“He kept staring at you.”
“Like I said before, why do you care?”
“Because you and Michael have been my best friends forever, that’s why. If this Kheelan is a problem, we’ll take care of it.”
“Spare me the big brother act.”
He held up his hands. “Chill. I’m just sayin’—”
“Is it so hard for you to believe some guy might actually think I’m pretty?” She wanted to cut her tongue out the minute she said it. But there, it was out there.
Tanner dropped his hands. “I never said you weren’t pretty.
That’s why—”
“Forget it.”
“Geez, you’re in a great mood tonight.”
“The last couple of days have been crazy.”
“What’s up?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
Skye folded her arms across her chest. “Okay, how’s this for starters—weird things have been going on at the shop. Then, when I get off work yesterday, Kheelan’s waiting for me in the back alley.”
Tanner took his feet off the coffee table and sat up. “Why that . . . did he hurt you?”
Skye waved him off. “So, we go out for a drink and he knows everything that’s been going on at the shop. And he says there’s a way to meet the fairies. I think he may even be one for all I know.”
“You’re tellin’ me,” Tanner’s words were slow and disbelieving, “this Kheelan’s a . . . a . . . fairy?” He laughed. Deep throaty laughs that had him sucking air and almost falling off the sofa.
“Good one.”
Skye glared at him. “Not a fairy in the way you mean it.”
“You can’t be serious.” Tanner tried to stop laughing.
She gave him her best stony-eyed stare.
“The dude’s just making a move on you. He sees you working in that kind of store and came up with a scam to wow you.”
“He’s not making it up. I saw the fairies myself.”
That shut him up. Skye explained about the hagstone.
“Let me see that thing.”
She dug it out of her purse and he went to the window and lifted the stone to an eye. “Nothing’s out there.” Tanner faced her again, holding out the hagstone.
“Aim it at that oak tree across the street.” He sighed and lifted the stone again. “I’m tellin’ ya, all I see is a tree.”
“Give it here.” Skye grabbed it, looked through the opening, and frowned. “But they were there last night.” Tanner shook his head.
“Really, I’m not making this up.”
“He filled your head with a load of crap and you got so excited you thought you saw something. Understandable. You’ve always been a sucker for that wacko stuff.”
“Tanner Hamilton Adams, you’ve been around weirdness before. Your family is in the same coven as mine.”
“Man, you had to throw out my full name. And the witch stuff too.” Tanner shook his head in mock dismay and then grew serious. “I left all that witch business behind in Piedmont. Never wanted anything to do with it. Coming to college was my ticket out.”
Skye cocked her head to the side and studied him. So, she wasn’t the only one trying to start fresh and leave high school behind. “I can’t imagine not having any magic in my life. I’m not much good at it, but it’s a big deal to me.”
“Yeah, well, I had hoped you’d change your mind. Not that it’s a deal breaker.”
“Deal breaker? You lost me.”
Tanner shifted his large body and rubbed his hands on his jeans. “I’ve been trying to tell you ever since I came in.” He took a deep breath. “About the other night. You kinda took me by surprise. I’ve thought about it and, uh, if you’re still interested, maybe we should give it a go. You and me, I mean.”
She couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe. “Seriously?” she managed in a strangled voice.
He took her hand, pulled her onto his lap. “Seriously.” Tanner leaned in and kissed her.
Just like that.
The moment she’d fantasized about all through high school was finally here. . . .
. . . And she wasn’t feeling it. At all.
Try harder. Skye put her hands on the sides of his face and deepened the kiss.
Good goddess, still no spark. It was almost like kissing her brother. Ewww . . . as if. Skye opened one eye, curious to see Tanner’s reaction—only to find him staring back at her. They drew apart at the same time.
Neither spoke. The silence pulsed between them, heavy and awkward. This was not the way she imagined the kiss going down.
“It’s not working, is it?” Skye asked, her smile rueful.
“Whew.” Tanner melodramatically wiped a hand across his brow. “Glad I wasn’t alone there. This totally sucks, ya know.”
“I know.” She squeezed his shoulders playfully. “Guess we’ve been friends too long for this to work. I must have been blind not to see it before. Do me a favor and don’t breathe a word of this to Michael.”
Tanner drew a line across his lips as if zipping them closed. “This never happened.”
Skye got off his lap and sat beside him. Tanner tousled her hair and gave her his familiar, easy smile. They both leaned back and put their feet up together on the coffee table. Just like old times— only better.
“I’m still worried about you,” he said. “When it comes to you and anything magical, well, it can be train wreck. Remember that time in fifth grade when you did a spell on your pet turtle?”
She laughed. “All I asked for was to make it extra special for show-and-tell.”
“A pink turtle with orange polka dots was pretty special,” said Tanner. “I’ll never forget the look on Ms. Simmon’s face when you took it out of the shoebox.”
“I got in so much trouble. She called Mom and warned her of the dangers of toxic paint on animals. Mom changed my turtle back to green when I got home and told me not to ever do another spell until I was old enough to do it right.”
“But you didn’t listen.” Tanner shook his head. “Poor Greg.
You may have scarred him for life.”
“Ouch. Again, I only wanted him to show a little interest in me.”
“The poor guy was obsessed with you.”
“Tell me about it. Greg followed me everywhere. Even tried to go to the girl’s restroom with me. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t stepped in and undone the spell.”
“You’re too powerful for your own good.”
Skye regarded him thoughtfully. She’d never thought of it that way.
The image of Tiffany the Cheerleader reared its ugly head. In high school, Tiffany was the ‘It Girl.’ Perfect hair, expensive clothes, the one all the guys chased and the other girls followed. Tiffany and her clique made constant digs at Skye. Everything about her was wrong in their eyes. The way she talked, walked, ate, the clothes she wore, her friends—everything. All Skye wanted was to bring her down a notch. More of a witchcraft Public Service Act than a personal vendetta. So, she cast a teensy weensy little spell that Tiffany’s hair be cut off in a ragged style that looked like a lawnmower had run over it.
Next morning, Tiffany showed up absolutely rocking the haircut. She gelled and spiked it, creating a chic biker look as her own signature style—until several other cheerleaders got identical cuts.
Skye gave it one more go and cast a spell for Tiffany to ditch the fashionable clothes. This time when Tiffany came to class, she sported ripped jeans and t-shirts that looked adorable on her and matched the new wild hairstyle. Sure enough, ragged jeans became the rage at Piedmont High School.
Skye gave it up.
Tanner’s laughter broke up her musings. “Did you just say something?” she asked.
“Yeah, that I bet you’ve cast all kinds of flopped spells Michael and I know nothing about.”
If he only knew the dozens of botched love spells she’d cast for him. “I’ll never tell,” she s
aid with a slight smile. A girl has her pride after all.
Tanner’s phone rang and Skye heard a female voice on the other end. She waited for the familiar twist of jealousy in her stomach, but it was gone. Thank the goddesses for that miracle. She headed to the kitchen for a Diet Coke. By the time she popped the tab on the can, Tanner walked in, stuffing his phone in his jeans.
“Saved by the bell?” she said.
“Something like that.” The easy grin was back. “Gotta go.” He gave her a bear hug and held it a beat longer than usual.
“We’re cool, right?” he asked.
“Like ice,” she said.
This time when Tanner made his exit, there were no tears. Disappointment, sure, but mostly relief the drama and angst were over. Next time she had it bad for somebody, she wouldn’t wait so long to open up.
9
Absinthe Again
“Did you see the fairies?”
Skye whirled around, even though she half-expected to see him again, the voice from the shadows caught her by surprise. Kheelan emerged from the dark alley behind The Green Fairy and stood beneath the streetlamp. The light cast flickering shadows on the sharp plains of his face.
“Do you only come out at night?” Skye asked, wanting to coax a smile on his serious face. She walked toward him, drawn to Kheelan’s energy, the need she sensed in him. She drank in his dark eyes with their topaz flecks of sparkling sunshine trapped in a black hole. “I don’t know how I ever mistook you for Kyle. You’re totally different.”
Kheelan shrugged, but she could tell from his quick half-smile this pleased him.
“You have a good eye.”
They stood in silence as the wind whipped through the dark street. Somewhere in the distance, a cat screeched, breaking the spell.
“I saw them, the fairies.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “They were—” she stopped, struggling to find the right word. “Incredible, gorgeous, dazzling, not like anything I’ve ever seen before.”
Kheelan nodded. “I knew you’d be impressed.”
“More like blown away.” She frowned, and dug into her purse. “Guess you want this back.” She held out the hagstone. She’d hoped to see the fairies at least one more time before returning it, but it belonged to Kheelan.
“Keep it, it’s yours.” His hand closed over hers, wrapping the hagstone in her palm.
She should be afraid. Alone in the dark with a mysterious guy who’d cracked open a door to an invisible world. But she wasn’t afraid. Just the opposite, she felt safe with him. Her heart raced with the pleasure of his touch.
“We need to talk,” said Kheelan. “Have you had dinner?
Skye flipped open her phone to check the time. “Let’s pick up some Dreamland Barbeque sandwiches and go to my apartment. We can talk there.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Kheelan picked up the motorcycle helmet on the ground beside him. “I’ll follow you on my bike.”
Skye lit the salt lamp and the candles scented with frankincense and jasmine. Despite her determined questions through dinner, she couldn’t quite read Kheelan. She inventoried what she had learned: he’d lived all over the Southeastern United States, loved motorcycles, and he either had no family or had lost all contact with them. She knew he was being evasive, but she was equally certain he was a person who spoke the truth and detested deceit.
He fascinated and excited her.
Kheelan pushed the empty sandwich wrapper away on the coffee table. He turned his body sideways on the sofa and faced her. “Tell me what’s going on at The Green Fairy.”
“First, explain how you know something has happened there.” She could be evasive, too.
They regarded each other like wary animals.
“I’m something of an expert on the Fae,” Kheelan said, stabbing the straw in his drink before he set it aside.
She waited.
He reluctantly held out his right hand with the vivid colored tattoo. “Do these symbols mean anything to you?”
Skye gazed down at his clinched fist. Beneath the knuckles she saw an intricate design of a black feather encircled by a wreath-shaped Celtic knot.
She shook her head. “I know the knots are Gaelic. I’m guessing the feather represents the freedom of a bird.”
“Just the opposite.” Kheelan withdrew his hand, his face a mask of bitterness. “It’s an ostrich feather, symbolizing willing obedience. The knot around it is for binding.” He gave a dry laugh. “Believe me, there’s nothing willing about my obedience. It was forced on me before I was two years old.”
“Obedience to who?”
“The Fae, the Seelie Court specifically. Are you familiar with fairy lore?”
If he could open up, so could she. “I’m a witch. A crappy, useless one most of the time, but I was raised in a coven. A few members were into fairies and I learned there are two camps—the good, Seelie, and the bad, the Unseelie.”
“A gross oversimplification. Just as humans aren’t all good or all bad, neither are the Fae, no matter what court they belong to.”
“That makes sense.” Still, she was glad he was on the side of the good.
“They take all kind of forms,” he continued. “There’s the small elemental sprites, pixies, like you saw with the hagstone. They can have great beauty or be hideously ugly, be large or small, or appear in any color.” He leaned forward, his face inches from hers. “They can even take human form for long periods of time.”
Skye stared at his sensual lips, the urge to kiss him nearly irresistible. Tanner was the only one who had ever tempted her like this before. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He was telling her the most incredible things and all she could think of was how it would feel to be in his arms. She opened her eyes. “Please Kheelan, don’t say you’re not real, that you’re one of them.”
He jerked back in revulsion. “No way, I’ll never truly be a part of their world.” He paused. “Skye, I’m a changeling.”
Her mind scrambled, remembering childhood tales. “You were somehow switched at birth?”
“Right. I’m as human as you.” He stopped abruptly and his eyes darted to her hair before jerking away. “The Fae substituted one of their own in my place, and took me to live in their world.”
The words left her speechless, but she didn’t doubt his story. She’d grown up in a coven after all. And the man didn’t even blink when she confessed she was a witch. He deserved the same courtesy. Switched at birth, a fairy baby left in his place . . . “Kyle.” Skye jumped up from the table. “Kyle was exchanged for you. That’s why the two of you could pass for twins.”
“I’ve checked the Fae records against the human records, and I’m positive. The fae glamorized Kyle so that he physically appears like me.”
“That’s so—” She faltered. “—so mean. Why did they do such a cruel thing?”
Kheelan came around the table, took her arm and pulled her down to sit in the chair beside him. He held out his tattooed hand. “For this. To make me an obedient servant to their capricious whims, to help them in their battle with the Unseelie.”
The despair in Kheelan’s voice made her throat constrict with sympathetic tears. She placed her hand over the branded symbols. “It’s not right. They have no right.” And she thought she had it tough growing up.
He put a finger underneath her chin and raised her face to meet his. Her heart tripped a beat at the contact.
“Be that as it may, at least I serve the good side. And they are in danger, Skye. The Unseelie draw closer daily, grow stronger. Say you’ll help us.”
“I don’t see how I could possibly help.” It was hard to concentrate when he was so close she could smell his lime and musk scent, feel the heat of his skin. Maybe he was putting out some kind of fairy pheromones that could spellbind.
If so, it worked.
“Yes,” she heard herself agree. “I’ll help you.”
He drew closer, his lips hovered an inch from hers. Their breaths combined before s
he felt the pressure of his lips. She wrapped her hands around his neck and pressed him closer.
“Skye.” His voice was strangled. She didn’t try to speak, knew she couldn’t. He groaned as his hands explored her back.
He was too far away, she needed him closer. She broke her hold and stood. He looked at her questioningly and then smiled when she settled on his lap. Hungrily, their lips reconnected. He explored her mouth with his tongue and her body flamed. She’d had a couple of serious make out sessions before, but none so intense, this need like a physical hurt. It was a far shot from Tanner’s miserly pity kiss.
Tanner. Skye couldn’t even picture his face. And she had promised herself not to hold back the next time she fell for a guy. So . . . she let Kheelan’s kisses consume her mind and body; there was room for nothing else.
“So damn hot,” he breathed as he whispered in her ear. His mouth lowered to her neck and kissed the hollow of her throat. Breathing was difficult, forget thinking clearly. All she wanted, needed, was his mouth to go lower still. She arched her back, thrusting her breasts toward him.
Ever-so-slowly his lips trailed kisses down several more inches and his hand brushed the side of one of her breasts. Her nipples strained beneath her thin cotton shirt. She’d die if he didn’t touch her there. Please.
A hand crept up the back of her shirt and he expertly unhooked her bra in one confident move. As if he had done this same thing a million times.
Wait. What am I doing? If she didn’t stop this soon, Kheelan would expect more. Much more. He wasn’t some high school boy from Piedmont.
But then he palmed her breasts and the blood pounded in her ears. She was falling, and so was he. His weight was delicious and heavy on top of her own as they sank into the sofa cushions. His mouth, at last, suckled one of her nipples. Her core tightened, dampening her panties. Skye pressed her hips into his, felt his rigid manhood.
He wanted her. Her.
The knowledge filled Skye with humility and awe.
Changeling: An Appalachian Magic Novel Book 2 (Appalachian Magic Series) Page 8