Legend 4 - Free Falling
Page 9
“Yes, that would be nice … or we … could stay here …” Her eyes focused on mine with her words.
That was what I had originally planned. I had planned to seduce her. I needed to know her better, for reasons of my own, but now that the moment was here, now that the opportunity presented itself, I just didn’t have it in me—something held me back, damned if I knew what. What the hell was wrong with me? By Danu, this was not like me. She was a beauty, and I had not been with a female for some time …
I took her into my arms and crushed her to me with a passion I totally knew was false. Nothing—I felt not the slightest bit of desire.
I kissed her long and sweet, as though to prove to myself I was still the lover I had always been …
Nothing—I was forcing myself. However, as she responded, she didn’t seem to notice the lack of ‘feeling’ that went with my embrace. She sighed and made a small whimpering sound as she whispered, “Ah—Danté, so forceful and passionate … I have been without … attention, for a very long time.”
Something held me back—something worried my mind. Something deterred my ability to want her. She was a beauty, her body was tantalizing, and yet …
I smiled at her and touched her chin. “Come then, Atha … the concert will be just what we both need.”
She was shocked and openly annoyed. I think she was even a little insulted. I understood that. Females do not like rejection; they take it harder then males do. They see it as a slight to their ability to seduce. A male takes sexual rejection with some salt. The male Fae will tell himself the female in question needs more time, she is shy, she is being coy, she is … and it goes on. It is not so for the Fae female. She takes it as a slight.
She eyed me coldly and said without embarrassment, “Do you not want me, Danté?”
“How could any male look at you and not want you?”
That mollified her some, but not enough. She put up one delicate, dark brow and threw a lock of flaming red hair behind her shoulder. “And yet you wish to take me to a concert instead of to bed?”
Whoaho—no shyness here, I thought with an inward chuckle. “I simply want us to take our time. I don’t want to take you to bed today and not attend to you tomorrow. I want to get to know you. I want you to get to know me … see if we can prolong our time together. I think in the end, you will find the waiting … will intensify the ‘wanting’.”
She touched my cheek. “You intrigue me, Danté.”
“Do I? I hope so.”
She considered me as the smile on her lips widened and her glittering eyes swept me with her question. “A courtship? How charming. I do indeed think that I will think it worth the wait.”
I put an arm around her shoulders, and we shifted to the open-air pavilion and took up our seats. I studied her a moment and said casually, “How is it you are unattached, beauty?”
She laughed and eyed me coyly. “No one of interest … until you.”
“And yet, I seem to remember, not so very long ago, when I often saw you enjoying the company of one particular Fae—”
“Don’t speak of the traitor! I despise him. He betrayed his own kind—he betrayed me, for as you say, I believed he and I had a relationship of worth. Now, I hear that he has taken up with Queen Morrigu in the Dark Realm, where I hope he rots. I can’t bear to hear his name.”
She said all this with a vehemence a lesser Fae might have believed. I am, however, not a lesser Fae. I smiled to myself and patted her hand. “No—nor can I.”
She settled in, but I saw that she was inwardly still agitated. She had told me so much more than she imagined she had. I had to wonder just who she thought she was dealing with. I am Danté, Royal Prince of Lugh. I have fought beside my queen in three battles on earth. I have seen the worst and best of Fae and Men.
That human—Shakespeare is his name—came to mind. I altered his quote just a little as I thought, Methinks the lady doth protest too much—by Danu!
* * *
“Oooh! It is a good thing I have calmed myself down,” I said to the interior of my Jeep as we sped along A9 towards Inverness. I clutched my steering wheel and gritted my teeth as my mind raged and my mouth once again had to release the words even though no one would hear them. “Damn. Didn’t I—not him … not anyone else, but me, myself, and I—discover one of the secrets of the sword Nuad gave Dad? Nuad said it was intended for me, and he was frigging right on there.”
My mind drew a picture of the recent scene in the training room. I had clutched the hilt of the sword as Danté verbally abused my skill. He was telling me to stop waving it around like a fool when it suddenly spoke to me and softly said, “Now, Radzia …”
It was as though I were holding a live creature. It moved my hand in a graceful fashion, so graceful I nearly forgot it was deadly.
I didn’t forget though and immediately drew down. This was a death weapon, and Danté had been right when he told me not to use it—not in training.
I had been peeved with him, and I had picked it up just to spite his orders.
Not wise, not wise at all. My sword was a living thing, and it knew my name. Once again, Danté had been correct—one did not train against another with a death weapon in hand.
I had hung my head and whispered, “I am sorry.”
He had glared at me but said nothing to this. Instead he walked over and took the sword. He raised it high and asked, “Sword of Nuad … what is your purpose?”
“To kill,” it answered in a voice that sounded sweet and soothing. Its voice belied the dangerous artifact that it actually was.
“Indeed, you tell us nothing. We know that. I am Danté, Royal Prince of the House of Lugh. You were forged on Danu. You are infused with the dust of Danu, as I am. Now tell me your purpose.”
“To become one with Radzia—and eliminate all threats while she holds me.”
“There is more.”
“Yes—I can tell her what her enemy’s weakness is, but not until she faces him. Even if she does not intend to use me to the death, I can tell her secrets about her opponent. I will be one with Radzia. I have chosen her.”
“Does Nuad know of this?”
“Yes. Nuad holds my brother as his own.”
Danté turned to me and said in a hard voice, “You will not use this in training.” With a nod of his well-shaped chin, the sword was on the wall bracket, out of reach.
Once again I had a sword, the one I had been using all along, in my hands. Its size and shape were similar to the death sword, but it was forged of simple metal and would not kill a Fae—Dark or otherwise.
After that Danté barked orders at me, didn’t let me stop to breathe, and never, not once, complimented me … no ‘good girl’ when I knew I had gone through the maneuvers perfectly.
He was the most annoying male of my acquaintance. I knew I’d gone through my lessons with some mistakes—but I had really been on the mark most of the time. I thirsted to be a force infused with precision. I paid attention to what he showed me, to what he told me, and I did (after a few mistakes) get it right.
Then he showed me how to shift quietly, cleanly, and leaving scarcely a trace, and I got it. I really did, I know I did, because I saw it in his gold eyes—appreciation—but did he give me an ounce of credit? Nooo.
Instead, he said, “Better … but you can do better still.”
Oh! Then after taking up my entire morning with lunging, slicing, thrusting, sidestepping, shifting in and out until I was ready to fall down and go to sleep right there on the marble floor, he said, “Later, enfant!”
Off he went, leaving me without an explanation. Frustration was such a good word. Explained quite a bit if you think about it. Shopping was another good word, and that was what I was going to do. I needed some more dark clothing—things that would move when I moved, stretch when I stretched—some things that would wash up nicely.
Inverness lay just ahead, but I was still in a temper. I still seethed as I drove along, but as I entered the bus
y city, I concentrated on the traffic while I took my usual shortcut to my favorite shops.
As I turned the corner I glanced at the children playing in the schoolyard and realized it must be lunchtime. I thought I would grab a bite as well … and then I saw them—two of them!
They were way different from the drones I had encountered in the past and completely different from the ones I had killed the previous evening. These two were taller, nearly seven foot if they stood straight up, which they didn’t—they slumped. They were large, gray, skeleton-like creatures. No drool, no body fluids, and yet, completely grotesque. For eyes, they had dark, large sockets, and in their mouths were double rows of shark-like teeth. As I watched them, I realized they were sliding along the pavement towards the children.
I say ‘sliding’ because they didn’t walk—they slithered on their skeleton, clawed feet. I mean, these things were seriously scary to look at. They looked like ‘eating machines’, and they also looked hungry.
I didn’t think—I reacted. Children were in the equation here. Those things were headed for the children. That was so not happening!
I saw as I got closer that the gray matter covering their bones was layered with some kind of slime; thus, they slithered—at least that was what I supposed. It didn’t matter. I had to focus now on getting between them and the kids, because they (the children) wouldn’t see monsters; they would see the illusion these monsters had created around themselves—elderly and sweet grandmothers …
I parked my car in a ‘no parking’ zone, reached for Nuad’s (now mine) death weapon in the back seat, got out, and shifted to the entrance of the schoolyard. I stood cloaked in Féth Fiada between them and the gate, and my sword was up. The children would not see past the invisibility … but the dark monsters would.
“Their heads … you must cut quickly … sever their heads,” my sword whispered sweetly to me. It was as though it were telling me how to carve up a turkey dinner. Okay, fine with me; however, without warning—
I sensed them before I glanced off to the side and actually saw them in the street. Slimy and gliding my way—more grotesque monsters. They were all the same caste, and I wondered if they could tell each other apart. I sure couldn’t. However, I discovered in that moment I might be in luck: these things, this caste, could not shift. On the other hand, they had numbers on their side. There were the two almost twenty feet before me, in the schoolyard, and the three getting closer every minute.
Okay—five of the uglies to contend with. I saw at once that they meant to surround me. I smiled to myself, thinking this was a done deal—they wouldn’t know what hit them. After all, I didn’t see any weapons on them.
And then, another two turned the corner and cut across the street to move in on me. “Holy shit!” I said right out loud.
“Oh-oh,” said my sword, evidently agreeing with me.
“Oh-oh?” I asked it. “That’s what you have to say—oh-oh?”
“Swing in a circle with me straight out, slice at anything that moves, and begin eliminating one by one. No, WAIT! They have claws that emit a poison dangerous to any and all Fae. It does not kill, but it harms … it greatly harms …”
“Oh that is just wonderful news,” I muttered as I made a decision and shifted. I came out of the atmosphere right behind one of them and took off his damn head. Ugh—gray blood splattered all over my pretty blue outfit. I sent his body off into deep space.
Damn, I told myself, but you are good! I shifted again and repeated the action, and this time I smiled in spite of the gray-goo splatter. Ha—got a rhythm going on here, I told myself. Then two more of the creatures arrived and closed in, and I realized that making the assumption they were as stupid as they were ugly would get me harmed. They weren’t stupid.
They moved in unison and formed a back-to-back circle. I would have to come at them head on, and they were waving their poisonous claws at me. Bastards needed killing. I couldn’t leave this schoolyard until they were all dead and sent off into space.
One of them lunged at me and nearly caught my left arm. I jumped back just in time. Four separated and, back-to-back, tried to wedge me between all of them. This was so not good.
Out of nowhere—actually somewhere as I had felt the airwaves part—a man’s strong but slightly amused voice said, “It’s needing some help, you be …”
I looked around and up at this warrior in leathers, sword in hand, who looked like he had just arrived from another century. His blond hair was loose except for some braids here and there. His eyes were dark blue and smoldering, and had my situation not been so precarious, I might have stopped to have a better look. However, the moment called for something else altogether.
I didn’t know what or who he was, but I did know he wasn’t a Fae. I was sure of that and nothing else. “Who … who are you?” I managed to ask as I watched him dive, cut an Unseelie in half and, while it writhed, still quite alive and trying to unite with itself, cut off its head.
“No time for that.” He grinned. “We have some killing to do, don’t we—and be careful, lass—don’t be letting them scratch you.”
I was still trying to assimilate the fact that this hunk of eye candy had appeared out of nowhere, when another one—another smoking-hot guy in leathers—stepped through the atmosphere. They looked alike, as brothers might, and I quickly decided they must be related. And, as I stood and fought with them side by side and back to back, I learned something: cut the devils in half and then take off their heads … good trick.
During the few moments it took to wipe out the group of Unseelie creatures, it occurred to me that these two guys held death weapons in their hands.
Just what and who were they?
* * *
She was infuriating. She was obstinate and cocky. She was too sure of herself. She was totally fearless. The combination of all those attributes would get her killed.
Our lessons actually went better than I had expected they would. She seemed pliant to my authority. She seemed to genuinely want to learn everything I could teach her, and my enfant learned quickly, too quickly for her own good.
She knew how skilled she was and was impatient to use those skills. She was impulsive and reckless. She was unwilling to practice the arts I had taught her and instead looked expectantly up at me—waiting to hear how awe-inspiring she was.
In truth, the expression on her pert face made me smile inwardly. She was in many ways an innocent. How could she not be at her age?
She had been sheltered by her parents and lived in a human world where she knew nothing but coddling and affection. She wanted me to tell her ‘good girl’. She wanted me to shout out how very skilled I thought she was, but I could not. Why should I pander to her in that way and serve to embolden her self-assurance?
She moved with the sword as though one with it. I was, in fact, truly amazed by her skills. She was proficient in all the things I had taught her, and it was important, because very soon she would be in harm’s way. The thought of her facing Gais was nearly more than I could bear. He was filth, not worthy to stand against the perfection of her soul …
I needed time to myself, to work on my own patience—to work on my own emotions and check them. I needed time to come to grips with the fact that she was rough and tumble, and overly enthusiastic, and brave to a fault—so brave that in spite of her youth she captivated my admiration.
I am Danté, Prince of Lugh, and I already knew how fickle a woman’s interests could be. I did not mean to be entrapped by a human female’s charms. She might be Daoine—a Daoine princess—but there was the human in her.
Radzia worried me. She would throw herself into the fight without thought to her own safety. She would charge at Gaiscioch … My mission was to keep her safe. My queen told me that she was the important link in the prophecy, but I found myself wanting to protect her because of the soul that shone in her eyes … and another feeling I should not have, but did. When I was with her I found myself wanting to touch her.
Scotland’s Highlands rolled out before my eyes. The hills fluctuated in beauty and made what the humans called ‘a patchwork quilt’ of the land. It was an apt description. I love the lay of MacDaun with the Caledonian pines and the smell of the mountains with their glorious lochs.
And all at once, even as I relaxed to the sweet breath of nature, the wavelength I had installed between my enfant and me when she was sleeping called to me. My Z was in danger!
I immediately shifted and … bloody hell!
* * *
Everywhere I looked, I saw gray blood and gore. The sidewalk was covered with globs of repugnant goo, and I told myself, Z, you must be a natural-born killer … none of this really disturbs you. I looked at my clothes. Oh no—I couldn’t walk into a shop bloodstained. I used magic to clean my clothes and my skin, but even so, I could still see stains.
Before the actual bloodletting began, I had immediately enacted the ar dhuine, one of our concealment spells. I didn’t want the children to witness what was about to take place. They saw grandmothers; they didn’t see monsters, so I hid the entire scene from them.
The two guys in leathers fought like they had been doing this awhile. We never spoke, the three of us. It was as though we were programmed to work together as a team. We clicked immediately as we went into warrior mode. There was a science to our movements. Yes, the killing was savage, but it was done with precision.
We neatly, easily formed a line as we advanced and invited—no, taunted—the Unseelie to attack. They broke their back to back and attempted to lash out with their poisonous claws. That wasn’t happening today. I remembered what Danté had told me about enacting a personal shield. I did, but because it wasn’t foolproof, I still was extra careful. The two hotties in leathers at my side didn’t seem concerned as they ducked and lunged and drove their weapons home.