This was why she adored this man. No matter how bad her day had been, his irreverent sense of humor never failed to lift her spirits. Other than constantly trying to get her to pose for him, he was the perfect gentleman. He was her defender and her friend and, occasionally, a broad shoulder to cry on.
"What did you buy now?” she moaned, trying not to sound as excited as he was. Damien was a gadget junkie and she found herself just as hopelessly intrigued by the things he bought.
"Oh, you'll like this,” he grinned as he helped her up.
She limped after him as he headed for the kitchen nook he affectionately called the cave. It was merely a corner of the upper apartment with cupboards and a two-burner stove. A tiny fridge served as a clutter catcher at the end of the counter. The small, granite-topped island half-heartedly pretended to separate it from the sprawling room.
There wasn't much counter space but every square inch of it was covered. A countertop grill hogged the end along with an array of spatulas, tongs and even an odd contraption was a whisk, tongs and a spatula all in one. It looked like a torture device from the Inquisition, Star thought, amused. The ice shaver was half hidden behind the toaster and the bread machine. The microwave, while large enough to heat a single frozen entrée, was somewhere under the pile of tinfoil pans, hot pads, half-burned candles and several illegible sticky notes. There was even a battery-operated corkscrew for those dates he never invited here to share the wine he never bought.
And that was just the kitchen. He had boxes of full electronic things that did heaven knew what piled beside his bed under the Hamm radio he still swore he was going to get working again. Every game system known to man was strung from his television though they were used very little. At least he didn't have the motorcycle in pieces in the studio anymore. It hadn't even been a Harley and the gasoline fumes had been less than fragrant.
Star's eyes lit on a small, black machine, newly given the place of uncluttered honor beside the sink. “An espresso machine,” she breathed reverently. “Oh, Damien, I think I'm in love."
"I knew my charm and good looks would get to you sooner or later."
Her eyes were bright with excitement as she smiled up at him. “Can we play with it?"
He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “Only if you sleep with me first,” he teased.
It had been the worst day she had endured in decades. Nothing had gone as planned and the people mucking up her life were people she couldn't directly challenge. Damien was another matter altogether.
Nibbling her lip, Star smiled as she moved closer. Damien's eyes flared as she reached out to stroke a hand over his bare chest and he groped behind him for the counter for support. Her braid slithered over her shoulder as she looked up at him from under her lashes to see his Adam's apple bob convulsively. She leaned closer, her breath brushing across his skin and she would have sworn he stopped breathing altogether.
"No,” she whispered in a soft, sultry voice. “Not even for a string of coffee shops all my own."
It took a moment for the words to penetrate his brain and he flushed. “Tease,” he mocked her, his voice rough.
Star laughed and stepped away. “Hardly. Damien, you don't want to sleep with me any more than I want to sleep with you. Nice idea but not in this realm of reality."
"Speak for yourself.” He cleared his throat and crossed his arms again a bit defensively. “Sex is fun, Twinkle Toes. You should try it some time."
"Damien, you don't love me any more than I'm in love with you,” Star argued, turning away. She had meant it as a joke. Now it looked like she had offended him.
"What has that got to do with it?” He didn't sound angry. She chanced a peek. No, he looked confused. “We wouldn't be hurting any one."
Star rested her hands on the countertop, abruptly serious. “You're right, Damien. Right now, tonight, it probably wouldn't matter. But what about next week? Or next month? You're not in love with me and someday, when you meet someone you can fall in love with, it will matter."
"Hey, Star-bright, don't get all philosophical on me now,” he protested. “I want sex and you want coffee. Looks like we're having coffee. But I am ordering pizza,” he warned. “There's only so much a man can do on an empty stomach and figuring out the instruction manual is one of them."
Star accepted the peace offering for what it was. Damien handed her the small, thick book while he hunted for the cordless phone that turned out to be under a pile of laundry and dead. By the time he had finished swearing at it, she had already turned the oven on to heat and was rummaging in his freezer for a frozen pizza. Cheese on cardboard, she shuddered. Not her favorite taste, but for Damien and the chance to play with the espresso machine, she would endure it.
Damien ate the pizza while Star perched on a stool by the fridge and perused the instruction book. It took them an hour and two pots of wasted coffee before Damien managed to figure out what he was doing wrong and produced drinkable results.
Star took the first sip and felt her bones melt with ecstasy. The espresso tasted like a summer midnight, rich and full. Like a dream lover, she mused—hot and strong. It was coffee at its finest. She took another sip and shivered at the unadulterated pleasure that slid down her spine. She opened her eyes to find Damien watching her with an odd look on his face.
"What?"
He shrugged and looked away. “I want to be able to make a woman do that."
"Do what?” Star eyed him suspiciously over the rim of the coffee mug.
Damien opened his mouth and then shut it again with a shake of his head. “Nothing. If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you. Come on. Bring your coffee and come tell me what the deal is with your mom."
Star took another sip of coffee before sliding reluctantly from the stool. She didn't want to think about her mother and she certainly didn't want to talk about her. There were so many things she couldn't explain. As open minded as Damien was, she doubted he would be willing to discuss the faerie courts as something other than legends.
Damien claimed a cross-legged perch on the coffee table so Star sank down onto the futon, clutching her espresso securely with both hands.
"You hardly ever talk about your mom,” he noted as she took another fortifying drink. “What's the deal with her anyway?"
Star hesitated, trying to find the right words without scaring him to death or outright lying.
"Luna's something of a control freak,” she began slowly. “I'm the baby, you see. My three older sisters all buckle under just fine and jump when she says frog, but I'm more like my dad than my mom. I don't do the obedience thing very well and it totally drives her nuts."
"But what's up with her now? I mean, you're grown up and...” He paused. “Just how old are you anyway?"
"Old enough to drink,” she assured him dryly. Actually, she was two hundred and ninety-seven years old but she wasn't going to tell him that.
Damien looked ridiculously relieved. “Um, good. So what's her problem?"
"I haven't had a baby yet."
Damien, understandably, looked confused. “That's a bad thing?"
Star nodded. “To her it is. See, she doesn't really care if I get married or not, just that I reproduce. My sisters have all had at least one baby, so she's determined that I'm going to be next."
"I could volunteer to do the honors,” Damien offered with a grin.
Star shook her head solemnly. “You wouldn't want to do that, Damien."
"Why not?"
"Because you'd never pass her genetics testing and then she'd probably kill you for insulting her."
Damien stared at her, obviously waiting for the punch line. When none came, he straightened, his amusement fading. “Scarily, you say that like you mean kill-me-dead type kill me."
Star nodded. It was nothing to joke about. “I know it sounds really bizarre, but Luna is obsessed with breeding perfect bloodlines. It's one of those weird family traditions like green bean casserole but, unlike those fried onio
n things, this tradition has gotten people killed. It's not really unlike royalty breeding only to those of blue blood, you know. It's been a tradition that goes back to the dawn of time practically."
He was studying her intently as if he had never seen her before. “Family tradition, huh?” he said finally. “It may sound crazy, but I find myself believing every word. It would explain those perfect bones of yours. So, your mom showed up today and wants you to get knocked up. Right?"
"Yes. And she brought the candidate with her."
Damien's eyes flashed blue fire. “She what?” He practically shouted, his body rigid with fury. “Is this guy going to be a problem, Star? Because I know a few guys who'd help me show him just what a bad idea messing with you would be."
"Whoa! Damien! Cool down!” Star held up a placating hand. “It's not like this guy is going to rape me or that Luna's going to hold me down for him. Nothing like that.” Damien relaxed some but anger still glowed in his eyes. “Luna will argue and harangue and do everything else in her power to get me to agree but at the end of the day I have to agree. My willingness is one of the rules. The problems inherent in a child of rape and all that kind of stuff,” she ad-libbed.
He still didn't look happy.
"I appreciate your concern but I didn't come here for protection. I just don't want to have to listen to her go on and on about my duty and what a horrible child I am. I've heard it all before. I know what a disappointment I am. I'm just being a coward is all.” She sighed and drained the last of her espresso. “It's just been a crappy day and I wanted someone to talk to."
"Just what is this guy going to do, Star?” Damien growled the question.
"He's not the problem. I told you that."
"So, tell me about him."
Oh dear. It looked like his overprotective-big-brother streak was in full swing. Star sighed and set the empty mug aside, curling her feet under her.
"Tall, dark and handsome,” she quipped and then sobered. “Luna came to the bookstore today and I'm afraid I took off without thinking. I guess I was just shook up, but something he said keeps bothering me."
"What?"
Star frowned. “All the other times she's found someone acceptable, she's picked them. He said that he went to her."
"What is he going to do about it? I mean, if you pulled a rabbit on him, he's got to know that you're not interested."
"That was a given before he ever walked into the shop and he knew it.” Star puzzled over the little details of her morning confrontation. “No, he wasn't there to meet me, toss me on the counter and get it on, Damien. He was there to court me."
It sounded ridiculously outdated but that was the truth of it. The Tuatha de’ had left Luna behind and come after her, but he hadn't pressed the advantage of his larger size nor used her mother's blessing against her.
"He asked me for a fair shot,” she mused aloud. “No one else has ever cared about that."
"A fair shot?” Damien snorted. “How about I just beat him up and get it over with?"
The idea of Damien challenging one of the Tuatha de’ was ridiculous and Star chuckled. “He's not out to just jump my bones, oh big bad protector. He's different."
"Sounds to me like you are thinking of giving this loser a chance.” Damien rubbed his hands on his pant legs thoughtfully. “For the record, Star, any man with blood in his veins would want to jump your bones. You deserve better than that."
But the Tuatha de’ could have taken her easily. He could have dragged her back to the Fae Realm and forced her to marry him if alliance were what he was after. Instead, he had asked to be able to prove himself to her as if her opinion were important to him. Two more challenges, he had said. He had treated her with care and respect. She was still pretty sure that there should be three challenges, but she'd figure that one out later.
Star had no intention of giving the Tuatha de’ what he wanted but she couldn't bring herself to treat him disrespectfully. He was a formidable man and, while she would issue two more challenges, they would have be very carefully thought out.
"Star, honey?"
She jolted out of her reverie to find Damien studying her. “Yes?"
"Have you ever ... I mean, with your mother wanting you pregnant and all...” He trailed off awkwardly, a flush rising under his freckles.
Star yawned, the excitement of the day catching up to her. “No, Damien. Never."
"You're a virgin?” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat self-consciously.
Star didn't answer. Sleep was creeping over her tired mind like a soft wooly blanket. She had until tomorrow afternoon to think it all over. She felt Damien rise. He was back in moments, tucking a blanket around her. She didn't have the strength left to thank him. She would do that in the morning, she thought fuzzily.
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Chapter Four
Star made her way slowly toward the park, her hands tucked in her pockets. It was the midmorning lull, which made for fewer people on the streets. Traffic still pulsed past her in a mindless wave of rushing cars and hurrying bodies. Horns honked and music blared occasionally from a passing car. The air hung thick with exhaust and frustration.
She had left Damien sleeping, sprawled across his bed and snoring. She had no idea how long he had been up last night painting on his masterpiece, but the paint fumes had been strong this morning. It was an enormous piece that he was determined to finish in the next two weeks in time for his very first gallery showing. He kept it covered and while Star was tempted to peek, she refrained. It would make his surprise complete when he unveiled it at the showing and that meant a great deal to him. While she was glad he was finally getting the recognition that he deserved, Star could feel him sliding away into the life he had wished for so desperately. The loneliness was already starting to creep in around the edges of her existence.
New York was not a difficult place to be lonely in. You could never really be alone with seven million people crammed in around you. Lives brushed—arguments on the other side of the wall, a child's smile in the hallway or the muted murmur of a radio. But those lives seldom actually intersected. A person could live in the same building for years and never share a cup of coffee with their next-door neighbor.
Star headed into the park. A street singer strummed his guitar, crooning folk songs as people dropped coins into the battered hat at his feet. There was a book kiosk doing good business not far from the hotdog vendor. Dancers, actors and musicians rubbed shoulders here with artists and dreamers. It was a place that drew those creatively inspired. It pulled at Star like a lodestone.
Bypassing the garden paths of the conservatory and the jogging paths that would be overflowing with bladers, bikers and runners, Star cut across the wide expanse of grass, heading for the lake. She didn't want to be around people right now. She needed the open air where her thoughts didn't tangle on the noise and get lost in the fray.
The Fae were all part of nature, more so than humans were. They were all bound in some way to the earth and the sky, the light and the dark and the ever-changing seasons. They were bound to the dance that was life itself. Within the four realms of day and night, earth and air, a court held sway. The Tuatha de’ ruled the earth, balancing the Sidhe who ruled the air just as those of the Seelie court ruled the day to balance the Unseelie court who ruled the night. But the balance was a precarious one at best. War brooded like an ever-hungry vulture.
Centuries ago, Luna had decided that a true and lasting peace between the kingdoms would come when there were no longer any borders to be fought over, when a Fae's allegiance didn't belong to a single court but to all. Determined to see this dream come to fruition, she had decided to lead by example. Not one of her four daughters had the same father and none of those fathers were Sidhe. Now, it fell to those children to carry her plan one step further.
Star had been small when Stella had been bartered off to the Seelie court, bearing a pretty pixie of a daughter in due time. Aster had soon fol
lowed but things had not gone the way Luna had planned. Aster's son, Bendith, had been born twisted and ugly. Abandoned by his mother and ignored by his grandmother, the poor child existed on the gray fringes of the Sidhe court at Lough Lean.
Starla had agreed to birth a child but before Luna could choose a mate for her, she had gotten pregnant by one of the merfolk who were solitary and not affiliated with any court. The boy, N'Lir, unable to live out of the water, had been sent to his father's people. Starla had never stopped missing her son and spent most of her time by the sea in order to snatch every precious moment she could with him.
Then it had been her turn. Star rested her forehead against her arms and closed her eyes as the memories came. She had refused to go to the Unseelie court, terrified of the dark ones and their perversions. Luna hadn't asked the next time. She had sent Star under armed escort to the Seelie court and when that hadn't worked, to the gnomes. When they had been unable to keep her, Luna had decided that what Star needed was discipline. The imps had been a nightmare from the darkest pits of hell but it had been under their care that Star had realized the full import of her father's gift. Luna couldn't force her to have a child. Out of all the horrors that the imps had lavished on her, they had been unable to rape her—and they had tried.
But this ... No matter how hard she had tried, Luna had never been able tempt one of the Tuatha de’ into her cross breeding scheme. If Star gave in to this one, it would be quite a feather in the Moon Queen's cap. It was almost enough to make Star throw his offer back in his face.
Still, the question scurried around her brain like a rabid mouse. Why her? Her sisters were beautiful, powerful and willing. They had been proven fertile. She was disobedient and willful with absolutely nothing to offer a husband.
Star sighed and rubbed her face on her sleeves. The simple truth was she was lonely. She didn't want a husband or a child—not specifically. But she longed for companionship, the company of someone who could accept her for who and what she was. Damien held the ghosts at bay and helped her remember what it was to laugh but she had no right to hold him back from his future.
Faery Tail Page 3