by Leia Shaw
“He’ll be okay with it,” she answered optimistically. “And why do you insist on calling me Aila?”
“Because it’s as beautiful a name as you are,” he said with a sexy smirk. “And it’s your true name. The one your parents gave you. Would you like to protest any other names while you’re at it? You don’t like pet names or your real name. Would you like me to call you ‘female’ instead? How about ‘woman’?” Sly eyes sparkled with mischief. “‘Angel face’?”
She raised a brow full of attitude. “Aila is fine.” And for some reason, it felt comfortable on her.
“As for your first statement, Aila,” he said with a twitch of his lips, “it is against supernatural law to tell humans about our existence. So telling your boyfriend you are fae is out of the question.”
“Then I won’t.” She raised her chin in firm resolution. “Like you said, no one will notice.”
“The general public won’t notice, querida, but your boyfriend will.”
Her life was taking an unexpected turn too quickly for her to adjust the wheel. Denial seemed a valid strategy at the moment.
She turned her head from Marcelo’s gaze and stared out the window instead. “I’ll figure something out,” she whispered. It was her life, damn it. She wasn’t giving it up that easily. She’d visit Sage until whoever was chasing her stopped. Then she was going back to her normal life – Christmas elf ears and all!
Marcelo must have sensed she was done with that particular conversation, and he wisely shifted topics. “Shall I tell you about the dark fae?”
She nodded.
“The dark fae were the first to become what they are. Created by voodoo priests, which worried the gods. Voodoo can be dangerous and many sorcerers have abused their powers, practicing dark arts, creating things that were unnatural. So the gods created the light fae. The Seelie court. They’re animal spirits too created by the gods to monitor the dark fae. But the Seelie have interpreted that to mean they should hunt them down and enslave them. Of course the Unseelie weren’t going to submit to that. And the two courts have been warring for centuries.”
“And I’m dark fae?” she asked. That couldn’t be right. She wasn’t evil.
Marcelo looked her in the eye. “You are.”
“But I’m not evil.”
He smiled wickedly. “Maybe you are and just don’t know it yet.”
She scowled and crossed her arms. “I’m not,” she huffed. Very mature.
His chest rumbled with a dark chuckle, which only made her scowl deepen. “Of course not, querida.”
“Stop calling me that!” She clasped her hands together before she could strike out at him with her claws. Marcelo looked like he was choking back a laugh. She growled at her inability to control her new body. After taking some deep breaths to calm her rising temper, she asked, “So the Unseelie are the good guys?
Did she really just say “good guys”? Get a grip. This isn’t a 90’s Saturday afternoon special.
Taking his eyes off the road, Marcelo pinned her with a know-it-all glare. “When have you ever known good and evil to be that simple?”
She sighed. “Never.”
“The Seelie truly believe it’s the god’s will that they keep the Unseelie in line. The Unseelie are the masters at evasion and defense. But now they are building an army, readying for war. They tire of running and hiding. They thirst for blood. The fae may look innocent and attractive but don’t let them fool you. They are vicious and cruel and they don’t listen to reason. Centuries of built up hate has blocked the ability for either side to see things clearly. That’s where you come in.”
“Me?”
“From what I’ve heard, you are half Seelie fae and half Unseelie. No one knows how you were conceived but a prophecy says you will unite the two sides. They will stop warring and become one, because of you.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“I’m not.”
She gave a short bark of laughter. It sounded slightly delirious even to her. “Fate has a twisted sense of humor.”
“Indeed.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I spoke with James last night. He has a friend undercover in the Sorcery Counsel. When I heard they are looking for a fae woman lost in America with hidden fae traits, I knew it was you. James and Sage both agree.”
“But what do the sorcerers want with me? They’re not a part of the fae war, are they?” She was too numb to do anything but ask questions. Later she’d sort it all out. Maybe even pass out a few times once the shock wore off.
Marcelo opened his mouth to speak then shut it again. His forehead creased and his hands tightened on the wheel.
“Just say it, Marcelo. I need to know.”
He sighed. “Then Sorcerers of Wales have been at war with the Underworld for five hundred years. The previous King instigated it. He wanted their land, which is rich with magic. Since your sister’s taken over she’s tried to smooth things out. But it’s too late. They already have a vendetta against the Underworld. Tension between the two realms is escalating. There will be an epic battle soon and…” Her face must have shown her fear because Marcelo shut his mouth and shook his head when he looked at her.
“Keep going,” she said softly.
He gave her a somber look then continued. “If the sorcerers have you in custody they can trade you with the Seelie for their alliance in the war against the Underworld. The Seelie fae…they don’t exactly want to be united. They’re too pious to see the truth of their actions. So the best way for them to stop the prophecy from coming true…”
Is to kill me. He didn’t need to say it.
“This is a fragile time for our world. The air is rife with tension. The thirst for blood rises. Doors between realms are unstable. We’re living on the edge of a knife. One soft breeze and we’ll slip.” Marcelo stared out the windshield, his voice low and grave. Even with the sun shining brightly around them, his dismal prediction made her shudder. If this were a movie, there would be ominous background music while dark rain poured down around them. “War is coming. And it’s going to be a bloody one.”
She felt like a deer in headlights. She must have looked even worse. He turned his head to regard her with a smile. “So. Where do you want to eat?”
“Marcelo,” she attempted to hold back the rising panic, “you have to tell them fate got it wrong. That I’m not…I can’t…I –”
“Listen to me. Your life is still in your hands. Your future still belongs to you. Just because there’s a rumor of some far-fetched ancient prophecy, does not mean you are obligated or even destined to fill it. Do you understand me?”
The familiar squeeze in her chest warned her of what was coming. Her heart thundered in her ears. Oh shit! There goes my sanity. Her chest tightened more and more with each breath. Marcelo’s worried expression didn’t help.
“Aila,” he said. “You’ve got to calm down.”
She gave him a disgruntled expression. As if I don’t already know that! Her hands clamped over her mouth to steady her breathing. But it didn’t work. She was already halfway to a panic attack.
Marcelo dropped a warm hand onto her knee. “Don’t worry about any of that now. Let’s just focus on getting you to Sage and you can figure it out together.”
She nodded but still her breath came unevenly.
“Aila,” he said in a low, hypnotic voice. “Focus on me. Don’t think about your breathing. Don’t think about the fae. Don’t think about anything but my voice. Can you do that?”
He sounded calm. Reassuring. Confident. His deep, rich voice was pure seduction. Yeah, she could do that. She nodded.
“Do you know what a vampire’s favorite kind of dog is?”
Puzzled, she looked up at him.
“A bloodhound.” The boyish grin he gave her was almost as charming as the pitiful attempt at a joke.
She couldn’t stop a strangled laugh. “That was the worst joke ever,” she told him, lowering her shaky ha
nds. But it worked. Her body was still suffering the after-shocks but her breath was almost steady. Who would have thought a vampire would make a good therapist?
Marcelo pulled into a secluded parking spot at the city mall. “I have worse jokes than that,” he told her, “but I’ll save them for your next panic attack.”
She chuckled. God help her, she might actually be starting to like this guy.
Then he pulled out a piece of rope. Her heart slammed into her chest. Had she spoken too soon? Before she could ask what it was for, he had her wrists locked in one hand while he tied the rope around them.
“What are you doing?” she yelled, horrified.
“You’ve already run from me once and you won’t come inside. What am I to do, Aila?” It was a question but he’d already decided the answer. Tie her to the steering wheel!
“I didn’t run from you.” She yanked her arms to get free but he easily held her still.
“You left the car when I told you to stay. And to get drunk at a bar, no less. You’ve proven that I cannot trust you.”
“I won’t leave. I promise.”
“And you expect me to believe that?”
“Yes!”
“Aila,” he said in a low voice, “I’m sorry but you’ve left me no choice. This is why I told you it would be best for you to obey me.”
Panic welled in her chest and her breath quickened.
“Don’t start that again. It won’t change my mind.”
“I’ll come with you,” she spilled before she could stop herself. “Please. Just don’t leave me here defenseless.”
He looked into her eyes for one long unreadable moment. “Done,” he said then unwound the binds.
“What?”
“It’s about time you moved past this. I’m just glad you brought it up first.” He jumped out of the car then sped around to open her door.
Wait, wait, wait. She hadn’t really thought this through. But he had already pulled her from the car.
“Wait!” she pleaded. “I don’t know. I may have changed my mind.”
Marcelo tucked her small body into his side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She felt just a little bit safer being in his embrace. But still, she dragged her feet as he tugged her along through the parking lot.
“You and me, querida. We’re going to get through this together.”
For a moment, she actually believed him.
“Now, what is it you’re afraid of?”
“Umm…” They stepped through the door and entered a department store. Her gaze darted back and forth looking for exits, watching people frantically, searching for invisible threats.
“Aila.” Marcelo’s voice pulling her back to reality. “What are you afraid of?”
“Umm…”
“You said that already.”
“People. Looking at me.”
“No worries there. They’re all looking at me.” A dazzling grin reached his face as he gazed down at her. “It’s my hot body and devilish good looks.”
She managed a strangled snort. “You got the devil part right.”
He nodded slowly. “Ah, so that’s the trick.”
“What?”
“If I keep you insulting me, you forget your fears.”
“I haven’t forgotten. I’m shaking like a leaf, if you haven’t noticed.”She stuck out one trembling hand.
Without slowing his steps he grabbed her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. “Then tell me, cosita, what else are you afraid of?” He kept hold of her hand, confidently, securely, and she was suddenly more aware of that one kissed spot than anything else around her.
“Umm…I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”
Marcelo pushed her along, his strong arm holding her close but not letting her drag her feet anymore. They moved quickly through the aisles, getting farther and farther away from the exit. Her breathing started to shallow.
“Aila,” he said, his voice taking on an alluring quality. “Focus on my voice. Look at the floor if you have to. One foot in front of the other.”
Yes, okay, I can do that. The floor. It had a square pattern. She focused on stepping over the cracks as they walked. “I’m scared someone’s going to ask me a question and I won’t know the answer. And I’m scared I’m going to knock over a display or bump into something delicate and break it. Then everyone will look at me and laugh.” She watched the lines move under her feet. “I’m scared I’m going to get lost. Or there will be an emergency and I won’t know what to do. Like the fire alarm or…or…a terrorist attack.”
Marcelo stopped abruptly then quieted her rambling with a finger under her chin. He pulled her head up to meet his gaze. “We all have fears, Aila. But the question is, how long are you going to let them run your life?”
She raised her brows as his words sunk in. “You have fears?”
He looked hesitant, but answered, “Anyone who has something to lose has something to fear.”
“What do you –”
“Another time, querida.” With a firm shove she was in an aisle surrounded by women’s clothing. “Now, we shop.” He grinned, perfect white teeth glinting against his russet skin. It made her smile, though her heart still pounded in fear.
Aila perused the racks, fingering the garments, a gratified smile on her face. She kept one hand locked around Marcelo’s large wrist. He’d glanced down at it twice and she’d thought he meant to pull away, until she saw his lips curl into a small smile. She knew it was silly, but for some reason, holding onto him made her feel better. Like she was keeping him from running off without her.
“I haven’t been shopping in so long,” she said.
Marcelo furrowed his brows and turned to study her. “How do you get clothes then?”
“Boyfriend. Whoever it is at the time. Or online.”
His voice was sharp. “Exactly how many boyfriends have you had?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been with Jimmy for a while though. He has good taste in clothing. And he tolerates my limited diet.” Her hand brushed up against a silky dress. She smiled inside. She could get used to this shopping business.
At once Marcelo’s body language changed. Relaxed and content before, now his muscles were tense, his large body invading her space. She had to strain her neck to look up at him.
With an accusing expression, he said, “Let me get this straight. You use men to buy you things you need because of your…”
“Disability? Yes. But it’s not as if they know it.”
“What would happen if you didn’t have a boyfriend? No one to take care of you?”
She blinked. Why did he look so angry? And why was it any of his business? “I don’t know,” she admitted, but with pride still in her voice. “It’s never happened.”
“So when you break up with one…”
“I find someone to take his place.”
“And do you sleep with them to keep them happy?”
She gasped. “I’m not a prostitute!”
His eyes turned fierce with an emotion she couldn’t decipher then he turned around and started pulling clothing off the racks.
“I don’t know why you’re judging me,” she said following closely on his heels. “It’s none of your business anyway.”
He didn’t even turn to face her as he combed through the racks. “It’s immoral,” he said half-heartedly. “Using men to meet your needs.”
“Immoral?” she yelled, surprising herself with her boldness. “This from a vampire from the Underworld!”
He spun around so fast she flinched then took a step back. Instead of being angry, like she’d thought, he smirked and said, “My little hot-headed fae is back.” Then he stroked her cheek with a knuckle. She scowled but didn’t pull away. “I’m not judging you, Aila. Gods know I’m not the best example of a moral life. I just think you can do better than living like a leech off men.”
“Funny choice of words for someone like you,” she muttered, though she felt the
anger recede with his words.
He thrust an arm full of clothing at her then spun her around and pushed her to the back of the store. They entered a separate room with a row of stalls.
“What am I supposed to do here?” she asked.
“Try them on.”
She looked at the stalls then back to Marcelo. “By myself?”
He grinned wickedly. “Unless you want me to help you.”
She frowned. “Can’t we just buy them?”
“No. You’re going to try each and every one of them on, then walk out here and show me. It’s the only thing that makes shopping with a woman worthwhile. And since I’m paying for the clothes, I’m taking my due.”
Ballsy! Before she could stutter through a response he had pushed her through one of the doors and shut it behind her. She scanned the stall then placed the clothes on the hook. At least there would be no one watching her. Unless….she spotted what looked like a video camera on the ceiling. Oh God!
“Aila,” Marcelo warned from outside. “Don’t make me come in there. Get going.”
She shuddered at his tone. What would it be like if he broke through the door mid-dressing? Would he ogle her body? Would she like it? The rush of heat flooding her core answered that question. Get a grip on your libido, she scolded herself, shaking away her lustful thoughts. You have a boyfriend!
After she tried on the first outfit – a pair of plain khaki hiking shorts and pink tank top with a built-in bra, she looked in the mirror, turning this way and that. She had to admit it was gratifying to see herself in the clothing before making a purchase.
Marcelo’s voice snapped her away from the moment. “Come, Aila. Let me see.”
She rolled her eyes then stepped out of the dressing room, knowing full well he would just come in if she didn’t.
His gaze raked over her body, intensifying with each second. Instead of feeling self-conscious, she was actually aroused by this bold show of sensuality. Her cheeks flushed and her throat suddenly felt dry. He didn’t say anything, just nodded in what she guessed was approval.
She spun around, embarrassed by the warmth between her legs. Right before she’d gone back into the dressing room, Marcelo’s eyes had locked onto hers, sparkling with a hint of wicked desire. It was as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. And what she was thinking was so not suitable for a public dressing room. She almost collapsed on the floor when she shut the door behind her. But she knew, in only a moment, Marcelo would be demanding another show.
