"I'm to kill him if he doesn't adapt."
"There is no choice, Reux."
But Hunter was adapting, he was learning and coping with his new existence.
"I don't think that will come to pass.” But Hunter hadn't had enough time, not yet.
"Aunt, he needs to be around others. He needs...” Reux broke off, clearing his throat. “He needs to experience women ... men. He needs to do this without me there as a distraction. If you allow him to stay, perhaps find someone else...” Catching the look on her face, shame wound through Rex's soul. “Aunt, I can't keep him with me any longer. Maybe later, when he's had time here..."
He could take Hunter out into the world for a few years, get him on his feet, and then perhaps Rex could return to his croft. He'd come back young and with a new name. Perhaps he'd be an artist or a craftsman.
He'd be back to his own life, to his croft and his animals and his daily isolation. He'd be back to watching the sky for falling stars.
Rex glanced over at Brita. She'd slipped into hag mode, where her thoughts were deep and far-seeing. Catching his glance, she slid back into the present.
"You are confused. You don't know if you wish to keep him or give him away. You don't understand your feelings for the angel, and that is dangerous, Reux. He could kill you or he could love you. You were right to finally bring him to me. And you did wait too long.” She looked out into the distance, seeing something that Rex was blind to. “Go join him for your meal. Did you have any plans in the city?"
"I need to purchase supplies. Some herbs for medicines."
"Do what you must and then return to me. I'll have made my decision by then."
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Chapter Five
He was only acting in the best interest of the angel. So why did he feel like shit?
Rex watched as the merchant rolled his purchases into an oilcloth packet. He handed over the coin and nodded, slipping the medicines down into his travel pouch.
Hunter would be treated well while Rex was gone. He would have endless opportunities to learn and grow, to know others. To make love and to fall in love. In the Other Place, there were libraries and instruments for making music. He had space to fly, to practice swordplay or learn a trade. Hunter would never grow bored. Even on the remote croft, he was always learning, always questioning. Surrounded by the many clans of the Sidhe, he would flourish. He'd be safe from the dangers that stalked him here in the Terran existence. If he truly fell, Hunter would be among the Sidhe rather than humans, and they would know what to do.
Rex stood in the tiny, dark herbalist shop, gazing absently at the wares displayed in baskets, hanging from the walls. Hunter enjoyed the fragrance of lavender, and his supply was low. The angel kept strewing it on the floor. He reached up and released a bunch from a hook hanging from the low rafters.
Stupid sentimentality. Especially since Hunter wouldn't be going home with him. He hung it back on the hook. And then he retrieved it and handed another coin to the merchant.
Outside, the sun had slipped away, and a hazy drizzle dampened the uneven streets. Rather than heading back for the alley, Rex walked uphill, back to the Royal Mile. He ignored the crowds and the wagons that choked the narrow road and continued until he came to a pub on a quiet corner. The building was crude and rough, but he knew it well. The owner was a good sort and knew when to leave his customers in peace. Rex suspected that he was something other than human himself, but didn't bother to ask.
Rex settled at a table, a mug of good ale in hand.
Every moment he spent here was a moment away from Hunter. Away from the stricken look he'd see in the angel's eyes when Rex told him that he was leaving. As he brought the tankard to his lips, the pungent fragrance of lavender overcame the fragrance of the ale. The perfume of the plant had settled on the skin of his hands.
"You look to be a million miles away."
He started slightly, looking in surprise at the stranger who stood at the other side of the round wooden table. The man gestured to the empty chair. Rex shrugged and nodded.
"You won't be minding a bit of company, then?"
The man had an open, friendly face; his deep blue eyes sparkled under a fringe of unruly black hair. He had the complexion of the Irish, fine fair skin and blue-black hair. His smile came easy.
"I saw you come out of the herbalist. You a healer, then?"
"No. I sometimes make liniments and such for the old folks in my area. I was just picking up some ingredients."
The other man sipped his ale, giving Rex a thorough going over. “I saw you with a pretty young thing earlier, thought maybe he was your son. But now I don't think so. His hair was ginger, yours is brown."
Suspicion began to creep over Rex. He stared at the other man, trying to see ... to really see. Was he using glamour to hide?
"I'm Patrick. Patrick Keenen. Late of Dublin ... now of wherever the wind blows me.” His rosy lips curled in a smile, a dimple playing at one side.
Rex nodded, declining to offer a hand. “Rex Clark."
"Nice to make your acquaintance then. So anyhow, I'm guessing that young man was your helper. And since you've parted ways, I was hoping maybe you needed an extra hand and a strong back."
He did look a bit down on his luck. His clothing was clean but worn and threadbare. And he looked strong, with broad shoulders and powerful hands. For a moment, Rex considered the offer; he could use help at the croft, but the burden of secrecy was too much.
"My nephew is simply enjoying the sights, he wanted to go down and look at the gardens in the new part of the city.” Over the edge of the tankard, he caught a fleeting glimpse of frustration in the other man's eyes. Or was it despair? These were desperate times in the human world. “I'm sure there are folks looking for day laborers. It's nearly planting season."
"Aye.” Patrick's frustration melted away. “Aye, you're right. Do you have any suggestions?"
"No, I'm sorry. But I saw several good-sized farms on the way into the city. You could try some of those."
Patrick nodded and downed his drink. He tossed off a carefree grin. “I'll take your advice then. Will you be heading away soon? Perhaps I can travel with you? I've little to my name, but I'd like to keep what I've got."
"We're staying with friends tonight, but if you'll meet me here, we'll be leaving at first light. You're welcome to keep us company."
"And I thank you.” Patrick rose, and for some reason, Rex was surprised at Patrick's height. He stood perhaps taller than Hunter. He scooped a pack off the floor, and shouldered it with ease. He pulled a cap onto his head and started for the door.
"Till the morrow then, Mister Clark."
"Tomorrow.” He smiled as the man left. He'd have to think of a lie to tell him about Hunter's absence. But in truth, it would be good to have company on the road.
* * * *
"He's not coming back?"
Hunter sat up straighter, trying to force the sick feeling from the pit of his stomach. “But he didn't say that he was leaving without me.” He rose from the wooden bench, pushing his way past a fall of wisteria blossoms. He stared around, trying to locate the entrance that would return him to the door into that dark Edinburgh alley. That building was no longer to be seen.
"Kokabiel. He didn't know that he wouldn't be coming back right away.” Brita looked unusually grave. “He has every intention of returning, but the time here and the time there flow differently."
"I don't understand."
"I think it best that you stay with us for awhile. Reux agrees. You need to learn how to be with others, to learn how to interact with people you don't know."
He returned to the bench and sat heavily. “Who made this decision?"
"I did. But it was Reux's wish. It was a difficult decision for him to make."
"But you said that he didn't know..."
"He asked me to keep you here for a time. But he intended to come back and explain to you why."
"You did
this to spare him. Because he's your nephew.” He leaned forward, covering his face with his hands. “How long?"
"I don't know. I'll know when it's time."
A cool hand settled on his shoulder, but he didn't look up.
"Kokabiel..."
"Hunter. Rion Hunter. I don't want that name."
"Hunter. This is Carly. We have a cottage for you. I know you're upset, but I do think it's best.” He glanced up and froze.
He'd seen women before but never like this one. Brita was beautiful, but this one exuded something that was alluring and fascinating.
Sex.
Her large dark eyes were upswept at the corners, her plump lips curled in a friendly smile. Masses of lush blonde hair cascaded around her shoulders and down her back. Her body was vividly displayed in the simple gown that she wore.
He looked away quickly lest he shame himself. He didn't want to be pulled from his distress at being left behind. He wanted to cling to that fear. He needed the images of Rex to hold him to the ground, to keep his brain from panic.
"Rion, I'll take you home now."
Her voice was low-pitched and alluring. Without realizing what he did, Hunter allowed her to clasp his hand and lead him away, down the shaded path. Briefly he glanced back at where Brita still sat shadowed under a spill of lavender blossoms. She looked old and wizened, yet still full of grace and beauty.
He turned back and looked forward. The sky was vivid blue, broken by cottony white clouds. “Does it ever rain, or is it always like this?"
Carly glanced up at him, a slight smile dancing over her lips. “It wouldn't be so green if the rain never fell.” She continued to lead him onward. “It's true of the trees and flowers, but it's true of life as well."
The house she led him to was small, but neat and comfortable. The outside was plastered; a rounded thatched roof crowned the cottage. Flowers grew riotously, climbing up the walls on elaborately crafted trellises. The fragrance of roses and lavender filled the air.
"Brita said you like to read. We've brought books for you. At the main house, there is a library. You can find books on many subjects, and in many languages."
She opened the front door, and he followed her inside, tearing his eyes from the hourglass shape of her body. The floors of the house were wooden, and large shuttered windows opened to allow the sun and breeze to move through the room. The furniture was simple yet comfortable in appearance. There was a fireplace, and a bookshelf.
"Your bed is back here, near the kitchen.” She gestured to a curtained cubby set into the wall. It was similar to Rex's bed at home.
Home ... He needed to cling to that image. He pictured the small croft, sheep on the hill and Rex's garden behind the cottage. Rex...
"There is extra clothing for you. There are food supplies, but we all eat together in the main hall. You're welcome to join us."
Gracefully, she moved around the room, pointing out lanterns and other necessities that he barely noticed. Hunter was fixated on the alluring beauty of the woman. When she caught him staring, he flushed. She smiled.
"I confess, Rion, that you are an extremely handsome being. I've never seen one of the Fallen before.” She moved a bit closer and stroked a long feather on his wing.
"You don't have wings.” His voice was huskier than usual.
"Not all of us do. The gifts of my clan are of a nature different than Reux's."
She drifted to the corner where a stringed instrument was propped. He hadn't noticed it before. “You feel extremely drawn to me. That is the nature of my gift."
"Seduction?"
"Of a sort.” Her fingers drifted over the strings of the lute. “If you'd like to learn, I will teach you.” She lifted the instrument and sat on a nearby stool. She plucked the strings, and the music was so poignant, so pure, that tears came to Hunter's eyes. He'd not forgotten the loss of his song.
She played, and it seemed to last forever yet it ended far too soon. His heart ached to accompany her, and yet he sat mesmerized, unable to turn away. As the last notes faded, Carly gently laid the instrument across his lap and guided his fingers to the fret board. The first tentative notes sang through the room. From there, he wandered, explored. Hunter lost himself in the music.
She rose and moved behind him, running her hands over the edges of his wings. “Have you flown?"
"Once or twice.” He spoke absently, all of his attention on the instrument, the painful sting of the strings under his fingers. “They aren't strong yet, and Rex always worries..."
Rex. He'd forgotten about Rex. Hunter frowned and paused, looking back at Carly. “That's the nature of your gift. Forgetfulness."
"Sweet forgetfulness. Among other things.” She pushed his hair aside and leaned down, her lips whispering along the skin of his neck. She stepped close, between his wings, pressing the length of her body to his. Hunter's breath caught. Her fragrance flooded his nostrils, going straight to his head. “Let go, Rion."
It wasn't that hard to let go, to forget all his worries, his concerns. Her lips skated over his skin, her hands wandered his body. She moved to the side, bringing his face to hers. Her kiss was sweet and gentle. Awkwardly, he set the lute on the floor and pulled her to his lap. His cock was straining and rigid. If Hunter didn't know exactly what to do, his body certainly did!
"Let go, Rion.” Her whisper was so soft, he barely heard it. As though compelled, his mind turned to Carly and her soft body, her alluring fragrance. Once again she leaned in for his kiss. This time her tongue skated over his lips. He allowed his to part, and to his surprise, she was in his mouth, tasting, teasing his tongue to follow hers. Encouraged, he pursued the kiss, following her lips and her mouth, occasionally drawing back to look at her face. “Your kiss is sweet, Rion."
"It's my first."
"I find that difficult to believe."
She smiled and cupped his cheek. She leaned in again, and he thought to catch her lips once more, but she averted her face slightly, pressing kisses on his jaw, nuzzling down his throat to the tender skin under his ear.
To his distinct pleasure, his blood heated, his cock grew harder with a sweet ache. When Carly slid off his lap, he thought to protest until she took his hand, drawing him to follow her. She led him to the sleeping niche, drawing the curtain open to reveal fresh white bedding that was fragrant with lavender. She let go of his hand and slipped out of her clothing before Rion knew what was happening.
"Carly..."
"Shhh...” She laid her fingers over his lips. “This is for me too.” She started to drop her hand, but he caught it, lifting her fingers to his lips once again. One by one, he kissed them, drawing them into the warmth of his mouth. Her soft intake of breath was a reward that made him feel oddly male and powerful.
Gently, she pulled them away and began to undress Hunter, pulling away the coarse tunic and breeches that he wore on the farm. Casually, she dropped them to the floor.
"We have clothing that will adapt better to your wings. There's no need to hide them while you're here.” She then pressed him to sit at the edge of the bed, dropping to her knees between his parted thighs. “So pretty. Such a beautiful body, right down to your fingers and toes."
He smiled, taking a deep breath as she stroked the fronts of his thighs.
"Undo your hair for me."
He'd cut a great deal before it became apparent that the length was too much to easily tend, but it still hung to his waist in a thick curtain. He sat up a bit, letting it loose from the braid that Rex had woven it into.
Rex. He saw his friend's face, the roguish smile and dancing eyes, but all too quickly, the image faded. Between his legs, Carly was moving, her fingers dancing over his cock, making it hard and thick. He leaned back, supported by his hands, and watched as her blonde curls trailed over his skin. She clasped his shaft in a surprisingly strong hand and stroked, just as Rex had taught him.
But then her head dipped, and wet warmth engulfed the head of his cock even as she fisted him hard. H
er tongue dipped into the edge of his foreskin, gentle as a butterfly.
Hunter was unable to hold back the gasp, incapable of stopping the sudden thrust of his hips. Every dip of her head took more of his flesh; every stroke burned and seared him to greater awareness. His head rolled back as she fondled his balls, and when a wet, firm finger glided into his ass, Hunter's strength failed. He dropped onto his elbows, and finally, flat to his back.
She worked him to unbearable peaks and then dropped him abruptly to Earth, over and over again. He shook as though with fever; sweat bloomed over his skin. Long strands of fiery hair stuck to his chest and belly. He needed to finish, but wanted something else. His breath ripped from his chest in great, sobbing moans.
"You're close. I'm ready as well."
He wanted to cry as her hands left his body, leaving him cold and bereft. But she stood and gently urged him further back onto the bed.
He lay like one dead. The swelling of his cock rested heavy and wet on his belly. When Hunter opened his eyes, he saw Carly move above his body, pale in the dim light of the bed. Her breasts were perfect alabaster globes and her hair spilled over her body like molten gold.
She mounted him, straddling his hips. She clasped his cock in her hand and slowly, carefully lowered herself until her warm, slick body swallowed him. His cock disappeared into her channel in agonizing inches. It was tight and blissful and so blessedly sweet. She rose a bit and then dropped, beginning a rhythm that Hunter knew was the most basic, most common instinct, whether a man was angel or human or other.
His hips rose to meet her, and she smiled her encouragement.
"I'm so close already, Rion. So ready."
She leaned forward, supporting herself with hands on his chest. Her hips pumped against his, and the friction began to overtake them both. Their bodies slapped together. Her passage was slick and wet; he felt her juices slipping down his balls, down to the crack of his ass. Hunter forced himself to watch, to see the female as she rode him to her culmination.
Bad Angels: Falling Page 4
