The Magic Between Us (Faerie 3)

Her eye was swollen shut, and the skin around it was an alarming shade of purple. He pushed her cheekbone gently with the pad of his thumb. “I’m surprised it’s not broken,” he said.

He drew her into his chest. He would draw her into himself, if he could. But then a crash sounded behind them. “I’ll get that,” Pritchens said.

“Father, will you…” Marcus began. But Lord Ramsdale was already moving in that direction, along with Robinsworth, Allen, and Lord Phineas. They were a force to be reckoned with.

Cecelia grabbed his hands. “Don’t let them hurt him,” she pleaded. “When he’s foxed, he sometimes does things.”

“How long has this been going on?” Marcus asked. He didn’t need an answer to that, since even once was too often.

“Since right after my mother died.” Cecelia’s voice broke, and she buried her face in his chest.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“You weren’t here to tell,” she said softly.

She may as well have kicked him in the gut. All the breath left his body. She was right, though. He hadn’t been there for her to lean upon. He hadn’t been there because he had been trying to be human. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his own voice breaking as he held her.

Marcus set her back from him, and his mother stepped forward. He said, “Trust me to take care of your father?”

She drew her lower lip between her teeth and said, “Do you promise you won’t hurt him?”

He nodded. He wanted to kill him. But she would never leave if she thought harm would come to her father.

“He doesn’t want to be like this.”

“I’m going to help him, Cece.”

“All right,” she said with a nod.

Marcus leaned forward and kissed her. He kissed her hard, with every bit of the passion in his body. “I love you so much,” he said.

“I love you, too,” she whispered back, smiling through her tears.

“Go home with Mother,” he said. He gave her a gentle push toward the door.

“But…” she began to protest, until his mother drew her into her arms and held her like she was her own daughter.

“We need to go,” his mother urged. “Let Marcus take care of him.”

“He doesn’t want to be like this,” she said again, panic in her voice.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to your bloody father,” Marcus said. Cecelia flinched. “I promise, Cece. But you have to get out of here.”

A crash sounded in the study, but Marcus wouldn’t let her walk back there.

He bent at the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder. She squealed and held tightly to the back of his coat. “Put me down, Marcus,” she said.

“No.” There was no way he would let her stay there. Not right now. He walked out the front door and carried her over his shoulder all the way to his parents’ house, where he walked through the door. She’d just about given up the fight when they arrived, and the ladies all jumped to their feet when he entered the house. His mother clucked a warning behind him.

“Claire,” Marcus said, and she came forward.

“What can I do for you?” she asked. She bent over and looked into Cecelia’s face. “Oh, dear, you do look dreadful,” Claire said.

“Thank you,” Cecelia said, her nose stuffy from being upside down. She sniffled.

“Put her down, Marcus,” Claire said. “The poor thing has had enough.”

“Not until she’s safe,” Marcus said, shaking his head. “Can you take her back through the painting to the human world? I don’t want her father to be able to find her. Not until we get things sorted out.”