Trina huddled into Logan and hid her face from the downpour. She had failed. She had no spells that could explode, conjure fireballs, or paralyze. Her fantasy of their being equals, of finding common ground enough to build something like a relationship, had been destroyed today. Ground to dust in the New Mexican dirt.
Logan was always astonished at the amount of stars you could still see through the earth’s pollution. The sun was long gone, the thunder clouds dispersed, and the clear night sky was now peopled by the Earth’s constellations as they made their way along the base of the Sandias and approached the home of the tunnel guardian.
Trina was clasped in front of him, lulled by Solanum’s easy pace into a restless slumber. She looked vulnerable, her face marred by road rash and bruises. He hated what he was about to do, but he had no choice.
“Sweetling, wake up.” She roused at the sound of Logan’s voice.
“Is the tunnel entrance close?”
“Yes, but we’ll talk about that later.”
“I don’t understand. Is it safe to sleep here?”
“We’ll be safe enough. This entrance has a guardian.” They approached the dark buildings. A light flicked on the front of the main ranch house and the front door opened a crack.
“Hail, Stephan Two-Trees,” Logan called.
“Who’s there?” A man’s voice answered from beyond the slit of the doorway.
“Logan Ni Brennan. And I’ve brought a guest.”
“I would think that was a lie, if the fae could lie.” A man dressed in jeans and nothing else stepped forward into the light. “I didn’t know you’d been released.” Logan eased Trina off of Solanum and dismounted next to her. “It’s definitely you, though. No one else would put up with a puca for a mount.”
“No one else would have the balls to piss off a puca.” Solanum retorted. “Do you need me, or can I go?”
“You can go. I’ll call when I want you.” Logan took Trina’s small hand in his and they stepped up to the house. “I request sanctuary, Stephan.”
“Fuck that. You know you’re welcome. Come on in.” Stephan pushed the door wide. “What did you do to the witch? She looks like crap.” Trina jolted.
Logan squeezed her hand in reassurance. “If you can provide some dinner, I’ll provide the story.”
“Bargain taken.” Stephan led them into the living room. “Sit down and I’ll get you some food.” The room was small and the furniture had seen better days, but Stephan looked the same. Long dark hair, a slender warrior’s build, and an elvatian’s crystalline grey eyes…if it weren’t for his rounder ears, Stephan could have passed for full Tuathan much easier than Logan.
“How long have you known him?” Trina perched on the edge of the faded sofa.
“Long enough,” Logan said, and sat next to her.
He picked up her hand and rubbed her palm with his thumb. He had a crazy need to touch her, as if he should never let her go. He dropped her hand and rubbed his palms on his thighs, wishing he could rub off what he was about to do.
“Too long,” Stephan carried a tray of chili and tortillas in from the kitchen. “We’ve known each other almost all my life, right?” He placed the food on the table in front of them. “Eat up. You look like you need food worse than you need information.”
Trina took a bowl of chili and dipped a tortilla in.
“We were Kian’s misfits.” Logan explained between bites. “The ones he took under his wing and tried to protect.”
“But he’s…” She whispered, rolling her eyes.
“Yeah, well, that’s what makes me a poor companion for a pure-blooded prince.” Stephan said, and winked. “I’m mixed blood, half Native American and half Tuathan. That makes me unwelcome no matter where I go.” He turned back to Logan. “I heard she turned on all of you after I left.”
“You decided to leave court at the best time. Too many good men died when the prince rebelled,” Logan said.
“I should have been there.” Stephan’s eyes were dark. “You needed me. Kian needed me.”
“It’s good you weren’t there. You wouldn’t be here tonight, and I need you now.” Trina finished her chili. She tipped over and curled up on her side, pillowing her head in his lap. He stroked her hair as her eyes drifted shut.
He was a piss-poor protector, letting her get into trouble this way. He had no home for her. No station in life other than boot-licker to the queen. Until he found out why the queen was after the MacElvys, he had no idea how best to protect her. And every day his search for Kian got put farther and farther to the side.
He’d made up his mind. “Can I leave her here?” he asked Stephan quietly. “She can go no further.”
“She’s a beauty, man.” Stephan said. “Or she would be, if she wasn’t so beat up.”
Logan’s jealousy rose. “I thought you had my back.”
Stephan laughed. “Relax man, I’ve got you.” His grin faded at Logan’s expression. “Hey, I’ll keep her safe. And I promise I won’t touch her.” He shook his head at Logan. “Why would she even want me if she’s got you?”
Logan looked down at the sleeping witch. His heart squeezed in his chest. He had no one left to trust except Stephan. And he had to trust Trina.
“I have no choice.”
“Hey, you don’t need to worry.” Stephan rose. “Come on, you’ll have to carry her. I’ve got a spare room in the back.”
Logan shifted Trina’s head. She woke up, her sleepy, green cat’s eyes peeking out from under her thick, black lashes.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m carrying you to bed.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” she said and he scooped her into his arms. She weighed next to nothing as he carried her into the guest room, laid her in the bed, and pulled the covers to her chin.
He pressed a chaste kiss on her brow. “Sleep well, my witch. I’ll be back soon.”
Trina’s head shot up. “No way! You said you wouldn’t leave me again.” She sat all the way up.
“Lass, I’ll do better on my own.”
“You arrogant, son-of-a-bitch fae jerk! You haven’t even given me a chance to help you.”
Logan heard Stephan’s snort, could feel the man’s amusement burning into his back from the hallway. His ears heated. “Trina, I tried.”
“I’m not letting you leave this time.” She tumbled to the floor in her haste to rise from the bed, her feet tangling in the covers. “You can’t make decisions for me.”
“Of course I can. You’re mine, who else would make these decisions for you?”
“Jerk!” Trina glared at him.
“I’m protecting you. I’ve found a safe place for you to stay. Stephan will protect you with his life.”
“Protect me? I’m supposed to go with you. I refuse to have you leave me here while you go off and play knight errant. I’m not a princess in a castle. I’m a witch with powers of my own, and this is my fight.” She struggled to her feet, still tangled in the sheets.
“Tell her why she can’t go against the queen,” he implored Stephan.
“Don’t pull him into this!”
“I’m staying out of it, man.” Stephan grinned, holding his hands out, palms up. “This is none of my business.”
Logan realized he couldn’t win with words. “I’m sorry, but I can’t risk you.” He backed up to the door.
“I’m not yours to risk.” Trina won free of the sheets and started across the room.
He grabbed the bedroom doorknob. “Stephan will guard you, just stay in the house and you’ll be fine.”
“Wait a minute!”
Logan shut the door and held tight to the knob as Trina yanked the door hard, shaking it in its frame. “I’m not staying here!” Her angry voice came loud and clear through the solid wood.
“Do you have anything to lock this?”
Stephan’s eyebrows rose. “What the hell, man? Do you think I lock women in my bedroom all the time?”
“Let me out of here,
you controlling, fae jerk!”
He looked around for something—anything—to brace the door.
“Here, try this.” Stephan handed him a rope fashioned into a slip knot. Logan laced it over the knob and ran it over to the handle of the next door, tying it as tight as he could manage, then adding a bit of a spell for good measure.
The pounding and shrieking on the other side increased.
“Can you watch her?”
“Yeah, I’ll watch her.” They walked to the front door. “How long?”
“I don’t know. We’re running out of places to hide. You need to know…. The queen—”
“Hey,” Stephan cut him off. “That she-bitch won’t think to look here. I’m less than dirt under her shoe. Why would you seek shelter with a half-breed loser?”
“She might remember, or someone else might. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate.” He opened the door and stepped outside, wincing at the things Trina was yelling at him. “I owe you.”
“No, you don’t.” Stephan made a fist and tapped him on the shoulder. “I haven’t forgotten my debt. I owe you way more than this. You’d better get out of here before your woman realizes there’s a window, or it’ll be worse than the queen.”
Logan turned back. “Sorry, man. She’s not going to be happy when you release her, and she’s got quite the temper.”
“Get out.” Stephan pushed him the rest of the way out the door. “I’ll take care of her for you, man.”
Logan waited for the bolt to be shot home before he called Solanum and the hounds and rode off into the night.
Trina sank onto Stephan’s couch and stared out at the cloudy morning. Depression weighed her limbs down so heavy she didn’t think she would be getting back up. “He’s been gone a long time. Did he say when he’s coming back?”
“I don’t know. Would you like some breakfast? Bachelor fare, eggs on toast.”
“I can’t blame him. I failed yesterday. I couldn’t keep up, couldn’t defend myself, couldn’t fight…”
“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Did you expect to be able to keep up with an elvatian lord on a puca? He’s not just any fae.” Stephan sat next to her. She wondered if he’d ever smiled in his life, his face was so serious.
“I’m a witch. I should be able to do something.” Once again, she had to depend on Logan to find her answers. Trust a man whom she knew she couldn’t trust.
“Take it from me. You don’t have enough magic to go through portals like he does. I’m half elven and they still bite like a motherfucker.”
“But you can go through them without curling up and dying?”
“Yeah. Fifty percent fae, remember? But you’re only what, five percent? Maybe less? How do you expect to defend yourself with magic when it takes you time to build up a spell? How do you expect to compete with a full elvatian lord, go through portals time after time, and not have it drain you?”
“I don’t.” Trina sank back into the sofa. “I can’t.”
It was over. She’d lost. She could be nothing more than Logan’s pet, his slave. No true relationship could ever be built on that.
She curled up into a ball of self-loathing. “You’re right. I can’t compete with him. I have no chance of earning his respect.” Or his love.
“I didn’t say that.” Stephan took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Come on, pity gets you nowhere.” He led her into the kitchen and pushed her into a chair at the table. “I’m fixing you eggs. You’ll feel better after you eat.” He moved efficiently around the small kitchen, scrambling eggs and burning toast.
Stephan set their plates on the table and began shoveling in the food. “Look, Trina,” he said between bites. “You can’t hope to equal Logan with magic, especially the type of magic that’s used in battle. Why do you want to try?”
She pushed her eggs around on her plate. How could this stranger understand her need to have Logan love her, see her as a person and not a possession?
“Gypsy magic is slow,” he said. “It builds with the help of words and tools. It’s like building a house. You need a foundation before you can build a wall. So, you can’t just throw up a building at the drop of a hat. That doesn’t mean your house isn’t a good one.”
He put his fork on his empty plate and watched her play with her food. He sighed. “Trina, your magic is strong. Logan knows that. He didn’t leave you here because you’re weak. He left you here because you can’t travel through the portals.”
“And I can’t get my spells together fast enough when attacked.”
“So?”
“So what do I do?”
“Build a house.” When she blinked at him, he shook his head, his hands flying up in exasperation. “Build a fucking arsenal. Create spells when you have time and use them when you need to.”
“What do you mean?”
“Christ.” He began clearing plates. “No one ever told you this, did they?” He waited for her response. “Okay, you’re a green witch, right?” She nodded. “Use vines to create snares, or brew toxic grenades out of plants. You’re the witch.” He wiggled his fingers in her face. “Use your green fingers to defend yourself.”
“But all that takes time. I couldn’t even break a spell on a hedge.”
“Let me guess. You were trying to break Logan’s spell, not cast your own, right?”
Understanding dawned. “You think if I’d used my talent to try something on my own, I could have circumvented Logan’s spell instead of breaking it?”
“Now you’re thinking like a witch.” The window rattled. A harsh wind had come up and a cloud of dust swirled out in the ranch yard. Stephan frowned at the window, then looked back at Trina. “Would you try to be as physically strong as a human male?”
“Of course not.”
“But, would you partner with a human male, who was physically stronger than you?”
“Yes, but…”
“Then why don’t you think you can partner with a man who is magically stronger than you? Give him some slack.” A hard gust shook the house. Stephan stood up. “Stay inside. This wind looks like it’s going to be rough. I need to make sure everything is secured.” Outside, the old ranch house the sky had turned dark.
He put on a denim jacket. “I have some sheep about to lamb in the near pasture. I won’t be long.” He grappled with the door. The wind howled and pushed it back into the wall with a hard slam. “Stay put. Logan will have my hide if anything happens to you.” He wrestled the door shut and left her alone while the sky turned a sickly shade of yellow and the wind began to shriek.
The ring of monolithic stones Logan and Solanum were about to enter was close to the border of the Hinterlands, an area of Faery where one could easily get lost. An area where one unwary thought would create monsters out of mist. An unpredictable and dangerous place, but this was where his day’s search for Aoife had finally come.
Logan and the hounds checked out the land around the exterior of the ring and down the side of the open hill. He was resolved. There would be no repeat of the episode of the morning, no surprise attacks. He moved with caution, checking on Solanum, in horse form, guarding the stones at the top of the rise. Logan struggled to keep the concerns and worries flooding his mind at bay, and instead, focus on the treacherous landscape of Underhill.
What possessed him to venture into somewhere trouble lurked? The answer came to him in the form of Trina, her soft thighs and breasts. The throaty sounds she made when they had sex. The worry and fear in her green eyes.
Fears for Trina crept into his thoughts like goblins creeping into a baby’s room. Fear of the queen attacking her while she stayed with Stephan. Fear that she would never forgive him for sneaking off and leaving her. Fear that he would never make it back to see her anger.
And then there was the fear of leaving her with another man.
He trusted Stephan. Maybe. The man had his back, but jealousy still niggled at the back of his mind. The jealousy that said she was with him because h
e was her only choice. Give her a different one, and she’d be gone.
His latest informant had indicated this particular ring of stones would take him where Aoife lived. It would save him the energy of opening up a portal and he’d been in and out of portals all day, trying to find some trace of her. Now, he had solid information, but the day’s travel had taken its toll. He was tired and all he wanted to do was go home to Trina. Even an angry Trina. He forced himself to empty his mind of everything but the stones ahead so he wouldn’t inadvertently create anything out of the mists that stretched creeping tentacles up the hill.
Once within the circle, he would have no need to worry about such tight mind control. Inside the ring, the elder magic provided safety. A glowing smear of power clinging to the stones told him that this ring had been recently used. Perhaps the elusive Aoife herself. He was close. He knew it. Adrenaline and danger pulsed through his bloodstream.
Logan finished checking the base of the hill and began the climb back up to the stones, his mind wandering, wondering what Trina was doing now. Probably be taking advantage of the running water at Stephan’s and bathing in the hot water, the wet, hot steam making her face shine and beading into rivulets of water running down her chest. Her hair piled up, tendrils coming loose, getting water on her shoulders. A hard push in his side knocked him off balance.
“What the …”
“Get your head on straight!” Solanum’s red eyes lit with anger.
Just down the hill from Logan, three cloudy female figures had formed from the mist. Beguiling hands reached out from the soft sensual shapes.
He let a bitter laugh escape. “I’ll get focused on the hunt.” He shook himself free of his fantasies and Trina, and the female shapes dissolved back into the mist.
“You’d better, or who knows what you’ll conjure up.” Solanum snorted. “Women! Now you know why they’re best used, then forgotten. You’re going into enemy territory and you have your noggin full of her tits and ass. Not very bright, are you? The Golden King won’t hesitate to kill you. Maybe I should just let him.”
“Hardly a threat since you face worse than the king if you fail in your pledge to me.”
The Dark Huntsman: A Fantasy Romance of The Black Court (Tales of The Black Court Book 1) Page 23