Shadow's Curse by Alexa Egan

have just been entering the final stages of delirium right before complete collapse. He couldn’t be certain.
    Bianca gripped a chair back, fear overtaking her anger. “If Mac is in danger, so help me God, David, I’ll—”
    “You’ll what?” came a deep voice from the doorway. “Send out the cavalry? Storm the fortress with sword and buckler? Claw your way to my side like the Valkyrie you are?” Mac Flannery entered the drawing room, flapping the water from his dripping greatcoat.
    “All of the above.” Bianca swung around to greet her husband, but not before David caught the fleeting look of complete and utter relief cross her face.
    “Bloody spring weather,” Mac grumbled as he accepted a kiss from his wife, dragged off his coat, and ran a hand through his wet hair. “Halfway up Bond Street, it began pouring like the second flood.”
    David sent up a silent thank-you to the Mother of All. Hopefully, the downpour would erase any scent trail Beskin might follow. The last thing David wanted to do was to lead the enforcer straight to Mac and Bianca.
    Mac’s gaze traveled over Callista before settling on David, his expression sobering, though David caught the shock that passed across his face.
    He rose to meet his host, though his legs didn’t seem to want to hold him, and he had to grab the chair back to steady himself. “We need to talk.”
    Mac lifted his brows in an obvious question. David answered with an almost imperceptible shake of his head and a slant of his gaze toward the women. Events had grown too complicated, and he was far too tired to path his explanation. The look, the gesture; both were enough. Mac nodded in understanding. “My study.”
    “Mac?” Bianca said. “What’s going on? David refuses to explain.”
    Mac shot David another cautious glance before turning to his wife. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
    Bianca placed her hands on her hips, her pose one of imminent argument. “Cormac Cuchulain Flannery . . .”
    Mac wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist, whispering a few quiet words in her ear. Whatever he said seemed to mollify her for now. She offered David asharp nod and, with the bustling maneuverings of the soon-to-be mother, took Callista in hand. “I’ll find Miss Hawthorne some supper and a place to sleep.” Just before she left the room, she turned one last spearing gaze his direction. “But don’t think I’m through with you, David St. Leger. You’ve got some definite explaining to do.”
    Once the women were gone, David motioned with a wave of his arm. “After you, Captain.”
    Only after he’d spoken the words did he realize how often over the years that phrase had left his lips. They had fought together from Lisbon to Waterloo, but it had always been Mac who’d been the first to volunteer, the first to leap into any situation no matter how dangerous, the last to retreat no matter how impossible. If David had to describe his comrade, the words duty , honor , and courage would have come first to mind. Followed by stubborn , single-minded , and a pain in the ass .
    But friend would have been emblazoned at the top of the list.
    It had begun as a company of four. Adam, Mac, Gray, and David. Infantry scouts. Imnada clansmen. They had quarreled, teased, laughed, and loved like brothers. The friendship had frayed after the Fey-blood sorcerer set his curse upon them in the chaotic days before Waterloo, but it had never unraveled completely. And when Adam had been murdered last year, it had been his tragic death that finally reminded the remaining three of that unbreakable bond.
    Oh, they still quarreled. David thought Gray a self-righteous prig and Mac a besotted fool, but he’d lay down his life for either one of them. It was as simple as that.
    Mac closed the study door behind them. “You can collapse now if you like. There’s none to witness it.”
    David’s legs gave out as if his strings had been cut. Only Mac’s quick shove of a chair in his direction