Cadence of Ciar (The Fate Caller Series Book 1)

by Zoe Parker

“You’re fucked now,” Rime says, laughing as he steps forward to order a sandwich.

  “Here, have a roast sandwich, monster girl. You love those.” Ciar practically shoves the thing in my mouth.

  After eating most of the sandwich, I feel bad enough to let him off the hook. “And you’re right, I do need to go back to training. I’m getting soft.” It’s nothing but the truth. Being here in this town has ruined the careful alertness I tailored in the forest.

  Penelope snuck up on me. Speaking of her…

  ‘Leave it, monster girl.’ Ciar cautions, and since Rime is smiling and seems to be having fun—he’s right, for now I need to leave it.

  And I’ll be darned if I don’t like him a little, and other parts of him a little more. My eyes slide down his chest to his stomach of their own accord, admiring the way he fills out his shirt. Mentally shaking myself I turn away.

  What in the flipping world?

  ‘It’s the true bond calling you. Now that he’s here and away from the influence of that creature he is more relatable, it’s allowing the bond to be… natural.’

  He paused when he said ‘natural’, which means that isn’t the first word he was going to use. I raise an eyebrow at him.

  ‘It allows your desire for him to manifest.’ He’s still hedging, so I push.

  ‘Still not the word you were going to use.’

  ‘Sexual. It allows the bond to be sexual.’ There it is.

  ‘Are you really okay with it doing that?’ I stare at him steadily, gauging the emotions as they cross his face the best I can. Which isn’t the greatest, but I can feel them too, which helps decipher the depth of them.

  ‘We’re Fae, monster girl. With Awakenings this is always a possibility and somehow Faerie balances that. The three of us form our own unique bonds that enable us to so freely share and possess you simultaneously.’

  ‘Still not sure how I feel about all of this possession and stuff.’ And I’m not. I’m perfectly aware that my attraction to Rime is part of the Triad business but not all of it, some of it is straight attraction. I look at him through my lashes.

  He’s tall, almost dead even with Ciar’s six foot plus. He’s a bit bulkier than Ciar but not by much, they’re kind of like night and day side by side really. Ciar with his pitch-black hair and green eyes. Rime with his white hair and blue eyes. It’s like two sides of a coin, and that means one thing about the third.

  He’ll be the monkey in the middle of these two.

  Just the thought of both of them in my bed at the same time… the temperature of the air heats up suddenly and sweat breaks out on my upper lip and chest.

  Fudge.

  Ciar’s and Rime’s gaze turn to me at the exact same moment. Waving at them inanely, I turn my back on them to slurp on my drink and try to think about things that don’t involve nudity.

  What the heck is wrong with me? I barely tolerated Rime yesterday and now I keep picturing him naked.

  ‘The bond is giving you a nudge, but I promise you that your feelings are genuine too, monster girl. So, don’t second guess the shit out of yourself like you’re likely to do.’

  “Let’s ride the mini-coaster,” I offer, heading towards it without looking back.

  My luck, the seats hold three and I’m squished in between the two hard muscled bodies that I want to—gods, stop it, Keri!

  After the uncomfortable ride—that took ten years—on the coaster I plop down at a table and proceed to pout. Yes, pout. I’m woman enough to admit I do it. Rime sits across from me and Ciar beside me.

  Linking his hands in front of him, Rime leans forward and pins me with those ice blue eyes that my heart—the traitorous thing—uses an excuse to beat fast.

  “I’m sorry that I brought that mess to your home and I wanted to thank you for still allowing me to come there.” Mentioning the mess that is his wife instantly cools my hormones, thank the gods. “Everything is just moving so fast and I thought that you were going to force me to give up my life. It helps that Ciar told me about the bond too. I had no idea that—” He’s moving before I can blink, and then Ciar pulls me to the side as an ice barrier pops up in the space my head previously occupied. An arrow, vibrating with magic, is stuck in the ice.

  “Are you flipping kidding me?” I blurt out from where I’m laying under Ciar. How he managed to get me under him on the ground I have no idea, but he did.

  “These assassination attempts are becoming tedious. It’s time to do things my way now, monster girl.”

  “Which is different how?” I snap out, not mad at him but the entire situation.

  “Instead of making yourself a target because you won’t do anything to protect yourself, I’m going to make an offensive move. They aren’t magically protected from my gaze, this time.” Somehow, he’s on his feet and I see the monster he keeps contained under the skin shift and push against his hold.

  Am I wrong for thinking that’s attractive? Because I do.

  Then he moves, and a shiver skitters down my spine. The Lord of the Hunt is Hunting. Definitely hot—seriously—like, if we were at home right now there’d be nudity and the tongue thing.

  “Are you turned on by that?” Rime asks, offering a hand to help me up.

  How does he possibly know that? “Uh, maybe?”

  He laughs. “I felt it, does that mean the bond is forming now?”

  Taking my mind out of the gutter, with effort, I look at the bond between us and the thread is indeed darkening and starting to pulse with life.

  “Once we do a blood bonding—” He grabs my hand and then there’s a knife in his hand that he uses—without permission I might add—to unceremoniously cut the tip of my finger. To further this violation he then sticks my finger in his mouth. Before I can rail at him for being rude, I feel my blood hit his tongue. Heat flushes through my body, intense and aching, and making me think about things that I shouldn’t be right now. Against my will I moan from the force of it.

  “You could’ve picked a better time for this.” I hear Ciar say. He’s so far away in that tunnel, but then his warm arms are around me and the inebriation is starting to dim a bit. “I’m here, monster girl with Frosty the Idiot who decided to start your bond at a picnic table in public, right after someone tried to shoot you in the back of the head with a magically charmed arrow.”

  “Wow that was a mouthful… speaking of mouthful,” giggle, “When we get back to the house…” another drunken giggle follows. Gods, is that me talking? “I’m toooootally doing the tongue thing.” Holy meatballs that’s awful. I sound like I swam in a lake of wine and drank half of it. I can’t have this.

  Gritting my teeth until I taste blood I force myself out of the haze that’s from the bond forming. Without asking first, I might add. The one good thing about it right now is, Rime isn’t any better off than I am. He’s sitting on the ground across from me, a dumbfounded look on his face as he stares at me.

  “That’s what a real bond feels like, Frosty. Now compare the two and tell me which one is true,” Ciar chastises, lifting me into his arms.

  He walks over to Rime and pulls him to his feet. With as much warning as Rime gave me, he grabs Rime’s hand and using a claw, cuts open the thumb on his right hand and shoves it in my mouth.

  Instinctually I suck and, once I get past the metallic taste I discover that his blood tastes like the snow I used to eat in the winter. All fluffy and fat flakes that are soft enough to make into a ball but not stay that way. My stomach lurches and my head spins and for a moment I’m inside him. His shock at my intrusion and exchange of memories—because I can feel him rooting around in my head too—I find the source of his shame and guilt concerning Penelope.

  “Gods you idiot.” I mutter, resting my head against Ciar’s shoulder. Wait a minute, “Ciar, you took advantage to finish the bond.”

  He kisses my forehead and tucks me closer to his chest. “Of course, I did. Come on, I think its time to go home.” I peek at Rime over Ciar’s shoulder as we walk towards
home, me being carried like a baby because I’m pretty sure that my legs are made from water and won’t hold me.

  Rime is staggering side to side behind us but still managing to move forward. The handle to the wagon in his hand doing the zigzags with him on the sidewalk. The blue that’s normally in his eyes is gone and those frozen orbs are on me the entire way home.

  All my sappy butt can think is, aw that’s sweet, he didn’t forget my prizes.

  There never was a merry world since the Fairies left off dancing, and the Parson left conjuring.

  ~John Selden, “Parson,” Table talk, 1689

  I woke up with one of the worst hangovers of my life. The sad thing is, I don’t remember the fun that usually comes with drinking. No table dancing or bad singing to lift my spirits.

  What I do remember is…

  “Ciar, where the heck are my pants?”

  “On the ceiling fan where you threw them, right before you did this grand strip tease.” Oh gods. Oh, my gods. Unable to help myself I look up at my pants spinning lazily on the ceiling fan, the memory coming back to me in pieces.

  My strip tease consisted of me slinging off my pants and falling over face first on the bed where I’m pretty sure I proceeded to pass out. I cover my eyes with my hands. Fudge, I did some other dumb crap too.

  “Did I tell Penelope to—”

  “Yep, you told her that her face was permanently stuck into ‘I smell farts’ position and that she’d smile more if she did in fact, smell farts.”

  “Did Rime get—”

  “No, he snorted when she turned around and got caught making faces behind her back. That bastard was as drunk on the bond as you were.”

  Groaning I cover my face with a pillow.

  “I didn’t take my clothes off in front of her, did I?”

  “No.”

  “Thank gods for small mercies.” Sighing, I let myself relax and realize that I can feel them both now. Ciar’s bond is calm and dark—soothing really. Rime’s is cold—big shock there—and light. Right now, he’s not light. I can feel his anger thrumming along the bond and it’s not at me.

  This time.

  But he does learn fast. He’s already blocking me out of the conversation, he just can’t hide his emotions from me. Ciar does the same darn thing. Now I need to learn how to do it.

  I thought I had it, but when the bond between Ciar and me opened I lost it.

  The only person I know has the answer, is the one I want to hide my thoughts from, so it looks like I need to go to the library. Knowing he overheard everything that went through my mind, I move the pillow and stick my tongue out at him.

  “Why did you complete the bond, knowing that he’s still hung up on the crap that she’s spewing?” I ask.

  “I wasn’t about to leave something like that up to him to decide. He’ll take forever and with what’s going on I can’t have that.”

  “You can’t have that? What about what I can or can’t have?”

  He sits on the bed beside of me, leaning over me to stare into my face. “Monster girl, losing you—losing you would destroy me. Completely, utterly. And selfishly I don’t want that to happen.” With a quick kiss he climbs to his feet and continues his task.

  Which I realize is packing a bag.

  “Are you leaving?” I ask, even as I watch him put a pair of my shorts in the bag.

  “Yep, that’s exactly why I’m packing your bikini, I figure I can make a stylish get-away.” Throwing the pillow at him isn’t effective but it makes me feel better.

  “So what’s the bag for then?”

  “The beach, monster girl.” Jumping out of bed I wobble over to help him.

  “We’re going for the entire day?” He removes the jeans and socks I toss in, refolding them before putting them back. Well, isn’t he a peach?

  “We’re going for the entire weekend,” he pauses, “after the Mixer tonight.”

  “Ugh. What is the big deal about basically rubbing noses in stuff?”

  “Someone like me doesn’t become part of a Triad often, monster girl. We need to clearly establish that I have, and your status because of it.”

  “You know I feel like I’m missing some big detail here, and for the life of me I don’t get it. You’re a Puca.”

  “He’s not merely a Puca, mistress. Your dear Ciar is a king,” Zag pipes up from the bed.

  I turn on him, “Are you flipping serious? A king?” Ciar actually gives Zag a dirty look.

  “I was going to talk with you about it.”

  “You’ve had most of my life to talk with me about it. Why the heck didn’t you tell me?”

  “Would it have changed anything?” he asks softly, continuing to pack the bag.

  Thinking about it, I sit on the edge of the bed. It’s a valid question, even I see that, but it’s a big secret and I guess I’m a little hurt he didn’t tell me. The weight of him sitting beside me brings me up against him.

  “I love you, Keri. I don’t care what stupid titles I have. If you don’t want to do this, we can go to the beach early and they can fuck right off,” he offers, and for a moment I’m tempted, only for a moment. He’s right, I hate it but he’s right.

  It’s all about maneuvering on the gameboard of life with the Fae and this is a good move. Sighing, I lean my head on his shoulder.

  “What are you wearing tonight?” The smile that spreads across his face kind of makes me want to climb on his lap.

  “It’s a surprise. Now go get some breakfast, Gertie said she made choco chip pancakes.” At damn near a run I head out the door, I love pancakes. It’s one of my favorite foods in the world. And choco chips ones are the elite of pancakes.

  Impatient to get down the stairs I jump over the railing and land easily on my feet. Rime is in the kitchen when the swinging door flies open and Penelope has a bite of pancake halfway to her mouth.

  My eyes take in the scene in one swoop. The empty plate in front of her has a note beside it that clearly says my name with a little heart next to it. She’s eating my flipping pancakes.

  This time Rime can feel me, can probably eavesdrop on my thoughts. His apprehension pulls me down from the anger zone. I’m a nice person, mostly, but it’s a crime to eat someone’s food without permission.

  Penelope smiles like the jerk she is and pops the last bite in her mouth. The urge to cross the room and shake her is a hard one to fight, but then her fate flashes above her head. The one I saw before.

  Inside of me something loosens, and I feel the whistle shape my mouth and come out with the skill of a songbird. The table begins to shake and the plate rattles against it.

  “Exist.” The word leaves me with effort.

  Penelope’s fate isn’t to die like a lot of them are, hers is… worse really. A roar like a Dragon’s echoes outside of the house and then the entire house starts to shake. Still I whistle.

  “Keri, what are you doing?” Rime’s voice holds his concern and he goes to step towards me, but the forcefield around me holds him back.

  “Giving her the fate she deserves a little early.”

  Everything stops. The roaring, the shaking and rattling. Everything. Turning on my heel I walk towards the front door and am not surprised by the knock. Swinging it open I look at the frazzled—human—man in front of me.

  “I’m terribly sorry but I was walking in the store and then suddenly I’m here,” he says, nervously.

  “That’s okay, there’s someone in the kitchen who has some things to tell you.” I step aside and wave for him to walk by me. As the skinny, buck toothed fellow slips past me, the burning of my upper arm begins to throb incredibly painfully.

  Hissing through my teeth I pull up my sleeve and look as the rune for liar appears on my skin. This brand hurts more than the other one because this time it’s earlier. But it’s her fate. This man, whatever his name is, is her real husband and the real father of her baby. Her fate is to be with him, at first miserable but slowly over the years, happy.

  It
could be much worse.

  “Kirby what the fuck are you doing here?” Penelope demands from the kitchen.

  “I can ask the same of you. How the hell did I get here?”

  “Who are you?” Rime asks, softly, with menace in his voice. Sounds a bit like Ciar.

  “I’m her husband, who the hell are you?” Even out here if a pin dropped in that room I’d hear it. “Is this the reason you’ve been gone for months?” Kirby demands, I imagine pointing or looking at Rime as he says it.

  “Kirby, you were ignoring me.” Wow, petulant much?

  “Ignoring you? I was working to pay for the house you just had to have and the car that you’ve yet to learn how to drive. Those things aren’t cheap.”

  “You and your brother weren’t in the orphanage, were you?” Rime interrupts, sounding sad and defeated.

  “Her idiot brother is in jail for embezzling from the Leprechauns. Orphanage, ha. I doubt she’s ever seen one, let alone been in one.” Kirby adds.

  “Why then, Penelope?”

  “You were so damn gullible when I met you, and when you were drunk you told me a few stories and I embellished them a bit when I returned.”

  “Did you two have relations?” Kirby sounds shocked, but I have a feeling this isn’t the first time Penelope has wandered.

  “She and I met at a club, had sex—protected sex—and she returned a few months ago claiming that while we were drunk that we got married, and the baby is mine.” Rime is nothing but honest with the man.

  Kirby laughs and it’s one of those laughs that hurts your ears.

  “This scam never gets old for you does it, Penelope. The pregnancy is new but how else can she explain the size of her ass? I don’t even get mad at the man she dupes anymore, it’s not your fault for being a sucker.” Penelope sobs in the background. “Rest assured, the two of you aren’t married and that child she carries is mine. I had it tested to be sure.” There’s a beat of silence. “Now unless you want to be disinherited, Penelope, I suggest you get your things and come along. I have to figure out where I am, so we can go home.”

  Pushing open the kitchen door I take in the occupants of the room. Rime has his hip against the counter, his face in one hand, shoulders slouched. Hopefully, with relief. Penelope looks like she swallowed something that tastes bad and Kirby is looking around the bare kitchen with distaste.