Heart's Desire
Book 3
Chapter 1
Ten years later
"Change!" With effortless ease, Eri shifted from a girl into a Hound. "See? It's easy. I can do it--why can't you?"
Malachi shook his head. You don't understand. Our Master-- He never got a chance to finish. Eri reached out, touched his forehead, and Gabriel's bindings melted away.
The stone floor was much colder against human skin than the fur of a Hound. Malachi choked in a breath, his chest tight with terror. How long would it take Gabriel to realize he had shifted shape?
"Malachi?" Eri's voice was uncommonly grave. A blanket--the blanket from her bed--drifted down to cover him, and Malachi glanced up to see Eri's wide blue eyes staring down at him. Her lower lip quivered as she sank down on her knees. "Oh, Malachi--I'm sorry--"
No hue and cry had risen; the bond still rested easily in the back of Malachi's mind. Before Gabriel realized what had happened, Malachi shifted back into the form of a Hound and fled to the sound of Eri's soft sobs.
He did not go far, of course, and he should have realized Gabriel would find out one way or another.
A few minutes later, Malachi heard Gabriel's footsteps in the hall, and then his voice, soft and questioning.
Malachi closed his eyes, shivering from the aftershock of what Eri had so easily removed. He could shift now, without constraints, and escape out the window, perhaps, before his Master discovered what Eri had done, but where would he go?
"My daughter is crying and I cannot console her," Gabriel said from the doorway. "She claims she hurt you."
She did not hurt me, my lord. Malachi tried to keep the fear from his thoughts, but the transformation had shaken him. That she could so easily push the bindings away! But-- There was no easy way to admit what had happened, and he could not keep it a secret. With a heavy heart, dizzy and sick, he shifted shape, kneeling naked in front of his Master.
"She--She took away your bindings, my lord," He spoke softly, his gaze on the floor, unmindful of the cold stone against his naked flesh. "I did not ask her to--I swear--"
"Eri did this?" Before Malachi could think to flinch out of the way, Gabriel had knelt in front of him, one hand on Malachi's forehead and the other cupping his chin. "Hold still."
Malachi froze as the bond flared to life inside his mind. "My lord--"
"Hush. Hold still." Gabriel's voice held no fury at all. "She is only ten years old--she doesn't realize what she has done."
Something shifted inside Malachi's mind--a reorganization of sorts that left him no less shaken, but much less dazed. By the time Gabriel withdrew his hands, Malachi had almost fallen asleep.
Dimly, he realized Gabriel had lifted him up and carried him over to the bed.
"Sleep," Gabriel ordered when Malachi tried to open his eyes. "You may have a headache when you wake up. I'll--I'll speak to Eri."
"My lord--" Malachi struggled out of the depths of darkness and tried to find his Master's presence.
"Sleep," Gabriel said, with only a thread of warning in his voice.
"Don't--Don't punish her--"
Gabriel laughed. "Oh, don't worry about that. I think she's punished herself quite enough."
The past ten years had been--educating. Coping with Josiah's loss and raising a child at the same time had strained Gabriel's nerves to the breaking point time and time again, but in the end, they all had survived to this point, and grown a bit wiser as time passed. His love for both his daughter and his Lady had blossomed, bringing with it a curious guilt when his thoughts turned to his Hounds.
Now, with Emle pregnant again and another daughter due in the coming weeks, his guilt had doubled. His Hounds--His Hounds were not children. But they were part of his family, for want of a better word, and they deserved--they deserved to be rewarded for their loyalty.
He had not--yet--told Emle that they had any other shape than the one she knew them in. Now, thanks to Eri, he truly had no choice.
"I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't know--" Eri's voice trailed away, no doubt when she saw Malachi asleep in the bed. "Did I hurt him badly?"
"Not badly," Gabriel said, turning to face her. "But I put those constraints on my Hounds for a reason, Erianthe. Especially Malachi."
Eri hung her head. "I only wanted--"
"You wanted him to be able to shift, like you," Gabriel said, and wondered if he dared approach Lucas about training his daughter. If she could just wipe away his constraints at ten years of age, what would she be able to do by the time she turned twenty?
Eri nodded. "I didn't know he wasn't allowed. He tried to tell me--"
"I know he did," Gabriel said. "Why don't we let him rest? We can talk in the library."
"I'm--"
Gabriel ruffled Eri's fine hair. "I know you're sorry. Malachi will be fine when he wakes up. I promise you that." He hesitated. "And I won't stop you from apologizing to him, if you wish."
For the first time in almost two hours, Eri managed to smile. "I'm glad," she said. "I never meant to hurt him."
"I know," Gabriel said, and led her across the hall to the library, where they could talk in peace, but Emle was already there, seated in one of the leather-clad chairs, with a book propped on her protruding stomach.
For a second, Gabriel could only stare at her, lost in her beauty.
"If I may have a moment of your time?" She smiled when she saw Eri, but her smile didn't last long when she saw that their daughter's eyes were puffy and red. "What's wrong?"
Gabriel did not miss Eri's desperate glance. "Perhaps it would be best for me to tell you," he said to save his daughter an awkward explanation. "Or show you, in truth. But you needed to speak with me?"
"I'll go outside," Eri said, as if she had picked something up from her mother's mood; something Gabriel could not see. She vanished from his side before he could protest, shifting into the form of a lithe young Hound.
"I didn't ask her to leave," Emle said. "But I did wish to speak with you alone."
She seemed oddly hesitant to speak her question, or whatever she wanted. Was something wrong? "Are you well?" Gabriel asked, thinking that she hadn't mentioned anything that morning.
Emle smiled. "Yes. I am well. And the baby is fine, as far as I can tell. But--Our child is due in two weeks, Gabriel."
"I know. The Council's binding is set to expire in two weeks as well." That had preyed on his mind more than the impending birth of his second child.
"Are you intending to deliver her?" Emle asked, and this time, Gabriel could hear the exasperation in her voice.
"I--" In truth, he had not thought of that. "No, of course not. But--" How would that work? No one knew he was Eri's father--he had not kept them in hiding, but he had taken pains not to make his tiny family a target. Emle had not stepped beyond the wards for many months, and Eri only ventured out in the form of a Hound, where her presence would be least likely to attract any notice.
"Sennet delivered Eri," Emle said, taking pity on him. "I am certain she would not mind aiding me again."
"I had hoped to see this daughter born," Gabriel said, suddenly struck by the sickening feeling that something horrible would happen to prevent that. "I--"
"Sennet is a Healer, and neutral," Emle said.
"She can't come here--" An aeon of distrust rose to encompass his thoughts. He turned away from her, distress clouding his mind. All Magdalen needed was to find out about Emle and Eri's existence--not to mention his unborn daughter--and she would have plenty of leverage to force him to bind himself to her.
Unless she was dead, but he had no way to find out if she had perished in the last century. He had not seen her since the Council's binding had kept him from her grasp.
"I can go to her," Emle offered. "At first, at least--just to request her services. After the Council's binding expires, it won't matter, will it?"
Gabriel had never told her about Magdalen. "I don't know," he said, helpless in the face of her request. "My Hunt--I--have other enemies." He tried to smile. "There is much you do not yet know about my Hunt, milady."
When he glanced at her, Emle's face showed no surprise. "Yes. I know. But I have not pushed you to tell me anything."
And she hadn't. "Perhaps you should have," Gabriel whispered. "I can't allow you to go alone. Not now, when--" He wanted to tell her everything, but now was not the time. "When the Council's binding is so close to expiring."
"I understand that you can't go with me," Emle said. "Not at first. I'd take a Hound, but they're rather--recognizable."
Gabriel froze. "What did you say?" His voice came out harsher than he intended.
Emle stepped back. "I--I said I understood that you--"
"No. After that." Gabriel controlled his temper with an effort. This was not Emle's fault.
"I said I could take a Hound, but--"
Gabriel closed his eyes. Would Malachi-- He pushed that thought out of his head. Could he trust Malachi after what had happened when Josiah vanished? Did he have a choice?
"There is much you don't know about my Hunt, milady." He took a deep breath. This was not the way to tell her, but he couldn't see another way around breaking the news. "You could take a Hound."
He sensed her confusion, even before she spoke. "What do you mean?"
"My Hounds--My Hounds were not born in the shapes they wear," Gabriel said, turning back to the window. It was easier to bear this confession if he didn't have to see her face.
"I know," Emle said. "I've heard the stories." Her voice held no blame; no recriminations for his long-ago sins.
"But you don't know that they need not stay as Hounds," Gabriel said. "Before you returned--ten years ago--I had let them have a bit of freedom. Today, our daughter removed my bindings and allowed one of my Hounds to shift."
He turned just in time to steady Emle as she swayed. "Our daughter did this?" Guilt flashed into her gaze. "I never thought to ask about your Hounds--"
Gabriel held her close. "I did not wish to tell you." Softly, he told her about Josiah's disappearance, and what he had done in response to it. "Perhaps I acted wrongly, but that was the best--the only--thing I could think to do at the time."
He left out Darkbrook, and everything that pertained to a Hound as a student of magic. That could come later. For now, all she had to do was understand.
"And now? One of your Hounds is in human form?" It did not take long for Emle to grasp what had happened. "What will you do with him? Force him back into the form of a Hound?"
Gabriel sighed. "No," he said, and hoped he was making the right decision. "I don't think so. But Malachi will go with you to the Healer's house, or meet her somewhere in the forest, and you can ask her your request. All I ask--All I ask is that you try to keep my name from her knowing, at least for now."
"What if Malachi doesn't want to go?" Emle asked.
That old anger bristled in Gabriel's chest. "He will not have a choice."
Emle stepped out of his arms. "If your Hounds are to be part of this family, then they must have a choice," she said. "If Malachi doesn't want to take me, then don't force him, Gabriel. Please--promise me that."
Gabriel turned his back to her again. "You don't understand," he whispered. "They have no choice."
"They won't have a choice if you don't give it to them," Emle said gently. "Where is he?"
"In the bedroom, down the hall," Gabriel said, struck by the truth of her words. Was it that simple? "Asleep."
"I will wait until he wakens," Emle said. "And then I will ask him."
She was gone before he could respond to that; and the room darkened in her absence. After a moment, Gabriel followed her into the bedroom, almost dreading the look on her face when she saw Malachi in human form.
He had not mistreated his Hounds in the past ten years. He had not beaten them, or forced them to do much of anything at all. But he was still their Master, and sometimes, that seemed worse than any beating ever did.
Emle stood for a moment, staring at Malachi's pale face. "He'll need clothes," she said, her voice stiff and formal.
"I will find him clothes," Gabriel whispered. "And I will cut his hair." And before she could lose her temper, he fled, leaving them alone in the room.
Trusting that Malachi wouldn't do anything stupid. Hoping that Malachi wouldn't betray such trust again.
As soon as Gabriel left, Emle pulled up a chair beside the bed. Her hands shook; something she had taken pains not to allow Gabriel to see, but the first wash of panic had fled, leaving her drained and wondering what else he had never told her.
"I didn't mean to hurt him," Eri whispered from the doorway.
Without speaking, Emle held out her arms. Eri curled up on what little lap Emle had left and rested her head on her mother's breast.
"Did you know he could shift?" Emle asked, keeping all blame from her voice.
"No." Eri sighed. "Yes. I could feel that he wanted to, but I didn't know why he couldn't." She bit her lip. "He isn't going to be happy with me."
Emle remembered Gabriel's talk of choices, and wondered if Malachi would even consider daring to say no to anything his Master ordered him to do. "Perhaps things will change, now that we know. Gabriel said he wouldn't force Malachi to stay a Hound."
Malachi's eyes twitched open, then closed again, almost as if he didn't want to face whatever would come next. Emle watched as he curled one hand into a fist, then carefully explored the blanket that covered him.
Eri stiffened and slid off her lap. Before Emle could stop her, she had touched Malachi's hand.
His breath caught in his throat. It wasn't quite a growl, and he must have realized their presence before it actually left his lips, because he turned his head away and opened his eyes.
"Gabriel went to find you some clothes," Emle said, just in case that would help.
Malachi shivered. "Clothes?"
"And he said he would cut your hair, too."
A tear ran down the side of Malachi's face. He closed his eyes again, still shivering, and curled up in the bed.
"I'm sorry, Malachi," Eri whispered. "I didn't mean to hurt you." She touched his hand again, and this time, he did not flinch away.
"You--You didn't hurt me." He opened his eyes again, and wiped away the tears, glancing once at Emle with a bit of panic in his gaze.
"Gabriel told me what Eri did," Emle said, hoping to reassure him. "And I have a question for you, but it can wait until you've rested a bit."
"You can ask it, milady." The honorific sounded strange coming from Malachi's lips. He shifted in bed and brushed his hair out of his eyes.
There were scars across his skin, testament to a Hound's hard life, but nothing new; nothing fresh. And the look in his gaze spoke more of wariness than fear, but Emle had a feeling that would change when Gabriel returned.
"No. It can wait." She smiled at him, hoping to receive a smile back, but perhaps it was too soon. "Are you well? Is there anything you need?"
Malachi blinked, considering her question. "You said--You said he wouldn't force me to stay a Hound."
"That what he told me, yes." Emle expected him to be happy, or at least relieved, but he only seemed confused.
"My lord, I do not understand." Malachi's voice dropped to a whisper.
Emle knew about the Hunt's bond, and she knew that Eri could hear a portion of what they said through it. She envied her daughter for that; and envied the Hounds as well, because her interaction with Gabriel had to be verbal.
"The Council's binding ends in two weeks," Gabriel said from the doorway. He held a small pile of clothes and a pair of scissors in his hands. "And I did intend to keep my promise."
Emle glanced at Malachi, whose eyes were filled with tears. He started to speak, choked on his words, and turned away from them again, his shoulders shaking.
"He didn't believe you," Eri said somberly.
"Yes. I know." Gabriel's voice held no anger, but Malachi did not relax.
"Perhaps Eri and I should go," Emle offered, glancing at Gabriel for his reaction. "We can come back later--"
"No, please--" The pillow muffled Malachi's voice. "Don't go. I apologize--I--"
Gabriel moved from the doorway too quickly for Emle to track. He set the clothes and the scissors down on the bed, and knelt on the other side, gently touching the back of Malachi's head. "I told you that you might have a headache when you woke up."
"You did not say my head would feel as if has been torn in two," Malachi whispered, and even Gabriel smiled at that.
"It will pass; I promise you that," he said. "Food will help--I'm sure Eri would be happy to bring you something."
As far as Emle had ever seen, the Hounds scrounged for their own food in the forest. That meant Malachi was accustomed to whatever he could catch, not the stores of food they kept in the pantry.
"Tea?" Malachi whispered.
"And perhaps some of the soup I made last night," Emle suggested.
As soon as Eri had left on her errand, Malachi raised his head. "What of the others, my lord?"
Gabriel sighed. "They will be allowed to shift as well, I suppose. But let me cut your hair before Eri returns."
Malachi slid out of bed, taking the blanket with him, and stood in front of Gabriel, his back straight. His hair had a reddish tinge--almost mahogany, Emle thought; a beautiful color.
Malachi only quivered once when Gabriel approached with the scissors, as if he expected punishment instead of a simple haircut.
"Hold still," Gabriel said.
"Yes, my lord," Malachi whispered, but he flinched back as the scissors flashed.
"I said hold still," Gabriel repeated, a thread of irritation running through his voice.
"Yes, my lord."
Emle watched as the tangled mats of hair fell away, leaving Malachi looking a bit more civilized. There was no finesse to this haircut; the slightly ragged line fell just below Malachi's ears.
He turned as soon as Gabriel was finished. "You--You had a question to ask of me, milady?"
Gabriel had caught him with the scissors, right below his left eye, but he made no move to wipe away the trickle of blood.
"I am in need of an escort to the Healer Sennet's house," Emle said. "Gabriel said you might be willing--"
"Of course!" Malachi said. He wiped the blood from his cheek and frowned down at it.
"You don't have to go if you don't want to go," Gabriel said. "I would hold you responsible for Emle's safety, and the safety of our unborn daughter."
Malachi stiffened. "I know." He glanced back at Gabriel, almost wildly, and clutched the blanket around his shoulders. "I will bring her back unharmed, my lord. You can--You can trust me. I will not betray you."
From his tone of voice, Emle suspected that he had betrayed his Master before. But when? She put one hand on her stomach and felt the baby kick. "No one knows that I live here," she said, hoping to defuse the tension. "I could go alone."
"No." Malachi and Gabriel spoke as one.
"No," Gabriel continued as Malachi glanced down at his feet. "And you cannot be seen around Sennet's house, either. Malachi can ask her to accompany him to a neutral location."
"Is there a neutral location in the forest, my lord?" Malachi accepted the tea when Eri handed it to him, but had to sit down to drink it, lest he lose his blanket.
"I have to warm up the soup," Eri said. "I didn't think you would want it cold."
Malachi glanced at his Master before he spoke. "Thank you."
"There is a house in the forest that would do for our purposes," Gabriel said after a moment of watching Malachi drink. "The Council owns it, but no one lives there."
Malachi almost choked on his tea. "The Daulton house, my lord?"
"Sennet can meet Emle there," Gabriel said. "It is near the road, but far enough away from Council involvement so as not to raise their suspicions."
"I would--" The mug shook in Malachi's hand. "I would have to leave her alone, then, for a little while."
"I know."
Malachi closed his eyes and bowed his head over the mug in his hands. "If that is the only way--" he hesitated, then, as if struck by a thought. "Could someone else not come with us, my lord?" He rushed on in the face of Gabriel's silence. "That way I wouldn't have to leave her alone."
Emle wasn't sure Gabriel was open enough to the idea of the Hounds in human form to allow someone else to shift just yet. "I'll be fine," she said. "This is just a small meeting, nothing more. All I want to do is ask for Sennet's aid and make sure everything is--on schedule."
"I could go with you, Mama," Eri said with the innocence of a child.
"No!" Gabriel's eyes silvered--a true indication of his distress. "No," he said, and Emle could tell he struggled to keep his temper. "There is--very little chance that anything will happen."
Emle stroked her daughter's fine hair. "We'll be fine. And unless Sennet can't see me right away, we won't be gone for long."
"The soup will be ready by now," Eri said, glancing at her father, as if she expected him to punish her.
"I'm not hungry," Malachi said, then stared at her, stricken, when Eri's face crumpled into tears.
Gabriel sighed. "Malachi, eat." Without waiting for Malachi's reply, he gathered Eri into his arms. "It's getting late, and this has not been an easy evening for anyone. I did not intend for you to leave right away--you can wait until daylight, at least."
"Yes, my lord." Malachi stood, struggling to keep his blanket in place.
"You--ah--you can't go far wearing a blanket," Emle said.
Eri's tears turned to laughter in an instant. For a moment, Emle thought Malachi would laugh as well; his breath caught in his throat and he ducked his head down again, his hair falling to cover the expression on his face.
But when he spoke, his voice was soft and serious. "That is true, milady."
"Get dressed. Eat. And rest until it's time for you to go," Gabriel said. "It is far past Eri's bedtime as it is."
Emle thought Eri would protest, but she left with her father willingly enough, only glancing back once at Malachi.
"I will dish you out some soup," Emle said.
"Thank you," Malachi whispered, his head still bowed. He turned, then, to gather up the clothes, and the blanket slipped down from his shoulders, baring his scars to her view once again.
"Did Gabriel do that to you?" Emle asked, half-dreading his reply.
The look in his gaze told her everything she wanted to know, and more. Sickened, she closed her eyes and tried to regain her sense of place. He had not mistreated them in her sight, at least. And the scars were old. Surely they were from before the Council's binding. Surely.
"We are his Hounds," Malachi said, as if that was an answer.
She could have argued with him; or tried to see his point of view, but it was late. And she had discovered enough about the Hunt for one short evening. "I will dish you out some soup," she said, and fled into the kitchen, where at least almost everything was within her understanding.
Malachi sat on the bed for a long moment after Emle left. It was difficult to think past the pounding in his head, muchless hold a conversation, and he relished the silence that surrounded him now, soothing his ragged emotions.
Gabriel had even dampened the bond between them, leaving him alone--up to a point, at least--with his thoughts.
He had not expected any of this. Not Eri's show of power; not Gabriel's acquiescence to the agreement they had made so long ago.
After a while, it had been easier just to forget about having a human form. And after a longer while, he had not--truly--missed it. Being human changed things. As a Hound, he did not have to pay attention to the vagaries of human emotion. The only person who actually meant something--other than Eri and Emle, of course--was his Master, and his word was law. He didn't have to think about anything at all, or consider an argument, or pretend to be anything else than what he was--a Hound.
It had been, in a way, refreshing.
You are alive, Nathaniel said through the bond.
"Yes." Malachi didn't bother to look around. He knew the others had been listening; it was hard not to.
And unhurt? The quiet click of Nathaniel's toenails was the only sound for a moment as Nathaniel approached the bed.
"My head is pounding," Malachi said. "But I will live. I had--I had gotten used to being a Hound." He shivered, realizing that he sat on the bed half-naked with a pile of clothes beside him. Without looking at Nathaniel, he pulled on a shirt.
You are to stay human, then? Zechariah's voice this time, with a thread of anger running through it.
"I did not ask for this," Malachi reminded him. "And if you were listening, you would have heard our Master say that he would hold up his end of our bargain."
That he had dared to do something so bold as to bargain with Gabriel still shocked him. That Gabriel had agreed to anything was a miracle unto itself. That he intended to keep his end of the bargain even more unlikely, but if Malachi couldn't trust their Master, then who was left to trust?
He pulled on underthings and pants, then stood on shaky legs to face the others. Thomas was the only one absent--and he was stuck on guard duty in the cave outside the door.
For a moment, he thought that Zechariah would not let him pass. But he moved aside, finally, and Malachi walked down the hallway to the kitchen with the other Hounds trailing behind him.
It was much colder now, even with clothes. His bare feet cringed from contact with the stone floor, but he managed to make it to the table without stumbling over anything, and eat the soup Emle had left for him.
Human food tasted so strange after a decade of meat and the occasional apple. But his taste buds remembered tea, and his body gloried in the warmth. Slowly, the pounding in his head began to fade.
You look a bit better now, Seth said from the doorway.
"I feel a bit better now," Malachi said, but he couldn't help his reaction when Gabriel loomed behind Seth. His heartbeat quickened; he clenched his hands around the mug of tea and shrank back in his chair. Seth vanished; moving too quickly for Malachi to follow.
Gabriel considered him for a long moment. "I am not angry with you, Malachi."
Malachi forced his hands to loosen around the mug. "I know." That didn't help the tension; in truth, his Master's words made it worse.
"May I sit with you?" Gabriel's voice was so neutral that Malachi almost smiled.
"Of course," he said. As if he could stop his Master from sitting anywhere he wanted.
Gabriel sat across from him, a looming presence. "You ate?"
"Yes." He tipped the bowl up to show his Master. "I ate. And I drank. And my head doesn't hurt much anymore."
"Good."
"I truly didn't ask her to--"
Gabriel reached across the table and touched Malachi's bare arm. "I know. Stop apologizing. I will not punish you for this."
Malachi had to bite back another apology. "Yes, my lord."
"You need to rest," Gabriel continued. "Rest, and then bring my lady back unharmed. And then we will talk about the future."
He left then, his presence fading as he walked down the hall.
Malachi wiped tears from his cheeks, gathered up his dishes, and placed them in the sink. When he walked into the living room, Seth was asleep on the hearth, his head nestled on his paws.
You could sleep as a Hound, Nathaniel suggested, walking in from the garden.
"I could," Malachi whispered. "But part of me wants to stay human for as long as I can. Just in case--" He swallowed fear. "Just in case he changes his mind." But if he spent his night human and could not enjoy it, then what was the point?
With a sigh, he shifted shape and padded out into the garden. At least dirt would be softer than stone, and he wouldn't have to find a blanket, as a Hound.
He didn't have to do a lot as a Hound. It was as a human that everything was so complicated.
Next Update: July 6th
House St. Clair Home
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