Puca

by Penny Ash

  “Emma, girl, it’s sorry I am,” he said softly.

  She turned to face him. “Oh, love, it’s not you and nothing you’ve done,” she said, slipping her arms around his waist and laying her head on his shoulder.

  Kian gathered her close, burying his face in her hair and holding her tightly. His insides turned to liquid, heat shivers rushing through him. His heart was pounding so hard he thought it might leap from his chest. He had never felt this complete in all his seven hundred-plus years.

  Emma stepped back and looked into his eyes.

  “And what are you doing here?”

  “Ah, well, and it’s a good thing I am here, else that man would have hurt you,” Kian said, dodging the question and quickly changing the subject. “Who was he?”

  “That was Brian. And he wouldn’t have hurt me,”

  Emma said.

  “Oh? And was that not the sound of him striking you that I heard, then?” Kian asked.

  “Kian, I can take care of myself.”

  “Mm, so you’ve told me. Allow me to think that I can take care of you just a mite better, my poppet,” he said softly and pulled her close again, nuzzling her neck.

  Emma pushed him back. “How did you get here?”

  “I bought an airplane ticket and rode here in the most unpleasant conveyance man has yet devised,”

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  he said, exasperated.

  “But how did you pay for it?” Her question was tinged with worry.

  “Pay?” Kian put on his best innocent expression.

  Emma gave him a skeptical look. “Never mind, I don’t think I want to know.”

  He smiled. “And is there anything in this fine home that I could be eating?”

  “The kitchen is through there,” Emma laughed.

  His heart eased. If she could still laugh freely, then things could not be so bad after all. He wandered off in search of food.

  Kian had his head stuck in Emma’s refrigerator, searching for something to eat when there was a loud knocking at the door. He jumped, banging his head on shelf and swore vilely, slamming the refrigerator door and striding into the living room, rubbing his head. If that weasel Brian had come back, he would tear the bastard apart. He stopped when he heard a female voice.

  Emma smiled and shook her head at the swearing, and went to the door. She opened the door and found her friend Molly there. Molly smiled and handed Emma a large package. “Your mail,” Molly said cheerfully as she stepped inside.

  “Thanks.” Emma took the box and followed Molly into the living room.

  Molly saw Kian and stopped abruptly. She looked him over and then turned to Emma. “Who’s your friend?”

  Emma smiled and looked at Kian fondly. “Molly, 154

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  this is Kian.”

  Kian smiled and stepped forward, holding out his hands to take Molly’s. “Ah, it’s pleased I am to be meeting one of Emma’s friends.”

  Molly smiled and let Kian take her hands. Her eyebrows rose into her hairline when he brought them to his lips and placed a soft kiss there. She looked at Emma. “Is he always this full of it?” She asked.

  “He has his moments,” Emma said with a twinkle in her eye.

  “It’s wounded I am,” Kian said dramatically, clutching his chest.

  “Oh, yeah, I forgot,” Molly said suddenly. She turned and hurried out to her car. Emma and Kian followed mystified.

  They watched as Molly wrestled something out of the back of her little blue hatchback. When Emma recognized the object, she covered her mouth with her hands and blinked back tears. Kian looked at her, concerned, and pulled her into his arms.

  “What is it, love?” he asked quietly.

  “My painting. Oh, Kian, it’s my painting.” Emma wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. She took the paper-wrapped painting from Molly and hurried inside. Kian watched her go and then looked at Molly.

  “Her painting?” He asked.

  “That slime Brian donated it to charity. I convinced them to sell it to me.” Molly looked Kian over speculatively.

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  “Ah, the weasel,” Kian said. “He needs to be shown the error of his ways.”

  A huge smile lit up Molly’s face. Kian smiled back at her. They walked back into the house together.

  Emma had unwrapped the oil painting and was looking at it, wiping tears from her eyes when they walked in.

  Kian gazed at the portrait of Miss Chloe with a lump in his throat. He swallowed hard and sighed.

  “Tis a fine likeness, Emma, very fine indeed,” he said.

  He quickly left the room, heading down the hall and into the first room he came to, tears streaming down his face.

  “Is something wrong?” Molly asked.

  “He just needs a few minutes, he knew Aunt Chloe pretty well. He worked for her for years,” Emma said.

  “Oh,” Molly said.

  “In fact, he’s the handyman I told you about. The one I had the crush on when I was sixteen.”

  “How old was he when you had the crush on him, seventeen?”

  “No, he’s always looked like that. He’s, um, special,” Emma said carefully.

  “Special? As in?” Molly asked.

  “As in he isn’t human.”

  “No? Looks pretty human to me,” Molly said skeptically.

  Emma watched the Puca coming back down the hall and smiled. He walked up to Molly and nudged her hand, then looked up at her and barked.

  “What the... When did you get a dog?” Molly 156

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  asked.

  “That’s Kian,” Emma said.

  Molly looked at the wolfhound and back at Emma.

  “Okay, you’re weirding me out, Emma.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Uh, huh,” Molly said, unconvinced. She looked at the dog that was looking at her with sparkling eyes.

  Suddenly, he wavered like a TV picture going fuzzy.

  He shimmered and the next thing she knew, Kian was standing there smiling at her. Molly’s mouth dropped open.

  “Whoa,” Molly said. “Um, right, so, who’s up for getting some dinner?”

  Kian glanced at Emma and grinned. “She’s taking it quite well,” he said.

  “I knew she would,” Emma said.

  “Yeah, well, I’m in the mood for Chinese, how about you two?” Molly said, giving Emma a dirty look.

  “You know I love Chinese. Kian?” Emma asked.

  “Ah, I’ve never had the pleasure,” he said uncertainly.

  “Good, let’s go,” Molly said. She headed for her car.

  They sat at a small table in the corner near the kitchen doors in the dimly lit restaurant. Kian listened to the ladies talk, enjoying the way Molly kept Emma laughing. Smiling at one of Molly’s stories about her family, he glanced up and his smile faded.

  “Kian? What is it?” Emma asked, concerned. She turned her head and saw Brian being seated at a table 157

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  near the tiny restaurant’s picture window. He was with a tall redhead she’d never seen before.

  “I do not like that man. I would bite him, but it would probably be giving me a pox of some kind,” he said with a grimace.

  “We really need to get him for that dirty trick with Emma’s painting,” Molly said. She looked at Kian with a gleam of speculation in her eyes. “What exactly can you do?”

  “Oh, many things. I am a Puca,” Kian smiled sweetly.

  “It should be something supremely embarrassing,”

  Molly said her gaze never leaving Kian’s.

  “You two better not do anything, Brian can be very vindictive,” Emma said worriedly.

  “Emma my love, don’t be worrying, I have had many years experience. I could no more pass up a chance to play a prank than you could give up men,”

  he smiled and winked at her.

  Emma looked at him, her eyebrows raised. “Well
then, I guess you better not get caught then, had you, Muffin?” She winked at him.

  He grinned. His heart soared with her use of the online nickname. She knew, and it filled him with joy.

  “I’ll be back directly, love,” he said as he got up.

  He smiled like the cat who ate the canary, smugly pleased with himself and his brilliant idea.

  The ladies watched him walk toward the door.

  Suddenly he faded into a fine puff of smoke. Emma and Molly looked at each other, wide-eyed.

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  * * * * * *

  Kian waited for the couple paying their bill to open the door, then flowed outside with them. He spotted the silver vehicle that had been parked in Emma’s driveway and shimmered into his human form. He contemplated his options as he walked toward the little silver BMW convertible. Walking around the car, he said a few singsong words and spit. Grinning, he turned and walked back to the restaurant.

  He stepped back inside and waved to Emma. As he had hoped Brian saw him. Sitting down at their table, he took Emma’s hand and kissed it, watching Brian glaring at them from the corner of his eye. “Smile, my love, everything has been taken care of,” he said.

  They finished their dinner and walked out into the cool night air. Kian slipped an arm around each lady and lifted them off the ground, spinning them around with a laugh.

  “What did you do?” Emma asked when he had put them down again.

  “The weasel is fond of his wee little car, is he not?”

  Kian asked with a hint of mischief in his voice.

  Molly laughed.

  Emma looked askance at her lover and her friend.

  “You’re both crazy.”

  “Aye, crazy enough to love a human lady,” Kian grinned and kissed her soundly.

  They got into Molly’s car and she pulled out into the parking lot. They stopped as Brian and his date got into his BMW. The lights came on as Brian started 159

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  the car. There was a loud ripping sound of flatulence, followed by several shorter farting sounds. Several people leaving the restaurant stopped in shock, bursting into laughter. Brian’s date all but leapt out of the car, holding her hand over her nose and mouth.

  They watched Brian follow her and catch her arm.

  They argued, arms waving wildly, and the girl stomped off toward the restaurant door. Brian got into his car and gunned the motor, letting loose several more unfortunate sounds. He pulled out and turned in front of them.

  Molly leaned forward until her head rested on the steering wheel, laughing hysterically.

  Brian drove off slowly, the wheels of his prized car wobbling like those on a clown car and bouncing up and down.

  Emma snorted and gasped for air, she was laughing so hard.

  Kian grinned.

  * * * * * *

  Molly waved as she drove off, and Kian followed Emma inside. He slid his arms around her waist and kissed the side of her neck. “I like your friend, Emma,” he whispered.

  Emma turned in his arms to face him. She brushed her fingers over his cheeks and threaded them through his silky hair. “I love you,” she said, “I just wanted you to know that.”

  His breath caught and he blinked back the tears 160

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  that threatened. “Oh, Emma, and I have loved you since the very first day when you walked up the steps and into my life.”

  She smiled and led him down the hall to her bedroom. “Do you realize that this is the very first time we’ve ever been truly alone?”

  “So it is,” he said, smiling.

  “We don’t have to hold back,” she whispered.

  “Aye,” he said, reaching for her. He pulled her into his arms and treated her to a kiss that turned her to warm liquid inside. His heat melted her bones.

  “Make me scream, Kian,” she said when he drew away, her voice gone hoarse. “No one has ever managed that.”

  “Anything you wish, love, anything at all,” he said lifting her into his arms.

  He said a soft word and laid her on the magically turned back bed. Their clothes disappeared and she laughed breathlessly. Slowly he began to kiss her in trails of fire over her body, giving special attention to each place that the touch of his lips drew a soft gasp.

  His breathing grew faster in time with Emma’s as he moved over her breasts.

  Somehow he knew just where to touch her next, just where to place a kiss. He teased and explored until she could not keep still. Her hands gripped his shoulders and touched him everywhere she could reach. He backed away and smiled when she moaned her disappointment.

  When her breath had calmed he began again. He sat back, pulling her up into his arms. She lay against 161

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  him like a rag doll and slid her hands down his sweat-drenched back.

  “Oh, love, that’s wonderful,” she moaned.

  “Aye, poppet, and it will get better,” he replied, his voice thick with passion.

  He laid her back and took her at last, moving slowly at first, then faster as his control shredded. Her moans sent shockwaves through him and he groaned her name as he shattered. Emma dug her fingers into his back, her moan changing to a hoarse cry as she screamed his name.

  Kian moved off of her and gently gathered her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head and pulled the covers up over them, holding Emma as she drifted off to sleep. One day the bond will be strong enough, he thought with a sigh, strong enough I will be able to sleep in her arms.

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  Chapter Fifteen

  fter three days in Dallas, Kian was happy to be Agetting home. He was tired of eating out, and he had missed his tree house and the forest dreadfully.

  He was a creature of the deep woods and the windy moors, and it had been uncomfortably hot in Texas.

  They left Molly with tearful hugs and an invitation to visit them in a few days when she got her vacation.

  Emma and Molly had spent their time together packing and shipping Emma’s things to the bed and breakfast while he had watched TV during the day and made love to Emma at night.

  Boarding the plane home, he felt the nervousness bubbling up inside himself and reached for Emma’s hand. It never ceased to amaze him how matter-of-fact humans were about flinging themselves into the air and dropping out of the sky hundreds of miles away. He tightened his grip on Emma’s hand, and she squeezed back.

  Emma smiled reassuringly and slipped into the seat by the window. Kian sat down in the seat next to her and leaned over to shut the little window’s plastic shade. “When I came to this land, it was by sea. I do not like this hurtling through the air,” he whispered.

  “It will be over soon, sweetheart,” she whispered back. “You need to read a book or something to keep 163

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  your mind off it.”

  “There’s another way to distract me,” he whispered giving her ear a quick kiss.

  “Oh, really? And what would that be?” She smiled.

  The scream from the engines of the plane rose in pitch as they picked up speed for takeoff.

  “I’ve heard of... Ah, sun and stars, I hate this,” he said quietly through gritted teeth as the plane lifted from the runway.

  “Tell me what you think would distract you,”

  Emma said her voice calm. She squeezed his hand gently.

  “I’m recalling that I read somewhere of the possibility of making love in this unnatural bit of machinery,” he murmured softly.

  “Oh? Tell me more.”

  “I believe the author of the article mentioned the wee little washroom and some of the things that could be done there.”

  “It sounds like this article was a very scholarly work,” she smiled, feeling him begin to relax.

  “Oh, aye, it was, with many instructions and illustrations of techniques to be used,” he said, his voice a shade deeper.

  “And did it also mention how filthy thos
e places are?” She chuckled at his startled look.

  “Filthy?” he asked.

  “Very,” she answered.

  “Eh.” He grimaced.

  Emma kept him distracted until they began to descend for landing. She patted his hand when he 164

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  tensed at the first drop. Kian leaned against her, his forehead resting against her shoulder. Smoothing his silky black hair back, she kissed the top of his head, comforting him through the landing.

  * * * * * *

  When they arrived at the house, Tilly and Pin had prepared a special late dinner for them. Nothing would do when they saw the painting but hanging it in the library right away. A place over the fireplace was prepared, and it was hung with many tears. The two Brownies had loved Great-Aunt Chloe immensely. When they finally went into the kitchen for dinner, they wanted to hear all about the trip.

  Kian sat at the kitchen table, wondering how he had gotten himself into this embarrassing conversation. The story of their revenge on Brian had led to other funny stories, and Emma sat across from him, snickering into her tea while Tilly regaled her with tales of his childhood. And his mother did nothing. He glared at Pin, his cheeks burning.

  “You talk too much, Tilly, so you do. I’m for going to bed,” he said haughtily, standing up.

  “Oh, aye, and then there was the time he was playing with the knitting. I came into the cottage to find the cub well and truly tangled and tied in the wool, lying on his back, he was, with his feet trussed in the air.” Tilly grinned.