Hell Hound's Redemption (Fae 0f The North Shore Book 2)

by A. S. Green

  Hell Hound’s Redemption

  Fae of the North Shore

  A. S. Green

  Tortoise House Press

  Copyright © 2019 A.S. Green

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Map

  Glossary

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Afterword

  Newsletter

  Also by A. S. Green

  About the Author

  Map of the North Shore

  Glossary

  AUTHOR’S NOTE: The pronunciations given are only a close approximation to the Irish language and are provided for the sole purpose of assisting the reading experience.

  Pádraigs (PAH-dregs) - Slang term used by the sídhe to describe human beings. The term derives from Naomh Pádraig (anglo: St. Patrick) who claimed to have rid Ireland of the sídhe, among other things.

  The Black Castle - The ancient human society that originated with St. Patrick and was promulgated by his followers down through the ages. Its single purpose is to rid the world of the sídhe on the basis that their existence is an unnatural abomination and an affront to God. The name of the group originates from the coastal castle ruins in County Wicklow, which some legends say is the spot where St. Patrick came to shore in Ireland as a missionary. Individual members of the group are also referred to as a/the Black Castle.

  Sídhe (SHEE) - the general term for the four faerie clans created by the goddess Danu; sometimes used to refer to all the faerie clans as a whole.

  Bean Sídhe (BAN SHEE) - a type of sídhe identified by their amber eyes, youthful faces, and snow white hair. They are reclusive and generally avoided because they only appear to herald an imminent death.

  Cú Sídhe (KOO SHEE) - a faerie hound; more commonly: hell hound. A sídhe of dual nature sometimes appearing as a man, other times appearing as a terrifying creature resembling a wolf, the size of a small horse, with blazing red eyes and great strength. At the time of St. Patrick, the cú sídhe were in servitude to, and the guard dogs for, the daoine sídhe. Though they later rebelled and earned their independence, the cú sídhe retained their natural instinct to protect.

  Daoine Sídhe (DEEna SHEE) - a type of sídhe known for their formality and conservatism. Families are close knit and proud—the older generations often taking an air of superiority based on their former ranking in the sídhe social hierarchy. They have varying abilities to create hallucinations designed to confuse others’ perceptions of reality, though these talents have been mitigated by their adaptation to pádraig society. The daoine are easily identified by their lavender eyes.

  Leannán Sídhe (leh-NAHN SHEE) - a type of sídhe known for beauty and music, for bending others’ wills to their own, and for absorbing the life force from their prey. They can communicate through dreams and are most dangerous in packs. The leannán have a penchant for dressing in black, a sign of mourning for their former lands in Ireland.

  Púca (POO-kah) - A skilled shape shifter that prefers the form of a rabbit, colt, or beautiful black-haired woman. A púca will lead someone away from harm or, just as easily, kill them herself.

  Danu (Da-NOO) - a deity in the Celtic pantheon; the mother goddess. Creator of the sídhe. Often invoked.

  Kelpie (KEL-pee) a faerie that lives in oceans, lakes, and streams. They naturally appear as a horse but can shape shift into a man or woman, though they often retain their hooved feet.

  Grogoch (Gruh-gOCH) a faerie that originated from Scotland before settling in Ireland. They remain invisible to everyone, except those whom they trust and, when seen, resemble little old men covered in a thick coat of red fur.

  Redcap (RED cap) an evil, murderous goblin who gets its name from dipping its cap into the blood of its victims. Reclusive and opportunistic with no known loyalties, they live in colonies along the borders between countries. The one colony that settled in North America resides on the border between Minnesota and Canada.

  Dryad (DRY-uhd) a tree nymph. The Irish druids took their name from the dryads after having received a gift of their magic. The dryad’s song calls all other faerie to a faerie ring.

  Tír na nÓg (TEER-na-NOEG) - the land of everlasting youth; the sídhe version of heaven.

  Mo cuisle (mah KOOSH-lah) - Term of endearment. Literally “my pulse.” Shortened form of a cuisle mo chroidhe, or “pulse of my heart.”

  Anamchara (AHN-am KAR-ah) - Soul mate; fated mate.

  Cailín (Cah-LEEN) - Girl.

  Glamour (GLA-mer) - n. enchantment; magic; v. to glamour. The act of creating something by means of enchantment or magic.

  Eitilt (EH-till) - v. to fly. It is the origin of the anglicized slang term “to tilt,” used by the sídhe to describe the act of dematerializing and transporting themselves through space to places they can see in the distance or have visited before.

  Chapter One

  DECLAN

  Thursday Afternoon in Late November

  Declan MacConall sat on the examining table in Doc O’Se’s office, the only medical clinic that served the sídhe community in northern Minnesota. It seemed he’d been sitting there forever, but there was no clock in the room to test his theory. Its absence was likely intentional. He wondered how long he should wait, and if maybe Doc had forgotten him.

  The paper crinkled under his bare ass, and he considered walking that bare ass out into the hallway to ask about the hold up.

  His anxiety kicked up a notch when he wondered if it had been even longer than he thought, and that perhaps it was after five o’clock. Could the clinic have closed? Had everyone gone home, leaving him to sit there?

  Doc wouldn’t do that, would he?

  Why not? Your brother Cormac may be home now, but he left ye for fifty years. He didn’t even look back.

  The air conditioning unit hummed in hyperdrive, creating enough cold air to raise the golden hairs on his arms. “It’s bloody November,” he yelled at the ceiling.

  There was a click and a soft chuckling behind him as Doc walked in. Doc was daoine sídhe—the faerie clan that had adapted best to the human world. All of his staff members were daoine, as well. If you couldn’t tell from their lavender eyes, their formal manners were always a good tip-off.

  “I’ll tell Mary to turn off the A/C. She must have glanced at your chart and thought you’d run on the warm side.”

  Declan’s body relaxed. He couldn’t blame the new receptionist for the mistake. It was actually quite considerate, but it had been years since his body temperature had run as warm as the rest of his clan. Salvia had a way of messing up a whole lot of t
hings for a cú sídhe—more so than it did for humans. Trying to beat his addiction was a full-time job, making his internal thermostat the least of his worries.

  “Now, I’ve reviewed your test results, and—”

  Whatever Doc was saying was lost on Declan because someone else had entered the room. He didn’t have to look. It was Rowan McNeely. Nurse Rowan McNeely.Not only did Declan know her scent, but every time she was near, his head filled with so much noise he could barely think, let alone hear. It was like being caught in a tornado, or sticking his head in a washing machine on spin cycle.

  He quickly glamoured a paper gown to cover his nakedness. As a rule, daoine females were sheltered and naive, but Rowan was different. She was a nurse, so obviously she’d seen a lot. Covering up was, therefore, much less for her modesty and more about his own vanity.

  For the last two years, Doc had been sending Rowan to Declan’s house to give him his monthly injections. Every time she showed, Declan layered on the clothing. Though he’d put some weight back on in recent months, he hated for her to see how thin he still was.

  It was too late now, though. She’d surely got a good look at his back when she came in the room, and the paper gown didn’t add much bulk.

  “Son?” Doc asked.

  Declan jerked his head up. “What?”

  “Did you hear anything I said?”

  “I’m sorry. I must have spaced out for a second.” He did that a lot when it came to Rowan. He didn’t know if it was the way her hair reminded him of the sunrise, or the regal way she carried her height, or the slender grace of her pale neck. When she conducted her house calls, he found himself staring at her neck a lot.

  Doc furrowed his brow and asked Declan to remove his glasses. When he did, Doc pulled up Declan’s eyelid and flashed a small intense light at his pupil. It was so bright, Declan jerked his head away.

  “Are you feeling okay?” Doc asked, this time a little more loudly.

  “Other than being blinded? Yeah. Stupendous.”

  Doc frowned and put the little flashlight back in his pocket. “What I was saying was that I’d like to start weaning you off the opiate antagonists and intensify your treatment in terms of counseling, lifestyle changes, and the like. I don’t want you to trade one addiction for another. You need to start thinking about your future.”

  Declan repressed the low growl that struggled to break free from his chest. Ever since his parents were slaughtered in their own kitchen, he’d lost faith in the future. What he needed was for everyone to stop fussing over him. If he relapsed, so what? They were all going to die anyway. Why delay the inevitable?

  “We can start this weekend,” Doc said. “Trial run. You’ll need to talk to your brothers about it because I’ll want someone to be monitoring you closely, around the clock.”

  Declan slipped his glasses back on his face. “My brothers will be gone this weekend.”

  Doc leaned back in surprise. “Both of them?”

  “Cormac’s getting married.”

  “I see!” Doc exclaimed, his whole face brightening. “Wonderful news! I hadn’t heard. You’ll want to attend, of course.”

  “I wasn’t gonna go.” He had his reasons. The least of them being that it all seemed so pointless. Cormac and Meghan had both been nearly killed two short months ago. Losing a partner would have been bad enough. Why put yourself through the pain of losing a spouse?

  “What are you talking about?” Rowan asked, taking two steps closer to the examination table.

  At the sound of her voice, Declan’s gaze, which had been intentionally focused on the floor, jerked up to her face. As a rule, he was pretty good at reading faces.

  Rowan McNeely had the same pale lavender eyes as all the daoine sídhe, but unlike the typical cool arrogance of their clan, her eyes always carried an intelligent warmth. Except for now. Right now, they flashed at him with disapproval.

  “Are you insane?” she asked. “You can’t miss your own brother’s wedding.”

  Declan looked back at the floor. “Cormac’s okay with it. Meghan, too. It’s not going to be anything big, and they only need one witness.”

  “But should you be home alone?” Rowan asked, and her voice shot through him like an arrow. He hated how she worried about him. It wasn’t natural. He should be the one to worry over her. “I mean…” she added hesitantly. “Is it safe?”

  He forced himself to look up at her again, and he gave her a wry smile. “Now, love, when was safe ever fun?”

  Her face flushed a lovely shade of pink, and he saw her work to swallow.

  “Rowan makes a good point,” Doc said. “And I would like you to start as soon as possible. If Aiden is willing to loan out his room for the weekend, how about I arrange for some in-home care to monitor your progress in their absence?”

  “Whatever.” Declan honestly didn’t care. It was easier not to, and he needed to speed this up. The room was small and Rowan’s presence was starting to fuck with his equilibrium. It would not be cool to suddenly keel over.

  “Ms. McNeely?” Doc asked turning toward her suggestively. “Is your schedule open this weekend?”

  What? Declan thought, realizing too late that his amenability had been a massive mistake.

  “NO!” Both Declan and Rowan simultaneously blurted out their refusal, then they jerked their heads to look at each other in surprise. Declan’s face flashed with heat, and he watched as Rowan’s cheeks flooded with color.

  “Um. What I meant,” Rowan said apologetically and tugging at her pale green scrubs, “was that my father expects me home on the weekends.”

  Declan tried not to snort in derision. The male daoine were, as a rule, strict and overbearing. He’d heard stories that Rowan’s father was worse than most, and he resented the fact that fathers like hers survived while his lay moldering in the ground.

  “I can wait until my brothers get back to start the weaning,” Declan said, sounding—he hoped—more rational than frantic, because being alone in his house with Rowan McNeely… He couldn’t think of anything more agonizing.

  Doc looked at him like he was being ridiculous. “Are you sure? I’ve got other options.” Then he started thinking out loud, running through his potential staff alternatives. “Fiona has small children at home. I couldn’t ask her to leave them for a weekend. Ciera hasn’t had a day off this week, but then again… Maybe she wouldn’t mind the overtime…”

  “Ciera would be fine,” Declan said, grateful to have dodged the Rowan-shaped bullet. “I wouldn’t want to burden Ms. McNeely if she has family issues. Ask Ciera to come.”

  “Wait!” Rowan said abruptly. “I can do it. It’s no burden.”

  Declan and Doc both blinked in surprise at her sudden change of course.

  “It’ll be fine,” she continued, as if trying to convince herself. “I’m perfectly capable. I’ll figure something out with my father.”

  Declan had no doubts whatsoever about Rowan’s nursing capabilities. Out of all of Doc’s nurses, she had the best touch. She never had to poke him twice to hit the vein. It was everything else that tied him in knots.

  “Good,” Doc said, sounding relieved. “You were already scheduled to give him his injection tomorrow.” Then he turned toward Declan. “Let’s have her stay a few days… See how you do without the treatment… If it turns out you’re not ready, she’ll be there to see you through, and we can reassess. If things go well, she’ll be there to manage your diet and note your vitals so she can report back to me next week.”

  Doc smiled broadly—nearly triumphantly—as he added, “I’m glad we got that settled.”

  Settled? What a joke. Declan was feeling a whole lot of things at the moment. Settled didn’t even make the list. As much as the thought of Rowan spending the night in his house made his blood sing, the last thing he needed was for her to witness him screaming and curled up in a corner when the anticipated injection didn’t come.

  Chapter Two

  ROWAN

  Thursd
ay Evening

  Rowan McNeely sat in her Mini Cooper outside the clinic and turned up the heat. A trickle of adrenaline that was half fear, half anticipation was seeping through her veins, making her whole body tremble. She curled her hands around the steering wheel for support. What a colossal disaster her life was turning out to be!

  She blamed Doc for this latest debacle. Ciera, too. The way Rowan figured it, she wouldn’t be in this predicament if Doc hadn’t suggested Ciera as the alternative for Declan MacConall’s weekend care.

  This was because, two months ago, when Rowan had been out with Ciera and Fiona at Delizioso, Declan had walked in with his brothers. It was the night the bean sídhe had shown up—which should have been the moment that made the deepest impact. Instead, what Rowan remembered most clearly was Ciera’s commentary on the MacConalls’ entrance. “Mmmm, honey. All three of those brothers make my cunny quiver, but that middle one… By Danu, he could take me allll the way home, if you know what I mean.”

  Rowan got her meaning just fine, thank you. In fact, Rowan’s face went so blazing hot at Ciera’s meaning that she had to guzzle down her glass of water.

  Until that moment, if anyone had asked her, Rowan would have denied having a jealous bone in her body. That was because, until that life-changing moment, she had no idea how deeply her monthly visits with Declan MacConall had affected her.