by Ann Gimpel
“That’s right,” She nodded. “I’d forgotten about the unicorns. Well then, I’ll do more hunting for the rift, and we can talk tomorrow after I’ve staked out a new place to live.”
I didn’t plan my next words; they popped out on their own. “Would you like to accompany me?” I asked, keeping my tone formal.
She swiveled to face me, eagerness spilling from her green eyes. “Hell yeah, I would, but doesn’t it break a bunch of rules? I can hide what I am from whomever we run into, but the land will know I don’t belong there.”
I met her forthright gaze. “You deserve time in Faery as much as anyone else with Fae blood. Or Sidhe blood for that matter. I’ve had time to think about it, and I’m appalled at our archaic rules that have kept you out. As you mentioned, you’re scarcely responsible for your parents’ poor choices.”
“There’s more,” she prodded, and I remembered her proclivity for living in my mind.
I stood and drew her to her feet, circling my arms around her. “There is, indeed. I don’t want to be separated from you. Not quite yet.” Maybe not ever, but I wasn’t ready to give voice to that part. We might be working together, but our alliance was fragile. She’d been on the run all her life and probably valued freedom above all else.
“We should go,” she murmured.
“We will.” I smiled down at her and crushed my mouth over hers because I couldn’t resist the temptation of her full lips a moment longer.
7
Chapter Seven, Dariyah
I’d hoped we’d be quick enough to catch Oberon. We hadn’t been. Not that I wanted to go another round with him, but Cyn deserved a chance to challenge the Fae king. Could he force him to back down? I had no idea. I didn’t know much about the actual structure of Faery other than that it was ruled by a court. Whether every representative had an equal voice, or whether they could be overruled in the blink of an eye was an unknown.
Somehow I couldn’t see Oberon agreeing to anything he didn’t support merely because a preponderance of his subjects wanted things to roll that way. When I’d quizzed Mother about Faery, she generally demurred. It made sense since the land was barred to me. Or so we’d thought. I’d planned on spending what was left of the night hunting for a way to access the rift, but that was before Cyn invited me to Faery.
I still couldn’t quite believe he’d done that. Neither could I believe I was cradled in his arms kissing him. The last time had been a spontaneous gesture on my part. Because he cut such a stunning figure, I’d given in to the heat and need and hunger crackling through me like an out-of-control bonfire. The same desperate craving filled me now, sparking from our smushed-together mouths to every cell in my body.
I arched into him, my back bending like a bow as I sought to eradicate every stray air molecule separating us. The closer I got, the more intense the feel of acres of muscles pressing against me. My nipples peaked with lust, and I straddled one of his legs, forcing the core of me against his thigh. All the moisture in my body headed south; my sex slicked with desire. Cyn’s arms tightened around me, and he lashed his tongue back and forth, painting the inside of my mouth. I sparred with him until we traded as he welcomed my probing tongue. His lips were firm, a sensory joy when he changed up our kiss from bites to sucks to nibbles to tongue-action, and then back again in an endless circle of delight.
Moaning and rocking against him, I gave in to sensation crashing through me. His hands gripped my ass, and his cock radiated heat, its hardness pressing into my belly. I wanted that cock with a singlemindedness that shocked me. No stranger to sex, it had always been more of a wham-bam-thank-you-now-go-away proposition. Not the lush, magical event unfolding around me.
I’d twisted the fabric of his shirt in my hands as I grappled with getting him as close as I could. In the distant recesses of my mind, I knew we should get moving. We both had things to do, and if this pony got any farther down the track, we’d be here for hours.
Even knowing that, I snaked a hand between us and curved it around his cock. Long, thick, and harder than hard, its proportions tantalized me. I imagined how it would stretch me, plumb me. Awash in sensual imagery of him on top of me, behind me, beneath me, in my mouth, I rocked faster, stoking my lust on his thigh. He made a low, guttural, very male sound that reminded me of a lion stalking his mate. I loved that noise. It made me hotter than hell.
He jammed a hand into the junction between my legs, fingers rubbing me through my pants. I wanted him with a singlemindedness that blinded me, but not like this. We deserved a bed. I wanted to see him naked, not rely on my imagination to guess what he looked like. I was panting, heart beating so hard it wanted to jump out of my chest. The answering throb of his pulse danced beneath my mouth as I strung kisses up and down his neck.
Lifting my mouth from his flesh was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I moved my hand from his cock and placed it over the one between my legs to still his busy fingers. “Not like this,” I rasped, amazed I could match thoughts to words.
He focused his gorgeous gold-and-silver eyes with their rich copper centers on me. “Anything you want, darling. Just tell me.”
Nodding, I swallowed around a throat that had gone dry with desire. “We, you and me, have important tasks to accomplish. I want you. Damn, but I want you. If we remain here, though, we won’t leave for hours.”
Cyn touched the corner of my mouth with a finger. “Ah, the voice of reason. You’re right, of course, but you’re delectable, tantalizing.” He cupped the side of my face. “Not much diverts me from duty. You’ve accomplished the impossible.”
I felt my face warm; the compliment pleased me. I hadn’t been the recipient of very many of them. “Can I sign up for a rain check?” My nether regions tingled; I ached to leap back into his arms.
He nodded. “Lots of rain checks.”
“I’ll hold you to it. Fae promises are binding.”
“If I ever meet that mother of yours, I’ll make sure she knows she taught you the important things.”
The time in his arms had blasted through my usual barriers, leaving me far less guarded than normal. When he mentioned Mother, it reminded me how much I missed her, and I blinked back tears. I turned away, but he was only inches from me. Even if he’d been on the far side of the fire pit, I had a feeling not much escaped him.
He turned my face toward him again and traced the track of a tear down one cheek. “Did I say something wrong?”
I shook my head. “Not at all. I miss her. It’s been a long, long time since we parted ways. She made me promise it would be forever when I left. I understood why we couldn’t see each other, but I never truly accepted it. If I made a bunch of trips back and forth, all of which would require a hefty output of magic, someone would have noticed sooner or later. And then she’d have to run again.”
He’d glued a thousand percent of his focus directly on me. It felt both discomforting and welcome, wrapped up in a bewildering mélange of confusion. No one had paid me any heed since I left the small world Mother and I called home. Nor had I wanted them to. The less attention turned my way, the less I had to worry someone would catch a glimpse beneath my glamour.
“The place you settled, was it difficult to find?” he asked.
“Very. I was five when we finally quit scuttling from place to place.”
He traced the line of my cheekbone with a thumb. “She must have loved you very much.”
“What an odd thing to say. Of course, she did. She was my mother.”
Cyn shook his head. “She is far from the first woman faced with the prospect of a mixed breed child. Nearly all of them make a different choice.”
Hearing him say that was unnerving. I’d assumed many magical women sought refuge away from Faery—or other magical worlds—to rear their hybrid babies.
“What is it?” His hand still curved around the side of my face, and he smoothed locks of hair out of the way.
“I don’t know. Nothing. Everything. I get the part about fee
ling an immediate alteration when life begins within you. It never occurred to me anyone would…” Finding words became a struggle.
“The price for such a child is death.” Cyn’s voice was gentle but his message wasn’t. “Permanent death, not banishment to the Dreaming. Your mother was courageous, dedicated to living life on her own terms.”
A corner of my mouth twitched into half a smile. “That’s Mom all right. I sometimes prayed to the goddess to gift me with half of her strength.”
“I’d say your wishes were heard.”
A surge of power wafted near us, the whiskey and wildflower scent heady. Cyn wrapped both arms firmly around me, holding me next to him as his travel spell swept us away. I’d meant to explore a little to see exactly where we’d been. I could still do that, but I suspected it was the hinterlands in northern Nevada or maybe southern Oregon.
“I’ll bring us out in my rooms in Dubrova Castle,” Cyn said. “It will give you a private place to make certain your disguise is well in place. And it will provide an opportunity to absorb your first taste of Faery. It’s overwhelming after time on Earth.”
“Overwhelming, how?”
“Everything is more intense. Tastes. Smells. Colors are sharper. Emotions more concentrated. The newness of it all will wear off quickly, but it’s best if your initial moments aren’t marred by curious passersby who want to know all about you.”
“I guess they’d know I wasn’t from Faery, huh?”
Cyn chuckled. “Aye, they’d know, right enough. The land puts her mark on everyone there.”
My excitement crumpled. “But not me. She’ll never include me.”
He stroked my back with gentle hands, rubbing tension away. “I don’t know. Times are changing, perhaps rather radically. Let’s take this a step at a time.”
“Won’t be hard to do. Up until a short while ago, I’d written off Faery. I’ll be satisfied by a visit, no matter how brief it is, because I never expected to get even that much.”
I felt the transition point in his spell when we passed from Earth into Faery. Felt is a massive understatement. A barrage of what I can only label as belongingness slammed into me. A sense of rightness, of finally being where I’d been born to be began in my toes and raced through me like high voltage energy. Moments later, a large room took shape around us. Set into a corner of the building, it had banks of leaded-glass windows on two sides. Muted light streamed through, illuminating a quietly understated masculine environment.
The space was neat. Nothing strewn on the bed or floor, which suggested Cyn put his toys away. And his clothing. Or maybe he had servants to cater to his every need. The concept was so foreign to me, I shoved it aside.
A massive four-poster bed with richly carved head and footboards sat against a wall facing the windows. It was covered with expensive-looking fur throws that had to be real. Where would someone come up with plastic or polyester in a place like Faery? Dressers and armoires crafted from matching wood were scattered about. A desk was tucked into the windowed corner, but I didn’t see a computer monitor. Maybe he got by with a laptop. A door at one end suggested either a closet or a bathroom, and every free bit of wall space was lined with overly full bookshelves.
“Do my quarters pass inspection?” Cyn’s question held soft humor.
My cheeks grew warm. “I wasn’t meaning to come off as a house monitor,” I murmured. “It’s a lovely room, cozy and habitable. Where is your computer?”
“No Wi-Fi in Faery. Nothing electronic here. The chips or whatever they’re made with don’t play nicely with this much magic.”
Interesting. I hadn’t known. Meanwhile, the overwhelming sense of coming home had done nothing but grow stronger. I wished I could let Mother know I’d finally crossed into Faery, but recognized it for foolishness. She’d view what I was doing as a totally avoidable risk. I could see her shaking a finger in my face and telling me I was an idiot.
Mages here would see her blood within me, and then her ugly secret would be out. If she didn’t already have a price on her head, she would once people got a gander at me. I swallowed hard, determined to remain deeply hidden. This side trip had been nothing but sheer indulgence on my part. I’d be damned if my stupidity came back to bite Mother.
“Would you like something to drink?” Cyn asked.
“Sure. Maybe just water.”
He crossed the room and pushed the door open. When he emerged, he carried a cut-crystal decanter filled to the brim with water. So I’d been right about the door leading to a bathroom. Taking the glass from him, I drank and drank. I’d known I was thirsty, but not how thirsty.
A sense of peace like nothing I’d ever known before sank into my bones. I closed my eyes for a moment and sighed with pleasure. When I opened them, I said, “You don’t need to babysit me. They’re probably waiting for you somewhere.”
“Everyone is downstairs in the courtyard holding a wake for the unicorn.”
Guilt pricked. “Please. Don’t let me hold you up.”
He extended a hand, but I shook my head. “No. This is between you and your people. I don’t want to dilute anyone’s mourning with curiosity as they wonder who the fuck I am.”
“All right. I’ll return for you presently. Don’t leave without me.”
“How about if I ward myself?”
“No such thing as a ward people can’t see through in Faery. This isn’t anything like Earth where you can conceal yourself in perpetuity if you don’t want to be noticed.”
“I’ll behave. Promise. You run along.” I made shooing motions. The sooner he dealt with the unicorn problem, the sooner we could get back to the real work, which was locating the breach. I didn’t let myself think about being alone with him, or the bedroom that carried his delightful scent. Maybe later, after we’d figured a few things out, we could steal a few moments to ourselves. Until then we couldn’t afford to waste any time.
I felt the bite of his magic as he probed deep, maybe seeing if I was being truthful. He waved a hand and a platter of cut up cheese and bread materialized. “Help yourself. I’ll return as soon as I can.” He cocked his head to one side, eyeing me intently.
“Is everything all right?” Worry ate at me that maybe he’d seen something, and I couldn’t remain after all.
He nodded. “More than all right. Faery has marked you as hers.”
Had that been the cascade of rightness I’d sensed. “But how?” I stammered.
“How does anything happen here? Back soon.”
I expected him to walk out the door; instead he vanished. One minute he was there smiling at me, the next he was gone. I could still smell his unique scent, feel his energy signature, but he’d left. Rather like with the water, I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I started layering cheese slices on fresh-baked bread and eating them as quickly as they were assembled. Soon, only the platter remained. It was crafted of bone china so fine it was nearly translucent, and I picked it up, marveling at the workmanship.
Was everything in Faery a class act? It certainly appeared so. Maybe there were ghetto areas where the less fortunate congregated, but I doubted it. Not much that magic couldn’t fix or buy or change. And everyone in Faery boasted some type of power.
Walking to the windows, I looked out at lush vegetation. It stretched in all directions outside the wall that circled the castle. What had Cyn called it? Dubrova. That was it. Did the name have a special meaning? I tugged on a sash, and one of the windows swung outward. I inhaled deeply. Faery smelled like green growing things and a restless sea mixed into one. The effect was fresh, pure, invigorating. There was at least one ocean here and several lakes, streams, and pools. Mother had told me about them before she decided talking about Faery wasn’t the best idea. Why build desire for a place I could never visit?
I itched to wander about, but I’d given my word. The high, sweet notes of a flute caught my attention. Below me, a procession of nymphs, satyrs, Fae, Sidhe, and unicorns walked in a solemn line followed by ma
ny smaller animals. Birds circled overhead: hawks and owls and songbirds. Toward the end of the procession, four unicorns carted a bier suspended from their necks by golden cords. The dead unicorn had been lashed to it.
I couldn’t help myself. I reached out with magic, determined to read the last of the creature’s thoughts before it succumbed. Enough angst scoured the crowd, I didn’t believe anyone would notice my actions. One of the pallbearers neighed and stamped his feet. The others shushed him. I whipped my head inside, but didn’t shut the window. I was still connected to the corpse, searching for clues that might help Cynwrigg.
He’d offered me a boon with this unexpected jaunt into Faery. I’m all about paying my debts, and maybe I’d come up with something useful. I cringed as the unicorn’s last moments played out before me. I was leaning out the window again to make certain I didn’t miss anything. She’d been walking along, minding her business and thinking about a particularly rich patch of pasture she’d been saving for herself when the other unicorn had trotted up beside her. She’d been glad to see Soir, and they’d chatted of this and that. Something dark and opaque settled over them, forcing them to halt. Rona, the dead one, had panicked. Soir dropped into some kind of trance. Slowly, deliberately, she’d turned and driven her horn into Rona. Because she hadn’t taken time to probe, I assumed whoever was calling the shots controlled her strike.
Once Rona was on the ground, lifeblood draining onto the ground, the curtain had lifted. Soir wore such a shocked look, I felt sorry for her. Falling to her knees, she’d settled magic around Rona and tried to halt the hemorrhaging. If Rona’s magic had been intact, she’d probably still be alive, but I saw it float away in a golden ball while Soir bent over her, long neck curved in determination and hoofs splayed over her friend’s inert form. When she understood all was lost, she’d bugled madly, neighing and stamping until creatures streamed out of the thick foliage to investigate.
I shifted focus, backpedaled, and attempted to track the source of the insidious casting that had snared the unicorns. No luck. Curling one hand into a fist, I punched the air and dismantled my spell. Goddess be damned. Evil walked in Faery. Where would it strike next? More pertinently, how come no one else had thought to pull her last thoughts from the dead unicorn?
