Moment of truth. Freddy dug her cell phone out and brandished it for Guy. "You can give me a ride. But I'm going to hold this in my hand with my finger over the button to call my dad. You try anything funny: he'll come and kick your ass."
Guy raised an eyebrow. "A wise precaution, fairest Jane. This way."
Freddy started up the slope to her house in the direction he'd indicated, and Guy fell in step beside her. Almost immediately, the businesses dwindled to residential streets. The homes became sporadic until only trees surrounded the road.
Guy stopped by a large boulder where Freddy usually rested her legs when she walked. This was near the place where she had first met him. "So, where's our ride?"
Guy's face tightened around an apologetic apologetic smile then he whistled once, loud and shrill. The black brute of a stallion cantered up. Guy gathered the reins and led the fiend toward her.
Freddy gaped at Guy. "Did you leave your horse standing around unattended?"
Guy shrugged and gave the stallion's nose an affectionate pat. "Balios is very well-trained and foul-tempered. He would not wander on his own, and anyone who tried to steal him would lose a finger. At the very least." He smiled and stepped close to her, his body looming over hers in delicious proximity.
Nervous and excited all at once, Freddy stared at him and swallowed. Guy's scent tickled her nostrils, a brisk, fresh smell that reminded her of spring sunshine. She studied his face, perfect in every way from the top of his ivory brow to the point of his chin out to the tip of his narrow, straight-bridged nose. No artist could ever capture the purse of those passionate lips, or the spark in his honey-gold eyes, or even the easy grace with which he carried himself. "You can't get a car like a normal person?" Her voice sounded vaguely breathy to her own ears.
"Balios is far more impressive."
"And evil." The tension between her and Guy suddenly too much to deal with, Freddy ducked her head away and found herself facing the horse. She gave the stallion a tentative pat, the muscles of his neck warm and twitching under the velvety bristle of black fur. The beast's head swung toward her, one liquid eye leveled at her in apparent displeasure.
Curling her fingers in, she pulled her hands away, not wanting to lose a finger to an irritable horse.
Guy laughed under his breath. He clucked his tongue and scolded the stallion in a strange guttural language she didn't understand. The horse nickered and pawed the ground.
The sight of Guy and his horse seriously weirded Freddy out. This moment seemed pulled out of time somehow, plopped into the middle of a sunny SoCal day where it didn't belong. A restless itch started under Freddy's skin as she gazed at Guy, questions bursting from her mouth even as they imploded in her mind. "Guy, who are you? I mean, really?"
He studied her, eyes narrowed, his hand absently stroking down the column of the horse's neck. After a long moment with her and Guy poised together, her questions hanging, his answers seeming to teeter on the edge of his tongue, Guy hunched a shoulder and half-turned away. "Do you know I am tempted to tell you the truth?"
What does that mean? Here was yet another person lying to her, and her annoyance flared. She grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face her. "Try me."
He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes half-hooded by his eyelids then he bent to capture her lips. The touch was brief, just a soft brush of his lips against hers, but heat spiked inside Freddy.
Even that brief touch of his lips had set her senses on fire, unleashing a flock, a hive, a freaking swarm of hot, fluttery feelings inside her. As Guy watched her, his eyes glittering a little, she chewed her bottom lip, sucked in a breath then stepped forward and kissed him. Thoroughly.
After one startled moment, his arms came around her and he kissed her back.
With relish and a foolish, light-headed delight, Freddy buried her fingers in his hair. The dark waves were as soft as they looked, sliding through her fingers like silk. His lips feathered over hers, so expert and tender, while his fingers caressed her cheek and hair, traced the line of her jaw. She gave up, leaned into his touch. Melted. Everything seemed warm and soft, the whole world smelled of flowers and sunshine.
Full dark had almost fallen. She was seriously late. Her parents would worry…God, his lips…I should stop…but this feels so good…no, really, Freddy, stop kissing the nice boy now. She tugged herself away from him with the slow reluctance of pulled taffy. "I have to go."
Guy frowned, but lifted his hands away. He looked at the sky and seemed to realize he had been kissing her for too long. "I have tasks I must do anyway." He hooked his thumb in Freddy's belt loop and pulled her hips against his, leaning in for another embrace. "May I see you again?"
Freddy licked her kiss-roughened lips. She should say no. She should tell him to get lost. She should tell her dad strange boys were kissing her on the walk home. She should--"Definitely," she said.
Guy tried to start again, nuzzling her lips and neck. His lips were soft and warm against the tender skin of her throat, and she wanted to lean into him, to let him keep going. But the darkening sky caused guilt to pool in her gut where delicious heat had been only moments before. With a groan, Freddy wrenched away from him. "Didn't you promise me a ride?"
He looked from her to the horse and grinned. "Of course. Let me help you." He put his hands on her waist and lifted her into the saddle as if she weighed nothing at all, which was certainly not the case. Guy climbed up behind her.
She scooted forward, as far away from his lap as she could get, worried she'd end up in another steamy make out session despite herself. "Now," she set her mouth in a prim line, trying to show him she was not to be tempted. "You better behave yourself, or I won't let you give me a ride."
He laughed and urged the horse forward. "You may trust me."
Freddy nodded and gave him directions, pointing him down the right dirt paths that would lead in a roundabout way to her house.
Riding a horse home from school turned into a truly surreal experience. Freddy would have enjoyed the ride anyway, but when this novel occurrence came coupled with the fact that Guy Smith managed the horse, and he had his arms around her the whole time, enjoyment evolved into a whole other dimension. Riding along in a companionable silence with Guy, Freddy still simmered with excited tension leftover from the kiss. Her body seemed hyperaware of every place it touched his.
Then she remembered something he'd said over the zucchini. "Guy, what happened to your sister?" She tried to make her voice as gentle as possible.
He tensed behind her, his voice cold with anger. "Two months ago she went for a picnic with my mother and disappeared. No one has seen her since."
Freddy whipped around in shock, and nearly overbalanced. He steadied her with one hand, and she covered his hand with hers. "I'm so sorry. That must be awful. Did she--do you know what happened?"
"She has gone. Kidnapped. Fled. We do not know. We have few clues, but my father sent me to find her." He shrugged, but his eyes looked hard, empty.
"What about the police?"
Guy snorted, looking amused and scornful. "They cannot help us."
"Why did you come here to look for her?"
A crease formed between his brows as he studied her face. He caressed her hair, long fingers stroking against her scalp, sending a relaxing ripple through her body. A rush of affection, tenderness, swept over her.
Guy's hand dropped, his voice gently bewildered, his muscles clenched, with pain or disappointment. "You really do not know anything about Kore?"
She flinched and stared at him. "Why would I?"
He shook his head and looked away. "I was being foolishly optimistic. That's all."
Her head echoed with what she had overheard between her parents last night. Was Guy a part of it somehow? Were her parents a part of what had happened to Guy's sister? The thought of her parents participating in a kidnapping would have been laughable before, but everything had been so weird lately…
She laughed at herself u
nder her breath. Drama much, Fred? What had happened with Guy's sister was horrible, but it had nothing to do with what her parents were talking about.
How do you know? Fear skittered down Freddy's spine. She shivered and hugged herself, trying to keep her emotions locked tight, hidden from Guy.
Freddy's phone buzzed in her hand, startling her bad enough she almost dropped it. She fumbled the phone open to take the call.
"Are you all right?"
She flinched away from the phone and her dad's near hysterical voice. "Dad?"
"Frederica Kalonice Fitzgerald. We have been worried sick. Do you have any idea what time it is? Where are you?"
"Oh, no. I'm so sorry." She squirmed with guilt as Guy's arms settled back around her waist. "I was talking to a friend. I lost track of time."
Steel spiked Dad's voice. "I'll come get you. Where are you?"
"No, no. My friend's giving me a ride. I'm almost home."
"Which friend?"
Freddy didn't even hesitate. "Junie."
"Okay." Dad paused then said, "No TV tonight, and you do the dishes."
Freddy gritted her teeth. She hated doing dishes. "Fine, Dad."
"And we are going to have a talk about this when you get home." The tension pulsed over the phone for another moment then he sighed. "Be safe, kiddo. Okay?"
"Yeah, Dad."
"I love you."
"Love, love." She clicked off her phone and cradled it in her palm. Her gut tightened unpleasantly. She never seriously lied to her parents, not about big stuff, and now, twice in one week she'd told two bald-faced lies to her dad.
"It's a charming name."
Still thinking about her dad, she frowned at Guy in confusion. "What is?"
"Frederica."
She blinked at him, startled. "Dad talked that loud? Jeez. But no one calls me Frederica." She winced, remembering the recent phone call. "Only when I'm in trouble."
"What are you called, dear Jane?"
"My friends call me Freddy. What do yours call you, Guy?" The big hypocrite. If Guy Smith was his real name, she'd eat her brand-new purple sneakers.
His lips turned down in a sad pout as he shook his head. "Alas, I have no friends in the world but you."
Freddy raised a dubious eyebrow. "If I had to guess, I'd say you had too many friends. And most of them female."
He gave her a half-smirk, but managed to keep his eyes grave. "Ah, house number 5515. Your home, is it not, Freddy my love?" He reined his horse in at the end of her driveway, where the pines were still thick enough to screen his giant horse from view of her house.
The ride had been quick. Too quick for her taste. She could have done with a bit more Guy Smith. And a few more straight answers. Her unease at seeing him again stirred, a tense prickling along her shoulders, but her physical attraction, warm and so intense, batted that down. She'd been careful. Everything would be fine.
He dismounted and lifted her down. His hands lingered on her waist even as he set her on the ground, and Freddy covered his hands to keep them there, stretching the small moments she had left with him.
"I had best be going," he said. "I have business of my own to attend to, and your guardian will be worried with you dawdling so long." He looked as reluctant to let Freddy go as she was to be let go. He stood there with her for a long moment studying her face, his own knit in concentration as if he were weighing some important decision. "I…shall come again tomorrow." He smiled. "I hope stealing some time with you will be a bit easier tomorrow. Your guard dog is overzealous."
"You mean Dad?"
"Good night." He turned to leave, but she still wanted an answer, so she grabbed his arm, the ropey muscle there firmer than she'd thought. He gave her an arch glance, half-annoyed, half-amused.
She hesitated, embarrassed and a little scared, then met his eyes. "You know my real name. Please, tell me yours?"
"You did not willingly make me free of your name. My name given for yours that was taken is not a fair exchange." His face remained very serious, even as his eyes danced in the fading light.
She tilted her head and let a playful smile hover on her lips. "How about your name given for one kiss stolen?"
Guy laughed outright and stole another quick kiss, stealing her breath along with it. "A fair payment indeed." Sudden wariness sprang into his eyes. He sucked in a breath. "I am Polydegmon."
"Poly…" Freddy faltered. What were his parents smoking?
"Poly-deg-mon." He smiled at her with infinite patience. "Polydegmon."
Freddy gave him a sheepish look. "Shall I call you 'Deg'?"
"I have never been called that." He caressed her cheekbone with his thumb, his touch gentle, warm.
Freddy turned her face into his palm, seeking more contact. "First time for everything." Her voice had gone breathy, and her head was all floaty, bobbing on a gently heated cloud of bliss.
"Do not tempt me again." He led her by the elbow to the bottom of her driveway, still staying in the shadows. "Good night then, until whatever time we can steal tomorrow." He set her backpack at her feet and turned her away from him, toward the house.
Freddy started up her driveway. "See you later. Deg." She rotated back to wave at him with her hand on the doorknob.
The driveway was empty. Polydegmon had already gone with his horse--and she hadn't heard anything. Unease tickled along the back of her neck again, insistent and annoying. She angrily shrugged the feeling off. So Deg was stealthy? Big deal. He was a history geek, he probably practiced stuff like slinking-through-the-underbrush for fun.
The prickle remained, though, less focused, but more powerful now. Like someone grabbing her by the back of the neck and shaking her to take notice.
Body tense, Freddy scanned the street. Nothing. A pair of glowing red eyes watched her from the branches of a nearby tree, and she shivered at the unpleasant memory of her nightmare about the washing woman. "Stupid raccoons." She hurried inside, willing but unhappy to face her dad's inevitable lecture and a lonely night dreaming of Deg.
Chapter Four
Polydegmon had to stop seeing Frederica. She did not know anything. Today had proven that to his satisfaction. She could do nothing to help him find his sister, and to continue seeing Frederica would be a distraction.
This understanding pained him in a way he did not like, weighing his body down with listlessness.
Of course, if he got this damned errand of his father's settled, he would be more than happy to while away several more lazy afternoons with the lovely Freddy. A cheering thought.
But tonight he had a task to complete, and he should be focusing his mind on that business, not his prospective pleasures.
He told himself not to think how Freddy's athletic figure fit against him. The supple, well-honed muscles of a young soldier gave definition to her body. His skin heated, anticipation tingling all through his limbs as he thought of her. Such a beautiful face, those darling dimples, such a gorgeous cascade of hair, she remained delightfully feminine.
He licked his lips to remember the taste of hers. No. Nothing boyish or unwomanly about Frederica. Freddy. Just thinking the nickname made a smile curve his lips. She was so vibrant, so spirited, sparking and burning through life with the fierce beauty of a lit torch--
Stop thinking about her. Focus. Exasperated with himself, he turned his horse, Balios, into the woods, picking his way down an overgrown path leading to the cave where he had made camp.
He rode for about a quarter of an hour, and saw no one--because he did not wish to. His hiding place loomed, and he tied Balios to an obliging tree as he slipped into the cave to change. Stalking through the night dressed in the ridiculous outfit he had donned to meet Freddy would not do. Modern clothes were too impractical. Who wanted to hear the scrape and scratch of denim every time one's legs moved?
He skinned into a simple chiton of dark purple linen and girdled it at his waist. The hem fell to just above his knees, easy to run in. He pinned the chiton at one shoulder so the fa
bric gaped open over half his chest. The night's breeze flirted over his skin as he strapped an iron dagger to his belt and exchanged his strange modern shoes for sturdy leather sandals.
He stepped into the night, picking his way through the dry, sharp foliage of the empty forest. He came upon a scrawny, dun-colored mutt, and the animal froze, blinking at him with large yellow eyes. Polydegmon huffed in irritation. These scrawny yapping hounds--what were they called? Coyotes? They roamed in packs, screeching and crying like shrill, spoiled babes. He willed the mangy beast and his companions away. "Look elsewhere for your scavenging. Go find a nice cat."
The animals blinked and cried to each other, but they disappeared from his woods. Polydegmon nodded in satisfaction.
A hoarse croak sounded above him. He stared into the eyes of a sizeable crow sitting in the tree next to him. The crow cocked her head to one side.
He made her a mocking bow.
The bird flapped her wings twice and snapped her beak. "Quis infit?"
He grimaced at her pronunciation and spoke to her in her own Gaelic language. "I wish you wouldn't slaughter Latin so brutally. I know the followers of the Christ-god pushed your people out, so you are bound to dislike the language, but--"
The bird leapt from her branch and tumbled to the ground. Her shape distorted, growing with each roll. By the time she landed on her feet, she'd turned into a woman, pretty enough with her dark hair and fiery red eyes, but too short for Polydegmon's taste. He bowed again to be polite. "Lady Badb." He struggled to form the right sounds, pronouncing her name "Bahv," which was the closest he could manage in her infernal, unpronounceable language. "You have cut your hair short since last I saw you."
She scoffed and clenched the hilt of her sword, still sheathed--for the moment. "The last time you saw me was a century ago. Small wonder if I have changed."
"But you remain still as enchanting as ever." He looked her over, admiring her figure even as he tried to guess where she might have hidden the rest of her weapons.
She sliced her tensed hand through the air in a cutting gesture to stop his perusal. "Enough. Who was that girl?"
Heir to the Underworld Page 4
