“Are Reece and Amelie downstairs, too?” I tipped out the contents of the next bag onto the foot of the bed to sort through.
“Why?” he questioned, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Because I believe the information I gained concerns Reece too.” My fingers threaded through the price label of the garment I’d picked up and snapped it off.
“And Amelie? Why does she need to hear this?” The way he said her name left no doubt what his—and really all of the sidhe—thought of wolves.
“Because I like her.” I had no further reason than that. She was nice, and seemed genuinely friendly. Whoever I had been, before coming into this body, I got the hollow sense that I hadn’t had many friends.
Arlo made a noise under his breath that I couldn’t decipher so chose to ignore. For another few moments, I worked silently, folding my new clothes and placing them carefully in my drawer or on hangers.
“Done.” I beamed at the surly biker when just one top was left in my pile.
It was a vibrant red halter-neck thing, with a low, almost non-existent back and a ribbon tie around the neck. The color reminded me of Sabdh’s lips and the cut was perfect.
Grasping the hem of my t-shirt, I pulled it over my head in one clean movement and my sharp hearing picked up on Arlo's breath catching.
“What the fuck are you doing now, Veil Keeper?” he growled, but his voice held a note of curiosity and eagerness that made me chuckle.
“Changing. Is that acceptable?” I met his gaze, not blinking, and also making no move to cover up my nakedness. Like I'd said, this wasn't my body. These weren't my tits. Wherever the fuck I'd been since my earthly death, it hadn't been anywhere that modesty was considered so even if this body hadn't been a stranger to me, it wouldn't have phased me to have his hungry eyes on me like they were.
Arlo made another noise; this time I took it to be approval. Not that I needed his approval on anything. But I shrugged one of my bare shoulders and slipped the ruby red fabric over my body, then turned my back and perched on the edge of the bed.
“Do me up?” I asked innocently. This time, unlike when I'd asked Kill to help me dress, I knew exactly what I was doing.
So did Arlo.
His rough fingertips trailed up my naked spine to my neck where he took hold of the trailing ribbons and ever so carefully, tied them into a bow.
“Why the need to change?” he asked, his voice husky and thick with desire, and I could see the hard evidence straining his jeans when I turned back around. I'd already exchanged Caley's borrowed leggings for a pair of secondhand, ripped skinny jeans while I'd been unpacking my shopping, but I'd been aching to have my back bare all day.
Answering Arlo in actions instead of words, I released my wings and moaned aloud with the sheer joy of freeing those heavy appendages.
It seemed strange, on some level, how complete I felt when my wings were free. As far as I could tell, my former body had not had wings. Hell, I didn't think I'd even been fae. But now, I couldn't imagine life without them.
“Fuck,” Arlo hissed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his dilated pupils watched my wings shudder and stretch.“Why did Le Gardien need to be so Veil-damned beautiful?”
His words were quiet, almost reverent and I wasn't altogether sure he meant for me to hear them.
“Come on.” I held out a hand to him. “I'll tell you all what the seer said. Then we can start working on how to fix the Veil.”
He took my outstretched hand, tugging me up from the bed until we were face to face. Or, as much as we could be given my diminutive size and his … considerable one.
Reaching over my head, he stroked a finger over the top curve of my wing, and I groaned. Tingling warmth seemed to shudder through me from his touch, and the scent of springtime filled my nostrils. Fresh grass, wild flowers blooming, and the heady aroma of Arlo's arousal.
From where my face was directly in front of his chest, all I could see were the detailed, swirling patterns of his ink, and my fingers grasped instinctively at his broad waist.
“Let's go, Keeper,” he rumbled, withdrawing his touch from my wings almost reluctantly, and brushing past me to the door. “The sooner we get this fucking Veil fixed …”
He trailed off with a strangled sort of sound, and the sour taste in my mouth told me he'd been about to lie.
That was the first time anyone around me had come even close to lying, and I didn't look forward to the time when someone did manage it.
But it did beg the question, what exactly had he just been about to lie to me on?
Downstairs, Arlo didn't lead me through to the living room as I'd expected, but instead into what looked like a dimly lit bar, complete with pool tables where Reece and Killian were engaged in what appeared to be a heated debate.
Their words died off before I could catch anything of substance, but I cocked my head at them curiously.
“Boys.” Arlo greeted them with a smirk.“Arguing over who breaks again?”
“Something like that,” Killian replied with a glare, and again the sour taint implied there was much more going on than a debate over their pool game.
“Filles, can you give us a few?” Reece asked Caley and Amelie, who had been sitting at a high table and sipping on drinks.
The rest of the bar was totally deserted, which was probably a good thing given I had my enormous wings on full display. Then again, the entire Wild Hunt MC were fae, so it wouldn't have shocked anyone.
“No.” I shook my head. “They can stay.”
“Whatever’s goin’ on here ain’t none of their damn business,” Reece said, standing up and frowning, the massive muscles in his arms straining as he tightened his fist around the pool stick, all those swirls of … I wasn’t sure if they were tattoos or some sort of fae marking … but they twisted around his skin and disappeared underneath the sleeves of his shirt.
“Caley especially doesn’t need to stick around and hear this shit,” Arlo snorted, lighting up a cigarette and kicking open a back door. The raggedy old thing swung wide, letting in the sounds and smells of the bayou. I could hear the distant call of birds as the sun set on the horizon, warning calls and hello-chittering alike. It mixed with the distinct grunt of gators, the call of an eagle, and far away but not far enough … the whir of an airboat engine.
“Who is that?” I asked, my wings perking up in alarm. I made my way over to the door as Arlo smoked and leaned outside, watching the sun reflect off the murky water, huge clumps of Spanish moss dangling from branches, trailing their mossy green fingers in the gators’ domain. Water sloshed against the edge of the old dock as I peered outside and squinted into the sprawling mess of trees and swamp and mud. It was a landscape unlike anywhere else in the world, a tangled paradise of times past, both ancient and surreal. And the smell? It had this deep, earthy quality to it, like there was magic hiding underneath that shallow water. “The airboat.”
“That’ll be the boys taking care of business,” Arlo said, and the way the word business snapped off the end of his tongue, I didn’t much care for. I turned my sapphire gaze on him, but he wouldn’t look at me.
“Okay, Arlo is right …” Caley said, sliding off the stool and sucking down the last of her drink before placing the glass back on the copper surface of the bar. “I’m not a member of the club, and I don’t want to be.”
She snatched her purse up and slung it over her shoulder, throwing a soft smile in my direction before bending down to pick up her shopping bag from earlier. Not only had I found myself a few outfits, but so had Caley and Amelie. She patted the plastic bag and grinned.
“Sorry in advance for my brother’s attitude,” she said, “and thanks for letting me piggyback a few outfits on your shopping trip.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” Arlo said, exhaling and curling up his lip. He gestured rudely in her direction. “Don’t you have to get some sleep before your next shift?”
“Thank you Dad,” Caley said with an exaggera
ted roll of her eyes. “But yes, I’ll be heading upstairs for some quality sleep. Now that the Veil Keeper’s here and all the groupies have been kicked out of the building, it’s a hell of a lot quieter …”
Arlo picked up an empty beer bottle and chucked it in her direction as Caley squealed, dodged it, and then slipped out of the room through a pair of old-timey swinging doors.
“You need to learn to treat that sister of yours right,” Amelie said, and Arlo snarled low under his breath.
“What business are the boys taking care of?” I asked, because whatever business it was, it wasn’t my business and it should be, shouldn’t it? Ciarah … she was never anyone of much importance, I knew, but the Veil Keeper? She was more important than every soul on this planet combined. She should know everything that was going on, shouldn’t she?
Arlo scoffed under his breath and Killian whispered something in French.
“Feedin’ bodies to the gators,” Amelie said, and when I turned to look at her, her white toothed smile was bright in her face, almost … wolflike. “How inconvenient to drag ‘em out there like that. Back home, we just eat ‘em ourselves.”
“Dat’s about enough o’ dat,” Reece said, lifting his hand up and massaging his temple. He glanced over at me and some of the anger leaked out of his expression, making way for a lascivious smile, a magnanimous grin that spread across his tanned face and made my heart thunder. “And girl, why you wanna shack up wit’ Arlo dere? Old Reece’d be more than happy to let you share his bed.” He winked at me and smacked his lips, making me bite my own. “That’d be a huge honor to share with da Veil Keeper. Wouldn’t hear none of dat bitching and whining from me, no.”
“You’re more than welcome to change your mind,” Arlo said, finishing his cigarette and flicking it out the back door to lie in a pile of other discarded butts. “I’ll even move your clothes for you, free of charge.”
“The more you protest, the more determined I am to stay,” I told him as Killian moved over to the bar and poured two drinks, bringing one over to me. I took it in steady hands and stared into the glass, my mind flashing with distant memory. As I closed my eyes and took a sip, sounds and sights came rushing back to me … a crowded bar, a man’s warm mouth trailing down the side of my neck, big hands on my hips. I blinked a few times and the memories flittered away like sprites in the wind.
And speaking of …
“There’s another one,” I said as I looked over and found a mottled-skinned little monster crouching on the windowsill. As soon as it caught me looking, it opened its wide mouth in a hiss, flashing sharp teeth, its see-through pixie wings thrumming as it tried to take flight.
“The fucking audacity,” Killian said, and with a flick of one, long tattooed finger, he had the sprite coughing and choking, wings fluttering as it tried and failed to fly away. It fell back to the windowsill, stumbled forward and collapsed inside the bar.
Moving over to it, I lifted it into my hands and found that its breath was frosted and cold, pluming in the air with little shards of ice clinging to its lips. As I held it in my palm, it took one, last shuddering breath and … died. I felt its spirit flee its body and then, I grabbed hold of it. It stuck for a few seconds and then shattered, flittering away like leaves in the wind.
“Its spirit …” I said, feeling my mouth water and sweat drip down the side of my face. I’d been about to eat it, that spirit energy. Hell, I felt like I was starving all of a sudden. And it wasn’t food or even sex that I was starving for …
“Sprites share one spirit,” Killian said, moving over to me, the steel toes of his boots appearing in my vision before he bent down to take the corpse. “Thousands of them make up one being. The punishment of being reborn as a murder of sprites is reserved for the worst of the worst.”
He stood back up and I followed, watching as he passed the tiny creature’s body over to Reece. The big Cajun man moved outside and paused with his foot on one of the dock’s extended legs.
“Hey, Meme!” he shouted as I stepped out after him and paused. Fireflies had gathered above the water, dancing in the early evening shadows. I watched them, curling my fingers against the legs of my jeans. “C’mere girl!”
Reece tossed the tiny carcass into the water and not ten seconds later, a gator’s head was popping up and grabbing it, dragging the mottled creature into the dark depths.
“Taking care of business …” I whispered, but it made sense. And gators needed to eat, too.
“Nice and clean, no dirty hands ‘round here,” Reece said, glancing over and noticing the expression on my face. Something about those fireflies … I shook my head to clear it and looked over at him.
“There could be more sprites around here,” I said, glancing up at the last fading orange and yellow lights of evening. “Listening in …” And the things I had to tell the boys, I didn’t want anyone else to hear. Except Amelie, of course. Somehow, deep down, I had a sick feeling about the sprites and whatever their agenda might be …
“You’ll have to cast a spell,” Kilian said with a long sigh, coming up to stand beside me. “There’re already several no scrying spells on the clubhouse, but the sprites are like … birds … or gators … just a part of the natural landscape. Or at least, they were. I don’t much like what I’m seeing from them now.” He glanced down at me, his ice blue eyes sharp in his handsome face. “You’ll have to cast a new spell.”
“Me?” I asked, because casting a spell seemed like a huge jump for someone who’d barely been able to remember her own name … and yet had called a Wild Hunt, gobbled up a soul, and grown wings….
“Oui, chéri.” Killian scuffed his shoe on the planks of the dock, sending some dried leaves skittering into the water. “We could, but with the sprites acting up…”
“It'll be stronger from you,” Arlo finished for him.
Glancing over my shoulder—past my wings—I saw him on the end of the dock with his huge arms folded over his chest and a scowl set on his face. He hadn't even bothered to put a shirt back on when we came downstairs, and his jeans hung low on his hips, drawing my eye.
“Would you like me to help?” Killian asked softly, pulling my attention away from the half-naked asshole and back to the task at hand.
“You can do that?” I was genuinely surprised. It wouldn’t have shocked me in the least if they'd simply said, “Do a spell, Ciarah!” and just expected me to know how to work it out.
“Oui,” Killian confirmed, holding out his hand to me, palm up. “The fundamentals of magic are similar, if not the same for all sidhe. What changes the outcome depends on our individual levels of magic.” Placing my hand in his, I stifled a shiver at his cool touch. Not that it was unpleasant, not in the least. Just, unusual.
“My own magic allows me to connect with your mind. From there, I will be able to guide you,” he continued, tugging me lightly until I stood toe to toe with him on the end of the dock.
“Like when you healed me?” I asked in a quiet voice, genuinely curious.
“Oui, just like that.” His other hand slipped into the heavy hair at the nape of my neck, and his ice-blue eyes met mine. “Ready?”
“Oui,” I replied, mimicking him in a way that echoed of familiarity. Maybe either she or I had spoken French at some point in time?
Kill wasn't one to fuck around, and before my brain even finished the thought, my vision was ensnared in the chilly depths of his eyes.
Just as before, the rest of the world faded away and all I could see for miles was blue. Frozen tendrils of Killian's magic snaked around me, caressing and soothing, telling me without words that I was safe.
My mind watched with eager fascination as Killian's mist-like magic showed me the correct way to place a spell. Feeling confident that I'd understood, I repeated what he'd done.
“Did that—” I started to ask, but my words were cut short by Killian's lips on mine.
The hand he had on the back of my neck pulled me in closer, and I sucked a surprised gasp. C
onfidently, his tongue slipped past my lips, meeting mine with a gentle, languid stroke that made me want more.
“Kill.” Reece's voice broke into our private moment like a hammer through ice, and Killian reluctantly pulled back from my mouth, just an inch.
“Yes, Reece?” he replied sarcastically, his eyes still locked on mine, but his magic retreating.
“Da spell be workin'. Thought you might wanna know.” My gaze still held captive, I didn't attempt to look over at Reece, but I could hear the grin in his tone. Bastard.
“How polite,” Killian remarked in a dry voice, blinking a couple of times and releasing me. “You're a natural, Ciarah.”
“At, um,” I floundered, feeling my cheeks flush, my lips still tingling from his kiss.
“Spellcasting,” he clarified and I nodded.
Spellcasting. Of course that's what he meant. Not that I wasn't a natural at kissing, too. Some things required no memories, they were just ingrained in your soul. Or body too, I guessed.
“Is it always like that? Your magic?” I asked, realizing he'd ended up kissing me after healing my wounds, too. “I don't remember seeing you kiss Arlo after healing him?”
A broad, somewhat wicked grin split Killian's face and his tongue ran over his lower lip, like he was savoring the taste of me.
“Why, would you have liked to?” he teased and my mind went to dirty places.
“Mo Dhia, Ciarah he is taking liberties. His magic don' require dat, his cock does.” Reece snorted a laugh and even Arlo snickered.
My gaze dropped down, peering at the appendage in question and I shrugged. “Good.”
“So what did you have to tell us about this seer, Keeper?” Arlo prompted, still standing at the end of the dock with his legs spread wide and his muscular arms folded.
“That's what the old guy was?” Amelie asked, raising her eyebrows at me. “I could smell the magic on him but couldn't for the life of me work out what he was. Hmm. Seer. How curious.”
My wings flexed as a cool breeze teased at them, and I noticed how sore my back was getting. If nothing else, it showed me I needed to keep them out more often if I wanted to build those muscles up. Or, back up. I had to assume that the Veil Keeper had always had wings, and the amputation was a recent thing.
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