Away with the Faeries (Get Your Rocks Off Book 1)

by Sam Hall

  It was odd, seeing the face of someone I’d stared at for so long, in dreams and on the internet, look so intensely at me. It felt like my dream, where I had no defences against him, where he pushed me back on the bed and tore my body in two with pleasure. When… When I thought it was just him that told me he loved me.

  Except I did have defences now. Re-situate the mask, Kira, I told myself, but something threatened to stir as I considered that.

  “Kira, love,” he said, his voice breaking as he got the words out. “We’re due on tour. You were going to photograph us, remember? We were going to finish this amazing project.”

  “Get back, Hartley,” one of the sentinels said.

  “I know we didn’t handle it well. But, love, you know us. You know we’ll look after you.”

  “Hartley!” Byers nodded to his men, and they approached Liam with their guns trained on him. He just stood there, staring at me, waiting for an answer.

  “Liam!” I said as they got closer. His eyes went wide as he heard me say his name.

  “Unless you’ve made your decision, Hartley needs to return to the line, now,” Byers said to me, as if I could control him.

  So I did.

  I pushed past the rest of the sentinels, and Mark tried to grab me as I passed, but I slipped through. Liam’s face transformed, a terrible hope spreading there, something that just made this harder.

  “Kira?” he said, like he could scarce believe that was my name.

  “You need to get back into line, and I need to get through this process. They’ll shoot you if you don’t.”

  His eyes finally took the sentinels in, braced and ready to take him down.

  “Come with us,” he said as he rejoined the rest of his court, the members of the band’s eyes raking over me while the roadies and other hangers on moved restlessly. “We know all the things you dream about and can give you every single one.”

  “Dramatic,” Aen said, brushing against my leg. “But all that passion. You must be imagining all of that unloading upon you.” He looked up at me with those bright green eyes. “You are!”

  He snickered at that as we walked the rest of the way, past Liam and the rest of The Changelings. It was all the same until we reached the end of the line, where Dave sat perched on an honest to goodness golden throne, Jen standing by his side and waving crazily as I took a seat at the provided table. Byers sat next to me, Mark on his other side and Aen jumped up into my lap, settling like a king surveying his court.

  “Please be seated,” Dave said to the rest of the crowd, their movement away taking a weight off of me. “We’re here to assign a preceptor to the lovely Kira, so that she might decide which court she would like to be assigned to.”

  “Yes,” Byers said, irritation clear in his voice. “At the moment, the lady has accepted tributes from Hartley, Rutherglen, and the…Cat Sidhe of Rochester. They may put forward candidates today. If she chooses none of them, other candidates will be sought.” That brought rumbles from the crowd.

  “I believe I can provide some clarity there. I have been given indications that connections have been made with my herald upon Kira’s transition.” Those dark eyes switched to me, bathing me in a terrible warmth. “I would like to welcome you to the fold. You will live a long and happy life at Rutherglen, sweet Kira, with my—”

  And there it was. Like a father, he would control me, control Marlow and Jen besides. No doubt it would all be immensely satisfying for all three of us, his iron hand pushing us into scenarios that provided us with the kind of ecstatic bliss that tied you to a person and wanting more.

  “The girl hasn’t said she’s accepted you, Rutherglen, just your tribute,” Byers said, consulting his paperwork.

  “Really?”

  Dave’s question was directed at me. I recognised that oh so calm look of disappointment—that slight frown, the little shake of the head, a world of unhappiness communicated in the fewest of gestures. Fuck this, Daddy kink wasn’t one of mine. If he started to tell me how disappointed he was in my behaviour, I was so out of here.

  “Yep. Still trying to find my way through all of this. The whole paranormal, fae, preceptor, lover-slash-mentor for life thing…” I looked around me as my words felt like they were spoken into an airless room, dying the moment they came out of my mouth.

  “Yes,” Byers said. “Exactly what we are here to sort through.”

  “There’s also our contract.” Liam stood to speak, drawing a venomous look from Dave. Not a naughty child, an enemy. “Just because Rutherglen has had a sniff at her and wants a taste, it doesn’t invalidate our agreement.”

  “Yes, on that I believe I can provide an immediate ruling without any further evidence or submissions.”

  Byers looked up at Rutherglen, who was about to protest.

  “Ooh, the anticipation,” Aen whispered into my ear. “Are they going to fight or fuck?”

  “The paperwork that has been signed by both parties, submitted by the Hartley camp, is a clear-cut case of a no-compete agreement. Lord Rutherglen, you signed away your rights to compete for the lady Kira’s hand. Unless there is a dispute that this is your signature?”

  “No—”

  “Then there is no need to pursue this further. The non-competition clause is upheld. No other member of the Rutherglen enclave will compete with the Hartley pursuit of the lady. Agreed?”

  A grudging sound of affirmation went around the crowd.

  “Then to the next matter—”

  “But members of my court can put forward candidates as preceptor?”

  Byers sighed. “As everyone is well aware, there is no stricture against anyone putting forward a nomination.”

  “There is also the matter of our contract with Kira,” Liam said. “We were due to fly out today to start our latest tour, and she took on the job of tour photographer for six months.”

  “Yes, I was getting to that.” Byers turned to me. “This was signed by you in good faith, without coercion?”

  Coercion? I thought of my father’s face and his words when I walked out of the negotiations. Then I remembered the dream I’d had. I nodded to Byers, not trusting my voice on this. They had their money, had the security they wanted. It was weird, but my relationship with my family and with Gisbourne felt like something that had happened to someone else, as if they were in a book I’d read or a movie I’d seen.

  “Then the agreement will be honoured. Kira will fly out with Hartley tonight. If a preceptor can be found today, they will go with her. If not, negotiations will continue on the road.”

  “All conditions of the agreement will be honoured?” Dave said.

  “Of course.”

  “Then Kira will travel with my heir, Jennifer, and her security detail, in the accommodations I provide for them. They will be accompanied by my herald, who has operated as the artistic director for this project. He is also the Rutherglen candidate for preceptor.”

  “Yes, Lord Rutherglen, I believe it has been established that all conditions of the contract are to be honoured. I do not appreciate using this process for point scoring between lord and vassal,” Byers said. “Hartley has a claim on the girl they would like to consolidate. If that’s what she decides, the League will support it. You may send your representatives along as dictated by the contract, and only time will tell if that pays off. There’s also the matter of the Cat Sidhe representatives. Are there any of your court present here today?” Byers said to Aen.

  “No, I believe they dumped me and ran.”

  “Ran? What is the use of a tribute if the court doesn’t stick around to see if the girl accepts their offer? Who will be the potential preceptor?”

  “No idea, they are a flighty lot after all. And they are me.”

  The cat leapt from my lap, shifting as he went, until the big cat disappeared, only to be replaced by a man. I stared, everyone stared at the tall man who replaced Aen. He wore a pair of old brown leather pants and that was it, so there were acres of pale muscular fle
sh on display, showcasing intricate tattoos curling over his shoulders and across his pecs. He smiled as a cat would as he watched me take it all in, fingers playing with a long strand of his scarlet hair.

  “Well, little Kira? Are you going to accept my offer?”

  “Superintendent…” Mark growled.

  “I know. I am well aware.” He reached with trembling hands into his hip pocket and pulled out a phone, then punched in a number quickly. “Sir, we have a problem,” he said to whoever picked up.

  I watched the surrounding fae drop to their knees, awkwardly from their chairs, but they did it. Dave was the slowest, but down he went.

  What the fuck?! my mind screamed as he strolled over with the exact same feline grace of his previous form, Byers jabbering details of what this was to someone, somewhere. He stopped on the other side of the table, that perfect expanse of finely wrought muscle close enough to touch.

  “Damn, that bloody musk. It’s enough to tug at even my control,” he rasped in a low tone. Somehow, I felt the vibrations of it through my body, and it made every nerve ending perk up and take notice. Then his hand slid down to his pants to the considerable lump and squeezed.

  I could no more look away than poke out my own eyes, or at least, that’d be what it would probably take. His smile widened as he watched me watch him, both of us caught in some kind of insane feedback loop from now to the end of time, until he decided to take pity on me.

  “I’m fairly sure the lady does not want to interview her possible preceptors in front of the entire host. We need a private room where each of us may put our cases to Kira. You may send your captain in to oversee the process,” Aen said, nodding to Byers.

  The horned guy from the other night stepped forward. “And our offer, Lord Rutherglen?”

  “Kira has more than enough offers to consider right now,” Aen said. “She’ll call on House Claracan if she decides against us.”

  What the fuck. What the actual fuck. I watched the man incline his head politely, but there was fire flaring in his eyes. Aen was being completely high handed and everyone was letting him, which told me a lot. Nonetheless, I was relieved, not wanting to deal with any more alien creatures.

  “Of course, milord,” Dave said as Byers and Mark just stared at the man. “Hartley, send your representative. Marlow, with me.”

  18

  Dave opened the door to what looked like an empty office. There was a desk, an executive chair, and a beautiful view of the estate and the valley beyond in the window behind it.

  “Please, take a seat,” he said, all the smouldery ‘I’m going to put you over my lap and spank you’ stuff scrubbed clean. It was weird to see him so rattled, but I kinda liked it. Everyone but Marlow had seemed so fucking confident since I’d transitioned, like it was all a foregone conclusion. I sat down in the chair and watched him offer me a range of refreshments, struggling to meet my eyes, while Mark grabbed a chair at the back of the room. I leaned forward, knowing it’d put my new tits on display with the low neckline and that he’d catch more of the scent Marlow had applied.

  Huh, I thought. Daddy was still keen as mustard, his words trailing away as his eyes took in everything I had to offer, his nostrils working. I caught it, a deep, woody, tobacco kind of scent—his bloom. He seemed calmer when he met my eyes finally, a small smile forming on his face.

  “Rutherglen,” Mark said in a voice that brooked no nonsense.

  “Anything you want, Kira, you just let me know. If Marlow is not up to your standard—”

  “Marlow is beautiful and talented, and I find myself fighting the urge to lick every inch of his body on the regular,” I said.

  “Is that a fact? Well, that’s certainly a sight I look forward to seeing, if I earn the privilege. Shall I send him in first?”

  Fuck, that feeling of power had slipped pretty quickly, but I said yes, wanting anyone but Rutherglen in the room. Mark’s eyes met mine for a moment, a searing grey in the light pouring through the window before the door opened and admitted Marlow.

  His smile was warm when he walked in, faltering as he took me in. He did the same thing as Rutherglen—searched my face, looked at my tits, and then took a deep breath in.

  “I don’t know what I was bloody thinking, giving you that musk,” he said as he sat down, scratching at his scalp. “Kira, the cat, he’s seriously powerful. I don’t know who he is, but the people who do are in a bloody uproar. You need to—”

  I got up and out of my chair. Mark watched as I broached the distance between Marlow and I, but he didn’t move. I dropped down in front of him, something that had his words falling away. Our lips came together like magnets, that deep thrumming need for him flaring hard as soon as he was close.

  “You’re worried for me,” I said as I pulled back, his mouth following mine.

  He blinked and nodded. “Of course, I am. Some crazy shit is going down, and we’re not privy to it. It’s always games with the fae, Kira. You have to remember that. We live longer, so we’ve had longer to build these bloody networks of alliances and backroom deals—”

  I stopped him with another kiss, which turned into another, then another. I should have felt guilty or been embarrassed to pash some guy in front of the dude who I’d been kissing on just the previous day, but those human sensibilities seemed to leave me at times like this. “No, no…” he mumbled as my lips pulled away from his and trailed down the side of his neck until I reached the place his bloom was the headiest. I bit down on the flesh there, not hard, but I heard his yelp. I wanted the taste of him in my mouth. No, I wanted him in my mouth.

  “God,” he said, pushing me back. “We need to get this out of our system. This pull is insane. It shouldn’t feel this strong. I shouldn’t want you this much. And that fucking musk…” I clawed at his clothes, needing him skin to skin like I needed my next breath.

  A sharp knock came at the door.

  “Not now. We’ll be in the same bus tomorrow morning. I’ll get Jennifer some ear plugs or something, because we need to do this.”

  “Get it over and done with?” I said, hating how small my voice was.

  “Letting destiny take its course. Choose Johnno. I’ve already spoken to him. He won’t let anything get in the way of whatever it is you want, including his own brother. Hartley’s strong enough to hold Rutherglen off, yet they are his vassals, so it’ll help Dave save face, knowing you’re part of his wider court. Not the cat, though, Kira. Promise me that.”

  “Marlow, I’ve got to make my own decisions. The way The Changelings have acted, like I was theirs—”

  “Not The Changelings, just Johnno. You don’t have to have anything to do with the rest of the band outside of your work. Of course, it’s your choice, but seriously, he’s your best option.”

  He didn’t let me reply, just kissed me thoroughly before pulling away and going to the door. “I’ll tell the Rutherglen that you’ve rejected me, but are interested in pursuing something outside of the preceptor relationship. It’ll keep him happy. That OK?”

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. My mind saw all the points he was trying to make, understood the reasoning behind it, but that wasn’t what my heart and body wanted. It saw him walking out, again, because of other people’s bullshit reasons, again. He noted this, taking his hand off the doorknob, despite there being another knock, and swooped in to pull me into his arms. Something settled inside me at that, at the feel and scent of him.

  He should be my preceptor, I realised. The way I responded to him, felt a deep down need for him, it seemed to mesh with what people said the role was. But everything he said was right. Dave wouldn’t let us just have that. Like some weird lord in a period film, he’d get his bride night as well. I squeezed him tight, wanting the feel of him to be there still when he pulled away, and then I let him go.

  “Soon, love,” he said, and then slipped out the door.

  Mark waited until I was settled back in my chair to go to the door. “Would you like me to let the
next candidate in, miss?” he said.

  I didn’t reply, just looked at him for a moment. “What do you make of all of this?” I asked him, not wanting his hand to twist the doorknob. He’d shut me down pretty efficiently, but there was something about the new me that didn’t seem inclined to let things lie. “Blokes throwing themselves at me to show me the ropes. Whatever this bullshit is.” I plucked at my shirt, feeling disloyal when I did so. It was beautiful, but it didn’t feel a part of me, despite how hard Marlow had tried.

  “I don’t get to have thoughts about things like that,” he said finally, and my eyes jerked up when I detected a chink in that professional armour.

  “But you have them, you just hide them away. Why? Because you belong to this League? Because that’s incompatible with one of you longing for one of us to see you? Why can’t you be this preceptor? You seem to know as much of what’s going on as anyone else. You liked the taste of me well enough last night. You seem to have an arsenal at your fingertips that keeps the likes of the Rutherglen in his place. Why not you?”

  “Because I’m not offering.”

  The wall was back up, and the slamming down of those boundaries stung as I was left out in the cold, but I couldn’t seem to stop stepping up to him. Well, in for a lamb, in for a sheep.

  “Why?” I asked.

  He seemed surprised by that for a split second, before he mastered himself.

  “Because I can’t. I can’t help you negotiate the courts. I do everything I can to keep the fuck out of it. And what we have to stand against your kind is more important than one girl. The League of Heroes…”

  He snorted, looking out the window.

  “We’re the descendants of the humans with enough hubris to stand up against the gods themselves. Daedalus, Bellerophon, Cúchulainn, Hercules—it’s their descendants that created the League and brought with them the weapons their ancestors used to bring the gods low. Could I use Excalibur or the Black Cauldron to put these fuckers in their place? Sure, I could. I could even give them to you, to create your own court around. But I won’t. This isn’t about Kira and Mark, this is about your kind and mine. For much of existence, your people and the gods that you came from ruled this world, using humans like little pawns in some grand game and not caring about the violence and the destruction they created. More, they relished it. That’s what our mission is, to keep the peace and work with the fae to stop the worst excesses, sometimes through diplomacy,” his hand dropped down to his belt where his gun was holstered, “sometimes not. I’m sorry. I should never have started things with you. Talking to the super, we realised it was probably a sign that you were about to transition, lowering everyone’s inhibitions.”