Sharon Ashwood - Unchained

Ashe met Grandma’s eyes, and guessed by her expression that she was thinking along the same lines. “Holly’s our best magical weapon, but she said her mojo is still wonky. Any idea when she’ll be back to normal?”

“Soon. It usually takes a month or two after the baby is born before a witch’s powers recover. In the meantime, Alessandro will look after Holly. You take care of yourself and Eden. Protect your family. Stake half the damned vampires in town if you have to.”

Rambo Grandma. Great. “It’s not going to be that easy. I’m looking at a custody case. Hunting monsters isn’t an approved single- mom occupation. Even if I fly under that radar, the vamps like their revenge. I’m afraid that if I make a move, it’ll put Eden in danger.”

“Then let me be your sword,” Reynard offered, leaning forward across the table. The dim light of the dining room darkened his eyes and pared any trace of softness from his face. He was all sharp angles. Granite with an edge of steel. “There is no reason for you to risk yourself or your daughter. Not while I am here.”

But you won’t be here for long. “You’ve got your own problems.”

“It’s the least a gentleman can do.” He gave a sardonic smile. “Besides, I thought we agreed to help each other.”

Ashe sat back in her chair, feeling a sudden need for distance. This was too much, too soon. “I said I’d help you. I don’t hunt with a partner. Never have, never will.”

She looked him straight in the eyes, determined to make her point. She saw a flicker of what might have been hurt; then his gaze became hard and gray as the stones of the Castle walls. He’d taken her refusal as a personal rejection. Annoyance burned through her stomach. Great. Like I have time to soothe wounded male egos.

“Mo-o-o-om!” Eden bawled from the living room.

The air around the adults’ table suddenly felt brittle with tension. The interruption only cranked it up three notches.

Ashe took a shaking breath before she called out, “Hark, I hear the sweet tones of the Princess Eden!”

“May I have more dessert, please?”

Good grammar emerged only when Eden wanted something. “Come and get it.”

“But I’m reading!”

“Then leave your eyeballs there.”

“Mo-o-om!” This time disgust.

Ashe made a face. She was pulled in too many directions.

“I’ll take it to her.” Reynard stood up with a cool glance at Ashe, impatience in every line of his body. He shoved a slice of the chocolaty dessert onto a plate and stalked away from the table.

Grandma shot Ashe a caustic look. “You really know how to win friends and influence people.”

“Whatever,” Ashe muttered.

“He’d be a good partner. He looks like he’s broken a few rules in his time. You don’t end up an immortal in a dungeon by doing nothing but crossword puzzles.”

“I don’t want a partner. You have to be responsible for a partner. I don’t need that.”

“Why not?”

Ashe sat back and folded her arms. “When I’ve done such a good job with the other people in my life?” Like Mom and Dad and Roberto . . .

“Take his help, Ashe. He’s a big boy. He can handle himself.”

“How much can I rely on a guy who’s on a ticking clock?”

“It’s clear from one look that he thinks the world of you.”

“Is that enough?”

“You’re pushing him back into his stone cell.”

“Damned straight, I am. With his urn. He’ll live that way.”

Grandma toyed with her coffee cup. “If you don’t want my advice, then why are you here?”

“I do need help. I need a shoulder to cry on.”

Grandma raised her eyebrows. “Besides the obvious, what’s the matter?”

“Everything,” Ashe said in a low voice. “Like I said, it’s one thing to be flying solo when it’s pouring vamps and demons.”

Grandma took a swallow of coffee, taking her time. “But the stakes are higher with your family around.”

“I’m damn near paralyzed. I can’t afford to make a mistake. The last time the monster posse showed up I had to send Eden away.”

“So think like a slayer, not a soccer mom. You need to go on the offensive and get ahead of the game. Get them before they have time to make another move.”

Ashe set her coffee mug on the table with an audible thump. She was pulled in too many directions to think straight anymore. “But that’s the whole problem. I can’t kick every ass that needs kicking anymore. Yes, I hate that. I actually like hunting. But changing who I am gives me a life that includes my daughter, and I’m not sorry. There is nothing I won’t do for her.”

Grandma shoved her plate away, the corners of her mouth pulling down. “The world does not run on absolutes. Your role in our family is as a protector. That doesn’t mean you never get to be a Norman Rockwell mother. You just can’t be one right now. Slay now; make tuna casserole later. Do both. Be versatile. It’s the way of the modern woman.”

“That sounds pretty simplistic.”

“Because it is. If Fairview’s not safe, Eden’s not safe. The question’s not whether you’re going to clean up this mess, but when you’re going to get busy and do it. What are your options? Let the bad vampires run amok? Send the demon a housewarming basket? The list of people who can deal with this sort of thing is very short, and you’re at the top. If you’re worried about safety, stay with Holly. That house is a magical fortress.”

Ashe gave a single, reluctant nod. She hated sleeping in her childhood home. It held too many memories, but if things got bad, she could suck it up. “There’s still the whole custody thing. I have to do this entirely under the radar.”

“I understand. We’ll cover you.”

“We?”

“Me, Holly, Alessandro. Your family. We’ll figure out how.”

Ashe was shaking her head before Grandma finished talking. “I can’t put that burden on you.”

“Damn it, Ashe, if you want things to get easier, you have to change. Learn to accept a helping hand!”

Reynard was furious. She cannot refuse my assistance. It’s not reasonable. Clearly she could see he was more than capable. They’d killed two vampires together. But there was nothing reasonable about Ashe Carver. She was all will and steel.

There was no possibility that she was better off without his help, and her resistance brought his own will—and, to be honest, his pride—into focus.

She could tell him he wasn’t welcome. That did not mean he would accept her refusal. Ever. He hadn’t survived centuries in the Castle by giving in. He had learned how to bide his time. If he had to, he would simply outsmart her.

The idea curled through him like a plume of incense, part inspiration and part nostalgia for the Reynard who had stalked the drawing rooms of yore. How pleasurable those days had been. Their sweet nostalgia lingered like a perfume. He had been a master with the women of his time. Surely he could handle one of their descendants in much the same way. For Ashe’s own good, of course.

At least until he fell off his perch, he thought sardonically.

His inner conversation stopped dead when he saw Eden. The child was curled into a ball on the sofa, book clutched to her chest. Her brown eyes were wide. He set the plate on the small table beside her.

She just kept looking at him, as if she were expecting something more. Reynard’s inner rake vaporized like a wisp of smoke, vanishing into the wiser, harder man.

“Is there something else you desire?” he asked gently.

Her gaze shifted toward the dining room, where Ashe and her grandmother were arguing in low, tight tones. “I thought Mom would come,” she said in a small voice.

She hadn’t wanted the cake; she’d wanted her mother. Something is wrong.