The Unicorn's Tail (The Artifact Hunters) Read online

  He shook his head. Not an easy thing to ask of a man. How do you move on from an angel and your babe? Why should he have a second chance, when there wasn't one for them?

  It had been three long years since Angelique was taken from him. He was no monk; there was always a warm body to see to his physical needs, but he didn't let anyone close. He didn't need a woman in his life. Especially not some up herself blue blood.

  If he was going to have any hope of beating Loki, he needed to figure out how the hell to attract the attention of a noble girl.

  He walked to his dresser and picked up a sepia-coloured photograph of a smiling blonde woman holding a chubby toddler who refused to hold still for the photographer. The little one's arms were a blur of movement, forever waving. He stroked a thumb over the pair.

  "What to do, Angel? Bastard pirate will cheat, and for once I want to see him lose." A kiss from the timid thing who would probably faint if he got too near. What the hell was he thinking? The girl was so different from his Angel. With her long brunette hair and serious eyes, she looked like a wet, lost kitten that needed drying off and someone to look after it. "The woman is a damn princess; probably believes in knights in armour and unicorns shitting rainbows."

  A door banged down the hall and something rattled loose on his bookshelf. The object slid over a stack of books and dropped to the floor at his feet.

  He glanced down, then picked up the dark circle and gave a laugh. "Unicorns it is then, Angel."

  *

  Tuesday, 17th December

  Amy picked up the roll of wallpaper and unfurled a portion. "This will be perfect," she said, imaging the soft cream with bronze dragonflies all over the breakfast room. She spent all morning scrubbing down the walls, and set two of the men to remove the enormous table and take it out to have decades of dirty hands and encrusted egg sanded off. The golden wood underneath would be waxed and polished. The chairs sat in the kitchen awaiting their new coat of paint, and cushions to match the drapes.

  A cough behind made the insects jump in her hand. Turning, she found Jackson standing in the doorway.

  She gulped. "Yes?"

  "I, um," he coughed again and one hand dipped in to his pocket. He withdrew a small bracelet as he stepped into the room. "I have a small gift, to welcome you to Lowestoft."

  Amy narrowed her gaze at the trinket swinging from his large fingers: a slim band of plaited fibres bound in plain silver at each end. She moved closer, wondering what on earth he offered her and relieved he wasn't waving a dead animal. "It's horse hair."

  He turned it to catch the light, and a silver flash raced over the plait. "It's strands taken from a unicorn's tail."

  She scoffed. Unicorns. She wasn't a child to believe such tales. "There's no such thing." She thought the gesture rather sweet, in a creepy kind of way, and it could be worse. He might have offered a necklace made from the teeth of men he’d killed. She took a deep breath; perhaps she could be brave enough to take a tiny peek under that tough exterior. Since she was staying at the estate, she would see him on a regular basis. She held out her arm, hoping he wouldn't bite it off.

  He raised his gaze to hers and gave a one-sided smile. "Know for sure unicorns don't exist, do you?" He undid the clasp and fastened it around her slim wrist. "Unicorns are powerful critters, known for granting wishes. Apparently there's enough magic in this bit of tail to grant just one. Your heart's desire, if you're brave enough to wish for it."

  "Why would I need to be brave to make a wish?" She needed all her bravery to stand this close to the bodyguard. Now that she managed to actually look at him, she noticed he had a scar running in front of his ear, hidden by stubble. He didn't look that old, either; maybe only a couple of years older than Nathaniel's twenty-eight. He just seemed tired or weary of the world.

  "Never heard the old saying ‘be careful what you wish for?’"

  He gave a quick nod and retreated out the door, leaving her alone with dragonflies and unicorn tails.

  Late that night, unable to sleep, she curled up in her window seat and watched the slumbering land. Shapes and figures cloaked in shades of black dotted the landscape. The moon emerged from behind a cloud and washed everything in silver. Off in the distance to the east, waves ambled toward shore, weaving an intricate pattern as light hit their tips.

  One hand rested on her knee, and a shaft of moonlight caught the bracelet. White fire raced around the circlet, highlighting the silver fibres nestled among the black.

  "Unicorn tail," she said as she traced the glowing threads with a fingertip. "Load of rubbish." Or was it? If it were true, what would be her heart's desire? She thought of Cara, so happy and relaxed with the man known as the ‘villainous viscount’. She wished she had a fraction of her friend's confidence, so at ease in her skin. And someone to look at her with the intensity she saw in Nathaniel's gaze.

  "I want a man who would love me as I am," she whispered. "The real me, not the image in the mirror."

  On her last syllable, the sky cleared and the moon shone with its full intensity. The bracelet on her wrist glowed, and Amy gasped. The strands from the mythical equine transformed to an object of silver and diamonds, luminous against the pitch black outside the window. Then the cloud dropped back in place, and the precious artifact turned back into horse hair.

  If only she knew how to find the ‘real her’. She'd spent her whole life painting a shallow portrait, and burying her true self. How did she start to chip away the varnish to reveal what lay underneath?

  Chapter Three

  Wednesday, 19th December

  Amy stood at the French doors, watching as the sun broke through the clouds and lit the frost and snow, making the landscape glow and allowing her to forget the house's hideous appearance.

  Loki entered the room. "How do you feel about a jaunt outside?" He rubbed his hands together.

  Although the scene outside looked beautiful, the temperature was frigid. She wasn't so sure she wanted to leave the warmth of the house. "What did you have in mind?"

  Loki held out a thick cloak. "I thought we could take a sleigh ride around the estate. I'll point out anything of interest, if we manage to find anything." He gave that delicious smile, the one that warmed her toes and made a sigh bubble up in her chest.

  She turned back to the view of the back lawn and cast her eye over the patchy ground. With the estate perched near the cliffs of the eastern-most point of England, they didn't suffer the same heavy winter as London. "There isn't enough snow for a sleigh."

  He gave a wink. "This is one of Nate's toys. Come and look."

  She followed him back through the house and out the main door. At the bottom of the stairs waited the strangest sleigh Amy had ever seen. It had three thick wheels on either side, but they were joined. A sort of metal band wound around them, so that when the wheels turned the sleigh rode on a track above the snow and mud. Instead of a prancing pair of horses, it was pulled by what looked like an enormous armoured aardvark. The squat armoured shape sat on a single ski that was attached to the front of the sled. The funnel ran parallel to the ground and under the sled, rising up at the back, and occasionally burped a plume of black smoke.

  "I had imagined white horses with flowing manes and golden bells attached to their bridles." She tried to keep the disappointment from her voice.

  Loki laughed as he handed her up. "Think of the armadillo here as being like old Jackson. Ugly as sin, but gets the job done."

  "The armadillo?" She settled on the seat and pulled a wool blanket over her knees.

  "That's what the men call the engine. The fire is stoked, and it will pull us around for the afternoon. Reliable chap, just not the most handsome specimen to look at, which is why I'm here. To improve the view." He sat next to her, the controls in front of him. It had a tiny wheel, like the airship, and two levers on the side. "All settled?"

  At her nod, he released one lever and pushed another forward. The armadillo gave a rattle and a burp before chugging forward, its mot
or driving the wheels within their tracks.

  Ignoring the flat paddocks of grazing sheep and cattle (‘boring bovines’, as Loki referred to them) he pointed the strange sled toward the cliffs.

  The snow thinned to small patches, like lace doilies thrown on the ground. The metal tracks kept on moving regardless of how thick the mud became, and soon they took a path along the edge. A drop of over sixty foot to one side ended in rocks and boulders nestled amongst the sand. Salt air hit Amy's nostrils, and she took a deep breath. She loved the ocean and longed to swim in it one day. On the rare family trip to Brighton she was only allowed to wade out to knee deep; it would be too unseemly for a young woman to flounder about in the surf.

  So many things I have never done because it's not proper. Perhaps Cara has the right idea, and blast what is proper. I'm twenty-two years old, and I've never really had any fun. I know how to fake a smile but nothing about genuine happiness.

  "All right there?" Loki asked from beside her.

  "Yes, sorry. Lost in thought. I was thinking how much I would love to swim in the ocean." Waves crashed far below and seagulls circled and wheeled, looking for their dinner.

  "There's a cove further along; lovely swimming spot when it's warmer." He kept one hand on the wheel, directing the armadillo engine, and gestured with his free one.

  She leaned over the side and stared at the sheer drop down the light-coloured cliff face to the beach below. "How do you get down?"

  He chuckled. "Pirate secret."

  She frowned. Whatever did he mean? "It's a pirate cove?"

  "Yes." The wide grin dominated his face; he really was the most extraordinary man. Vitality and warmth oozed from him like melted chocolate, drawing women in. Probably because they wanted to lick him and see if he tasted like chocolate, too. The sparkle in his eye could make her blush with the hint of sexual promise it contained, even though she only had the most academic idea of what exactly the carnal deed involved. The mere act of sitting near him made her question her quiet existence. Was there more to life? What would it be like to live on a pirate airship, to travel the world, and to wake every day to a new adventure?

  Then she remembered the number of times her childhood friend Cara had been stabbed, knifed, or attacked, and some of the appeal flaked off like old paint.

  "There she is." The sled stopped and Loki jumped out to point to the water below. The Hellcat bobbed on a wave, a thick anchor line trailing back to the shore. With her air bladder removed she looked like a sleek yacht. "There's a large cave which we can dock inside, and tunnels run back to the house. The lads are doing some winter repairs before we head off to France soon."

  "Oh." He was leaving. No one would smile and wink at her or use that tone that almost sounded like he flirting. She looked over the expansive ocean, stretching all the way to France. Such an isolated stretch of coast. "Is this spot used for smuggling?"

  "Because the Lyons family have dug out a hidden cove and network of tunnels to move back and forth unseen?" He gave a wink then held a finger to his lips. "Let it be our secret."

  He really was a pirate. Gosh.

  "I best get you back before I kidnap you on my pirate ship and take you to France for a thrilling adventure." He jumped back into the sled and turned the armadillo back toward the main house.

  She couldn't hold in the sigh this time; it shot out of her chest before she could clamp a hand over her mouth. It sounded so terribly romantic and exciting. Just like the last penny romance she read, The Pirate Takes a Wife. All that sky-high ravishment, which would probably work up quite the appetite. Which led her to wonder what the food was like on a pirate airship. Hard biscuits and rum, or was that only on sea-bound ships?

  Loki sped back, making the armadillo race over the soft ground. The chill air and the excitement of the ride flushed her cheeks. Strands of long hair escaped from under her hat and swirled around her face. Back at the estate, Loki took her hand and pulled her closer as she stepped down, his face mere inches from hers.

  "I hope you enjoyed the ride and the company," he murmured.

  "Yes, yes, quite, thank you." She tripped over the words, his close proximity tipping her world on end. Lordy he's close enough to kiss. Her gaze drifted to the silver ring adorning his mouth and thoughts swirled of how it would feel to press her lips to the metal. Would it be cold like the snow, or warm like his body?

  His head dropped another inch and warm breath feathered over her skin. She gulped. Until now only John had kissed her, and his lips had been damp and unyielding. Would the pirate taste like chocolate? Was she brave enough to find out?

  A cough came from behind and she gave a start and jumped a step back.

  A frown flicked over Loki's face.

  Jackson stood like a dark stone against the white snow. "If you've finished larkin' around, some of us need the sled for work." A small twig of witch hazel with its spidery red and orange flowers jutted from the lapel of his heavy overcoat, adding a strange touch of whimsy to his otherwise dour appearance.

  "Yes, of course," she said. "Thank you, Lachlan, for showing me the sights." She picked up the corner of her skirt and dashed up the stairs. Her heart raced like her feet. What was she thinking? She'd nearly kissed a pirate.

  She reached the sanctuary of her room and leaned against the door until her heart calmed. She peeled off the heavy layers, no longer necessary in the warm interior of the mansion. A delicate, spicy scent drifted toward her and she spied a tall vase by the window. It contained bracts of witch hazel, the bright and alien flowers adding a tiny touch of the exotic to the air.

  "How lovely." She inhaled the rich scent and wondered how the staff knew they were her favourite winter flower. Then she remembered the sprig in Jackson's lapel, although she couldn't imagine the henchman out picking flowers.

  *

  Dinner in the men's mess was a raucous affair. Laughter and crude jokes were traded over beer and beef. Jackson sat at one end of the table, letting the noise wash over him as he ate. A heavy hand dropped on his shoulder.

  "You jealous arse-faced toad. I nearly won until you scared the wee bird with your ugly mug and sent her flying."

  Jackson gave a scoff. "She was about to bolt anyway, you're just too thick to see it." The pirate pushed the girl too hard and too fast. He was used to quick results and women keen to bounce on his cock. The princess needed time to know a fella before he stuck his tongue down her throat.

  Loki pulled out a chair and sat down. He grabbed a beer and piled steaming cottage pie onto a plate. "I think she's half in love with me already. Told her today I would kidnap her and take her on an adventure." He picked up a fork and scoped up a mouthful of mashed potato and meat. "You should have seen the delightful blush that swept over her. I know exactly what sort of adventure she'll dream about tonight."

  "She'll dream of ponies and kittens. She's not like the sheep you normally tup." Jackson finished his meal and pushed the plate away. It was a stupid bet; he just didn't want to see the grinning git win. Someone needed to knock his ego down a peg or two. He'd sneak around behind them and thwart Loki's every move until he gave up and left the girl in peace. With the attention span of a gnat, it wouldn't take too many days before his dick would look for a more willing cove to dock in.

  "You're the land lubber — I'm sure you're far more experienced in the art of seducing sheep." Loki snagged a beer and popped the swing cap. His lip piercing made a faint clink as he drank from the bottle.

  "Why are you down here anyway and not dining upstairs with them?" Jackson asked. Loki normally dined with Nate and then joined the men afterwards.

  "Because I don't want to peel naked granny off my face."

  Jackson snorted with laughter. Cara's grandmother's companion had a full-on Loki fixation and a burning desire to make the pirate a notch on her bedhead, despite the thirty-year age difference. "Maybe they have their own bet going on."

  The other man's fork dropped with a clang to the plate and he gave Jackson a murderou
s look. "That's not even funny."

  "I think it's damn hilarious. Maybe I'll tell her which is your room." The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of Loki waking up next to a naked and horny Nessy. Might make him appreciate how women felt around him and his constant hard-on.

  The black look turned to thunder-filled clouds about to burst. "Don’t you dare." He spaced out each syllable, his gaze narrowed with each word and his hand tightened on his fork.

  "Or what?" Jackson said.

  Loki blinked and the look lightened. "Or I'll take more than a kiss from the rose. Maybe I'll part her petals, feast on her nectar and then take off to France, leaving you to explain the fallout to Cara."

  If the pirate shagged her friend and scarpered, dollface wouldn't even waste two bullets. She'd line them up and go for a through and through shot.

  He pulled his knife from behind his back and slammed it down next to Loki's outstretched hand. "Don't touch her like that unless you intend to stick around. Girl like that wouldn't get over a fuck and run."

  "Careful, Jackson. Your over-protective urge is showing." He carried on eating and joined in the jokes across the table.

  Jackson pulled the knife and shoved it back in the sheath. He'd gut the other man if he hurt the girl. A bet was one thing; it was quite another to destroy her world just because he could.

  22nd December

  Amy flung the curtains open to find a new dusting of snow down below, and bright pink sheep each bearing a letter of her name. She laughed as the Y wandered off to graze, leaving AM all alone.

  "I know how you feel," she whispered to the colourful animals. She pressed a hand to the glass, wondering who'd done such a fanciful thing, and why. Her gaze dropped to the horse hair bracelet. Jackson? No. Pink sheep displayed a touch of whimsy and possibly pirate initiative.