The Cherished One by Carolyn Faulkner Page B

Really.  Let’s not make this into a bigger thing that it is.  Stand down, the both of you, for crying out loud.  Lord, deliver me from testosterone poisoned men, please!”
    Grudgingly at best, Dain removed the sword from Max’s throat, but then he pointed it at his back and began to march him out of what he considered to be his forest.  Fawna only caught the beginning of what she thought would probably be a considerable lecture that started with, “If you ever give me half a reason again to kill you, if you so much as come within a thousand miles of my sister or any one in my family ever again, I’m going to...”
    Fawna found her way back to the house with no further issues or commotion, closing and locking the door behind her then leaning against it.  It was quiet, almost too quiet.
    For a short moment, just an instant, really, she allowed herself to admit it.
    She was going to miss the bastard.
    And then she dissolved into a pool of abject tears.
     
    ***
    Max had immediately gotten heartily sick of the little prince’s sword in his back, and as soon as they were out of eyesight of his sister had relieved him of it in a fight that lasted about three seconds, much to the younger man’s astonishment.  He had to give it to Dain, though, the boy had been willing to meet his fate bravely, and had not once flinched or begged for his life when the sword was in the other hand, the cold steel of the blade against his own strong, young jaw.
    But instead of ending the eager young monarch’s life, as he might have not very long ago, just for the sheer amusement of it, Max instead turned the tables and presented him with the sword.  “In your sister’s honor,” laying the hilt on the back of his wrist in a gesture of friendship and good will, and bowing low in front of the King.
    Dain took the sword, slowly at first, as if he thought that this might be some kind of a trick. 
    Smart man, Max thought, although there was no underlying deception.
    Then he started off through the forest in what he hoped was the right direction, looking back at the stunned young man and motioning to him.  “Well?  Aren’t you going to show me the way out?  It’s the quickest method of getting rid of me, you know.  I can see in the dark and call the animals myself, but unless I have something to scent I have a terrible sense of direction.”
    When the vampire stopped short at one point on their way back through the dense trees, Dain went on alert, even though there was a huge, shit eating grin on his face.
    “What are you smiling like that for?”
    “She likes me.”
    “Who likes you?” Dain asked, although he knew he probably didn’t want to know the answer.
    “Your sister.”
    God help them, she’d fallen for another blood sucker.  Would the girl never learn?  And this time, he wasn’t like Dag, who was at least trying to be a good person.  No, she’d fallen for the bad ass’s bad ass of vampires, who’d already tried to off her once, and had succeeded in holding her hostage.  “Stockholm Syndrome.”
    “What?”
    Dain explained the psychological theory on their way out of the forest, but Max thought it was a load of crap, like most psychology.
    “She likes me.”  He could have flown home on the wings of what he’d learned about her, but instead, he accepted a grudgingly offered ride from Fawna’s brother, who was just as happy to know for a fact the vampire was well out of his sister’s realm.
    He didn’t mention to Dain the more troubling thing she’d done right after she’d realized that she’d missed him that had made him want to run back to the house and hold her in his arms.  It had taken everything he had to keep himself marching forward, away from her when he felt her collapse into sorrow.
    Max knew that some of what she was crying about was not about him, but a lot of it was, and he was heartily sorry for the pain and fear he’d caused her.  If it took him the rest of whatever remained of his