Burn for Me (Edanholme Book 1)

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Burn for Me (Edanholme Book 1) Page 13

by Catherine Fitzpatrick


  ingrained, misguided immorality of Sidhe dynamics. He had no control over a Hell Cat

  who fought him, as he had fought the Queen’s unwanted advances. Grudging admiration

  for a female who could stand apart, be counted as a warrior in an archaic society that

  repressed any female but the Matriarch, stilled his mirth. Drusal wanted Cat. He wanted

  the stubborn female in whatever form she took.

  An impatient shout at the door broke into a stunning revelation.

  “Fur ball get a move on, your breakfast is going cold.” Definitely no subservience dwelt

  in the musical cadence of a demanding request. “Full English is waiting…”

  Wrapping a towel round his waist, Drusal emerged from the bathroom in a steamy mist

  of tea tree aroma.

  “Tell me you haven’t emptied every bottle of bath oil into the water?” Setting a tray on a

  bedside table, Cat growled at the misuse of her favourite bath-time treat.

  “If I say yes… Will you tell me what full English means?” Drusal countered, unaware of

  any crime he had committed.

  “It means eggs, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, tomatoes and toast.” Plumping down on the

  side of the bed Cat noticed his back appeared smoother, the scars less distinct.

  “Tea tree has a medicinal effect on your body?” She whispered in awe at the speed of his

  body’s recovery.

  “It has been recorded so…” Inhaling the mouth-watering aroma from a plate resting at

  Iscatya’s side, Drusal knelt on one knee. He should be feeding his mate not vice versa.

  “May I eat my mate?” A softly spoken request fell into surprised silence.

  Shocked that he had asked to eat, Cat came close to levitating from the bed.

  “Don’t ask, just eat…” Moving out of reach, she abandoned her perch to Drusal.

  “You must be starving, after all the abuse your body has taken. If you feel the need to eat

  any time of the day, help yourself. The fridge is full. There are fruit bowls in all the

  downstairs rooms.” Shaking her head in disbelief, she was more concerned than ever for the

  survival of the warriors she had sent back to Court. Which was stupid really, they obviously

  fed well, considering the fabulous physiques common to all Sidhe males. Curiosity killed the

  cat, but the insatiable desire to know more of the life Drusal had led before she was born

  ate at this Cat. Sitting cross legged on the cream carpet, she watched him wolf down the

  food with neat speed. Head tilted to one side, she was reluctant to interrupt his obvious

  enjoyment of a simple meal.

  Drusal’s lips twitched, recognising gnawing curiosity in the way she wriggled in place.

  He was beginning to read and understand Iscatya’s body language, she was itching to ply

  him with questions. Passing over a piece of buttered toast, a token gesture of feeding his

  mate, opal eyes glowing iridescently, he inclined his head a fraction.

  “Ask what you wish Iscatya…” Drusal drawled lazily.

  “How do you know I’m dying to know more about you? I blocked my thoughts.” Nibbling at

  the toast she leaned back on one hand, nose curled in annoyance.

  “Thy body betrays thee…” He teased, imitating her wiggle.

  “Very funny Fur ball…” Cat licked butter off one finger, enjoying the way his eyes latched

  greedily onto her mouth. “Are my moods so obvious?”

  “To me they are… I have been the recipient of the many facets of thy nature.” Biting down

  on the last piece of toast, hunger for food assuaged, hunger for an intriguing female a nagging

  need, Drusal encouraged her curiosity with raised brows. Cat eyed him warily, Grandmother’s

  hound was observant, but then he had to be as the ultimate hunter, a menacing shadow,

  reaching out to claw back all who had escaped the soul destroying society of the Sovereign

  Court. Piecing together bits of information was instilled in her brain, ingrained in her

  education as an optometrist. The mantra of Professor Jones came back with vivid recall.

  Listen to your patients. Be aware of the ramifications of symptoms that may appear to be

  innocent, they may lead to more sinister complications. Look for the obvious, but be aware

  of differential diagnosis. The instructions she had received as an undergraduate were more

  than appropriate when dealing with Drusal and his mercurial shifts in nature.

  “Do you think my body language will betray my feelings to others?” Cat’s plan rested on her

  ability to show the Queen a secure attachment to her marked mates. Any indecision or

  hesitation could signal fatal consequences for all.

  “Only to those who know you intimately…” Lying back on the pillows, Drusal stretched both

  arms wide, flexing the muscles of biceps and pectorals in a display of masculine perfection.

  “The Queen has no understanding of body language, except for the flinching of abused bodies

  and the cowering servitude of her closest spies. Beyond that she is blind to the nuances of

  the simple thoughts and feelings in the Sidhe she was empowered to protect. We…

  In this I include thee my mate, we are nothing more than vermin to be tolerated at best,

  perceived as pests to be tamed or exterminated at will. In her arrogance Istirina will not

  allow for you to be anything more than another impotent vassal, to be used and abused as

  she sees fit. Such unseeing ignorance falls in your favour.” Drusal tucked hands behind his

  head, satiated and comfortable for the first time in days. He saw no harm in sharing the

  faults of the Queen with her kin and Heir.

  “The Court no longer functions as it should. My brethren and I have been cast adrift to fend

  for ourselves. If we eat, it is because we hunt in other forms. There is no rhyme or reason

  in the Queen’s lack of nurturing of her warriors. We survive as animals because we have no

  alternative course of dealing with basic needs.” Turning to face the figure curled up on the

  carpet, Drusal let his mind drift. Rending apart a raw animal was a means of nourishment to

  a wolf. The inbred nature of a wild creature to take food when or where available, a simple

  solution to gnawing pains in it’s gut. Until fed by Iscatya, he had not eaten anything other

  than the animals he caught and dismembered, to sustain an earth element that grew

  gradually less distinct. His brethren shared the same peril.

  Istirina failed in the attempt to bear another child, by denying the males left to rot at Court

  the basic nourishment to fuel their bodies.

  Cat had caught his whispering thoughts, her stomach roiled with disgust at the blatant

  neglect of a Sovereign figure, who wilfully denied her subjects the staples of life. Biting at

  her bottom lip, a sure sign she was building up to a revelation that would cause more chaos,

  Cat lifted her eyes to Drusal’s face.

  “I sent Grandmother some unpleasant gifts while you were unconscious. I doubt she is still

  in ignorance of my powers.” Jumping to her feet, impatient to put several plans into action,

  she let her eyes drift over the glowing skin of a very desirable male. She daren’t give into

  that desire. Not yet…

  “I have plans Drusal. It’s time to go pro-active. We both want the same thing, freedom for

  your brothers. To do this, I have to set in motion some sort of funding to support a home

  for any of the Sidhe realm willing to take on the risk of forming a new Court. I need the help

  of my b
usiness partner to even consider taking on such an enormous task.”

  Unaware of the regal bearing she assumed so easily, the wild lash of red brown hair drifting

  in waves over her shoulders, a Princessin asked for his support.

  “Alex is fully human. Her presence in my home is a necessary expedient in establishing a

  safe haven ready to take in the warriors. I ask that you do nothing to hurt or intimidate her.”

  Emerald eyes flashed in a silent warning.

  “I love her dearly as I would a sister. Respect to any member of my family, whatever their

  species, is a requirement I demand from you right now, or concede the mating bond.”

  Heart pounding in her breast, Cat waited for the disgust he felt for all things human to

  override the compulsion inherent in a marked mating to be forever bound.

  To lose the hope of fulfilment in a shared bond with a female who continued to surprise

  him, made Drusal glaringly aware of the rare gift of being in the presence of a truly

  powerful and unselfish ruler. One not to be squandered lightly….

  If it meant he had to accept a world his mate was unprepared to relinquish, then so be it.

  “As you wish Iscatya…” He inclined his head, a slow nod of agreement with the hesitation

  that came just before a rider, following hot on the heels of seeming submission.

  “It will try my patience, much as I try yours… I will do my best to accede to the demands

  of distasteful compliance.” Tight lipped and blank faced Drusal crossed his arms over the

  taut muscles of his chest. The demeanour of a spoilt child was the wrong one to adopt

  in the face of growing anger at his petulant disavowal of her adopted species.

  “For God’s sake Fur Ball…” It was time to play nasty. The shit hit the fan, not literally, but

  metaphysically, to waft the effluvia of bodily waste in his direction with pin-point accuracy.

  “That’s the smell of death and decay, the sweet aroma of Dardanos’s breath. The overpowering

  stench of a beast off the leash, ready to rape the Queen’s granddaughter with no

  fear of reprisal.” Skin sheathed with the tint of a blood red sun, Cat fought down the

  imminent release of glamour at the memory of her anger, at the sight of his battered face.

  “Do you really want to go back to a way of life where the purity of your essence is overwhelmed

  by the taint of rotting flesh?” Pacing the carpet, bare feet left a deep indentation as Isactya

  unleashed another mini tornado, to blast a revolting stink in Drusal’s face.

  “You… You alone brought me into a world of chaos. I am trying my best to help secure

  freedom for your brothers, and you just sit there sulking, because I asked that you be nice

  to a human. The pout doesn’t suit the body, grow up Lord Vardon.”

  Drusal’s wrath at being addressed in a manner that held images of the Queen at her worst

  brought home to him forcefully whose blood ran in Iscatya’s veins. He could leave the witch

  to fend for herself, seek exile in his father’s homeland of Gaul, or he could do as she asked

  with a show of meekness.

  “I find your proposal distasteful….” He had not lied, had not submitted meekly.

  “Well good for you…” She spat at him.

  “Sit and wallow in your sanctimonious little nest, while I find a way to save your kin.”

  Slamming from the bedroom Cat let out a long strangled scream of frustration.

  I hope the bed bugs bite your ass… She thought spitefully, before racing down the stairs to

  get as far away as possible from a bigoted, self-important, incredibly desirable piece of ass.

  Drusal heard the scream and interpreted it correctly, he had pissed her off.

  There were some colloquialisms he had absorbed, in the infrequent forays into the human

  world. This particular one suited her mood exactly. Iscatya could accomplish anything

  with the least of her powers. That she had thrown a miasma of decay at his head, instead

  of removing it, showed an impressive degree of restraint that her grandmother could learn

  from. He did wallow, in a fugue of anger and remorse. To be told to grow up did not sit

  well on the shoulders of a male who counted centuries from the day of his birth.

  He found it difficult to accept commands or demands from a female. For too long had his

  life been directed by the whims of a loathsome mistress. He had little control over the

  instinct to deny the wishes of royalty. To become one with Iscatya, he would have to

  learn to bridle his tongue and curb an aversion for all that is of the human world.

  Dressed in the sweat pants and vest she had slept in, face free of make-up, Cat hugged her

  best friend with unfeigned delight. Taking the brown paper bags filled with nibbles from

  their favourite deli, she plonked them down on the kitchen table.

  “I’ve missed you…” Tears threatened to fall in a cascade. Cat hadn’t realised how much

  Alex meant to her until Drusal condemned the human race as worthless beings.

  “Hey girl you look like shit… Pardon my French.” Sinking onto a chair, a human cherub ran

  her gaze over Cat’s creased clothing.

  “Missing the lovely Phillipe so much, you can’t be bothered to dress?” Immaculately attired

  in tailored shorts and crisp white blouse, Alex pursed scarlet lips in a moue of disappointment

  at Cat’s apparent descent into depression.

  “Nothing so self-destructive angel…” Cat laughed huskily. “My family life is a little bit

  complicated right now. I really need your wizardly skills on the computer to access every

  last penny Phillipe secreted away in my name. Between us, we are going to find a way to

  fund a halfway house for refugees.” Coming straight to the point of the hastily arranged

  meeting, she searched through the assortment of goodies Alex had the foresight to bring

  along. Head bent in musing over an array of bagels, Cat missed the exasperation on her

  friend’s caring face.

  “Run that by me again…. We are moving into charitable housing?” Snatching at the cream

  cheese bagel in Cat’s hand, she moved it out of reach. “Spill or I hold the bagel hostage.”

  Alex grinned wickedly, wafting the morsel under the nose of her boss.

  “It’s a delicate situation… I was recently made aware that I have an extended family.

  They are being repressed by a despotic ruler, without recourse to any government help.

  A representative of my family sought me out to elicit help, to form an alliance in offering

  an escape route.” Leaning back in the chair, Cat shook her head in disgust, at a pathetic

  attempt to portray the suffering she was soul bound to alleviate.

  “Sounds like a second rate novel doesn’t it? Now give me the bagel.” With a half-hearted

  attempt at a laugh she bit into the doughy ring with a gusty sigh.

  “It’s too ridiculous not to believe… Was the representative the hunk? That masterpiece

  of delicious man, who wanted to speak to you personally?” Bound up in Cat’s fictitious

  explanation of a halfway house, Alex leaned forward, chin resting on her hands.

  Nodding round a mouthful of food, Cat swallowed before attempting to answer.

  Alex beat her to it. “That explains it. You couldn’t resist his charm…. Don’t you read the

  papers? Slavery is on the increase, women are being brought into the country to serve

  as prostitutes among other things.” Slamming her hand on the table, Alex shook her head.

  “Cat… Have you gone completel
y nuts? I won’t have anything to do with abduction, or use

  money laundering to cover up illegal immigration.”

  Cat paled, breath caught in her throat, choking on a last morsel of cream cheese. Put like

  that, her ploy to use Alex’s skills, did indeed sound very much like some sordid undercover

  operation to fill the brothels of Yorkshire. Resorting to using glamour on her friend to get

  the information she needed was tantamount to rape. No way on this planet could she do

  that to a woman she classed as a sister. Floundering in a fit of torn allegiance, Cat sank her

  head onto the table.

  Fur ball chose that moment to slither into the kitchen on paws too big for his puppy body.

  With a growl he curled round her leg, long tongue rasping the skin of one ankle.

  “So you decided to make an appearance, the bed bugs too much for you?” With one hand

  she pushed the puppy away. His whimper was pathetic.

  “Oh he’s so cute… Come here boy.” Holding a hand out to a fluffy golden ball, Alex had

  no idea she was inviting the Queen’s hound to sniff her hand.

  A low snarl erupted from a vision of cuteness, snout retracted to reveal sharp little fangs,

  ready to sink into the flesh of the unwary. Dropping a hand on his head, Cat leaned down

  to look into vibrant amber eyes. Do you want me to shave off all your fur? Be nice to Alex…

  The threat in her eyes, in the intensity of a searing thought, pounded into Drusal’s skull.

  I can do it and you know it Fur ball, Ready to take that chance?

  Scooting forward he allowed the human female to touch him. With a disdainful Sniff, he

  sneezed heartily before retreating to curl up on the patio, to soak up the noonday sun.

  “Did you have to be so mean…?” Alex’s eyes lingered on a little ball of golden fur.

  “If you don’t want him, I’ll take him.”

  Alex was the one person other than Shayla and Jarl that Cat trusted beyond doubt.

  Trusting her man hungry colleague with knowledge of a realm where the males could all

  be models for GQ, was the only option left in moving forward from an impasse.

 

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