Carlton, Amber - Trinity Magic (Siren Publishing Romance)

by Amber Carlton

  Arleigh thought Flynn wouldn’t hurt the girls. Could he assume they’d be safe because a lonely, frightened girl told him so? Maybe not, but he had no choice. He’d have to trust her instinct because, of all the problems Arleigh Donovan had, he had no doubt she loved those girls, and their welfare came first.

  His head still hurt. He probably did have a concussion, but he would die of a brain hemorrhage before he went to any of the quack doctors in this brave new world. He would drink the hideous stuff in Arleigh’s jars before he let a blood-letter look at him. He ran his hands through his hair. Exhaustion hit him like a ton of bricks. He felt like he hadn’t slept in weeks, decades, centuries. His head pounded like a hangover, without the fun and the exhilarating head rush of his buddy, Jack.

  Arleigh had invited him to stay, so he if took a nap, her privacy wouldn’t be violated. He opened the door to Stephen’s room. Same dimensions, same windows as his own room in his own time, but there the similarities ended. His bedroom now held an uncomfortable-looking mattress slung across a bed frame that had seen better days, if it’d ever had a good day. Hooks lined the walls, holding pants, shirts, and jackets. A table that held parchment, quills, and ledger books stood under the window, with a battered chair tucked beneath.

  Accounting records. He’d have to look at those and see how far into debt Stephen had actually been. There must be assets he could sell to keep Arleigh from Flynn. Would he have time for all that? Well, he knew the answer to that question. He’d make the time.

  Ryder continued his inspection. Several small trunks crowded the corner, filled with shoes, boots, cloaks, and lighter-weight clothing. A larger one stood open, spilling weapons of every kind imaginable.

  “What, no flamethrower? Probably could use one if I’m going to deal with a Ganconor. Whatever the hell that is.”

  He looked around. No bathroom door.

  “Great. Welcome to 1639.”

  He peered through the window, gauging the time. Stephen Caindale apparently had no need for clocks on his island paradise, but it felt around 9:00 in the morning. The sun had risen and blasted through his aching head like a pneumatic drill. A sharp pain pierced the top of his head, like someone had shoved a railroad spike through his skull.

  Should have brought a bottle of Advil with me. Extra strength. A bathroom, too.

  He saw the outhouse about a hundred feet from the cottage, nestled in some trees. A line of planks led around the side of the house. Very convenient. Just enough to keep someone from sinking into the mud on a rainy day.

  “Well, here is where I find out how far I can get from the cottage. Then I’m going to take a nap until the lady of the house feels like talking.”

  * * * *

  1235

  Caindale Castle

  She squealed with girlish delight as she hugged his neck. Remy knew he was the luckiest man alive. He’d found the woman of his dreams, the most beautiful woman he’d ever beheld and she loved him.

  Aislynn jumped from the bed and twirled in the wavering strands of the early morning sun. She danced, her body swaying, her eyes closed, whirling round and round until he grew dizzy watching her. She pulled the pin from her hair and the red strands cascaded over her naked skin like sheets of red fire, wrapping around her as she spun.

  “I am to be thy wife!” She giggled again and twirled faster. “Remy, Remy, my heart shall shatter with happiness.”

  She stopped suddenly and leapt at him. He caught her easily, her small frame nestled tight against him. His hands drifted over the smooth skin of her back.

  “I love thee so,” she whispered.

  “And I love thee.”

  She tilted her head. He wanted to kiss her, so he did. She smiled against his lips. “Thy sisters hath no doubts?”

  “Nay. They art pleased, though they desire us to leave this chamber. They hath a wish to know thee.”

  She sighed, her body rising and falling in his arms. “I cannot. I hath fallen under thy spell and I wish to be nowhere else.” She planted tiny kisses on his collarbone. His cock grew, rising toward her heat.

  “We shall be forced to leave the chamber to meet the priest.”

  “But ‘tis not today,” she murmured.

  Her hand wrapped around his cock and she pressed her palm tight against him, rubbing gently. The friction made him groan and the head of his cock pulsed against her skin. His skin caught fire and he captured her mouth with his. Her mouth was sweet heat and stole his breath.

  She straddled his hips and pushed herself up, resting her hands against his chest. Her fingers toyed with the hair there, tickling him, coaxing him into tiny shivers. She leaned down and licked each nipple and he reached for her breasts, cupping them in his hands and tweaking her nipples.until she sighed deeply.

  “’Tis never been like this,” she said.

  “Nor for me.”

  He pulled her breast into his mouth, his tongue swirling around her peaked nipple, a wet luscious bud that grew larger and harder with each taste. When he nipped at her skin, she gave a little cry then pushed harder against him. His hand strayed between her thighs, spread wide over his body. When he touched her clit, she whimpered and sat up straight.

  “Touch me again.”

  He pushed two fingers into her, hard, fast, and she sucked in a breath. Her pussy lips swelled around his fingers and her inner muscles clenched against them. He wiggled them slightly and she squirmed against him.

  “Not enough,” she said.

  He withdrew for only a moment and shoved three fingers into her. Her pussy spasmed around them, pulsing with the beat of her heart.

  Her clit was a hard, tiny bud peaking with a need for attention. He pressed his thumb against it, circling. Her head fell back, and her thighs tightened around him. A shudder swept her body, and her pussy locked around his fingers, throbbing with a hard, chaotic rhythm.

  His cock drummed a beat of its own.

  She trembled violently, her magnificent body shaking above his. He never grew tired of watching her face when she came. Her lips parted and a long trembling breath escaped.

  Aislynn lifted slightly and gripped his pounding cock, sliding it between her pussy lips. She rubbed it up and down, teasing him with her moisture and heat. Each time it swiped against her clit, she smiled and shivered. She took a deep breath and pushed herself down. His aching cock slid inside her to the hilt, and she released the breath with a giant sigh that burst from her as his cock swelled harder and filled every crevice of her pussy.

  Her whispered voice tore at his soul. “Oh, my lord, only thee can stop the madness.”

  He gripped her hips, pulling her tight, lifting her, pounding her body against his. He watched as his cock, covered with a glistening sheen, a melding of their fluids, slid from her body, then as it plunged into the moist haven that answered all his desires.

  Her head fell forward, the glossy strands of her hair drifting like silk against his skin. Her body trembled beneath his hands as his own trembled beneath hers.

  Her pussy clenched around his cock. His balls rose high against his body and tightened with an excruciating pressure, wanting to pour into her. She reached behind to cup them in her hand and he released, bursting, flooding her with his seed, his promise, his love. She tensed for a moment then her pussy spasmed, gripping him, milking the fluid from his body. She fell against him as her body shattered. He cradled her as his cock pulsed within her and she quivered with her own release.

  When his body was spent and her trembling had begun to subside, he lifted her chin and captured her mouth.

  “My beautiful Aislynn. I pledge to thee my heart, my soul, my very breath.”

  “My Remy,” she whispered. “I pledge the same to thee.”

  He held her as she drifted to sleep against him, feeling the beat of her heart in sync with his, and wondering what perfect magic had brought her into his life.

  Chapter 11

  Arleigh bolted upright in her tiny bed. Her pussy throbbed. She pressed her pa
lm against her mound, trying to stop the ache. She shook her head.

  What madness is this?That dream was too real.

  Now that Stephen lay in his grave, men were seemingly falling from the sky and invading her dreams. She had dreamed the night before of Cameron. With the power of the Ganconor, the possibility existed that Cameron had woven himself into her sleeping life. If he had done that, things would soon become more desperate than she’d feared.

  And now there was the new man. Ryder Kendall. He had woven himself into her dreams too. The man in the dream had looked like Kendall with his warm brown eyes and that dimple in his chin, but she wasn’t sure it had been a dream. It seemed more like a memory—the stone chamber with rounded walls, dark tapestries covering the high narrow windows, a large bed spread with the softest of furs. And that man who had pledged his heart to her.

  She shook her head. It wasn’t possible. She could not have known this man before.

  Her mind reeled as thousands of years of memories flooded through her, back when she had been something else, something she sometimes remembered, sometimes begged to forget. The Leanan sidhe, lover of men, thief of hearts. The soul taker.

  Wherever the dream had come from, Ryder Kendall had invaded her life and appeared to be staying, which opened another problem. She wanted to keep Ryder Kendall for herself, and that would be the worst possible thing she could do. The kiss had proven it.

  She had kissed him to see what might happen, to see if the curse that shimmered around her would affect this man. Her answer came faster than she expected.

  His immediate response proved it. The passion of his kiss and the hardness of his cock left little doubt he would never withstand the repercussions of whatever still hovered around her. Without a doubt, Ryder Kendall would fall under her spell, and he would fall hard. But something far worse flickered in her thoughts. His kiss confused her because it had caused such an immediate reaction inside of her. The hunger she felt within him had flowed into her and filled her with the same longing. And the moisture that leaked from her body indicated she would not be able to resist him. Her body wanted him.

  The desire to kiss him again had been strong. The need to touch him had been overwhelming. For one moment, she would have given him anything, and the simple idea of more between them had spread a paralyzing fear through her. She had become careless and, if it happened again, she would forget. She would forget curses and consequences, dead men, and heartache. She couldn’t kiss him again, and she couldn’t allow him to think there would ever be anything between them. Too dangerous.

  Passion in Arleigh Donovan’s world meant death. Death followed her and took what she touched, without warning, without remorse, without mercy. Death had claimed men of Rosscannon Quay, Dublin, and scattered more throughout the greens hills of Ireland. Death would not hesitate to take a man who claimed to be her champion.

  Ryder Kendall possessed some kind of power of his own, something that disturbed the deepest part of her where she hid her human emotions. Ryder Kendall would steal her soul as she had stolen others. She thought he might have already snatched pieces and tucked them into himself because she felt something missing. How much had he stolen from her? Could she get it back?

  Arleigh needed to speak to Adelina. She tiptoed down the stairs and peeked into the empty keeping room. She stirred the fire and stacked bits of kindling into the burning embers. Smoke curled lazily around the wood, and lights began to spark and flash as a mass of small creatures poured from the hearth and swirled around her.

  “Oh, ’tis sorry I am, loves. I didn’t know you still hid there.”

  The faeries, her beautiful little guardians of light, gathered at the edge of the hearth, waiting patiently for the smoke to clear. She swung the kettle over the fire and settled down onto the bench to watch the flames. Adelina perched on her knee.

  “You’re not wearing your wings,” Arleigh said.

  “I don’t need them,” Adelina said.

  “Aye, but they are lovely.”

  The lights on the hearth whispered questions, so many that Arleigh’s head threatened to explode. She put her hands over her ears, and the voices stopped.

  “One question at a time. ’Tis well. Cameron didn’t hurt me.”

  “But he can,” Adelina said. “He can hurt you very much.”

  “I’ll not be worried about myself, at least not much. I’m worried about the lasses. He could purchase my indenture, and I’d have to go. ’Twould be safer for the girls if I did.”

  “That cannot be the answer,” Adelina said. “Can you resist him?”

  “I’ll not be knowing. ’Tis hard to deny he has some power o’er me, but whether he can take my soul is unknown. Some resist, but they fail. Other than Flynn, I ne’er lost a chosen one. I don’t expect he has, either. ’Tis part of the power. If you can’t win, you will die.”

  “You should not have relinquished your power,” Adelina said wistfully. “You would still be safe, and we would not have these problems.”

  “I did not,” Arleigh said. “They took it.”

  “Who told you that?” Adelina asked.

  “No one told me. I drifted in ether for what seemed an eternity. I tried to atone. I pleaded, but no one listened. My next memories are of a human childhood, of a mother who…loved me for a short while. Until she realized what I was.”

  Adelina’s face puckered in a sneer. “Humanity. I have no use for it.”

  “Humanity is a wonderful thing,” Arleigh said. “’Tis a gift I was glad to receive after the ether. I expected to live my eternal existence there as punishment.”

  “You were not punished,” Adelina said. “You made a choice.”

  “I didn’t choose to relinquish the fey.”

  “You chose love,” Adelina said. “With the choice, comes the sacrifice. You gave your heart and soul to a mortal when you should have taken his, thus betraying the ways of the fey. They revoked your immortality because elemental laws that must be obeyed. You were not granted free will in how you nourished your existence. You could not exist without the sacrifice of man. When you refused to take the love of Remy Caindale, a sacrifice had to be made. That sacrifice was you.”

  “Oh,” Arleigh whispered. “You are very wise for one so small.”

  The pink aura shimmered around Adelina. A rainbow of rosy tones spilled from her, circling and winding through her golden hair. She glowed, and her small body lifted gently from Arleigh’s knee. A small pleased smile spread on her lips. Arleigh reached out, and Adelina settled on her hand.

  “Yet ’tis still a curse upon me,” Arleigh said.

  “Aye,” Adelina said. “The curse still stands, because within your heart are still pieces of the Leanan sidhe. We can never forget our true selves. ’Tis wiser not to try. Who is this new man?”

  Arleigh glanced at the closed bedroom door. “Stephen’s brother. He makes me uncomfortable. ’Tis his help I need, but part of me wishes he had ne’er come.”

  “He is very handsome for a mortal,” Adelina said. “And he seems to hold some power over you.”

  “He’s a human, Adelina. He can’t hold power o’er me.”

  Adelina tilted her tiny head and studied her friend. “I watched you, Leanan sidhe. I saw your desire for him and the allure of his flesh. He is different from the others here. This one is special.”

  “I will resist him,” Arleigh said firmly.

  “He stirs something within your body and tugs at your heart. This one may test the boundaries of your willpower.”

  “The curse is linked to love, to my feelings for another, and possibly to the joining of the flesh. I won’t be responsible for his death. I can resist him.”

  “He has a power over you,” Adelina repeated.

  “I will resist him. I promise.”

  Adelina sighed and offered a tiny smile. “You said you will resist him three times, Leanan sidhe, and yet I am still not convinced. However, if you do not, we will have a dead body to explain. Think well o
n that.”

  She flitted to her jar, and the other faeries followed their friend back to their nests. Soon, tiny snores filled the cottage, rustling the air like the stirring of autumn leaves.

  Arleigh tiptoed toward the bedroom door. If Adelina had noticed the attraction between them, Ryder Kendall posed a more serious problem than she thought. She would take one peek at him to gauge her reaction, and if Adelina’s fears were confirmed, she would tell Ryder Kendall to sell her indenture. Once inside, she found she could not leave the room, and the resolve fled from her mind.

  She sat on the chair and watched him sleep. Tucked under Stephen’s quilt, he looked peaceful, his breathing even and soft, lying on his side like a child. An exposed bare shoulder peeked above the quilt, and his arm stretched across the bed. His body was well defined, well used, but not worn out. Stephen had worked the land hard, and his arms had been nothing like this man’s. Ryder Kendall did not look like a farmer or a laborer or a seaman. In fact, he looked like he hadn’t worked a day in his life. He looked perfect.

  His odd assortment of garments littered the bottom of the bed, and his shoes had been dropped on the floor. She realized he wore no clothing under the quilt. Curious, she left the chair and leaned closer. Her hand touched the blanket and tentatively lifted. One tiny peek and—

  “Are you going to kiss me again and finish what you started?”

  She snatched her hand away and lurched backwards, colliding with the chair.

  “Finish what?” she squeaked.

  “Breaking my heart. I still have a little left.”

  “I thought you were sleeping.”

  “Well, I was, but suddenly I smelled a field of violets. And here you are. Beautiful as ever.”

  Ryder yawned. His teeth were perfect. It amazed her he still had an entire mouthful. Some of them were flecked with small silver dots. Intrigued, she would have loved to ask about them, but Ryder’s voice broke her thoughts.

  “I had a great dream.You inspire my imagination to work overtime.” His gaze raked across her and she smoothed her hands down her skirt.