Kiss of the Goblin Prince

by Shona Husk

Then he was next to her, on his knees. He traced her cheek. “I want to kiss you again. I’ve been thinking of nothing else.” His finger touched her lip, sending shivers down her spine.

  The room spun back in a storm of noise and color. She couldn’t breathe as longing burst through her carefully placed walls, and all the reasons why she should say no were washed away as one word left her lips.

  “Yes.”

  Chapter 15

  Amanda leaned down. His fingers pushed into her hair, drawing her closer. Their lips met. A touch. A taste. A tentative caress. Her eyes closed as she wished he’d continue. Her hand moved over his chest, his neck, his jaw. Stubble grazed her fingers, burning nerves as only a man could do. His tongue traced the shape of her lower lip. She tilted her head and opened her mouth anticipating more, needing more.

  When the welcome invasion of his tongue didn’t happen, she went after what she wanted. She sought him out, his mouth warm from the tea. Their tongues connected and the moment shattered like crystal.

  Dai pulled back, smile gone, guard up.

  People around them catcalled.

  Her breath returned, adding oxygen to the fire that was consuming her insides and creeping up her cheeks. So many saw such a private moment.

  Dai looked over his shoulder at the grinning onlookers. He got to his feet as the color drained from his face. He was going to flee. She wasn’t going to let him; she wasn’t going to lose him to a past she didn’t understand. She grabbed her bag and his hand.

  He pulled her out the door, dragging her in his attempt to escape, but not trying to escape her. Around the corner he stopped and spun her against the wall. The bricks were cold against her back, but he was warm as his body melded to hers. Every inhalation pressed them closer. Their hands still locked together against the limestone wall.

  “What happened?”

  “I didn’t want an audience.”

  She caught the edge of the lie but let it pass. “Then kiss me again.”

  Like they were the only two people in the world. She couldn’t escape her past any more than Dai could. But she had to move forward.

  She relinquished control of the kiss and let him draw her into something slow that stole her breath. Her eyes closed as she sank deeper under his spell. His tongue darted over her lip and she let him in, moaning softly as his hips pressed against hers with a promise that couldn’t be fulfilled.

  She wanted him. It felt like she’d been waiting for him to wake her up and make her feel alive again. She forced herself to breathe. All the air smelled like him. Male, and heady. Body to body she couldn’t escape and didn’t want to. He placed a final kiss on her lips and drew back a fraction.

  His eyes were dark but not with shadows. And his lips curved in a way that suggested he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  Yet they were in the open where nothing more could happen.

  “You could’ve invited me to your place.” Her words were more breathy than she’d expected.

  “I could’ve. Would you have come?”

  She glanced away. “No.”

  Because she didn’t trust herself to behave around him. Maybe that was the point. She shouldn’t have to worry about behaving, only giving in and enjoying herself. And when it ended and she got hurt? What then? She pushed aside the voice of doubt she’d listened to for far too long. Life was too short to be afraid. Love was too precious to turn her back on it.

  “Then I’m glad I didn’t.” And yet every part of him indicated otherwise. If they were alone there would be less clothing, and much less talking.

  She watched him from beneath her lashes. “Are you going to let me go?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  She shook her head. But she couldn’t spend the day making out with him. She had other responsibilities. “I can’t stay. I have to pick Brigit up from school.”

  “I know.” He swallowed and his fingers slid away from hers. “You’re taking her to the healer today?”

  “Yes.” She smoothed her hair. Her lips were sensitized from being crushed for the first time in too long and her skin ached from the loss of contact.

  He frowned.

  “What? I thought you believed in this stuff?”

  “Oh, I do. But that doesn’t mean she’s legitimate. Just be careful.”

  Amanda paused. “I always am.” Like she’d do anything to put Brigit at risk. The shadows on the side of the building crept into her blood and made her shiver. “She was recommended to me.”

  He stepped back. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

  “No. I asked for your opinion. And I am cautious. If it doesn’t feel right, we’ll leave.” She smiled at him, but the mood of the afternoon had shifted to something more serious. “You’re actually worried.”

  He grimaced and looked out over the beach. “My understanding of healing is limited but I know it’s complex. Plus magic isn’t always predictable.”

  Amanda nodded. Her hope that it would be the cure diminished as he voiced every fear she had tried not to acknowledge.

  “How dangerous is it?”

  “I wish I could tell you, but my focus was curses and other magical rites.”

  She laughed. “Do you know how silly this conversation sounds?”

  He raised one eyebrow. “Just listen to Brigit; if she doesn’t like the way the magic feels to her—”

  “I know.” She ran her hand up his chest. She hadn’t imagined the hard planes of muscle the other night. What did he do in his spare time? She kissed his cheek, skin to skin for a moment longer than needed. His hand slid over her waist, but what she wanted was his hands against her flesh. He turned his head to catch her lips in another slow kiss. Her insides were molten with a need that would have to keep for another time. “Thank you for the coffee…and the warning.”

  ***

  Dai walked past the nondescript building three times in his search for Birch. The only reason he kept coming back was because the building was too perfect. The magic was so tight there was barely a ripple of energy in the fabric. And that was the only clue. No other building had so few disturbances. Just existing caused connection and webs to form. Birch’s building appeared in his sight as if it had been scrubbed clean. He shook his head with amazement. That was powerful magic, but with one flaw. It lacked camouflage. But then the average human wasn’t able to see magic…or the lack of magic.

  As he approached the double glass doors, the hairs along his arms spiked. A strong urge to turn away followed. He ignored it and his stomach curled up and lodged in the back of his throat. The wards were getting harder to ignore with each step. He put his hand out and pushed through air that thickened like concrete. The concentric circles on his back spun up ready to deflect any magical strike. Then the door opened with a hiss of air and the resistance vanished.

  He let out the breath he hadn’t noticed holding. While he was tempted to look behind him and see what he’d passed through he didn’t. He kept his eyes in front like he had every right to be there and hadn’t forced his way past the locks designed to keep humans away. All that and he was only five minutes late.

  A security guard with all the charm of a pit bull and the grace of a Rottweiler stopped him two paces inside the door by planting one giant hand on his chest.

  “I was watching you.” The guard’s nostrils flared and twitched. His eyes narrowed. “You think you’re something special, getting in here?”

  Dai tensed. The guard was the type of man who liked to abuse the little power he had. He knew the type. He maintained eye contact and didn’t move, even though he wanted to rip the creature’s hand off. The guard had no right to touch him. “Do you always treat clients like chew toys?”

  Claws pricked through his shirt. He wanted to glance down but didn’t. That would be a sign of weakness and he’d end up flat on his back with a dog on his chest. The guard curled his lip and bared a lengthening fang. At the edge of his hearing there was a growl so faint it could be mistaken for traffic.

  �
�Who are you?”

  “Dai King.” His name was catching less in his throat.

  The guard removed his paw and wiped it on his pants like being cursed was as contagious as the common cold.

  “The boss is expecting you. You’re late.”

  No kidding.

  “Took me a while to find the place.” Dai smiled and hoped it looked cold and threatening, as if he could turn the oversized humanoid guard dog into a pet rock if he wished. How much did they know about him?

  The guard stepped back. “Up the stairs, second door on the left. Don’t get lost,” he said with a toothy grin that was anything but friendly.

  Dai walked past and resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder. The guard wasn’t as human as he looked, but what did he expect from a bank that dealt only in special cases? Not everyone on the globe was as human as the humans thought, and not every fairy tale monster was pretend. There was a grain of truth in many of the stories people told, no matter how hard they tried to forget it.

  He shook off the prickling sense of unease that was never present when he’d made deposits as a goblin. He felt like he was intruding, like even the air was trying to push him out as he climbed the stairs. His skin pulled tight. The tattoo on his lower back spun without raising any magic. It had protected him from the druid, but not the Shadowlands magic, and not his own nightmares. In here it was useless. He was defenseless.

  At the top of the stairs he paused. There were no doors, only a corridor that stretched on as far as he could see. More magic and tests. His lips thinned. Once again the acolyte searching for the truth and the reward of knowledge.

  Fine. He could play their game. It wasn’t a hard one.

  The door was where he wanted it to be.

  He took several paces down the corridor. This time he did check behind him; as expected the stairs had vanished and he was in a never-ending corridor. Very unimaginative.

  He closed his eyes and steadied his heart. He was where he was supposed to be. Then he knocked on the wall three times. When he opened his eyes there was a door and a handle. Before he could turn the knob the door swung open. The man, if it was a man, in the room was five feet tall in his well-heeled boots.

  “Mr. King, welcome to Birch.” He stuck out his hand for Dai to shake.

  Vexion’s hand was cold, uncomfortably so, against his flesh. Like gripping ice. His vision slipped and in the weave of Vexion’s body he caught a glimpse of a tail that snapped like a whip. Dai blinked and it was gone.

  “Come, sit down and we’ll talk about your special cassse.” This hiss slid down Dai’s spine like a handful of snow.

  “My books.”

  “Yesss, yesss, the booksss.”

  They sat opposite each other at a desk made of wood so dark and polished it shimmered red over black like hot coals. Like coals, it was hot to touch. Was Vexion some kind of reptile that needed the heat? Dai kept his hands away from the wood and folded them in his lap as if he had all the time in the world to wait.

  Vexion rested his forearms on the surface of the desk. He shivered and his eyes widened in pleasure. “I’m impressed you found usss.”

  “You didn’t make it easy.”

  Vexion’s lips thinned. “We spent a lot of time debating what to do with you. Be grateful you were allowed to live. Asss for your booksss…we can’t return them.” Vexion gave a little shrug.

  Dai put his hands flat on the table. The skin on his palms began to heat. He forced cold through his hands as if he could will the wood to cool. “I need my books.”

  Vexion tilted his head as if he were appraising dinner. “We let you live. It wasn’t an easy, or unanimousss decision. This world hasn’t seen the likesss of you since Merlin. The booksss you collected are best locked away.”

  While his palms grew hot, they didn’t burn. “I’m not doing this for myself. There is information I need.” Important information if he was going to be able to save Brigit’s life and heal the damage he’d done to his sister so long ago.

  Vexion dropped his gaze to the wood and then glanced back at Dai. “The fabric of society isss at risk.”

  “A child will die.” And Amanda would break apart. He didn’t want to see her hurt.

  “People die. You know that.”

  “She is dying because of me.”

  “Not my problem.” Vexion curled his lips. “You’re chilling my desk.”

  Dai let thoughts of a bitter Welsh winter flow through his fingers. “Not my problem.”

  Vexion chuckled like this was a game. “You aren’t what I expected, mage.”

  “Sorry to disappoint. I need access to the scroll on healing—you know the one; it’s made of skin and can repair itself.”

  “Yesss, but do you know why it repairsss itself?” Vexion said with a grin that was anything but friendly.

  Dai blinked. He didn’t. Damn it. He was about to fail. Did he try for a plausible lie or admit defeat? He hadn’t expected to be tested. He eased his hands off the desk and let the heat return.

  “Because it embodies the magic it explains.” He inclined his head in an acknowledgement that he had no idea and would defer to Vexion’s wisdom, if he saw fit to share. Dai waited, not expecting an answer if he was wrong. A test failed was sometimes one that couldn’t be repeated.

  Vexion leaned forward. “Almossst, mage. Almossst. The magic is in the wordsss. The wordsss have power and thusss restore the scroll whenever it isss damaged.”

  That had been his other answer. It was either embodiment or words. There was a third option but that scroll never appeared to be haunted or possessed. The one that bit him had been a nasty, vengeful piece of hex law. That Vexion believed him worthy of knowing the correct answer was a good sign.

  “Thisss world isn’t ready for magic again. Your booksss will be cared for and catalogued. Your donation to our library isss appreciated.” Vexion reached into his jacket. “I’ll write you a check for your trouble.”

  “I don’t want money.” He had enough; the compound interest on what they’d put away made them wealthy enough to buy a small country.

  “Gold?”

  Dai shook his head. “I’ll give you everything I have to read that scroll.”

  “You don’t want to do that. Trust me when I say your soul is just the start. Doesss this child mean that much to you?”

  Amanda flickered in his mind. She would be fine without him, and with Brigit healed she would be happy. He would have righted his past and be free to move on in his next life. “Yes.”

  Roan was going to kill him if Vexion didn’t first.

  Vexion cocked his head at an angle too crooked for him to be anything other than not human. “You are no use dead, mage.” He stood up. “The decision has been made. I hope you and your brother found our service useful, but our relationship isss at an end.”

  “Wait.” He’d failed Brigit and he didn’t even know what he’d done wrong. He’d been willing to give everything to save her and it wasn’t enough. “How do I tell this child she will die?”

  “You don’t. If you heal her, then where will you stop? One, one hundred, one thousand? You could bring down religion.” Vexion opened the door. “I wish you well. Next time you come here, you will not be allowed entry.”

  The idea that he would bring down the world for his own gain was laughable.

  “Who is making these decisions?” Who was deciding whether he should live or die, or get his books? He tried to pull together some magic but grabbed nothing. He’d only been allowed to use a little because Vexion had permitted him. It was a charade. The whole damn place. A test to see what he knew and how he’d react.

  “Good-bye, Mr. King.”

  He put his foot in the door. “Her death is on your hands.”

  “Everyone diesss. Don’t pressss your cassse. You may not be able to live with the outcome.” Vexion gave him a toothless grin.

  A threat coated with honey. They, whoever they were, would kill him for pursuing magic. He stepped back and f
ound himself back on the dusk-cloaked street gazing up at the building. He pressed his teeth together. If his death couldn’t buy her life, what the hell could?

  What was his purpose in living if he could do nothing?

  He thrust his hands into his jacket pockets and started walking. As he did, the cold wind lost its sting. He wasn’t walking anywhere in particular. Nothing waited for him at home. His shelves were bare. The knowledge in his head wasn’t enough to heal Mave—Brigit.

  Did it matter how Brigit got healed as long as she got healed?

  No. Maybe there was nothing he could do and that was the point. He had to let the past be the past and move on. Behind him the bones in his back rattled in the breeze, a constant reminder of the past still casting a shadow on his life and blocking out the sun. He’d seen the specter of Claudius disintegrate, so why was he still held by the bonds of Rome? Why didn’t they release him? He trudged on waiting for a solution or an idea to appear.

  Amanda’s words formed in his mind. Forgiving is about freeing yourself. Until you do he still holds the power.

  He stopped and looked up from the pavement. In front of him a church loomed, the crucifix black against the darkening winter sky. In a supposedly non-magical time there were traces everywhere. People’s faith and hope and fear took shape and form.

  Magic was familiar and safe. He’d lost himself in its lure for so many years. Even then he was deaf to the teachings of the wise men who’d warned him about how holding onto the bitterness poisoned his heart.

  He could blame Claudius for many things he didn’t want to remember, but the one that hurt the most was at his feet. He’d made the choice that now weakened Brigit. It was his hand that held the sword. Claudius gave him a choice and he fell into the trap without touching the sides or stopping to question.

  His hate and fear never let him see the other option. He could have let Mave live. That was on him, not Claudius, not the druid’s curse. That choice was still creating ripples of anguish and doing damage he couldn’t undo.

  His feet moved up the path toward the church. Inside it was silent. Whispers left traces on the air like incense. Here was the home of the most powerful God that lived—for the moment. Feeding on people’s will He had a life of his own, sustained by prayer. Like all gods He would eventually fade when people’s beliefs changed and a new god would rise to power. This God had been a fledgling power when Dai was born. Could He help now?