A Cursed Kiss (Myths of Airren Book 1)

by Jenny Hickman

  “We travel to Guaire,” Tadhg insisted, his tone matching mine and chin jutting forward.

  Padraig must have sensed the impending argument and retreated.

  “Is the Gancanagh in Guaire?” Tightness spread through my core. If he was close, then it may only be a matter of days before I could resurrect Aveen.

  Tadhg folded his arms over his chest. The muscles in his thighs flexed as he stretched his legs toward the door. “Not at present. But I have some business to attend to before we travel to his castle.”

  What did he think this was? Some sort of hired coach? We were here for one thing, and one thing only—and it had nothing to do with his bloody business. “What sort of business could you possibly have that cannot wait?”

  He looked like a pirate without a ship, or a rogue street performer. His “business” couldn’t be more important than my own.

  Tadhg pulled a silver flask from his bag, opened it, and took a slow drink. His eyes fixed on me, and then he smiled. “The type of business that’s none of yours.”

  Brilliant.

  Just bloody brilliant.

  I was going to be cooped up for the next ten days with an insufferable ass. Although I was used to men dismissing me, the sheer arrogance in Tadhg’s response made me want to claw out his eyes.

  To make things worse, if I refused to take him to Guaire, he could refuse to bring me to the Gancanagh. It seemed I was destined to be powerless, and the victorious smirk on Tadhg’s face told me he knew it.

  I asked Padraig to head south, silently vowing to allow Tadhg one day to complete whatever “business” he had.

  Padraig nodded, his mouth a grim line when he closed and latched the door. The carriage rocked slightly as he climbed to his bench behind the two horses.

  Leaning back in my seat, I kept my eyes trained on the scenery rolling past. Colorful houses blurred into a pastel rainbow as we traded the village for the countryside. The rich, green landscape was beautiful but with darkness looming, it was also dangerous.

  There was no telling what manner of monsters lurked on the other side of the hedges.

  Pooka—shapeshifters who feasted on human flesh.

  Banshee—wraiths who reveled in sending their victims to the underworld.

  The Dullahan—a headless being that used a human spine as a whip and drew out souls simply by calling a person’s name.

  The sluagh—hosts of the unforgiven dead.

  Malevolent merrow, wicked faeries, evil elves . . .

  Why humans had come to this cursed island in the first place, I would never understand.

  Tadhg brushed his fingers along the edge of the blue damask curtains. Back and forth. Back and forth. “I’m not sure if you realize this,” he said, “but you never gave me your name.”

  I hadn’t given him my name because I had expected our interactions to be minimal. Him on a horse trailing the carriage, me inside relaxing with a novel. Arriving at the Gancanagh’s castle, exchanging coins, and going our separate ways.

  “You may call me Lady Keelynn,” I told him reluctantly

  “Keelynn.” He drew out the syllables as if savoring each one.

  My stomach clenched in disgust. I did not like the way he said it.

  “Slender and fair,” he murmured to the curtain. “I suppose it would suit if you weren’t planning on committing a heinous murder.”

  Killing a murderer wasn’t murder. It was an act of heroism. Not that I expected someone like him to understand the concept of heroism. I’d read enough stories, heard enough tales, to know creatures like him were all villains.

  “I suppose it’s a good thing I’m not paying you for your opinion,” I shot back.

  A muscle in his jaw feathered, and his hand dropped to his lap. “Maiden Death.”

  Maiden Death? What is he on about? “Excuse me?”

  His hypnotic gaze pinned me to the seat. “I’ve decided I’m going to call you Maiden Death.”

  “You will not.”

  “Mmmm . . . I think I will. Yes, Maiden Death is the perfect name for you.”

  My hands flexed into fists. I forced them open and inhaled a steadying breath. Tadhg could call me whatever he wanted, but it didn’t mean I had to respond. We could spend the next ten days in silence for all I cared.

  Not ten days.

  It would be twelve days, at least, since he insisted on going a day the wrong bloody direction.

  His gaze slid from my face to my flexed fingers. “I see you’re married.”

  The ring on my left hand had felt heavy since the day Edward had slipped it onto my finger, like it was made of lead instead of gold. “I was married. My husband passed away.”

  As he stared at me, unblinking, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Did you kill him too?”

  He couldn’t be serious. “I didn’t kill anyone,” I said, refusing to turn away in case he mistook it as a sign of guilt. “Edward fell off his horse.”

  At least that’s what the missive from Vellana had said. It must’ve been a terrible accident because the coroner had insisted on a closed casket at the church.

  Tadhg’s head tilted as he rubbed a hand along his stubbled jaw. “Make it look like an accident. Very smart.”

  I refused to be baited, refused to say a word to him as long as he kept making terrible and unfounded accusations.

  “Unfortunately, you’ll have to come up with a different plan to murder the Prince of Tearmann. I’ve heard he prefers riding women over horses—and rarely falls off.” Tadhg chuckled to himself, as if this was all some sort of sick joke.

  My sister’s life—my life—depended on my success.

  “Allow me to make something perfectly clear,” I said, lacing my fingers together to keep from slapping his smug face, “you cannot shock me with lewd and inappropriate comments.”

  Aveen and I had used to hang around the stables with Padraig when we were younger. The banter we’d heard between the stable boys had been shameless.

  “That sounds like a challenge.” Black shadows swirled in Tadhg’s eyes, like the nightmare in the witch’s jar. That’s what Tadhg was: a nightmare disguised as a dream. For all I knew, he was as dangerous as the witch . . . or worse.

  “Why don’t we agree to keep our conversations civil and to a minimum?” I suggested. “It would make the journey easier for us both.”

  He’d keep his vulgar comments to himself, and I’d bite my tongue when he did something to irritate me.

  Tadhg huffed a laugh before gulping from his flask and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. When he looked back at me, his eyes were narrowed, but the shadows had dissipated. “I’ll consider it if you tell me what Fiadh took in exchange for the ring.”

  Hearing the witch’s name brought back the clawing pain in my chest. “You know Fiadh?”

  Long fingers drummed against the flask. “Everyone in my world knows Fiadh.”

  His world. A world of myths and monsters. In my world they existed; in his world they thrived.

  “What she took is no concern of yours.” The less we spoke about my bargain, the better.

  Tadhg’s knuckles, wrapped around the flask, turned white. “I can see the black curse living on your lips, so I know she took something.”

  He could see it? Oh god. Could everyone see it or just him? My hand flew to cover my mouth. And it was black? Was it as unsightly as it felt?

  “Was it your truth?” Green eyes narrowed. “Or your lies?”

  I flinched.

  “Of all the foolish, naïve . . .” He raked a hand through his hair, uncovering the tips of his ears. “Bargaining with a feckin’ witch. What were you thinking?”

  “I had nothing left to lose.”

  Tadhg’s brow furrowed as he studied me. “Everyone has something to lose.”

  Not me. Not anymore.

  “How did you know about the ring and the curse?” Did he know about the dagger as well? The hilt jabbed into my spine when I shifted on the bench.

  Tadhg drew
a fingertip across the skin beneath his eyes and held a kohl-smeared finger toward me. “This allows me to see glamours and curses.”

  Fascinating. Something like that would be handy to have on my mission. “Where did you get it?”

  Sighing, he dropped his head back against the wall. The trunk beneath him creaked when the carriage rocked. “I bargained with Fiadh.”

  We reached the outskirts of Guaire in time to catch the moon rising over the village’s small two-story inn. Fat raindrops splattered the deserted cobbled street. Lanterns hanging from iron shepherd’s hooks were reflected in the inn’s curtained windows.

  The moment we stopped, Tadhg shrugged into his overcoat and collected his satchel from the floor. After his revelation about the kohl, he’d finished what was in his flask and promptly passed out.

  “I’ll meet you tomorrow afternoon,” he said, reaching for the door’s handle.

  “Aren’t you staying here?” It wasn’t that I cared where he spent the night. But if he didn’t show up tomorrow, I wouldn’t know where to find him.

  His teeth flashed in the shadows. “Is that an invitation, Maiden Death?” He clucked his tongue. “Think of the scandal.”

  “It wasn’t— I didn’t mean—” Breathe. Don’t let him rile you. “How do I know you’ll come back tomorrow?” I ground out.

  “I suppose you’re going to have to trust me, now aren’t you?” Tadhg threw open the door, slipped through the gap, and headed toward the village.

  By the time I climbed out of the carriage, Padraig was at the door, offering a weathered hand. “Forgive me if this is out of turn, milady. But I don’t trust that . . .” Padraig hesitated, watching Tadhg’s retreating form disappear between two cottages. “That young man,” he finished.

  Tadhg was a creature.

  A monster hiding beneath handsome human skin.

  You’re going to have to trust me.

  Not bloody likely.

  “Your concern is appreciated but unnecessary, Padraig,” I said.

  I knew better than to trust someone like Tadhg.

  5

  Three days.

  That was how long we had been traveling in the wrong bloody direction. Every single time I had insisted we head north, Tadhg had threatened to abandon me if we didn’t go south.

  So what did we do?

  We rode south.

  Tadhg spent the hours in my carriage drinking or passed out on the trunk while I kept myself occupied with the handful of novels I had brought from home. It would’ve been bearable had we been making more headway.

  On the fourth day, Tadhg arrived at the inn late in the afternoon, sporting the mussed hair of a man not long out of bed. He had changed into dark green breeches held in place by a pair of black braces and the same wrinkled shirt from yesterday.

  There was no point asking where he had spent the night; he smelled like he’d bathed in women’s perfumes. I’d have bet all my silver that he’d spent the night at the bawdy house we’d passed on the way in.

  “I see you’ve been very busy with your important business.” I gestured toward the red mark shaped like a kiss peeking from beneath his open collar.

  Tadhg’s eyes narrowed into swirling black slits. “You think I like—” His mouth clamped shut and a pensive look crossed his face. “You know what? This isn’t worth it.” He turned on his heel and left.

  I was too stunned to call after him. It wasn’t as if I was out of line in pointing out the obvious. He was wasting my time, and this little tantrum of his wasn’t earning him any goodwill.

  I sank onto a low stone wall beside the carriage and stared down the alley where he had disappeared.

  “Where’s yer man going?” Padraig asked, easing himself onto the stones and stretching his legs in front of him. The soles of his old brown boots were unevenly worn, the left one almost down to the sole. I had offered to buy him a new pair, but he had refused.

  “I haven’t a clue,” I confessed with a shrug.

  When would Tadhg be back? Would he bother returning at all?

  “Did ye have an argument?” Padraig glanced sidelong at me, disapproval evident in his flat tone.

  Arguing with Tadhg would’ve been a waste of energy. “I simply pointed out that he has been wasting my time.” And I was this close to leaving him behind and asking someone else for assistance.

  Padraig pulled off his cap and crushed it between his hands. “It’s the truth,” he grumbled. The wrinkles around his mouth deepened when he frowned. “He’s taking advantage of ye, milady. And I’ve half a mind to tell him what’ll happen if it continues.”

  Like that would do any good. Still, I appreciated the sentiment and gave his knee a pat. He felt like skin and bones beneath his rough wool pants. Had he been eating enough? This journey was taking its toll on him already. The longer it lasted, the harder it would be for Padraig to endure.

  I made a mental note to buy some brown rolls for him to snack on while driving. “Thank you, Padraig. But I will handle him myself.”

  Assuming Tadhg returned.

  Padraig’s brow furrowed, and he shook his head. It was obvious he wanted to say more but refrained.

  “What would ye say to a game of piquet?” he asked, removing his faithful deck of cards from an overcoat pocket. Padraig’s cards were as worn as he was.

  I smiled and adjusted my seat on the flat stones. “I would say go on and deal, but only if you want to lose.”

  “That’s it.” I tossed my hand on the pile and folded my arms over my chest. “You’re either cheating or using magic. There’s no way you’re that lucky.” I hadn’t won once.

  “Luck’s got nothin’ to do with it,” Padraig said with a gruff laugh. “Yer too preoccupied today.”

  “Perhaps you’re right.” I was still trying to figure out what to do about Tadhg.

  If we kept on as we were, I would never reach my destination. Enough was enough. It was time to take back control. “Padraig?”

  Curious blue eyes met mine. “Yes, milady?”

  I handed him my cards and felt the tightness in my chest loosen. “Where’s your map?”

  Some time later, I saw Tadhg approaching from the road leading to the bawdy house. Having learned my lesson, I didn’t mention the additional red marks on his neck and chest.

  I smiled pleasantly and refrained from commenting when he demanded to be taken to another southern town. Padraig already knew he was to bring us north, to Buraos, no matter what. Without further delays, that would leave twelve more days of travel.

  Tadhg settled himself on the trunk and withdrew his flask from his bag before balling up his overcoat to use as a pillow. It was the same routine he had followed every other day. If I was lucky, he’d be passed out before we got out of town.

  “Let me know when you’re ready to apologize,” he said, the liquid inside the flask sloshing when he knocked it against his knee.

  “Why should I apologize to you?” If anyone deserved an apology, it was me.

  Tadhg shifted and the trunk creaked as he stretched his long legs toward the door. His boots left muddy streaks all over the carriage floor. “You have been nothing but rude and condescending since the moment we met.”

  I had been rude and condescending? He thought I was the problem?

  “I’m helping you, remember?” he added.

  “Helping me?” I gripped the edge of the bench. Heat climbed up my neck, and I felt my face flush. Did he think me a fool? “You haven’t been helping. You’ve been hijacking my carriage and using threats to keep us traveling in the wrong direction!”

  “Did it ever occur to you that I have a reason for heading south?” Tadhg’s eyes lifted heavenward and he muttered a curse to the low ceiling. “That I know more about my world than an ignorant human?”

  “I am not ignorant!”

  He twisted toward me faster than anyone should have been able to move. I pressed myself into the cushion at my back, desperate to put distance between us.

  “Y
ou are if you believe that you can best an immortal who has been on this earth for centuries,” he snarled, his lips curling back from his teeth. He threw the flask onto his abandoned bag and gripped his knees as though he was trying to hold himself back. The air in the carriage thickened. “I try to keep an open mind when it comes to humans, but you’re making it exceedingly difficult. First you want to murder an innocent man and then—”

  “The Gancanagh is not innocent.” And he sure as hell wasn’t a man. “He’s a murderer who seduces maidens and kills them with his poisoned lips.”

  Tadhg blinked rapidly, his mouth hanging open. Then he barked a laugh so loud it made me jump. “Where did you hear that load of bollocks? From your nursemaid? A crier?” He gestured toward my book on the bench. “One of your fairy tales?”

  “It’s the truth,” I countered, trying to keep the wobble from my voice. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to say it.”

  “Let me explain how a truth curse works.” Derision oozed from every syllable. “You won’t be able to tell an outright lie or break your promises,” Tadhg said, lifting a finger for each point, “but if you are ignorant and truly believe the myths and lies spouted by bigots, then you can say it without feeling like your skull is being crushed. If Fiadh didn’t use dark magic, this, like most curses, will last a year and a day.” He clasped his hands together in his lap and propped his shoulder against the wall like he hadn’t a care in the world. “Now, let me give you a second lesson.”

  Rage simmered in my chest, rising, rising, rising with each drawled sentence.

  “The Gancanagh is a shapeshifter. You know what that means, yeah?”

  It meant I was going to claw the smirk from his face.

  Tadhg raised his eyebrows as if he expected me to respond to the condescending question.

  I crossed my arms and ground my teeth together so hard it made my jaw ache. He didn’t deserve my answer.

  “I’ll take that as a ‘no.’ Don’t worry. We can circle back.” He rolled a hand toward the window. Outside, the sky was growing as dark as my mood. “As I said, the Gancanagh is a shapeshifter who determines his lover’s deepest desires and seeks to fulfil them.”