situation. The lass is mostly dead, and I'm a thousand-year-old Angel, twenty-two days from retirement."
Christian shrugged. "So? You save her life, retire, and live happily thereafter."
Gawan frowned. "Nay. Unfortunately, not." He drew in a deep breath when Christian gave him a lost look. "If I'm able to find her body and save her life, Ellie will only have a vague nagging in her memory of something she can't quite place a finger to. That nagging will be us. She won't remember anything concrete, Chris. Nothing." He rubbed his eyes. "Not you, not Nicklesby, nor Davy or the others. Especially not me. Being the Guardian who saved her, I'd be the first one stricken from her memory." He rubbed a hand over his eyes and sighed. "Nor will I have even a vague memory of her.
'Tis the way of the Order."
Christian let out a low whistle. "By the saints."
"Aye. So you see why I must keep her at arm's length. 'Tis bad enough, me knowing the truth of the matter. I'm by no means in love with her—by the saints' toes, I've only just met her. But knowing what could be is fair temptation enough, I assure you. There's no sense in causing the girl grief by telling her about it, as well."
The ghostly knight grinned. "You're mighty confident in your abilities to woo her successfully, my fierce warrior friend, all on the oath of a mere marking of the lip. How know you that she'd gain any feelings but scorn and distaste for your pathetic self, anyway?"
Gawan met his friend's stare with a scowl. "There won't be any wooing, so therefore it doesn't matter. Ellie's not to know of it, Chris. Not a single bloody word."
"Not a single bloody word of what?"
Both Christian and Gawan glanced up at the same time. There in the doorway stood Ellie, and behind her, every annoying castle spirit residing at Grimm. Accompanied by Nicklesby, of course.
Gawan cursed under his breath. Bleeding priests.
Chapter Eight
Gawan fought the urge to run a finger round the collar of his wool tunic. Damnation, he felt choked.
Why was it so blasted hot in the library, all of a sudden? He glanced at Ellie. "Er, what I mean to say is—"
Ellie's face grew pinched and her eyes pierced him straight through. "No, no. That's all right, Conwyk. Gosh, stop all that stammering. You look like you're choking on a chicken bone or something." She moved closer and peered at the list lying on the desk of cottage rentals in the area.
"I, uh, do appreciate all your help." She slid a hip against the desk corner. "But I'm not quite sure why you're helping me." She rubbed her chin, much, he guessed, in the same fashion he himself frequently did when perplexed. "But that'd be rude of me to ask, wouldn't it?" She tapped him on the nose. "Of course it would. I'm just a goofy, mostly dead girl with no memory of who she is, just lollygagging around the castle for no real purpose, other than waiting on my fate. So, since I really have no other choice but to hang out here and wait on that fate, I think I'll just take Nicklesby up on that guest room he offered."
Gawan sighed. "Ellie."
She stood and cocked her head, studying far closer than he liked. "You know, there's something about you, Gawan Conwyk. Something so not normal. Other than the fact that you not only see ghosts, but live with them." Her eyes squinted as she stared at him. "No, it's something waaay different than that, even." She turned, gave Christian a stern look, then advanced to the door, where the silent cadre of Grimm spirits awaited her. "I'm watching you, Conwyk." She made a V with her forefinger and middle finger, pointing first at her eyes, then at Gawan's. "Closely." After a few hard seconds of the thorniest stare-down he'd ever had, Ellie Aquitaine turned, marched through the doorway, passed the lingering ghosts, and shouted over her shoulder, "Sir Godfrey! I've a mind to best ye in a game of knucklebones! I've no idea how to play the bloody game, but I've a mind to best ye, all the same!" She snorted. "Hey! I'm a
Christian shrugged. "So? You save her life, retire, and live happily thereafter."
Gawan frowned. "Nay. Unfortunately, not." He drew in a deep breath when Christian gave him a lost look. "If I'm able to find her body and save her life, Ellie will only have a vague nagging in her memory of something she can't quite place a finger to. That nagging will be us. She won't remember anything concrete, Chris. Nothing." He rubbed his eyes. "Not you, not Nicklesby, nor Davy or the others. Especially not me. Being the Guardian who saved her, I'd be the first one stricken from her memory." He rubbed a hand over his eyes and sighed. "Nor will I have even a vague memory of her.
'Tis the way of the Order."
Christian let out a low whistle. "By the saints."
"Aye. So you see why I must keep her at arm's length. 'Tis bad enough, me knowing the truth of the matter. I'm by no means in love with her—by the saints' toes, I've only just met her. But knowing what could be is fair temptation enough, I assure you. There's no sense in causing the girl grief by telling her about it, as well."
The ghostly knight grinned. "You're mighty confident in your abilities to woo her successfully, my fierce warrior friend, all on the oath of a mere marking of the lip. How know you that she'd gain any feelings but scorn and distaste for your pathetic self, anyway?"
Gawan met his friend's stare with a scowl. "There won't be any wooing, so therefore it doesn't matter. Ellie's not to know of it, Chris. Not a single bloody word."
"Not a single bloody word of what?"
Both Christian and Gawan glanced up at the same time. There in the doorway stood Ellie, and behind her, every annoying castle spirit residing at Grimm. Accompanied by Nicklesby, of course.
Gawan cursed under his breath. Bleeding priests.
Chapter Eight
Gawan fought the urge to run a finger round the collar of his wool tunic. Damnation, he felt choked.
Why was it so blasted hot in the library, all of a sudden? He glanced at Ellie. "Er, what I mean to say is—"
Ellie's face grew pinched and her eyes pierced him straight through. "No, no. That's all right, Conwyk. Gosh, stop all that stammering. You look like you're choking on a chicken bone or something." She moved closer and peered at the list lying on the desk of cottage rentals in the area.
"I, uh, do appreciate all your help." She slid a hip against the desk corner. "But I'm not quite sure why you're helping me." She rubbed her chin, much, he guessed, in the same fashion he himself frequently did when perplexed. "But that'd be rude of me to ask, wouldn't it?" She tapped him on the nose. "Of course it would. I'm just a goofy, mostly dead girl with no memory of who she is, just lollygagging around the castle for no real purpose, other than waiting on my fate. So, since I really have no other choice but to hang out here and wait on that fate, I think I'll just take Nicklesby up on that guest room he offered."
Gawan sighed. "Ellie."
She stood and cocked her head, studying far closer than he liked. "You know, there's something about you, Gawan Conwyk. Something so not normal. Other than the fact that you not only see ghosts, but live with them." Her eyes squinted as she stared at him. "No, it's something waaay different than that, even." She turned, gave Christian a stern look, then advanced to the door, where the silent cadre of Grimm spirits awaited her. "I'm watching you, Conwyk." She made a V with her forefinger and middle finger, pointing first at her eyes, then at Gawan's. "Closely." After a few hard seconds of the thorniest stare-down he'd ever had, Ellie Aquitaine turned, marched through the doorway, passed the lingering ghosts, and shouted over her shoulder, "Sir Godfrey! I've a mind to best ye in a game of knucklebones! I've no idea how to play the bloody game, but I've a mind to best ye, all the same!" She snorted. "Hey! I'm a
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