With a Kiss

by Stephanie Fowers

  Chapter Seventeen

  My grief! My grief! that bitter hour drained the life from me;

  I thought him human lover, thought his lips on mine were cold,

  And the breath of death blew keen on me within his hold.

  —Ethna Carbery, The Love Talker

  The sun was hot on my shoulders, caressing the bare skin on my arms. It felt like it would never snow again. I lifted my head to the sky. Instead of blue, it was the most brilliant white I had ever seen. It bathed the world in white. Nothing in the Otherworld compared to it.

  The Otherworld? Was that a dream? Wait. The Sidhe. That was the place that didn't seem real, so why did home seem so far away now? I wandered through a grove of trees in a white dress, my toes sinking into the soft, wet dirt. A deep sadness filled me, and I tried to remember why.

  I had never been to this grove before, and yet it felt so familiar. Hobs called my name, and I circled to see him standing there behind me. As soon as I saw the expression on his face, I remembered something about being sad. I had lost him somehow, but that seemed impossible, now. Here he was, looking as calm and carefree as he had the last time we had been together.

  His hand found mine. The contours of his palms felt natural against my skin, and I tried to recall why that was wrong. He wore white too, blending into the air until I began to suspect that the evil hag had gotten to us and we were dead. He kicked my bare foot mischievously. I kicked him back and he laughed. No, we weren't angels. My stomach rumbled in hunger, another reminder we were very much alive.

  Hobs smiled down at me, the wind blowing against his white shirt. He plucked a pomegranate fruit from a tree and cracked it open, peeling out three seeds. "Eat. They won't hurt you." He brought the seeds to my lips, and I clamped my mouth stubbornly shut against them. In mock exasperation, he chucked the seeds at me and I ran from him, laughing.

  My dress caught the wind. I felt free, though it wasn't too long before I was back in his arms. He swung me around until he held me tightly. My laughter cut short at his intense expression. I was drawn to it. With a sinking in my stomach, I realized my sadness had something to do with how I felt about him.

  He studied me in return. "You're so beautiful." I was shocked that he was so solemn, and he laughed, making that sound tragic, too. He smoothed my dark hair from my face. "It's been so long, Leannan Sith. I've always loved you . . ."

  I woke up from his confession with that same strong hand warming my fingers. "Do you want to go home?"

  Feeling groggy, I opened my eyes. The spell of sleep was immediately broken. I didn't know why I had been expecting Hobs. Well, I had been dreaming about him, but the man holding my hand in the dim morning light was gorgeous. Not that Hobs wasn't attractive, but this man took my breath away. He had coal-black eyes and sand in his hair. Uh yeah—sand. Something was wrong.

  "Follow me." His hand stroked my cheek, his eyes smoldering. He didn't need to speak. I knew what was in those eyes, such amazing eyes—they worshipped me, but they didn't belong to Hobs. So, why should I care? With the knowledge of wakefulness, I remembered why I was so sad. Hobs was someone else's prince. I searched out his bedroll in the snow. He slept across the way in his rumpled clothes, his hand resting in the fire. I jumped. Hobs wasn't lying—the flames didn't burn. The fire gave the predawn air an unearthly glow—appropriate, considering where we were.

  Babs was still asleep, her head burrowed into my side. She used my coat for a pillow. Bugul snored loudly a little farther away. It was the loudest I had ever heard him. Did that mean the muting spell was wearing off? They were all sleeping so heavily. It wasn't too much of a stretch to believe that this beautiful man who now invaded my personal space had done something sinister to cause it.

  He tugged at my hand again, oozing a charm that a normal person would not be able to resist. "Come." When I didn't, he knelt next to me in the snow, cutting a dashing figure in his blue tailcoat, white knickers, and boots—everything a Prince Charming should be. He was nothing like Hobs—Hobs wasn't mine anyway.

  I sighed. "I can't."

  The beautiful man looked confused. His eyebrows drew in, which almost made me laugh. He must always get what he wanted, but one: I wasn't a morning person. My whole family knew that. And two: my newly opened heart was broken. I tried to wave the dream away, and buried my face back into the arm I used as my pillow.

  The man changed tactics, his fingers sliding through my messed-up hair until they were hopelessly entangled, which actually didn't feel very romantic at all. He chanted something. "Brow-girt with golden circlet, that doth bear A small bright scintillating star between Her braids of dusky hair." I pulled up to stare at the guy, and he drew me to him, his lips a breath away from mine. "That, my love, is who you are, though you are even more perfect in person than those words suggest."

  I struggled to my knees and removed my fingers from his with difficulty. Yes. Something didn't feel right. I didn't normally feel anything, yet somehow this guy had managed to snag a bit of my heart. Just a bit of it. Someone I refused to think about still had a huge chunk of it, but even that felt more natural than this. Who was this guy? I sat up, still feeling like this was a dream. He was too charming, too slick, too handsome. If this wasn't a dream . . . he was evil. Wasn't he?

  My head ached. I glanced over at Babs, and my mouth dropped. She was further away. Hobs and Bugul were too. They slept where I had left them. The man had led me away from the protective circle of fire. Subtle shades of pink and orange filtered through the trees of the forest. The sun was already rising, which meant I had been stuck in some strange spell that made me forget time. How long had we been going at this?

  I planted my feet and cleared my throat, getting ready for the biggest inner struggle of my life. "I can't go with you."

  The beautiful man looked surprised, and I knew I had to think fast before he turned into a monster and carried me away. I mean, the guy didn't have a shadow. The fact that I didn't have one either was irrelevant. I brushed some of his sand off my hand. He must work for the hag, and she needed to trick me away from Babs to get her.

  I tried to think of an escape while throwing him off guard. "Though I like you."

  "You like me?" He chuckled low in his throat and reached for my hand again. "No, you love me." His words were alluring, and silly. The spell he was weaving made me feel lethargic, but I didn't think it was working like it was supposed to. It probably meant there was something wrong with me. Maybe I did have a sliver of ice still left in my heart. For once, it worked in my favor.

  "Your shadow's gone," I said. "Has it run away from you too?" His eyebrows drew in, and I decided to play the flirtatious card. "My love." I could probably get some information out of him this way. My heart beat heavily at the danger, which I figured was very near to infatuation. "Who sent you?"

  "The same one who sent your protector, but he didn't do his job. Never fear, my dear, I will."

  "My protector?" Our protector was Bugul. The wolves, nymphs, and Merrow had made that clear, but this man was talking about Hobs. I was sure of it. I had to ferret out the truth once and for all. "Was Hobs sent by the queen?"

  The man tried to yank me to him again, but I rooted myself to the ground like a tree. "The talisman he wears." He desperately tried to catch my eyes. "It will show you his orders. Believe me. He doesn't do any of this for you. He wants you for himself."

  Me? My hand tightened over the man's and I started tugging him back. I'd make him tell me what he meant. It was Babs everyone wanted, not me. "You're lying."

  "Would I lie to my lo . . ." He gulped mid-word, for the first time seeing the horrible Bugul sleeping behind us. "What is that?"

  I gave him my most dangerous smile. "Just one of my protectors."

  "That's why Hobany hasn't . . ." He backed away, but his hand was still interlocked with mine, and I came unwillingly with him, sliding through the slick snow. I tried to get away, but if I didn't go voluntarily, then what? He'd take me kicking and screaming? Th
ese faeries would do anything to get me away from the princess, but I wouldn't leave her alone, not here, not with them.

  The nerves in my brain finally felt like they were connecting, and as I felt them reach wherever I kept my fear center, I screamed as loud as my lungs could carry my voice. I gasped for air, seeing the glowing eyes of the Grim appear behind the man in the deepest, darkest part of the forest, like they were waiting for me the whole time. Now real terror exploded through my body, and I screamed again. The sound of it echoed through the woods. I twisted to see Bugul, Hobs, and Babs still sleeping soundly. They were caught in a spell—they had to be, not to hear that.

  The beautiful man smiled crookedly. "Play with fire and you get burned, my lovely oaf."

  "What?" I shouted. "And I suppose you think you're the fire? Did they actually think you were enough to tempt me into the woods? You're frog's breath, as far as I'm concerned."

  I really didn't think he'd get it, but his dark eyes sliced into furious slits, and, wrenching me to him, he threw me over his shoulder. The sand from his hair spilled over me, and I choked on the dust of it. "Disgusting!" I shouted. "What are you, a sand creature?"

  He growled in response, and I tried to fight him, but it did no good. I knew I was small, but I had no idea how small until now. "Let me go!" I threw my fists against him.

  His elegant boots thudded beneath me as he brought me closer to the thickest part of the forest. The light of the sun traveled over the top of the trees, brightening the world, but leaving the foliage in the woods alone. It was still as black as night inside the thick snarl of branches and thorns. "Got your supper," he announced to the Grim. I kicked him hard. He grunted at the impact, but my satisfaction was short-lived when I tumbled over the guy into the slippery snow like an offering to the dark forest.

  "Hobs!" I shouted. Forget what the man said about him. Whether it was true or not, it was time for Hobs to break whatever sleeping spell he had over him and come claim his ill-gotten captive. I'd figure out how to escape him later. "Hobs!" I shouted. "Please! I need you!"

  My hands paled in response, and I stared down at them as the warmth of the nymph kisses left my skin in a rush. It turned them all cold and tingly. Uh-oh. What had I done? A white color crept up my arms where Hobs had slathered the nymph kisses all over me. What had he done?

  The beautiful man's angry face swooped down next to mine. He clawed at my wrists and pulled me off the ground so he could chuck me into that horrible forest. I fell headlong into the rough branches of a pine. It didn't hurt as badly as being separated from Babs. The ache in my head felt like it would split me in two.

  I slipped over the fresh powder, feeling the snow explode under my chin. My hands hurt with the cold and were hard to move. I scrambled to my trembling feet, and my gaze went up and up and up, seeing tall and beautiful women with pale skin and shimmering eyes surround me. These were the Shades? I took a deep breath. They were just ghosts. What could they possibly do to me?

  One Shade drifted my way, catching me in the swish of her skirts. It sent searing pain through my arm. I cried out. Okay, so that's what they could do. A deep burn pulsed through my suddenly white skin. Another Shade came at me, and I ran the other direction, tripping over some tree roots. I almost fell flat on my face, until something tickled over my feet—brown bodies, too many of them, scurrying past. I firmly righted myself to keep from landing on them. Kobold. Nasty sighting number two.

  Darker, humanlike shapes loomed over me, making me forget all about the creepy-crawly things. I staggered backwards. These creatures were horned and tall as trees. One of the wispy silhouettes howled at me, and I covered my head, trying to hide. There was no escape. Awful, terrifying things crowded me in.

  The beautiful man laughed from the safety of the clearing. Sunlight filtered through the trees over him. "The Grim howl when someone is about to die," he called out. "You can no longer hide behind your protectors, my love."

  The Grim's massive black fur bristled as they came closer. Their fangs dripped with spittle. The tallest of them bent completely in half, leaping for me. I fell back against the tree and covered my head with my freezing hands, waiting for the feeding frenzy. Nothing happened. The Grim's howl broke into a pained one. I opened my eyes to see it fall just short of me, an arrow stuck through its back. Hobs' arrow? There was no sign of him. I looked past the arrow, seeing the Shades slither closer, screaming out vengeance. Their skirts moved in rhythm with their hips like runway models out for the kill.

  I ducked behind the wounded body of the Grim. It jerked fitfully until it lay still in the blood-flecked snow. I listened to the Shades make hissing noises deep inside elegant throats. Their soft slippers crunched into the snow. They would burn me alive with a touch. They stopped moving, and I knew they were standing in front of me. The thought sent prickles through my skin. I looked up just as one reached out a graceful hand. Before it could get me, it screamed out in surprise and dropped to the snow with a sick thud.

  I tucked in my feet, making myself as small as possible. The first Shade faded into the ground, but a new one dove for me, only to collapse next to the other one. Another shrieked and charged, followed by another, all of them meeting the same fate, plummeting around me like drops of deadly rain. I tried to make myself even smaller, knowing they would sting me if we touched, but they melted into the snow, each leaving a single arrow behind.

  The last Shade made a break for me, her white arms stretched out noodle-like. An arrow struck her through. Instead of snatching at the offending shaft, she clawed for my face and evaporated like morning dew, an arrow the only thing left of her.

  Before I could crawl away, Hobs lifted me to my feet, half carrying me, half supporting me. It helped that I was so much shorter than him. "Told you these could pierce any hide," he said into my hair.

  I clung to him in shock. He had come for me. His arms felt safe and, being so close to him, they warmed me instantly. His eyes, when they found mine, were protective. Hobs couldn't be as bad as everyone made him out to be. More Grim howled from the trees, filling the forest with their cries. "What are you doing out here?" he shouted through the noise.

  Before I could answer, more furry brown bodies scuttled over my feet. I shrieked, fighting the urge to jump onto Hobs' back to escape them. "That guy. That really beautiful, charming guy." I tried to point him out, but couldn't find him.

  Hobs pulled me closer and fished out the faery dust from his backpack. The stuff was supposed to work like a blindfold—Cherry Blossom or Bubbles or whoever it was had promised it would. I could've used it against that jerk who threw me in the forest. My head was pounding out its punishment. Hobs searched my drained face in worry. "Let's get you back to Babs, okay?"

  We crossed the dark threshold of the overhanging trees, entering the bright wintery morning, when drop-dead-gorgeous himself slithered out from behind a tree. He gave us both a disarming smile. "Why hello there, Mr. Hobany. Just leave the girl with me. That's right. We were only having a bit of fun."

  Hobs smiled back, but with none of his usual biting sarcasm. What was wrong with him? They weren't in cahoots, were they? Or maybe the gorgeous guy had more mind tricks than I thought. I could see he had every intention of putting Hobs under his smooth-talking spell. "Sorry, Gan," Hobs surprised me by saying. "I don't think you're that charming."

  I sagged with relief, especially when I noticed the faery dust that dusted Hobs' eyelashes. He must've thrown it in his eyes to be safe. Gan treated us to another shocked look, turning from me to Hobs.

  "What's the matter?" Hobs asked. "Nobody's falling for your smarmy act today? You must be getting on in years. No one can stay young and beautiful forever."

  "Why do you betray the orders of your medallion?" An ugly stain of red pulsed down Gan's neck, his face pinched with anger. Hobs met the accusation with a bitter look.

  I listened to a thump echoing in the distance. "What's that?" I whispered.

  Hobs shifted uneasily. "Gan's shadow."

>   "Whose side is it on?"

  "Not ours. It follows him everywhere, except it scares the ladies, doesn't it Gan?"

  Gan looked smug. Judging by the sound of his shadow's footsteps, it would easily finish what he had started.

  "But since Gan bungled the job already . . ." Hobs left his words hanging cruelly.

  Gan kept smirking, until Bugul came out from the clearing, more than a little grumpy. His sleep had been disturbed. The Grim howled in the woods, and Bugul's hand tightened over his weapon. He stalked out the loud beasts, disappearing into the forest with his club. Since the Grim woke him up, they would be the first to go. We listened to the ensuing thuds and screams. Even after being attacked by the horrid things, I found it a little disturbing.

  "Have I introduced you to our friend yet?" Hobs asked Gan. "His name's Bugul."

  "Keep that Leprechaun away from me," Gan shrilled. He was used to being obeyed; either that, or he had a reason to believe Hobs would do what he said.

  "Of course," Hobs said, "but can you keep away from him?"

  "What are you say—"

  Hobs brought a vial up to his nose—I recognized it as a gift from the nymphs. He sniffed it, then sneezed directly into Gan's coal-black eyes. It was completely disgusting, but actually super funny. Hobs wiped at his mouth with a chuckle.

  Gan's nose wrinkled and he stepped back, revolted, but not before he began to rub viciously at his watering eyes. "What did you do to me, Hobany?"

  "There she goes," Hobs whispered, pointing out Bugul's disappearing form through the opening of the trees. "Our beautiful little oaf. You can't let her get away from you now, can you?"

  "The oaf?" Gan studied Bugul's swinging arms, then me, somehow confusing our identities. The vial of sneezes the faery traded for my pink lipstick must be powerful stuff. It made his mind susceptible to suggestion. Gan watched me with distaste. I crossed my eyes at him and he backed up, utterly sickened by the sight of me. Without another word, he took off after Bugul. He'd have quite the surprise waiting for him.

  Hobs snickered. "Looks like the nymphs made up an extra-good batch of sneezes this year. I hope Bugul can take care of himself." Hobs seemed to be talking to himself.

  "You haven't used any of that on me, have you?" I cut in.

  "What—have I sneezed on you lately?"

  "No, but you did put nymph kisses all over me!" I held up my hands. Now that they were close to him, they were glowing again.

  He grinned unabashedly, holding his glowing hand against mine. I felt a rush of heat spread up to my elbow in reaction to his touch. It felt even warmer than before. "As soon as you left the clearing," he said, "my hand throbbed so badly I thought my frog's breath ran out on the fire. Only it was cold, not hot. What? You're not mad, are you?" Looking defensive, his fingers wrapped over mine. "I had to put a tracker on you. Good thing I did, too."

  "Remind me to wash this stuff off!"

  "Never. I like keeping you around." He treated me to his most charming smile, and despite my best intentions, I felt myself warming to it. "We don't have much time before Gan's shadow comes and finds us." He drew us closer to our own little Sleeping Beauty, and the tiara eased over my head. Hobs still had his arm around me. The heat from his body almost made me forget what Gan had told me about him--almost, and I watched him tensely.

  "Do not fall in love with a faery." The tiara buzzed around my ears as a reminder, and I winced. Certainly the guy with me hadn't set that off. His eyes widened and I remembered Hobs could hear it too. "You're kidding? You fell for the love talker?" He sounded a little irritated—more than irritated.

  Gan was a love talker? Hobs let go and landed on his knees in front of the fire, cramming the rest of our stuff into the backpack, still muttering crossly. I saw the chain of his medallion glisten on his neck.

  "Hobs," I said. "The love talker talked. It wasn't just about love. He told me about you."

  "He's the fool of the Tuatha de Danann court. Don't listen to him."

  We didn't have time to argue about it. Assuming we escaped Gan's shadow, this was my last day to get Babs home. We had until the stroke of midnight. I couldn't waste my last day wandering the Sidhe in circles. I dropped on my hands and knees next to Hobs. I wasn't sure how I could get his talisman close enough to see the orders he had written on it, but I had to try.

  "Hobs?" I rested my hand on his broad shoulder, just inches from that necklace. He smelled faintly of musk—like no cologne I had ever smelled, probably some faerie brand.

  He glanced down at my fingers, his breath warm on my cold skin. To my surprise, it quickened. "What are you doing?" For once, he looked shaken. I didn't have enough time to be amused. His cheek brushed against mine as he found my wrist, and he laughed a little self-consciously when he pulled my hair from his. "Stop that. I can't think when your hair's tickling my chin."

  He tried to peel my fingers off his shoulder, then hesitated the moment our hands brushed—they glowed by the merest touch, and I felt the warmth spread everywhere he had applied the nymph kisses. I could see it was doing the same thing to him. He held his breath and looked directly into my eyes. I tried not to fall back when the smoldering darkness in them burned into mine. I didn't want him to suspect what I was really after, so I gave him my most innocent smile. He swallowed. "Sorry," he whispered after a moment.

  For what? He lifted a cautious hand to my hair, and then I understood. More lay between us than the distance between our lips, which wasn't much, just a lift of my chin—but no, this was crazy. He was a mischievous devil-raising faery. He blows out candles and kisses girls in the darkness. I felt his fingers at the back of my neck, gently guiding me to him.

  He was going to kiss me--but no. He didn't mean any of this. I couldn't let him distract me with his kisses, even if a part of me wanted him to do it. Too much was at stake. Life. Death. My heart. The only truth lay in the talisman resting against his chest, and my fingers fumbled for it, catching it by its delicate chain. I slid it out from his shirt.

  Before our lips could touch, I read the inscription aloud: "The order of Cailleach Beiradas siebte der siebten." That was confusing. Cailleach Beira? It told me nothing.

  His hand on my wrist tightened. I was close enough to notice the flash of pain behind his eyes. "What have you done? We almost . . ." He stopped short, letting out an unstable breath. "Let's hope your pronunciation was bad enough not to bring her here." Snow fell gently over us and he frowned at it. "You might have invoked the hag."

  "The hag?" I cried. "Why do you have her name on your medallion?"

  "I'll tell you later." Hobs dragged me to my feet, gathering up the backpack in the same movement. He paused when he saw the sleeping Babs. There was no way we could leave without her. Of course not. He was using me to get to her anyway. Surely he wasn't lying about her identity, too? He groaned, looking torn. "Okay, yeah, I work for her."

  He let me go. The backpack fell to the snow with a thud. He knit his fingers behind his head, staring up at the morning sky. The snow came down heavier. "We can't get out of here in time." He turned to me as if trying to read my face. "I'm sorry . . . I really am." He said this a bit reproachfully, and his arms dropped. "I waited as long as I could. There's only one way to break this curse. And now the ice has completely melted. I'm sure of it. I don't think it will shatter."

  The cold morning snow drifted past his face, staining his cheeks red with the chill, obstructing his long lashes. I had no idea what he was talking about, but he looked apologetic, a little vulnerable, and a lot determined. "You're going to have to trust me. Okay?" His hands found mine and they trailed to my elbows as he pulled me closer—the nymph kisses went crazy over our skin.

  His lips stopped just short of mine. "Trust me?" Was he actually going to kiss me? After the trick I played—after the trick he played? Was I going to let him?

  I closed my eyes. His breath froze into the air as he bent closer. The mist of it built around us and I knew the moment the hag materialized between us. He
r silky curls smashed against my nose. My eyes opened, then went cross-eyed when I saw her black hair.

  The hag faced Hobs, her arms crossed in front of her in full Snow Queen splendor. Before he could stop himself, he kissed her frozen mouth. He stumbled back, gasping painfully as his own mouth frosted into a nasty blue.

  A cruel smile raced across the Snow Queen's unpleasant face. She shifted. Her dress groaned in protest. It was made entirely of ice and snow, and jingled like armor. Larger snowflakes floated down over us and Hobs' eyes darted to them warily. It didn't take me long to figure out why.

  As soon as the flakes hit the hard ground, they shifted into beautiful waiflike guards. The Cyclops landed on his feet next to them and glared down at us. The ogres hit the ground a little harder. The wolves were next, their claws clicking against the ice, except they didn't grin as cheerfully as the dimwitted ogres did. And why should they? They had to stand next to the stinky things.

  The Snow Queen tapped her foot in irritation. Hobs' eyes shifted from my surprised expression to her disapproving one. He wiped at his freezing lips. "Why, hello, Mother."