Enchanted Moon (Moon Magick Book II) Read Online Free PDF

words and weighed her
options. At the first opportunity she would duck, twist, and flip him onto his
back. Within seconds, her blade would slit his throat. Then run she would. As
far as her legs would take her.
    To
him, she nodded. The moment his arm relaxed, she executed the spin and twist
Colm had drilled into her for months. The man landed on his back with a grunt.
Ailyn pounced, landing on his broad chest and aiming for his throat. He blocked
her blade and rolled atop her instead, pinning her arms above her head. His
breaths came in hard, steaming puffs on her face. The moonlight and distant
fire illuminated his face. Two glittering amber eyes searched hers.
    Ailyn’s
voice caught. Her involuntary scream came out a squeak.
    He
didn’t look like the others. No mask, no paint, no ugliness to speak of. He
looked as brown-blooded Fae as herself. The realization gave her pause enough
that her fight weakened. His face drew close to hers.
    His
odd-colored eyes narrowed. “If you value yer pretty neck, lass, you’ll shut up
and stop resisting me.”

 
    ~
    Quinlan
meant every word he spoke. Her every squeak put their lives in mortal danger.
    Yet
the fool lass wriggled, bucked, and tried to stab Quinlan with her small blade
again. He dodged it, then stood with her in tow. He forced her back a few
steps, deeper into the shadows. He didna have the patience left for any more
surprises this night. First, the dark rite, discovered nearly by happenstance.
Then seeing exactly what end the king’s lifted cattle had been meeting and why.
Now this fool woman about to walk into the middle of it all.
    Unless
she was part of them.
    Nay.
Her reaction to the scene told him otherwise.
    A
low din arose from the gathering. Chanting, dancing. The low beat of a bodhran.
Whatever other explanation for a lass wandering the wood in the wee hours of
dawn she might have, he’d be hearing it later.
    “Shh,”
he hissed at her ear, knocking her blade to the ground. “You’re either one of
them and I’ll be forced to bind and gag ye, or you’re about to walk into death
itself.” She struggled less. “The choice is yours, but know you’ll not be
taking me with you.”
    She
seemed to have come out of the shadows themselves, only to fight him like a
wild thing.
    He
pinned her chest to his, gripping her mouth anew. She went still. But her gaze
lit with defiance. He knew the look. Fighting fear itself, she was.
    Quinlan
held her dainty wrists tight, but not so tight as to cut the lass’ blood supply
from her cold, wet hands. The distant bonfire’s roar and crackle competed with
the low chanting. Nary a lull. Good. Had either of them been detected, an outcry
would have risen, a charge of fury to follow.
    He’d
seen men killed over far less than witnessing a secret rite with stolen cattle.
Until she’d walked toward that fire, theft and attempts at the old ways
appeared to be all that was afoot. Now, his gut swore more. More than stolen
cattle. More than an ancient reenactment.
    “If
I release you, will you be silent?”
    She
jerked her head from side to side.
    “Good.
Lest you be lying, know this. If you holler like a banshee, I’ll not be leaving
your side.” He let his words sink in. “If they find you, they’ll be finding me,
too. I’m only one man to take on so many.”
    She
nodded.
    Warily,
he released her. She spun on him.
    The
look in her eyes told him she had it in her heart to slit his throat clean. Who
was she? It mattered little, he supposed and the tense set to her mouth spoke
volumes. Somewhere on the freezing autumn ground, her blade had landed.
    He
drew closer, hoping she would see his eyes and appreciate his gravity. “Whoever
you are, you’ll be killed if ye stay. Go back whence you came, lass, if you
value your life or your virtue.”
    Anger
narrowed her eyes. “Neither matter is your concern.”
    “True
enough. And I’ve little patience for fools. You’ve clearly little sense to be
wandering about in the dead of