by Shona Husk
Lydia took it without looking, her fingers closing mechanically around the card. He thought she was for sale. The money could pay for the repairs.
“Have a think about it, Ms. Callaway.” He gave her a nod and then walked away.
Oh God, what kind of story was going to be printed? She glanced down to see which paper he was part of and her stomach sunk a little further. It wasn’t even one of the respectable dailies. Would he mention the diaries in the story? Of course he would… and then anyone who’d ever been to Callaway House would start to worry.
“Lydia Callaway?” a man said behind her.
She turned, bracing for more media, but instead an older man in a dark pinstripe suit stood there. A lawyer; he had that look, like he already knew the answers. She studied him for another second. Her mother hadn’t had the guts to turn up so she’d sent her lawyer.
“Yes.”
“I’m representing Helen Turner, your mother.” He pulled out a business card and handed it to her.
Lydia glanced at it, then smiled and she hoped it looked polite. “I’m not sure what you want; you must know my grandmother’s will is being handled by her solicitor.”
“Mrs. Turner just wanted you to be clear that as long as you don’t try to make contact or mention her name she will not contest the will.”
“Don’t worry, Gran was the only mother I ever needed or wanted. The only reason Gran left her anything was because she never stopped loving her daughter.” Lydia bit her tongue before she mentioned Helen wasn’t actually a Callaway. No, she’d keep that to herself and let Helen live thinking she was a Callaway. After the way Helen had treated Gran it was the least she could do. After all, Gran had never seen fit to tell Helen the truth so she was merely doing as Gran wanted, right?
“You plan to contest the will?” The lawyer looked surprised.
Lydia had already had this discussion with her lawyer, but she had no desire to change anything Gran had put on paper. A person’s last wishes should be respected. “No. I’m happy with the split. I hope she enjoys the cash.” Hope it keeps her warm and fills her with happy memories while I try and save the house.
God, she sounded bitter. She inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No. I think we have an understanding. I’m sure my client will be relieved.”
“Good.” Lydia walked away before the man could say anything else. She walked up the road and to what had been the paved path to the familiar red door. Once inside she let herself close her eyes and sag against the wood where no one could see just how much this was taking out of her.
Around her the house was silent as if it paused to remember the woman who’d saved it the first time around. If she was going to save it this time, she needed Caspian’s valuation, and she needed the will to be finalized. She needed to make plans, none of which she could do at the moment.
Caspian would be back. He’d promised. He’d been gone one day already and today was half-gone. There wasn’t much longer to wait. And if he never came back, what should she do? Report him missing? Would they think she’d killed him? The ground around the house had been torn up, which looked even more suspicious.
Damn fairies.
Her lips curved in a half-smile. How quickly she was getting used to them?
How fast had she gotten used to having Caspian in her life?
While she knew plenty about the fairy side of his life, she actually didn’t know that much about his human side. She could organize the quotes, go past his shop, and see what she could find out.
With the afternoon sketched out she peeled herself off the door and smoothed her skirt, ready to put her ideas into action. At least if she was doing something she wouldn’t be wasting time on useless worrying about what was happening to him in Annwyn. Maybe she’d look that up on the Internet too.
She’d expected the King Street antique shop to be closed, but the door was open and the lights were on. Her heart gave a lurch. He wouldn’t have come home and not rung, would he? She parked around the back and saw his car was parked there. Hadn’t he taken it to the garage after it started making noises?
A small blue bird hopped around the asphalt as if looking for crumbs. Its feathers gleamed in the sunlight. The skin on her arms popped up in gooseflesh as she got out of her car. There was something very wrong going on. For a moment she considered just going home, but if he was here she wanted to know why he hadn’t called. Lydia rolled her shoulders and walked into the shop, half hoping Caspian was there, half hoping he wasn’t—because then she’d have to ask why he’d left her hanging and worrying. Then she hated herself for thinking the worst of him and for wishing he was still being held hostage by his fairy father.
A young man with long sandy hair was behind the counter. He looked up as the bell chimed.
Her heart chose that moment to stop and fumble before finding a beat. He looked like the kind of guy found in underwear ads. All cheekbone and casually tousled hair, his pale blue eyes gave him a wildness that most men would try and hide.
Words dissolved on her tongue. “Er… is Caspian here?”
“He went away for business. Can I help?” His voice was smooth and deep and he was a few years younger than she was. What was he—straight out of college? He walked over with too much grace. And yet… there was something about him that reminded her of Caspian. She just didn’t know what it was.
She shook her head as if trying to remember why she’d come here. “He didn’t mention an assistant.”
“It’s temporary.” The young man smiled. He was far too pretty.
Temporary—the young man was keeping the store going while Caspian was in Annwyn. This man was fairy.
Her heart bounced in her chest as she slid her hand into her handbag. It’s okay. He doesn’t know that you know.
She swallowed and tried not to panic. That was two fairies in as many days, not including the Greys. This man wasn’t a Grey. She was sure of that. He also didn’t have that same hungry air that Verden, the Hunter, had worn like a cloak.
Maybe this man knew something that could help. “Has he called, or said when he’ll be back?”
“He’ll be back before the three days is up.” The fairy considered her for a moment, his gaze flicking to her handbag.
Did he sense the iron? Surely not. Play it dumb. The dumb blonde act usually worked when all else failed. As much as she hated doing it, people fell for it—who was dumb?
“Oh, I was hoping he’d be back sooner.” She faked a smile. “Never mind.”
She took a step back. She shouldn’t have been so nosy and insisted on checking out his shop. If his car hadn’t been there she wouldn’t have stopped. Who was she kidding? She totally would have, just to see what he sold in here and what the price tags were.
The bells on the front door chimed again, but there was no one there. Another fairy, one she couldn’t see. How nice it was that this one had made himself visible.
“I’ll let Caspian know you stopped by. And you are?” He smiled as if inviting her to tell all.
Dylis’s warnings echoed in her ears. She had iron, she hadn’t agreed to anything, she hadn’t eaten or drunk anything he’d offered, and she certainly wasn’t going to give her full name. She could do this and get out of here with her soul intact.
“Lydia.”
“Lydia.” Her name rolled off his tongue like it was made of silver bells. “Bramwel at your service. I shall pass your message on.” He gave her a half-bow.
Who did that? Fairies, apparently.
“Thank you.” She forced the words out.
“Do not fear, we always keep our word.” He flashed her another smile, but this one was more calculating, as if he’d known all along that she knew what he was and held iron in her hand.
Chapter 18
“Caspian ap Felan,” Felan intoned, “do you surrender your soul willingly to Annwyn?”
Caspian glanced back at the castle and all the things he hadn�
��t seen, but in that heartbeat he knew he could spend his whole life here and never see everything—that was the trap. “No. I choose to remain in the mortal world and live out my days there.”
“Very well, I shall ask you twice more before you die.” Felan moved his hand over the gap and the surface shimmered. “You are free to leave Annwyn, but be aware without your soul you are the equivalent of a banished fairy. You will weaken and die.”
“How long?” What would it be like to live without a soul? Would he miss it?
“I can’t say exactly, one turn of the moon or three? You had less magic in you to begin with and you won’t be able to resize like a Grey.” Felan touched the mirror hanging under Caspian’s shirt. “Find it fast and help me stop the poison corroding Annwyn.”
He looked his father in the eye. “Are you commanding or asking?”
“Both. I have no wish to see you die.” Felan offered Caspian his hand.
Caspian clasped it, but Felan drew him into an embrace. “Do not fail me, son.”
Then Caspian found himself in a cemetery in the rain. Water trailed down the back of his neck and he tipped his face to the darkened sky. The air wasn’t scented with flowers, just the tang of ocean and heavier smell of dirt. The plants were duller. Loss for the beauty of Annwyn cut through him like a knife. He couldn’t think past the pain. He wanted to be part of beauty. With each breath the fog that had enveloped his mind thinned. He knew he was in the mortal world for a reason. He touched the sliver of mirror hanging around his neck. Down the road was a house. That was where he needed to be. Beneath his hand his heart beat. It took a moment for him to register what that meant. He was alive, but not human—that part of him was still in Annwyn.
Which meant he didn’t have long before he’d start to wither like any other Grey.
* * *
Lydia jumped at the knock on the door. She peeked through the front window to see who was arriving so late. Caspian was on her front step, soaked through. She flung open the door and stared at him for a moment, not sure if she should throw her arms around him and never let him go, or tell him to leave because she couldn’t go through all that worry again.
She wrapped her arms around him before she could check herself again and behave a little more appropriately. She’d missed him so much. She’d worry about the consequences of falling for a fairy later. He put his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek, then found her lips. He kissed her like he’d been starved and was hungry for everything she had. She let him steal her breath, his tongue slipping past her lips. She melted against him, not caring that the cold and wet seeped into her skin. Relief pushed every other thought aside.
“Oh my God, I was so worried you weren’t coming back. I went to your shop but there was some guy there claiming to be your assistant.” She kissed him again. “What the hell happened?”
He looked at her, but his pale green eyes seemed different somehow. There was a faraway look.
“Are you okay?” She touched his cheek, rough with stubble. Had he been drugged?
“I’m fine.” His arms were still around her as if he couldn’t bear to let her go. “What day is it?”
Her breath constricted but she forced her voice to be calm. “It’s Monday.”
He nodded like the day held great significance. “I missed you.”
“Me too. I mean I missed you.” She placed her lips against his again. His lips were sweet. Too sweet and too tempting. Yet cold. “Let’s get you in; your skin is freezing.”
He stepped into the house and Lydia realized he was still in the same clothes. His feet were bare and muddy. How far had he walked like that? Maybe he was just glad to be out of Annwyn. With a last glance outside she closed the door and locked it, knowing she’d be sleeping here again because the idea of letting Caspian out of her sight was unthinkable—what if he disappeared again? A frisson of excitement ran through her at the idea of sleeping with Caspian. Then she glanced at him; he looked like he needed to actually sleep.
“Why don’t you have a shower to warm up? I’ll put your clothes through the dryer.” Water dripped off his jeans and onto the rug. For a moment the wet splotting sound was the only noise.
“Lydia…” He reached for her as if he couldn’t live without the contact. His hand was cold. How long had he been standing in the rain?
“It doesn’t matter. Tell me later, if you can.” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know; she already knew far more than any human should.
His shoulders slumped. “I feel like I haven’t slept in days.” He pushed the fingers of his free hand through his wet hair. “Like I’m not sure what’s real.” Then he looked at her again as if he didn’t know what to say.
“You’re in no shape to get home on your own.” But aside from looking drained he didn’t seem to be hurt, but then she didn’t know what kind of damage a fairy could inflict. They probably had much more subtle methods than humans. She suppressed a shiver. They’d let him go, for the moment that had to be enough. “Come on.”
Lydia led him upstairs. She fetched clean towels and put on the heater. He fumbled with the buttons on his shirt before shrugging out of it. She eased the sodden fabric away from his skin. Her fingers brushed over his arms, she let them linger on his skin for a moment, unable to pull away. It had been days and all she wanted was to have him in her arms and make sure he was really there.
She turned on the shower, but kept her gaze on him. He turned around and her tongue swept over her lip. Then she saw the necklace hanging against his chest.
A piece of mirror on a silver chain. It was nothing special, and yet… Maybe it was the curved shape or the smooth edges. She was used to seeing sharp shards when mirrors broke but this looked polished. Her face was reflected back at her. He hadn’t been wearing it last time, which meant he’d been given it in Annwyn.
“Was that a gift?” She pointed without touching.
He glanced down as if seeing it for the first time. “It’s to help me find the mirror.”
Lydia nodded slowly. “With your psychometry.”
“Yeah.”
“How are you going to do that?”
He lifted his gaze and looked at her, his eyes totally unreadable. There was almost an alien quality, like he wasn’t really part of the world. While he’d always been attractive enough to make her heart skip a beat, today that beauty was sharper, more defined… there was a hidden edge. He looked more fairy.
Or maybe she was just noticing now that she knew. If he hadn’t slept or eaten much over the last three days of course he was going to look edgier and leaner. That was all it was. Still, whenever he looked at her she just wanted to melt.
Her hand trailed up his chest, his skin cool and damp from the rain. Then she stepped closer for a kiss. She brushed her lips over his in a light caress. He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek as he tasted and teased with his tongue.
A moan formed as her blood heated. This wasn’t what she’d planned. He was supposed to be having a shower and rest. And yet as he drew her closer, and the hard length of him pressed against her hip, it seemed sleep was the last thing on his mind. He turned her away from the shower so her back was to the wall. He worked her shirt open, kissing down her neck as her fingers threaded into his hair. She’d missed him so much. He opened her jeans and pushed them down her hips, along with her panties.
She pressed her hand against his length, stroking as she fumbled for the zipper. She needed to feel him in her. His jeans opened and she pushed her hand into his briefs, her fingers grazing the smooth head of his shaft. Her breath hitched as his fingers dipped lower and slid over slick skin. Her back arched into his touch. He’d learned her body so fast, his finger using just the right amount of pressure, the right motion. She closed her eyes; she was so close. His lips trailed along her collarbone and lower, his tongue tracing the edge of her bra. Then he stopped.
She opened her eyes and he lifted his head and looked at her with his eyebrows raised as his finger touched the iron na
il in her bra.
She swallowed. “In case a Grey comes back.”
He drew away, the heat gone. “I’m not good company at the moment.”
How could he say that? Now? Her blood was running hot. She needed him. Her fingers curled at her side, but she bit back the frustration. What did she say? What could she say? He didn’t want her… and yet thirty seconds ago he’d been as keen as she was.
She took a moment to fix her clothes and gather up as much calm and dignity as she could. “Okay. I’ll leave you to it.” But she paused in the doorway, waiting for the rest of his clothes.
He stripped off his jeans without a trace of embarrassment and handed them to her. She glanced away not wanting to see him aroused when he’d just turned her away.
Something wasn’t right. He seemed different, but she couldn’t say how. Exhaustion, that’s all. Of course he wasn’t going to be into sex even if his body was saying something different. “Did you want something to eat or did you want to go straight to sleep?”
“Sleep would be good.” He looked at the wet clothes in her arms, then back at her face. “I’m not being a very good guest.”
“Don’t worry about it. We can talk later.” She even tried to sound like she meant it.
He looked at the running water and hesitated before stepping under and closing the door. The glass warped his outline, but she saw him just standing there, head bowed, letting the water drum on his shoulders.
She bit her lip and turned away, shutting the bathroom door behind her to keep the heat in. Was she in over her head? She had more than enough problems of her own, including the relocated ghost. Yet that fairy had been in Callaway House for as long as she could remember without causing problems. She wanted to show Caspian the mirror in her handbag, but now wasn’t the time. Maybe in the morning.
She put his clothes in the dryer on low, as jeans had a horrible tendency to shrink. He wouldn’t care at the moment he would in the morning.
The sound of water running through the pipes rattled above her reminding her how old the house was. It had never been a silent house. It had always creaked and groaned and sighed and rattled with life; now it was too silent. The ghost hadn’t come back yet. She almost wished it would. The pipes shuddered as the taps were turned off.
