Shield's Lady

the longer the list of positives got.
    In the end, the negative side of the matrix had contained only one entry; a worrisome note reminding herself that she really had nothing in common with a Shield. The only thing he could possibly want from her was a sexual liaison.
    Of course, she told herself now as she watched the couples circle the glittering ballroom, a sexual liaison was all she was looking for too.
    Something seemed to be missing in the equation, however. She was afraid to ask what that something might be.
    Sariana sipped her punch and wished desperately she knew more about sex and men in general. She had the vague but disturbing sensation that she was standing on the brink of a very sheer cliff.
    A faint tapping on the window made Sariana spin around. The diaphanous skirts of her gown swirled weightlessly. She barely stifled a scream when she saw the dark figure on the opposite side of the glass. Then his eyes met hers.
    “Gryph!” She saw the way he was clutching one shoulder and a frantic sense of panic set in. He was hurt.
    Having got her attention, Gryph stepped back into the shadows of the garden. Sariana didn’t hesitate. She caught up her skirts in one hand and slipped quickly out of the alcove. She passed unnoticed through a tangle of laughing guests and a moment later she was safely out of the ballroom. Once she was clear of the hall, Sariana broke into a run.
    A short time later she was on the path that would bring her to the gardens directly outside the alcove. The glow of light through the windows guided her. She was almost on top of Gryph when he materialized out of the shadows. His eyes were silvery pools shimmering with an emotion that might have been pain or lust. Sariana assumed it was pain.
    “About time you got here,” he muttered. He was still clutching his shoulder and swaying slightly on his feet. He looked somewhat the way he had the night he’d been drugged with Aunt Perla’s hypnotic potion. “I’m going to need a little help and I didn’t want to startle any of the household attendants.”
    “You’re bleeding. There’s blood all over you.”
    “Not all of it’s mine. Help me get to my chambers, Sariana.”
    Sariana carefully took his uninjured arm and started down the garden path toward the wing of the house that contained their suites. “I’ll send one of the attendants for a medic.”
    “No.” Gryph drew a deep breath. “I’ve already been to one. He closed the shoulder and put something on the wound for the pain before I could stop him.”
    “Why would you want to stop him from giving you a painkiller?” Sariana demanded.
    “I’m a Shield.”
    Sariana was incensed. “What difference does that make? Do Shields have to go around proving their bravery by refusing painkillers when they’ve been hurt?”
    “Has anyone ever told you that you have all the makings of a scold?” Gryph retorted. “With very little effort you could turn into a complete nag.”
    “With you for inspiration, I’m willing to make the effort,” she snapped. “Now tell me what’s going on here. Why didn’t you want a painkiller?”
    “Some kinds of drugs don’t work on a Shield the same way they do on other people. Remember the night you knocked me unconscious with that mild hypnotic you had Mara slip into my ale?” His words sounded increasingly slurred.
    Sariana was stricken with guilt. “I didn’t realize it would affect you that way. I was assured it wouldn’t combine with the alcohol into anything more potent than what it already was.”
    “It wouldn’t in most people. It does in a Shield. The painkiller the medic used tonight is having a similar effect.”
    “You mean you’re about to faint?”
    “Not if I can help it,” he told her grimly.
    “Gryph, tell me what happened.”
    “I got hurt.”
    “I can see that! How?”
    “Sheer stupidity. Stupidity will do it every time.”
    “Does this have anything to do with that missing prisma cutter?” Sariana demanded with sudden intuition.
    “It does.”
    “I was afraid of that! I had no idea this business was going to become dangerous. We’ll have to go to the town guards after all.”
    “No, we will not go to the guards.” The words were carefully and deliberately spaced, each one an immovable block of stone.
    “We most certainly will,” Sariana declared. “I don’t want anyone else hurt just to protect the Avylyns’ reputation. I’m in charge of this matter and I will make the