A Kiss Of Shadows   ::   Гамильтон Лорел

Sholto held Doyle's limp body in his tentacles and raised the sword in a two-handed overhead plunge, like you'd use to drivea knife into someone's chest. I was behind Doyle as the sword started down. I curled my body over his, one hand upraised, my gaze never leaving that glittering blade. I had a heartbeat to wonder if Sholto would stop in time, then he reversed the sword and held it pointed at the ceiling.

"What are you doing, Meredith?"

"He's here to save me, not kill me."

"He is the queen's Darkness. If she desires your death, he will be her instrument."

"But he has Mortal Dread, one of her personal weapons. He carried her mark in his body to give to me. If you'll calm down long enough to look with more than just your eyes, you'll see it."

Sholto blinked at me, then frowned. "Then why would she send me to kill you? Even for Andais that makes no sense."

"If you'll stop strangling him, maybe we can figure it out."

He looked down at Doyle's limp body, still hanging from the tentacles, and said, "Oh," as if he'd forgotten he was still squeezing the life from the other man. Technically, you couldn't strangle a sidhe to death, but I'd never been comfortable testing the limits of immortality. You never knew when you'd find a chink in the armor big enough to die through.

Sholto uncurled his limbs from Doyle, and the other man fell into my arms, his weight driving me to my knees. I wasn't losing enough blood for this much weakness. It was either shock or something to do with using a hand of power for the first time. Whatever was causing it, I wanted to close my eyes and rest, and that just wasn't going to be happening.

I sat on the floor, cradling Doyle's head in my lap. The pulse in his neck was strong, steady, but he did not wake. He took two quick breaths, then his head threw back, eyes wide, and he took a great gasp of air. He sat up coughing. I saw him tense, and Sholto must have, too, because the sword was suddenly pointed at Doyle's face.

Doyle froze, staring up at the other man. "Finish it."

"No one is finishing anything," I said.

Neither man looked at me. I couldn't see Doyle's expression, but I could see Sholto's, and I did not like what I saw. Anger, satisfaction—he wanted to kill Doyle, it was there on his face plain to see.

"Doyle saved me, Sholto. He saved me from your sluagh."

"If you had not warded the door, I would have been here in time," Sholto said.

"If I had not warded the door, you would have been in time to mourn over my dead body, but not in time to save me."

Sholto still wouldn't take his gaze from Doyle.