A wasting disease, the healers said, one they couldn’t explain or fix—something he’d seen too damn often.
He’d stared down at the small boy, his thoughts a simple prayer: Not him. Please Deus, not him. Every child lost was a blow, but losing Xavier—beloved imp that he was—would tear out the clan’s collective heart. He’d glanced at Luis, who looked almost as bad as Xavier, but all his thoughts were for his son. He and Marina gazed down at the little boy, their despair palpable.
“I’m sorry,” Olivia murmured, “but—”
“Right now there’s a boy”—he swallowed thickly—“barely more than a toddler. He’s dying and no one can help him. Just like we’ve seen before. And it all goes back to Cleia—our oldest and most experienced healer confirmed it.”
“Then your healer’s wrong. Cleia wouldn’t—she loves children. And besides, she has no need for your energy. She can get all she needs from the sun. It doesn’t make sense.”
“She may not know she’s doing it,” he allowed. “But that doesn’t mean she isn’t. She’s sucking us dry, my lady. She has to be stopped.”
“But—”
“I’m sorry, but my mind is made up. I admit nothing, you understand, but know that if you choose war, we’ll fight you with everything we have. It’s either that or stand by and let her drain us without a fight. At least this way we’ll die with honor.” He inclined his head. “This meeting is over. Peace to you and yours.”
She drew a breath and then nodded in turn. “So be it. Peace to you and yours.” But instead of leaving she stepped closer and searched his face. “At least tell me how she’s doing. She’s not just my queen, but my cousin and closest friend. She’s all right?”
“Everyone loves her,” he admitted. “She has the whole damn clan tripping over themselves to please her.”
Olivia made a small, amused sound. “That sounds like Cleia.”
She turned in a swirl of green silk and walked into the trees. As before, the air shimmered and seemed to twist in a way that was uncomfortable to watch. Dion glanced away and when he looked back, she was gone.
He blew out a breath and then, after stowing his clothing in the stone house, strode back to the creek. It was early afternoon and the sun blazed high overhead, beating down on his bare skin, a reminder of how close midsummer’s day was—if he required one.
Three more days.
Rodolfo had already changed to dolphin and was waiting in the water. “Go back to base,” Dion told him. “Tell Davi to double the guards on all the entrances. The sun fae shouldn’t be able to break the concealing spell, but it’s best to be prepared. Lady Olivia isn’t going to wait much longer before she tries something.”
Rodolfo nodded and headed off.
Three more days. And he’d be lucky if Lady Olivia gave him another twenty-four hours.
Hell. He dove into the creek, shifting in mid-air to dolphin. With a flip of his tail flukes he dove deep, taking an evasive route that took him past the base into the Susquehanna before he doubled back to Rock Run Creek and home.
* * *
Adric had planned for that.
He was waiting high in a tree overlooking the creek above the location where Horace had tracked Tiago before he’d seemed to disappear into thin air, along with the signal coming from the smartphone. Horace was too good to be shaken off by an inebriated river fada cub. Rock Run must be using a spell to conceal the base. Together, Adric and Horace had nailed down this as the most likely location of its main entrance.
Now when Dion dove for the last time without returning to the surface, Adric bared his teeth.
Gotcha.
He used his quartz to text his surveyors, waiting nearby. Next he called Olivia so she could temporarily disable the concealing spells. She had it done in minutes. Quickly, his surveyors swarmed over the area before the river fada discovered their defenses were down, using their crystals to locate and map the large system of caverns and passageways that made up the base. When they were done, Olivia removed the disabling spell and the head surveyor sent the map to Adric.
As it came up on the screen, he whistled softly. Holy shit.
The base stretched a good third of a mile along the creek, its average depth forty feet underground. No wonder it was such a well-kept secret. The map was rough; even with Olivia’s help, whatever magic the river clan was using left large gaps, but he could see enough to tell it was comparable to an earth fada base.
And that was saying something. His people were master miners, spending even more of their time underground than the river people.
But even though the surveyors had marked several likely entrances, they couldn’t tell him where Cleia was. He scowled. In his puma form, he could use his heightened sense of smell to quickly sniff her out. But how the hell could he retrieve her in a base swarming with river shifters who could scent him just as easily?
He changed to puma and loped the eight miles back to Rising Sun. Just before he reached the courtyard he ducked behind a tree, where he shifted back to a man and retrieved his clothes. As he entered the courtyard, Olivia and four of the sun fae’s best warriors were waiting, including Cleia’s big, surly bodyguards, Artan and Grady.
He bowed to Olivia. “We’ve mapped their base. But it’s big—there’s no telling where they have her. We’ll have to fight our way through it, looking for her.”
“Then we’ll fight,” she replied.
Adric nodded coolly. He hadn’t expected anything different. The sun fae were desperate. This was a suicide mission and they all knew it.
Of course, he had a plan for getting out with his hide intact, but nothing was certain. He’d made sure Lady Olivia had deposited half of the huge fee she was paying him into an offshore bank that only he and his sister could access.
Artan shifted restively. “What are we waiting for? The longer that bastard has her, the sicker she—”
Olivia silenced him with a slice of her hand.
“I’m ready whenever you—” Adric halted as the quartz around his neck buzzed. His skin tingled. He knew who was on the other end.
“Hang on,” he said and tapped the screen, activating the speaker so the sun fae could hear as well. “Ric here.”
* * *
Dion strode into his quarters, face set. This was going to end. Today.
It was time to get rough with Cleia…make her believe he was going to act on the dark, lascivious thoughts that tormented him night and day. Lord knew it wouldn’t be much of a stretch. The queen might hate him by the time he was through, but at least little Xavier would get well. Then Cleia could go home and he wouldn’t have her health and that of her people on his conscience.
He just prayed the sun fae would accept that he’d merely sought to right a wrong. As he’d told Olivia, the last thing he wanted was war with the sun fae. Even in their current weakened state, he’d back his warriors against anyone, but Rising Sun had twice their people—and they were fae, besides, with powerful magic to call on. On top of that, with their queen at risk, the six other sun fae clans would join the fight. It was why he’d waited this long before acting.
Isa met him at the door, brown eyes thoughtful.
He jerked his head toward the bedroom. “She in there?”
“She is.” The older woman laid a hand on his arm. “But calm down. She’s—”
He growled. “Damn it, Isa, I’m a grown man. Stop telling me to calm down as if I’m a five-year-old throwing a tantrum.”
She inclined her graying head. “Desculpe-me, meu senhor.”
He blew out a breath. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. Go ahead—what did you want to tell me?”
Isa studied him, her round face crinkled with compassion…and a tinge of humor. She opened her mouth, then shook her head. “No,” she said. “I’ll let you find out for yourself.”
“Then I can pass?” he asked between gritted teeth.
“Of course,” she said and stepped aside.
He found Cleia sitting
by the pool again, face upturned toward a shaft of sunlight and wearing a gauzy pink-and-green dress that made her look good enough to eat.
But as he came closer, he saw her shoulders were drooping. He frowned. She appeared even thinner than the last time he’d seen her, and her golden skin had an unhealthy gray tint.
He rubbed the back of his neck, recalling Luis’s comment: She’s a sun fae. If you keep her from the sun too long, she’s going to die.
“Hello, Dion,” she said without turning her face. “You met with Olivia again, didn’t you?”
He didn’t ask how she knew; she seemed to have sixth sense about these things. “Yes. She knows you’re here.”
“Of course. I’m sure she’s known for days.”
He came closer, disturbed by the dullness of her voice. “I can’t let you go,” he told her. “Even if it means war.”
She just lifted a shoulder. His brow furrowed. Something was definitely wrong. All thought of getting rough with her evaporated. Instead, he wanted to enfold her in his arms and promise that he’d make everything better.
He crouched down on his haunches. “What’s the matter, querida?”
“It’s little Xavier. He’s sick.”
He frowned. He’d instructed Isa to keep Cleia away from Xavier. “I know.”
“Yes, of course. I suppose everyone knew but me. But this morning, Marina came to me and asked for my help. I’m a healer in my clan, you know.”
He hadn’t known. He was surprised Marina had let Cleia near her sick child, but she was desperate—and Cleia had never been anything but kind to the clan’s children.
“Were you able to help?”
“Not really.” She sighed. “I was able to halt the…disease for a while. When I left, Xavier was awake and eating a little food.”
“But that’s good news. Why are you so upset?”
“Because I’m pretty sure it’s only temporary, that he’ll get worse again. I didn’t tell Marina and Luis, but—” She shook her head. “Maybe,” she said with a sardonic laugh, “you should just slit my throat and be done with it.”
His brows snapped together. He might have considered it in the beginning, but only as a last resort—and even then he wasn’t sure he could’ve brought himself to do it. But things had changed between them. Surely she knew he’d never hurt her physically. Hell, he couldn’t even bring himself to threaten her verbally.
“Damn it, Cleia, it doesn’t have to be like this. Make it right and you can go. Your people are desperate. The solstice is only three days away.”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“Then why not? You caused it, you know you did. Why can’t you stop it?”
“Because. I. Can’t,” she said in slow, emphatic tones. “Do you think I would’ve stayed here all this time otherwise? My own people are hurting. And now I have to see your clan, people I’ve come to like, hurting as well. Do you think I wouldn’t help little Xavier if I could? I’d give anything to make him better. Anything. But I can’t. What I did was like putting a band-aid on a gaping wound.”
He sat down heavily beside her. “Then what are we going to do?”
“I don’t know. But whatever I did—whatever I’m doing—it’s not intentional. I may be draining power from your people, but I swear on everything I hold holy that I never meant to. You have to believe me.” She dragged in an uneven breath.
He took her chin in his hand and examined her face. Now that he was looking for them, he could see tear tracks on the smooth skin. He muttered a curse. “Cleia—” He ran his thumb over her drooping lower lip.
“Yes?”
He heaved a breath. “Hell, I do.” The words burst from him like a dam breaking. “I do believe you.”
“You do?” She caught his wrist and tilted her head, instinctively trying to see him.
“Yes.” She’d shown him by both word and deed that she wasn’t the shallow bitch he’d believed her to be. And today, she’d tried to heal Xavier, even though it had clearly taken a lot of energy, energy she didn’t have to spare.
But if she was telling the truth, there was only one choice left to him. He swallowed over the constriction in his throat. Lord, it was difficult to say the words that would let her walk out of here…and out of his life.
“You’re free, Cleia. I’m letting you go.”
Amazement bloomed on her face. “I’m free? Just like that?”
“If you can’t help us, there’s no point in holding you any longer. All I ask is that you explain to your people why I captured you. I—I don’t want war with you, querida.”
He started to rise but she kept hold of his wrist, halting him. “Wait.”
He came back down on his knees. He raised his free hand to touch her, then curled his fingers and brought his hand back to his thigh. She wasn’t his to touch. Not now and not ever.
“Yes?” he asked gruffly.
She cupped his jaw. “You want me.”
“You know I do.”
“Then why not? Once more, before I leave.”
His throat tightened. Her words hung in the air for a single hard beat of his heart. He couldn’t seem to make himself speak, to tell her yes or no.
Her face fell. “I understand,” she said, bringing her hand back to her lap. “You have to think of your people.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. Deus, he wanted her. Surely just once more wouldn’t make a difference one way or the other.
A lock of gold hair had fallen over her shoulder. He gave in to his need and fingered the silky strands.
“When we joined before, it didn’t seem to harm them.” In fact, he’d returned with Cleia to find his people newly energized. Yes, they’d been upset and worried, but there’d been excitement there, too, a new sense of purpose. And the fishers had brought back several large catches in a row. “Actually, it seemed to boost their energy—at least for a few days.”
“Then what’s stop—” Cleia gasped as he dragged her onto his lap.
“Not a damn thing,” he said and brought his mouth down on hers.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Cleia froze. Then she twined her arms around Dion’s neck and kissed him back. Her weariness evaporated before the familiar spark the two of them always triggered. It danced over her skin like the best magic, glittery, revitalizing.
He drew away. “Are you sure? I—”
She dragged him back again. “I asked you, remember?” she said against his lips.
“Deus, I want you. You’re like a fever in my blood…” He inhaled raggedly and laid his cheek against her hair.
“I know, I know.” She pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. Having her eyes covered had heightened her other senses. She drew in a slow breath, taking in his scent: musky and potent. She spread her fingers over his chest. The skin was moist; he must have come to her straight from the water. She pictured him striding half-naked through the caverns, powerful and very male, and her inner thighs constricted.
Sliding a hand under his wet hair, she brought her mouth to the strong cords of his throat, licking and tasting him. His flavor was fresh and clean as his creek, his very coolness exciting to her fiery sun fae senses. He groaned with pleasure and she sucked his skin into her mouth, hard enough to mark him.
His cock lengthened, prodding her hip through the two thin layers of material dividing them. He swore softly. “Damn, woman. You’re going to drive me mad.” He speared his fingers through her hair but kept his head tilted, allowing her to kiss and nip his throat.
Desire twisted in her belly, hot and needy. Stars, she craved him. She hadn’t burned for a man like this since her first lover, an ice fae lord from the far north who’d only wanted her for the lands the sun fae controlled. Blond and coldly beautiful, the ice lord had been a hundred times her age and a thousand times more jaded than she’d ever be, and he’d demanded she power her glamour to the fullest before coming to his bed.
Dion wanted her even without the glamour, found her beautif
ul when she was her naked, unadorned self. It was the most powerful love potion she could imagine.
She twined her arms around his neck and nibbled his earlobe. “Please, my lord,” she murmured, knowing how he liked her to beg. For this one afternoon, she’d be anything he wanted, do anything he asked. “Take me.”
He rumbled approval low in his throat. His fingers gripped the base of her skull, holding her in place for his seeking mouth. He licked the seam of her lips until she opened to him, then his tongue surged in. She sucked it deep into her mouth and he responded with another low growl of approval.
They exchanged slow, leisurely kisses that stoked the heat in her belly even higher. He lifted his head, moving his mouth to her neck to give her love-bites to match those she’d given him.
Her breath sighed out. “Dion, I need—”
“Yes?” he replied in a voice rough with arousal. “What do you need, sweetheart? To be touched here?” He tweaked one eager nipple through the cotton, then the other. “Or here?” He slid a hand beneath her skirt. She was bare beneath the dress—she disliked undergarments and he hadn’t brought any back for her anyway. His fingers nudged her thighs apart, going to where she was slick with arousal.
“Yes. There.” She rubbed against his stiff cock.
He took his hand from between her thighs to smack the side of her buttock. “Patience, querida. We will make this last, sim? I want everything from you. I want to take you slowly, until you’re burning for me and begging me to quench the fire. But I’m not that nice. I’ll make you wait, keep it slow and easy until you’re crying with need.”
His finger rubbed teasingly over her clit, and she stifled a whimper.
“And then,” he continued, “I’ll take you hard and fast and so deep you don’t know where you end and I begin. I want you to remember this loving for the rest of your life. No matter where you go, who you take as a lover. Because I don’t care who he is, he’s never going to want you even a tenth as much as I do, never going to give you what I can.”
Seducing the Sun Fae Page 15
