Malakai

by Michele Hauf

  "I understand."

  "No, you can't possibly. I like you Rissa. Hell, I like making love with you." "No argument there."

  "But it's more than that. I think I could—"

  She pressed her fingers to his mouth. "Don't say anything else. Just go."

  The man finally nodded and grabbed his shirt. She hoped he would stay away, but sensed he would not. Because he could not.

  She had to leave town. It was the only way. But could she?

  "See you later, Casanova," she called, as he walked to the door.

  "After a while, sugar cube."

  "I don't like that name, you know."

  Now his devilish brow arched and a grin curved his mouth. "But you're all kinds of sweetness crammed into a tiny little package."

  Well, when he put it that way.

  "Rissa."

  She shook her head and turned away from him to hide the tear that spilled down her cheek. "Just go."

  His heavy sigh shuddered into her being and as the door closed, Rissa broke into a sob.

  Chapter Four

  This time she intended to buy food in the grocery store and not go home with a sexy werewolf for a night of toe-curling sex. Rissa placed a few peaches in her shopping basket, and quickly moved toward the broccoli. She kept her eyes down and her pace steady. If she sensed the darkly alluring, unavoidably irresistible Kai she'd hightail it out of there.

  "The festival is over for the season," a woman preening over the tomatoes said to her girlfriend, a tall blonde who juggled garlic, cloves and avocadoes. "No more Irish warrior."

  "That man wears the Sex God crown," the other agreed. "Such a Casanova."

  The hairs on Rissa's arms twitched. They were talking about him. Her wolf.

  "Have you been with him?"

  "Once," the blonde said. "Never again."

  "That awful?"

  "Are you kidding me? He was that incredible." Her words hushed out with reverence. "But seriously? I couldn't keep up with him. No one can. The man is insatiable."

  Time to leave before she started fondling the fruit again. Rissa veered past the gossiping pair, head down, and produce in hand. While standing in line to check out, she sensed the usual weakness that always began in her shoulders and hips. As if her muscles were strained from trying to hold up her frame. It was the telltale sign that she needed another lover. Fast. She required his life energy to maintain hers.

  She would not go to Malakai. She didn't want to kill him. Much as it killed her to stay away from him.

  The man in front of her turned and smiled. He was maybe late thirties and not unattractive. A pair of black-rimmed glasses gave him a sexy geek vibe. Though she hated beards. So scratchy.

  Rissa frowned and closed her eyes. No man would match what she'd had from Malakai.

  ***

  It was almost finished. Ooghna stroked her fingers along the ineffable sword blade that had sung to her for days while the werewolf had forged it over flame. Watching from within a glamour so he could not see her perched high in the open rafters of his work shed, she had grown to covet this blade.

  It was, without doubt, a faery blade. And why Malakai Saint-Pierre possessed such skill as to fashion the weapon was beyond her. Though suspicious of its nature, he could not be aware of its true power. With this blade, Ooghna could challenge the Unseelie king and unseat him from the throne that she desired. She'd been his champion, his underling for ages, fighting in his stead, always at his beckon.

  "No longer," she said in a silvery whisper that matched the sword's seductive hum.

  Dazzled by its song, she moved to pick it up, but then paused. A thing of such value must not be taken or stolen. The maker must gift it to the one he wished to own it, or else it would be stripped of its power.

  The chances of that happening? Nil.

  She must find a way to trick Malakai into gifting her the sword.

  But of course, she had an easy way to obtain it. For she held the boon against the Saint-Pierre family. And she suspected the werewolf Kai had fallen in love with a faery.

  Though she thrilled at the notion of holding the werewolf's heart, the pull of the sword was stronger.

  ***

  The jukebox in the Four Leaf Clover bar blasted Werewolves Of London. Kai lumbered toward the drunk who had called him Casanova. His fist ached to meet flesh. It had been days since he'd seen her. He was anxious and didn't require a reason to fight. He simply wanted to feel something. Anything.

  As he swung toward the mortal man, whose eyes flashed wide to see Kai coming toward him, suddenly his fist smacked the palm of a man who wrangled Kai about the neck and swung him around, marching him out the door at the same time the song's chorus broke into a wolf howl. It was dark out back and smelled like rotting fried food from the nearby dumpster. The streetlight revealed Kai's abductor.

  "What the hell are you doing, man?"

  Kai swung an angry fist toward the vampire, but he was quick and dodged the punch, returning with an iron fist to Kai's gut. The punch shuddered through his system. Kai stumbled against the wall.

  "Rev," he said, breathing through the remarkable pain. "Did my father send you?"

  "No, I happened to be in the bar," the vampire said. Revin Parker worked alongside Creed Saint-Pierre on the project that rescued captive vampires from werewolf packs, and he was a trusted friend of the family, as well as Kai and Kam's godfather. "What the hell, Kai? You don't beat on innocent mortals in bars. That's not your style. You look like…you've been on a bender."

  Hanging his head and heaving against the exhaustion that simple altercation had summoned in his muscles, Kai growled. He did feel like he'd been on a bender, despite having drunk two iced teas inside. It was being away from Rissa. He needed her, for no other reason than that she inspired him and gave him a reason to breathe.

  "I know you're not drunk because you don't drink," Rev stated. "But I've seen that desperate look before. Is it a woman?"

  The precision of that guess pierced Kai's heart as if a rapier point, penetrating and exiting out through his back. He winced.

  "I'm losing focus, Rev. I need her back. She's more than a muse, I think—hell, I think I'm falling in love with her. I don't like to be away from her. I can't function without her nearby."

  Rev's dark eyes glinted under the streetlight. "That explains a lot. Love is tough, buddy."

  "Why is that? Shouldn't it be easy and pretty like flowers and…sugar cubes?"

  "Oh, man, when a big ole lunk like you starts tossing out the poetic stuff then I start to worry. You talked to your dad about this?"

  "Can't. He doesn't approve."

  "I can't imagine why Creed wouldn't approve of a woman his son has fallen in love—" "She's a faery," Kai hissed out. He slammed his arms across his chest, and defiantly met Rev's knowing gape. "I know. I know. I did try to avoid her. After we got together. I didn't know she was faery the first time."

  Rev swiped a palm over his jaw. "I know about you and your sister's curse. Faeries are a dangerous match."

  "Says the vampire who is fucking a faery."

  "Don't talk smack about my wife. We've taken precautions so her dust won't affect me. It's been over two decades and I'm still clean."

  Kai raised a disbelieving eyebrow. Of the two of them, he wasn't sure who was worse off. Rev was a vampire in love with a faery whose dust could prove fatal should he become addicted to it. Kai wasn't affected by Rissa's dust, but he could already feel his heart pound in anticipation of some faery warrior sticking her fingers through his ribs to rip it out.

  "You want a ride home?" Rev asked.

  "Thanks, but my truck is down the street. And thanks for pulling me out of there. I don't know where my head was. I should be home working on the sword, but…I need her. You know? It's like she's become a part of me, and if I'm away from her too long I can feel her absence strain my muscles. And I think about her kissing me and touching me. Always."

  Rev whistled. "You want Bree to talk to
her?"

  "No. I—I'll figure this out. If it is love, I'll have to deal with whatever consequences come my way."

  Kai punched Rev on the shoulder and strode off without a goodbye. He eased his fingers over his bicep, surprised at how weak he felt. Like he needed a nap or something. How strange was that? He had been working in the forge a lot lately, and when he wasn't, he had been dreaming about making love to Rissa.

  Did he need to rest? He'd never felt so taxed. Maybe he was coming down with something. Could werewolves get the flu? No. His breed was not susceptible to mortal illness.

  At sight of his truck, and the shadowed figure sitting inside on the passenger's seat, Kai heart stuttered in anticipation. Was she waiting for him?

  He trod across the street to the truck and slid into the driver's seat, only to find a strange woman with black hair, streaked through with white, sitting on the passenger seat, smiling at him. A disturbing smile, actually. Forced, as if she were trying to make nice. Blue woad marked her cheek in three slashes and he spied a glint of crystal at her hip. And he knew, instinctively, who she was from tales his father had told him regarding his parents' deal to conceive.

  "Ooghna," Kai said flatly. He turned and gripped the steering wheel, not wanting to give her the pleasure of his complete attention. "I'm not in love."

  "Lie to yourself all you wish, wolf. I know differently. I can feel your heart pulse for the leanan sidhe."

  "Leanan sidhe?" Now he did look at the unwanted passenger and found her face was narrow and sharp like a warrior's blade. Her lips were painted with the blue woad as well. "What are you talking about?"

  "You don't know? But of course, the leanan sidhe would frighten off all her marks should she reveal her truth."

  "What truth?"

  "Syrissa was made leanan sidhe after she pissed off the Unseelie king, Malrick. She was once his courtesan but had an affair with the Summer knight. He cursed her a leanan sidhe and banished her to the mortal realm."

  Sensing the faery spoke the truth yet baffled as to what that truth meant, Kai feigned calm; when what he really wanted to do was grab her by the throat and squeeze until she expired. She was the one who held the curse against him and his sister. He must tread carefully.

  "Syrissa?" he asked.

  "The faery you've been fucking. You don't know what leanan sidhe is?"

  He shook his head. Did it matter? Yes, he was in love. There was no denying the pining in his heart, the constant thoughts of Rissa. And it wasn't because he needed her in his bed again; it was because he simply wanted her in his arms.

  He didn't care if she had once been some faery king's lover. Right now she was here and in his life, and she was…his.

  Except she wasn't his, and he felt her absence in every muscle and bone in his body.

  "It means she is a vampire sidhe," Ooghna explained. "Leanan sidhe feed on the life force of others. Through sex."

  Kai flashed her a disbelieving gape.

  "Constantly," she reiterated. "Syrissa must satisfy her body's demand for energy through orgasm and bonding with another. And in exchange for taking a lover who will feed her that life, she becomes his muse, inspiring his creativity while she slowly drains away his life and, ultimately, kills him."

  Kai closed his eyes tightly. He'd been so inspired lately. He'd thought Rissa his muse. And it was all because she was some kind of vampiric faery intent on sucking away his life?

  "When one lover dies," Ooghna said plainly, "she moves on to the next. And the next. And—well you can figure the rest. You're looking tired, wolf. I want that heart in good working order when finally I hold it in my hands."

  Now he did lash out and grip the faery by her hair at the back of her head. She mocked his aggression, sliding a crooked smirk up into her cheek.

  "Why are you telling me this?"

  "Because I can remove the curse," she said slyly.

  "So I can love a vampire faery? I don't think so. Take my damn heart and be done with it."

  "Is that so? Giving up like that? That's not the Malakai Saint-Pierre I know. You love her fiercely and with all your soul."

  "No, I don't. I only just realized—" Had he? He felt something for Rissa, but—a vampire faery?

  "You are going mad without her."

  She pinned his emotions pretty damned close.

  "Obviously it's because of her nature," he tried. "You said she becomes the man's muse? That's the only reason I desire her. It's not real love. So tough luck for you. My heart stays where it is."

  And his heart sank deep into his gullet as he spoke that realization. Truly? Was it false love because she was luring him into her dangerous web? He'd thought to finally know love. But…not real?

  There was one way to know for sure.

  "Remove Rissa's curse," he demanded. "You can do that?"

  "I cannot. Only Malrick can do such a thing. But with your curse removed you will be free to love whomever you wish."

  Kai dropped the faery onto the seat and slammed his head against the window behind him. Too much to consider; too many details. Loving Rissa could kill him? Then it didn't matter if the curse was dropped. One way or another he would die.

  And he presumed death by heart removal would be delivered right now since he'd all but confessed his love for the faery. It had to be real. Hell.

  Suddenly leery, he asked, "Why are you making this offer?" No boon with a faery was ever offered without expecting a return boon. "Wouldn't you prefer to take my heart?"

  "Normally? Yes. I can do wondrous things with a werewolf heart." A sweep of her fingers slashed iridescent dust in the air between them. "But there is another thing…"

  Hmm… So he had something she wanted? This grew interesting. Of course, what woman could resist his appeal?

  "Listen, sweetie, my Casanova days are over. Despite some wacky curse, I do love Rissa—"

  "I don't want you to fuck me." The faery made a throat clearing sound of disgust. "I want the sword."

  Kai met her gaze in the rearview mirror. Her violet eyes glittered with malice and the promise of his death. He wagered that crystal blade at her hip would neatly cut out his heart. But he also guessed the sword he had forged was valuable to any sidhe. He wanted to ask what she planned to do with it, but then it didn't matter.

  He needed to see Rissa again, to hold her and make love to her, and to look into her eyes and decide if, indeed, he did love her. And he must do it before she sucked the life from him.

  "Deal," he said. "You can claim the sword in two days. I will have it finished then. And the curse?"

  "Dissolved," Ooghna said. "Once I hold the sword."

  "And my sister—"

  "I'm dealing only with you, Malakai Saint-Pierre."

  "Then we have no deal. My sister and I are twins. We were cursed as one; you must lift the curse as one. I'll not allow her to suffer while I am able to walk free."

  The faery drew the crystal blade from the hip sheath and tapped it against his chest. "One day to complete the sword, and you win your sister's freedom as well."

  He gritted his jaws and nodded. "Fine. But I'm weak. She's already drained me. I'm not sure I've the energy to complete the sword so quickly."

  "You'll need a breath of life."

  Ooghna tipped the crystal blade under Kai's jaw and as he turned to face her, she leaned in and kissed him. It was a cold kiss that gushed down his throat and chilled his lungs and heart, but at the same time he felt his muscles tighten and his thoughts grow clear and focused as if touched by Rissa's inspiration.

  He had to get home to finish the sword and claim his freedom from the curse.

  ***

  Rissa slipped behind the billboard advertising the weekend fall bazaar on the sidewalk in front of the bar. She'd spotted Kai's old pickup truck and hadn't argued with her conscience for more than a few seconds. Desire won over her need to keep him out of danger. Hell, the vampire inside her had prodded her to go to him, bedamned her feelings regarding saving him.

/>   But as she'd taken a step off the curb to cross the street and approach his truck, she'd seen the woman sitting beside him lean in to kiss him.

  Kai had gripped her hair and they held the kiss for what felt like an eternity to Rissa's shattering heart. And when they parted, Kai had nodded, as if satisfied, then fired up the engine and drove away.

  Rissa hadn't seen the woman leave the truck, so she could only assume he was taking her home with him to his cozy little cottage in the woods.

  Clinging to the wood billboard frame, Rissa battled tears unsuccessfully. "He's a Casanova," she muttered. "He'll never love one woman."

  How could she have possibly feared he would fall in love with her? He had no need to worry about the family curse of loving a faery. Because he could not love. The werewolf had only been using her to satisfy his insatiable carnal needs. As he had done with every other woman in town. He loved them then left them, bedamned their feelings.

  "I loved you," she whispered. Swiping the tears from her cheeks she forced herself to lift her chin but a smile was impossible. Because her heart clenched and grew dark. "I hate you."

  Malakai Saint-Pierre deserved to be taught a lesson, once and for all. She would go to his home tonight. If another woman was there, she would get rid of her. Then, she would make love to him all night, draining him of the life force she so desperately needed to stay alive.

  And when he died in her arms, she'd not shed a single tear.

  Chapter Five

  She stood in his doorway, waiting an invite across the threshold. Pale cotton candy hair spilled over her bare shoulders. The sleeveless peach dress hugged her body like wet silk and revealed nipples and the curve of her belly. Kai's eyes averted up to hers, and the light from the kitchen behind him dazzled in her violet irises.

  His heart, already captive to her wiles, could not reason between his needs, desires, and selfish wants. He'd always been virile and horny and never went more than a few days without sex. It was just his way. So to determine what was real love and what was merely infatuation or lust had never been on his radar.

  Until now.

  Every molecule in Kai's being reached for Rissa, even as he pressed his palms to the doorframe to hold a fierce stance. Her sweet scent intoxicated him, making him weak, like he had been for days. Only now he was strong, thanks to Ooghna's kiss. And he'd finished the sword late this afternoon.