“It’s all right. I didn’t need that nose,” he said.
She giggled.
Abigail changed the baby as he worked. She showed the maturity to wait until he was done healing Hattie to introduce a new problem.
She cleared her throat. “Before . . . when you told me about Galen, I thought you said your baby was a boy.”
“He is.”
Abigail bit her lip. Lucifer came over and examined the baby. The little girl had a dark tuft of hair on her head. She wasn’t that much older than Galen. He could see how he had mistaken this baby for his, considering how swaddled she’d been.
“Whose baby did you steal?” Lucifer asked.
“We didn’t steal any babies,” Hattie said quickly.
“We bargained,” Abigail said. “I traded my most valuable possessions to take your baby home with me.”
“What did you give them?” It was hard to imagine anything Abigail owned that muileateaches would want.
“I brought a cauldron with bundles of herbs I’d been collecting, a wand, a broom, and a silver necklace Clarissa gave me. They always say it has to be meaningful in fairy tales, a true sacrifice.” She looked down at the table, her cheeks turning rosy under her freckles. “I gave them the ponytail of hair you gave me when I went to live in the castle.”
Just what he needed. A bunch of water hags with his hair so they could use it to hex him and cast love spells on him.
“I think they played a trick on you. They didn’t give you Galen.” He stroked the baby’s cheek. She squirmed her face into the warmth of his hand like a cat would.
“Is the baby a changeling?” Hattie asked.
“Not exactly. They just played a trick on you.” He tried not to let his annoyance show. “What exactly was the condition of the bargain?”
Abigail’s eyebrows furrowed. “I would give them my most prized possession. In exchange for this, they would give me your baby. Aren’t you happy?”
He considered her wording. His baby. He looked to the baby again, the tuft of dark hair. Morag wasn’t the only muileateach he’d been with.
“Oh no,” he said.
“What?” Abigail asked.
“This baby might be mine. She’s just . . . probably a different muileateach’s child.” He wondered if the mother realized her baby had been given away.
“Oh.” Abigail’s expression grew puzzled, then indignant. “How many children do you have?”
“More than I’d like, considering I’m not in the position to take care of any babies at the moment.” Only now that Lucifer had done everything he could for the injured did he sink into a chair. “The next time you decide to come to my rescue and do something dangerous and foolish, would you consider consulting me first?”
“We didn’t know we were doing anything dangerous,” Hattie said quietly.
Lucifer didn’t bother to cover the exasperation in his voice. “You snuck down a trellis three stories high and didn’t realize it was dangerous?”
Hattie sat bolt upright. “Abby didn’t say it was three stories.”
Abigail waved her off. “I made sure the plant magic held you so you wouldn’t fall in case you slipped.”
“Then you left the castle without telling anyone where you were going,” Lucifer said.
“Other teenagers get to come and go as they please.” Abigail lifted her chin.
“Yes, but you aren’t normal teenagers. You’re related to important people. Their enemies might want to hurt you. Fae, in general, might want to hurt you.” He drew in a deep breath, trying to project calm and patience, though he didn’t feel either. “You exposed yourself to dangerous creatures, tricksters who cheated you and others who hunted you. Do you understand how shortsighted your plan was? Think about how you endangered yourself and everyone around you. Look at MacCoinneach.” Lucifer gestured to the leshi where he lay on the floor. “Is this what you do to friends?”
Abigail hung her head in shame. “I know. I won’t do it again.”
“No, you won’t,” he said sharply. “Someone died today. Baba wouldn’t have had to sacrifice herself if you hadn’t behaved so naively.”
Abigail turned away, not answering. She fed the baby from a cloth dipped in goat’s milk. When Kelsie returned, a gloomy silence hung over the cottage.
“MacCoinneach is going to need his bandages changed in a few hours,” Lucifer said, his voice coming out more gruff than he intended. “More salve can be applied then. And he’ll need more tea. Do we have enough herbs?”
Hattie sat at the table, one arm laced through Abigail’s.
Kelsie pulled up a chair next to him. “Lucy, where is Baba?”
He didn’t look forward to this. Kelsie had no one else. No other family.
His heart ached in his chest, for both their losses. “What did Baba tell you before she left?”
“She had to follow you. You needed Abby’s blanket.” The words flowed out of Kelsie in halting jerks. “She wanted me to run it back to you. Then she stopped knitting and decided I needed to stay here with MacCoinneach. To try to heal him. But I’m hopeless at healing. I swear, the one thing—the only thing—I’m good at is calling down storms. That’s why she wanted me in the first place.”
That might have been why Baba kept Kelsie around. She couldn’t cook, she was grouchy and complained, but she had called a storm the moment he needed it for electricity. If only he’d allowed her to do this months ago.
Lucifer took Kelsie’s hands in his. “Do you understand Baba only stayed young because she remained in the spring season? It was the only way she fought time and kept herself from aging.”
“We weren’t in spring.” Kelsie choked on her words. “Back with the leshi. That was autumn.”
He nodded. “She didn’t make it.”
Abigail blurted. “She sacrificed herself. For me.”
“No!” Kelsie let out a wail and threw her arms around Lucifer’s neck. “She didn’t! You’re lying! She can’t be dead! Where will I go? What will I do? It isn’t fair.”
Abigail handed the baby to Hattie.
She embraced the two of them. “How about I make us a fresh pot of tea and a nice batch of scones to soothe our nerves.”
Lucifer didn’t doubt she was going to infuse the lavender and chamomile in the tea with her magical version of Morty Prozac. After the day they’d had, he wasn’t about to object. They needed it.
* * *
Lucifer sent a letter through the small portal for nonliving objects to Clarissa. After all the healing—and more that would need to be done on MacCoinneach—he was too exhausted to use a large portal to transport Abigail and Hattie back home.
The knock came at supper. Lucifer answered the door, expecting it to be Clarissa.
Instead a muileateach stood there, black pond weeds dripping from her hair. Her skin was blue, and the stringy weeds she wore stank of the bog. She was beautiful in a wild way, though Lucifer suspected it was a powerful glamour, because Baba had told him the muileateaches were old.
The woman glowered at Lucifer. “Where is my baby?”
Abigail stood, backing away. She placed herself between the woman and the baby she’d placed on Baba’s bed to nap.
Lucifer thought he recognized the swamp maiden from the white streaks in her otherwise black hair. “Isla?”
“Inghinn.” She rolled her eyes.
“Is there something perhaps you would like to share with me?” Lucifer crossed his arms. “Some piece of information you neglected to tell me?”
She lifted her nose at him. “Morag wasn’t the only one you got with child. There were three of us.”
“Three!” Abigail gasped.
“They had no right to give her away to you without consulting me.” Inghinn said. “She’s mine. I delivered her myself. If you don’t give her back, I’ll curse you.” She waved a hand at his crotch. “And your manhood.”
Kelsie snickered. She abruptly
stopped when Lucifer cast a dirty look her way.
“You’re right. It was wrong that they took your child without consulting you.” He stared into her watery green eyes. “I should hope that by acting in good faith and giving the baby back, you aren’t going to eat her or do anything to harm her.”
Her stringy hair hid her expression. “I give you my word.”
The baby stirred behind Lucifer. Inghinn stood on tiptoe, trying to see over his shoulder. He caught a glimpse of concern and then relief. She didn’t look like the sort of mother who would devour her own child.
It was rare Lucifer had anything a Fae wanted. He used that to his advantage. “And it’s my hope that you will allow me to visit and be part of my child’s life.”
She frowned. “Are those the terms you offer me? I must share this child with you.”
“Only on weekends and holidays, if you prefer.” He grinned at his own joke, knowing full well a muileateach would have no understanding of time, nor would she understand the reference.
“Give her to me now.” Inghinn shifted from foot to foot uneasily, not crossing over the threshold. “Or I will curse you.”
Lucifer went to swaddle the baby. Inghinn’s gaze flickered to the audience at the table.
“It isn’t right,” Abigail whispered.
Lucifer lifted the baby from the bed and cuddled her one last time. “There’s a word you once taught your own children that comes to mind. ‘Beeswax.’ It’s none of your beeswax.”
Abigail stared at him, appalled.
This was his decision, not hers. Just as the matter of what to do about her soul was hers, not his.
Lucifer ignored her. He kissed the baby’s forehead before he handed the baby to Inghinn.
Inghinn cooed at the baby and kissed her cheeks. The swamp maiden smiled like a mother so completely enamored with her own baby that the world around her faded away. It was a full minute before she even looked away.
“What’s her name?” Lucifer asked.
“Rhona.”
He repeated the name, committing it to his memory.
She nodded to Lucifer. “You can come to the swamp if you want to visit with your children.”
It wasn’t a huge victory for Lucifer, but it was better than most people won in the war of Witchkin-Fae relations. There might be hope for uniting the Faerie Realm and Unseen Realm yet.
* * *
Lucifer sent Clarissa another letter, wondering why she was taking so long. Perhaps he hadn’t perfected this portal. He checked MacCoinneach’s bandages, and when the pain returned, Lucifer worked on his injuries again.
He was exhausted by bedtime. He needed to recharge his magic if he was going to heal MacCoinneach again in the morning.
Kelsie looked too worn to call another storm for Lucifer. It was never a good idea to push an Elementia to the brink of her limits when such a Witchkin was capable of calling down a cyclone after an emotionally trying day. Lucifer was relieved Kelsie went to bed early.
He suggested Hattie sleep in Baba’s bed with Abigail. There was more than enough room for the two of them.
“I need to go out to the forest and recharge,” he said.
He had enough energy to turn himself into a cat and find a female.
“I can come with you,” Abigail said eagerly.
He hesitated, wondering if this was a bad habit to start now. It was one thing to use touch and sex as a means to cure her. To do more with her now felt like he was rewarding bad behavior.
Part of him couldn’t let go of Baba’s sacrifice for her, of Abigail’s foolishness and impulsiveness. Selflessness mingled with selfishness in her actions, like two sides of the same coin. Was this the side effect of not having a complete soul? He didn’t know how to press upon her the importance of regrowing her soul or allowing part of her previous soul to inhabit her.
Now wasn’t the time either. He just needed to recharge.
“Hattie needs you,” he said, watching the blind girl grope her way across the cottage.
“I’m fine,” Hattie said. “If I need something, I can ask Kelsie. She’s only feet away.”
Abigail took his hand, her eyes imploring. “Please let me go with you.” She lowered her voice. “I know why you need to go out there. Gertrude told me how your magic works.”
She did understand.
He laced his fingers through hers. “It isn’t the best timing for us to be intimate after everything that happened today.”
She circled her arms around his neck, trapping him in her embrace. “I won’t be demanding. I’ll make sure we take care of your affinity.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss him.
He was a goner the moment her lips touched his. He suspected she knew it too, from the way she grinned at him. This wasn’t any different from those times she had manipulated him into letting her have a cookie, except that he was aware of what she was doing.
“We’ll see how it goes.” He draped his cape over her shoulders and escorted her out of the cottage.
Stars dotted the sky. It was a clear night with the moon illuminating patches of the path. Abigail’s feet carelessly snapped over twigs as he led her into the woods. Lucifer sensed small animals nearby, mice, owls, and another cat. The shadows didn’t seem to bother Abigail.
She tucked her arm into his, skipping along beside him. “I’m happy you said yes. I wanted to make it up to you so you won’t be mad at me.”
Lucifer suspected she was referring to her bringing his child without asking him first. He wasn’t sure she could make it up to him. At least, not with sex. She needed to give her actions more forethought. But how did one tell someone with half a soul to think before she stole a cookie from a cookie jar? A sociopath simply saw something she wanted and snatched it up. Was that the soul that curbed the impulse control or the brain? Abigail was intelligent enough to defend herself against a dozen leshi. But she couldn’t be trusted to stay out of trouble. This was only going to get worse the longer she went without a fully developed soul.
It was difficult to feel desire when he felt so low.
“I have to do this, even though I don’t want to right now.” He stepped off the path, his eyes like a cat’s at night, able to see in the darkness. “It’s about my magic, not my feelings for you.”
“But you do love me? You chose me today.” Her eyes flickered to the amulet.
“Yes. I love you.” He didn’t want her to doubt that. “But I’m tired. And I feel sad. Carnal pleasure is an easy way to satisfy my magic, but it doesn’t mean I always want to.”
“I’m happy to help you any time you need me to.” She wrapped her arms around him, her love aching to be expressed. “I know you didn’t want to make love with the muileateaches. Not like you do with me.”
The muileateaches whom he had gotten pregnant, and they hadn’t even told him. Probably the only reason Morag had informed him at all was because she’d known he apprenticed to a hedge witch and midwife, and she wanted him to help her when she’d realized the birthing had gone wrong. He wasn’t ready for children, and he suspected she might have known that. Baba had once asked him what he would do if he got Abigail pregnant. Would he be able to care for Abigail and a child? It would be like looking after two children at once.
Only she wasn’t a child. She was a teenager, almost a fully grown adult. She simply acted childishly.
He hoped he hadn’t gotten her pregnant earlier. He could only hope that so much magical energy had been spent on healing her, none had remained to make them both fertile. It wasn’t too late to start making smarter choices.
He hoped not, anyway.
“How are you feeling after lovemaking earlier?” He brushed her auburn hair out of her face. “Sore?”
“No, I’m fine,” she said quickly.
He didn’t have to project his awareness to know she was fibbing. He could hear the lie in her voice. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. He intended to make sure her early s
exual experiences were pleasant—and he didn’t get her pregnant.
He chose a mossy tree, one that wasn’t an oak so that her affinity wouldn’t be strengthened. He leaned her against the cushion of moss growing on the tree, kissing her with tenderness. She moaned with desire. His affinity was so attuned to the physical sensations dwelling inside her, he knew when it was the right moment to go further. He kissed his way down her breasts and belly. He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, tucking the fabric of her dress up so he could graze his teeth along her thigh.
She let out a whimper. Green motes sparkled around her face in the darkness, resembling stars.
“You’re going to control your magic as we do this. If you don’t, you’re probably going to get stuck as a tree.” After the soul magic he’d performed earlier, he suspected he could channel her energy if he needed to, but it would be far more enjoyable if he didn’t have to.
He nibbled on her leg.
She let out a breathy sigh. “You haven’t done this before. Is this still making love?”
He nuzzled against her. “It’s a kind of making love. I can use any pleasurable sensation to fuel my affinity for healing later. This is one of them.”
“I like the way your words rumble against my skin.” She wove her fingers into his hair.
“I have a feeling I know what else you’ll like.” He stroked her with his tongue, and she arched into him, gasping.
It was only a minute before excess tree energy wanted to burst from her. He needed energy to replenish his, even if it was Amni Plandai. He wicked her magic away, taking all the energy he created in her back into himself. It was like the times he drew the pain out of a patient. For the first time, she didn’t turn into a tree or grow any vines.
Perhaps removing her magic while they were intimate was the secret of keeping her human.
“Oh,” she said, sounding confused. “That was . . . different.”
He laughed. “I’m sure this is what women experience in the Morty Realm when they don’t have an incubus for a lover.” He lifted her leg from his shoulder and set it down. He adjusted her chemise and dress to cover her more modestly.
Son of a Succubus Series Collection Page 79