Such a lovely song…Ange swayed on her feet, her body moving to the rise and fall of the music, while her soul floated on a tide of sensual ease. Somewhere far away hands plucked at her clothing, undoing the fastenings, but she was barely aware of her surroundings. Her body hummed with a gentle arousal, a pleasant heat that flushed her skin and stirred her loins to aching life.
A breeze brushed against her naked breasts and she became aware that her clothing had vanished. Her breasts looked swollen and flushed and her nipples thrust out in tight peaks. Desire burned in her deep core but it was a banked fire, fierce and steady. She wanted nothing more than to lay down on the bed and let the Fa’erie do as he willed to her while the endless hot waves of pleasure washed over her. With a soft sigh, she sank down amid the silken sheets and delicate scarlet pedals. Above her, through the green canopy over her head, the sky danced with ever-changing light. Her arm brushed against warm flesh and she realized that the Fa’erie woman had laid down on the bed at her side.
“Remereador.” The woman spoke her name with a gentle smile.
The pillows molded themselves to Ange’s form. She floated on a bed of air, floated on clouds of light, surrounded by heavenly music. Gentle hands separated her thighs and a slender form knelt between them. Unthinking, she offered no resistance as Rabuth placed his hands on her knees and forced her thighs further apart, exposing her intimate flesh to his dark-eyed gaze. A new scent rose in the saturated air, the scent of her arousal.
The Fa’erie male bent forward, the silken mass of his long silver hair gliding over her skin as his warm breath stirred the curls at the apex of her dew-drenched thighs. She shivered at the touch of his tongue and arched her back as he explored her moist entrance, circling her clitoris and then probing the slit that led deep into her body. No! some distant part of her screamed. She didn’t want this male touching her, didn’t want any male touching her except Blane.
She gritted her teeth against the dreamy languor that sapped her strength and forced her buttocks up in the air in an attempt to escape the bold invasion of his tongue, but the movement was too weak to have any effect. He held her thighs apart with his hands and concentrated on her clit, sucking the nub as it stiffened with desire. Waves of powerful sensation pulsed through her. The sensual flood brought her part way out of her erotic trance. She turned her head and saw Remereador at her side, her wide sapphire eyes shining with hope as she watched her man feast between Ange’s legs.
“No!” From somewhere, Ange found the strength to sit up. She gripped Rabuth’s head with both hands and pushed him away. He fell back, his hands letting go of her thighs. She clapped them together, rolled off the bed and staggered to her feet.
“Leave me alone!” she yelled, staring wildly around for some path of escape.
“Halfling woman!” The words crashed around her, full of power. “Why do you fight us?”
Rabuth half rose from the bed, his dark eyes fixed on her. Beyond him, Remereador watched too, her hand lifted to her mouth, despair replacing the hope on her fragile face.
“Because,” Ange panted, backing away, “I am not a thing to be used by you. You have no right—”
The dark eyes that gazed at her filled with an infinite sorrow. “Would you deny us our chance for children, the gift that you alone can give?”
She stopped, poised for flight, and stared at him. “I-I don’t understand.”
Remereador rose from the bed, her flame-colored hair falling around her like a graceful curtain. Ange saw that she’d been aroused by Rabuth’s love play. Her nipples stood erect and moisture glittered in the patch of crimson hair between her legs. She made no attempt to hide her body, but stood looking at Ange while great crystal tears gathered in her sapphire eyes.
“It is simple enough.” The woman moved toward her, her long limbs graceful. “We who your kind call the Fa’erie are an old race and a barren one. We cannot conceive without the help of humans.”
“What are you saying? That you were going to rape me?” Ange looked at the male in horror.
“No!” Rabuth shook his head in fierce denial. “Do not fear. We intend only to share pleasure. We Fa’erie have long known the passion that our scent awakens in your race. In return, your arousal produces hormones that saturate the air and stimulate us. It’s only then that my mate and I can hope to conceive.”
With a graceful gesture, the male turned and held out his hand to his woman. She slipped her small white hand into his and forced a smile to her lips, but her glowing eyes never left Ange’s face, as if all her hopes for happiness hung on the human woman.
“I don’t understand.” Ange struggled against the fear that urged her to bolt into the forest and find a hiding place. Running held no answers. She was in some alien dimension, dependent on these creatures to show her the way home.
The shadow of an ancient sorrow touched the male’s face. “For you to understand, I must tell you something about the history of our people. Please, do not fear us. Come close.”
Ange hesitated, balanced on the balls of her feet. The male and female watched her, their bodies straining forward as if to summon her closer, their diaphanous wings sweeping the air. The music around them dimmed to a low hum, then faded altogether as a bright light flashed and a thunderclap roared through the clear sky.
Ange whirled around in alarm. In the meadow, Blane staggered out of the light, followed by Oberon and his queen.
Chapter Sixteen
“Blane!”
Blane stared wildly around at the sound of Ange’s voice shouting his name. There she was, on the edge of the meadow. An icy river of fear drenched him at the sight of her naked body and the bed spread beneath the trees. Terrible memories had come back to him as he’d raced up the mountain side to reach the meadow and demand that the Fa’erie king transport him to the Otherworld.
“Ange!” He shouted her name and broke into a run. She hugged her breasts, trying to hide her nudity. Her face looked hurt and vulnerable. He closed the last few meters between them, threw open his arms and swept her up in his embrace. Her body shuddered with silent sobs as he gathered her close.
“Are you all right?” he demanded.
“You came.” She lifted her head and looked up at him. Joy glowed on her face despite the tears that sparkled in the green depths of her eyes.
“I couldn’t let you face this—whatever it is—alone.”
“It is nothing terrible, whatever you may think.” Oberon strode up to them, his nude body majestic in the golden light. He turned to Ange, an amused smile flickering over his lips as he drank in the sight of her nudity. “I welcome you to the Otherworld. It is not often that we entertain your kind in our realm.”
Blane pressed Ange to his side and glared at Oberon. This Fa’erie was a prominent figure in so many of the memories that had come rushing back. How long had he served Oberon under his sensual spell? Blane held tight to his anger, knowing he would need all his strength to demand an answer from the king.
The Fa’erie’s gaze swept over him with a haughty distain. He turned his attention to Ange. “Your mate does not wish to share you.”
“He’s not my mate,” Ange began. She stopped and glanced up at Blane. He squeezed her closer and looked deep into her eyes.
“I’m here,” he whispered, his words a gentle promise that he would never leave her.
She smiled up at him and then faced Oberon again. “We’re lovers,” she added, lifting her chin.
“Lovers, not mates?” The Fa’erie raised his eyebrows and looked puzzled. “The ways of your people are strange to us.”
Blane straightened his shoulders, determined to show no fear. “Your ways are also unknown to us, but they seem to include kidnapping.”
Oberon’s puzzled look deepened. He ignored Blane and addressed Ange. “You were in the meadow the last time we danced. You came into the light. The scent drew you and I smelled your heritage on your flesh. Was it wrong to welcome you to our realm where you have a place by r
ight of blood?”
“I’m afraid I don’t remember that visit. If you explained all this to me then, I have forgotten your words.”
A proud smile played over the king’s lips. “Yes, I took the memories from your mind when I sent you back. I regret the necessity. But we find our greatest safety lies in staying hidden. Once we walked openly among your kind, but for centuries now we have kept our activities secret. Your race has come to believe we are nothing more than a myth from ancient times. Whenever there must be contact between our species, we erase all memory of it.”
“You use us and erase the evidence of your crime you mean,” Blane accused.
Anger flared in Oberon’s dark eyes. “There is no evil in a species fighting for its survival. We give those who come here great pleasure, and we watch over New Hope.”
Blane hesitated. It was probably unwise—maybe even dangerous—to question the Fa’erie king in the heart of his realm, but the dark memories crowding through his mind demanded answers. He’d come to this meadow before, laid on that very bed, and forgotten it all. He shivered at the memory of gossamer wings brushing over his naked flesh and faced the king.
“No evil you say? It is evil to seduce someone against their will and then erase the memory of that seduction.”
The king shook his head. “Not if it is necessary to save a life—the life of a people. We are the ones who maintain the balance between our worlds, a balance your kind destroys with your insatiable violence. You humans continually create vibrations of discord that threaten to pull the worlds apart.”
“Blane.” Ange tugged at his sleeve and hugged her body. Seeing the unspoken plea in her eyes, he stripped off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. His lips pressed together into an angry line. He faced Oberon with fresh rage. “I know what you intended to do with this woman. I’m not going to let you. I’m not going to forget and I’m not going to let you exploit my people anymore.”
Rabuth stepped forward, his eyes narrowed. His gossamer wings fluttered with agitation. “Lord, let me banish the human for daring to speak so to you.”
Oberon lifted a hand. “Peace, Rabuth. Perhaps we have forgotten too much of human ways in the centuries we have spent apart.” He turned to Blane. “No harm was going to befall this woman tonight. All we intended was a sharing of mutual pleasure. We have shared this pleasure with many from the other human colony on Kyffin over the years, each of them drawn to the dance by their own deep desires. But they were human, not immortal like we are. Most of them have passed on now, and the few who abide yet within our realm are too old to help in the mating. We need young blood.”
Blane and Ange exchanged a look. He tightened his arm around her waist and asked the question on both their minds. “Why did you call me years ago? Why is Ange drawn to your realm, too?”
A gentle smile shaped the Fa’erie’s lips. “Your heart knows the answer to that already, although your mind resists it. Both of you carry our blood in your veins, and that blood draws you to our realm.”
Ange clutched Blane’s jacket around her and shivered. “How can that be?”
“Long ago, our races were one. Two paths opened before us. Your kind chose one path and the Fa’erie took another. Yet our blood remains close enough that we can mate and produce a child—a fact that has proven crucial to our continued survival.” A brooding look settled on Oberon’s face. “Most humans forget us if they ever see us, but that other one—your brother Ryol—remembered because he had the dust always with him.”
With a start, Blane recalled Ryol. “Did he come here tonight? What have you done with him?”
“Nothing.” Oberon lifted his shoulders in a graceful shrug. “I do not harm humans. But his theft of the dust must be stopped. Our magic is a potent thing, capable of great good or ill. Do you wish to see that he is unharmed?”
The Fa’erie’s hands moved, dipping and rising like birds. The air to his right began to shimmer with light. A humming noise mounted swiftly up the scale of sound then fell again as the light flared. Blane blinked away a momentary blindness. Ryol stood in the midst of the fading light, looking around in confusion. His sharp-eyed gaze swept over the gathered Fa’erie and humans. He jerked up his arm and then stared in amazement at his empty hand.
“Your weapon is vanished,” Oberon said. “No harm is allowed to befall any in this realm. We of the Fa’erie have brought you here to learn what you do with the dust you steal from the meadow after our dances.”
Ryol lifted his head, the proud arrogance his wealth had brought him showing in every line of his face. “I had no idea the dust had worth to you. It is only dust, a few grains left behind in the meadow after you dance.”
Oberon reached out to clasp his queen’s hand in his. “In our royal mating dance, we bend the energy of your world to achieve our purposes. The vibrations our energy gives off have a transforming power. It never occurred to us that our power of transformation would affect the dust falling through the air as we danced. There is always dust, everywhere. But now we perceive it does, and the dust contains some of our magic—magic that must not be allowed to leave Kyffin.”
Ryol shifted his glance from the face of one Fa’erie to another. They stood nude but implacable, waiting for his response.
“Welcome to a situation you can’t buy your way out of, brother,” Blane taunted.
The merchant thrust out his chin. “I make no apologies. I didn’t know you made any claim to the dust. I took a handful, it is true, and made it into a perfume—a tiny batch bought by a few people on various worlds.”
“A powerful perfume,” Blane interrupted. “An aphrodisiac so strong that the one who wears it can enslave the hearts of others.”
Oberon’s face darkened. He turned and scowled at Ryol. “I see. Such interference in the affairs of humanity cannot be allowed.”
Ryol glowered at the Fa’erie. “What business is it of yours? You have your realm and we have ours. If you leave your dust behind, we will use it.”
Oberon stalked toward the merchant. He was a head taller than Ryol and the waves of light that surrounded him as he moved pulsed like giant wings. Ange had a momentary fear that he was going to snatch the merchant up and fly off to the mountain peaks to drop him. Instead, the king stopped and sniffed the air in front of Ryol. He fixed him with a scornful look.
“You are a disgrace to your humanity. You would bind other free souls with magic for mere money.”
“My perfume spreads love in the Federation,” Ryol blustered.
Blane tightened his arm around Ange. His brother’s discomfort was amusing after his previous arrogance. “Come on, Ryol. Even you don’t believe that.”
“Your use of our magic to influence others must stop,” the king added in a stern voice.
Ange stepped forward, demanding Oberon’s attention. “Wait a moment. What about me? I’m cursed with this glamour stuff, too, and it’s nothing I ever wanted. Can you take it away from me?”
The king inclined his head toward her. “Don’t you perceive the truth yet, halfling child? You carry our blood, too.”
“Me?” She swallowed hard. Until she’d landed on Kyffin, she’d had no doubt about her identity. Ange Bennett, loner, doomed to a life shared with an android, with only the Hawk’s Flight to love.
Blane’s strong hands gripped her shoulders, offering her his support. “We’re both halflings. We’ll get through this together.”
The Fa’erie king looked surprised by her shock. His dark eyes gazed into hers with deep compassion. “The Fa’erie blood is strong. Its power drew human lovers to you and repelled them at the same time. Your race craves magic, yet clings to its primitive loathing of all that is different.”
“Tell me about it.” Ange bit her lip in frustration. Oberon was right. His words summed up a lifetime of heartbreak.
“It is best if you mate with another who also carries our blood,” the Fa’erie added gently.
“Just a minute.” Ryol waved a hand at his brother
and Ange. “How did these two get Fa’erie blood anyway?”
The queen spoke for the first time, her voice sweet with unheard melodies. “Both our races are old beyond remembering. Once we were one and lived in this realm in peace together. Then came a day when our ways parted. Some of our kind wished to descend through the dimensions to a lower realm where the physical experience would be stronger. They left their magical powers behind and embraced a new way of life. They settled a small world you call Earth.”
Ange forced a laugh. “Yes, Earth. I’ve heard of it.”
“Yet our ancient shared heritage remains.” The queen gestured to Rabuth and his mate. Her slender hands hovered in the air like birds, imploring mercy. “We Fa’erie who dwell in a realm of higher energy live long lives, thousands of your years. We do not need to constantly replenish our numbers with children as you do. Yet sometimes we, too, long for a child. The higher vibrational level of this realm grants us long lives but it also makes it difficult for us to reproduce. Over the eons, the problem has only grown worse. Alas—” She looked around her, eyes brimming with sorrow. “We can no longer conceive children without help from your kind.”
“You’re using us.” Blane accused. He wrapped a protective arm around Ange’s waist. She shivered and pressed closer to his warm body, welcoming the shelter he offered. The Fa’erie’s revelations frightened her, raising a host of questions she dared not face.
“Perhaps.” Oberon looked from one to the other, begging for understanding. “We used the colonists who had our blood, summoning them to our portal, engaging them in our dance of love. But who have we harmed?”
“You could ask for help instead of enchanting people into your realm!” Ange snapped.
“And expose ourselves to your people. We did that once, long ago. Your kind used us then, exploited our magic. If we did it again—now that you have the technology to control us—we would risk our freedom.”
“So you need to keep your existence secret.” Ryol cast a sly look at the Fa’erie. “Maybe I could help you.”
Scent Of Magic Page 18