by Claudy Conn
His Irish lilt was captivating, but I was not fooled by such things. I had looked into those deep blues of his and wasn’t convinced of anything. “Know you better than what?”
He laughed. “So suspicious?”
“Sure. I’m from New York.” I smiled at him. “Honestly, though, what is the big secret—why not just tell me if you are an immortal or … whatever?”
“You are a Daoine princess—a Seelie Fae. There was a time when yours and mine were at war, and we certainly did not trust one another’s word or action.”
“I wasn’t there at that time—were you?”
“We will discuss that another time,” he said almost aloofly. He wasn’t giving anything away. And then before I knew what he was doing he was scooping me into his embrace. I pushed at his hard chest, which felt like iron beneath the leather, but he bent his head and took a kiss that sparkled with passion. When he set me free, I jumped away from him.
“That you will never do again without my say so!” I snapped. Yes, I had mildly flirted with him, but something about him—perhaps his arrogance, or the secretive reserve he maintained—had put me off.
He chuckled and took my hand as he walked me back towards the dolmens. “I don’t have time now … but I want to see you safely back. Go through the archway back to MacDaun.”
I turned once to look at him as I passed through the opening, and he grinned before he said, hand on heart, “It’s killing me to let you go, when it’s bedding ye I should be doing.”
I was so damned shocked that I stopped midstride and wagged a finger at him. “Ha, fat chance, buddy.”
He laughed and said with a cocky look on his face, “We’ll see, eh? Sounds like a challenge to me.”
“Does it now, Chancemont LeBlanc?” Danté’s voice was low and threatening as he suddenly exploded onto the scene. He had my forearm and pulled me behind him. “If you know what is best for you—then stay away from Radzia.”
“Not until she tells me to,” Chancemont retorted angrily, and I suddenly was sure these two knew each other.
“She is under my protection—and I am telling you to stay away from her.”
Chancemont made a mockery of the bow he swept Danté. “And still, I will require the words from her.”
I didn’t like being put on the spot, so I snapped, “I am no one’s property.”
I saw Danté’s gold-dust eyes and quickly added, “However, Danté is training me for battle. He has been protecting me, and I mean to respect his wishes whenever I can, so I suggest you two kiss and make up.” I pulled out of Dante’s hold and shifted home.
~ Eleven ~
DANTÉ SHIFTED RIGHT into my room. He stood there in his denims with his auburn hair still braided at his neck, and something in his gold-dust eyes froze the words I was about to spit.
“What am I going to do with you?” He shook his head, paced for a moment, and then turned to stare at me. “Don’t you know who they are? Haven’t you guessed?”
“No … who are they?”
“They are Milesians.”
“So—what does that mean?”
“Didn’t your parents teach you anything about our history?” Danté’s eyes were open wide, but he didn’t wait for an answer as he dove right in. “During our war with the Milesians—that final war on Irish soil—we discovered that they had been able to create ‘death weapons’ from Danu dust. Danu dust from our planet. In the forging of their weapons, they breathed in that dust and acquired properties … Fae properties. They don’t like to admit it, but it is the Fae properties that have kept their small band alive all these centuries. It is our Fae properties that allow them to use some of our magic … like shifting … and still they hate us. Even the Treaty could not stop them from hating us for our past offenses against them.” Danté shook his head. “And now I find you cavorting with them? Z … don’t you realize he would use you and then throw you aside?”
“I … I—he wouldn’t use me, Danté … You see, he isn’t the one I want …”
“And then who do you want—that puppy Dunbar?”
I shook my head and couldn’t speak because the truth was in my eyes if he would only see it. I saw him in that moment and realized just how beautiful an essence (what humans call soul) he possessed. He stood like a grand, larger-than-life god, and in my eyes at that moment he was magnificent, but I was aching—hurting for him and sure at that moment that he just didn’t want me. Instead, he looked … so damned tortured!
However, the next thing I knew he was at my bed and pulling me up and into his arms—and those arms of his, massive and strong, they felt so good that I couldn’t help running my fingers over them. He had my body pressed up against his rock-hard chest, and it thrilled me as nothing before ever had.
I was filled with a wanton call. Shivers of desire skirted in and through my veins, and sensation blasted through me in a way I had never thought possible. There was no one like Danté—not for me. His touch sent me into fantasy and devastated all logic. His touch fused me to him, and I was sure it was like the joining of two objects never meant to be apart. I felt mind and heart fall into a spin.
His tongue commanded mine as it made its way into my mouth and swept me with hot, primal desire, and I bent to him, molded myself to him. He moved his velvet tongue tantalizingly, urging mine to meet and rock with his, and I did just that. I gave myself to him as he took firm hold of my butt and pulled me to him hard and boldly demanding.
I ground myself against him, against that huge cock I was certain had to be way too uncomfortable in his tight jeans. I allowed my body to suggest to him what I wanted. I burned with hunger as I felt him slide his other hand under my sweater … and somehow my bra was undone …
He didn’t have the patience to undress me. All at once I felt the magic in the air as both my bra and sweater were gone. He bent his luscious mouth to my nipple and began suckling there … and I wanted to scream with the pleasure that erupted inside me.
I couldn’t think—I didn’t want to think at that moment. Sensations sizzled through me, and I wanted more of them … I wanted more of him. I couldn’t remember ever feeling that way about a man.
I had only known boys … he was so much more.
He bent me backwards and whispered my name as though it was wrenched from him, “Radzia … you beauty, you …”
He was breathing hard, and his face was drawn in passion. It excited me beyond thought. I reached for the zipper of his jeans.
All at once, he stopped himself and pulled back, and his words sounded as though they were torn from his throat. “Forgive me, enfant … I am despicable … to take advantage of you now when you are … I … forgive me!”
And he was gone.
Gone … I crunched into a fetal position, grabbed my pillow, and held it to my naked torso … because I had so wanted him to stay.
* * *
I moped around all evening. I scarcely touched my dinner as I wondered where he had gone and why. Well, I knew why. Obviously, he didn’t have enough ‘feelings’ for me and was honor-bound (knowing his standards) to keep me at a distance.
Well, that was all wrong. I was all grown up … I knew the consequences, and besides, it was probably too late. He could just forget about sparing my ‘feelings’. I was already too far gone and now just a bit too hurt. The fact of the matter was plain. I was far too taken with his big Royal Self—and that was it in a nutshell!
I guessed that made me a fool. I had never been a fool before. I’d always had my head on straight. I hadn’t had that many romantic encounters, but the ones (one) I had, I knew full well what I was doing and never got so sucked in.
Now, what do I do? I’d let myself fall for someone who couldn’t want me in a thousand years …
I’d given him an open invitation to my bed, and he’d run away as though I were a death knell. Where the hell had he gone? Was it to some Fae beauty?
I clicked on the TV and found Cowboys and Aliens on the pay channel. Loved that m
ovie.
Tried to get into it again.
This is ridiculous, I told myself. I wasn’t sitting there all alone while he was no doubt getting some female Fae to … to … oh no … I couldn’t finish that, because the notion made me want to cry. Awful. I didn’t cry—I just didn’t… usually.
I got up, snatched up my car keys, and a few moments later was slamming out of the house and into my Jeep! Time to hit the pub.
I didn’t get far, just off MacDaun land, when I saw something in the distance. It glowed red. Odd, it looked like something in a syfy movie, but there it was glowing red. I told myself I’d better take it slow. I know I was frowning, because all my warning senses were going off in my head. I had slowed the car, and now I came to a full stop. It was like a red aura had enveloped the building—and yet, it seemed to come from inside …
It hovered inside and outside. This was my neighbor’s outbuilding, a large and aged toolshed at the back of their bed-and-breakfast inn. Should I investigate?
What the heck? I asked myself as I put my car into park alongside the road and watched, but I didn’t have to watch. I knew in my gut and with my Fae sense … this was without any doubt black magic!
My first thought was Unseelies, so imagine my surprise a few moments later when I encountered something I had never seen or expected here in our small village. Two figures enswathed in black robes exited the toolshed, picked up something, and went back inside. Now—hold on here; the MacClennys had to know about this … unless, unless they were being held captive?
Next, my Fae hearing picked up on the chanting, and I knew at once it was Romany—the language of Gypsies. Could it be a simple explanation? Didn’t want to go charging in unless I was sure something nefarious was going on here. Perhaps the MacClennys had guests that practiced some kind of harmless Gypsy incantations when everyone was asleep? Naw—I knew better.
This was too much of a coincidence, considering everything that was going on in my quiet little town, and I didn’t believe in too many coincidences, especially of this magnitude. I mean, come on—we had Unseelies on the loose, and now Gypsy black magic?
I left my Jeep parked along the road and shifted to the MacClennys’ outbuilding, invoking the Féth Fiada to hide my presence.
After that, the rest should have been easy—right? Wrong. Nothing was ever easy. It was a fact of life that kept slapping me in the face—life was hard, harder for some than others, but never easy for anyone.
I peered through a dirty window and saw both Mr. and Mrs. MacClenny dressed in black robes, but their hoods were off their heads, as were the hoods of a couple of others I did not recognize. I counted thirteen people all dressed in dark robes, and I couldn’t tell who the hooded ones were. Then all of them pulled their hoods on and low so their faces were hidden. One of them—the tallest in the group—wore a red ornamental robe with odd embroidery throughout, and he seemed to be in charge, as he directed them with merely a lift of his hand.
It was obvious to me, although I had never encountered one before, that this was a witches’ coven. Yup, a coven, and it was here in MacDaun Village. It was so totally unexpected that I actually was stunned speechless. It didn’t matter as there was no one to speak to, but if there had been—you get the picture.
Their leader—I suppose a warlock—held some kind of urn over a pit in the center of the toolshed. They were all chanting a Gypsy spell … a Dark spell. What the hell was going on here? And then an answer presented itself to me when a portal in the middle of the shed’s floor opened as though a tunnel to hell had been exposed. This … thing crawled out on its elongated belly and pushed itself up to its full and considerable height (I thought about seven feet). It was without doubt the most hideous Unseelie I had seen to date.
Its body was blobbish and indistinct, and in spite of its height, it looked smaller because it was hunched over, no doubt because of the weight of carrying two grotesque heads. It had two … two heads (I feel I have to repeat this simply because I do). Those heads were identical and absolutely hideous in the extreme. They (the heads) spoke to each other with mouths that were overly large—so large that it didn’t matter that they didn’t have noses on their heads; they probably didn’t need them. They drooled—both heads drooled. I hate drooling.
They snickered (the two heads snickered at the same time) to one another as though enjoying a private joke. But they quickly returned their attention to the coven and announced as one, in a voice that was threatening in tone and animal-like in texture, “Hungry …”
The coven leader in the red robes moved off to a closet and immediately produced what evidently was to be their meal: a young woman, probably not much older than myself. She was unconscious as he carried her to a slab of stone that served as a tabletop.
Okay, I had to think. This needed finesse. I would have to be quick. I would have to shift in, get the girl, and shift out before the two-headed thing could get to me. I had one major advantage on my side—surprise. They didn’t know I was here, which thankfully would be my ace, and damn, I needed an ace right then as I didn’t have a weapon.
Needed to get in and out before the two-headed thingy would see me and attack. Good plan.
Someone—a jester no doubt—likes to squelch good plans. I had heard it said that a good plan was only good if it worked.
Mine never stood much of a chance, because for some unknown reason (perhaps because the creature sensed my presence), the ugly thing looked up at the window and saw me. All Fae (Dark or Light) can see past our own magic. He saw past my invisibility and roared with fury! Claws, long and sharp, shook in the air, threatening me, and then he added verbal threats in ancient Danu. This was so not good.
Could he shift? I had to be smart, so I waited to see if he could shift. I knew the moment the ugly squinted and went into its head to do just that, and as it shifted, I did the same, maintaining my invisibility so the coven would not see me.
The two-headed thingy shifted outside, but I shifted into the devil’s den, picked up the girl, who immediately became invisible when I took hold of her, and shifted back to my car.
If he tried to track us, he might be able to track my scent, but as I put my foot to the pedal and got the hell out of there, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to track my car! A Seelie Fae could … but Dark Fae didn’t have that skill—a fact I knew instinctively.
The woman was unconscious, and it looked as though she had taken something of a beating … and her clothes were torn in such a way I was pretty sure she had been raped. Sick sons-of-a-bitch!
I drove her to the hospital as fast as I could and called for help. Nurses came running out to my car, which I had parked haphazardly to get their attention. And that was when I realized I was in trouble.
You see, I couldn’t leave. I had to leave if I was going to maintain my anonymity, but I just couldn’t. I had to know she would be okay, so I stayed, and that made me the target of questions. I answered as many questions as I was able, saying only that I found her on the side of the road. The police allowed me to go home, telling me they would contact me if they needed any more information. My name was on record. Bad, so very bad.
Later on the ride home, I wondered if I should go after the beast and track it before it killed someone. I also wished I could find Danté.
As it happened my wish was granted by the powers that be; Danté appeared in the passenger seat, scaring the bejeebers out of me.
“Where have you been, and why is it you cannot stay at home where you are safe?” he growled at me.
He looked good—so damn good in his black sweater and jeans. His hair was a mass around his handsome face, and his lips … oooh … his lips …
I managed to break away from that thought and answered him. “I have discovered something unbelievable, Danté, and I am not an animal to be caged. Safe is not how I want to live.”
He grumbled and then frowned at me. “What unbelievable thing have you found?”
“The MacClennys must be
witches—they have a coven … I saw them, and they are using Gypsy magic to open a portal. They brought through this huge, two-headed, grayish monster … and they were going to feed a young woman to him—and, Danté, she was beaten, and I think raped. These are despicable people.” I paused to watch his face, as he seemed deep in thought.
Finally he asked softly, “How did you happen to come across this?”
“The red glow … I saw it and had to investigate.”
“Well of course you did,” he answered on a resigned note.
“And even though she was unconscious, I thought it out, and you would have been very proud of me because I used patience and the Féth Fiada … and waited till the last possible moment, listening for the monster thing to shift, and then as he came after me, I shifted into the coven’s den, scooped her up, shifted us to my car, and drove her straight to the hospital.”
“And of course you stayed with her.” Again that resigned tone in his voice, but there was something alight in his gold-lit eyes, something that looked like pride, but then he ruined the moment by saying, “And of course you had to rush in headlong without thought to your own—”
I cut him off. “Should I have allowed the beast to eat her? He said he was hungry!” I snapped at him.
“You should have called me.”
“Yeah—right, like we have phone service between us.”
He shook his head. “Haven’t you felt it yet, Z … the channel between us? I put it there in your head while you slept and have been waiting for you to discover it. You need to be more aware of your Faeness and the fact that you are a powerful Daoine. You need to be able to tap into that might, and you can’t if you don’t even know what is in your own head.” He waved his hand, dismissing this impatiently. “Never mind … at least tell me you left her with the medical people and did not give your name.”
I had known when I didn’t just leave her and run that I was making a huge mistake. I had known I shouldn’t stick around, but my emotions have always gotten the better of my smarter self. I wanted to make certain she would be okay, so I had hung around and of course came under scrutiny. I knew it wasn’t smart, so now although I needed to keep my eyes on the dark road, I lowered my lashes, and of course the car swerved …