Bless Your Heart

by Kimbra Swain

  I opened it up to smoldering blue eyes like the hottest parts of a flame. He rushed into the house, and our bodies crashed together again. This time his fervor matched mine. He swatted the door closed, as I dropped the dress to jerk his shirt out of his pants. He kissed my cheeks and neck as I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. Sweeping my hands across his chest, I pushed the shirt off his shoulders and it fell to the floor. He had a light fluff of hair on his chest. I kissed it working my way back up his neck.

  Our lips met again, and he scooped me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist, digging my hands into his sandy hair. He sat me on the bed as I wrestled with his belt while he grinned at me.

  “You devil,” I said, and he unlatched it quickly pulling it off along with his pants. He pressed me down on the bed. Our bodies melted together to quench the hunger between us.

  I admitted it was different from any other sexual experience I ever had. It wasn’t love, but I knew of no other way to describe it. He built the tension between us until nothing would satisfy me, but having him. I was supposed to be the predator, but his tease game was on point. It was impressive for a human. My whole existence in those moments were consumed by the desire to fulfill his needs and make him mine if only for one night.

  When I woke up the next day, the sun shone through the blinds. Hearing Rufus whimpering at the door to go outside, I guessed we had locked him out of the bedroom. Dylan’s sleeping form took up most of the bed, and I was pressed up against his back. I kissed him lightly across the shoulders, then he turned to me.

  Touching my face, he kissed my forehead. “Thank you, Grace,” he said.

  “No, thank you,” I smiled. Relief passed over me as there was no profession of love. I feared we had crossed into that territory, but apparently, we hadn’t.

  “I have to go to work,” he muttered. He slipped out of the bed checking his cell phone in his pants pocket. “Yeah, I gotta go.” I watched him get dressed except for his shirt which was somewhere on the living room floor. He leaned over and kissed me lightly on the lips leaving without saying anything else.

  “Sweet Jesus, Mary, and Joseph that was good,” I told Rufus who jumped on the bed wagging his tail. I grabbed my silk robe and let the four-legged wiener out the front door. In the distance, I could see Dylan walking back through town with his shirt over his shoulder. Sexy as hell.

  Within the hour, I cussed myself for letting it happen. The heat of the moment had worn off. It didn’t matter how much I wanted him. I should have left the bar when I first spoke to him. Dylan and I had to work together because of my contract. I had lived in Shady Grove too long, perhaps it was time to consider a move. I hated to give up the comfort I’ve had under Jeremiah’s contract, but I ruined it for one night of heated passion.

  “Hey, get up! Breakfast is ready,” Dylan said interrupting my memory.

  “Oh, okay,” I said smiling at him.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  Blushing, I crawled out of the bed, “Nothing.”

  “Looked like a good nothing,” he said.

  “Shut up, Dylan,” I replied.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  As the men watched football, screaming at the television like they were in the stadium, I sat at the kitchen table and pondered how to track the wolf or wolves.

  “Grace, come watch the game,” Levi said.

  “I don’t care about that game, besides Dylan took my recliner,” I teased.

  “You can have it back or you could share it with me. Come on, Grace, quit obsessing for a few minutes,” Dylan said.

  There was a tiny knock at the door, and the room tensed.

  “I’ll get it,” Levi said.

  As Dylan pulled his gun to his lap, I scowled at him. “What are you going to do? Shoot the police? Or one of my neighbors?” I muttered to him.

  Then I heard a tiny voice say, “Oh, hi, I’m looking for Aunt Grace.”

  “Winnie!” I called out running to the door. One of the officers stood behind her.

  “You aren’t supposed to have visitors, Miss Grace,” the young deputy said.

  “Well, Mr. Kwaski,” I said reading his name tag, “You tell Wynonna that she can’t come see her Aunt? You go ahead, explain that one to the child.”

  “Ma’am, all due respect, you are accused of killing kids,” he said looking around behind me.

  I spun around, and Dylan was nowhere to be seen. I sighed in relief that he had enough sense to hide. Winnie started to cry.

  “Oh sweetie, it’s okay. What’s momma doing?” I asked. Her mother was a prostitute, and if Winnie was at my door, it was because momma had a customer.

  “The other poe-lice man wanted to talk to her,” she said. Darn kids. They will tell on you every time.

  “Hmph, well, Deputy Kwaski, I think Winnie could come in for a few minutes, unless I need to make a call to the ABI,” I sneered.

  “Okay, but leave the door open,” he relented.

  “Come in Winnie. Are you hungry, baby?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said.

  “Okay, great. I’ve got some leftovers from breakfast,” I said.

  “Do you have grits?” she asked.

  “Of course, I do. In fact, I’ll put cheese in them just for you,” I said. She jumped and clapped.

  “Yay. Can I color too?” she asked.

  “Sure. Levi, look in that box by the couch and bring those coloring books over here, please,” I said. I watched out the window as the deputy returned to his car. I warmed up the grits in the microwave, getting out a piece of slice cheese from the fridge to put in it.

  Winnie sat at the table, but when Levi came close to her, she whined.

  “Oh, honey, this is Levi. He’s Aunt Grace’s friend from Texas. He’s really nice,” I said.

  “Yeah, and I like to color,” Levi added. God bless that boy.

  “You do?”

  “Sure do. Can I color with you?” he asked sweetly.

  “Yes, you can, but you can only use the boy colors,” she said.

  They started having a great conversation on colors and gender. I laughed at them as I stirred cheese into the grits. I sat the bowl down next to her, and she devoured it. Winnie visited me often when her mother had gentlemen friends over. She’s the one that asked to call me Aunt Grace, because she didn’t have any other Aunts. It was darling. Making my heart warm with her cute little ways, I couldn’t tell her no. She was usually hungry. So, I kept her fed, buying new clothes as she needed even when she was at home.

  Her mother, Bethany Jones, was a prostitute and drug addict. I hated to see the child in that environment. I gave her free reign of the trailer. She was here often which was fine for me, because I adored her. Rufus did as well. He bounded over to her, and she giggled as he licked her face. She scrubbed him between mouthfuls of grits as she colored with Levi.

  When I ducked into the bedroom, Dylan stepped out of the bathroom. His face twisted with worry.

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t send her away,” I said, thinking his mood coincided with the arrival of Winnie.

  “It’s not that, Grace. I gotta go,” he said.

  “Why, what’s wrong?” I couldn’t believe I said it. I didn’t want him to leave.

  “I just got a call from the med center. They brought in Stephanie’s mother. Apparently, I’m still on the contact list. She’s had a stroke, and they can’t get in touch with Stephanie. I have to go down there. She’s in bad shape,” he said.

  “I understand,” I said.

  “I’m going to climb out the window and take a detour through the woods. Hopefully, they won’t see me,” he said.

  “You will do no such thing,” I said. “I can conceal you for a short time, and you can just run out the front door. Worse comes to worst, I can distract the deputy.” I waggled my eyebrows.

  “No, you aren’t doing that,” he growled a little too intensely.

  “Okay, well Levi can do it. Just get ready to go out. I
’ll conceal you in here, so Winnie doesn’t see you,” I said.

  “You are so good to that little girl,” he said.

  “She’s a sweetheart, and I hate that she’s in such a bad home. Bethany is a nice woman, but tied up in too much bad shit,” I said.

  His mouth met mine suddenly, and I barely gasped before he pressed his lips to me. It was like the last kiss in the street before he came into my home a couple of weeks ago. He was hungry, and it ignited the fire inside of me. I pressed down my desires because I knew he had to leave. He pulled away, panting.

  “I want you, Grace,” he said.

  “We can't. Not now. Not again,” I said, reverting to my normal protests.

  “I would make it worth the trouble,” he replied deviously.

  “Lord have mercy on me,” I laughed. “Are you ready to go now?”

  “Yes, but not the kind of go you mean,” he said.

  “Get thee behind me, Satan,” I said trying to delay his advances. He chuckled nervously, but his blue eyes burned like azure fire once again. A burning craving for another rendezvous with me. I swallowed, walking away quickly before I got lost in his intensity.

  “Levi, grab your guitar and sit on the porch. Play a lullaby,” I said.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Oh, you play the guitar?” Winnie asked. “I wanna hear!”

  “You have your first groupie,” I said. He shook his head, grabbing the guitar.

  “What’s going on?” Levi asked.

  “I’ll tell ya in a minute. Prop the screen door open with the brick on the porch,” I said.

  He shrugged and obeyed. Winnie followed him out on the porch.

  Levi began to play as Winnie sat at his feet, smiling up at him. She swayed with the music, and her eyelids started to droop. I watched the cruiser sitting in front of the house closely. Within just a minute, Deputy Kwaski slumped over in the seat.

  I rushed back to the bedroom, pulling the last remaining store of power that I had in my tattoo. Dylan’s lips locked to mine, and I touched his neck, feeding the power into him. He faded from view.

  “It’s weird kissing an invisible man,” I said.

  “Just think what it would be like to do it like this. You wouldn’t know what I was doing,” he said as his hands slid along the edges of my shirt touching my lower back.

  “Horny ass man! Go before the spell drops,” I said.

  “I’ll be back, Grace. I promise,” he said.

  “Be careful, Dylan,” I said as I felt the air pass me with a whoosh.

  I walked back to the porch, and Levi strummed the last chord. Winnie was asleep at his feet.

  “You are good, Dublin,” I said. “Bring her in here to my bed.”

  He scooped her up, and we tucked her into the bed. “She’s precious,” he said.

  “Yes, she is. She deserves better than what she’s got. Thank you for taking an interest in her,” I said.

  “I’ve always liked kids. Tell me about the magic and the music, Grace,” he said.

  “Sure, come in here.” I reclaimed my recliner.

  I didn’t know as much as I should about football, but I knew the red team was beating the orange team. That around these parts was the most important thing.

  “Dylan’s gone,” he said sitting back down on the couch.

  “Yes, there was a family emergency. He had to go,” I said. “I concealed him while you distracted everyone.”

  “He will come back,” he assured me.

  “It would be better for him if he didn’t. It would be better for me too,” I said.

  “You don't mean that, Grace,” he said.

  “Listen, Dublin, here are some cold hard facts to bust your romantic bubble. I am a fairy. I could tear through every dick in this town, and it wouldn't mean a damn thing to me, except that I would have to move again. I'm tired of moving around. Plus, my contract with the Sanhedrin limits my sexual contact with mortals. If I fucked you, they wouldn't care. However, I only get one Dylan every couple of years,” I said. “So, if he and I keep flirting with this line, the Sanhedrin will hunt me down and burn me.”

  “You aren't allowed to have a relationship?”

  “No,” I replied.

  “But Jeremiah teased you about Dylan being sweet on you,” he said.

  “Honey, that was a subtle warning to distance myself from Dylan. Jeremiah wouldn't hunt me, but the rest of them would,” I replied.

  “They can’t do that,” he said.

  “They can, and they will do it to you, too. As long as you are here with me, we abide by their rules. However, it’s becoming abundantly evident that I’m going to have to leave this town. I hate to leave Winnie behind,” I admitted.

  “So, get a supernatural boyfriend and stay,” he said.

  “Besides you, there isn’t anyone else here,” I said.

  “What about Chris?” I laughed. “What?”

  “Chris sticks to his kind,” I said.

  “Pigs?”

  “Wild hogs, yeah,” I said.

  “Ew,” he said.

  “He’s a wild hog himself when he isn’t shifted to human,” I said.

  “Are all his hogs shifters?”

  “Yes, and most of them are female. They are his hoggy harem,” I explained.

  “Oh, well, you learn something new every day, I suppose,” he said.

  “Your learning isn’t over for today. Your magic centers itself in your music. I’m not sure I’ve come across a bard in a century. The bards of old made up songs and stories about their patrons. Their talents exceeded the normal performers of the day. The royalty in the human world would hire them to record their conquests and sing songs about their feats. Many were also brought into the Otherworld to tell our stories. There is magic in storytelling. The South has a deep tradition in telling stories, passing them along to younger generations. As do many of the First People cultures. It’s a dying art form. Music, television, computers and technology in general still carry the stories, but not like the oral traditions. You have the ability to push your will out through your music. For example, the lullaby was to soothe, relax and induce sleep. A normal lullaby will do that in itself, but when you attach your magic to it, then it reaches a whole new level that you can make people sleep at your will,” I explained.

  “It could be dangerous,” he said.

  “Not dangerous, but it definitely could be used corruptly,” I rephrased for him. “Levi, when I said I was working on a tattoo for you, I am trying to find the best way for a tattoo to benefit you and your magic. I don’t want this to sound weird, but I think your tattoo should tie you to me. Because of my royal blood, it would protect you, but also give you the ability to act with your magic as if you had my blessing to do so. The old bards used to carry the markings of their masters in their clothes and gear. It gave validity to their work.”

  “How can you tie a tattoo to you?”

  “By using symbols. My tattoo is this filigree which is just an ornamental representation of being feminine. The red jewel represents the fire of summer. Rubies are July birthstones, and I was born in the middle of summer. My mother was a summer fairy within the Otherworld, and I am her child. I’m not tied to summer like she is but I get my power, because I am her child,” I said.

  He wrinkled his forehead, thinking for a few minutes. “The triquetra is yours,” he said.

  “It is, but it isn’t. It’s a general symbol, but the one in the forest is mine,” I replied. “We need to find something for you that ties you to me, but also symbolizes your power. Perhaps it would help if you knew your father’s name.”

  He hung his head, and I realized for the first time that sweet Levi was hiding things from me. I’d opened myself up to making him protected under my house, but now I could see his guilt.

  “My mother told me before she died that I was special because of my father. She told me his name was William Geancanach,” he said.

  I stood up out of my recliner, pacing across th
e kitchen and back, “Geancanach is actually Ghan Canna, which is a very powerful fairy.”

  “You know him?”

  “No, but I know his type. He’s a Love Talker, a seducer, but not in a bad way. He loved your mother and probably will mourn her all of his days. They develop relationships with mortal women on purpose to produce offspring,” I said. “I’m not sure why he hasn’t claimed you.”

  “He’s dead,” he said.

  “What? How do you know? What killed him?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure, but the Sanhedrin friend in Texas told me he was dead,” he replied.

  “The Sanhedrin killed your father,” I concluded.

  “Yes, I think so,” he said.

  “Bastards. They aren’t all nice like Jeremiah. Still, I wonder why they didn’t just pick you off when they had the chance,” I said.

  “Because I cut town one night and ran off to meet Lisette. After I met her on the internet, I grabbed a bus to New Orleans,” he said. “But the friend of mine in Texas said that I needed to be careful and that if I got into any trouble to head to Alabama and call Jeremiah. When I saw that demon rise out of the earth, I ran like a bat out of hell.”

  “They knew that he would bring you to me,” I said.

  “But why? Why not just kill me?” he asked.

  “Honey, I have no idea, but I’m glad you are here. Even though you’ve withheld information from me, I will let it slide this once, because you don’t really know me. I should turn you over my knee and spank you, but I think you’d get off on it,” I laughed.

  “It does sound like fun,” he replied.

  “Dear God!” I exclaimed. “Why don’t you go over and say hi to Bethany?”

  “No, Grace, that’s not what I want,” he said.

  “Yes, well, go mad then. You will have no one to blame, but yourself,” I said.

  “I’d get you to help me if it weren’t for Dylan. But I like him,” he said.

  “If it weren’t for Dylan, I’d oblige you,” I smirked.

  “Really?”

  “Hell yes. I told you there are no immortals in this town. I get bored,” I replied.

  “But Dylan,” he said.

  “Yeah, but Dylan,” I said without really admitting to anything. “There is nothing I can do. The Sanhedrin have me wrapped up, and I know that he deserves something better than me.”