The tide shifted. His life force flooded back, pouring into Aoife at an increased rate. His love poured out, and it was greater than he'd ever imagined it could be. He grew light-headed, weaving on his feet, but Aoife's strong fingers dug into his shoulders and he willingly put his entire soul into her keeping.
He trembled, the room growing hazy and dim, and far off in the distance, he saw a bright light framing a doorway. The door cracked open, an even brighter light drawing him in with a sense of longed-for peace.
Aoife closed her eyes and cut off the flow from his soul. The door slammed shut. Logan collapsed.
Stephan and Angus caught him, supporting him as he fell to the ground.
Aoife held her hands out, palms down, over the glass of the coffin. She pulsed with the powerful glow of his life force, engulfed in a nimbus of white light. Logan’s eyes slitted with exhaustion, he could barely see the white light of his life flowing out of Aoife, through the glass, and into Trina.
Piece by piece, the green tendrils of the spell lost their lurid color, turned into brown withered vines, disintegrated, then disappeared.
Logan’s inner sight wavered as he leaned against his uncle in complete exhaustion. The last of his soul-light poured out of Aoife and into Trina, and Aoife crumpled into Rinnal’s waiting arms.
“Did it work?” Logan pushed himself up, and with Stephan and Angus’s help, staggered to the casket.
Trina lay beneath the glass. No movement. No breath. No sign of life. He tried and failed to focus his sight and see if any of the green of the spell was still there. But he couldn't gather enough energy from his depleted body to see if Trina’s soul had accepted his offering.
He seized Aoife's arm, his eyes burning. “She's not moving!”
He’d lost her.
He let go of Aoife and threw himself on the coffin, pressing his face to the hard glass and staring down where Trina lay unmoving. The biggest sacrifice of his life, wasted.
“It's not finished.” Aoife's voice rasped out, unbearably loud in the stillness of his loss. “You must finish it.”
“What else do I have to do?” He worked to pull himself up on heavy, weak limbs and face her. “You've taken so much, I can hardly move.” He was almost too tired to be angry. He didn't have much left, but what he had would be spent in Trina’s service.
The ancient fae stooped with exhaustion. She leaned heavily on his uncle, no longer looking young, her skin now creased and wrinkled with her thousands of years of life. “Open the lid.”
Logan wrestled with the weighty wooden lid of the coffin. “What should I do? Tell me!” Stephan and Angus rushed to help him lift the lid off and slide it to the side.
A scratchy laugh came from Aoife. “Kiss her, silly boy.” She leaned heavily on Rinnal. “What else would you do?”
Logan brushed a long stray hair off Trina's icy cheek. He leaned into the coffin, bracing his arms on the thick wooden walls, and tentatively brushed his mouth against her cold, unresponsive, ruby lips.
She didn’t move.
Desperation pushed him to kiss her again. Deeper. Pressing against her cold mouth and grinding his lips against hers, willing a response. “Come on,” he murmured against her lips. “Please.”
A tiny bit of warmth touched his mouth. He pulled back.
The frightening red of her mouth rushed from her lips into her cheeks, suffusing them with a delicate, pink glow. Pink flushed her neck, down through her arms, all the way to the beds of her fingernails. Her mouth opened. Her chest shuddered. She struggled to breathe and a small, rough cough wheezed out of rattling lungs. Air moved past her parted lips and blew on his cheek.
Trina’s black eyelashes fluttered like snared birds, and Logan held his breath.
Her limbs flailed. She thrashed, hitting the sides of the coffin. Her frantic hands scratched the sides of the wood as she endeavored to sit up. Logan reached in, using the last of his strength, and pulled her into his arms. The force of another hard, racking cough shook her body and, out of her mouth, flew a chunk of apple. Trina inhaled a huge gasping breath…
…and opened her eyes.
Air flooded Trina’s lungs. Her fingers and toes tingled with the rush of blood. She gazed around the dark torch-lit cavern at the crowd of men. “What in the name of Danu is going on?” she asked, her voice ragged in her sore throat.
Logan crushed her to him. “You're alive.” His face cracked and stretched into a huge smile. “She’s alive!”
She stared at his face in the dim light. Tiny lines that hadn’t been there before were now etched at the corners of his eyes and his skin was a pasty shade of grey.
“How do you feel, lass?”
“I’d feel better if you weren’t crushing me.”
He loosened his hold, but didn’t let go, keeping her held tight in his arms. “Better?”
“How did I get here? And what’s wrong with you?” She brushed his too-dry forehead with her hand. “You look sick.”
“He'll feel fine in a week or so.” A tall, pale woman with definite Tuathan ears peaking out of her long white hair leaned on Logan’s Uncle Rinnal. “That much energy takes time to replenish.”
“What happened?”
“He saved your life." The woman’s dark purple eyes glittered at Trina and she shrank back into Logan’s arms.
“Who are you?”
“This is Aoife, and she saved you. She saved us both,” he said, his voice husky with fatigue. “You nearly died.”
Everyone stared at Trina.
“Aoife, this is Aoife?” She looked around at the concerned faces. “What the hell happened? How did I get here? How did she get here? And what’s with the coffin?”
“I want to get you home.” Logan rose and pulled her to her feet.
“Nay, lad,” said Angus. “I don’t think we’ve anywhere safer than this at the moment. Ye’ll have to take refuge here like we did during the worst of the wars.”
“Sleep here?” Trina said, looking around the dark, damp, cavern. Her brain whirled as she tried to figure out what was happening. Her skin tingled. Sounds seemed very sharp and she felt juiced, like she could run forever.
Logan, on the other hand, looked like he was about to fall over.
“We’ll have to stay in the tunnels for a little while,” Logan said, running his thumb along the side of her wrist. “Just until we find a place to go, my love.” His intense, tender expression sent frissons of excitement prickling under her skin.
“I might have a suggestion.” Aoife said. The fae left Rinnal’s side and came to perch on the edge of the broken coffin. “There’s a resort in the Adirondacks that King Oberon owns. It’s private, and the queen wouldn’t dare to challenge the Golden King. You’ll have a place to recover and to plan your next move.”
“Oberon will never allow me into his demesne,” Logan said.
“He will.” Aoife stood, lifting her chin, her voice growing stronger. “I will arrange it.”
Logan shook his head. “I’m too damn tired to ask now, but be assured, it will come up…why you seem so sure the Sun King of the Gold Court will hop to your wishes and protect a miscreant like me.” He let go of Trina and crossed to where Aoife stood gathering up a sodden, starry blue cloak. “I owe you my life, and Trina’s.”
“Nay,” she said shaking her head. “You owed me this forfeit. We are even, Huntsman.”
“Thank you.” He bowed.
“But after I arrange sanctuary with Oberon, then you will owe me again.” She swept her enigmatic gaze over Trina. “You’ll both owe me.”
Trina bristled. “But what about the prophecy? What about my family?”
Aoife swept her cloak around her shoulders and crossed to the room’s entrance. “The huntsman knows.” She left.
“Now explain.” Trina demanded. “Explain why I feel like lemon-lime soda has replaced all my blood, we’re back in the tunnels, and you look like crap.”
“We’ll be outside, lad,” Rinnal said, ushering Angus a
nd Stephan out of the cavern and leaving Trina and Logan alone in the flickering torchlight.
Logan picked up her hand, idly tracing the lines in her palm. His blue eyes were dark and serious. “We need to talk, lass.”
Trina’s stomach flipped. “This doesn’t sound good.”
“When we did the spell, when Aoife saved your life, we had to do something I never thought could be done.” His hand squeezed hers. “She helped me transfer some of my life force to you.”
“What does that mean? I’m part fae now?”
“You’ve always been part fae, that’s your gypsy heritage. And that may be why we were able to do it at all. I don’t know.” He sat on the coffin and pulled her to him, cradling her between his spread thighs, wrapping his hands around her hips, and cupping her backside. “What it means is that you will live a very long life for a human, much longer than the already extended gypsy life that was yours.” His hands dug into her muscles, massaging her hips. Her pelvis softened. “There may be other repercussions.”
“Is that all?” she asked. Her breathing quickened as he stroked up and down her hips and back, curls of excitement racing through her core. “I almost die and now I get to live a long life? What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing.” Logan pulled her down to her knees and she settled between his thighs. The energy racing through her blood tingled as she leaned into him, fitting her pelvis to his erection.
“It’s a good thing. A very good thing,” he murmured, continuing to stroke down the small of her back, the length of her hips, and the curve of her ass. “But there’s something else. I need to let you go.”
A hard, cold lump settled in Trina’s ribcage.
He didn’t want her.
“What?” She struggled against his grip. “I can’t believe you just said that.” After all of her attempts to leave, now he was going to let her go. Just…like…that. Now that she knew she was in love with him and that they had a chance to be true partners, she didn’t want to leave.
“When Aoife has convinced the king to offer sanctuary, you and your family will be safe,” he said. “You can make a permanent home under the Golden King’s protection. “But I have left my quest too long. I’m bound now to discover what has become of my prince. I can’t take you with me, and I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”
His words said he was leaving her, but he held her close, his hands caging her possessively until she stopped struggling.
“I’ll go with you.”
“I need to leave you somewhere safe. Somewhere I’m sure you’re protected.” He leaned in and rested his face on her belly. “And that’s not with me.”
She pushed his face up and held his cheeks between her palms. “I just need to change how I defend myself. Prepare spells and potions ahead of time. Learn some hand-to-hand skills instead of trying to hide. I can’t hide, Logan. It’s done no good. I need to learn more than lengthy trap spells. You can teach me.”
“It’s too dangerous for you, and now we know the queen is aware of my deception, she’ll be looking for me, too. You must stay somewhere safe. And it isn’t with me.”
“But what about the prophecy? You say we’ll be safe, but you’re abandoning the quest to keep us safe forever? The queen won’t give up her quest to kill my family or me.”
“Aoife gave me the prophecy. I’ll share it with you. Your quest is over, now you need to consult learned men and women to find out how to circumvent the prophecy. You’ll have access to that with Oberon. And the queen will leave you alone.”
Was there no way he would stay with her? Did he even want to?
He looked intently up at her, his hands clenching her hips. “I feel badly that I took advantage of you before.” He let go of her and reached into his pocket, pulling out the rolled up contract. He stood up.
“Trina MacElvy, I release you from your bond. You are freed from my service, without obligation.”
The rock in Trina’s chest fell into her stomach. Tears clogged up her still sore throat.
He truly didn't want her. She had been just an amusement and now he would move out of her life.
“You don’t want me?” After all of this, she had lost her heart to a man who wasn’t destined to stay, didn’t even want to stay with her.
“No. I didn’t mean…” Logan’s face contracted. “That’s not what I said.”
He dropped to one knee and clasped her hands between his. “Trina, I need you. You are under no obligation to stay with me. You’re not my servant. You’re free to choose.”
She stopped struggling and stared at him. “What are you saying?”
His voice dropped to a near whisper. “Trina, I love you.” He bowed his head. “Please choose me.”
She stared at the top of his head, his shaking hands clinging to hers.
“I love you, Logan.”
He lifted his face, fire lighting his eyes.
“But I can’t choose you unless you know that I will not go into hiding. I want to learn more than just defensive spells that take too long to work. I want to learn spells that will work faster, better, and be more effective. I know I can’t be your magical equal, but I can be a warrior in this fight against the queen.”
She pulled him to his feet.
“Logan Ni Brennan, can you take me on as a partner? Someone to mentor, not lock away?”
They were bound now by more than circumstance, more than a contract, and more than personal loyalty. His life ran in her veins. He’d sacrificed everything to save her. Could he do more? Could he become a new man, one who accepted that, even with the dangers lying in wait for her, she was the kind of woman who faced them head on?
His hands tightened on hers.
His breathing quickened.
“I don’t know if I can bear to risk you. You are more important to me than myself.” His hand rose to her cheek and slid warm against her jaw. “If you can put up with my occasional tendency to lock you away,” his lips quirked into his familiar cheeky grin, “I will try to respect your need to fight your own battles. Is it enough? Will you choose me?”
He wouldn’t change overnight, but he was willing to try for her. To try for them both.
“You’re far from perfect,” she said, her lips curving up. “You’re arrogant and conceited and more than a little high-handed.”
His grin spread wide.
“Despite all that, I choose you.” She rose up on her toes and kissed him. “Freely, of my own will. I choose you.”
Logan pulled Trina close in, crushing his lips to hers. She opened her mouth, taking his tongue in and deepening the kiss. Licks of desire revved up her blood.
“Oh!” she said.
“What?” He nuzzled her neck, sliding his fingers into her jeans at the small of her back. She shuddered.
“Everything is different, brighter, sharper.” She kissed him again, a deep purr rising in her throat. She sighed. “You taste…like nirvana.”
“Mmmm,” he said, and caressed the skin of her back, tracing teasing fingers along the skin under her jeans.
Liquid heat pooled between her legs, her folds growing slick and wet. She slid her hands under his shirt and around his waist, pulling him in closer to settle against her jeans. He rocked into her and she ground against him. “Take this off,” she urged. Tugging first his jacket and then his shirt from his shoulders she took the time to touch and explore the muscles that ridged his stomach, licking kisses down to his pants.
“Hold on,” he gasped, tugging her up. “Let me touch you or I’m never going to last.” He sat on the wide side of the casket and pulled her to him. “Come up here.” He patted his lap and braced his legs as she straddled him, her slippered feet dangling down inside to touch the silk, padded lining.
Hands trembling, he stripped her of her shirt and bra. When she was exposed, he lay his head on her breasts and breathed on the sensitive skin in the valley between. “I love the way you smell.”
He licked out, skimming the side of her b
reast. She wrapped her legs tighter around him and shook.
“And I love the way you taste,” he growled, vibrating against her skin.
Trina rocked against him. Logan tightened his hands on her waist and his tongue flicked out and skimmed her nipple causing it to peak and pearl. She moaned. He lifted his head and licked it again, sucking and running the edge of his teeth along the wet, tight bud, his fingers digging into her waist.
She threw her head back, glorying in the connection between his mouth, her breast, and the open, widening sensation in her pelvis.
“I need you.” He rasped against her breast. “I can’t wait any longer.”
With fever-hot hands, Trina undressed, watching Logan tug off his pants. He sat back on the edge of the casket, his engorged cock rose up, weakening her with desire. “Come here,” he said.
She climbed on, teasing her wet folds against his tip. Logan groaned. “I’m going to spill right here. I want to come inside you.”
Trina laughed. Secure in his desire, she slid onto his shaft. “Oh,” she said, suddenly serious. She held still and gazed into his now familiar eyes, her muscles tightening around him.
“I love you, Trina MacElvy. Spend forever with me.”
“Yes,” she hissed and arched her back, pushing him deeper inside. He dug his fingers into her waist and helped her slide up and down. She leaned into him, their weight over-balanced and they toppled over into the white, satin-lined coffin. Logan twisted, controlling their landing.
“Umph,” she said, and they both started to laugh.
Logan’s eyes grew serious. “Now, my lady,” he said.
Joy surged through her body. She leaned down, tasted his mouth, and moving in an easy rhythm, she rode him to her crescendo.
Curled together in the coffin, Trina scrolled her fingers on Logan’s chest and looked at the flickering torches. “So, I have to know. What is the prophecy?”
Logan’s eyes sparkled. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“Yes!” She pummeled him on the arm. “What is it?”
The Dark Huntsman: A Fantasy Romance of The Black Court (Tales of The Black Court Book 1) Page 27
