Mad About You

by Alyssa Dean

  "Fixing your face." She pulled out a small glass jar, and knelt on the sofa. "Sit still," she ordered as she gently dabbed on ointment. It was cool, and felt wonderful against the soreness of his skin.

  "What is that?" he mumbled, enjoying her light, soothing touch.

  "It's my mother's recipe. Aloe vera, crushed rose petals… a few other things." She completed her task. "There. That should feel better."

  "It does," he agreed. "Thanks."

  She quivered in a breath. "Those men out there, are they hurt?"

  "Not badly enough," Kent grunted savagely. He watched Faye slide to her feet, tiptoe to the still-open front door, and peek out.

  She returned to him. "You'll have to come with me."

  "Come where?"

  Faye gestured toward the helicopter. "Out there." She picked up his right hand and tugged. "Please. I can't go by myself. I just can't."

  He didn't move, his jaw falling open as he realized what she wanted to do. "Leave them!" he ordered. "You can't possibly want to…"

  "I have to see how badly they're hurt." She rubbed at her eyes with one finger. "I'm an Ayaldwode. This is my forest. It's my responsibility."

  "No. They're not seriously injured. They'll be fine. Leave them."

  "Please, Kent. I have to. Please."

  "Oh, hell, I don't believe this. They didn't give a damn about you, Faye."

  She fluttered her lashes at him, her mouth closing to a pout. "Please."

  Kent rolled his eyes and let her drag him to his feet. She slipped her hand inside his, wrapping her fingers tightly around his palm. "You are absolutely insane," he muttered as she led him outside.

  She thrust her chin in the air and walked determinedly toward the helicopter. The two handcuffed men slid back as far as they could, eyeing Kent with wary apprehension. Faye's steps faltered as she took in the sight—two men, each a good four inches taller than Kent, handcuffed to the helicopter; Burton's forehead had one large bruise, and Davy's temple was about the same.

  Faye stopped and looked up at Kent, her eyes as big as the helicopter itself. "Wh-what did you do to them?"

  Kent rubbed a palm along his temple. "Asked them to leave us alone."

  "Oh." She took three steps toward the men, studied them intently, then returned. "Take off the handcuffs."

  "I don't think so." He caught her hand, intending to take her back into the cabin.

  She resisted. "You have to take off the handcuffs. That one man—" she pointed at Burton "—there's something wrong with his hand. It's swelling."

  "So's your face."

  "Oh, but Kent…"

  He shook his head, bunching his jaw into a stubborn knot.

  Faye looked uncertainly from him to the two men, her forehead creased with worry. "I can't leave them like this."

  Kent put a hand on each of her shoulders and turned her to face the cabin. "No."

  She took two reluctant steps, and stopped. "They're hurt. They won't do anything to us."

  Kent folded his arms over his chest. "Those are two very dangerous dudes, babe. If they're free, they'll do everything they can think of to hang on to you and get the formula. Do you want that?"

  She shook her head no.

  "Then leave them be."

  He strode past her, but she skipped up beside, pulling his arm. "I still have some long-sleep powder left. I could put them to sleep."

  Kent looked down into her upturned, frowning face. He knew a losing battle when he saw one. Faye wasn't going to give up; she'd simply keep at him until he capitulated. He tried one last, petulant attempt: "I don't have the key for the handcuffs."

  She batted silver-flecked eyelashes at him.

  "All right, all right. Put them to sleep, and I'll undo the handcuffs."

  Faye ran into the cabin, returning with her bag. She filled her palm with dust from it, crept as close as she dared, and blew it onto the men, one at a time. As soon as they were asleep, she gave Kent an expectant look. He focused on the handcuffs, squeezing his eyes against the throbbing of his head. "There. I hope you're happy now."

  She smiled up at him, not at all fazed by what he'd Just done, and rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "You're a darling."

  "Uh-huh," he grunted. His cheek tingled where she'd kissed it, and her soft words were much too pleasing. He watched her apply ointment to both men's bruises, and to Burton's injured hand. "Can we go now?"

  "No." She glanced up at him with anxious eyes. "I have to check the men in the helicopter."

  He didn't even try to talk her out of it. "Hurry up, then."

  She repeated the same process on those two, blowing her sleep dust on them even though they were unconscious, then doing her thing with the ointment. Finally she returned to Kent, and smiled with relief. "I'm finished. We can go."

  Kent followed her back to the cabin, shaking his head in amazement. Once inside, Faye went straight to the kitchen and began fumbling through cupboards. Kent found his backpack and started gathering his possessions.

  He was leaning against the fireplace, rolling up his sweater, when Faye approached him. "Here," she said, handing him a dish. "These should help your headache. They aren't as strong as macadamia, but I think Wizards—"

  "I thought we'd settled that Wizard business," he interrupted.

  "I made a mistake." She lowered her head with a contrite sigh. "It does happen. After all, I am part Welsh."

  "Part Welsh," Kent murmured. She was standing too close, the angle of her head endearingly sweet, everything about her so gentle and kind. How could anyone possibly hurt her?

  Kent set down the dish, slipped a hand behind her neck into the silky smoothness of her hair, and tipped her head up. Very slowly and methodically he bent toward her, his mouth laying an onslaught of kisses on her bottom lip, then pouncing when she moaned and opened her mouth. She tasted like pinecones and sunshine; her lips unbelievably soft, her whimpers of pleasure intoxicating. As her arms encircled his neck, he lifted her off the floor, needing to get as close to her as possible. She cooperated enthusiastically, sliding her sweet-smelling body against his as if they'd been doing this for years. He lifted his head, then filled his mouth with her again. One of her hands went into his hair, the other caressed his neck.

  Kent raised his head, feeling his heart beating with unnecessary force. He pressed his lips together to hold in her lingering taste.

  Faye's eyelids fluttered open. "Oh, my," she said in an approving half-whisper. "You should have kissed me like that before. I would have known for sure you were the Wizard."

  Kent pressed a thumb pad to her bottom lip. "I'm no Wizard, honey."

  She flicked out her tongue, touching it to his thumb. "You can't trick me again," she said, lifting her chin into the air. "I'm part Ayaldwode. I can tell a Wizard when I kiss one."

  Chapter Seven

  "I have to stop for a minute," Kent announced. He leaned a shoulder against a tree, his breathing deep and ragged. "Can you hear anyone coining?"

  "No," said Faye. "Sit down."

  He slid down the length of the tree, bent his knees and rested his forehead on them. Faye sat down beside him, pulled a flask of water out of her bag, and wrapped his fingers around it. He took a tiny sip, handed it back, and let his head fall forward again.

  Faye studied him, concerned. They hadn't been walking for any more than an hour, heading west along the side of the hill. It wasn't a difficult hike, yet with each step they took, she could see Kent's strength waning. Whatever he had done back there had drained his power. The forest rejuvenated her, but it was not having the same effect on him. He needed to rest, to eat, and to sleep. Even now, his naturally dark skin was paling, and the bruises on it looked angrier than ever.

  He lifted his head and passed a hand over his face. "Let's keep going."

  Faye shook her head. "Let's just… sit here for a minute."

  He pressed his head back against the tree, and closed his eyes. "You don't need to rest. You could run all day through here, couldn
't you?"

  "I don't know," she hedged. "I've never tried it."

  He chuckled, the sound quiet and weak in the silence of the forest, "You're so small," he mused. "Yet you're strong as a horse." He opened one eye to look at her. "No, make that a team of horses."

  "Horses," Faye repeated thoughtfully. Now there was a good idea. "Can you ride one?" she asked.

  "A horse? Yep. I worked on a ranch for a year or so. For the first six months, I could hardly walk, but after that I got used to it."

  Faye turned her head to face the forest, and softly crooned the special words. Kent made a move to rise, and she put a hand on his arm. "Not yet. Please."

  He settled back, hid a yawn behind his hand, and closed his eyes again.

  "What was a Wizard doing on a ranch?" Faye asked. She wanted to keep him here, resting, as long as she could.

  "Business consultant," he corrected. "It was ten years ago now, I guess. I wasn't anything more than a ranch hand then."

  "And a Wizard," she added.

  His lips twitched. "I keep telling you, I'm not a Wizard."

  Faye picked up a pinecone to study it. "I saw what you did with those handcuffs."

  "Oh, that!" He dismissed it with a gesture. "It's nothing. I've just got a strong magnetic field, that's all."

  "A strong magnetic field?"

  "Yeah. Some people are born that way. My cousin was much better at it than I am. Before he passed away, he taught me how to focus sol could move objects. He could move things without even being near them. I'm getting better at that, but I usually have to see or feel what I want to move."

  "Telekinesis," Faye exclaimed, impressed. "Wow!"

  He gave her a sexy, sideways glance. "See. No magic."

  Faye set the pinecone down. "Depends what you consider magic. Everything I can do is explainable, but I know it's magic."

  "And what is it that you can do?"

  "Sleep potions, healing potions, growing potions—all the things a wood sprite knows. They're mostly things I learned from my mother and my grandmother."

  He arched an eyebrow. "I thought you'd never met your grandmother."

  "Oh, I haven't," she admitted. "But I can communicate with her."

  "You can, can you?" Kent sounded skeptical. "How do you do that?"

  "I don't do it. Grandma does it, when she wants me to know something. It's sort of hard to explain—it just happens. It's not at all like you and your sister."

  Kent hissed in a breath and his eyes jumped open. "My sister?" he repeated, the words slow and questioning.

  "Yes." She studied his reaction. "Isn't that what you were doing a few minutes ago? Telling your sister you were all right?"

  "How could you possibly know about that?" Kent asked, his eyes and his voice showing his astonishment.

  Faye didn't understand his surprise. "Is it a secret or something?"

  "It's not exactly a secret. It's just… not common knowledge. Most people don't understand mental telepathy."

  "I'm not most people," Faye reminded him. "I'm an Ayaldwode. We know these things."

  "Ah." Kent closed his eyes again.

  "Why can't you tell Avril to call the police?" Faye asked.

  "It doesn't work that way. From this distance we can only exchange feelings. When we're closer, we can be a bit more specific, but it's not like talking to someone on the phone. Besides, do you really think the police would believe it if some woman from Canada called them up and told them to go rescue her brother in Idaho?"

  "Probably not."

  "Me neither." He slowly shook his head. "I think she'll call Dan, though, hopefully before he leaves for Salt Lake City. I don't expect we're going to get there today, and Dan gets awful cranky when I'm not where I'm supposed to be."

  She considered this unique ability. "It must be nice to always be in touch with someone who cares about you. You'd never be alone."

  "That's true. On the other hand, having someone tell you how you feel isn't all it's cracked up to be."

  There was a hidden meaning in his words, one Faye had no problem picking up. "Ah," she said. "Avril thought you were in love enough to get married, didn't she?"

  "Oh, yes." His voice sounded as worn-out as he looked. "She wanted the marriage a lot more than I did. Wanted me to settle down, but…"

  "I know." Faye put her head on his shoulder. "Too restless, right?"

  "Right."

  "That's just typical Wizard behavior," Faye assured him.

  "I told you, I'm not…" He let his voice trail off into a sigh, and rested his head against hers. "Never mind."

  They sat there quietly for a few minutes, while Faye thought. "I know what's wrong with you," she exclaimed. "You've drained your magnetic field. You need to reestablish it, somehow."

  "Uh-huh. And how do you suggest I do that?"

  "I'm not sure," Faye admitted. "I should know how. I'll give it some thought."

  He patted her shoulder. "You do that, babe. In the meantime, it might be best if you—" The bushes rustled, there were noises of an approaching presence. Kent was on his feet, his hand pulling her to a stand.

  "It's nothing," Faye told him. "Just some… assistance."

  He stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. "Assistance?"

  "The horses." She swept out her arm, and as she did, two horses slipped through the bushes: a gray mare, and a chestnut gelding with a blond mane. They stopped when they saw Faye, and stood side by side, waiting.

  Kent squeezed his eyes closed, then opened them again. "Horses," he said faintly. "Where did… ?"

  "They belong to Mr. Taggert." She patted each horse, whispered into their ears, and smiled. "They don't mind helping."

  "Horses," Kent repeated.

  "You said you knew how to ride."

  "I do, but how did you… ?" He stopped and shook his head. "Never mind. I know. You're an Ayaldwode."

  "Part Welsh," she corrected. "You can ride the mare. Kalli, here, is a bit… crabby. He doesn't like his sister bossing him around."

  "I can sympathize." Kent ran a long-fingered hand down the withers of the mare.

  Faye was entranced by the gesture. She watched it, feeling an exciting warmth start in her abdomen, then spread throughout the rest of her body. Kent flicked his eyes in her direction. To her astonishment he blushed.

  The color darkened his cheekbones, making him look almost healthy. She tore her gaze away from him. "The mare is called Ratlin."

  Kent held his hand flat against Katlin's nostrils, letting her catch his scent while Faye moved to the side of the gelding, put her hands on his withers and vaulted on.

  Kent looked up at her, his eyes dark with wonder. Then he wrapped his left hand in the mare's mane and gave a lithe leap onto her back. "Lead on," he said.

  Faye leaned over Kalli's mane and whispered their destination. The horse turned and began to amble back the way it had come. Eaye crouched low to avoid the branches, checking behind her to make sure Kent was doing the same thing. As she saw his long, lean body pressed against the mare's back, the warmth that had begun earlier intensified. Her breath caught in her throat. Kent raised his head, and for one second she saw a reflection of her own emotion in his face.

  The gelding faked a stumble. Faye turned her attention to where they were going.

  The rain began forty-five minutes later. It didn't start out as a drizzle, but rather the clouds opened up and dumped their entire contents in huge drops so thickly clumped together that seeing was difficult. It wasn't comfortable to ride through, but Faye was grateful for nature's camouflage. She wasn't sure if Kent had picked up the sound, but she'd heard it—the noise of a helicopter, about fifteen minutes before the rain started.

  The four sleeping men they'd left at her place were getting assistance. Pretty soon, someone would be searching for her and Kent.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him, and bit her lip. They'd come out of the forest fifteen minutes ago, and could now sit upright, but Kent wasn't doing that. His head was
bent down against the rain, chin touching his chest, and his shoulders drooped with fatigue. A half hour ahead of them was a fork of the river. It would swell up fast in this deluge of rain, making crossing difficult. They could easily be trapped on this side of it.

  That idea made her heart take a giant, frightened leap. Stop it! she told herself. Stay calm. Don't panic. She took another look at Kent, and dug her fingernails into her palm. She was his Ayaldwode; it was her responsibility to take care of him, to keep them safe. She should be able to do that—they were in her territory now, not some dark basement, nasty laboratory, or frightening city. In this weather, they would have difficulty using their technology to come after them. There were no roads back here, no access other than foot, or horse. She was certain none of those men were capable of using either of those means.

  What would they do? Well, it didn't take a genius to figure out that she and Kent would have to get help. If they weren't on the road, it was natural to assume that they were in the back country, and would head for a neighbor's. If she were a bad guy, she'd simply go to the neighbor's and wait. She shuddered at that idea. Perhaps she was leading her Wizard right into a trap.

  She forced herself to breathe deeply. A trap wasn't a trap until you were in it. Fully rested and prepared, she was confident Kent could handle anything, although, in this condition, he wasn't much of a threat. What she needed to do was find someplace where he could get himself together.

  A gust of wind blew against them, and her horse suddenly stopped, then veered east. Faye was about to turn him back, but reconsidered. She hadn't been out this way for quite some time. There was something out here she should remember. What was it?

  As they moved along the valley, it came to her. This part of the river was sometimes used by a tour company, for white-water rafters. A couple of years ago, the company had received permission from Mr. Taggert to build a small hut out here, in case of emergencies. She could remember how Mr. Taggert had considered the whole enterprise silly, and how he claimed to have made big money from the tour company for the use of the land. Somewhere around here, well back from the river, was that hut. It would be the perfect place to rest.