by H. D. Gordon
Black Heart rested his hands behind his head. “Thought you said you were going to listen to my troubles.”
The Fae Queen giggled. “Nonsense! I never said that! I said I would help you with your troubles! I made no commitment to listen to them! I would never say such a thing! Silly Michael! Michael is silly!”
He turned his head and gave her a droll look. After a moment, she rolled her eyes and waved a hand, telling him to get on with it. His gaze went skyward again and he took a deep breath, not even knowing where to start. “Not only did I lose the Black Stone, I lost the princess, too. She… escaped with the Stone. I’m sure she’s used it to heal her father of the demon poison by now, and I’m most certainly the most wanted man in all the kingdom.” He paused when Tristell cooed at this and snuggled closer to him. He sighed a little and continued. “But that is hardly the worst part.”
She clapped her hands like a pleased child. “It gets worse? Do tell! Do tell! I bet it has something to do with that brother of yours! Oh! I’m right, aren’t I? Tristell told you not to let him near her! Tristell told you to bring her here! You didn’t listen! See what happens when you don’t listen?”
Anger welled up in him again and he had to clench his fists to keep from snapping at her. Usually her over-excited nature and use of the third person didn’t bother him. Most of the time he even found her otherness charming. At the moment, not so much. It was particularly annoying that it was all coming in the form of “I told you so”. It was hard to wrap his head around, but he knew he’d messed up. He didn’t need his nose rubbed in it.
He ran a hand through his black hair, smoothing it back in its ponytail. His voice was stony when he spoke. “I was wrong about him.”
He formed another fireball in his hand, sat up and launched it at a nearby tree. It crashed, exploded, sizzled and smoked. Beside him she flinched and cursed in that strange Fae language. He was going to have to find another way to expend his rage. Fireballs took the edge off, but too many emotions were boiling inside of him for the release of Magic to help much more than that.
Suddenly, she was on top of him, grinning down at him with that wide, sharp mouth. Her slanted eyes twinkled with mischief, and her head tilted as she studied him. He ran his hands up her legs, slipping his fingers under her silky dress. She leaned down and put her lips by his ear. She spoke softly, just above a whisper, which was a rare thing for her. “That’s exactly your problem,” she said, and paused. “That’s the problem with your kind, actually. Magic users. You all rely so heavily on your spells and castings. It is your greatest weakness… Tell me, Michael, have you ever considered what would happen if that Magic you all love so much suddenly disappeared? Just poof! Gone. How do you think the high and mighty would like to have that security blanket ripped out from underneath them? Thus far you’ve tried to fight Magic with Magic, and how has that worked out for you? What if Magic was suddenly taken out of the equation? Who would have the hardest time dealing with that? The commoners, or the pampered Highborns?”
He was so stunned by this insight that his head felt as though it might literally explode, having just received an overload of very curious information. It was a terrifying thought, to think of not being able to access Magic, as it was something that literally resided in his blood, and the blood of all Sorcerers and Sorceresses. Though there were other pretty major differences between them and humans, such as lifespan and slight physical dissimilarities, Magic was the thing that really separated the two. To think of that going away was… Well, it was unthinkable. It was like asking a Vampire not to drink blood, or a Werewolf not to turn into its Wolf form.
But, she had a point, didn’t she? His kind would be lost without their Magic, and those most greatly affected would be the Highborns. Commoners only learned the most basic of Magic, and most went about their lives using it sparingly and only when necessary. Truth be told, electricity was easier to come by. Their eyes would bulge out of their heads if they knew the royals used Magic for everything from opening doors to teleportation and party tricks. If that was suddenly taken away from them…
He grabbed her wrists, and she sat up and looked at him, giving his neck a small lick before rising. “What are you talking about?” he asked. “Getting rid of Magic forever?” Even saying those words felt like blasphemy, like a half-casted curse.
The Fae Queen gave a tinkling giggle and shook her head, her eyes glittering. She playfully slapped his wide chest. “Of course not, silly! Your kind would be hardly better than humans without their Magic!”
He cringed at this; it was an echo of his thoughts. She smiled down at him and settled herself more comfortably on his lap, making his mind lose track of the conversation for a minute. Sometimes he wondered if that was her intention.
She leaned forward again, her lips returning to his ear. “I’m talking about a temporary disabling of the Magic. Just enough time for a determined person to… Oh, I don’t know, kill a king and a princess and find his way to an empty throne.”
His hold on her wrists tightened, and she sat up again and grinned down at him. “You know of a way to accomplish this, Tris?” he asked. His jade-colored eyes narrowed and he heard her growl lowly in her throat. “This better not be one of your games. Is something like that even possible?”
A small part of him almost wished she would say no; tell him that it really was a joke. It was just so hard to swallow the idea of a Magic-less world for his kind, even if it would be temporary. Then he thought of how the princess had foiled his hard-made plans, about how the royals had let his parents die so many years ago when their world was under attack by the other races. He thought about how he and Charlie had to run from place to place as children, begging and stealing food, never knowing the next time they’d see a warm bed or a hot shower. Two children left to die while the royals had cowered in their castles and used their hoarded Magic to open doors and put on party tricks and protect their precious, Highborn children.
He thought about Charlie. He thought about how Charlie had betrayed him. And that hurt most of all, more than all the hurt he’d ever had in his long, long life. The idea that Charlie would be more loyal to a pretty face and royal position than he was to his own brother, it was almost too much to bear.
And it was all her fault. It had always been her for Charlie, and now Black Heart could not deny it. He hated the princess for stealing his brother from him. He hated her most of all. She already had everything—power, money, the best of Magic—she didn’t need Charlie too. In the grand scheme of things, Charlie had been the only thing Black Heart really had. And Surah Stormsong had stolen that from him. She’d just earned herself the top spot on his hit list, and everyone who’d made that spot on his list would testify to its effectiveness—if the dead could speak.
So when the Fae Queen licked his ear and answered his question, a large grin formed on his lips. She said, “Oh, Michael. My silly, silly Michael. Anything is possible.”
He flipped her onto her back and hiked her dress up, giving her a hard kiss that was half-passion, half-anger. “Then tell me all about it, my love,” he said. “After.”
She giggled as he smothered her in kisses and removed her dress. Her slanted eyes stared at the canopy of colorful trees and chirped words sounded from behind a grin of sharp teeth. “Yes! After! Princesses to kill and kingdoms to steal! After…”
CHAPTER 5
CHARLIE
Charlie seemed to take in her words very slowly, as if he’d known what she’d said was true and had not wanted to admit it to himself. They sat in the cabin—him on the bench, and her on the bed—in uncomfortable silence. He was obviously the short-spoken type, which she usually liked in a man, but found terribly annoying at the moment, and she didn’t trust her voice not to break if she made an attempt at more words.
I can’t let you risk everything for me.
I already have.
It was true. Things had gone too far and there was no turning back. She looked at his face now and saw he k
new it too. He knew it and he looked… guilty for it. Anger boiled up in her then, and she wasn’t sure if it was all for him, or for the universe, but she grabbed hold of it and sank her teeth in. She had always, even in her youth, been a very straight shooter, and things were already messed up enough without him confusing her with his mixed signals. What did he have to feel guilty about? He’d sworn he’d had nothing to do with his brother’s schemes, that he’d just been dragged into a horrible situation, so why the guilt? Why go to the trouble of saving her, of betraying his brother for her, of kissing her as if the world depended on it, just to pull the rug out from under her now? She decided that since things couldn’t get much worse, she wasn’t going to take this from him.
She swung her legs over the bed and stood, leaving her cloak where it lay and the weapons tucked inside it. He looked up as she walked over to him, her boots clicking on the hard floor with each determined step. His eyes narrowed just a touch, making them appear darker than usual as they moved slowly up her, and his jaw clenched. She ignored the way this made her stomach flip and stopped only when she was about a foot away, looking down at him where he sat on the old wooden bench, leaning against the wall.
Charlie tilted his head back and looked up at her. She had to stop a smile from coming to her lips when she saw his hands were clenched into tight fists, because no matter what he said, it was as difficult for him not to touch her as it was for her not to touch him. He could make his mouth tell her to leave, but he couldn’t keep his body from reacting to her. Or at least, she hoped. The thought of having over-estimated his affection was too unpleasant. She waited for a moment to see if he would break, but he held his position and his peace, saying and doing nothing.
Surah had to give him this, he had an incredible poker face and an admirable stubbornness about him.
Or maybe he just needed better motivation.
Before she could lose the nerve, Surah placed her hands on his wide shoulders. She could swear she felt them tense under her fingers, though the expression on his face still hadn’t shifted. A small smile formed on her lips when he didn’t take her hands away, and then she closed the distance and took a seat facing him on his lap. Now she was positive his body tensed, because hers tensed, too.
His hands stayed tucked at his sides, but it was as though she could feel him all around her. His body was strong and warm under her, the clean smell of him filling her senses. Her hand traveled down to his chest, and she could feel his heartbeat there, steady but rapid. Some part of her brain was screaming at her to stop what she was doing, because ladies of her status did not behave in such a way. But it was only a small part. Certainly not big enough to overpower the other part of her, the part that was demanding she stay right where she was, if only to see if his body would betray his true feelings. Somehow, it seemed imminent that she know just what they were.
She watched as his eyes went to her lips and stayed there, and she ran her tongue out and smiled when his gaze all but smoldered. Still, he made no move to touch her. A little uncertainty struck her, but she ignored it and stayed put. She concentrated on the way she felt for him and refused—at least for this moment—to believe her feelings were one-sided.
Gathering her courage around her, she took a deep breath, thinking if what she did next yielded no reaction from him, she would give up and accept that she had misinterpreted things. She leaned in and placed a small kiss on his warm neck… Then another… and another. His reaction now was instantaneous.
His arms came up and encircled her small waist, closing the distance between them, crushing her to him with his strong arms. He buried his face in her hair, pushing it off her neck and making a shiver run from her toes up to the top of her head. She felt his lips skim the tender skin there, felt his warm breath making goose bumps break out all over her. She was aware that her breath was coming in small gasps, but was helpless to do anything to stop it. Her hands found their way into his dark, thick hair, and her fingers held onto it as if she could be ripped away from him at any moment. In reality, she supposed that was so.
But with Charlie so near her, holding her in his arms and inhaling deeply against her neck, making her chest feel as though it were blooming, as if she were filling up from the inside, reality held little meaning. She breathed the scent of him in deeply, which was a mixture of forest and soap. It was strange how quickly a scent could become familiar, how quickly his arms around her had become familiar. Maybe they didn’t know each other’s pasts, maybe they hardly knew each other at all, maybe the stars were aligned against them, but there was one thing for certain amongst the sea of uncertainty she had found herself adrift in.
Their bodies fit well together, and a wise Shaman had once told her that a body is just an outline to the soul.
“What are you doing, Surah?” he asked, his deep voice muffled against her skin, pulsing heat where he touched her, the struggle in it evident even with her blood rushing in her ears.
She gave a raspy laugh, but it was cut short when she felt his warm tongue flick out and graze her skin. His arms tightened almost painfully around her, and it became difficult to breathe, but it was a somehow pleasant sensation, so she didn’t mind. Her hand wrapped around the back of his neck and held his lips against her. He kissed her gently at first, and then between one heartbeat and the next, his lips found hers.
When that happened, all thoughts and reason left Surah’s head; all doubt and fear and suspicion were carried away on the wind. She felt so much passion radiating between the two of them that it was irrelevant that she was a princess and he was a commoner, or that they were defying countless people by being together. It seemed unimportant that their lives were on the line and all the stars were crossed against them. When that happened, when he kissed her that way, all that existed was Charlie. Just Surah and Charlie.
When he pulled back from her, she almost felt like crying out at the loss of him, though she told herself it had more to do with the whole situation, as Surah was not the crying type. Still, it felt like having the covers pulled away on a cold morning, or the fire going out on a cold night. Maybe they weren’t in love yet, but if they spent too much more time together, they would be. She was somehow certain of this, and it was more disconcerting than she wished it would be.
She was falling. Plain and simple.
Without warning, Charlie lifted her up easily and hoisted her over his shoulder, holding her tightly around her thighs and waist. Surah was so caught off guard by this that she couldn’t even think to protest. He carried her over to the bed and set her down gently, sitting down beside her and pulling off her black boots in two swift motions. Her jaw was practically hanging on the mattress as she looked up at him, stunned at what he’d just done. No one had ever been so bold with her as to scoop her up in their arms. Her forwardness with him was one thing, but Charlie Redmine acted as though he either had no idea she was the princess, or didn’t care, and it never failed to surprise her.
One side of his mouth pulled up as he took in her expression, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking and found it amusing. Surah snapped her mouth shut and tried to smooth out her expression, wondering at the way this man was able to make centuries worth of poise break so easily. She could feel her face heating up, surely causing roses to bloom on her porcelain cheeks. She looked down at her hands and shivered when Charlie reached up and brushed a lavender curl behind her ear.
“How long has it been since you slept?” he asked, as if his sudden interruption of their previous activity needed no explanation.
For a moment, she couldn’t find her voice. She could do nothing but sit there and stare at his beautiful face. The fine line of his jaw. The curve of his lips. The heat that radiated from his jeweled eyes. She swallowed and tried not to concentrate on how fast her heart was beating. How long since she’d slept? She couldn’t seem to remember. Night had just fallen when she had gone to the dungeons to see him, and now the light of a new day was out in full force. “A while,” she said.<
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Charlie put his strong hands on the small of her back, sending more heat all the way through to her already burning stomach, and laid her down gently on the pillow. His body was close to hers in several places, and she was hyper-aware of every one of them. She couldn’t help but take note of the hard weight of him as he kissed her forehead and pulled back to look down at her. She was pretty sure her heart was either beating too fast to register, or had stopped altogether.
“Then you should sleep now,” he said. One corner of his mouth pulled up again in a small smile, but it made a big flower bloom in her chest. She didn’t miss that his chest was rising and falling quickly as well. “Well rested heads make better choices,” he added.
Surah pushed her tongue out over her lips, more warmth turning in her when his eyes went down to her mouth. She had not a clue how she was supposed to respond to that. How was it that everything he said either aggravated or confused her, and yet when he spoke she hung from his words the way the moon hangs in the sky? She felt her chest rising and falling but couldn’t seem to get any of the air it was pulling in. “I don’t think I can sleep now,” she managed. She didn’t feel the need to add not after that, because the words seemed to be hanging in the air.
He sat back and rubbed a hand down his jaw, something Surah recognized as a thing he did when he was struggling with something. At least she wasn’t the only one. She wondered more than ever what he was thinking right now. Because if it was anything like she was thinking, they were both in trouble as sure as fish were in water.
When Charlie stood from the bed and crossed the room, leaving her to stare after him, she deflated a little, but part of her was relieved. What would she have done if he had tried something beyond kissing her just then? Pushed him away? She almost laughed out loud at that thought, but caught herself. Who was she kidding?
The worst part about that was, after all the recent happenings, and his oddly standoffish behavior, she wasn’t entirely sure she could trust him. Mostly sure—if his reaction to her just a moment ago had anything to say about it—but not entirely. She supposed it was a good thing he’d stopped it. She didn’t want to act too hasty here, be a victim of what might just be pent up hormones, and do something she would regret for the rest of her life. However long that turned out to be.
