by A. C. James
“Remind me again why I’m doing this.”
-Because the supernatural interests you. You said so yourself. I fascinate you, and you can’t help yourself, love.-
Her eyes widened infinitesimally. She shook her head and gave a nervous laugh. “I suppose curiosity has always been my downfall,” she muttered. “Let’s get this over with, but stop calling me ‘love’. I’m not your love. I’m not your mate. Do you bloody well understand what I’m saying?”
Niall ignored her and lowered himself to the ground so she could mount him. -Come on then. Since you want this over with.-
“No, thanks. I think I’ll walk.”
-It’s faster this way.-
Niall wanted her to accept him, and the sooner she got used to his stallion the better. Not to mention the sensuality of riding a púca might help her get over any lingering fear or anxiety she might have. And if he was lucky, maybe she’d realize she still wanted him. He could tell in the foyer, when she wouldn’t look at him, that it had nothing to do with modesty. He’d scented her arousal, but he’d sprung an awful lot on her in one night.
Felicity sighed. “Right. You win… I’m not going to stand here and argue with you. The sooner we investigate the construction site, the sooner I can go back to Pier House and calmly scream into a pillow.”
His stallion neighed. She’s funny. We like her. Niall shushed the beast as she walked toward him with what appeared to be mild irritation. But he hadn’t needed to use persuasion on her, and she’d only hesitated momentarily. Her sarcastic sense of humour was intact. All very good signs in their favour.
Felicity climbed onto him and wound her fingers into his mane, gripping her legs around him without squeezing, adapting more quickly than before. The restored memories of their first ride probably helped.
Niall rose from the ground and kept his pace at a nice, slow walk. Her hips were in rhythm with his movements, those generous curves moving from side to side as he began down the dark dirt road. When he felt her relax into his back, he picked up his pace.
At this late hour, they were passing darkened houses along the stone walls that lined the road. Her breathing quickened along with his gait. His stallion could smell her desire. He could sense both her amazement and her wariness at what she was feeling.
Púca were wired to respond to stimuli more intensely, more sensitively. He had speed, heightened eyesight, hearing, and the ability to pick up on mental states. Although he couldn’t read her mind, he could certainly read her less guarded emotions. But right then he didn’t have to, because the warmth building between her legs was a dead giveaway.
She was clamping her thighs around him, and her breathing and heartbeat had increased. Niall could feel her sex pulsing against his back, her stiff heels digging into his side. His stallion groaned. She wants us. We must claim her.
Not yet. He urged his steed to settle down. Her body moved in rhythm with his as he pounded down the misty road. His hooves hit the ground and cut off the sound of insects chirping around them. Her pulse blocked out everything else. It took unbearable restraint to keep his stallion in check. She was panting as she’d done earlier that day in his bed. Her hands were wrapped tightly in his mane. Her tugging it sent shivers down his stallion’s spine. Then every muscle in her body clenched around him, and the world seemed to explode—a thousand stars scattering in every direction—and with her orgasm he knew he’d found his one…
His true mate. Maité soul.
Of course, the Celts who’d intermingled with the púca-shifters had taken their legend and created the idea of Anam Cara. They’d only kept the spiritual connection and friendship. The púca mate bond could not be broken, even if one moved away and there was physical distance between them. Only death would break the bond. That was every mate bond, but when you found your true mate, maité soul, your other half…that eternal bond surpassed even death.
He marvelled at the revelation. It was as if his consciousness had been dulled, the world had been a little greyer, and every sense more distant until he’d found Felicity. He’d never believed in the true mate legend, but this was meant to be. Everything leading up to that moment had brought them together. She didn’t know it yet, but she would be his.
She will be ours. His stallion neighed possessively.
Chapter 3
Felicity tried to calm her breathing. She needed to cover the mortifying fact that she’d orgasmed as she rode Niall. She couldn’t help wondering if he knew. Don’t get your knickers in a twist. He probably doesn’t. Even though she tried to convince herself, she was pretty sure he’d be able to read her embarrassment through her rosy cheeks. She simply wouldn’t say anything to Niall and hope for the best.
He slowed to a walk then came to a halt behind a stone wall. It was down the road from the construction site. She climbed off his back and gave him some space to shift back to his human form.
His hooves receded, becoming hands and feet again—his legs shortened into human ones, and his front legs became arms. His stallion coat slid back into skin. She gaped in amazement as she watched him shift.
Damn.
She’d forgotten that he’d be naked once he shifted. Niall’s knob dangled between his legs. She took off the backpack containing his clothes and threw it at him. Hard. She turned her back and stared at one of the cracks in the stone wall like it was the most interesting thing going on.
It wasn’t working. Zzzip. The sound of him opening the backpack rang in her ears, followed by the ruffling of him dressing. Yes, he definitely needed to put some clothes on.
“Well that was… invigorating,” Niall said.
She couldn’t tell if he was teasing her, but it sure sounded like it. “Are your pants on?”
Zzzip. “Aye.”
Felicity turned around and swallowed. His pants were on, but his shirt wasn’t, and she got a fleeting glimpse of his chiselled abs before he pulled his t-shirt over his head. His muscles rippled as the cotton stretched across his chest. Why was he so bloody hot? He was a horse. A seriously hot horse. Ugh, she was a complete mess.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you ready?”
“Aye. There’s a flashlight in the pack,” Niall said as he tossed the backpack to her.
She caught it. “There’s only one in here,” she said, rummaging through it.
“I don’t need one. I packed it for you.”
He was being sweet to her again. Damn. That made it pretty hard for her to stay mad at him for hiding the truth. Especially considering there were lots of things people didn’t tell one another on first dates, or even second ones for that matter. But turning into a horse was a pretty big deal—not something you’d hear from your average bloke.
“Thanks,” Felicity said.
She took the flashlight out of the backpack, zipped it up, and slid her arms into the straps. She flicked it on and directed the dim yellow light at her feet. The clouds kept moving over the moon—one moment you could see clear as day, and the next you were shrouded in darkness.
The air was chilly, and she regretted wearing the sundress. It’d been great for Niall spinning her around a dance floor, but she hadn’t anticipated her date ending with horseback riding and sneaking around a construction site. It’s a wonder her thighs weren’t chafed, but Niall’s coat was the softest thing she’d ever touched. Not like a horse at all. Then again, he was a púca.
Niall nodded. “Come on. Follow me.” He edged his way around an opening in the stone wall, and they made their way to the construction site, cloaked in semi-darkness.
“What do you think we’ll find?” Felicity asked.
“The rock that construction worker allegedly fell on would be a good place to start. I’ll scent for it.”
“Scent for it?”
“Aye, I’ve got an acute sense of smell.”
Butterflies fluttered in her belly. Hopefully his nose wasn’t too good, or he might know about her orgasm on the ride. “I suppose it’s pretty handy having you
around after all.”
“I could give you a hand with a few other things.” His voice sounded like velvet, and his words still seemed to brush across her skin.
She wondered again if he had any idea what that ride had done to her. “Is there anything else you can…uhmm, smell?”
Niall laughed. “Aye. I know what happened during the ride, if that’s what ye mean. Admit it, love. You want me even after that orgasm. Why don’t we take care of that need right now?”
Felicity glared at him, but heat rushed to her cheeks. “Let’s just look for the rock.”
Niall shrugged. “If it’s not here, we’ll know he staged it.” He closed his eyes and sniffed the air. She rubbed her arms to block out the dampness seeping through her sweater. It hadn’t rained, but the air was humid as though it was going to. He opened his eyes and began walking.
Felicity followed him. “Did you get a whiff of anything?”
“No. We’ll split up. That way we can cover more ground. You head over there…” he said, gesturing accordingly, “…and I’ll circle around to meet you.”
“All right.”
Felicity slowly made her way around the edges of the site, keeping her flashlight pointed toward the ground, sweeping the light as she walked. This would have been much easier in daylight, but she wasn’t sure Mr. Archer would want her walking around a construction site chock full of tools. Too much liability. Her legs were sore from the ride, and there was no bloody rock in sight. All she wanted at this point was a long, hot bath. She’d walked maybe fifteen minutes or so when she smacked into Niall’s muscled mass, because she’d been focused on the ground, looking for evidence of a struggle or a rock covered with blood.
He caught her in his arms. “Steady, lass.”
“Let go of me,” she whispered.
“Do you really mean that?”
Felicity wasn’t sure she did, but she was afraid she might kiss him if she stayed in his arms. She needed time to process all of it, so she ignored his question and pulled away. His face fell when she stepped back, but he didn’t say anything.
“Did you find anything?” she asked.
“No. You?”
“No.”
“Then he lied to us,” Niall said.
“Can we start fresh and figure it out tomorrow? Please…it’s been a long night. Take me back to Pier House.”
“Aye, we’ll meet at the pub at noon tomorrow.”
She nodded. There was a hot bath with her name on it.
Chapter 4
Felicity was on her bed staring at the ceiling. She was both physically and mentally drained. Niall had walked her back to Pier House—he’d said he didn’t trust her walking alone after the worker had stumbled into the pub with a head wound. It was bloody sweet of him, but it was too much. Her brain was mush. She pushed off the bed and headed toward the bathroom. She turned on the water—so hot it fogged up the mirror—and sank into the comforting warmth of the tub.
She soaped up a washcloth and ran it across every weary inch of her body before leaning back to close her eyes. She was rather sore. Felicity’s gut told her she could trust Niall, and that he had nothing to do with the púca haunting or the injured worker. But she realized part of her was invested on an emotional level, which could cloud her judgment.
People on the island stopped believing in the Old Ways and in us.
Felicity opened her eyes as she remembered Niall’s words. If people on the island had believed in the púca, then someone might be able to give her a history lesson. It might help her figure out how to prove this ‘haunting’ was fictitious. She was pretty sure the worker had made his story up—what she didn’t know was why.
Although the púca did exist, she didn’t think they were responsible for the problems on the island. Maelíosa’s face flashed through her mind. Felicity wondered if they’d get blamed anyway. That wasn’t a story she wanted to write.
Tomorrow she’d go and ask the priest about the island’s history. She wasn’t meeting Niall until noon—that would give her plenty of time to question Father Cleary.
Felicity let the water out of the tub and stepped onto the bathmat. Her mobile rang from the other room while she was drying off. She wrapped the towel around herself and grabbed it off the bedside table.
“Hello?”
“I just called to check up on you girls and wanted to talk to Cyn. I tried calling her, but it went to voicemail.”
Felicity sighed. “She’s out right now.”
Static filled his pause, but it spoke volumes.
“I see,” Nathan said.
“Nathan…”
“It’s fine, Felicity. How’s the púca story coming along?”
She accepted his change of subject because she really didn’t want to get into it again. He’d have to come to terms with Cyn not returning his affection on his own. But she wasn’t ready to share the truth about her investigation with Nathan, either. Niall’s desire to make her his mate, the obvious attraction they shared, and her conflicted feelings about it weren’t on her list of things she could discuss. Her caring about Niall and her concern for his clan made her aware of how much she was hiding. How could she tell Nathan what she’d discovered if it could jeopardize Niall’s clan?
“Brilliant. Tomorrow I’m going to meet with the priest again. I want to ask him about the island’s history.”
“All right. I’ll speak to you later.” Nathan sounded tired.
“Good night.”
Felicity plugged her mobile in to charge it and changed into pyjamas. She knocked on Cyn’s door to see if she was still awake.
“Come in.” Cyn was sprawled across her bed, flipping through channels on the telly.
Felicity pulled back the covers and crawled in next to her friend. “Nathan called to talk to you.”
Cyn groaned. “Yes, I know. He left me a voicemail.”
“Why are you avoiding him?”
“He makes me feel bloody guilty, all right!?” she snapped. “And I shouldn’t be because we’re not together, but apparently he doesn’t get that. I know—he’s a great guy, and you probably think I’m awful.”
Felicity put a hand on Cyn’s arm. “I don’t think that at all. The two of you are my closest friends, and I want you both to be happy. I’ve tried to tell him. He’ll move on…eventually.”
“Right, and then he’ll never speak to either one of us. There’ll be no more Tom Kha Gai at Thai Thai on Tuesdays.”
The three of them ate at the tiny restaurant on Old Street every Tuesday—it was their thing. She and Cyn had been going there since they met back in university. Once she got the job at Everyday Supernatural, Nathan started tagging along, and Felicity didn’t want to lose that either.
“We’ve always been friends. It might not happen right away, but he will get over it. So how did it go with Tomas?” Felicity asked, changing the subject.
A wicked grin spread across Cyn’s face. “You’re not going to believe it.”
“What?”
“It was incredibly sexy and kind of romantic. When I told him I was a plus-size model, he bought this disposable camera, and we did a photo shoot.”
Felicity arched an eyebrow. “Were you naked?”
“Not like that—you perv!” She shrugged. “He did take one of me wearing a swimsuit.”
“Oh, really?”
Cyn smirked. “I was a bit surprised too. Tomas has been a complete gentleman. He still hasn’t bothered to kiss me, but then he suggested snapping a few photos. I really don’t get it, and it’s a bit irritating.”
Felicity wondered if Tomas was a púca too. Niall and Tomas were such good friends. Until she’d fully investigated and decided what she was going to write, she couldn’t tell Cyn, though. “Well, he obviously likes you. Why else would he take the photos?”
“I have no bloody idea.”
Still, if Tomas was pursuing Cyn and he was a púca…what then? “Promise you’ll be careful. All right?”
“You worr
y too much. It was just a bit of fun,” Cyn said with a Cheshire-Cat smile.
“And you don’t worry nearly enough.”
Cyn rolled her eyes. “What about your date with Niall?”
Felicity wished she could spill her guts to Cyn about everything “What if he told me something, and now I don’t see how I can be in a relationship with him? Not that I wanted one…”
“Whatever. You do want one. You don’t do one-nighters. Never in all the time I’ve known you.”
“Fine. I won’t argue. Maybe I do want more, but I’m serious. What if someone told you something that meant you couldn’t have a future with them?”
“Oh no. Don’t tell me he’s married.”
That’s what she’d thought, too. “No, nothing like that.”
“What’s the problem then?”
“He’s…” Felicity paused. “He has a complicated family.”
Cyn flipped to another channel. “Who doesn’t?”
“It’s a lot to process.”
“Well, if you really like the guy then give him a chance.”
“Maybe… But speaking of photo shoots, when do you have to be back in London?”
“I don’t have anything going for the next six weeks.”
Felicity nodded. “Brilliant. I’m going to need to stick around this week and look into some things. This story needs more research than I’d expected. One of the construction workers walked into the pub with a head wound. The whole town is spreading rumours about púca really existing.”
“I miss all the good stuff.”
Felicity laughed. “So tomorrow I’m going to see if the priest knows anything about the town history. You’re welcome to come along if you want.”
“We’ll see. I might sleep in. And I’m meeting up with Tomas for dinner.”
Cyn flipped to The Late Late Show, and they watched the host interview an entertainer. Hopefully tomorrow would bring some answers.
Chapter 5
Niall poured himself a shot of whiskey and swallowed it. It warmed him from the inside out. He welcomed it after the damp evening hiking through the construction site. Revealing himself to Felicity had gone far better than he’d expected. All he could do now was wait for her to come around.
