Her eyes, a deep, dark brown, locked on the elegant sprawl of black stone that was the house at Warriors Peak. Part castle, part fortress, part fantasy, it spread over the rise, speared up into a sky as clear as black glass.
Lights shimmered against its many windows, and still, Dana imagined, there were so many secrets in the shadows.
Shed lived in the valley below for all the twenty-seven years of her life. And for all of them, the Peak had been a fascination. Its shape and shadow on the rise above her pretty little town had always struck her as something out of a faerie tale—and not the tidied-up, bloodless versions either.
Shed often wondered what it would be like to live there, to wander through all the rooms, to walk out on the parapet or gaze down from a tower. To live so high, in such magnificent solitude, with the majesty of the hills all around and the charm of the woods only steps beyond the door.
She stirred herself now, shifting around so her head was between Flynns and Malorys.
They were so damn cute together, she thought. Flynn with his deceptively easygoing nature, Malory with her need for order. Flynn with his lazy green eyes, Malory with her bright, bold blue ones. There was Mal, with her stylish coordinated outfits, and Flynn, who was lucky if he could put his hands on a pair of matching socks.
Yes, Dana decided, they were perfect for one another. She thought of Malory as her sister now, through circumstance and fate. And really, wasnt that how Flynn had become her brother all those years ago when her father and his mother had married and merged families?
When her dad had gotten sick, shed leaned hard on Flynn. She supposed theyd leaned hard on each other more than once. When the doctors had recommended that her father move to a warmer climate, when Flynns mother had shoved the responsibility of running the Valley Dispatch into Flynns hands and hed found himself the publisher of a small-town paper instead of living his dream of honing his reporting skills in New York.
When the boy shed loved had left her.
When the woman hed intended to marry had left him.
Yeah, theyd had each other—through thick and thin. And now, in their own ways, they each had Malory. It was a nice way to round things out.
“Well.” Dana laid her hands on their shoulders. “Here we go again.”
Malory turned, gave Dana a quick smile. “Nervous?”
“Not so much.”
“Its either you orZoe tonight. Do you want to be picked?”
Ignoring the little flutter in her stomach, Dana shrugged. “I just want to get going on it. I dont know why we have to go through all this ceremony. We already know what the deal is.”
“Hey, free food,” Flynn reminded her.
“There is that. Wonder ifZoes here yet. We can dive into whatever our hosts, Rowena andPitte , picked up in the land of milk and honey, then get this show on the road.”
She climbed out the minute Flynn stopped the car, then Dana stood with her hands on her hips, studying the house while the ancient man with a shock of white hair hurried up to take the keys.
“Maybe youre not nervous.” Malory came to stand beside her, linked arms.
“But I am.”
“Why? You dunked your shot.”
“Its still up to all of us.” She looked up at the white flag with its key emblem that flew atop the tower.
“Just think positive.” Dana drew in a long breath. “Ready?”
“If you are.” Malory held out a hand for Flynns.
They walked toward the huge entrance doors, which swung open at their approach.
Rowena stood in the flood of light, her hair a firestorm falling over the bodice of a sapphire velvet dress. Her lips were curved in welcome, her exotic green eyes bright with it.
Gems sparkled at her ears, her wrists, her fingers. On a long braided chain that hung nearly to her waist was a crystal as clear as water and as fat as a babys fist.
“Welcome.” Her voice was low and musical and seemed to hold hints of forests and caves where faeries might dwell. “Im so pleased to see you.” She held out her hands to Malory, then leaned forward and kissed both of her cheeks in turn. “You look wonderful, and well.”
“So do you, always.”
With a light laugh, Rowena reached for Danas hand. “And you.Mmm , what a wonderful jacket.” She skimmed her fingers along the sleeve of the butter-soft leather. But even as she spoke, she was looking beyond them and out the door. “You didnt bring Moe?”
“It didnt seem like quite the occasion for a big, clumsy dog,” Flynn told her.
“Its always the occasion for Moe.” Rowena rose on her toes to peck Flynns cheek. “You must promise to bring him next time.”
She slid her arm through Flynns. “Come, well be comfortable in the parlor.”
They crossed the great hall with its mosaic floor, moved through the wide arch to the spacious room glowing from the flames in the massive hearth and the light of dozens of white candles.
Pittestood at the mantel, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. The warrior at the gate, Dana thought. He was tall, dark, dangerously handsome, with a muscular and ready build that his elegant black suit couldnt disguise.
It was easy to imagine him wearing light armor and carrying a sword. Or sitting astride a huge black horse and wearing a cape that billowed at the gallop.
He gave a slight and courtly bow as they entered.
Dana started to speak, then a movement caught the corner of her eye. The friendly smile vanished from her face, her brows beetled, and her eyes flashed pure annoyance.
“Whats he doing here?” “He,” Jordan said dryly as he lifted a glass, “was invited.”
“Of course.” Smoothly, Rowena pressed a flute of champagne into Danas hand. “Pitteand I are delighted to have all of you here tonight. Please, be at home. Malory, you must tell me how plans are progressing on your gallery.”
With another flute of champagne and a gentle nudge, Rowena had Malory moving toward a chair. After one look at his sisters face, Flynn chose the better part of valor and followed them.
Refusing to retreat, Dana sipped her champagne and scowled atJordan over the crystal rim of her glass. “Your part in this is finished.”
“Maybe it is, maybe it isnt. Either way I get an invitation to dinner from a beautiful woman, especially if she happens to be a goddess, I accept. Nice threads,” he commented and fingered the cuff of Danas jacket.
“Hands off.” She jerked her arm out of reach, then plucked a canapй from a tray. “And stay out of my way.”
“Im not in your way.” His voice remained mild, and he took a lazy sip of his drink.
Even though Dana wore heeled boots, he had a couple of inches on her. Which was just one more reason to find him irritating. LikePitte , he could have posed for one of the stone warriors. He was six-three, every inch of it well packed. His dark hair couldve used a trim, but that slightly curly, slightly unkempt, slightly too long style suited the power of his face.
He was, always had been, lustily handsome, with blazing blue eyes under black brows, the long nose, the wide mouth, the strong bones combining in a look that could be charming or intimidating depending on his purpose.
Worse, Dana thought, he had an agile and clever mind inside that rock-hard skull. And an innate talent that had made him a wildly successful novelist before hed hit thirty.
Once, shed believed they would build a life side by side. But to her mind hed chosen his fame and his fortune over her.
And in her heart she had never forgiven him for it.
“There are two more keys,” he reminded her. “If finding them is important to you, you should be grateful for help. Whatever the source.”