baleweg was being awfully closed-mouthed about this Emrys, but Archer knew the old man well enough to know that badgering him would yield nothing until he was ready to talk. He flexed his fingers. Fine. Let Emrys send another mark through time, he thought. He'd handle them all, do whatever he had to in order to buy Talia enough time to be fully prepared for what lay in store for her with the queen.

He was jogging by the time he got to the shed. The odd hat she'd been wearing that first day he'd met her out here was gone, as was the walking stick. Of course he was worried about her, he thought as he picked up speed, but he was being paid to worry. If he'd been a bit tighter in his surveillance, it had nothing whatsoever to do with that fact that he'd tasted her now. Or that he'd dreamed of tasting her again.

Of course, it had been a while since he'd dallied. That was likely the reason for his preoccupation. After all, she was the only woman above twenty-one and below seventy in these parts; naturally a man's mind would turn to that if he spent enough time in her presence. He continued around the curve of the pond, ducking and swatting at the scrub brush that was beginning to stretch its late-spring growth across the path. His thoughts continued just as doggedly.

It wasn't as if she did anything to draw a eye man's. Her clothes could, at best, be described as baggy and serviceable. He knew firsthand there were feminine curves beneath it, yet you'd never know to look at her. Her dark hair was as often as not stuffed up beneath a hat or yanked into a messy ponytail. Her face was forever clean of anything smacking of female artifice-she didn't even darken her lashes or smear color on her lips. He stumbled and cursed as a th.o.r.n.y swatch caught him on the cheek.

Okay, okay, so she didn't need painting up. Especially those lips. And perhaps she could maintain a pretty decent level of conversation, that is, a.s.suming she kept her tongue civil. But he'd observed her with Stella enough to know she had a fair bit of wit tucked in with all that intelligence. Of course, he wasn't the least bit put out that she didn't often, if ever, care to share that smiling wit with him. No, far too often he earned the sharper side of her tongue.

And G.o.d help the man who wanted to wind his way past all that to try and steal a kiss. How he'd managed such a thing he now had no idea. She seemed more distant to him than ever. Which angered him all over again. s.p.a.ce. She needed s.p.a.ce, did she? Well, wasn't that all she'd G.o.dd.a.m.n had for the past twenty-eight years of her life? Was it honestly all that much to ask for her to tolerate his existence for a few days? It wasn't as if he were sniffing about her, trying to paw her or anything.