Perhaps I didn’t want to stay after all. Especially if it meant watching the two of them together. Laughing. Whispering. Trading touches and secret looks.
I shoveled food into my mouth, barely tasting it. Tadgh removed the cloth with a flourish.
Cake.
That’s what Áine had brought in the basket. Tadhg set his bowl of berries aside and ate the entire thing.
“Tell us a story, Tadhg,” a human-sized faerie said from where she lounged. A few smaller faeries had wrapped themselves in the strands of her blue hair stretching across the grass.
“I’d rather he take off his shirt,” another muttered.
“Take off your shirt and tell us a story!”
“Leave yer shirt on and take off yer breeches!”
Infectious giggling erupted.
Tadhg chuckled and set the basket at his feet. “Since I haven’t the energy for much else, I suppose a story will have to satisfy you tonight.”
He rubbed his hands together, then launched into a tale about the Tuatha Dé Danann—a magical race of supernatural beings, witches, and faeries who first settled in Airren centuries earlier.
The history was filled with war, mostly from invading human nations wanting to conquer the island. Those who fought, lost. But those who agreed to live in peace were allowed to stay. This went on for hundreds of years.
I had heard similar stories before, but from the human perspective, where the native Danú were depicted as wholly evil, plaguing the land with magic. Two hundred years ago, the human king from Vellana led his vast army to victory with weapons of iron and ash. When the remaining creatures yielded, they agreed to the terms of a treaty constructed by the king.
Tadhg’s version spoke of how unfair it had been for the rightful inhabitants of this island to be given only a small swath of land and to be punished—even killed—for using their magic.
“Why are ye wasting the night listening to this old bollocks drone on about the past?” a deep male voice rumbled from the forest shadows. “I thought it was the fourth of the month.” A massive beast emerged from between two wide trunks.
A riderless black horse with glowing yellow eyes
No, not a horse.
A pooka.
A moment later, a second horse-like creature joined him.
Tadhg cursed and dropped his head into his hands. Áine let out an ear-piercing squeal and launched herself at the newcomers. The other faeries followed, the larger ones giggling and the smaller ones chirping.
It may not be safe.
Why hadn’t I listened to Tadhg? Faeries I could handle. But pooka? If the beasts hadn’t been blocking the path to the tower house, I would’ve escaped inside.
Twin bursts of magic left me temporarily blinded. When my vision returned, two hulking men stood amidst the faeries. The tallest one had hair as black as a raven’s wing falling to his shoulders. The white shirt he wore barely contained his broad chest and massive biceps. The only animal part of the pooka that remained were his eyes. The second pooka was shorter, his muscles less obvious, and his inky black hair cropped short.
The tall pooka smiled over the head of a faerie with her arms around him, flashing elongated canines made for ripping flesh from bone. Haunting yellow eyes landed on me and widened. “What do we have here?”
In a blink, he was in front of me, crouching so we were eye-to-eye. “A pretty little human has decided to join our soiree? Who invited you, pet?” He reached a hand toward my hair, then froze.
“Touch her and I’ll send you to the underworld,” Tadhg snarled, holding a blade against the pooka’s neck.
“Ah . . . she’s one of yours then.” The pooka sighed. “Pity.” His hand fell, but instead of leaving, he took the space beside me on the stone. “What’s your name, human?”
Tadhg swore and re-sheathed his dagger. “Lady Keelynn, this is Ruairi.”
“A lady. How fancy.” Ruairi leaned forward and sniffed. His nose wrinkled. “She doesn’t smell like a lady.” Yellow eyes turned to Tadhg. “But she doesn’t smell like you either.”
Tadhg’s hands clenched into fists. “Is anyone else coming that I should know about?”
Ruairi shook his head. “I couldn’t convince Rían to leave his hovel.”
I stiffened.
Rían.
The witch’s dagger at my back gave an answering pulse.
The Gancanagh.
I smoothed an unsteady hand down my skirts. “Who is Rían?” I asked as casually as I could manage, brushing some crumbs from my lap.
The pooka nodded toward Tadhg and grinned. “Rían is Tadhg’s younger brother.”
15
My mind was playing tricks on me. There was no way Ruairi had said Rían was Tadhg’s brother. No bloody way. That meant Tadhg was related to the monster who had murdered Aveen and had been lying to me this entire time.
I clutched the stone for support, trying to get my head around this.
The Gancanagh and I are well acquainted . . .
“Well acquainted” my foot.
“Keelynn? Are you feeling all right?” Tadhg asked. The pools of green I’d drowned in last night belonged to a stranger. A lying, manipulative being serving his own interests. He wasn’t helping me. He was helping himself.
“I’m fine.” Thank heavens for this cursed ring.
“Are you sure?” He knelt in the dirt and pressed a cool hand to my forehead. I could feel Ruairi’s eyes on the two of us. Watching. Assessing.
I didn’t want him to touch me. Didn’t want him near me.
“I said I’m fine.” I knocked his hand away and shot to my feet. Had he told Rían about me? Did the Gancanagh know I was coming to kill him? If I escaped to the tower house, the devastating revelations would only follow me. I didn’t want to think. I didn’t want to feel the all too familiar blade of betrayal slip between my ribs and cut out my heart.
Orange flames reflected off a deep green bottle abandoned a few stones over.
That’s what I needed. I grabbed it, but before I could take a drink, the bottle disappeared.
“What did I tell you about the wine?” Tadhg clipped, the bottle now in his hands.
Ruairi snagged the drink and handed it back to me. “If the lady wants a drink, then I say let her drink.”
Ignoring Tadhg’s narrowed eyes, I took a deep swig of faerie wine. Liquid fire flooded my throat, burning all the way down to my belly. I coughed, sputtered, and nearly lost my dinner.
Ruairi laughed so hard he almost fell off the stone. The faeries giggled as they passed another bottle from one woman to the next.
The muscles in Tadhg’s jaw pulsed. “That’s enough.”
He thought he could tell me what to do? He didn’t give a whit about me or my mission. There was no way he’d let me murder his own brother. Was he bringing me to Tearmann at all?
And to think I had felt bad for making him feel used last night. He was using me too—for the ring. Once he got his hands on it, he’d be gone.
The second drink didn’t go down any easier than the first and left my lips tingling and cheeks feeling too heavy to lift. The third brought about blessed numbness.
A hand clasped my elbow and dragged me toward the tower. “You’re going to bed if I have to lock you in the feckin’ room myself.”
“No, I’m not.” Tadhg’s grip was too tight to tug free. “I’m going to stay and have a chat with the handsome pooka.” How many times in my life would I be invited to a faerie party?
The pooka I had yet to meet watched us from the other side of the bonfire. Smoke twisted around his still form.
“Keelynn—”
“Let the human go.” A dark hand settled on Tadhg’s shoulder. The other pooka was glaring at Tadhg. “All it takes is one.”
All it takes is one? One what?
Tadhg let me go so quickly, I toppled over. The pooka caught me beneath the arms and set me back on my feet. Tadhg scowled at the beast’s back when he returned to the fire. The cloying
scent of magic tangled with woodsmoke, but Tadhg’s hands remained fisted at his sides.
A pale hand slid across Tadhg’s chest. Áine appeared from behind him with a coy smile. “She’s not worth it. Besides, you and I have some business to attend to.”
His rigid shoulders seemed to curl in on themselves, making him look smaller. “You can wait until I’m finished here.”
“I’ve waited long enough.” Full lips pursed into a pout. “You promised, remember? I’m calling in our bargain.”
The anger and betrayal churning inside me evaporated. There was no way of knowing what Tadhg had promised Áine, but it was clear from his narrowed black eyes that he didn’t want to go with her.
“Go into the tower and lock the door.” Tadhg’s voice was quiet. Resigned. “Please.”
Part of me wanted to give in as a kindness to him. The rest of me wanted to forget the entire exchange.
Áine’s hand clamped around Tadhg’s wrist, and she tugged him toward the forest. Tadhg glanced at me from over his shoulder as if he was waiting to see what I’d do.
I chose the fire and the wine.
My body swayed as I crossed the grass, vaguely aware of faeries dancing and drinking and climbing on top of the smaller pooka, removing his shirt. There was music coming from somewhere, fast and heavy, writhing with the flames licking the sky.
“Have a seat,” Ruairi said, patting the stone next to him, “and tell me why my best mate threatened to kill me over ye.”
I freed the wine from his grasp and decided to answer honestly. “I haven’t a clue.”
It really wasn’t so bad, this faerie wine, once you got past the eye-watering sting and revolting taste of rotten fruit. Before I could take another swig, Ruairi plucked the bottle from my hand.
“What happened to, ‘if the lady wants to drink, let her drink?’” I swiped for the bottle and missed.
“That was for Tadhg’s benefit.” Ruairi shook the bottle. “A few more drops of this and yer going to forget your own name.”
“Maybe I want to forget.” My name. My mission. The intoxicating taste of Tadhg’s lips.
Rauiri’s grin flashed, revealing those fangs. “It’s not worth a day of retching, believe me.”
I should’ve been running away. Instead, I edged closer. “I disagree.” I’d take the threat of retching over the sting of betrayal any day. I gestured toward the bottle. Ruairi handed it over, albeit reluctantly. “Tell me about Tadhg’s brother,” I said, my words slurring together.
“Ask Tadhg tomorrow when he gets back.”
Tomorrow? He was going to be gone all bloody night? The hollowness in my stomach got worse. “We’ve been traveling for over a week, and he has yet to tell me anything about himself or his family, so I’m pretty sure he’s not going to tell me tomorrow.” Or the next day. Or the next day. Or however long it was going to take us now that we had no carriage.
“Ye’ve been together for a feckin’ week and ye haven’t—” Ruairi’s words trailed off. “Never mind.” He took back the wine. “If he didn’t tell you, then I’m sure he has his reasons.”
Tadhg had his reasons, all right. He was obviously trying to protect his brother from death by the witch’s blade.
The bottle stilled halfway to my mouth.
I was some fool.
Of course Tadhg was protecting his younger brother. Aveen would have done the same for me, no matter what atrocities I’d committed. How could I fault Tadhg for siding with family over a stranger wielding a weapon capable of killing immortals?
Which led to a bigger question: could I really kill Tadhg’s brother?
There was far too much wine in my system to find an answer.
Speaking of wine . . . Dammit. The bottle was almost empty. The other pooka and his faerie companions were passing one between them.
Ruairi watched me through narrowed eyes, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Tadhg won’t be happy if ye drink yerself into a stupor.”
“Tadhg can shove off,” I said, standing and stumbling toward the faeries. By the time Tadhg returned, I wouldn’t know his name.
“Dammit, Ruairi. What’d you do to her?”
“Me? I didn’t do a feckin’ thing.”
“Why isn’t she in the tower?”
“Because she insisted on waiting for ye.”
Something warm scraped against my cheek. “How much did she drink?”
“Not as much as she wanted, but considerably more than she should’ve.”
Arms slipped beneath my legs. Behind my back. Tadhg’s neck smelled like candied almonds. Did his skin taste as sweet?
I decided to check.
Mmmm . . . it tasted better.
His grip on me tightened. “Did you just lick me?” he choked.
“You taste good.”
“Feckin’ hell, woman. You must’ve had a lot of wine.”
Had I? I couldn’t really remember. “What took you so long?” Was it morning already? He’d been gone ages. I vaguely recalled dancing around the bonfire with the faeries and the other pooka. And a river. Had we gone swimming?
“Shhh. Go back to sleep.”
My body shifted against Tadhg’s chest as he carried me through the darkness to the tower. Torches attached to the stone hallway fought to keep the shadows at bay. Tadhg stopped at the first door, checked the handle, cursed, and moved on to the next one. He did the same for a few more, until one opened.
The simple room had a small cot against the far wall highlighted by a silver of moonlight drifting through the lone window.
Tadhg set me onto my feet but left a hand around my waist, keeping me steady. The stones were cold on my toes. Where were my boots? Hold on. Where was my bloody dress?
Memories prickled in the back of my mind. A giggling, blue-haired faerie. Me laughing with her as we exchanged clothes. Her dancing around the fire in my mourning gown, spinning until she collapsed.
The faerie’s dress I wore shimmered from the scooped neckline to where it ended midway down my thigh. Cool night air slipped beneath, making me shudder.
Tadhg squeezed my waist. “Can you stand on your own or do I need to bring you to the bed?”
“It would’ve been the second one if you hadn’t gone off with Áine.” I stumbled forward and cracked my knee against stones. What fool thought to put a bloody wall there in the first place?
“Yes, well, I didn’t have much of a choice.” His boots scraped across the stones when he stepped toward me. “You need to get some sleep. Don’t forget to lock the door.” He tapped my shoulder. “Did you hear what I said? Lock the—”
“I heard you. Lock the bloody door.” Where was the lock? I couldn’t see—Oh, there it was. It looked complicated. “Why does it matter? It’s not like a lock could keep one of you out.”
“I’ve already told you that evanescing into a locked room breaks one of our most important laws. So, while a lock technically wouldn’t keep us out, there’d be hell to pay if anyone came in.”
I squinted at him, expecting green eyes but seeing only black. The darkness was somehow linked to his magic. Magic I wanted to feel thrumming in my veins and sliding along my skin.
If I didn’t stop thinking about it, my heart was going to explode. “Who’s going to come in here?” I asked, licking my dry lips.
Tadhg smoothed his thumb along the ring’s twisted gold band. His gaze dropped to my mouth. “A terrible monster who wants to take advantage of your inebriated state.”
I lifted to my toes and kissed the pulse at his throat, lingering to taste his skin again. A featherlight sensation brushed my ankles, like a cat’s tail.
“Do you think the monster would like my dress?” I whispered.
Tadhg’s throat bobbed when he swallowed. His finger traced the neckline, then dipped below as his magic brushed against my trembling knees. “He would love your dress.”
“He wouldn’t think it was too short?”
A hand slipped along the outside of my thigh, up to and b
eneath the hem to knead my bare hip. “He’d think it was just right.”
I was mad at him about something, but all I could focus on was his lips as he closed the gap between our mouths. Achingly slow. Testing. Teasing. Grazing in the faintest whisper.
“This can’t happen again. You said that.” His hips ground against mine, and I could feel him straining against his breeches. “We don’t even like each other.”
“I lied,” I whimpered, my hips rolling, desperate for friction. He felt so damn good, but I knew what would feel even better.
Tadhg groaned, nipping my bottom lip, “Next time I tell you not to drink the wine, I suggest you listen.”
I was about to catch his belt and then he vanished.
“Lock the damn door.” His throaty command echoed through the hallway
I slammed the door and jammed the lock into place.
16
A deafening rattle broke through the haze of my drunken slumber. The hangover from the stout had been nothing compared to the unforgiving vice currently squeezing my head from all angles. Thankfully, someone had left a bucket and a glass of water beside the cot. So much for the laws about locked doors.
Where the hell was that noise coming from? A groan escaped as I shoved myself upright and reached for the glass. The water had a slightly sulfuric taste, but I drank like a woman too long in the desert. The rattling came and went, loud at first, then fading to a high-pitched whistle before rattling again.
My restless sleep had left the sparkling dress bunched around my waist. Trickles of memories returned through the fog.
Last night, I had been willing to give Tadhg all of me, and he’d left. He’d probably been up half the night laughing with his friends about the pathetic human. What had I been thinking, throwing myself at him like that? I was no better than a bloody hedge whore. No wonder he hadn’t wanted anything to do with me. The sooner we parted ways, the better.
Which meant I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself, collect my things, and get to Tearmann. I slipped a hand beneath the pillow, searching for the witch’s dagger. Dammit. It wasn’t there. What had I done with it?
A Cursed Kiss (Myths of Airren Book 1) Page 16