“We all need a vacation,” I countered. “Look at Herne and Ember—and Angel, losing Rafé. The past year or so has been one big blur of stress and danger.” Letting out a sigh, I leaned against the massive oak and crossed my arms, blinking as the snowflakes drifted down to get caught in my hair and my lashes. “Maybe I do need to get away.”
“Whenever you want, love,” Kipa said. “You don’t have to solve everybody else’s problems, you know. Vixen can find someone to take care of Lenny—”
“No, they can’t. You and I both know that any typical medium wouldn’t stand a chance against the aztrophyllia. It would probably go after them as soon as it killed Lenny. How can I turn away when someone’s life is on the line and I’m the only one who has the knowledge on how to kill it? And the seal that we need to attach to him so it doesn’t come back? Maybe you could find a strong-enough witch to cast it, but chances are it would take too long and he’d end up dying, anyway. I made a promise to Vixen to help if I could. I don’t break my promises.”
Kipa pulled me into his arms and I burrowed my face against his shoulder as he hugged me to his chest. “And that’s one of the many things I love about you. You don’t flinch when it comes to doing what you feel is right.” He leaned down and kissed my nose, then my lips. “Raven…” There was a strange light in his eyes.
“What?”
He stared at me for another moment, before shaking his head. “Nothing…or rather, not now. But know that I’m so grateful Fate brought you into my life.”
“Me too—you,” I said, rising on my tiptoes for another kiss.
“Let’s go home,” he said, gently pushing me back. “Give me your hand.”
“That’s not necessary. I go through the portals pretty routinely, you know.”
“I know. But give me your hand.”
And so, hand in hand, once again we stepped through the portal, heading home.
* * *
The snow on the other side of the portal had been falling steadily as well, and it was now six inches deep, but that was a far cry from the mounds we had trudged through in Annwn. We hoofed it to my car and settled in, and I turned up the heat. Even with my enchanted jacket, the trip had left me cold inside and out.
“First things first,” I said. “We have to stop by Llew’s shop so I can pick up the ingredients to create wards against astral creatures. What time is it?”
Kipa glanced at the car clock. “It’s nearly seven—Llew closes up at five, doesn’t he?”
“Six. All right, can you call him and put him on speaker for me?”
Kipa picked up my phone from where I had placed it in the cup holder. He searched through the contacts until he found Llew and dialed, then punched the speaker option.
“Hey Raven, what’s up?” Llew asked. I could hear the sounds of people talking in the background.
“Llew, is there any chance you could meet me at the shop tonight so I can do some necessary shopping? I’d wait till tomorrow, but this is rather urgent.”
Pans clanged in the background, and I heard someone—I thought it might be Jordan, Llew’s husband—say something. And he didn’t sound happy.
“Hold on,” Llew said. “Muting for a moment.”
“Nope, it’s not going to happen tonight,” I said as Kipa continued to hold the phone out. “Put us on mute too.”
“Done, and what do you mean?”
“That was Jordan complaining in the background.”
Jordan was nice enough, but at times he had issues with me. I had the feeling he felt secretly threatened by my friendship with Llew, and he wasn’t above pointing out how much time Llew and I spent together. I had been walking a tightrope for over a year, and recently, I had discreetly pulled back, focusing on visiting more with Ember and Angel so that Llew’s marriage wouldn’t be put to the test.
“You’ve got to be kidding? Llew’s gay. You’re not a guy. What does Jordan have to be threatened by?”
“I don’t know, but for some reason, he’s insecure. I guarantee you when—”
“Raven?” Llew came back on the speaker. “Are you there?”
I unmuted. “Yeah, we’re here, Llew.”
“I don’t think I can make it down there tonight. You have a key—pop in and take what you need. Leave a note if you don’t have cash at the moment and you can pay me later.”
What I needed was Llew’s expertise about wards, but I wasn’t going to pressure him. “Never mind. I’ll see you later.”
“I’m sorry, Raven,” Llew sounded apologetic.
The last thing I wanted was for him to feel guilty. “It’s okay, everything’s fine, Llew.”
As we headed home, I decided that I could tinker around and figure out something that would work. When we pulled into the driveway, I noticed the lights were on, but figured Raj had decided to turn them on. He couldn’t work switches on lamps, but he could work a light switch on the wall. But as we headed up the sidewalk and around the corner to the walkway along the house, I paused.
“Somebody’s here.” I glanced at Kipa. “Someone’s in there. I know it.”
“I’ll check. You wait here,” he said, motioning for me to move farther down the sidewalk. “Get your keys ready.”
I nervously palmed the keys to my car and took a deep breath as I steeled myself to run. Time seemed to stretch out as he edged his way to the door and cracked it open. That was another thing—the door should have been locked, but Kipa opened it without his keys. I tried to keep my nerves in check, praying that Raj was okay.
Please, Great Cerridwen, let Raj be okay—please protect him…
All of a sudden, I heard laughter from inside and Kipa peeked around the door.
“It’s your mother—she’s home early.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Why couldn’t she have texted me?” I said, marching inside.
“I did,” Phasmoria said, standing near the sofa. “You didn’t answer.”
I pulled out my phone and glanced at it. “Nothing—see?” Then it hit me. “Oh, wait. I was in Annwn—of course your text wouldn’t go through while I was over there.” My irritation vanished into intense relief. “Never mind.”
She grinned. “That’s always your answer when you yell at me for no good reason. So, what were you doing over in Annwn?”
“Let me change out of these clothes and I’ll tell you. Meanwhile, would you call for a pizza? I’m hungry. Though compared to Dek’s lunch, a pizza doesn’t sound quite as appetizing.” My stomach rumbled and I rolled my eyes. “But I guess it sounds good to my empty gullet.”
“What do you want on it?” she asked as Kipa.
I tucked Dek’s book away in a fire safe in my office, then headed into my bedroom to change.
“Extra cheese, pepperoni, sausage, ham, pineapple, mushrooms, and make it a thin crust. Order two, because Raj will likely want a piece.”
I shut the door behind us and began stripping. “I’m going to take a quick shower. I’m chilled through.”
“You want company?” Kipa asked, arching his eyebrows.
I swatted at him. “Shoo, fly. It sounds delightful, but I need food more.”
“I can fill you up,” he said, slipping over to press himself against my naked body. The feel of his skin on mine made me melt, and he was hard against my thigh. I groaned and turned to him, half lifting my leg so he could slip inside me. He lifted me up, carrying me to the bed, where he laid me down and I wrapped my legs around his waist. As he reached down with one hand to finger me, I pressed my breasts against his chest and let out a soft moan as he stoked the raging fire that built between us.
The chemistry had been there from the beginning, and had grown over the months we had been together. We worked magic with our bodies and our passion.
My breath quickened as Kipa slipped his arms around me and stood, my legs still wrapped around him. He was still deep within me and he carried me into the shower. I reached out to turn on the water as I pressed my lips to his. While the
water warmed, he sat me on the sink and stepped away, his eyes glistening as they turned ever so slightly topaz. He was as wolf as he could get without shifting.
“I wish you could feel what it’s like to make love as a wolf, my love,” he whispered.
“I wish I could too,” I said, gasping as he trailed a finger down my chest, tracing the swirls that covered my torso.
And then the water was warm and he took my hand, leading me into the shower. There, I pressed my breasts against the shower wall as the warm water streamed over us, and he began lathering my back with the shower gel. The scent of freshly washed fir and cedar streamed over us, along with hints of rose and peach and vanilla. Kipa lathered me up, every inch, rinsing his fingers before he slid them inside me. Then he turned me around and washed my breasts and stomach before kneeling in front of me.
“Spread your legs,” he whispered.
I obeyed, and he pressed his lips and tongue to me, flicking lightly as he unleashed the wild child in me. I began to rub my breasts, circling my nipples as he concentrated his focus. The water streamed down on us like some jungle love scene from a movie, and before I realized it, I came in a sudden, sharp jolt. I gasped, plastering my arms against the slick walls of the shower. Kipa let out a growl, his eyes shining, and I lowered myself to the floor, the water beating down on my back, as he knelt behind me and entered me, thrusting like the wild god he was, filling me so full I could barely breathe. We stayed locked together, his hunger driving into me, until we both came in a blur of passion.
* * *
I quickly dried my hair, my towel wrapped around me as Kipa slicked his hair back into a wet ponytail and fastened it with a hair tie. He dressed in jeans and a V-neck sweater.
“What do you want to wear?” he said, poking around in my closet.
I glanced at the clock. It was almost eight. “You know, pull out my pajama shorts and a tank top, would you, and my robe. I’m tired and I don’t want to get dressed.”
“All right.” He did as I asked, finding a pair of the soft knit boy shorts I used for when we had company and I couldn’t walk around commando. He held up an oversized camisole, also in a soft knit. “This work?”
I glanced at the violet cami. “Yeah, that’s good. And my fuzzy robe, not the silk one.” I finished drying my hair, took off my makeup, and dressed, then slid my feet in a pair of cushioned slippers. With Kipa’s arm draped around my shoulders, we headed out to the living room.
My mother was paying the delivery boy, and she carried three pizzas to the kitchen table, where I saw she had brought out paper plates and napkins.
“Oh thank you, I didn’t feel like eating formally tonight.” During the time my mother had lived with my father and me, she had insisted on place mats and china every night, and on rare occasions she had allowed me to eat in the living room. Of course, back then the world had been more formal, in many ways, and there was no TV to gather around.
I filled my plate with three slices of pizza and headed for the living room, stopping to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. Kipa followed me, his plate stacked high. The gods didn’t technically need to eat—not much—but they enjoyed it, and when they did eat, they had good appetites.
“So,” I said, settling in on the sofa, placing my plate on a tray on the coffee table. “Did you talk to Da and Dougal?” I both wanted to hear and yet didn’t want to hear what went down. I was afraid that my relationship with my father might be permanently terminated. If he really had disowned me, then I’d have to get used to it, and though I knew I could adapt, the hurt was still a bitter pill lodged in my throat.
Phasmoria sat down in the rocking chair with her plate. She placed a glass of wine on a coaster, then cleared her throat. “Yes, I talked to your father, Raven. And to that curmudgeon of a grandfather you have. I found out what happened and I let them have an earful, trust me.”
“What do you mean? What happened?”
My mother pursed her lips. “I never trusted the old man—when I first met him, I knew he was going to cause problems. That was before you were born. As you know, Curikan and I were just having fun, and then boom, I was pregnant. I wasn’t sure what to do, but my instincts told me I needed to have you. We went over to Scotland so I could meet Curikan’s family, and they treated him like dirt, but the old man fawned on me. He was sure I was going to have a boy and that the child would take after him. He wanted Curikan to stick to the Black Dogs for a love match and he wasn’t thrilled with me, but if there was a chance he could get his hands on a boy…”
“Just how strong is Dougal?” Kipa asked.
“Stronger than you might think, but he’s getting older. While his other sons would probably do a fine job leading the clan, Dougal wants Curikan to take over because Curikan is the smartest. But he wants Curikan to toughen up, and that’s not Curikan’s style. Curikan made the mistake of talking about the mess with Blackthorn to his father—he was horrified that Ember was almost killed by the King of Thorns. Dougal saw a chance to exert some control over the family. He was the one who went to the Banra-Sheagh and told her that she was losing control of her subjects.”
“I didn’t even know she existed. How can she lose control over people who have never heard of her? I don’t even know how the Ante-Fae have a queen. We’re all a bunch of anarchists, when you think about it.” I bit into my pizza and suddenly, as good as Dek’s lunch had been, the memory of it faded into a mouthful of hot cheese, yeasty crust, tomato sauce, and all those yummy toppings. I suddenly didn’t mind as much that we weren’t making our own bread.
“That’s one of the issues at stake. The Banra-Sheagh is beginning to realize that she’s outlived her time. The Ante-Fae have never been a cohesive people. You’re right in that we all pretty much lead our own lives and don’t give a flying fuck about the government. Anyway, I think Dougal saw a way to try and make Curikan behave with the promise of bringing you over to live with the family—and to ensure that you had to—he mistakenly thought that a word from the Queen would take care of your connections here. Dougal’s intent on building a dynasty, and that would be fine except that he’s banking on the wrong people.”
I tried to sort out what my grandfather’s goal was. “But what’s his endgame? Why have me come over, since I’m not one of the Black Dogs?”
“To keep your father there. Curikan misses you, sweetie. Curikan was about ready to come home and your grandfather was frantic about it. He’s convinced that if he can bring out your father’s harsher nature, he will be the strong son that Dougal wanted him to be. You see, your uncles are dolts. They’re the perfect temperament to lead the clan, but they don’t have two brain cells to rub together to their names. So…”
I began to understand. “So, if Dougal can make Curikan more like them, then that—combined with his brains—would make for a powerful leader. But I still don’t understand why he needs to strengthen the clan.”
“Because there are other Black Dog families that are as old as Dougal’s. Rivals, if you will, and they don’t get along. Dougal is worried that in the future, his clan will die out or fade into a ragtag group. He’s looking for power, Raven. And he sees your father as the one son who can build that power.” Phasmoria picked up a slice of the pizza and bit into it. “Mmm, good. Dougal realized that you were the key to getting Curikan to stay. But when you refused to knuckle under, he decided that the only other way was to get Curikan to let you go. So he manipulated the Queen into making you a pariah. I think they had the plan worked out before you ever got there—what to do if you refused, that is.”
So I had been a pawn. A carrot to dangle in front of my father’s face, and then when that didn’t work, he unceremoniously ripped my father and me apart. “Fucking bastard,” I muttered.
“I have to agree,” Kipa said. “That’s a low trick, and somebody should take him to task.”
I was almost afraid to ask the next question, but I had to know. “So, what did my father say to you about everything?”
Phasmoria gave me a gentle smile. “He knows what Dougal is up to, now. And he’s heartsore about what happened. He’s turning in his formal resignation from the clan and returning here in a week. Curikan is coming home, and he’s asked me to speak on his behalf with you. He’s asking for forgiveness, for not standing up for you in front of the Banra-Sheagh and your grandfather.”
That was all I needed to hear. My father still loved me and he hadn’t been part of the trickery. I burst into tears, relieved and yet saddened that this had happened. And all the while, in the back of my mind, I knew that things would never be quite the same, and that I—and any of the Ante-Fae who supported me—would still be excommunicated from our people, and that might last forever.
Chapter Fourteen
After that, I was useless for the rest of the evening. All the conflicting emotions, along with the scare about the aztrophyllia, raced through me. I needed to relax, and as much of a release as sex had been, I wasn’t feeling relaxed.
I finished my pizza, adding in a fourth slice, then brought over my handpan and stand and set it up. “Do you mind if I play for a bit?” If anything could relax me, it was the haunting notes of Laralea—my handpan’s name. The music from the complex, UFO-shaped instrument resonated on an ancient level, sending me into a soft trance. I often worked magic with Laralea, but some days, I played her for fun or for joy or—like tonight—to relax.
“Please do,” Kipa said. “I love it when you play.”
My mother stared at it. “I don’t think I’ve heard you play. Please, go ahead.”
As they finished eating, I set to a pattern, closing my eyes and thinking of the mountains around here, the volcanoes and the massive forests and then the ancient groves over on the Olympic Peninsula. I played their music—the music of the watchful ones, the music of the sentinels of the earth who held sway over the land, whose deep roots burrowed so far into the ground that they had become entwined with the stones and fossils found below. I played the solitude of the forest, and then the wild cresting waves of the Pacific as she swept ashore, crashing in foamy white breakers, hauling driftwood logs to the beaches to toss them around like she was playing pick-up sticks.
Witching Fire: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 16 Page 13
