Hell Hound's Revenge (Fae 0f The North Shore Book 1)

by A. S. Green

  “Well, hopefully you’ll get those hundred years, so we’ll have to check back on that later.”

  She rose up on her toes, her body brushing upward against his straining cock. Her lips, so sweet. Her breasts, plump against his chest, the hard nipples rubbing against him.

  Her whole body was so hot in his hands he barely felt the difference between their temperatures. He moved her against the wall, grinding his erection against her clit, making her whine.

  Christ, that sound in his ears, his hound echoing her whine in his chest, their duet almost had him coming right there.

  He lifted her, cupping her ass in his hands, spreading her cheeks, his long fingers skimming her private openings. Her hands were at his neck, pulling him in deep, silently asking him for more.

  Cormac ground against her, angling up, while he pressed one finger deep in her sweet, sweet cunt. She panted against his lips, sucked on the side of his neck, and when he felt her body begin to tremble in his arms, his hound let out a roar.

  He took his cock in hand, lining it up with her wet heat. Finding her core, he thrust in without further preamble, and— Oh, shit. Oh, fuck.

  Meghan’s hot walls gripped down on him like a vise, and his whole body shuddered. Her wet mouth was at his neck and he pulled back his hips to thrust in again. Heaven.

  She groaned, squeezed his hips with her knees, and panted, “Harder, Cormac. Fuck me, harder.”

  The hound lunged in his chest, and Cormac felt himself losing his grip. No, he thought. No!

  “God,” she whispered. “God. You are the most magnificent creature, and you want me?”

  “Aye, anamchara,” he said through clenched teeth. “I want ye. Forever.” But just as he made that solemn vow, his control slipped sideways.

  Cormac jumped back, and Meghan slipped down the wall, landing on her ass, her knees wide, her swollen cunt on full display.

  If Cormac needed a straw to break this camel’s back, that was it. He dropped to all fours, panting. His face and teeth elongated. His spine curved. He growled as wiry black hair sprung out all over his body.

  Meghan raised a shaking hand to her mouth, and that was it. He swung his massive head toward the open window and raced for it. He sank onto his haunches then sprung, sailing through the window and into the air.

  He landed awkwardly on the ground twenty feet below. It took a second for him to regain his balance, but then he shook his head and ran. Cormac’s massive paws tore at the damp ground, the cold air stung his sensitive nose, and the miles quickly grew between himself and that miserable house.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  MEGHAN

  “Well, look who’s come back down to join us,” said a deep, already familiar voice.

  Meghan hesitated on the bottom step, then inhaled slowly and finished her descent, entering the demolished sitting room. Aiden, the one who looked most like Cormac, was lying on the couch with a book spread open across his chest. He watched her, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a half smile.

  The auburn-haired brother, Declan, was sitting on the floor, against the wall with his knees pulled up. He wasn’t wearing his glasses anymore, and the side of his neck was red and scraped. He held the back of his head like he had a serious headache. The coffee table lay in pieces at the center of the room.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any of that bacon left?” she asked tentatively.

  Declan glanced quickly at his brother, then smiled up at her. “You can have my share.”

  “That way?” Meghan leaned her head in the direction where she thought the kitchen must be.

  The brothers said nothing, so she took that as a yes and went in search of food. She tried not to react when she heard them get up and follow closely behind her.

  When she arrived at her destination, she took stock of the room. Where the sitting room had some modern updates, at least in the way of furniture, the kitchen still had a wood-burning stove and a hand pump that fed into a ceramic basin housed in a wooden cabinet. The only thing in the kitchen that looked new, or at least newer, was the black and white tiled floor.

  Aiden leaned one hip against the large oak table, and Declan hoisted himself to sit on top.

  Meghan looked at Aiden, winced when she realized just how closely he resembled his absent brother, then decided to focus on the auburn-haired cú sídhe. They both looked formidable—tall, muscular, and fierce, even if Declan was noticeably thinner.

  “So, where exactly am I?” she asked, walking toward the stove and hoping to ease into a halfway normal conversation.

  “Cormac didn’t tell ye?” Declan asked.

  She shook her head and plucked a piece of room-temperature bacon from the cast iron skillet.

  “Near Martin’s Landing,” Aiden said.

  “Where’s that?” she asked.

  “Northeastern Minnesota. About twenty miles east of the Boundary Waters and the town of Ely.”

  “Eely?” Meghan asked. “That’s a disgusting name for a town.”

  “E-L-Y,” Aiden said, “but, yes, rhymes with ‘eely.’ We’re about thirty-five miles west of where you and our brother had your little adventure on the North Shore.”

  Meghan winced at his choice of words. Little adventure, indeed.

  “Where is Cormac?” Declan asked.

  “Don’t tell me he’s abandoned ye already?” Aiden asked. He was joking but, at the same time, he wasn’t.

  Meghan glanced to the far side of the room, not that there was anything to look at besides a pantry, but because she couldn’t look them in the eye. “He, uh, had a bit of a…mishap. Upstairs.”

  Then she shrugged as if there was nothing more to tell, but apparently she hadn’t fooled either of them. They were both looking at her with alarm.

  “We were…uh…you know…” Jesus, this was embarrassing. “And he…uh….”

  Declan’s eyes jerked to Aiden. There was a beat of wide-eyed comprehension, then they both burst out laughing.

  Meghan shoved another piece of bacon in her mouth and talked around it. “It’s not funny.”

  “Oh, come on, Curly. It’s all kinds of funny,” Declan said, correcting her and giving her a nickname that she wasn’t too sure about. “Our big brother is nothing if not the epitome of self-control. If whatever ye did was so amazing it made him drop that shield…well…good for you.”

  “Good for him,” Aiden said, giving her another half smile. Damn, he made that look sexy. Someday, some poor girl was going to cash in all her chips just to live in a world of his smiles.

  “Believe me,” Declan said, “he’ll come back for more.”

  Meghan blinked, tore her gaze away from Aiden’s smile and focused on what Declan had said. Her eyebrows pulled together in thought. Was that all this was? Sexual attraction and nothing more? Don’t worry, he’ll come back because you’re a sure thing, is that what he was saying?

  “No,” he said, “don’t be thinking that.”

  “What?”

  He shifted his weight on the table and leaned toward her. “Cormac said ye were his anamchara. If that’s true, it’s more than just sex for him.”

  Meghan felt the back of her neck go prickly hot. “Mind reader, are you?”

  “No, Curly, but your face says even more than your mouth.”

  “Great.” She licked the grease from her fingers, pretending this newest revelation was of no concern.

  Aiden walked toward the counter and poured her a cup of coffee.

  “Thanks.” She took a sip. It was possibly the best coffee she’d ever had. “Wow.”

  “So you’ve been helping our brother hunt?” Aiden asked.

  “Sort of.” She took another big sip. “I helped, but what I did was more of an accident than anything else.”

  “I doubt that,” Aiden said. “My foot is still throbbing from when ye tagged it.”

  Meghan felt a sudden rush of pride. She’d meant to leave a mark, but she also knew her limits when it came to true battle. “No, I’m no
t being modest. Killing Riley was an accident.”

  “Riley?”

  She nodded. “That was his name. By now, the rest of the Black Castle has probably figured out what happened. Cormac says, when he was captured, he overheard Riley on the phone, making a report. When they don’t hear from him again, they’ll know something’s up. They’ll come looking for Cormac.”

  Both Declan and Aiden’s mouths got tight.

  “That’s why we need to lie low for a while, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do anything more for him than what I did yesterday. Branna told me he needed an equal partner and—”

  “Branna?” Aiden asked, shooting Declan a look.

  “Púca? Turns into a rabbit?” Declan asked.

  “That’s the one.” She remembered Cormac telling her that Branna had been here when their parents were killed. She wished now that she hadn’t brought her up. She really wished she hadn’t brought her up when Aiden suddenly frowned and stormed out of the room like he was late for work.

  Declan’s eyes were also on Aiden’s exit, then his head swung back to her. “Don’t worry about him. And, hey, don’t listen to Branna. If Cormac needed an equal partner, he could have taken me with him, or Aiden, or both of us. What Cormac needs is someone to take care of. He’s got a serious hero complex, always has. What happened here…”

  Meghan swallowed and her throat got tight. They were standing in the kitchen, the very place where his parents went down. Her gaze inadvertently drifted to the built-in cupboards she’d passed in the hall.

  “…well, it was a serious blow to all of us, but Cormac’s ego…. He’s on a mission to avenge our family. He means to collect a life for every life we lost.”

  Meghan nodded soberly. “I get it.”

  And she did understand. Now. Finally. How stupid could she get?

  She thought Cormac had only been upset about what happened at the rental office for the obvious reasons: their lives had been in danger; they’d escaped only by a miracle; now a man was dead—true, he was the enemy, but a life was a life.

  It hadn’t occurred to her that by acting on impulse and killing Riley, she’d stolen something from Cormac.

  He’d only asked her to help him find the Black Castle. He probably expected that he’d be the one to take him out.

  “Cormac would have liked for me to leave the killing part to him,” she said, solidifying the truth in her own mind.

  Declan gave her a slow blink of confirmation. “Ye stepped in two piles of shit yesterday, Curly. By taking his kill, ye caused a setback in his mission, and then his ego took another hit when his anamchara had to rescue him. But he’s not mad at you. He rarely gets mad at anyone but himself. That’s just Cormac’s way.”

  “What’s my way?”

  Meghan jerked at the sound of Cormac’s voice, and she twisted her body toward the kitchen entrance. Cormac came up behind her, grabbed the last piece of bacon from the pan, and shoved it in his mouth. Then he put his arm around her shoulder as if thirty minutes ago he hadn’t erupted into a giant dog and run away.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “That’s my line,” he said, kissing her temple. Then he lifted her wrist, put his nose there and inhaled deeply.

  “Me? I’m fine. I’m not the one who leapt head first out a second-story window.”

  She glanced over at Declan for support, but he was looking at his shoes, fighting a grin.

  “Laugh it up,” Cormac said, seeing it too. “Ye just wait until ye find yours.”

  Declan’s head jerked up, and his expression went dark. “Fuck off,” he growled, then he marched out of the room as quickly as Aiden had before.

  When he was gone, Meghan turned to Cormac and looked up at his handsome face. “I thought it was just you, but I’m getting the idea that overall, the cú sídhe are a moody bunch.”

  “We run a little hot. Comes with the territory, being a hell hound.”

  “Oh, is that why?” she asked, combing her fingers into his hair. She wasn’t sure, but she thought he might look even sexier after a recent transformation.

  “Mostly. But having you around hasn’t helped much.”

  “Wait.” Meghan twisted her body around to look in the direction both Declan and Aiden had gone. “Did I do something to make your brothers both storm out of here?”

  “Both?”

  “Aiden took off a couple minutes ago, looking completely pissed off.”

  Cormac shrugged, then he gave her a smile that warmed her from the inside out. “Maybe they’re jealous that I’ve found my person, and they haven’t.”

  “Your person?” she asked, her eyebrows rising. “That’s a lot nicer than mate.”

  Cormac crossed his arms. “What’s wrong with mate?”

  Meghan rolled her eyes. “It sounds so…animalistic.”

  “In case ye haven’t noticed, I’m animalistic.”

  “I noticed, but I’m not.“

  Cormac laughed out loud.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Are ye sure about that?” He tightened his arms around her. “Maybe ye didn’t see the same person upstairs that I did.”

  “Is that going to happen to you every time?”

  “No,” he said, letting her go. “It didn’t happen last night, right? But I can’t promise it will never happen.”

  Meghan let his answer sink in. If it hadn’t happened the first time, they’d been together, what had she done differently this morning? Had it been her fault? “If it’ll help, I’ll try not to get too carried away next time.”

  Cormac shook his head and put both hands on Meghan’s shoulders. “Please, promise me that ye won’t try not to do that.”

  A beat passed, and she scrunched up her nose at him. “That’s a double negative.”

  He smiled softly. “Just be you.”

  She exhaled. “I can do that.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  MEGHAN

  One Week Later

  Meghan made herself a grilled cheese sandwich, put it on a plate, and brought it into the repaired sitting room to watch a taped episode of the Great British Bake Off. She stopped before sitting on the couch and instead stared out the window that faced the front yard. Something had caught her eye—a movement in the bushes, a sudden change in the shape of a shadow?

  The last several days had been spent getting to know her new family. She’d trounced them in an all-day Yahtzee tournament, and the brothers had taught her how to play darts. Aiden declared her “a natural,” said he’d never seen “truer aim,” and even wondered aloud if she wasn’t half leannán sídhe, but rather descended from some ancient called “Tuirbe Trágmar, the axe thrower.” Meghan was pretty sure he’d been kidding.

  The rest of the time she’d spent trying to master the wood-burning stove so she could make the things she saw on the cooking shows, and learning everything there was to know about sídhe history and tradition.

  Some of what she read she already knew from experience, like how the leannán sídhe work through dreams and how they had a penchant for wearing black because, as Cormac explained, “They’re still in mourning for Ireland.”

  She also learned that there were other creatures not descended from Danu, the mother goddess and creator of the sídhe, but still a very real part of their world, for example nuckelavees and púcas, like Branna.

  Other parts of what she learned were new, like how the cú sídhe had originally been in servitude to the rest of the sídhe and used as guard dogs because of their natural instincts to protect. But in recent years—“recent” meaning centuries ago rather than millennia—the cú sídhe had staged a liberation movement that leveled the playing field. Some of the sídhe apparently still looked at them as second-class citizens, but most of the younger generation—those less than a hundred years old—weren’t as prejudiced. Meghan couldn’t imagine how anyone could see Cormac and his brothers as anything less than amazing.

  Meghan absorbed as much as she could under Cormac
’s—and often Aiden’s—daily tutelage, but what she lived for were the nights.

  Last night, Cormac had made love to her for the first time. It had been so different than the times before, less urgent and powerful, but rather marked by long slow glides as he stared into her eyes with such intensity that it drew tears from both of them.

  Then this morning, she’d woken with their arms and legs tangled together. She’d basked in the warmth of his hard body and breathed in the spicy scent of his skin until they were both awakened by the smell of sausages, potatoes, and onion.

  She’d enjoyed a leisurely breakfast with Cormac and Aiden—Declan was sleeping in as per usual— and laughed as they told stories about all the trouble they got into as children, their voices going softer but still happy when they spoke of their youngest brother, Madigan.

  It was now midday. Meghan shifted her sandwich plate from one hand to the other and moved closer to the window, still searching the strange shadows along the hedgerow by the gate. Eventually she realized the source when a black rabbit slowly, cautiously, emerged and took a few hesitant hops toward the house.

  Meghan sighed. Yes, it had been a good first week in her new life, but apparently that was about to end. Branna had come for a visit.

  Remembering the first time they’d met, Meghan felt the need to make a statement that this was her family’s home and that, this time, Branna was the outsider. So, still holding her plate, she opened the front door and stepped outside onto the stone walkway to greet her like any good hostess and lady of the house.

  She expected Branna to immediately transform into someone who could talk, though she knew not to look forward to anything she had to say. But Branna didn’t shift.

  “All right then,” Meghan said, sounding impatient and less like a hostess. “Let’s have it.”

  Still nothing.

  Instead of shifting, the rabbit froze, as if terrified. It made itself as small as it could and laid its ears back flat, before suddenly darting away to take safer cover under the hedge.

  “Well, how about that,” Meghan murmured to herself. Apparently, even in Cormac’s world, sometimes a rabbit was only a rabbit.