by S A Archer
Once they were in their car, they pulled out, not even waiting for Fletcher to get settled and beat them out of the lot.
Chapter Forty-Three
The feeling of the Touch gliding through his skin warmed Riley back towards consciousness. He felt as if he’d been lingering deep in some dark lake where he hibernated against the pain. But the Touch was like light and air to his soul, returning life to him. With a deep, refreshing inhale, Riley awoke. His eyes opened sooner than they seemed prepared for, because the bright sunlight made his lids close once more. The hand that covered his wrist shifted slightly and he heard the sound of the shades being drawn. So when his eyes made a second attempt at sight, it was more tolerable. But even in the shaded light, he could see the handsome features of his patron. Kieran’s other hand slipped into Riley’s palm. He kept Riley’s hand squeezed between both of his, as he raised it to his lips, and kissed the back of his knuckles. “There you are,” he murmured softly. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to sleep the whole day away.”
Riley tried to open his mouth to speak, but found his tongue practically sticking to the roof, because it was so dry. The words would not come easily through the parched ache of his throat. Kieran picked up a glass of water from the bedside table and handed it to Riley, who drank slowly, but steadily until it was more than half gone. He handed it back and Kieran put it down for him. Riley slumped back on the pillow and let his free hand fall onto his chest once more.
“Scoot over and act like you have a family,” Kieran said, nudging against Riley’s hip until he edged further over on the bed that they shared. Kieran climbed in and stretched out on his side. He propped his head in one hand and slid his other up under Riley shirt, so that his palm rested on the skin of Riley’s abs. The Touch continued to trickle from him in a steady flow that he usually used with Riley. If he kept the Touch light and constant, then they could Touch more often. And Kieran needed it just as much as Riley, because of his own personal conditions. It was not something Riley was ever going to complain about. He glanced up into his patron’s gorgeous, blue eyes and started again, “I was so worried about you. You aren’t hurt, are you?”
Kieran had that boyish smirk on his lips. “You’re the one who’s been unconscious in bed all day. Dawn did what she could to heal you, so hopefully your finger doesn’t hurt anymore. But she said that the blood loss is something that she couldn’t simply overcome with magic. So you’ll need to take it easy for a while.”
“I didn’t mean to call out to you when the pain hit.” It had just happened. His need for Kieran had spiked in that moment of panic and hurt.
“If you would have reached out to me sooner, instead of waiting until it had become acute, it might not have been such a mess.” Kieran tapped a finger against Riley’s stomach as if trying to make a point, or get his attention. “Luckily, the vampire was intent on taking me unharmed, so he only used a tranquilizer dart on me. Dawn was able to overcome the effects of that, without any trouble, so I’m perfectly fine.”
“Kieran, I just really needed to keep you safe. If anything had happened to you, while you were trying to save me…”
“This is the part that you’ve not been getting, Riley. We are a team. You and I. Druid and patron. There’s a lot that I’m going to have to take care of on my own, to take care of the fey. And there’s a lot that I’m going to need you to do for me, to allow me the freedom to do the things that I need to do. But, we’re still a team. When I need you, I call to you, or come to you. When you need me, you need to call to me, so I can be there for you. I know that you, and Joe, and London, are not helpless. You’ve got skills, and talent. The Sidhe that you serve are endlessly thankful for all that you do. But if I were to have lost you today, I don’t know what I would’ve done.” Kieran’s voice cracked. “I can’t imagine finding another druid who could be to me what you are. The magic that we exchange so freely, the friendship that we’ve developed, our affection for one another. You are special to me. I know that it’s not something that most people can understand, but you know what I’m talking about. I need you, as much as you need me. So don’t go putting yourself in danger like that anymore. We need a better line of communication, and I’m gonna work on finding that, because I want you to be able to reach me all the time. And not just when your fingers are getting broken.”
“I’m sorry that I worried you. And you’re right. This is a special relationship that we have. It’s something that I value as much as you do. I know that I could live with another Sidhe as my patron, but I don’t know that I would ever want to. You take care of me in ways that I don’t think anyone else could really understand. You are a friend to me, more than any other Sidhe with their druid. You give more to me than any of the druids get from their patrons. I’m going to try and do better, and be the druid that you would have me to be. You’re right. We need to work things out, so that things like this don’t happen again. So you don’t have to worry about if I’m rushing off into danger and I don’t have to worry about calling to you when danger is coming. Thank you for not giving up on me.”
Kieran smile that handsome smile of his. And then he rested his head on Riley’s shoulder. “That’s never going to happen. You’re stuck with me for the long haul, Riley. I’m just glad that you’re alright, and that we’re coming to an understanding that we both can live with.”
Maybe Joe was right. Maybe he did love Kieran more than he really should, but he wouldn’t trade this odd and wonderful relationship for any treasure the world could offer.
Chapter Forty-Four
Peyton walked behind Deacon, exhausted and aching in every way a person could be. He paused just inside the chamber where Credne kept his throne, and he leaned back against the wall, letting Deacon deliver their prize. This week had been hard. Harder than he could have imagined. Doing the job wasn’t nearly as bad as watching every avenue of escape slam closed before him, leaving him nowhere to go, but right back here.
“Excellent,” Credne’s deep voice almost purred with his pleasure. “Deacon was right about you, Peyton. You are the best in the business.”
His gaze flicked up to Deacon, and to his surprise, the Changeling’s not-quite-unfriendly smirk proved it was true.
Peyton managed to swallow, that small compliment making the pain of it all just a fraction easier to endure. But his arm still hurt, and the residual ache of the magic getting stripped from it had seeped into the rest of his body, making him hum with the growing discomfort.
The Unseelie descended from his throne platform with purposeful, graceful steps. He approached Peyton with his hard gray eyes fixed upon him, as if seeing all his pain.
To be before Credne once more, to feel the weight of his magic gathered around him, drove Peyton to his knees. His gaze lowered. He could not meet his patron’s eyes. The weariness stole his strength until the enchantment was more than he could shoulder.
The cool feel of the hands that cradled Peyton’s face brought a sharp inhale, but it was the inhale of the magic that brought him back to life. Like the pain and emptiness was just a fog of a nightmare, it evaporated. When Peyton opened his eyes, it was as if he’d not opened them in ages, and just now gazed into the night sky; vast and beautiful and dark. It cooled his agony, washing it away until no shred of it remained.
“Rest,” Credne’s words resonated within the magic. “We’ll discuss your next assignment on the morrow.”
Peyton’s jaws clenched.
This was never going to end. He needed an escape, but today…
For today, he would rest.
‘On the morrow’ he would fight again. He might not have found his way out yet, but the game wasn’t over.
Chapter Forty-Five
Peyton slung his satchel over his shoulder, grabbed his tall coffee, and started towards the building. Credne decided that he liked having an infiltrator
on the inside, feeding him information about the wizards and the humans. The sun was just really making its appearance for the day, and the parking lot was acquiring more tenants every couple of minutes, working towards getting full.
Just another day on the job, however phony that truth was, but he couldn’t act any other way. He needed to sell that as he walked into the chaos. The other agents were bustling and scrambling around, and he just did his best not to get run over or spill his coffee as he transversed the tactical room.
When he, at last, reached his desk, Peyton dropped down into his chair. He leaned back to ask Granger and Patterson. “So what’s stirred up the hornet’s nest?”
“Break in,” Patterson replied, with the clipped response of someone in a rush.
Peyton stuffed his satchel into the deep side drawer. “Break in? Where?”
“Here,” Granger’s answer came just as abrupt.
“Really?” He was selling the act, modulating an incredulous tone and frowning in disbelief. “Did we catch him?”
“No, but we will,” Fletcher strode over to join them, holding up a sheet of paper. “DNA’s a match. Our thief is the fey vigilante from Bristol.”
Peyton blinked. He didn’t need to fake his shock now. “Really?” So what do you know? Granger wasn’t just barking up a random tree with his suspicions and accusations. London really did work for the ‘fey vigilante’.
“Guess you were right, Granger. He must have been involved with the Brightner attack.” Fletcher said, dropping a picture of the cauldron, the only item that had been taken in the break in. “And now we know what he was looking for.”
Peyton managed not to smirk. He thought, What goes around, comes around, Lugh. You screwed me, and now I’ve screwed you. Make peace with that path, you bullocks.
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Undeniable
Copyright 2016 by S. A. Archer & S. Ravynheart
Cover Art Copyrighted 2016 by Ravynheart Publishing
Image Copyright: Zoom Team, 2016 Used under license from Shutterstock.com
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