“I’ve come for my property, Flynn. I expect you to return it. Arleigh Donovan belongs to me.”
“Legally, perhaps,” Flynn said. “But in a few moments, Kendall, she will belong to me. Your timing, as I’ve said before, is most inopportune.”
Ryder’s stomach rolled over, and he thought he might be sick on the carpet. He struggled to keep his face calm, but his body shook. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. A Ganconor. Had Disney ever made a movie about that? Doubtful.
“I have her indenture papers,” Ryder said. “Do I need to go to the colony government about this? As Stephen’s lawful heir, I am entitled to all of his property, indentures included, until we settle the debts. I’m still working on that part, but I’ll come up with something.”
Flynn adjusted the cuffs of his dressing gown. He walked casually across the floor, and Ryder saw his feet were bare. He could also see the wisps of dark hair on Flynn’s chest through the loose opening of the dressing gown. He thought of Arleigh touching this man. His stomach twisted again. Twisted wasn’t the right word. His stomach lurched.
“So is it to be a legal battle, then?” Flynn asked. “You don’t want to fight me for her?”
“I don’t have to fight for her. She’s mine.”
“But you’d like to fight, wouldn’t you, Kendall? You’d really like to use your fists. So much more personal and satisfying, isn’t that right? Or perhaps you’d rather run me through with a knife. Are you even carrying a knife? Obviously you are here on impulse and didn’t think this all the way through. Why would you return to my home and not even think to carry a weapon? You’d like to kill me, wouldn’t you, Kendall?”
“Give me three wishes,” Ryder said. “Guess what would be at the top of the list?”
“Unfortunately, I am not one of the djinn, so your wishes may have to go unfilled, but you have managed to retain your sense of humor, and that speaks volumes. You will need a sense of humor in the days to come.”
“Meaning?”
“If I return Arleigh to you, you must realize she’ll fight you to return to me.”
“She’ll stay.”
“You know what she’ll want. She told you herself, didn’t she? Didn’t she whisper my name?”
Ryder’s fist tightened. “She’ll want me.”
Flynn laughed. “You have no idea the kinds of forces you’re dealing with here. Have you forgotten I am the Ganconor?”
“Yeah, I know all about your fancy super powers. The Ganconor. Jesus, could you have chosen a more asinine name for yourself? Tinker Bell has a better name, and that chick is a real faery. You, though, Flynn, I’m beginning to have my doubts about.”
“It would not be wise of you to anger me, Kendall. Men who anger me don’t live very long. You’ve seen but a small sampling of what I can do. Would you like to hear what your life with Arleigh will be like while I hold her?”
“Spare me the details. I’ll deal with whatever happens. Same shit, different day.”
“You are very strange,” Flynn said.
“I’m not here for a personality analysis,” Ryder said. “I’m here for my property.”
“She’s very lovely, isn’t she? Very sensual. If she doesn’t kill you, she will wear you out in a matter of days. Why I’ve had her only a few hours and—”
Ryder took three steps and shoved Flynn hard.
“I’m going to kill you,” he growled. “Super faery or not, I’ll find a way. That’s a promise.”
“There is no way to kill me and no way to stop this. Once you realize that, you will be able to let go. I am the Ganconor, and the power that goes with it is eternal. Until death do us part.”
“I’ve already heard you sing that song, Flynn,” Ryder said, “and frankly, I’m sick of it. It doesn’t play well. It’ll never be Top 40.”
Ryder paced the floor. His glance darted toward the staircase. He thought he could make it past Flynn, because he ran on a regular basis and Flynn didn’t have his sword this time. He might be able to find Arleigh. Getting out of the house might be tricky, but he’d deal with that later.
“I’ll say it plain, for the slow learners in the room,” Ryder said. “I don’t care what your name implies. I don’t care what you think you can do, and I don’t care how eternal you think you are. I’ll deal with it. But you need to know I’ll never let her go.”
“You have every reason to want her. She’s an exquisite creature. There is such heat, such fire in her. When you reach that fire, it boils your blood, doesn’t it? You had her. Remember how it felt to be inside her? But when she shuddered in your arms, it was my name she whispered, wasn’t it?”
“Shut the fuck up!”
Ryder tore across the hall and lunged at Flynn, diving for him with every ounce of strength he had. He smashed into Flynn’s chest, and they fell to the floor. Flynn’s head cracked against the stone floor. He pulled back his arm and punched at Flynn’s face with everything he had. Pure pleasure poured through him when he saw the blood spray from Flynn’s nose.
“Immortal, my ass. Do immortals bleed, Flynn?”
Ryder hit him again and again, until his hand numbed and his arm moved without thought. His knuckles split open and hand smeared with blood. Finally, Flynn’s head lolled to the side and, with satisfaction, Ryder saw the blood dripping from Flynn’s mouth. Ryder pushed away from Flynn’s body, shoving at his chest. He rose to his feet and headed for the staircase. He took the steps two at a time, running faster than he ever had in high school.
He raced down the hallway, flinging doors open so hard they slammed against the walls and several shattered in the jambs. He reached a room where candles glowed softly in wall sconces. The covers drooped from the rumbled bed and spilled over the floor. A puddle of green silk lay on the floor, still holding traces of a woman’s form. Heart pounding, he stepped into the room.
Arleigh sprawled across the bed on her stomach. Her hair covered her face, but the strands blew softly with her breath. Her bare shoulder peeked above the sheet that mercifully covered the rest of her body. She appeared to be sleeping, but his heart lodged in his throat.
He reached out and touched her, but she didn’t move. He gently rolled her over and brushed the tangled hair from her face. He leaned down, and her arms wrapped around him, pulling him close, and her mouth fastened on his.
Stunned, he let her kiss him. She felt so warm. He let her suck the life from him with her mouth. She kissed him forever. She did not seem to need breathe. She moaned, soft whimpers that puffed into his mouth. He finally tore himself away and caught her face in his hands. Her eyes were closed.
“Arleigh, look at me.”
A soft smile settled across her face, and her eyes fluttered open. When she saw him, the smile wavered.
“Where’s Cameron?” she whispered. “How did you get to the Between Times?”
He yanked the covers from the bed. The sight of her naked body ripped through him, but he forced himself to look. There were no marks on her. She appeared fine, a tired, satisfied woman after an afternoon of lovemaking. What had Flynn said? Had he touched her yet? The conversation filtered through his head, but he couldn’t remember.
She rolled and pushed her hands under the pillow, snuggling into it like a child who doesn’t want to go to school.
“Get up!”
He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her off the bed. She hit the floor with a thud and glared up at him.
“Leave me be.” Her hands clutched at the bedclothes. She tried to claw her way back up. “I don’t belong to you.”
“You freaking do belong to me, Arleigh. Where are your clothes?”
She ignored him, and he ignored the green silk lying on the floor. Damned if he’d take her home wearing a whore’s dress. He tore through the room, ransacking drawers and tossing clothes he didn’t recognize into a snowstorm of linen and silk. Finally he found something he knew belonged to her. He took it back to the bed where she sat on the edge. He pushed the chemise down
over her head, fumbling to find the neck hole, dragging her arms through the sleeves. She fought him every step of the way, but he managed to get her partially dressed. He decided it was good enough.
He grabbed her cloak and threw it over her shoulders.
“Let’s go.”
She shook her head.
“We’ll do it my way then,” he said.
He picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. She was very light, but she kicked at him, her feet hitting his stomach, his hips, his thighs, his groin. He bore the pain and decided it didn’t matter, because there were parts of his body he wouldn’t need in the next few days. Her fists pounded at his back and pulled at his hair. Her screams echoed in his ears. He would probably be deaf by the time he got her home, but he made it to the foyer.
Flynn sprawled on the stone floor, wiping the blood away from his face with his silk sleeve. Staring down at him, Ryder gave him a smile.
“You look pretty bad for an immortal.”
“I didn’t say I couldn’t be hurt,” Flynn said. “I said I couldn’t be killed.”
“Maybe I’ll have better luck next time,” Ryder said.
“We are having a next time, then?”
“You can count on it,” Ryder said.
“She’ll kill you, Kendall.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Ryder said.
“Are you a lucky man?”
“Not usually,” Ryder said, “but things are starting to look up. Be seeing you, Flynn.”
Ryder rushed through the door. He moved quickly to the dock. The marines hadn’t landed, and Buffy was nowhere to be seen, but Jack met him with a smile. Maybe luck was finally on his side. He met Jack’s smile with one of his own, deciding it was the best way to start the first day of the rest of his life.
It was the easiest decision he had ever made. He would keep her, and he would stay in this wondrous world of 1639. He’d take the rest as it came. He could think of only one thing at a time. Right now, he needed to control the little spitfire in his arms, which would prove an interesting challenge.
Ryder smiled again and dumped Arleigh into the boat.
* * * *
The journey down the river tested his patience and offered a grueling challenge. Arleigh refused to cooperate. He tried to keep her calm by holding her arms at her sides, but he found by doing that, he had no control over her feet and her head. When she knocked against his face with the back of her head, she didn’t care that she hurt herself, as long as it inflicted pain on him. Her feet, small and bare, should have been harmless. Instead, he found that a woman in a furious rage could be quite strong and powerful. He paid for it now. His own feet beat a dull rhythm of pain, and his lower legs were numb. To top it off, she had also tried to render him sterile by consistently bouncing against his groin.
Her screaming and crying attracted a great deal of attention as the boat traveled along the banks. Although they watched with interest, speculation and possible suspicion, the people who worked on the river did not interfere with the strange scene. They were probably used to the capture of runaways, but he felt like the rapist thug he probably was.
Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer. He released her long enough to tear strips from the bottom of her chemise. He paid for that little decision, also. When he bent down, she pounded her fists into the top of his skull. When she saw his hands curl into fists, she huffed and puffed, but all the pain finally paid off, because she became mercifully quiet. He wound one strip around her ankles, another around her wrists. The third he stuffed around her mouth. A smile split Jack Kensington’s ugly face.
The sun dipped near the horizon when the boat finally arrived at the dock on Trinity Island. He carried his little bundle of fury along the river bank until he could see the cottage. Before he took her inside, he wanted to lay down a few ground rules. He dropped her on the ground, and she squirmed, trying to get away. He laughed and knelt down beside her.
“I’m not happy about it either, but this is the way it’s going to be, and you’re going to listen. Okay?” She glared at him. “I’m going to take you inside now. The girls are home, and I don’t want you scaring them. I’d also like a little peace and quiet so I can do some thinking. If you think you can give me that, I’ll gladly take the gag off. But I hear one peep from you, it goes back on. Got it?”
She nodded, but her eyes said she wasn’t making any promises to a rapist thug.
“I’ll also take the bindings off, because I really don’t like hurting you.” Arleigh rolled her eyes. “But you’re going to have to stay in the cottage. If you try to leave, I’ll tie you to something.”
A look of defeat came into her eyes. He might be a sick, sorry bastard, but he liked it.
He picked her back up and heaved her over his shoulder. When he got into the cottage, the girls were filled with questions and began to bombard him. He held up his hand while he plopped Arleigh down onto a bench. Fiana had started the fire, and something simmered over the hearth. He didn’t think he could even eat. His stomach had been churning since the day before. He waited several minutes before turning back to Arleigh. She glared at him, her eyes filled with hate. It hurt him to see it.
“Addy!” he called. “Get your fairy ass out here!”
A soft pink glow flickered inside the jar, and she came swirling out in an undulating ribbon of magenta fire. She darted around the room, hovered near Arleigh, and finally settled down on the edge of the table. He couldn’t see her face very well, but she didn’t look very happy. He didn’t know if it was possible for a faery to cry, but he thought Addy might be pretty close.
“You know what’s been going on around here?” She pulsed. “Couldn’t you have stopped it?”
She rose to his eye level and came very near his ear. He heard a soft whisper through his hair.
“The enchantment happened elsewhere,” she said. “I had no power to stop it. I am sorry.”
“Can you do anything about it now?”
Addy’s little face twisted into grief, and he saw that faeries could indeed cry. He wondered if the Disney people knew that. Addy wiped shimmering fingertips across her eyes.
“I can control it a little. I can temper it. It depends on how much of our Arleigh is left.”
“Please do what you can. I want her back, Addy. I need her back. I don’t feel whole without her.”
Adelina nodded and streaked around the room with flashes of pink lightning. She raced toward the hearth and up the chimney; she swept through the curtains and disappeared up the stairs. In her trail, she left twinkling faeries that, once aroused, flitted and circled around Arleigh. Ryder heard the hushed voices of hundreds of faery conversations. He heard shock, dismay, fear, and disappointment. He heard anger and outrage, but most of what he heard was pain that their mistress had been damaged.
Ryder bent down and took Arleigh’s gag off. He expected an outburst, but she remained mercifully quiet.
“Sit here for a minute. Don’t move.”
“Not bloody likely,” she muttered. “Tied, remember? You’re a bastard, Kendall.”
She kicked out hard and hit him in the shin with her bound legs. He would be a walking bruise in the morning, but he smiled because she had gotten her sassiness back. He went outside and got the ax from where he had buried it in the ground. When he came back inside, her eyes widened with horror, but she wisely kept her mouth shut. He swung the ax like a tennis racket.
“A little insurance. Nothing to worry about.”
There were nails in the firebox, so he got several and took them into the bedroom. He pounded two nails into each window frame with the end of the ax handle. He knew she would be able to get them out if she worked hard enough. The enchantment driving her anger gave her an amazing strength. She was also quite an enterprising girl and would probably be very determined. He needed to give himself a wide enough margin of time to stop her. He wished he had a pair of handcuffs.
When he returned to the keeping room, her head ha
d bowed in defeat. He untied her bonds, and she looked up.
“Get your ass in the bedroom,” he said. “I’ll bring your supper.”
She gathered her chemise in her hands and gave him a cold stare. Throwing back her hair, she brushed past him. The faery princess had emerged once again, not the charming princess, the bitchy one. He smiled and swatted her behind. She whirled around with a murderous glare then swished her skirt, went into the bedroom, and slammed the door. She screamed with frustration. She had obviously tried the window. Score one for quick thinking.
He sat at the table, watching Fiana feed her sisters, wishing he had a bottle of Jack. He knew it wouldn’t solve his problems, but he needed something that would take away the pain, if only for a few hours. He searched through the cupboards until he found another bottle of battery acid. Good old Stephen. What a pal. Not Jack, but it would do.
After he took Arleigh a bowl of stew, he sat down and started to drink. The girls watched him warily, and though their eyes filled with questions, they wisely decided to remain silent. He didn’t think he could tell them how scared he actually was.
The faeries spun webs of protective light around the windows and around the frame of the door. Arleigh’s faeries would not be able to stop a human from entering the cottage. He had learned that much about faeries after the girls had been abducted, but they would be able to stop Flynn from barging in unannounced. A human man Ryder could deal with, would enjoy dealing with, but Flynn was another matter. He couldn’t risk having Flynn around Arleigh. Not for one minute.
He finally sent the girls to bed. He drank for hours, letting the soothing warmth of the alcohol settle into his stomach and muddle his head. When his head fell into his arms, he knew he needed to sleep. He opened the bedroom door and went inside. In the darkness, Arleigh breathed softly and muttered in her sleep. He glanced around for something to barricade the door. He settled on Stephen’s large trunk and pushed it across the room.
A gleam of light from the window struck the objects in the trunk, and Ryder paused. He had forgotten the trunk was loaded with weapons. Knives, daggers, swords, arrows.
Carlton, Amber - Trinity Magic (Siren Publishing Romance) Page 29
