“Yes. It’s a race; or a species, I suppose you could call it. The sidhe are the denizens of Faerie you would look at and equate most closely with humans. We look similar, have similar biologies, even some similarities in culture and civilization.”
She positioned her head on his shoulder so she could tilt it back and watch his face as he spoke. “But the sidhe are only one group.”
“Correct. There are others, some of whom look similar to humans to varying degrees. Brownies, for instance, could pass for humans in some circumstances. And gnomes are occasionally taken for humans with dwarfism. Even some greater imps can pass, though usually not in daylight. But other creatures could never be mistaken that way.”
“For instance?”
“Nightmares and kelpies are an example. They look a bit like horses. And sprites, pixies, and imps. Those are what most closely resemble the Tinker Bell–style ‘fairies’ that humans are always going on about.”
Corinne had begun to get the idea. “And the barghest.Did I imagine that looking like some kind of hairy, four-legged pit bull from hell?”
His expression turned grim. “No, you didn’t imagine that. They often appear as enormous black dogs.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right. But if it’s another creature from Faerie, how did it get here in Manhattan? Are those doors still not being guarded?”
“I’m not sure.” Luc’s hands stroked her arms absently. The lightest touch made her shiver and lean closer. “I am, however, becoming very curious.”
“About?”
“When it was discovered that Seoc had snuck out of Faerie and into Ithir,everyone assumed that he’d made his way here using one of the doors in the sealed chamber that had been left unguarded.”
“Well, how else would he do it? You said the Queen sealed all the doors except for the ones she controls.”
“As much as the Queen might like to think it, she is not infallible.” He adjusted her position, dropping his hand to her hip where it cupped and fondled. “The doors have existed for a lot longer than Mab has held the throne—so long that no one knows exactly how they were created. On rare occasions, someone even stumbles over one that has never been discovered before. Or that was hidden very carefully.”
Corinne nodded. “Like that one you said was found at the Winter Court. Which is something I don’t understand, by the way. Does Faerie have an organized judicial system?”
“Not that kind of court. The royal courts. The sidhe in Faerie are divided into two halves—the Summer Court ruled by Queen Mab, and the Winter Court ruled by her former consort, King Dionnu.”
A low whistle met that revelation. “Wow. When they split up, they divided the entire civilization between them? Talk about nasty breakups.”
“Mab can hold a grudge.”
“I’ll say.”
“Anyway, doors are occasionally found and used until Mab hears of it and has them sealed as well. It’s possible that Seoc left Faerie not through one of the doors Mab controls, but through another entrance entirely.”
That made perfect sense. “And if there’s a door in Faerie that no one else knows about, the barghestcould have come through it. And you implied earlier that the doors don’t always work both ways, so maybe whoever comes through it in this direction—”
“Like Seoc.”
“—can’t use it to return.”
“Exactly.”
“Then do you think Seoc sent the barghestafter us?” she asked. “Could that have been what attacked you on the way here yesterday?”
“Yes and no. Yes, I think Seoc must be responsible. Unless you can think of anyone else from Faerie who might want to see you injured.” He waited until she shook her head and nodded meaningfully. “But no, it wasn’t the barghestwho came after me yesterday. They’re creatures that can’t exactly blend into a crown of humans. Other than the black dog, the only form they take is of a goblin.”
“A goblin?” She tried to form a mental picture.
“Humanoid, but uglier than sin. Huge nose, claw-like fingers, and ears like a big-eared bat. Think something out of a bad horror film.”
“Right. Probably someone would have noticed that. But that means there are at least two people out there trying to get us killed. Unless Seoc could have been there in the crowd yesterday?”
Luc shrugged. “It’s possible. I wasn’t looking for him, so he could have been there under a glamour that I just didn’t catch.”
Corinne groaned. “How can this possibly keep getting more complicated?”
“We’re just lucky, I guess.”
“That’s one word for it.”
He chuckled and leaned forward until his forehead pressed against hers.
With those amazing green eyes just inches from her own, she felt an entirely new sort of tension creep into her muscles, the kind that had nothing to do with being attacked on the street by a monstrous black dog from the great beyond. Instead, it had to do with the warmth of Luc’s breath on her skin, and the weight of his hand on her hip. It had to do with the strength of his arms around her, and the way her heart seemed to adjust its rhythm to beat in time with his.
“I…I guess it’s better to know,” she murmured, her eyes dropping helplessly to his mouth, so tantalizingly close. “I mean, to know what’s possible.”
He cast her the sort of heavy-lidded glance that made her belly tighten and her mouth water. Of course, the way things were going, she wasn’t sure he had any glances that didn’t affect her the same way. Was it possible to want someone more with every passing minute?
Was it possible to care about someone this fast?
Luc angled his head until she felt his breath tangle with hers, their lips in perfect alignment, if perhaps a little too far apart for her tastes. His smile was slow, intent, and predatory. “Oh, sweetheart. I can think of any number of things that are possible just now.”
Somehow, she didn’t think he was talking about Seoc anymore.
She licked her lips, watching his eyes darken as they savored the movement. She wondered if he was picturing himself catching the pink tip of her tongue between his teeth. She also wondered why he didn’t go ahead and suit actions to images.
“Possible?” she questioned, her voice barely more than a whisper. Need had closed her throat too much to allow anything else. “Or just…appealing.”
He continued to tease her, shifting his head back and forth so that his breath teased her like a feathery caress across her lips. It felt like a butterfly kiss, and it made her ache to taste him. She could remember his flavor vividly, sharp and dark and addictively spicy. She wanted more.
“Well, some of the things I’m thinking might be iffy, but I’m willing to work on proving or disproving the theories,” he purred. “I will require assistance, though.”
Corinne fought the urge to wrestle Luc down onto the carpet and sexually assault him, in blatant defiance of rug burn and stiff muscles and all the other downsides to floor sex. As it was, she could feel her palms itching and her body clenching. Some people might find the news surprising, but she’d never been into overpowering her partner. Maybe she’d been missing something.
Frustration finally made her desperate. Throwing off the enveloping folds of the lap blanket, she twisted in his grasp until she could wrap her arms around him and sink her fingers in the thick, dark silk of his hair. The band he’d used to club back the long strands snapped and went flying. Corinne used her grip on the length of it to drag his mouth to hers.
“Enough teasing,” she gasped, sinking her teeth into the flesh of his lower lip and worrying it with fierce delicacy. “What do you say we start exploring those possibilities?”
“I say you still need to buy a bigger bed.”
He growled the words against her mouth just before he sealed it with his own, sending the heat between them into a flare-up she was surprised didn’t set off her smoke detectors. They kissed deeply, frantically, as they tumbled around on the sofa cushions. Tongues tangled, teet
h nipped, lips crushed as if it had been weeks since the last time they’d touched instead of just hours. She couldn’t believe any man could make her this frantic, but Luc could.
The instant she touched him, her body began screaming with need, as if he were water and she’d been lost in a desert. She wondered if this was how addicts felt about their fixes, this bone-deep ache to have him, as if she couldn’t draw another breath unless he forced the air deep into her lungs.
He tore his mouth from hers and buried it against her breasts, drawing in her scent and laving the soft skin along her neckline with long strokes of his tongue.
“Lady, I can’t believe I need you so badly,” he groaned. “What have you done to me that I need you this much?”
Corinne moaned, the only reply she could make. It almost frightened her to hear him speak her own thoughts out loud, but she found it vaguely comforting as well. Hearing that, at least she knew she wasn’t in this situation all by herself. If he felt about her as strongly as she felt about him, at least she didn’t have to worry about an imbalance of power.
What had started with a slow burn of need quickly erupted into a flashfire of desperate lust. She tore at his clothing until fabric ripped and garments went sailing across the room. She thought she heard a crash as Luc’s jeans flew into some unsuspecting object, but she couldn’t have cared less. She was too busy savoring the heat of his bare skin pressing against her own.
She stroked hr hands over warm bone and muscle, murmuring her approval. His body fascinated her, hard and hot to the touch, but so supple and so vibrantly alive. She could have touched him for hours.
Luc, though, didn’t appear to have that kind of patience. His own hands remembered everything they’d learned about her the night before and unerringly sought out all the soft, secret places that made her head spin and her breath catch and her legs weaken. He exploited the knowledge ruthlessly, driving her deeper and deeper into the flames.
Well, two could play at that game. Squirming out of his grip, she bent her head and trailed her lips across his broad chest, following the center crease like a road map to his own personal vulnerability.
When she took him in her mouth, he groaned something obscene.
She smiled and let her teeth and tongue play over sensitive flesh. The way he responded enthralled her. Every touch, every movement, every change in pressure or direction caused his entire body to tauten or flex, to shift or writhe. She felt like a puppeteer moving invisible strings and making her partner dance.
But there was, apparently, a limit to his self-control. He reached it in seconds, his hands shifting from their death grip on her hair to curl around her arms and drag her back up his body until her racing heart pressed up against his and their mouths mated once again like two halves of a magical whole.
She realized the truth of that on an elemental level as he laced their fingers together and gave himself up to the kiss, seeming content to taste her forever. When they made love, it didn’t matter who was Fae and who was human, who had powers and who didn’t. When they came together, Corinne possessed as much magic as Luc, because being with him made her magical. Together they generated the kind of power that couldn’t be contained in just one physical body. It was too much—it must have been stronger than even the Faerie Queen herself, on her best day.
Corinne pulled away and pressed her lips against his throat, his cheeks, his chin. Joy filled her, the joy of being in the perfect place with the perfect man for the perfect moment. When she returned her mouth to his, that joy radiated from her and infused the kiss. Slowly, tenderly, their tongues tangled, no longer frantic or wild, but hungry and wanting and reverent, as if Luc, too, understood the epiphany she had just experienced. She opened her eyes as they kissed and found him watching her. Their gazes locked as he drew her over him and adjusted their bodies until they slid into place like pieces of a puzzle.
Despite the position, Corinne didn’t ride him; she worshipped him. Sinking slowly down over him, she whispered with her body of his strength and virility, his courage and intelligence. With her body she compared him to a god, and he responded in kind.
Grasping her hips in his hands, he held her tightly against him as they rocked slowly together, not thrusting or withdrawing, but gently rocking like the ocean waves, his body worshipping her in return. Silently, he compared her to a goddess, showing her the ripe promise of her form, the depth of her tender heart. He showed her the capacity of her body to receive, and the capacity of her heart to give.
They stared into each other’s eyes for hours, days, lifetimes, all the while joined together, body to body and heart to heart, in a union both elemental and sacred.
Corinne found herself fighting back tears, and she shook her head in denial. She didn’t want anything to mean this much, especially not sex, but she was afraid she was already much too late. This was more than sex, more than lovemaking. Somehow, when she wasn’t paying attention, it had become communion, and she feared she’d never be the same again.
In the end, their climax came upon them together, building like the wave their motions mimicked, drawing them under with a powerful force, then lifting them again to the surface and washing them ashore, clean and new and reborn.
TWELVE
Some people apparently had no respect for re-birth.
At first Corinne thought the pounding was in her head, but when it was accompanied by a shout, she sat bolt upright on the sofa and stared at her front door. It practically vibrated under the force of the fist that pounded against it. Before she could react, Luc shifted her to the side, slid off the sofa, and appeared at the door between one breath and the next. In his hand he held a lethal-looking silver dagger, and he put his shoulder against the door before he said a word.
“Who is it?” he demanded, voice low and rough and wary.
“Luc, damn it, open the door before I open it myself. It’s Fergus.”
Corinne frowned. “Who?”
“Just put on some clothes,” Luc instructed. “Wear my T-shirt.”
She pulled the too-large shirt on over her head and was reaching down to grab his jeans for him when he opened the door. “Luc!”
“Luc, it’s about time. I have news.”
Corinne watched, horrified, as Luc opened her front door—stark naked—to admit an enormous, auburn-haired man wearing worn blue jeans, a slate-colored T-shirt, and a four-foot broadsword. And his name, apparently, was Fergus.
“What are you doing here?” Luc demanded, apparently oblivious to the fact that he was still bare-assed and probably reeking of sex. Corinne blushed crimson and threw his jeans at his head, half wishing they were made of stone. Though from what she’d learned over the last couple of days, granite would shatter on impact with something as hard as Luc’s head. He looked at her a little oddly, but obligingly pulled on his jeans.
“Rafe told me where you would be.” Fergus stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him and ignoring Corinne completely. She wasn’t sure if she was insulted or relieved. “The Queen sent me after you.”
Luc cursed, stalking back toward the sofa to grab his socks and boots. He sat to pull them on. “For Lady’s sake, I’ve been here two days. What’s her bloody royal rush?”
Fergus looked incredulous. “Have you ever known her to be patient before?”
“Fine, but we don’t have anything concrete to report to her, so you’ll have to tell her you’ve wasted your trip.”
The red-haired Fae winced. “Have mercy, Luc. You can’t send me back entirely empty-handed. She’ll crucify me.”
Luc hesitated for an instant, then nodded. “Fine, but at the moment all I have to give you are theories and the questions we’ve just started asking. So far, the answers haven’t been as easy to find.”
Corinne listened while Luc briefly—very briefly—summarized their work over the last twenty-four hours. Fergus seemed to take it like a blow to the gonads. He even turned a little pale.
“Then the situation is more
serious than I thought,” the lieutenant murmured.
Luc frowned. “How do you mean?”
Corinne watched while the other man collected himself. “Mab was prompted to send me by a new development at home—a ripple at the Woodland Door.”
Fascinated, Corinne watched as Luc looked up from concealing his dagger in his boot and gave his friend a disbelieving stare. “That’s impossible.”
“So the Queen thought, but apparently we’re all mistaken.”
“What’s the Woodland Door, and why was it rippling? And who the hell are you, by the way?”
Both men turned to Corinne with a look of surprise. They’d probably forgotten she was there. She glared up at them, wishing she were wearing something other than Luc’s enormous T-shirt, even if it did cover her from neck to knees. She’d curled her legs up against her chest so she could pull the hem all the way down to her ankles. It still left her lacking a certain amount of dignity.
Fergus spoke first, after raising his eyebrows and giving her an appraising once-over. “This one is not your usual type, friend. A little…ordinary, don’t you think?”
“She’s extraordinary enough to make you eat your teeth if you talk about her like that again,” she growled, eyes narrowing in a violent glare. She decided quickly that she really didn’t like Fergus.
Luc put his arm around her and hugged her to his side, sending Fergus a glare of his own. “Corinne, this is Fergus of Eithdne. He serves as my lieutenant, when he’s not making an ass of himself. And sometimes when he is.” Fergus didn’t even blink at the insult. He was too busy watching them curiously. “Fergus, this is Corinne D’Alessandro.”
Fergus looked from Corinne to Luc and back again. “She’s human.”
He said it the way he might’ve said She’s a woolly mammoth—with total disbelief, as if checking to make sure Luc hadn’t missed the pertinent facts.
“She’s also not deaf, you Fae freak,” she growled, “so you might want to try being civil. Or don’t you guys have manners where you come from?”
Not Your Ordinary Faerie Tale Page 16
