by Anne Manning
Of course she'd thought... After all, he'd been all over her back there in the pub.
Not to mention their ventures into the Dream Realm together.
He shoved the memories away. It wouldn't do to ponder them. It wasn't like they could become reality.
She got off the bed and reached unsteadily for her overnight bag.
"'Scuse me," she whispered, her words slurred enough to remind him she wasn't responsible for her actions.
Gaelen didn't realize until then he was completely blocking the door.
"Please let me out."
"Wait, Annabelle--"
"No." She raised her hand to punctuate her order. "Don't." She hadn't looked at him for long seconds. She wouldn't raise her eyes to his.
"I'm sorry, darlin'."
"Don't call me...that." He heard the tears in her voice. "And don't talk nice to me anymore. Just get out of my way."
"Wait."
"Look. I made a mistake. You aren't in the least interested. It was only a dream. That's fine." Again, she tried to weave past him.
"No. You surprised me, that's all." No way was he going to get out of her way and let her just walk out with this unresolved between them.
"Look, Gaelen, you don't have to try to make me feel better." She stood unsteadily before him. "I'm loaded. When I wake up in the morning, I'll be so sick--" As though to demonstrate, she hiccupped. "I won't even remember making a total fool of myself." She tried straight-arming him out of the way.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to see if Mrs. O'Hara has an extra room."
"No. Don't do that."
"Why not?" Finally, she'd gotten enough control of herself, she could raise her eyes to his and the sight terrified him. Deep down inside where he didn't think fear lived.
She was in love with him.
He couldn't even contemplate the disaster. He couldn't even try to decide how he felt about her.
He thought fast. Why should she not move to another room? What reason could he give her?
"We have to stay together. Remember the goons at the airport?" He could see her softening. "We have to stay together."
Bobbing and weaving like a prizefighter, she appeared to consider this. "All right. But only because we have to. And I know you don't want anything to do with me, so you don't have to pretend anymore. I'll help you. After all, my sister is in there, too." She turned away, then whipped back toward him, closing her eyes and reaching for support. "Just tell me something. I'll probably be sorry about this, too, but what the hell? I might as well get all my stupid things over with at one time, hmmm?"
"What do you want to know?"
"Is it true what Dr. Duncan said?"
"Yes."
"It is?" Her face fell. "You're gay?"
"What?"
"That's what she said."
"Linette?"
Annabelle nodded. "I guess that makes it a little better, then. It's not just me that doesn't turn you on."
"What the hell are you babbling about?"
"She said you're gay. It makes it easier to take that you're not interested in me. I suppose I'm not the first woman who's dreamed erotic dreams about you."
Gaelen caught her by the shoulders and gave her a little shake. "What did she say? Exactly."
Annabelle stared up at him. "You've got the most beautiful eyes. Did you know that?"
"Thank you. Now, Linette. What exactly did she say about me?"
"She said you were gay." Annabelle rocked her head to the side and scrunched her brow in confusion. "No. That's not exactly it. She said you're a fairy."
"She told you that? When?"
"Oh, I don't know. Before you did. Of course, I though she was talking about a fairy." She held up her arm and let her wrist go limp. "But you're a fairy." She flapped her hands in imitation of a bird's wings.
"Yes." He thought he understood. "How did you get the idea that I'm gay?"
"She said so."
He felt a headache coming on.
"Well, I guess maybe I assumed so. From fairy," again she flopped her hand around, "you know."
"Ah. I see."
"But now you say you are."
"What?"
"Just now. You said what she said was true."
"Yes, darlin', I'm a fairy." He grinned at her and flopped a limp wrist at her. "But not a fairy. Not that there's anything wrong with that."
Annabelle recognized the famous Seinfeld line and squealed, her formerly limp wrist slamming across her mouth to shut off her mad giggle.
"You see, darlin'," Gaelen said, taking her hand and stroking the bones, "I thought she'd only told the truth. Pixies cannot lie."
"Really?"
"Really. Pixies often twist the truth, technically being honest, while intentionally leaving the wrong impression. So she told the truth, knowing you'd understand her words in the wrong way." He shook his head. "Clever girl."
"That's what Lucas said, too. I didn't understand him then."
Gaelen shrugged at the thought of the ribbing he'd be likely to get from his little brother when this was all over.
Not that there was anything wrong with that.
"Oh, I don't feel good," she moaned.
Her color was suddenly only slightly better than wilted lettuce. She dropped her bag and pushed him aside, nearly ripping the door from its hinges and dashing into the hallway and across to the bathroom.
Feeling somewhat responsible for her wretched condition, Gaelen followed her into the bathroom and dampened a cloth. After the first wave was over, he went in and sat on the floor beside her, wiping her face with the cool cloth, smoothing back her sweat-dampened hair.
How could he watch her puke and still want to take her back across the room and make love to her until morning? What spell had she cast over him?
The shock made him straighten, pulling away from her. The expression on her face was a repeat of the one earlier, when he'd rebuffed her kiss.
Maybe it was better to let her think he didn't want her. Hell, maybe it would be better if he were gay. At least for a little while until they cleaned up this mess Lucas had made. Then he could go back to his books and forget about her.
As if that could ever happen. He suddenly realized he didn't want to forget about her.
She took the cloth from him. "Thanks. You don't need to stay with me now." She sounded almost sober.
"I want to," he replied honestly. He couldn't leave her.
He loved her.
There, Gaelen. That didn't hurt too much, did it?
But he could never have her. Sure, maybe for a moment, for a night, or two. But the forever his heart demanded was impossible.
Annabelle gazed at him with a hazy expression, slightly hungry, yearning.
The words came from his lips before he could stop them. "We can't, Annabelle. The law."
She frowned, then shook her head slightly as though trying to clear it.
"Come on." He got up and held a hand down to her. She laid hers in his. The fit choked him. He swallowed the feeling he was refusing the greatest gift anyone had ever offered.
But he pushed aside his regret. It was useless to get mired down in something he couldn't help. And they had enough problems without the two of them getting mixed up together.
Still he hated it.
"Here you go," he said, stepping across the hallway and retrieving her overnight bag. "Get your nightgown on and brush your teeth. You need to get to bed, I mean, sleep."
She nodded and slowly shut the door in his face.
He waited in the bedroom where they would both have to try to get some sleep tonight. Both aware of the other. Both wanting the other.
"Damn!" he muttered in frustration. Why couldn't he have been born just a man? A plain vanilla, mortal man?
Even as the thought shimmered through his mind, he knew it for the treachery it was. He was what he was. Annabelle had accepted it readily enough. Of course, she got her fey side from her father.
> "Your turn," she said, slipping into the room on silent bare feet.
"Thanks." He grabbed his bag and made a quick getaway.
* * * *
He was gone for a long time. Once it sunk into her head he wasn't coming back tonight, Annabelle curled under the thick downy comforter and snuggled into the marshmallow soft mattress. She'd slept alone since she was a baby--except for the times thunder and lightning or a particularly good scary story had sent her dashing into her parents' king-sized bed. Why did she feel so alone? This was no different from any other night.
Oh, yes, it was. It was different from last night, when Gaelen's big body had curved behind hers, heating her through and making her feel safe. When he'd come to her in her dreams and given her pleasure like she'd never known. Suddenly she didn't feel safe at all.
Just like those long-gone nights when her imagination's overwork produced a closet teeming with monsters which preyed on little girls who couldn't fall asleep, every clatter of the old house exploded in her ears. She peered into the dark, seeing in the shadows the forms the sounds suggested.
A grown woman shouldn't be so jumpy. But her scolding didn't stop her from starting at the sound of voices outside her door.
"This is the one, is it?"
The words were followed by a whisper, too low to tell anything about the speaker.
"Awww, never mind, now. 'Tisn't as though she can get away."
She forced herself to lay still and concentrate on the voice. The man's voice was familiar.
Again the whispering voice scratched at the door.
"No, no," the man replied. "I saw the big yellow-haired lad leaving here about ten minutes ago. He'll be going to the pub for a drink before last call. We've got plenty of time. Now stand back and let me do my work."
The doorknob rattled. Annabelle jumped out of the bed, looking for an escape route. One glance around told her nobody but Santa Claus could get out of the room without going through the door.
Not really knowing where the inspiration came from, she yanked two overstuffed pillows into the rough shape of a body and threw the comforter back up over the lump. Just as the knob rattled again and a splinter of light sliced into the room, she dropped to the spotlessly clean floor and slid under the bed, not stopping until she hit the wall.
Two sets of feet entered the room. The first to reach the bed were large, inside heavy-soled work boots. She could see the deep treads caked with mud.
"Here you go, darlin'. Time to wake up!"
A pause of silence broke the sound of speech. Annabelle caught her breath, fearing her thumping heart would wake everyone in town.
"What the hell?"
"Where is she?" The whisperer's voice, closer with no door between them, was identifiable. Dr. Duncan's small feet appeared at the side of the bed, then scampered to the window where Annabelle could hear her shaking the window, testing the lock. "She didn't go out this way unless she's sprouted wings."
The man chuckled. "Not likely with Dr. Riley around."
What did that mean?
But she didn't have time to worry about it. The man dropped to his knees beside the bed, obviously to take a look underneath.
Where to go now? Annabelle scrunched closer to the wall.
The bedspread. It hung further on this side, hidden against the wall, layered on the floor. She grabbed a handful and pulled it over her, covering herself with it like a shroud.
Would this be enough? She could see a shadowy outline through the thin material. Surely the man would be able to see her, even in the darkness under the bed.
Her heart jumped in her throat. She couldn't have breathed even if she hadn't been afraid to.
His face appeared upside-down peering under the bed.
He's got me.
Gaelen where are you?
Chapter Twenty One
Gaelen stood behind the rented Mercedes, pawing through the things in the trunk. He'd come down to get their precious supply of ointment, so he could keep an eye on it. It was the only thing they had which couldn't be replaced easily.
He hefted the bag their supplies were in: the iron knife, the salt, and the crystal bottle of ointment.
Better be getting back to the room and get some sleep.
Still he stood there, waiting.
What if she were still awake? Would she still have that hurt look in her eyes?
Maybe I should sleep in the car? Nothing good could come of getting too close to her. She'll be hurt. I'll be hurt.
Too late, bucko. Too late.
He slammed the trunk lid. "Damn, Lucas! This is all your fault, little brother." Promising his brother all manner of punishment in this world and the next, Gaelen stomped back to Mrs. O'Hara's establishment. Another muttered threat to Lucas's well-being froze on his lips unspoken.
He stopped beside the panel van in front of Mrs. O'Hara's that hadn't been there when he'd left. He slammed through the front door, eyes up. His heart fell to the soles of his feet when he saw the door to the small bedroom open. The room where he'd left Annabelle.
He took the narrow stairway three steps at a time, then froze at the door.
One of Linette Duncan's pet fairy mercs knelt down by the bed, his head low.
"Not under here, Doc."
"Are you sure?" Linette started to drop to her knees to take her own look underneath.
Gaelen stepped inside, unnoticed by the two intruders, and swept his gaze around the room.
Annabelle, where are you?
"Looking for something, Linette, my songbird?"
Linette jerked up straight but didn't answer.
Her pet also straightened. He glanced between Linette and Gaelen.
"What have you done with her?" Gaelen asked.
"Nothing." Linette's calm voice didn't reassure him.
He dropped the bag and crossed the room in two strides, his hands on Linette's pixie neck before he could stop himself. The merc jumped, hands out to intervene. Gaelen backhanded the man across the room.
"Stay out of this," he growled.
Linette struggled, her hands clawing at his fingers wrapped around her throat. "Let go of me! Frank!" she called to the merc sitting on the floor.
"If he gets off his ass, I'll squeeze everything out of you. So sit still, Frank." Gaelen loosened his fingers. "Where is she, Linette? I swear before Dana herself, if you've done anything with her--"
Linette shook her head as much as she could with Gaelen holding her by the neck. "I haven't touched your precious mortal woman."
"Where is she?" he asked for the final time between clenched teeth.
"I don't know." As Gaelen's fingers tightened again, she sputtered, "She wasn't here when we came in. I swear."
"I left her here. Right here." He squeezed tighter. "Tell me, you treacherous pixie bitch or I'll...!"
Linette's gurgle filled the room.
"Gaelen?" Annabelle's voice drifted from under the bed. She scrambled up on the far side, squeezed between the bed and the wall. He glanced up at her and saw her face assume a mask of horror. "What are you doing? Let her go!"
Relief made him weak. He let Linette go and she dropped to the floor. She scampered over to Frank, who'd obediently kept his seat on the floor.
Annabelle stared at him.
Frank stared at him.
Linette was the only one who didn't. "So, Gaelen," she said in a croak. "You and your brother both, law breakers, eh? A double trial, then. Such an event it will be."
"What are you talking about?"
"You know perfectly well. You've been consorting with a mortal woman. You've exposed yourself to her, haven't you?"
"I wish," Annabelle muttered, crossing her arms.
Frank snickered.
"Shut up!" Gaelen and Linette shouted in one voice.
Gaelen's brow tightened in a frown at Annabelle. "Let me handle this."
"Like you were handling it just now?" She shook her head. "No thanks. Don't know what Irish prisons are like, but I'd re
ally hate to have to explain a dead pixie in our room."
Linette glared at him. "You've exposed me, too?"
Annabelle clambered over the bed. "You know, you fairy people--"
"I'm not a damned fairy," Linette said.
"Sorry. You immortal people worry way too much about whether anybody believes in you or not."
"That's easy for you to say, lass," Frank said, his words trailing off as he met Gaelen's gaze. He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I know. Shut up." He folded his hands in his lap.
"Look here, Gaelen. I was ordered to bring her to the Council of Elders."
"Why?"
She didn't answer.
"Because she told them you and I were lovers." Annabelle's voice filled the empty air. "That makes you guilty of breaking the law."
Linette laughed. "This isn't about sex, you stupid mortal."
At a growl from Gaelen, she backed away from him, a very satisfying reaction from his point of view. Once out of his reach, however, she regained her confidence.
"It's about revealing ourselves." She tossed Gaelen a saucy look. "If you'd been half the scholar you pride yourself on being, you'd know that. But I guess our records aren't a fit subject of study for you, Dr. Riley."
"What?"
"That's right, Gaelen, me boyo," Linette crowed with a smirk. "The law forbids revealing one's nature to a mortal. You can boink 'em to your heart's content."
"Where did you find this out?"
"In the Great Library. Where you'd be doing your work if you had any ethnic pride at all."
Her words struck so close to his conscience, Gaelen couldn't respond. Annabelle, however, had no such impediment.
"I don't see you practicing fairy medicine, Dr. Duncan."
"I am a pixie!" Linette snapped her mouth shut. "I am a pixie," she said more calmly. "I am a distant cousin of the Irish fairies." Glaring at Gaelen, she added, "A close enough connection, I assure you."
"What now?" Annabelle knelt on the bed, arms crossed.
Linette's green eyes flicked between Gaelen and Annabelle. "I suppose there's nothing I can do. I must leave with my mission unaccomplished. I had hoped to produce Miss Tinker here as Exhibit A against you."
"Don't worry, Doc," Annabelle said, "I'll be there."
Her words gave Gaelen a rush of pride in her spunk. He turned to Linette and clucked insincere pity. "What a shame you have to be going so soon, Doc." He motioned to the door, unwilling to remove himself from between Linette and her quarry.
