The Seelie King

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The Seelie King Page 10

by Heather Killough-Walden


  Selene spun around to face the one who’d spoken.

  Once more, she was struck with a paralyzing sensation.

  “The Fuatharkan is a dark fae,” said the man, his mesmerizing eyes sliding from her to the absolutely adorable creature who was mewling, half-conscious at their feet. “It should not be in my realm. The border between the Sidhe Kingdoms must have been weakened somehow.”

  He knelt down beside the animal and gently ran a hand along the creature’s back, which seemed to instantly calm the beast and even brought forth a kind of purr so deep and rumbling, Selene could feel it vibrating through the gemstone path beneath her feet.

  The man was tall, perhaps half a head taller than she was. He was also broad, cut wide at the top and narrow at the waist, and his clothing accentuated his physique. He was dressed in a tight black tee-shirt and blue jeans so beautifully worn in, the material hugged his well-muscled thighs and calves like a second skin.

  His chin was strong and graced with just the right amount of scruff, and his teeth, which flashed enticingly as he spoke, were straight and bright white. His thick, wavy hair was a dark blonde that framed his beautiful face in a reckless manner.

  Wrapped around his left bicep was some kind of black inked tattoo with thorns and crescent moons. It didn’t seem to have been done for vanity’s sake; this tattoo was barely visible, faded and worn as if it had been done eons ago, and it only just peeked out from the sleeve of his shirt when it stretched across his bulging arm. It gave him an added aura of mystery, especially when the phases of the moon in the tattoo seemed to change before her eyes.

  She blinked.

  A wave of his scent wafted over her, like sunshine and clean soap. It made her feel slightly lightheaded.

  “Who are you?” she asked. She’d actually meant to ask, “Who the hell are you?” but her manners had kicked in before she could stop them.

  The man looked up from where he’d so gracefully knelt, pinning her with bi-colored eyes that made her feel like her stomach were churning butter. They were vivid green, flecked with shards of sparkling purple; as purple as the very amethyst path she stood on, and as green as an emerald city.

  That’s not right, she thought. Eyes didn’t look like that.

  “Let me guess,” he said, slowly rising once more to his impressive… somewhat troubling height. “You think you’re dreaming.” He stepped away from the animal, which had fully come around and looked up at them both with wide, blue, uncertain eyes. “You think you’ve gone off your rocker,” the man continued, turning his attention fully on Selene. “Or you’re hallucinating or asleep on your couch at home?”

  “The rocker thing, really,” said Selene softly. She blinked, wondering how she was managing to remain so calm.

  The man smiled, flashing those beautiful teeth that were white as paper. He stepped closer, and his boots made that wonderful sound on the path that always made her feel better. Everything about him is making me feel better, she thought. And then she nearly choked for thinking it.

  The stranger’s smile broadened. He shook his head. “You’re not dreaming, Selene. And you know it.”

  She frowned.

  “It’s all real. The grocery store changing before your eyes, the gem paths – this,” he said as he gestured to the world around them. “As real as any realm.” Again, with the smile that was doing funny things to her. “And here you are,” he said, taking another step toward her, “handling it like a pro. You aren’t curled up in a quivering ball, crying like a baby, are you? Would you like to know why?”

  “How do you know my name?”

  He was right, she was as confused as they came, and by all rights, she knew that she should be freaking out like a bat in daylight, but she was strangely calm. She was in control. She was, in fact, comfortable. When it came down to it, despite all the insanities occurring around her, the thing that was really throwing her in that very moment – was him.

  He laughed, and Selene felt dizzy.

  Holy hell.

  “The answer to both questions is the same.” He finally closed the distance between them, and Selene gave herself five stars for not stepping back. She didn’t want to step back anyway. What she wanted to do was kiss him.

  A lot.

  Oh no.

  They stood toe to toe, his towering height forcing her to crane her neck just a little, and Selene held her breath.

  “You aren’t afraid of this land, Selene, because you are a part of it, its plants, its animals… and even its king.”

  She was hypnotized, yet un-breathing, held seemingly without effort in the sway of the man before her.

  “And I know your name…” he whispered, leaning in to speak the words like magic across her lips, “because you’re my queen.”

  Chapter Twelve

  It was a very long, perhaps eternal, moment before Selene spoke. That was because it was a long moment before she could finally inhale. When she did, it was only to be bombarded with more of his wonderful scent... and something else that she couldn’t put her finger on, but which made her feel like she was floating.

  At last, she said, “I was wrong.” It came out stronger than she thought it would, and she felt proud. “I’m not mad,” she continued. “You are.” It was all talk, and barely that. But Selene had never been the silent type, and something about this oversexed hunk of hallucination before her just made her want to fight him. Then fuck him. But whatever.

  The man thought she was his queen. He was nuts.

  But… was that really so bad? If she was going to dream up a fantasy world, she may as well dream up a fantasy king and make herself his queen, right?

  She wondered what color the walls of her padded cell were.

  The man chuckled again, and she felt it in her gut this time – massaging her from the inside out. “It’s quite possible,” he admitted with that beautiful, killer smile. “I have my brother’s blood flowing through my veins right now, and he’s is about as evil as they come. Could be he’s driving me nuts,” he said with a slight shrug. “But I doubt it. I don’t feel like having a tea party or hiding bodies in my trunk.”

  He moved fast – too fast for her to defend herself against – and before she realized what he’d done, his arm was around her waist, his chest was pressed against hers, and stars swam in her vision.

  “What I do feel like doing is peeling this tiny top off your shoulders, sliding your skirt up over your fine, round ass, and getting to know you a hell of a lot better right here and now.”

  There were a few moments in a woman’s life when no one in the world would have blamed her for screaming, for clawing someone’s eyes out, or even for just flat out fainting dead away. This was one of those moments for Selene.

  So it was with a fair amount of internally suppressed shock that she actually did none of these things. Instead, she said, “The feeling’s mutual.” Then her eyes widened and she wanted to suck the words back in.

  The man’s emerald-amethyst eyes sparked, literally lighting up as if someone had set a match behind the gemstones embedded there. His grip around her waist tightened, and she could feel his fingertips pressing in possessively.

  Quickly, she inhaled and added, “But I would be horribly remiss if I didn’t also tell you that the only reason I feel that way is because you don’t exist, I’m in a loony-bin somewhere, and a one night stand in La La Land isn’t going to hurt anyone.”

  The man considered her, his smile slipping to give way to a very keen, contemplative expression, and Selene found herself suddenly feeling unsure. His gaze felt very, very real. He smelled real, he looked real… his breath across her lips had felt real. And the way he was looking at her now exposed her thoroughly to him.

  “You need convincing, I see,” he said softly. Then he touched his chin, rubbed it, and stepped away from her on the amethyst path, his arm sliding from her waist. “Very well.” He turned to take in the fantastic, impossible world she’d stepped into, and then glanced back at her over his
broad shoulder. “So tell me, raven one. What can I do to prove to you that this is all very, very real?”

  Raven one. Why did that term make her melt a little inside?

  The sense of uncertainty that had stolen over her seconds ago grew stronger. She felt odd now, torn between one state of being and the next. This was all too real.

  Something bumped her right leg, and Selene looked down. The kittybunnybird that had nearly attacked her earlier was at her ankle, looking up at her with enormous blue eyes. As she peered down, the animal butted its head against her leg and gazed up again expectantly.

  “She wants you to pet her,” said the man, who was watching them both with a slightly amused expression. But his eyes gave nothing away.

  “Who are you?” Selene asked again, realizing that he’d never answered her question.

  “My name is Avery,” he replied easily. “And that,” he continued, gesturing to the adorable creature at her feet, “is a Fuatharkan.”

  “A fu-… what?”

  “They’re affectionately known as cabbits,” he compromised, smiling now.

  “Cabbits,” Selene repeated dumbly. But her head was swimming. Feeling somehow stunned, Selene slowly – oh so slowly – knelt down. She wasn’t about to forget that only moments ago, the cute little kitty bunny had been an enormous black scythe-clawed beast with fangs.

  It was anything but that now, however. And as she drew closer to it, she experienced the nearly irresistible urge to pick it up and nuzzle it.

  “Her name is Rhea,” Avery told her.

  “What did you do to her?” Selene asked next, recalling the way he had shouted something and the animal had instantly transformed back into the creature she was now. She reached her fingers down, and the kitten bunny sniffed them before nuzzling them. It was just as soft as she’d thought it would be.

  “I simply spoke her true name.”

  Selene looked up when Avery walked over to her and knelt down beside her.

  “Knowing someone’s real name gives you power over them,” he explained as he gently rubbed the cabbit between its long, floppy ears, and the animal purred loudly.

  “But it sounded different,” she said, recalling that what he’d spoken had not been “Rhea.”

  “I spoke it in the language of the fae.” He stopped scratching the small, furry beast and rested his forearm on his knee, regarding her carefully. “This is an interesting string of questions from someone who is positive she’s gone mad and none of this is real.”

  Selene considered that, realizing he was right. “Baby steps,” she returned softly.

  Avery stood. She watched his beautiful body rise, graceful and strong. He offered her his hand. “Come with me,” he said, and his eyes compelling her like nothing ever had. “I’ve never been one for baby steps, and I mean what I say, Selene Trystaine. I am the king of the Seelie fae, and you are my queen. Let me show you once and for all.”

  Selene looked from his eyes to his hand. She was an artist, so she knew what she was talking about when she saw that it was a good hand, strong, capable, just the right size, fingers just the right length. It was perfect. Just like everything about him.

  Oh, what the hell, she thought, and she took his hand.

  *****

  The moment she placed her palm within his, everything began to change. The colors around her melted into one another as if one of her paintings had been suddenly splashed with turpentine. The only solid things remaining in this realm of melding acrylics were the purple-green crystals of Avery’s encompassing gaze.

  She focused on them, dizzy and a little frightened.

  “It’s the artist in you,” said Avery as he drew her nearer and once more slipped an arm around her waist. Selene was torn between shock at what was happening, confusion about what he was saying, and a building, thrumming heat that built up beneath his strong touch at her back and slowly spread through her body.

  “The reason you think you might be losing it,” he said easily, turning slightly away from her to raise his free hand in the opposite direction. “Creative minds always think they’re crazy. But in truth, they’re the sanest among us in an insane world.”

  Avery fanned out his fingers, and from his outstretched palm radiated a new light that cut through the swirling, shifting, melting mess of colors. That point of light spread, opening up what looked like a roughly round window in mid-air. Beyond the window, Selene could see the buses and cars and people of Oxford, England.

  No, she thought. I don’t want to go back. “What are you doing?”

  “I’ve been watching you,” Avery told her. He lowered his arm and looked down at her. He was so close, she was certain he would kiss her at any moment. Either that, or she was going to kiss him.

  His voice consumed her as he spoke, deep and magical. “I know you’re hurting,” he said. “I know the mortal world presses in on you, smothers you, and fuels a bitterness inside you that nothing will salve.” He smiled, but now all of his friendliness was gone, and the smile gave her horrible – wonderful – chills. “Nothing but this, anyway.”

  He released her waist and grabbed her hand. Then he stepped into the portal with her, pulling her through that swirling window, and she squealed. But the sensation was not actually shocking, as she’d expected it to be. In fact, it felt natural. She just stepped through, as if she were going out the back door of a house and into another world.

  Oxford solidified around her, beginning with its smell. Selene’s stomach clenched, and without realizing it, her fingers curled into Avery’s hand, nails finding purchase.

  Avery looked down at her. “This is your retribution. It’s time to find out what you can do, raven one,” he said with that wicked smile. “You have a magic inside you that has been waiting decades to be released. Now is your chance.”

  Selene frowned. She looked up at him, wondering what he could mean. Vehicles droned and honked around them. They were standing on a street corner, and there was no longer any sign of the window they’d come through. No sign of the magic.

  None of the people around them seemed to notice them there.

  Avery cupped her cheek with his free hand. Little zaps of heat rushed through her skin and into her gut, warming her from the inside out. “Pick your poison, Selene. Choose a wrong that angers you, that drives you.” His grin broadened, and his gaze slipped to her lips. “And then set it right.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Selene could not have described the emotions that came over her in that moment if she’d wanted to. Perhaps she could have painted them; the images would have been red and sharp and full of revenge, yet oddly also happiness. How did one paint happy vengeance or the chance to finally exact it?

  But it didn’t matter, because she didn’t want to describe them anyway. She felt free, suddenly. Unencumbered.

  “You game?” he asked meaningfully, still grinning.

  Did it really matter if this was real? If she really had power to fix things that were wrong with the world, even in her imagination, then why the hell not? How fucking validating would that be? Besides…. She was pretty certain this was all real.

  “I am so game.”

  He laughed and gestured to the city. “Well then, where to first?”

  “Not here,” she said. “The heat is irritating, the smokers are irritating, the financial fleecing is irritating – but for my first stop, I want to right a real wrong.”

  He waited patiently, his eyes glittering.

  “Let’s head to the most overcrowded animal shelter in the US.” Where they’re probably about to kill a bunch of healthy animals because they think there are too many of them already in the world, she thought silently. As if cats and dogs could ever outnumber humanity.

  Avery’s features took on a rather dark look of anticipation that told her he couldn’t wait to see what she had in mind, and the truth was, her own anticipation was riding up right next to his.

  “You got it, baby doll,” he said. Then he snapped his fin
gers.

  The world around them disappeared, and just a split-second before it rematerialized, Selene could hear the sound of dogs barking. It echoed as if it were bouncing off cold, hard walls in a cavernous space.

  The atmosphere darkened, grew colder, and the smell worsened, taking on the sharp tinge of fresh feces, urine, and unwashed furry bodies. The atmosphere solidified, and the sun was blocked from view.

  Selene let go of Avery’s hand and turned a slow circle. All around her, dingy cages approximately a foot and a half by three feet a piece, were stacked one upon the other against wall after wall. Within these cages were countless dogs and cats, some of them packed three to a cage.

  They were of all ages and all sizes, and when Selene and her companion appeared amidst them with no warning, many began to excitedly wag tails or lean against the front mesh bars in an effort to get closer. The cats looked on with big eyes, meowed, and rubbed their heads against the metal. Some of the dogs became aggressively loud, agitated by what they could undoubtedly sense was something unnatural. Animals were intuitive.

  Several of them appeared injured or sick, their fur matted, eyes missing, legs favored as they limped across their short cages to press against the bars. Food and water bowls were empty, or were in fact filled with the animals’ own waste.

  “We’re about to draw human attention,” warned Avery calmly. “What’s your plan, raven one?”

  Selene’s gaze left the animals and trailed down the walkway that led to the “veterinary” offices in the back of the shelter. Without a word, she made her way down the hall. The door was part-way open, and for some reason, she was devoid of fear, of reprimand, and even of the law, as she pushed it the rest of the way open and went inside.

  She had expected it to resemble Diana Chroi’s veterinary office. But at once, Selene realized her mistake. Diana Chroi was a good person, willing to do anything to save a life, human or otherwise. Her office was warm and inviting and filled with the things that brought animals comfort. But this was a pound. It was a rotating door for bodies that came in moving, and hopefully went out moving, but usually went out utterly still.

 

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