Eternal Bond (Edanholme Book 2)

by Catherine Fitzpatrick

  her closer to the lake, a wary human threw her arms wide a fiendish grin on generous lips.

  “Did you know? You wiggle your butt like a woman, just before you strike…” The lust

  burning in chocolate brown eyes cleared swiftly, to be replaced by unholy revenge for a

  damning slur on the masculinity of a Sidhe warrior. With a high pitched girly squeal,

  knowing she was in for payback big-time, the Angel of Edanholme tore across long

  grasses heading for the lake.

  A humungous male pounded in her wake, a low snarl emerging from a huge chest.

  She hadn’t a chance of out-running a vengeful bear, but at least he was distracted

  from the consuming urge to claim her as a mate.

  Turi caught up with a fleeing witch on the shore-line, lifting her in strong arms with

  supreme ease, he tossed her high in the air to soar lightly over smooth waters.

  An appreciative grin on his face, he watched as she controlled the head-long flight, to

  enter a peaceful lake in a graceful dive with nary a ripple. La Nina’s instincts and quick

  reflexes denoted more than a human heritage, not Fae, something entirely different.

  It was an intriguing puzzle that held all the enforcers enthralled. Not Drusal, the Consort

  to the queen, he sat on the side-lines with a knowing smile on his face. One of them

  would fall, would gain for themselves a true mate. The questions being, whom and when?

  A dark head broached the surface of a undulating lake, making for the shore under the

  narrow eyed smouldering of a bewitched and bemused male, Alex sliced through the

  water with long elegant strokes. Treading water under an overhanging shelf of rock, wide

  sapphire eyes lifted to gaze pathetically into luminous brown she held up both arms in

  entreaty. “The least you can do… Is to pull me out….”

  A sly little grin twitched at her lips, as warm fingers slipped around her hands. With all

  the strength she could muster, a tiny human succeeded in dragging Turi the Bear Lord

  into the water with a loud splash.

  “If I’m forced to take a bath, so are you…” A choking laugh echoed across still waters.

  Under cover of shady trees, violet eyes watched a frolicking couple at play. Longing

  beat at a wounded soul, the unlooked for knife of jealousy stabbed at a frozen heart.

  The Bard lived every breath Aingeal took, felt the pain of disregard as his kindred, the

  forgotten and dispossessed souls of a depraved court, treated a lesser human with utter

  disdain. If it were not for Turi keeping a wary eye out for strife, he would be driven to

  come forward, to protect a precious life force. A troubled lilac hued stare locked onto

  the lake, the unmistakable green shimmer of translocation took Aingeal from his sight.

  Finger drying her hair in a blue black feather of glossy strands, Alex giggled again at the

  surprised expression on Turi’s face as he fell into the lake. It certainly doused his ardour,

  the sudden lusting after her body. She had argued the point that he had got her wet, the

  bare minimum of decency required him to take her home for a change of clothes. The trip

  transpired with good grace, and an invitation to have dinner with him. A peace offering

  she couldn’t repudiate, but she could set the innocent parameters for a way to mark the

  boundaries of friendship. No-one refused a delicious meal prepared by the bear, he was

  an excellent cook. It was reluctantly agreed they would be joined by his brothers in an

  impromptu camp-out, a spit-roast of fowl and game. There was safety in numbers, even

  if she was a lone female surrounded by lusting males eager to attract a mate.

  Breezing back into the living room, ready to hitch a ride with Cat back to a convivial party

  in the balmy warmth of paradise, sapphire eyes flew wide in shock. Teague stood quietly

  by the windows, back to her, dressed as always in soft Sidhe leathers. Her mouth watered

  just looking at a graceful figure of long limbed menace. The dull ache of longing in the pit

  of her stomach, a reminder of why she’d denied his services as body-guard, he was just

  too bloody irresistible.

  “Why are you in my home Lord Teague…?” Fussing with tailored shorts and sleeveless

  blouse the same shade of blue as her eyes, a racing heart belied the coolly maintained

  façade of disinterest in a fabulous male.

  “I wished to be certain you were not unduly disturbed by the indelicate tongue of a sadly

  distressed matron…” Turning to face her, a long flow of silver strands slithered across

  seriously broad shoulders, a wealth of hair Alex itched to sink her fingers into.

  “What a load of bull… You were there, you saw the whole thing. Turi deflected a nasty,

  noxious tongue, repressed a vicious female with a show of insulting disrespect. That’s

  more than you were prepared to do.” Crossing the room to stand inches from his chest,

  Alex looked up into disturbingly opaque amethyst eyes.

  “Stop stalking me. If you are intent on following me around, do so openly. Or not at all…”

  That was it. She had said her piece, if he didn’t like it, tough… She was getting a crick in

  her neck, looking over her shoulder in expectation of finding a cute wraith shadowing her

  steps.

  Teague showed no surprise on a serene face at her perceptions of his presence, Aingeal

  was aware of every soul who resided in Edanholme, why would he expect her not to notice

  him amongst so many?

  “It was remiss of me to not to depress the offensiveness of a noble lady, who knows no

  better. I will not make that mistake again…” With a gracious bow, Teague gave her the

  only apology he could. Sorry, a term that escaped his vocabulary. The whole sentence,

  could had been compressed into that one little expression of contrition.

  “I don’t want you to fight my battles Teague. I am more than capable of taking care of

  myself. What I do want you to do, is lighten up on the over protective, lean, mean,

  menacing machine. Take some time to relax with your brothers, take a lazy day off from

  the misguided role of guardian angel.” A wide smile dimpled smooth peach tinted cheeks.

  “Turi is preparing a huge dinner for all his brothers, would you care to join us…?”

  The invitation to bond with fellow warriors in a noisy, messy camp fire feast, was uttered

  in husky tones of bland entreaty. She was desperate for his company, but not totally lost

  to stupidity. Begging a distant hunk of defensiveness to drop his shields, just wouldn’t work.

  Offering the promise of an easy meal, he didn’t have to expend any energy in foraging for,

  might just do the trick.

  “If it atones for causing thee distress, I would gladly partake of a meal with my brethren.”

  A yes, would have sufficed, but it was better than a definite no.

  “Good enough…” A soft gurgle of infectious laughter brought a shy smile to firm lips.

  A reveal of the Bard’s insecurities in a world his brother warriors had fully embraced,

  with loud voiced enjoyment and less than discreet manoeuvres to vie for the attentions

  of an unattached female, showed plainly he was out of his depths.

  “I’m going to catch a ride with Cat when she finishes work. The camp site, I think, is to be

  by the side of the lake. Turi was too wet, and annoyed at me for dumping him in the water,

  to be fully intelligible…”

  Gazing into glowing lilac eyes, Alex caught t
he faint shadow of distaste in slightly raised

  perfectly arched brows.

  “It’s called having fun… I made a joke at his expense, a quick dousing in the lake a minor

  punishment I richly deserved.” She hadn’t a clue what it would take to make a coldly

  superior Sidhe noble unbend enough to live a little. Other than enticing him to enjoy a

  few music concerts and a rare meal with his kin, the Bard stood aloof, a stoically remote

  sentinel on the fringes of a dawning age of renewal and freedom.

  “You were not hurt Aingeal…?” A raspy whisper hit her ears in sensory overload, to run

  in a liquid shock wave down her spine. His voice oozed sensuality, a raw mix of erotic

  promises and sultry temptation.

  “Not in the least…” The ache of longing for a stunningly beautiful man hurt her far more

  than the waspish tongues of Sidhe matrons, or an unannounced dip in an icy lake ever

  could. She had demanded he come forward, rather than hide away in watching every

  move she made. It wouldn’t help her to cope with the craving for his love, but it would

  satisfy a need. The need to know he wasn’t skulking in the shadows, a ghostly figure

  ignored by the cretins who made Edanholme a waking nightmare of malicious snubs and

  far from subtle insults.

  “How will you spend your time in the interim Aingeal…?” Voicing an open question for

  the first time in a tentative relationship, the Bard made progress towards affirming he

  could actually make enquiries after a female’s free hours. Alex acknowledged a query

  that could be classed as impertinent, with a radiant smile.

  “I’m going to bake…” She studied the confusion on a delicious face with a wicked sense

  of triumph, the Bard had initiated a conversation. Ok, so it wasn’t earth shattering, or

  quantum physics, but it was a start.

  “You must have seen bread being made…?” A nod of a silvery head said yes, the look in

  violet eyes said I’m not a complete idiot.

  “Well I’m going to make Banana bread, not quite the same as a loaf of bread but much

  sweeter, and a great way to round off one of Turi’s heroic meals.”

  Teague watched in fascination as two tin boxes filled with gooey yellow batter slid into

  a hot oven. “How long is the wait…?” Perched on a high stool, upper body draping the

  granite counter top, long fingers made patterns in a drift of flour.

  “An hour or so…” Rinsing off her hands, Alex stacked the dishwasher with bowls and

  spatulas, heaving a contented sigh. Seriously unnerving violet eyes had followed every

  move she made, a feeling of a cat stalking its prey sent a cold shiver racing over her

  skin raising gooseflesh on trembling limbs.

  “What do you do now…?” He was well and truly making a meal of the questioning.

  “Read a book usually. I don’t get much time these days… I miss my favourite authors.”

  Wiping off her hands, she leant back on the countertop to watch her words sink in.

  “Will you show me what manner of books you read?” The Bard loved words, the old

  language he was well versed in, this modern language of the earth he strove hard to

  interpret. Following Aingeal to a small shelf of books constructed solely from paper

  with vibrantly painted covers, he took the book she proffered in reverent hands.

  “Tis a book depicting vampires…? Human writers have knowledge of the plague?”

  His breath whistled through compressed lips.

  “No… This is a work of fiction. A make believe world of dreams and wishes, a fun

  journey into romance and…” Alex bit at her lip. How the hell could she explain the

  wild and sexy world of paranormal romance to a real creature of the supernatural

  without sounding like a complete moron? “Never mind, you really wouldn’t get the

  meaning of the story.”

  Tossing him a couple of Readers Digests she curled up in the one armchair, leaving the

  sofa free to accommodate a rangy frame.

  “Is this fiction too…?” Flicking through the colourful plates of amazing vistas, a male

  adrift in a world of contradictions, poetic music and less than truthful writings, it made

  plain to him these humans had magnificent imaginations. Somewhat bizarre, but most

  definitely to his liking.

  “Nope… A true depiction of the earth in all its glory, good and bad… Drought, famine,

  war torn countries, all of it portrayed in glossy colour. There’s also beauty in the rain

  forests, vast deserts and ancient cities. Like the Sidhe realms, there exists here on a

  miniscule planet in a vast universe, treasured moments and evil deeds.” A bit on the

  heavy side, but he’d asked for it. The earth and its indigenous population suffered just

  as much, if not more than his kind. Maybe it would give the Bard an idea of how much

  alike they were, to hear of wars and the desolation and destruction of whole cities.

  “Thy heart is caring Aingeal, a true gift of the mother…” Settling his frame deeply into the

  comfy cushions of the sofa, Teague buried his nose in a magical journal. An in depth

  interpretation of a diversified world he had become part of, set in perfect type and deeply

  moving scenes of strife and joy.

  “Not really, it’s the truth… Our worlds are different in many ways, but essentially the

  same in so far as uncontrolled tyrants will oppress the defenceless where possible.

  It’s an easy route to turn a blind eye to suffering… Cat is the empathetic one in our

  partnership, she envisions the safety of her subjects. I’m the doer, the mental muscle

  that makes the good things happen.” Shrugging off praise she didn’t feel should be

  apportioned to the grunt work involved in making paradise liveable, Alex denied any

  altruism in her endeavours. She did it for Cat and to a large degree for the enforcers.

  The rest of the garbage, she couldn’t give a toss about.

  “Then we agree to differ… It takes more than mere command, to offer thy services to

  beings with less sense than they were born with.” The Bard saw generosity of soul and

  a blessed heart, where Aingeal perceived her lot as no more than arduous labour.

  “Just read, and stop trying to psychoanalyse me…”

  Alex spent more time sneakily peeping over her book, than actually getting into the meat

  of the story. It was a wasted effort with an alien male in the room, one who had suddenly

  blossomed into a semblance of friendliness. She may have bitten off more than she could

  chew in bringing a reclusive warrior into the open. Too late now… She couldn’t tell him

  to sod off and leave her alone, that would be as offensive as Turi offering no deference

  to a noble born female. Chewing on her lip, eyes fixed on a study of grace and beauty

  lost in a wealth of words and pictures, an anxious female counted down the minutes until

  she and the banana bread could make a quick exit.

  The buzzing of the timer broke into a silence that had all the appearance of a long

  established relationship. “Right that’s it…”

  Bounding from the armchair close to the speed of sound, donning oven gloves she

  pulled golden crusted loaves form the oven. They really needed to cool, but Teague’s

  quiet presence ate at her nerves. Leaving them in the baking tins, Alex placed her

  contribution to tonight’s meal in a canvas tote bag.

  “If you wish Aingeal, I will transport thee to t
he meeting place, with no need to disturb

  the Queen…” Lilac eyes held nothing but bland courtesy. No trace of excitement at a

  treat of a feast. Weighing up her options, a female torn between an hour or so of Cat’s

  not so subtle questioning about her love life, or an instant trip to join a party where

  there was safety in numbers, she plumped for the latter. The short time spent in the

  vicinity of a gorgeously unavailable male had been pleasant in a surreal sort of way,

  but promised nothing other than polite enquiries and a one way trip to frustrated

  longing. It would serve no purpose to prolong the agony, better to accept an offer

  that meant Iscatya would be thwarted, than suffer endless needling at her reluctance

  to choose a mate. Arriving with the Bard would raise a few eyebrows, but at least he had

  agreed to become part of the party instead of sitting on the side-lines. Turi may not be

  happy that he had an extra rival for her attention, his problem, not hers.

  Teague wasn’t a contender, he was an add-on. Not quite a friend, more like a persistent

  itch. All this passed through a chaotic mind in seconds as Alex hefted the tote bag

  in gloved hands rather than throw it over her shoulder. A burn she could without.

  “Fine…” Teague reached out one hand to lay long fingers on a slim shoulder, lilac

  eyes darkening to deep amethyst, a twitch of a smile tugged at firm lips.

  “You will not fall over…?” The first time he had transported a little human, her body

  rebelled at the dissolution of molecules. “Mayhap it would be less stressful, were my

  arms around you…” Sapphire eyes flew wide a gasp trembled on luscious lips.

  The Bard soaked up the surprise on a beautiful face, the hunger in his heart to be the

  one who won a lovely creature, hinted at an onset of the mating urge. In all a troubled

  existence, he had never felt as alive, did not know how to ensure the treasure of a true

  mate could be contrived. He would watch, wait and learn…

  “Just catch me at the other end…” Alex wanted to be in his arms, but not out of disgust

  that she was a pathetic human who couldn’t cope with the mess of translocation.

  Shit, out of the frying pan into the fire… If wishes were kisses, she’d be drowning in lust.