Knights of Black Swan, Books 7-9 (Knights of Black Swan Box Set Book 3)

by Victoria Danann

  Kay smirked at me before lookin’ at her and sayin’, “You know. Elves. Pointy ears? Big feet?”

  At that point I could see my back-off message was no’ getting’ through to the big lummox and I was feelin’ the temperature in my blood risin’ fast. Great Paddy! What was the bloody man thinkin’? I mean, my feet are no’ especially big for an elf and I might add that, unlike humans, I do no’ get knocked down easily. O’ course, since I also have a dick to match, ‘tis something else I have on humans.

  While I was contemplatin’ punchin’ Kay’s block so he’d have to walk sideways for a while, I heard her say something that I never could have anticipated or prepared for in a hundred years. I know I was already heated up by Kay’s shenanigans, but when she said, “You mean like in fairy tales?”, it pushed my temper right over the edge.

  I did no’ know exactly what she was tryin’ to say, but it sounded like she was thinkin’ I was a fairy. Great Paddy’s balls in a bag! My mate, who gave no indication of recognizin’ me as her mate, was thinkin’ I was a fairy? ‘Twas hard enough that she did no’ fall into my arms, as any elf would have done. No. The Fates seemed to have chosen me to play with. My mate was no’ only human, but from another world. And I could tell that she did no’ see me as anything special. The best I could hope for was to set that straight.

  Sometimes my body gets ahead of my brain, as happened in that case. I was so anxious to correct the misimpression that I stood up too quickly.

  “I am no’ a fairy!” I heard the indignation in my voice and immediately regretted soundin’ like I was scoldin’ her. If she did no’ think me an asshole for that, the fact that I’d stood too quickly and knocked over my chair in the process... well, I did no’ want her to think of me as a hothead even if she had just called me a fuckin’ fairy. At least no’ at our first meetin’.

  I looked around and noticed every bugger in the Mess had gone quiet again, starin’ at me like ‘twas a show. I pushed down the impulse to yell at them again, picked up my chair and took a seat. While I was contemplatin’ that my mate had taken me for the worst creature in the world, I heard Storm tryin’ to make a half-arsed explanation.

  “Elves and fae have been at war for over a thousand years. They hate each other.” He glanced at me, then added, “A lot.”

  She looked confused, either like she did no’ understand or did no’ believe. Without knowin’ her better, it was impossible to tell. She studied me as if she was tryin’ to come to a conclusion. When she finally spoke, she asked Kay to change places with her.

  She came ‘round the table and seated herself next to me, which felt like all the wrongs of the world had just been righted, then stared at me close up. Her hand came toward the side of my face, but she stopped, slid her eyes to look into mine and asked, “May I?”

  I swallowed hard, havin’ no idea what she was askin’, but also knowin’ that the answer was aye to whatever ‘twas.

  I did my best to control the shiver that gripped my body when I felt her touch my hair. She lifted it away and when her finger touched the tip of my left ear, there was no amount of will that could suppress my body’s reaction. Settin’ my conspicuous shudder aside, what happened next was a moment frozen in time in my mind.

  Great Paddy. She lit up the room with a grin that made me think she’d finally recognized me as the one. I was ready to haul her into my lap when she said, “In your world, do you not have a collection of stories called fairy tales?”

  I was no’ sure how to react or why she’d given me such a heart-stoppin’ smile, but I knew she still did no’ know. I shook my head, feelin’ both disappointed and more than annoyed that the word ‘fairy’ had been introduced to dinner conversation for a second time in one evenin’.

  For once I chose my words carefully. “Sounds most disturbin’.”

  She smiled and said, “Well, there are some that are rather unpleasant, but most are magical and charming. These stories feature mythical creatures that do not exist in my world. Creatures like fairies, elves, dragons and ogres.” She continued to stare at me for another minute, then, lookin’ around the table, she said, “Are there also dragons and ogres here?”

  I looked at Storm and Kay. They looked at me. All three of us were shakin’ our heads. Kay appeared to be tryin’ no’ to laugh. Storm appeared to be exercisin’ patience. I was just shakin’ my head and wonderin’ what the Paddy I’d got into with this woman. I mean, I know what a dragon is. ‘Tis a mythological fire-breathing, flyin’ reptile. So I made the only logical reply open to me.

  “What’s an ogre?”

  She thought about it for a few seconds and, when she turned those turquoise eyes on me, I was givin’ myself the high fives that I had been the one to ask the question and make her look my way. My eyes drifted down to the light freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose. They were the kind that’d be hard to see if you were no’ close up, where I wanted to be for the next several eternities in a row. Simply enchantin’.

  My eyes were drawn downward when she opened her mouth to speak. “It’s a big ugly brute.”

  “Well,” I said, “then we may have been wrong. Sounds very much like a description of Sol.”

  Storm nodded, Kay laughed, and Elora just seemed to be waitin’ to see what would happen next.

  Kay waxed on. For the one of us who was usually the quietest, his tongue seemed to be doin’ jigs and cartwheels for my mate. “It does raise an interesting question though. If there are no elves in your world, then how do you know about elves?”

  Our server interrupted the query by arrivin’ at that moment. I noticed that she had no’ asked to return to her chair across the table and took it as a sign of growin’ acceptance, if no’ affection. I might no’ be able to touch her, but I was close enough to smell the scent of, well, shampoo or soap or perfume or maybe just her. I did no’ care whether or no’ ‘twas identified. I just wanted to keep breathing her in.

  She was like a drug to me. I wanted more and more and could no’ imagine doin’ without.

  “Are these nuts on top of my chicken?” she asked.

  “Uh, yeah,” Storm answered, lookin’ amused. “Pieces. I think it’s pecan. Looks good. Give me a bite and I’ll tell you for sure.”

  Without a word she went about complyin’ with his request, extendin’ a fork laden with pecan-crusted chicken across the table. He took it in his mouth and hummed approval.

  “Oh, yeah. Pecan pieces. Do you like it?”

  She tasted it and smiled. “I do. So what do you have there?”

  “Seared salmon with an Alfredo pasta. Want a bite?”

  She nodded, lookin’ eager as a child at her first fair. “That is good. Can I have that tomorrow night?”

  Storm chuckled. “Of course. What have they been feeding you in the infirmary?”

  She shrugged. “Mostly stuff without color that doesn’t require much chewing.”

  Storm looked serious. “Sounds like they didn’t make a distinction for you, but just gave you the regular hospital diet. Sorry. I should have been paying more attention.”

  “I didn’t complain.”

  “I know,” he said, looking at her like she was a miracle.

  And I was feelin’ a heady resentment comin’ on all the while a little voice kept chidin’ that ‘twas my own fault for walkin’ away from her to go drinkin’ and... Great Paddy. I’m a worthless bastard.

  She went ‘round the table, took bites of my lollipopped lamb and Kay’s twenty-one-days marinated steak. Rare, of course.

  When that game was done to her satisfaction, she brought the conversation back to Kay’s question about elves. They talked at length about elves as if they were debatin’ angels dancin’ on pinheads.

  Ridiculous.

  When she finally changed the subject, ‘twas without segue. “What’s a berserker?” After a concise and clinical explanation a la Storm, she said, “So you’re saying berserkers go out of control?”

  I laughed, intendin’ it to sou
nd derisive because I realized it was my chance to repay Kay for the ‘big feet’ comment. “Out of control? Wacked up insane motherfuckers is what they are.”

  She turned and stared at me. I shoved a bite of lamb into my mouth, hopin’ it made me look unconcerned about the fact that my teammates were also starin’.

  “What?” I challenged them both, sittin’ together across the table, but she distracted us all before they answered.

  “Where I am from, your accent would be typical in a place called Ireland. Is there such a place here?”

  ‘Twas oddly comfortin’ to know that Ireland existed even in Elora’s dimension of origin. “Aye. ‘Tis my home. We’ve had a truce with the fairies for two hundred years. We do no’ go to Scotia uninvited and they do no’ cross the borders of Ireland or Wales. Except on preapproved business.” I could no’ stop myself from askin’, “Do you like my accent?”

  She smiled shyly as her eyes slid sideways toward me and said, “Sure.” Then she gave a most beguilin’ little shake of her head. “Musical.”

  “I’d like to hear these fairy tales,” I said, “but would like them all the more should they be called elf tales.”

  She laughed out loud and I reveled in hearin’ the sound for the first time.

  Two more times during dinner she turned to me with a funny look on her face, and pushed my hair back to look at my ear, like she thought it might have magically changed since the last time she saw it. No’ that I minded. I would have leapt at any excuse to have her focus her attention on me. The fact that she touched me in the process was a boon. Both times gave me shivers that probably reached my toes, but the sensation concentrated at my groin, so I can no’ say for sure.

  Several knights stopped by the table. While Storm made introductions, I glared at each and every one, but they were too interested in the new arrival to notice my very sincere, if silent, warnin’.

  The woman was a charmer for sure. She could no’ be faulted for manners and I could no’ help thinkin’ that even my mother would approve of Elora Laiken. Except that she was human, o’ course. She shook hands, smiled, and repeated every one of their names like she intended to remember.

  When dessert came, the reception line scattered. At least they had sense enough to know it would be rude to interrupt sweets. And ‘twas one of my favorites.

  I dug in, but then saw that she was simply starin’ at the plate.

  “Do you no’ like it?”

  She dropped her chin and looked at me, quietly sayin’, “What is it?”

  “Black Forest Cake with raspberry sauce.”

  Her brows came together in a charmin’ display of confusion. “I know what raspberries are,” she said.

  “Aye. One of nature’s best expressions of juicy goodness. The stuff under the sauce is chocolate cake.” She looked dubious. “Chocolate is strange to you?” She nodded.

  I leaned toward her and matched her quiet tone. “Just take a bite. Chances are good that you’ll like it.”

  The slight adjustment of the set of her mouth told me she was no’ goin’ to back down from a challenge, even one that was as slight and silly as darin’ her to eat cake. The other two chimed in, sayin’, “Yeah. You’ve gotta give it a shot.”

  She picked up her fork and glanced around the table at the three of us all watchin’ and took a weensy little bite. I shall never forget what happened next if I live to be a thousand. She closed her lips around that cake and moaned. MOANED, I tell you. ‘Twas like nothin’ I’d ever heard. My cock jumped to attention like she’d taken it out of my pants and begun strokin’. That was alarmin’ on so many levels. I mean I’m healthy to be sure, but I’m a decade past bein’ randy as a lad.

  I had forgotten all about eatin’ my own cake as, apparently, had Storm. I say ‘apparently’ because he had an untouched piece to offer when she’d finished scarfin’ down her own like a rugby player.

  She looked down at the offerin’ and flushed just a bit before askin’, “Are you sure?” But she attacked the cake like she had no’ eaten in weeks before he reconfirmed his intention to give up the treat.

  I was captivated by the sight of her inhalin’ Storm’s cake, moanin’ and makin’ excruciatin’ly sexy yummy sounds the whole time. She looked at the plate like she’d love to pick it up and lick it, just before her head turned toward me. I could only hope that someday she would look at me with the sort of desire she was showin’ my dessert.

  “I’d be honored to have you try mine as well,” I said as I picked up the little plate.

  She opened her beautiful mouth and was clearly about to say aye, at least that was my impression, when she realized my teammates were havin’ a laugh at her expense. She blushed in embarrassment which brought out my protective instincts and made me want to hang both the buggers by their balls.

  “Do no’ mind them,” I said. “After what you’ve been through, you should have as much chocolate as you want, whenever you want it.” I wanted to go on adding, “And anything else your heart desires. Please let that include me.” But I knew that would sound wacked to a human. So I let the gift of cake be a pale proxy for a declaration of intent.

  “No, thank you.” She gave me a smile that was somewhat more reserved and tense. “I’ve had enough.”

  “No such thing as enough,” I said. “Less is no’ more. More is more.” That got me a bigger smile.

  We parted ways at the Hub. The three of us were goin’ for our usual after dinner drink, which was a ritualized indulgence on nights off. I offered to see her to her apartment, but she said, “No. This will be my first time on my own and I’m looking forward to being unescorted. Thank you, though.”

  I nodded and watched her walk away, all the while thinkin’ that I had suggested killin’ my own mate the night she’d arrived broken, torn, and covered with so much blood it was a miracle she’d survived it.

  I realized I was grindin’ my teeth recallin’ what Storm had said about spendin’ time with her every day, watchin’ her recovery, gettin’ to know her. Paddy. I’m a livin’, breathing idiot. I’d been tryin’ to play my blues away while Storm was situatin’ himself as her… well, I was no’ sure what, but I could say for sure that I did no’ like the easy familiarity with which he regarded her. And her him. Did no’ like it in the least.

  I walked after my teammates. Kay turned around when he saw that I was laggin’.

  “You coming?” he asked with a hint of classic Kay everything-amuses-me.

  I was no’ really grousin’ about his laid-back style. No’ since I’d seen the other side of that coin.

  I’d been lost in my effort to place that beguilin’ scent of hers. What was it? Oh aye. Wild jasmine in full bloom. So intoxicatin’ it could bring a grown man to a standstill at fifteen feet. My thoughts immediately jumped to a listin’ of her physical virtues, the long legs, curves, and, oh, that hair. I’d be dreamin’ about buryin’ myself in that hair.

  Could no’ help but smile at that image.

  Kay interrupted my private thoughts for the second time in two minutes. “What’s so funny?”

  I suppressed the urge to tell the fellow ‘twas none of his business and attempted to appease him by sayin’, “Just thinkin’ about how much cake she ate. Never seen a body enjoy food so much.”

  “Um hum.”

  There was a distinct element of distrust in his tone, but I did no’ care. ‘Twas a right special occasion even if I could no’ make a public celebration of it. No’ yet anyway.

  CHAPTER 8

  Ram

  I was on my way down to the meetin’ in the Sovereign’s office. After a sleepless night, thinkin’ about the beautiful human, I was hopin’ to grab a coffee and wake up a bit first. To my surprise and great pleasure, I found the object of my every desire emergin’ from the apartment next door. I had no idea they’d put her next to me.

  “Good day.” I gave her a smile that’d never failed me with the lasses then added, “Ms. Laiken.”

  “Call me Elora.” Sh
e smiled in return and it seemed genuine enough. I was thinkin’ ‘twas a good enough start, but when she pulled the door closed, I saw her glance at the faded rectangle where Lan’s name plate had been and she winced. Her colorin’ came up, turnin’ her face pink, and I could see she was uncomfortable. “I know this was your, uh, friend’s quarters. I hope you don’t mind. It’s just temporary.”

  By that time I was beside her. “’Tis fine, Elora. Tis no’ like he’s usin’ it.” I knew that was the wrong thing to say as soon as her eyes went wide and I realized how callous it must have sounded. So I tried to clarify with a wordier explanation. “Lan was no’ the sort who would want a memorial made of his quarters. He loved women and would relish knowin’ you’re the one sleepin’ in his bed. Temporary or no’.”

  She cocked her head to one side as her eyes narrowed with mock suspicion. “So. You’re a silver-tongued elf.”

  No’ lookin’ at her sweet mouth after hearin’ a mention of tongue would have been utterly impossible. Perhaps Kay might have had the willpower for such a feat, but no’ I. With effort I drew my eyes back up to hers.

  “No.” I smiled seductively. At least I hoped so. “My tongue is sweet. Regular and pink. Will you come have a taste then and see if I’m true?”

  I leaned in to kiss her, but she took a step back lookin’ like she was certain I was daft.

  “Anyway,” she said, “it was a generous and gracious thing for you to say. About me occupying Lan’s apartment, I mean.”

  “Well,” I rocked back on my heels and laughed softly, “that’s another first. I assure you I’ve never been accused of bein’ generous and gracious before.”

  She studied me for a second before sayin’, “Perhaps people don’t know the real you.” Yeah. Or perhaps they did. But if she wanted to think better of me, I was no’ goin’ to be the instrument of obstruction. “What’s the other first?”

  “Beautiful stranger from another world.”