Faery Tail

by Deborah McNemar

  Jose squealed in delight, jumping on Star and wrapping his arms around her neck. “You the best, Star!” He grabbed his truck, already lost in his play.

  "Jose bothering you again, Star?"

  A young woman came to stand in the doorway, her hands resting on her very pregnant stomach. It was all Centauri could do to stand where he was in silence. Faint lines of pain radiated around her lovely dark eyes and her lush, full mouth showed her exhaustion. She smelled faintly of roses and talcum powder but underneath Centauri could smell the dark miasma of disease. The woman was dying.

  "Jose is my main man,” Star was laughing. “He's never a bother."

  The woman smiled, honest pleasure bright behind the faint gloss of pain. “How many times have you put that wheel back on the stupid truck?"

  Star ignored the question. “How are you feeling today, Maria?"

  Maria stroked her stomach ruefully. “Wishing it was a month from now and this was all over. The last bit is always the worst. Remember that when it's your turn."

  Star shrugged, her smile turning wistful as she watched Jose running his truck along the banister rail. “I'm never going to be that lucky."

  Maria looked Centauri over slowly. There was nothing sexual in her gaze, only a guarded sort of speculation. He stood still under her scrutiny, every nerve in his body screaming at him to get out of there.

  "What about macho hombre here?"

  Star flushed. “Centauri? He's a friend, Maria.” She stuck her hands in her pockets self-consciously. “He doesn't know it yet but he's taking me to Coney Island."

  "Really?” Maria's finely arched brow rose in disbelief.

  Star nodded, her smile turning impish. “He's always stuck in the office doing boring stuff. He needs a little fun in his life so I'm going to show him a few of the sights before he has to go home."

  Maria looked him over again, apparently impressed with his bravery. Centauri found himself wondering just what he had let himself in for.

  "Well, hombre,” Maria said softly with a shake of her head. “I admire your bravery but unless you have cajones the size of Jupiter, don't let her have any cotton candy."

  "Very funny, Maria,” Star scoffed, turning away to stomp toward the door at the far end of the hall.

  Centauri made an instant decision. Whatever this cotton candy was, he was going to do his best to keep Star away from it. She was dangerous enough to his peace of mind as it was.

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  Chapter Six

  Star woke slowly, the soft comfort of cotton sheets cool against her skin. Her body drowsed heavily, reluctant to wake but her mind was already moving. The events of the past few days drifted through her head in a lazy flow. As past night wafted by, she couldn't help the smile that curved her mouth.

  Centauri had gone way beyond the call of duty, she admitted. He had allowed himself to be dragged onto every ride and had played every game without protest. She was now the proud owner of an enormous stuffed purple elephant to prove it. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold the joy inside as it threatened to burst out of her chest.

  To be honest, it had been unfair of her. She should have told him what happened on the Tilt-o-Whirl but the memory of his expression when the floor dropped out from under him she would carry to her grave. He had eaten hot dogs and drank lemonade and not one word of complaint had passed his lips.

  Star sat up slowly, stretching her arms over her head and arching her back. Her stiff muscles spasmed and then eased. With a sigh, Star rose and headed for the bathroom. It was going to be a long day even with glow of last night to sustain her. Her very first date...

  Showered and dressed in black jeans and a cropped top of brilliant orange, Star finally wandered into the living room, still brushing her hair, only to stop short, gazing around her, puzzled. The loveseat was still there though how the man had thought he was going to get any sleep on it was beyond her. The stool sat where it always did beside the kitchen counter. The blankets were folded and laid neatly on the end of the loveseat. But there was no sign of Centauri.

  The door was opened a crack and Star could make out the faint sound of voices mingled with a radio playing softly. She pulled the door wide.

  "Hi, Star.” Jose was playing with his truck, running it along the carpet of the hallway with single-minded determination. There was an action figure jammed in the window and from the disarray of the toy soldiers scattered about, the guy in the truck was winning.

  "Morning, my main man. What's up today?"

  "Mom made chocolate chip pancakes."

  "Way cool.” Star picked her way between the soldiers with care. Those little suckers hurt when stepped on with bare feet. “How's mom this morning?"

  "She was singing.” Jose stopped for a moment to throw her a smile. “She's talking to your boyfriend."

  "Boyfriend?” The word took Star by surprise and she yelped as an infantryman with upraised bayonet found the bottom of her foot. She hopped awkwardly on one foot, biting her tongue so she wouldn't teach Jose any more words that Maria would yell at her over.

  "Centauri's not my boyfriend,” she denied, leaning against the wall waiting for the agony in her foot to subside. Those things were worse than those connecting building block things! Jose was the proud owner of about a million of those, too.

  Jose shrugged, taking the truck on a new and concentrated attack on a battalion entrenched under the window. “He's a boy and he's your friend."

  Star choked. She wished Centauri could hear himself described as a boy. “But that makes you my boyfriend, too,” she pointed out, trying not to laugh.

  "Nope.” Jose grinned up at her. “I'm your main man."

  Unable to resist, Star hobbled to him and scooped him up for a hug and a kiss. He laid his head on her shoulder, his black hair soft against her face. Star closed her eyes as an unfamiliar longing shook her. Jose allowed the cuddling for a moment before he wriggled, demanding to be put down. There was only so much his manly pride could endure, after all.

  Star set him back on his feet and dodged the truck as it made a pass past her bare toes. “I'm going to go talk to your mom and see if she's got any pancakes left."

  Maria was puttering around the tiny kitchenette when Star poked her head through the open doorway. Centauri was seated on the stool at the counter looking far too comfortable in the cramped apartment. He looked up as she stepped inside. He was dressed in solid black today and Star ran her eyes over him with a sigh. He looked good enough to eat.

  "Chica," Maria scolded when she caught sight of Star's hair. “You are hopeless, aren't you?” She came around the counter and tugged at the band on Star's wrist. “This isn't jewelry, girl. It goes in your hair to keep this mess out of your face.” She turned to shoo Centauri off the stool. He shooed with grace and Star found herself prodded onto the stool as Maria appropriated the brush.

  "I brought you coffee,” Centauri told her in his quiet voice. “Roddy sent the Spanish chocolate again."

  "And before you fuss at him, he brought me some as well,” Maria said, her fingers already separating Star's hair into strands to braid. “He's nice, this man of yours."

  Star opened her mouth to protest but closed it as Centauri held out the foam cup. She couldn't really argue with a man that brought her coffee in the morning, could she? With a sigh, she gave in and took the cup. The chocolate was rich on her tongue, melting through her lingering pique with the spark of cinnamon and the languorous caress of warm cream.

  "Besides,” Maria continued as she plaited the thick length of Star's hair into a tight French braid. “You owe the man for tricking him last night."

  Star paused with the cup halfway to her mouth. “Tricking?” Was he angry about the Tilt-o-Whirl after all? She chanced a look. He didn't look angry. He looked amused.

  "The cotton candy,” Maria reminded her with a sharp tug on her hair. Star winced but sat still. “You know how you get when you get that much sugar in your system. It's c
riminal."

  "But it was the purple kind, Maria,” Star protested.

  Maria snorted softly as she wound the tie around the end of the braid and gave the plait one last tug, “It's all just spun sugar, chica. You turn into a wild thing when you get it but you told him that only the pink kind was dangerous. That's why I told him not to let you have any.” She turned her dark look on Centauri who was unfazed.

  "He let me,” Star shot back, unable to resist teasing the solemn Fae. His eyes glittered, promising retribution but she grinned. “Doesn't that mean he deserves what he gets?"

  "Would you do that to Damien?” Maria padded back into the kitchen, her hands rubbing the small of her back.

  Star studied her surreptitiously. The lines of pain were fainter this morning and her dark eyes sparkled without the usual fatigue. She was drinking her own coffee with obvious pleasure, her hips moving in time with the song on the radio. The music painted a mellow backdrop to the morning.

  "Damien's as bad as I am when it comes to the carnival.” Star sipped at the chocolate and sighed. This stuff was too good to be real. “He gets just as wild."

  "Damien?” Centauri's voice was dark with something Star couldn't place but it sent shivers down her spine.

  Maria shrugged. “He's an artist friend of Star's. He's a nice man and makes sure she eats when she's with him. But she's right. He's as crazy as she is."

  "He's getting ready for his first big gallery showing. I'm really looking forward to it.” Star slid off the stool, satisfied that Maria was going to be fine for one more day. Every day was a gift and every day she thanked the powers that be for the miracle. “We're going to get out of your hair and let you take care of the little man. Watch out for the plastic guys with guns, though. They're dangerous."

  Maria laughed and waved as they left. Jose was stuffing soldiers into the back of the truck, more interested in taking hostages than talking. Star smiled down at him as she passed.

  The door closed behind them with a click and Star found that she was nervous after all. Centauri had been a good sport last night but that had been before Maria had spilled the beans about the cotton candy. So, she got a little hyper when she got large amounts of sugar. The man could learn to deal with it. Couldn't he?

  "Where is her husband?"

  Star blinked and realized that Centauri wasn't going to get angry over her deception. At least, not yet. But his question stole the sparkle from the morning.

  "Juan was killed about six months ago,” she told him. The grief settled over her, not as sharp as it had once been but the loss of her friend with the laughing Spanish eyes ached in her heart. “He was on his way home from work one day and got caught in the crossfire between rival gangs. They had just found out that Maria was pregnant. He was so excited. He was wishing for a little girl this time.” She settled herself on the loveseat and tucked a foot under her. “She found out about the tumor three weeks after she buried him. They can't do chemo or radiation because she's pregnant and the tumor is wrapped around one of the main arteries near the baby. The doctors are just praying that she makes it to term. I don't think she expects to live through the delivery."

  "What of you?"

  "Me?” Star tangled her fingers in the fringe of the afghan. “Centauri, I can make her laugh, dry her tears and send her sweet dreams, but I can't heal her. I can only wish I could help."

  Centauri knelt beside her, tilting her face to his with a single finger under her chin. “Never say that you don't help, Princess. Laughter and sweet dreams are priceless.” The finger stroked across her cheek, a brief caress before he rose to look down at her. “What are we going to do today?"

  Star took a deep breath, holding back tears with effort. That was without doubt the nicest thing anyone had said to her in a very long while. It made her feel guilty for her pranks on him yesterday. She drank her chocolate to hide her expression.

  "Today? Well, you don't really seem the type to appreciate the Statue of Liberty or the Metropolitan Museum. Other than the park and the carnival, those are my favorite places here. Why don't you choose?"

  He stepped back, his eyes suspicious. “Why are you being so amenable?"

  Star looked away. “If you don't want to spend the day with me, say so already."

  She froze as he stroked a hand over her hair. His touch was light as a breeze but she couldn't move.

  "Don't be so prickly, Princess."

  He knelt again so that he could look into her eyes. Star felt like a rabbit caught in a predator's sights. The urge to bolt for safety was strong. This man was so far out of her league it wasn't even funny. Yesterday's pranks took on the mental brilliance of poking a sleeping lion with a sharp stick. What had she been thinking to believe that she could match wits with him? She was intensely aware of his hand resting on her hair, gentle and warm.

  "Last night you asked me to open my mind, to see your life and your joys. I have never done such a thing before and I enjoyed it. The sounds and the flavors are different here but I could appreciate them all the same.” His lips twitched slightly. “Though I will remember Maria's warning about cotton candy in the future. Today, I would ask the same of you."

  "You want me to remember not to eat cotton candy?"

  His fingers curled slightly into her hair, a silent warning not to get too smart-mouthed. He was still a warrior of the Tuatha de’ and he would only tolerate so much of her disrespect.

  "I want you to come and see my world with me. Come and see the Fae Realms through my eyes."

  Star reared away, scrambling off the loveseat with graceless haste to put the width of the room between them. He didn't follow but remained kneeling beside the couch, his eyes fixed on her with that dark intensity that epitomized everything he did. Star set her cup aside and wiped her shaking hands on her pants.

  "I have absolutely no desire to go back to the Fae Realms.” Panic tightened her throat making it hard to speak. “Ever."

  He rose. Every muscle in Star's body tensed, waiting for him to pounce.

  "Princess, Tir Nan Og is not Lough Lean. The Moon Queen does not hold sway there. You would be with me. I would protect you. I swear it."

  Star fought to control her panic. It wasn't his fault that she was terrified of returning to the Fae Realms. The request made a great deal of sense even, but logic rarely won over fear. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the chill in her blood.

  "I've never spent a single happy day in the Fae Realms,” she tried.

  "As I had never enjoyed a moment of my time in the human world—until yesterday."

  Damn. He was going to be logical about this. Star shook her head, trying to get her thoughts to settle.

  "You don't understand.” She shuddered. “Centauri, everything I have ever taken from my mother's hand has been prickly, poisonous or a practical joke."

  "I am neither prickly nor poisonous and I can assure you I am not jesting.” He held out his hand. “You are a courageous woman, Princess. You have the will to do this if only you trust."

  "Courageous?” Star couldn't stop the snort of derision at the description. “I run away from everything and you call me brave. Hardly. I'm scared of my own shadow."

  "Courage is not lack of fear, Star,” he corrected her with a voice like black velvet. “True courage is taking that step in spite of the fear."

  Star eyed the outstretched hand and shifted uneasily tucking her thumbs into her pockets.

  "Your employer believes you to be on vacation for a few weeks,” he tempted her. “Luna would never think to look for you in the Fae Realms. You would be free to feel the earth beneath your feet, to dance by starlight. Free to be yourself. We do not have to go to Tir Nan Og if you don't wish to be around others. We can get to know one another as we were meant to. It is your choice."

  * * * *

  Damien woke with a buzzing headache and a nasty taste in his mouth. He crawled from under the covers, squinting at the clock on the box beside the bed. Nine in the morning
. He bit off a muffled curse as he scrubbed at his face. He had to finish that picture or he was going to go crazy. He had been up at noon yesterday and had painted through the night. Running on three hours sleep was going to catch up with him sooner or later. But the details ... He could see them so vividly in his head but when he tried to put it to canvas, the magic was gone.

  Shuffling into the cave, he fumbled with the espresso maker and finally gave up in frustration. It just wasn't any fun without Star here. He settled for a couple of headache pills and a swig of milk that he promptly poured down the drain with a grimace. A quick look in the fridge effectively killed his appetite.

  A faint sound from his studio caught his attention and Damien stumbled toward the rail.

  "Star?"

  The woman who stood in his studio was definitely not Star. Tall and golden from head to foot, she was the epitome of Greco-Roman beauty. Her leonine gaze swung up to meet his. Damien had never thought he would call gold a cold color but this woman was as lovely as a gilded statue and just as warm.

  "Who the hell are you?” he demanded.

  Two men, as tall and fair as the woman, stepped forward to flank her. Damien moved to stand at the head of the stairs. These guys were definitely not from around here, he decided. No New Yorker would wear black velvet pants and let his hair grow to his hips the way these two jokers had done. Well, not outside of the Village, anyway.

  "Where is my daughter?” the woman demanded.

  A light in Damien's fuzzy brain clicked on. “You must be Luna."

  She inclined her head regally. “I asked you where my daughter is."

  Damien took two deliberate steps down the stairs and sat with his elbows on his knees. “I don't know where Star is. She isn't here."

  "Where has she gone?"

  Damien scratched at his chest and shrugged. “I don't know and I wouldn't tell you if I did."

  "You will keep a civil tongue in your head and answer the question."