Eve of Samhain

by Lisa Sanchez

  Chapter 4

  “QUINN!” I ran out of the library, frantic and shouting.

  I ignored the annoyed stares and disapproving looks of several strangers as I darted down the front steps and onto the grassy area in front of the building. Standing on a bench to get a better view of my surroundings, I craned my head in search of Quinn. He couldn’t have gotten far. I left the library just a few moments after he did. This bizarre disappearing act was becoming somewhat of a habit where he was concerned. I thought back to the first day I met him at the bar. He’d vanished then as well.

  Well…if he’s a faerie, he’d be able to do things like disappear.

  I shook my head to clear the crazed thoughts taking over. I needed to get a damn grip.

  There’s no such thing as faeries, Ryann. Pull it together, girl, or someone’s going to send you to the nut house!

  Disappointed with my inability to find Quinn, I stepped off the bench with a sigh and took a seat. My stomach twisted and churned, defeat quickly becoming my new best buddy. Had I offended my new friend? Friend. Is that what we were? I wasn’t sure how to define our few brief interactions. We didn’t have much of a relationship. We’d only been together a handful of times.

  Still, despite our rocky start, there were definitely feelings between us, something I wanted to explore more than anything. I didn’t normally argue so much with members of the opposite sex—ass grabbers not included. I was generally pretty agreeable. There was just something about Quinn that drove me insane, causing me to call him out whenever he acted cocky.

  Was I trying to hide my attraction to him with defensive behavior, like some sort of bizarre foreplay or something?

  Foreplay? Was that what our arguing and attitude was?

  Whatever the case, I hoped my chances of getting to know him better weren’t destroyed. I needed to work on my impulse control. I was always sticking my foot in my mouth.

  I stood, gathered my purse and my accidentally pilfered library book, and decided to head home. Quinn was most likely pissed and not coming back, and I was done making a spectacle of myself. I’d trudged all of ten feet before I heard a loud “Ahem” from behind me.

  When I turned, there was Quinn, shooting daggers at me with his beautiful baby blues.

  “Have I not told you that it isn’t safe to be walking about on your own?”

  I let out a loud huff. Bad Boy sounded like Yoda. Safe to be outdoors, it is not. “Excuse me. You left. What was I supposed to do? Sit and wait in the library until you decided to come back? It was obvious you were angry and didn’t want to talk. I mean…you did storm out of the library like a man on fire.”

  He gaped at me like I’d grown another head. “I didn’t leave. I just needed a few moments to myself. I’m not mad at you either. It’s just that damn, fucking legend…I…ugh!”

  The angrier he became, the more pronounced his accent grew. When he spoke the word “not” it sounded like “no.” I had a thing for Irish and Scottish accents, and his was like liquid sex cascading over every inch of my body.

  I stepped forward and raised my arm, wanting desperately to comfort him with my touch.

  He shrank away, leaving me with an overwhelming sense of rejection.

  My arm felt like it weighed ten tons as it fell to my side. “Fine then,” I said while burning him with a hot stare. “I won’t touch you. I only wanted to comfort you. My mistake…won’t happen again.” I bit the inside of my cheek and turned my back to him, fighting the urge to do something stupid like slap him. It was easier to let my anger take over than to admit I was hurting because he didn’t want me near him. I was done making a fool of myself. “I am so out of here.”

  “Ryann, stop!”

  Curse my wretched body. My legs stopped moving, my feet frozen in place by his words. I wanted to run. I wanted to stay. I wanted to scream. Mostly I just wanted to know what the hell was going on.

  Why was I so freakishly drawn to him? I hardly knew him. The mix of emotions I felt were too much, an overload. Hot traitor tears welled in my eyes, spilling down my cheeks. I didn’t turn to face him, but I didn’t walk away either. There was no way I’d let him see me cry. I’d never give him that satisfaction.

  In an instant, he stood behind me. My body jumped as warm breath wafted across my ear and down my neck. “I want you to touch me.”

  His close proximity, combined with the delicious minty scent of his warm breath, sent a fevered chill over my skin. I spun on my heels to face him, once again reaching out.

  “You can’t!” he shouted, stepping back. His eyes went wild, the muscles in his neck straining as he cursed to himself.

  I gaped at him, confused. “But you just said—”

  “I said I want you to touch me,” he interrupted, “but that doesn’t mean you can.” He shook his head and paced back and forth, scrubbing at his closely shaven head with his hands.

  “I don’t understand.” It was the understatement of the century. “Why not?”

  “Because…I have feelings for you.” Quinn’s voice broke, sounding as though he were crushed.

  I ran my hand through my hair and took a step forward. “You’re not making any sense.”

  Quinn held up his hands in caution. “Please, just stop and listen.” He grimaced and balled his hands into fists. “Fuck! I’ve gone and made a right hash of it, haven’t I? Goddamned, bloody idiot!”

  I stood closed mouthed, not wanting to further aggravate him, and watched as he paced like a madman. I feared for the concrete if he kept up with the back and forth. He’d dig a hole to China before the night was over.

  Finally, he stopped and pierced me with his eyes. “I am he.”

  My head snapped back. “Huh? You’re who?”

  “The Gancanagh. I am the Gancanagh. The legend is real.”

  His words hung in the air as the world had gone still. Had I heard him right? If my ears were indeed working correctly, then I’d just witnessed Quinn admit he was a mythical being. He’d confirmed my suspicions that there was something more to him than met the eye, but a faerie? I was crazy for even thinking it. He was insane for believing it about himself. Hell, we were both cuckoo. Maybe we deserved each other.

  I stood gawking at him for what seemed like an eternity. Speechless for once, I didn’t know what to do.

  Quinn growled in frustration. “Say something!”

  I hesitated for a moment before jutting out my chin and lowering my eyelids. “Prove it.” If he was who he said he was, my little challenge should be small potatoes for him. “This is insane. Faeries aren’t real. Mythical creatures don’t exist. I mean…Seriously? You really expect me to believe you’re a faerie?”

  My head was screaming at me to run, to get away from the crazy man who thought he was a mythical being. My heart? Yeah, it had other ideas. An intense ache tore through my chest as I chanted over and over to myself. Please be real. Please be real. Please, please, please be real.

  Quinn hesitated for a moment, opening his mouth to speak and then closing it again moments later. He scanned the area, shook his head, and frowned. “Too many people. Follow me.”

  My mouth felt dry as I trailed him to a more secluded area behind the library, free of curious onlookers and random gawkers. What the hell was he going to do? Perform parlor tricks? Uncertainty became my new best friend, and I didn’t like it.

  He stopped in the center of a small, bench-lined clearing and turned. I watched in awe as he broke into a glorious smile. “Now you see me.” He vanished into thin air. “Now you don’t.”

  “Holy shit!” I picked my jaw off the ground and spun around, searching for him while my mind tried to come up with some sort of rational explanation for what I just saw.

  “Aye, that’s ‘bout right.” I whirled around. He stood a mere two feet from me. With his head lowered, he looked at me through his lashes and pursed his lips. It was evident he was waiting for a response from me.

  Shaking, I opened my mouth only to slam it shut moments lat
er. What do you say when someone disappears before your very eyes?

  He scrubbed at his face and groaned. “Say something. I’m shittin’ bricks here!”

  My voice barely registered above a whisper. “Impossible.”

  “Impossible? Maybe. But very true, nonetheless.” He evaporated before my eyes again and reappeared seconds later, standing on a nearby bench.

  My mind spun, and I felt like I was trapped in some kind of bizarre sci-fi reality show. Was I being punked? “Amazing! How are you doing that? Is it like time travel?” My mind couldn’t wrap itself around what I’d witnessed.

  “No, I’m not traveling through time. I wish.” He let out a nervous laugh. “If I could travel through time, I’d go back and stop myself from trying to seduce the queen, and prevent this wretched curse. No…I merely have the ability to render myself invisible.”

  Merely? He spoke of his mind-blowing ability as if it were no big deal, like rolling your tongue or snapping your fingers.

  “Is there anything else?” I asked, unsure of how much more my mind could absorb.

  A priceless, shit-eating grin lit up his face, and for a split second, the sadness behind his eyes dimmed. It was like an enormous weight had been lifted from him, and his newfound ability to share with me set him free. After a quick scan to ensure we were alone, Quinn hopped off of the bench, and picked it up with his left hand, raising it high above his head as if it weighed no more than a piece of paper.

  The loud clanking noise filling the air? Yeah, that was my jaw hitting the floor again. The solid steel bench had been anchored to the ground.

  Quinn smiled at my reaction. “I’ve got a fair bit of strength.” After placing the bench back where it belonged, he appeared in front of me, moving so quickly all my eyes registered was a faint blur. He stared down at me and took off again toward the center of the lawn area at light speed.

  I shook my head, desperately trying to come to terms with what I knew was possible, and what I was seeing play out in front of me. Quinn had mad super powers. “Oh. My. God.”

  In a flash, he stood a few feet in front of me again, as if by magic. “Nope, not God. Just a horny faerie.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

  I sucked in a breath. “You heard me? I barely whispered and you were yards away.”

  “Aye,” he said, pointing to his ears. “Told ye. I’ve got good hearing.”

  Was there no end to his abilities? I’d lost my mind. There was no other explanation. This couldn’t be real. I’d had an aneurism or something. I was trapped in a dream, and I just wasn’t waking up.

  Did I really want to, though? Here was this incredible being, standing a scant two feet away, who admitted he harbored feelings for me. No. I’d happily reside in the Land-of-the-Loonies if it allowed me to be with Quinn.

  I held up my hand while I struggled to pull my thoughts together. “Let me get this straight. You have the power of invisibility. You’ve got mad strength, super speed, and have crazy good hearing?”

  He laughed, and the musical sound of it sent my heart flying. “Among other things, but yes, that about sums it up.”

  I swallowed hard. “Other…things?” What else could there be? X-ray vision? Mind reading abilities? Only one way to find out. With my mouth clamped shut, I focused on his godlike features and sent him a wordless proposition. I want your body like a fat kid wants chocolate cake. Kiss me.

  Silence filled the air for a moment as I repeated my silent plea. I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. Could he read my mind?

  Quinn did a double take and scratched his head. “Are ye all right, lass? You look a bit…hell, I hate to even say it…constipated.”

  I groaned and buried my face in my hands. Okay, so he wasn’t a mind reader, but now he was under the impression I suffered from irritable bowel syndrome.

  Smooth move, ex-lax!

  I shook my head and waved him off. “I’m fine. Sorry. Please continue on with your laundry list of super powers.”

  He raised his eyebrows and grinned, but there was something else hiding behind his chipper façade: relief. He shook his head. “I cannot tell you, lass, how good it feels to finally be able to share myself with someone. Let’s see…I’m pretty skilled in the art of seduction, and I’m fairly persuasive. I can also remove all traces of me from your memory if I wanted to.” His voice was flat as he spoke these last words, his smile fading into a somber frown.

  A shudder ran through my frame at the idea of not being able to remember him. The very thought of a world without Quinn was inconceivable to me, and I instinctively recoiled from it.

  Desperate to steer the conversation on to less painful things, I reminded him of a power I’d witnessed firsthand. “There’s also your love touch.”

  The mention of his “love touch” elicited another smile, and I was thankful I could brighten his mood so easily.

  “Yes, there is that as well.”

  “Is it really addictive? Your touch, that is?” I thought back to the first time I’d met him at the bar and the sensation that coursed through my veins when our skin came into contact. His touch was complete, sensual bliss. My circulatory system kicked into overdrive at the memory of it, and I tried my best to calm down. Could he hear my heart racing?

  My answer came with a wide, knowing grin. I couldn’t keep anything hidden from him.

  So not fair!

  “It depends,” he said.

  I crossed my arms and stepped back, staring at him with my jaw tight. I expected a better answer.

  He inhaled deep and stared at me with a look that clearly said he didn’t want to answer my question. “Just touching you won’t bring about the madness. You’d only lose your mind if I were to shag you.”

  “Shag me?” I said, slightly taken aback. Were we trapped in a Mike Myers film and I didn’t know it?

  “Sorry, a ghrá,” he said, treating me to an eye roll. “Make love. Is that more to your liking?”

  I flushed and looked down, unsure of how to answer him. Changing the subject seemed like a better idea. I shoved my thumbs into the back pockets of my jeans and bit my lip. “What is that you keep calling me? Do I even want to know? Is it Irish slang for dipshit?”

  His laugh was deep and rich and rang out loud.

  I gave him my best squinty-eyed glare and crossed my arms with a huff.

  “Silly girl. A ghrá means ‘my love’ in Gaelic. It’s a pet name often used in the old language.”

  “Oh.” I bit my lip harder and turned away. Heat engulfed my cheeks, turning them a bright neon red. Maybe he was telling the truth when he said he had feelings for me. Why else would he refer to me as his love? Or maybe he had pet names for all of his conquests, and I was indeed being a total nub. Unsure of how to respond to his new name for me, I focused on my previous question.

  “So, the women you have…” I hated to even speak the words. “…dealings with. They only lose themselves to madness if they sleep with you. Is that right?”

  “Aye,” he huffed.

  “And those two chippies I saw you with at the bar…you slept with them and then erased their memories of it, didn’t you?”

  He gave a single nod. He wore a grim expression, his jaw rigid, his lips drawn into a thin line.

  My stomach rolled as I conjured an image of him in the club, cradling their faces in his large hands, staring deep into their eyes. I’d witnessed him scrubbing those women’s memories. I felt a little sick and a whole lot angry. But beneath all that anger, I pitied him. I felt sorry for the women, of course, but I also felt compassion for Quinn. True, his curse forced him to do deplorable things, sleep with women and then wipe away their memories or leave them to waste away, crazy. But it also left him completely and utterly alone. He’d never experienced a real relationship or felt the glory of true love. How could he? His touch brought about a false reaction, an illusion. How would he ever know if someone’s feelings for him were real? I suddenly understood his earlier meltdown.

  Quinn stood s
ilent, no doubt trying to gauge my reaction. I ran the gamut of emotions from anger to pity to compassion for his horrible plight. He waited patiently while I made sense of what I was feeling, and allowed me to work through the mountain of information he’d dumped at my feet.

  “Is that why you won’t let me touch you?” I asked in a soft voice as tears welled in my eyes. I hated how I wore my heart on my sleeve. My body never let me hide my emotions, no matter how hard I tried.

  He gave a single nod. “Aye, you’re different from the others. Different from anyone I’ve ever come across. Women, they fall all over me, throw themselves at me without a second thought.” He shook his head as he spoke. “Not you. You were so full of piss and vinegar the first time I met you. Practically radiating spunk and fire, and that was even after I touched you. I found myself wanting to talk to you, to get to know you. I can’t do that if I touch you. The fucking curse won’t let me. I want to keep whatever is between us real. Can you not understand that?”

  It felt like all the air had been sucked from the universe. His words left me breathless and dizzy. He wanted to explore what lay between us as much as I did. I looked up at him, unable to stop smiling, and swiped at the warm tear sliding down my cheek. “Yes. Yes, I can understand that,” I whispered.

  Quinn closed the gap between us in a few long strides and stood dangerously close to me. So close, in fact, I felt his warm breath caressing my skin. It was intoxicating. He raised his hand so it was mere inches from my head, and slowly ran it through the air from my hairline to my cheek as he would if he were able to touch me.

  His haunted, beautiful eyes bore into my own with an intensity that touched my very soul. “Don’t cry, a ghrá.”

  My stomach growled a loud gurgle in response. The intensity of our little moment flew out the window as we both laughed.

  “Hungry, are we?”

  I thought back to the pitiful handful of grapes I’d had for lunch. Hell, yes, I was hungry. “Starving actually. I haven’t eaten since noon.” My tummy rumbled again in agreement.

  “Aye, me as well. I could eat a baby’s arse through the bars of a cot!”