Lone Star Magic

by Karen Whiddon

  She stepped to go around him.

  He blocked her, hands clenched at his side, eyes narrowed. “I insist. We’ve been gone and the Warlord has had unrestricted access.”

  “Fine.” She wished he would just go; move away before she did something she’d regret. Like touch him. “Knock yourself out. Between the kitchen and the den, we’ve already checked out the entire house. I doubt there’ll be anything new in under my bed.”

  “I wasn’t worried about under your bed. More of what kind of traps he might have set up in your room.”

  “Traps?” She stared at him, her mouth dry, and suppressed the urge to lick her lips. “So far he’s been pretty direct. Do you think he’s setting traps for me now?”

  He shrugged. “You never know.”

  And she’d been hoping for normal? Finally conceding defeat, she let her shoulders sag. “Go on and check. I was really hoping we’d get a break from his attacks.”

  Before Alrick had appeared in her life, she’d lived in a comfortable vacuum. No high, no lows, but that was the only way she’d managed to banish the searing pain. Now her life was one constant roller coaster ride. Yippee.

  “The Warlord will not give up so easily.”

  “I’m beginning to get that. Finally.” She dragged her hand through her hair. Frustration surged through her, fueled by the unwanted awkward timing of her libido. “Just go check out my bedroom. I want to go to sleep.” Lie number one. She really wanted to scream and yell and throw things. To stage her own futile protest, hoping a bit of playing drama queen might make her feel better. To fight with Alrick, and fight well, then make up later with a bone-thrilling kiss. Damn it.

  Without another word, he moved past her into her bedroom. After a deep breath she followed.

  Her bedroom looked just as it had before she’d left – the crystal lamp on her nightstand on, perfume bottles still neatly lined up on her antique oak dresser. The Texas quilt Liam’s mother had made still covered her queen-sized bed, undisturbed as ever. Her room looked exactly the same, as though the ants had never invaded.

  The room of a spinster. She winced at the thought. She was no spinster – she was a widow. There was an entire world of difference between the two.

  While she watched, Alrick pushed back the faded blanket that served as her closet door ever since the old one had come unhinged and checked out her closet. Her four pairs of shoes were still lined up neatly and her meager supply of clothing still hung perfectly arranged by season and color. After he’d finished pawing through her things, he turned and went to her dresser. Ignoring her, he yanked open every single drawer and pawed through the contents, underwear and all. The state of her underwear was embarrassing. While she kept everything clean and mended the inevitable tears, the colors were faded and everything obviously needed to be replaced. She clenched her teeth, felt her cheeks color, and watched from the doorway, fighting to hide her agitation.

  Done with her underwear, Alrick looked under the bed. She stored old photo albums there, along with boxes containing her Christmas decorations.

  “It looks safe,” he finally said.

  She simply nodded. “Well then. Good-night.”

  If she’d hoped he’d leave, she was wrong. Instead, Alrick pulled back her comforter as though he meant to climb in her bed.

  A second later, he dropped it and jumped back, cursing. “By the Plains of Lothar!”

  Carly moved closer, and gasped. A mass of snakes writhed over her sheets. Swallowing a scream, she backed away so quickly she nearly fell. In the doorway, she stopped, shuddering. “I hate snakes. Damn that Warlord.”

  “Where are you going?”

  She shuddered again. “Another room. Somewhere where they aren’t.” Squinting at him, she grimaced. “You are going to kill them, aren’t you?”

  He glanced back at the bed. “Of course. But I don’t think you should go anywhere right now. We don’t know what other nasty surprises might be waiting.”

  “Great. Just great.” Compulsively, she scratched at her suddenly itchy arms.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Keeping his own distance from the bed, Alrick regarded her curiously. “You’re not in danger over there. They can’t jump that far. You’re not allergic to them too, are you?”

  “No, I’m not. At least, as far as I know. I’ve never gotten close enough to them to find out. Seriously, I hate snakes. Loathe them.” She took another step back for emphasis. “Any place where snakes are isn’t any place I want to be. I despise them.”

  “I get the point. I’ll get rid of them now.” He drew his crystal sword. The blade sang as he raised it high above his head.

  About. To. Chop. Up. Snakes. In her bed.

  “Yuck.” Carly turned, unable to watch. “I’ll take my chances in the kitchen. Be careful.”

  Once the snakes had been dispatched and disposed of, a thorough search of the rest of the house turned up nothing.

  Still scratching, Carly breathed a sigh of moderate relief. “Thank goodness.”

  “Yes. Now you can get some rest.”

  “Rest.” She closed her eyes. Opened them.

  “You said you were tired.”

  “I know. But I doubt I could sleep after that.”

  “You need your rest. Especially if the warlord attacks again tomorrow.”

  “True.” She shuddered. “But there’s no way I can sleep in that bed. Ever. Again.”

  “The snakes are gone. You’ve changed the sheets.”

  “Still…” There wasn’t any way to make him understand. He was a man. Maybe men had no problem with sleeping in a bed formerly occupied by a mess of writhing serpents. Another woman would have understood instantly. “I’ll tell you what. You can have the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “What if he’s put scorpions in the sofa cushions?” He pointed out, his voice reasonable.

  She scratched again. “Do you always have to sound so perfectly reasonable? It makes me want to slug you.”

  “Just common sense. So far the Warlord seems to have a thing for insects and reptiles.”

  Glaring at him, she took a step back. “We searched.”

  He grinned. “Just kidding.”

  “Just—. Your timing sucks, Alrick.” But she couldn’t help but smile. “You don’t really think there’s scorpions, then?”

  He gave a casual shrug, then ruined the effect by lifting one eyebrow. “You never know.”

  “He’s ruined my home, damn it. Why doesn’t he just show up and fight like a man? There’s nothing I’d like better than to punch that guy in the nose.”

  Alrick shook his shaggy head. “Just be glad he hasn’t figured out how to bring himself fully into our time – his past. Like the Mage said, the magical spells he uses now are nothing, compared to what he can do once he’s fully here.”

  Carly stared. “You know, we need a better plan.”

  He looked away. “I think we should stay on the move. A moving target is harder to find.”

  “On the move how? With what? He blew up my pickup, remember?”

  “We have two horses. My mare is gentle and would be a good mount for you.”

  “And you’d ride TM? Is that what you’re thinking?”

  He shrugged. “Why not?”

  “Because he’s not broken, that’s why. He has no idea how to respond to a rider on his back.”

  “I can teach him.”

  “While we’re fleeing for our lives? Not a good idea.”

  “You underestimate the stallion’s intelligence. Once he knows what is required of him, he will be fine.”

  She shook her head. “Alrick, as you know, I’m not a horse person. But I’ve been around them enough to know you can’t just jump up on the back of an unbroken three year old and expect to make him understand. Training a horse properly takes time. Liam figured over a year before TM was even green-trained.”

  “I am not Liam.” He crossed his arms. “I am Fae. Animals understand the Fae much better than humans.” />
  “Are you saying you’re like Doctor Doolittle?”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind. Are you claiming you can talk to the horses?”

  He gave her a modest smile. “Not in words you would understand, but yes.”

  “And you’d rather run than stay and fight?” She couldn’t help but mock him. Anything to wipe that smile from his face. “I thought you were some great warrior prince.”

  The smile went. She’d succeeded, but her victory didn’t feel as good as she’d thought it would.

  Alrick took a step towards her.

  Carly took a step back. Her heart beat loudly in her chest. She felt… alive. Enraged, frustrated, and oddly, aroused. Alive.

  Problem was – she wasn’t sure she liked it.

  Alrick stopped. “Until I have something solid to fight, until I believe I have a chance in winning, I’d rather keep you safe. While the Warlord slips in and out of time like a shadow, I cannot fight him. If hiding is necessary, that’s what we’ll do. There will come a day…” He took a deep breath, his expression dark. “Don’t toy with me, Carly. Not only do I have to worry about you, but this Warlord threatens my people, my home.”

  She heard pain in that gravely voice. Pain. She hadn’t intended to hurt him.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She held up her hands in front of her. “Really, really sorry. Truce?”

  She expected him to nod. Instead, he grabbed both her hands and pulled her to him, hard up against his muscular chest. A thrill went through her. Back bent, she looked up at him and licked her lips.

  He bent over her. Close.

  Damn. She closed her eyes.

  Touching his mouth to hers, he gave her a light kiss. She whimpered, wanting more, both ashamed and unbelievable aroused.

  “I can make you feel more alive than you’ve ever felt, Carly Roberts.” His eyes glittered as he whispered against her lips. “But if I were to come to you, I’d want it to be because we both wanted it. For mutual pleasure. Because you wanted me. Me. Not using me as a substitute for another man who’s long dead.”

  She went still. Felt the familiar pain stab at her breast but, instead of grief-stricken agony, she felt fury. Rage.

  She opened her eyes. Looked him full in the face and somehow, she was able to laugh. A cold-hearted, bitchy-sounding laugh, but way better than tears. “I doubt we’ll ever come together then, Alrick. After all, as you pointed out once before, you’re not to be the father.”

  Chapter Ten

  HER WORDS cut him when they shouldn’t. But that’s what he got for letting his desire for Carly over-rule his common sense. If he were the sort of man who looks for fault, he could excuse such a lapse of judgment away – he could blame it on the constant tension of being forced to run and hide rather than stand and fight as was his wont. Or the now nagging worry over Rune – not knowing was far worse than being able to face any threat and deal with it.

  But Alrick had never seen the point in trying to delude himself. He couldn’t lie to others; why lie to himself.

  Forcing his jaw to relax, he rubbed the back of his neck. He had meant to teach her a lesson. Turn the tables and show her how tempting such teasing felt. He’d tormented himself instead.

  Letting Carly go had been far more difficult than he’d imagined. Still, with his resistance crumbling, he’d had to take drastic measures. Better they were at odds, barely civil, than lovers.

  He could well imagine his father’s reaction. “Such a simple task too – a shame my eldest son couldn’t keep his leggings fastened. I’d hoped Alrick would grow out of thinking with the wrong head. This merely proves he’s not ready to become heir.”

  Heir. Next in line for the throne. His most fervent desire.

  Just the thought of his father’s scorn was enough to cool his over-heated body. Women, he told himself, were as plentiful as fruit on Rune’s overloaded trees. He could sate his sexual hunger once he returned home for good. Here and now, `twas time to concentrate on the task at hand.

  The Warlord. His threats had now expanded to include all Alrick held dear. Though the Mage had promised to keep him informed, Alrick had never been a patient man. He’d much rather face the enemy head on than play this constant game of cat and mouse.

  Yet he had no choice. He had to convince Carly – again – to leave. Quickly.

  “Excuse me.” Carly’s voice, icily polite.

  Despite his earlier resolution, his heart thumped an extra beat. Turning, he kept his face impassive. “Yes?”

  “If I’m to sleep on the couch, you’ll need to go somewhere else.” Leaning on the doorjamb, her arms were crossed. He told himself not to take her stony indifferent look as a challenge.

  “I’ll take your bedroom.” He could sleep in there as well as anywhere. Though he’d make a pallet on the floor before he’d sleep in that bed, at least this night. Snakes weren’t his favorite thing either. “I’ll go now.”

  “Wait.” She used her hand to block the doorway. “Explain to me about this Warlord.” Carly looked intense. Serious.

  Cautiously, he asked. “What do you mean?”

  “All you and Mort told me is how horrible the guy is. Wants world dominance, snuff out humankind, turn the Fae into puppets, blah, blah, blah.”

  “I don’t recall the puppet bit,” Alrick said slowly. “Other than that, you’ve summed up the Warlord completely. What else is there to say?”

  She pushed away from the doorjamb and began to pace. “Nobody is a hundred percent bad. What’s his motivation?”

  He stared. “His what?”

  “Motivation.” The wild gestures she made as she paced might have been amusing, if they’d been discussing another subject.

  “Motivation? He has plenty. I’d say power and greed rank right there at the top of his list.”

  “Yes, but what happened to the guy to make him so evil?”

  Women. Would he ever understand them? “Carly, I don’t know. He is what he is. Evil. Isn’t that enough for you?”

  She stopped. Opened her mouth, then closed it. Hands on hips, she faced him. “Enough? No, it’s not. I want to know why.”

  “Ask the Mage next time we see him. He’s promised to keep me informed on the doings in Rune.”

  Fresh interest made her eyes glow like green crystal.

  “Mort? Good idea. I’m sure he must know. He has to. Speaking of which, I have a question about Mort too.”

  Warily he waited.

  “If Mort the Mage has enough power to travel through time and remain in Rune and the Warlord can’t even manage to get here and stay, then why doesn’t Mort fight the Warlord? Obviously, he’s pretty damn powerful.”

  “No more so than any other Mage. The Warlord was a Mage once. He is more, now.”

  “So the Warlord can do what Mort cannot?”

  “The Warlord moves freely through time. Mort is trapped in what to him is the past.”

  She frowned. “I’d like to say I understand, but I don’t.”

  “Magic doesn’t fight magic. Coming through time, Rune to Rune, Fae to Fae, is not easy, true. But coming to Rune is ten times more simple than traveling through time to your world.”

  “Why?”

  “Who knows?” He ran a weary hand through his hair. “Fae are no longer welcome in the human world. Cenrick has always said we Fae are at fault, for neglecting you humans. Whether we allowed things to come to this or could have prevented the problem, magic is not wanted in your world.”

  “So that might be why the Warlord is having so much trouble staying here?”

  “Might be. As you’ve seen, when we use magic here in your world of machines, your world fights back. Magic, though an elemental part of nature once, is no longer that way here. Thus the tidal waves, earthquakes, and the tornado.”

  “You’re saying the Warlord could easily travel to Rune? Then why hasn’t he? Once he was solid there, it doesn’t seem to be that difficult of a spell for your guys to go through that veil thing to
get here.”

  “He knows he’d have a battle on his hands if he did. Until now, he hasn’t wanted to fight two wars – one in the past, one in this present.”

  “Until now.”

  Alrick grimaced. “Unfortunately. This is why the threat against Rune is so great.”

  “Do you have a way to get a hold of Mort, or do you have to wait for him to get in touch with you?”

  “I could call him if I needed him.”

  She grinned, apparently having forgotten her earlier mood. “Wanna borrow my cell phone?”

  Though he knew she was joking, he couldn’t help but answer her seriously. “We don’t have those in Rune. I suspect they are one of those very machines that blunt the magic.”

  “Good. Then I’ll bring it with me in case it might help against the Warlord.”

  “Contact him now. I’m curious.”

  “We just left Rune.”

  “I know. But if it’s not difficult and won’t cause some horrific natural disaster, would you?” She glanced up at the sky. “I’d really like to know what made the Warlord so evil.”

  “Why?”

  “As you said, understanding your enemy can help defeat him. There might be something there, some little kernel of information that would help us.”

  Something tickled the back of his neck. Absently, Alrick brushed it away. A huge, black spider landed near his foot and began to scuttle towards Carly.

  Carly let out a shriek, flicking at her arm.

  Another gigantic spider landed on the floor.

  “What the—?”

  “Look!” Carly pointed towards the hall. An army of spiders poured in through the doorway.

  And the windows, and the ceiling. From every available fissure and crack they came. Black spiders, brown spiders, large spiders and small.

  “It’s like in the Bible or that old movie, The Ten Commandments.” An edge of hysteria made Carly’s voice high. “Except instead of locusts, this is a plague of spiders.”

  “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Oh, yeah we do. Have I mentioned I hate spiders nearly as much as I hate snakes?”

  “No, you haven’t.” He tried to think. There was no clear path to the door. “Are you allergic to them too?”