by Jana LaPelle
Smirking, he winks and says, “Don’t blame me, honey cheeks. You were the one that brought me here and then promptly passed out in my arms. From the local news on your TV, I gather that here is somewhere in eastern Kentucky, which is quite the distance from Tarron’s Tavern, I might add. So… I decided to make myself comfortable while you slept it off. Seeing how you are my ride out of here. So, that was your first time drinking faerie wine? And how do you know my king?”
Stunned, I douse my fire, the one in my hand is easy, the one burning inside me not so much. Holstering my blade, I reply barely above a whisper, “Something like that. Why did you make me breakfast? I really must have ruined your evening. The night was still very young. Did you say your king?” All my questions come tumbling out of my mouth in a rush.
He shrugs his amazing shoulders and turns back to the breakfast that he has so diligently been working on, and says, “Who says I made breakfast for you?”
What the hell? I glare at his broad back and march into the room, “My house, my food.” I declare, my hangover making me testy.
He laughs, “Don’t get your panties all twisted up, I’m just teasing, honey cheeks. Come on over here and get something to eat. You’re looking a bit under the weather. Most grown men can’t handle a thimble full of faerie wine, yet I believe that you drank a whole glass. I may have to say something to my king the next time I see him.” I watch as he plates bacon, eggs, and French toast and slides it my way across the granite counter of the island, along with maple syrup and a tall glass of milk that I eye suspiciously. I’ll save that for later. Coffee is what I’m really craving.
Pinning him with a look, “So, I may have brought you here by accident, but if I remember correctly, you were the one wrapping your arms around a complete stranger from behind. As far as I’m concerned you could have gotten a lot worse than being traced halfway around the planet. You still need to tell me who you are. I can’t figure out your breed. It escapes me. You must be dark fae if you refer to Tarron as your king.” I shovel several forks of amazing food into my mouth and mumble, “This is so good. I didn’t have anything to eat last night. Thank you.”
He smiles a dazzling smile and I feel my defensive walls begin to melt and his reply is quick, “Well, forgive me, princess, for coming to your aid. It looked as though you were going to face plant the way you were swaying on your feet. I’m Daxell by the way, but my friends call me Dax, and you are?”
“LJ, but my family calls me Lillie Joanna. To answer your question, yes, it was my first time drinking faerie wine.” I continue to feed my face as I regard the handsome man in my kitchen. He must have at least five or more years on me, he’s no kid, but rather all man. Comfortable in the fact that he’s only half-dressed and sporting an intricate tribal tattoo that spans his upper left pec, it travels across his broad shoulder and down his muscular arm to taper off just above his wrist.
“If Tarron is truly your uncle, why would he give you such a healthy portion of majically infused wine? To be honest, I’m surprised that you are even awake and walking. How are you feeling?”
“My head is thumping to a tempo I don’t recognize, but my system will quickly burn through any residual effects soon enough, now that I’m eating and awake. I have healing majic that I can tap into, but I think I’ll punish myself for a little while longer, so I’ll remember to not make that mistake again.” I get up and grab a couple of ice cubes out of the refrigerator and plop them into the milk. Just because I’m super thirsty, I grab another glass and fill it with iced water and down half the glass before filling it again and returning to my seat. Coffee will have to wait. It doesn’t appear as though he has brewed any. Turning back to Daxell, I ask, “Can I get you anything while I’m up?”
He slides his plate back across the island and asks politely, “Another helping of everything?” It does not escape my notice that his hooded eyes are taking all of me in and once again, an undeniable heat flares to life within me.
I fill both of our plates again and slide into place beside him and make quick work of the rest of my breakfast. We eat in companionable silence, before I break it, needing to know more about this sexy as sin stranger who was a complete and utter gentleman last night. Filling full, I push my plate away and stand to start the clean-up, all the while I’m gently pushing healing majic to the areas most affected by the faerie wine, like my pounding head. Slowly, I begin to feel better, my head starts to feel clear of all the cobwebs, and I sigh, turning back to Daxell, I say, “So out with it. You have avoided my questions so far, but you should know, I won’t let you off so easily.”
He grins a wicked grin, “You have also piqued my interest. I’ll answer you a question for a question. Deal, honey cheeks?”
Sighing, “Okay… I agree, but I go first. What kind of dark fae are you?”
His teasing turns serious, and he looks away from me. Sighing, he stands to walk to the window overlooking the back yard, and mutters, “Hell’s saints. You would lead with that. Wouldn’t you? It’s complicated.” He runs his hand through his raven dark hair in clear agitation.
“What do you mean, it’s complicated?”
“I’m a liaison of sorts, between The Realms.”
My internal warnings have begun going off at the solemnness of his words and actions, and I ask, “What does that mean? A liaison between The Otherworld and The Mortal Realm. I thought that we already had more liaisons than we could handle at this point.”
Turning back to face me, he asks me softly, “You are a daughter of light, have you not figured it out yet?” I shake my head, not understanding where he is going with this and he smiles a sad smile, “As you are a daughter of light, I’m a son of darkness. I’m half-human and half … demon. I’m a child born of The Underworld that is allowed access to both realms.”
5
Cover Me In Pixie Dust and Call Me Surprised
(Lillie Joanna)
Did he just say demon? How is that even possible to be half-demon? I look over to see that he has turned his back on me again, his head down in what? Shame? The draw to him that I felt from the moment I could scent his presence has not lessened. If anything, my draw to him has multiplied and I demand, “Explain.”
He turns to me and hops up on the counter to sit there before continuing, “My mother is human. She’s beautiful and evidently has some nymph in her bloodline someway down the line. Anyhow, when the veil between the realms was damaged, my fathers emerged from The Underworld and they stumbled upon my mother. To hear her tell the tale, they were smitten at first sight.”
“Wait … you said, fathers, as in plural?”
“Yes! Keep up with me, honey cheeks.” His tone holds exasperation.
I hold up a hand and say, “Hold up just a minute. I’m not passing judgment here, so cool your jets and let's get back to you helping me understand your status. I don’t care about what makes up your DNA, but who you are as a person. No one has any control over who their parents are, but we all have control over what we do with our lives. Now continue.”
His grin is huge as if he just won the lottery. “I’ll continue, but I get to ask a question. That was the deal.”
Smiling, I turn and continue with the cleanup, stuffing what I can into the dishwasher, and say, “Ask away, demon boy. I’m an open book.”
“You can trace. Only the gods and goddesses of these realms can trace. Sooo…, spill.” He looks utterly, devilishly handsome watching me with the heavy scruff on his face that has grown in much heavier than a five o’clock shadow.
Cringing, I respond, “And you would lead with that, and that’s not entirely true. Keepers can trace. You know, the whole ushering of souls and whatnot. To answer your question, yes, I’m a goddess and a Keeper. I don’t want to talk about that right now. So, back to you. Who fathered you?”
His smile falters, “Fuck, princess, I’m no longer liking this game.” He pauses before blurting, “The Fallen princes of Hell. Lust and Envy.”
I hop up
on the counter and sit next to him and ask incredulously, “You mean Asmodeus and Leviathan? How is that even possible? I mean, two fathers? Wow. That’s crazy.”
“Well, they both equally claim me as their son. Evidently, they shared my mother during conception and she does not deny that fact. They make quite the little threesome.”
I study him for a moment and ask, “Where did you grow up? I mean, I thought the Fallen were called back to The Underworld before the rift was sealed. I have so many questions.”
Abruptly, Daxell slides off the counter, putting some distance between us, and I feel as though I’m being snubbed. Turning back to me he says, “By the way, I spoke with Tarron last night after I put your pretty ass to bed. I’m not supposed to touch you, have sex with you, or taint you in any way. Something about me not being good enough to breathe the same air as you, let alone share the same space. Not that I’m in any way attracted to you. You are a little too goody two shoes for me. I like my women tall, blonde, and experienced.” His tone is insulting and his face has taken on a dark edge.
My mouth drops open in stunned silence before my blood begins to boil, “Is that so?! Well…, demon boy, you think very highly of yourself. We’re just having a conversation here, sex is not, nor was it ever on the table. Just for your information, you would be lucky to have me, damn lucky, and you know it. Not that I’m in any way attracted to your rude … ass.” I hop off the counter and march across the room to head back upstairs effectively putting an end to our once civil conversation. I toss over my shoulder, “I’m going to take a shower, and no, that isn’t an invitation for you to join me. I’ll take you back to Tarron’s when I’ve gotten myself together. Wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed by being seen with me in anything less than your high standards in women.” I’m fuming mad and without another thought, I trace to my bedroom and slam the door shut behind me, putting a barrier between us.
Who the hell does he think he is?
6
Damned
(Daxell)
She’s right. I would be the luckiest male in any realm to have her, but Tarron’s warning was clear. I’m to have absolutely nothing to do with her. She’s way out of my league anyway. I’m just now beginning to put the pieces together from our short conversation. She affirmed that she was a goddess and a Keeper. Which means that her mother is none other than the goddess of life, Mother Keeper of Souls. The Horde King’s mo solas. No wonder he was so freakin’ pissed when I disappeared with her last night, much less that I dared to even wrap my arms around her. Everything about her draws me in. Her scent is enticing, sweet, like honey and cream, her dark brown hair that tumbles down her back in a riotous mass of loose curls, her elven ears, her light golden brown skin that glitters in the bright morning light. Not to mention her twinkling blue eyes, her luscious lips, and by the gods, her curves are enough to bring any man to his knees with just her sultry gaze and her fiery temperament. Everything in me screams that she is my perfect match. That she’s mine.
Snap out of it, Dax. She’s not for you. Hell, you’re a duke of The Underworld and she’s a Keeper of Souls, a goddess that answers to a higher calling. I’m nothing more than the bastard son of two of the original Fallen. Not that I would ever say that to my mother. As far as she is concerned, her union with my fathers has been blessed by the Creator himself. It’s best that I keep my distance, for Lillie’s sake. Tarron’s right, I’m no good for her. She deserves better than a half breed demon that straddles The Underworld and The Mortal Realm.
My mind made up, I push away from the counter and move to open the door that leads to the deck on the back of the house that overlooks a wooded area and a stream. The air outside is pleasant which is unseasonably cool for the climate now. Most of this area has suffered from ongoing drought and climbing temperatures for the last two hundred years. Forest fires have all but scorched the land and rendered it barren.
Sensing her presence, I turn, she’s leaning against the doorjamb, just watching me. Her dark hair is down and flows in wavey curls to just past her waist, it’s deceiving in its color if the light catches it just right, there are reddish honey-colored low lights that shimmer just below the surface. She’s wearing an almost threadbare pair of skinny jeans, and black suede boots that hug her legs all the way up past her knees. The stiletto height of the heels of her boots give her the illusion of being taller than she is, but damn if I like it. Her black wrap around top ties just under her left breast, and is cropped showing off her bare toned stomach, and it dips low in the front giving me a glimpse of a black lace bra beneath her blouse. Fuck. She’s sexy as sin. Those blue eyes glittering as she sizes me up.
“How long have you been standing there?” I ask.
“Long enough. I’ve had a little time to cool off. Just what exactly did Tarron say to you?” She demands with her hands on her hips. She looks pissed.
“He just reminded me of my place.”
“And what place is that?”
“That I’m demon-kind and that while I’m here, I answer to The Horde King.”
“And when you’re in The Underworld? Who do you answer to then?” Her eyes narrow as she watches me.
“Luc, but you knew that.”
“What about your fathers? Do you answer to them? You know what? Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I thought we were having a perfectly nice conversation getting to know one another, but you made it clear that you’re not interested in getting to know me.” She walks over to the refrigerator and pulls out a glass pitcher with tea in it and pours a glass, turning her back on me.
Damn, if that doesn’t smart. Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “But I do want to get to know you, LJ. I wanted that from the first moment you walked into the bar last night, but Tarron’s right. I’m no good for you. I can only bring you trouble.”
“So? This is you being all noble and shit? We’ve all got our crosses to bear, demon boy.”
Turning away, I mumble, “You have no idea.”
“Listen, I grew up with an imp in the house, he’s demon-kind and he’s funny, and caring, and honorable. I’ll say it again. I don’t care what you are, but who you are. You should also know, that no one has the right to decide for me who I choose to befriend, date, or bed, except me. That includes the meddling Horde King and my parents. I’m a grown woman. I choose my path, not anyone else. Now, are you ready? I need to have a similar conversation with your king, my nosey ass uncle.”
She puts her tea down and walks my way, her hips swaying as she makes her way across the room and I can’t look away from her. She’s so damn beautiful. I put my hands up and say, “I get it, you’re pissed. I’m just trying to follow my king’s directive, if that pisses you off, you will need to take it up with him, but if you are hoping to have a conversation with Tarron, I doubt that he will be up yet. He’s a creature of the night, usually.”
“Do I look like I care? Come on Cara, let’s go.” She calls to her fox who bounds into the room looking mischievous and makes her way toward us.
“What’s up with you and that fox anyway? She’s very protective of you.”
“That’s classified information, for only my closest friends. You don’t rank that high. Are you ready to get back? The sooner we do so, the sooner you can wash your hands of me.”
She reaches for me and I back away, my hands up in a submissive gesture, and say, “Listen, honey cheeks, it doesn’t matter what we may want or not want, the two of us getting together would be bad news. You know it and I know it.”
“Again. You happen to hold yourself in very high regard. Who said anything about us hooking up? I merely thought it would be nice to get to know the person who took care of me last night. Oh, and I’m LJ to you. Honey cheeks sounds way too much like a pet name for my liking. Come on, I have a bone to pick with my uncle.” She reaches over and grabs my hand, and just like last night, the world shifts and falls away as I’m pulled with her through her trace trail.
As we arrive at the entrance of the
bar on the upper level from last night, we hear a baritone male voice raised in anger, “Tarron, are you trying to tell me that a demon went home with my daughter last night, under your watch, after you got her wasted on faerie wine? Then you did nothing about it? Why the bloody hell is this the first that I’m hearing about this?” The voice demands.
LJ groans beside me, “Oh for the love of pixie dust, why did my uncle call my Da into this mess?”
“Shit, that’s your father?” I hiss on a low whisper.
“Yes,” she whispers back.
“Alaric, calm down. Lillie is a grown woman. You may not like it, but she is strong, determined, and has her head screwed on straight, if not a bit hard-headed. We need to trust her now as she comes into her own. This is not something that we can do for her, you know that. It’s her life, she’s a young adult. We’ve discussed this. Now calm down. As for you Tarron, how dare you give Lillie more than a shot glass full of faerie wine. A whole freakin’ glass? What the hell were you thinking? No wonder she passed out before she could even get to her bed.”
“Oh hell, my mother is pissed too. I think I need to intervene.” She whispers.
“Have fun with the family drama, I’m outta here.” I move to leave and she grabs my hand sending a jolt of tingling electricity through me, halting any further movement.
“Come on, demon boy. You’re coming with me. I’m not the only one that has caused a raucous.” Turning the corner, we can see that her parents are there with Tarron and the three are bickering amongst themselves. She clears her throat and lets go of my hand and marches into the room with her fox, greeting everyone icily, “Good morning. I see that I’m not disappointed. The topic of discussion is none other than myself.” The grin on her face is forced.
