by Sarra Cannon
“Chat about what?”
“Anything you’d like.”
“We’re in a disgusting, foul, airplane lavatory. I don’t want to breathe in here, much less talk.”
“So, I guess a mile-high shag’s out of the question?”
“You—”
He laughed. “I’m just fuckin’ with ya. I need to taper off some of the energy I picked up or I’m going to pop up on other supernaturals’ radar screens like a blimp. Need to avoid that given the nature of my job. Discretion is important.”
“Oh.” Being a glowing target obviously didn’t sound like a good thing. “What do you need to do?”
“Just hold still. This won’t hurt at all.” He cupped her chin and pressed his lips to hers. She opened for him, let his tongue into her mouth where it gently probed, flicked. She rested her hands on his hips, neither pushing nor pulling, but attempting both at once. She wanted more and less. Didn’t want to give in to the six-foot-whatever pain in her ass, but ceding bits of her control to him felt so easy. So…natural.
Her lips tingled, throat tightened, and heart beat impossibly fast as the warmth spread throughout her body. His infusion energized her—the exact opposite of what he’d done to her back at the motel. She felt like she could do anything. She could run a marathon or beat an MMA fighter at his own game. She could… Hell, she could probably even fly with the way she was feeling.
She giggled.
Heath leaned back wearing that damnable smirk. “It’s just temporary. I’ll pull it back off you later.”
She caught sight of her bottom lip poking out in her periphery. “Why can’t I keep it?”
“If it had belonged to a baddie, I might have let you. That belongs to those people I put the sleep in those back rows. I’ll need to push it back to them when the plane lands.”
“Fine. If you insist.”
“I do.” He nudged the lock down and grabbed the handle. “I’ll just take a peek out first and see if anyone’s watching.” He opened the door, looked out, and quickly closed it. “Flight attendant has her back turned, so come out right after me.
“Got it.” She followed him into the aisle, pausing just for a moment to look at the supposed fairy in the back row. He sat slumped over, his hair covering in his face, and snores falling out of his open mouth. He was broad, but not as large as Thom. Thom could probably easily take the man in the fair fight. What had he done to merit the use of magic in close quarters?
She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Clinging to ignorance wasn’t generally an endeavor she’d extol, but the more she knew about this secret world her mother had apparently escaped from, the more frightened she’d become. If her choice was between being cursed and lonely, and being mortified and tentative out in the world, she’d prefer to be back at that sad excuse for a motel.
She slid into her seat, fastened the belt, and with shaking hands, took her food back from Thom. “You ate my roll.”
“Nearly broke a tooth in the process. You should thank me for sparing you, my lady.”
Chapter 7
Heath hadn’t wanted to expose Simone to the grittier side of Sídhe personalities so soon—they were on their fucking honeymoon, after all—but he didn’t see where he had a choice.
Five miles from the airport, Thom had pulled the rental car over, and Heath ground his knee against the absconder fairy’s back and pushed his face against the soggy ground. Heath had given him back just enough of his energy to enable him to formulate coherent thoughts, but he insisted on playing the stuck-on-stupid role.
Thom gave the prat’s ribs a little kick with the tip of his steel-toe boot.
Simone, leaning out of the front passenger’s seat window, gasped, then growled at them. “Really? Was that really necessary?”
“Yup,” Thom said. “We’re actually being quite kind seeing as how we’re in mixed company.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to see you being mean, then.”
“You might have to soon enough, my lady. Fairies are only sweet in children’s books.”
Shaking his head, Heath pressed his knee against Dirtbag Deanie’s spine a little harder. “I want my knife back, Deanie.”
“I don’t have it!”
“Bullshit.”
“You have others.”
“You’re right.”
Thom gave him another “little” kick.
Deanie groaned.
“Let him have a break, Thom, so he can hear through his pain.” Heath grabbed the back of Deanie’s hair and gave it a yank.
“Ow! I thought you were giving me a break!”
“Thom’s giving you a break. I never insinuated myself into that moratorium. Now, you’re right. I have other knives, but I want that one back. You stole it, and I don’t take kindly to having gods-blessed artifacts stolen from me. I need it back. It was meant to be a gift for my mate.”
“What?” Simone gawped.
Thom gave a dismissive wave. “Not you specifically, but for his mate in general. We start collecting gift items pretty early on. You just know what they’ll like even before you meet them.”
“What would I possibly do with a knife?”
“No idea. I doubt Heath knows, either. He probably only knows that it’s yours.”
“Exactly.” Heath let go of Deanie’s hair so his forehead hit the ground with a thud.
“Ow!”
“It was a beautiful knife. Had lovely engraving on the handle, and you could just feel the gods’ favor pouring off it. That knife was crafted specifically for you.”
“Uh, okay.”
“I’ll get it back.”
“Don’t trouble yourself. I can’t believe you’re doing all this just over a knife.” She pulled away from the window and slumped into the seat.
Thom chuckled. “The knife is a small part of it. This asshole called himself a friend to our crew, and then stole from all of us when we were out on a mission. If it’d just been money, we might have been able to let it slide. We know it’s hard for old fairies to get by outside the realm without ready cash, but he took personal belongings and sold information.” He folded his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t ya?”
“I didn’t think you’d find out.”
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me? That all you have for an excuse?” Heath got off him and yanked him up by the collar before he could skitter away.
“Give me some time, my lord, and I’ll come up with something else.”
“Yeah, how about no? To Mum, you go.” He encircled Deanie’s neck and started siphoning energy off him.
“Wait—wait!” Deanie squirmed in Heath’s grip and tried to pry his prince’s fingers off his neck.
“Too late for talking now,” Thom said.
“No! You can’t take me to Rhiannon!”
“And I wouldn’t have,” Heath said. “Truly, I wouldn’t have. I have enough on my plate already without having to round up runners.”
“She’ll kill me on sight!”
“Why? Did you steal from her, too?”
Deanie gulped. “Wh-what if I can tell you where the stuff is?”
“All of it?”
“Uh…” He cringed. “I may have sold some of it.”
“Did you sell the knife?”
“I did.”
Heath drew a huge bolus of energy off him.
“Wait, Prince, wait! I sold it, but I’m certain I can get it back. Just give me a few days. Maybe a week.”
Heath cut his gaze to Thom, but didn’t loosen his grip on Deanie’s neck. “What do you think?”
Thom shrugged. “We can tag him.”
“That’s permanent!” Deanie squirmed harder, effectively cutting off his own air. He sputtered and gasped.
Heath rolled his eyes.
“You know what else is permanent?” Thom asked. “Death. Death is permanent. We needed a distraction for Rhiannon, anyway, and you’ll do fine.”
“Okay! Okay, tag me. I’ll get you the knife.�
�
“And everything else you have left, too. Siobhan thought she misplaced some baubles last year, but I suspect that isn’t the case.”
Deanie gave his head a tiny shake and sputtered again. “I’ll get what’s still out there. Not gonna be all of it, Prince. That’s impossible.”
Heath bobbed his head toward Thom.
Thom gave Deanie a hearty thump to the back—a transfer of magic that worked kind of like magical GPS. Thom would always be able to find him. Deanie would never truly be able to run from them again.
Heath dropped Deanie and brushed his hands clean on his jeans. “One week, Deanie. We’ll find you, wherever you are.”
Deanie scrambled to his feet and ran back in the direction of the airport.
Thom got into the driver’s seat. Heath took the back. They started toward their mounds.
Tension in the little car was practically palpable as Simone drummed her fingers against her arms and scowled at Heath through the side view mirror. He was glad she’d gotten her pep back. She had him worried for a while on the plane and then afterward when he’d pulled that excess energy off her.
“Go on and let me have it,” Heath said with a sigh. “No need to hold your tongue.”
“I don’t need your permission to talk.”
“I didn’t say you did. I’m simply encouraging discourse.”
“You’ll regret doing so.”
“I doubt it, so go ahead and say what’s on your mind. I’d hate for you to grind those fine teeth of yours to dust. Of course, I could certainly afford to replace them, but—”
She whipped around to face him. “You two are thugs! Fairy mobsters!”
Thom snorted.
Heath rolled his eyes. “We’re all like that, love. The Sídhe are very practical beings.”
“That’s what you call practicality? That’s what I call bullying.”
No, his mother was a bully. Half the realm cowered at the mere mention of her name. Heath considered himself to be pretty laid-back for a fairy. If he weren’t so forgiving, he would have killed his mother a long time ago just as she’d killed her parents. At least he had a good excuse, whereas she’d just grown impatient with waiting her turn to be queen. Heath wasn’t certain he wanted to be king at all. Sounded like a dreadful job, having oversight over tens of thousands of Sídhe. Failing them again and again.
No, thanks.
He sighed. “I’m not a bully. I promise you that.”
“Other people’s promises always seem to get me into hot water.”
“So, I suppose telling you to just trust me wouldn’t go over very well.”
“If your end goal is getting punched in the nuts, it’ll go over exactly as expected.”
“Sassy. You have no idea how horny that makes me. Have you ever fucked in the backseat of a car this small?”
Her jaw dropped and her gaze flitted over to Thom, whom wasn’t even bothering to suppress his laughter. “That’s none of your business.”
“I’d say it is. And don’t worry about Thom. Fairies don’t get hung up over nudity.”
“And I don’t plan on giving him any reason to practice exhibiting that calm.”
Oh, we’ll see.
Thom had watched Heath and whatever lover he’d had at the moment plenty of times in the past. Didn’t bother Heath at all, but the women always seemed to want to pull Thom into the mix. They couldn’t stand that he could sit there and be so detached, but of course, there was nothing he could do for them if his dick didn’t get hard.
Heath would bet good money that Simone would be the kind of woman who’d get off on having a man watch—on driving him mad with her teasing, knowing that he wouldn’t touch.
Little minx.
“Would you mind telling me where we’re going now?” she asked.
He sighed. “Might as well. When I finally got myself out of bed a couple of days ago, Thom informed me a certain one of my mother’s subjects might be in a spot of trouble.”
“In what way?”
“That’s harder to explain. Suffice it to say, Mum holds long grudges and this particular person doesn’t deserve her wrath.”
“So, what do you intend to do? Talk to your mother?”
Thom guffawed. “There is no talking to Rhiannon. She yells, and you do what she says, for the most part.”
“She sounds like a despot.”
“That’s putting it mildly. You’ll note that Heath’s crew are happier on average than the majority of Rhiannon’s subjects because being out with him means we get to stay away from her.”
“What are you going to do? Just grab and run?”
“More or less.” Heath shifted his legs to the well on the other side. The tiny car had been the only vehicle immediately available on the lot. If they’d waited a couple of hours, they might have been able to get a proper sedan, but they didn’t have time to wait. They needed to be in and out and ready to get on a plane heading toward the opposite direction in three hours’ time. “Usually, Mum’s subjects need her permission to leave the realm, and she’s not generally inclined to give it. Most of the portals are guarded by magic, if not by men.”
“How exactly are you going to get people out, then?”
“They may be guarded,” Thom said, “but certain guards are less…zealous than the others.”
“They turn a blind eye when you’re around, you mean.”
“Aye.”
“So…am I just going to wait in the car while you two carry out your gallant mission?”
“Nah,” Heath said. “As much as I like the idea of having a getaway driver waiting outside the mounds for us when we’re on the run, I think you need to get a peek at what it is you’re missing. You’re a princess of the realm, after all. You should at least see it once.”
“I am not a princess.”
“Oh, but you are. You’re my wife. I’m a prince. That makes you a princess.”
“I’m an abductee with bogus travel documents, probably magicked into existence by Hestia. That’s it.”
Heath rested his head against the seat back and banged it a few times. “What would it take to convince you otherwise?”
“I’m not sure there’s anything that could convince me, but then again, I’m a naturally incredulous sort of girl. So…good luck.”
Heath didn’t generally need luck in matters concerning women. He had charm and a big dick. Apparently, his princess required more. Figures.
Thom turned the little wind-up car off the highway and onto a dirt path that wove through a field of tall, grassy hills—mounds. A few of them contained portals into the fairy realm. They required the right mix of genetics to activate, so the typical day hiker strolling around couldn’t accidentally discover them. Even if they had managed to get in, they’d likely never be able to find their ways back out. If the guards didn’t sense their presence and apprehend them, they’d waste away in the dark, as the tunnels would give them neither light nor exit.
They parked behind one medium-sized mound and Thom got out, leaving the keys in the ignition.
“Quick Sídhe primer for you.” Heath heaved himself out the tight backseat before Simone could stand and open her own door. “We’re a lusty bunch. Try not to be offended if anyone expresses his or her appreciation for your…assets.”
She nudged her mirrored sunglasses down her nose and stared at him over the tops. Damn, those eyes. The darkest caramel he’d ever seen.
“My assets?”
He shrugged. “Those of us who haven’t found our mates tend to be quite free from a sexual standpoint. Casual sex isn’t a taboo. It’s practically a medical necessity.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“Only a little.” Thom sheathed his dagger at his back and waited by the mound. “No one will harass you if they think you’re Heath’s, but we don’t intend on telling anyone that you are. We don’t want word to circulate to his mother so quickly. She’ll want to know who you are, and from there, she’ll find out what you
are. That won’t be good for any of us.”
“I think I probably stand out a little this far north, don’t you think?” She indicated her bare wrist, likely the brown coloring of it.
“Perhaps a little,” Heath said. “But if we say you’re Afótama, they’ll take our word for it.”
“Who are the Afótama? I’ve never heard the term before.”
“No, you probably wouldn’t have. They’re pretty private, and they’re whom we’re going to see right after we leave this place. Just stay close to me. I doubt we’ll encounter anyone old enough or strong enough to get a read on your energy, especially with it being suppressed, but stay near just in case. If you stand close enough to me, my energy will overlap yours and confuse them enough that they’ll leave you be. They expect my energy to be a little different each time I come just due to the nature of my job, so it wouldn’t be unusual if it had a different flavor about it.”
“Right.” She swallowed.
Nerves?
Thom raised his hand to the mound, but Heath stopped him. “Wait. Just curious. See what happens if Simone touches it.”
Thom stood back. “Just place your palm flat to the sod, my—”
“Don’t you my lady me.”
“Apologies.” He turned his gaze to the sky, but couldn’t suppress his smirk.
She shook out her hand as if to psych herself up to touch a hot surface on a dare, and then pressed it flat to the mound and yanked it back quickly.
The sod pulled away immediately to reveal the old wooden door and the two steps leading down to it.
Simone let out a little shriek, and tried to jump back, but Heath’s body was in the way.
He chuckled.
“Huh.” Thom folded his arms over his chest and squinted into the tunnel. “Not so sluggish today, is it?”
“No, not at all. There’s only one other person it likes that much, and he hasn’t been inside the tunnel for, what…twenty years?”
“Longer than that, I think. He stopped using it after he burned out.”
Simone cleared her throat. “Is that thing…alive?”
“No.” Heath looped his arm around her waist and tried to guide her toward the entrance. She wouldn’t budge, so he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. “It’s just magic. Magic things may seem sentient sometimes, but they’re not. They simply adapt to requirements.”