by Sarra Cannon
“What’d you do to me?” he panted.
Heath rolled his eyes. “I suppose not everything makes it through your bloody gossip mill, now does it? Did you really think my hunters relied so heavily on human weapons?”
“I guess I sort of did.”
Heath grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down the walkway, leaching off a bit more energy with each step. He’d have to siphon off the excess immediately. This wasn’t the sort he could transfer to Simone. It was the kind that needed to be bound up and destroyed through ritual.
They rounded the corner of the meeting building. Heath found Simone leaning against the rental car.
Spying their approach, she held the cuffs out to him.
“Thanks, Princess.” Heath cranked them on and threw his charge into the backseat facedown.
“Any problems?”
He slammed the door closed, pushing the miscreant’s feet into the car in the process.
The quarter-Sídhe let out a plaintive moan.
“No. Siobhan was right. He’s a one-fairy job. Even Matt would have been able to take him. Good to get him off the streets, though. Learned something interesting.”
“What?”
“Apparently, these mouth-breathing cretins communicate with each other. They know about each other in a way that we hunters don’t. I have one mind not to take him back to the realm just yet.”
“Gonna interrogate him?”
He shrugged. “I’d let the girls do it. They’re good at that shit and most people take them for granted.”
“So we have to get him on a plane now?”
“Aye. He’ll sleep most of the way. I’ll drain enough energy off him so he doesn’t talk too much to anyone who matters.”
“Okay.” She started for the passenger door, but he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close.
Her cheeks flushed that darling burgundy and she swallowed.
“Still think I’m a fairy brute, wife?”
“Why do you care what I think?”
“I don’t want you to be afraid of me. You’re not afraid of Thom, are you?”
“No.”
He stroked the underside of her chin and she raised it for him. Her breath went ragged and pupils large. “Why is that?”
“I don’t…I don’t really know.”
“Maybe give it some thought.”
She gave a minute nod. “Uh-huh.”
“Don’t go all swoony. I’m not that great a catch.”
“I’m not swooning.” She licked her lips and stared at his.
He chuckled. He knew it would happen. Being that close to one’s mate would certainly prompt a desire to touch, to connect. It didn’t matter what her brain said. Her body knew what to do.
He smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead. “Okay. Not swooning. A little love-drunk, maybe?”
Her pupils suddenly focused, and she pulled back from him. “Who’s in love, exactly?”
He barked with laughter and palmed the car keys. “Certainly not you. You ready to hit the road?”
“Yeah. Let’s get this flight out of the way.” She reached for the door handle once more, but this time, it wasn’t Heath who stopped her, at least not intentionally.
He heard the encroaching boomerang and threw her to the ground beneath him a split-second before it could strike her face.
“What the fuck?” She squirmed out from beneath him and scrambled onto all fours with fire in her eyes.
He picked up the boomerang—which had left a hell of a dent in the rental car’s roof—and got to his feet, already scanning the parking lot around them. “Probably just some kid.”
No such luck.
His reflexes were well honed, and fortunately Simone’s weren’t too bad either, because the two assailants came at them at once from behind either of the two cars beside them.
Heath didn’t even have time to draw a weapon, and in the tight space between the cars, there was really no room to use one anyway.
Fairy.
He lobbed a punch at the man and heard the crack to his skull, but the fairy kept swinging.
Heath punched, kicked, and wrestled the man onto the ground, suppressing him completely by drawing off all of his energy except the bit his heart needed to keep beating.
Then he turned to help Simone, but…she didn’t really need it.
“Bloody hell.”
She was on the man’s back, helping his face find the asphalt again and again. “Who the hell attacks women?” She smashed the side of his face against the ground once more. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I—I—”
“Just shut up.” Growling, she stood up and gave him a hard kick to the ribs.
Heath hopped over and picked her up.
She kicked and flailed to get back to the bloodied fairy, but he soothed her with his touch, his words. “It’s all right. He’s not going to get back up just yet. You got him.”
“He tried to—”
“Shh, shh.” He set her on the car hood on the other side and hugged her as she started to shake. “’S’all right, pretty girl. I’m thinkin’ people underestimate you, too, aye?”
He certainly had. He’d forgotten that in spite of that human half, she was Sídhe. She was going to fight back—that was instinct. Still holding her tight, he plucked his phone out of his jeans’ pocket and woke up the display screen.
Siobhan answered her phone on the second ring. “How’d it go?”
“Good and bad. I need a couple of pairs of hands.”
“What happened?”
“Would seem that Mum’s auxiliary guards are out and about and seem to know about Simone.”
Simone tried to pull back, but his grip was too tight.
“Royal guards out and about? But she only sends them out on bounties.”
“Yep.”
“And you’re sure they’re hers?”
“I know them by name, as do you.”
“And you handled them on your own? Where was the fucktwat you went after?”
Heath rubbed Simone’s back some more and murmured some soothing nonsense syllables. “Oh, he’s in the backseat of the rental car. We’re sitting on the hood right now. We were going to fly him out to you so you and the girls could question him, but that doesn’t seem like such a good plan at the moment.”
“I would imagine not. Where are the guards? Did they run when you made them out?”
“No, they’re here on the ground. One is unconscious and the other probably wishes he were.”
“You are going to be so bloody wiped out tomorrow. Not a good idea to be pushing that much energy around.”
“Oh, I only fought one. Simone beat the shit out of the other.”
“Simone did?”
“Yep. She might even have a bit of blood under her nails right now. I suppose you can tamp it down all you want, but eventually, the scary fairy comes out.”
Simone sobbed.
“It’s okay, love.”
“I’m a fairy brute.”
“No, you’re not, my dear. It was just self defense.” And if Mum really knew about her, Simone would likely be doing a lot more of it.
“Can you get them to a hotel and keep them down for a bit?” Siobhan asked.
“I believe so.”
“Then I’ll see if Matt can tweak that energy of his to let me out of here. I’ll bring Caryl and Daryn, too.”
“The guys are going to trash my motel,” Simone said on a sob. She could probably hear Siobhan clear as day.
He rubbed her back some more, kissed her forehead. “Yes. They likely will. Can’t really leave young Sídhe men unsupervised. We’re kind of like frat boys when left up to our own devices.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Poor Simone,” Siobhan said and disconnected.
Chapter 14
Simone huddled in a chair in the corner of the large, decadent hotel suite and tucked her chin against her knees, watching the Sídhe
at work.
“I’d venture to guess that this is a first,” Siobhan said. She and Caryl leaned against the wall near the sofa and stared at the three bound, gagged fairies. Two fairies and a quarter-fairy fucktwat, anyway.
Daryn, leaning against the half-wall between the living and dining spaces nodded sagely. “I think it is. For as long as Caryl and I have been running with Heath, I can’t remember ever being in a scenario quite like this one.”
Heath, sitting on the ottoman in front of Simone, turned around to face her. “I think she’s referring to the accommodations.”
“Oh.”
They were nice accommodations. Classy. High-end. Expensive. The cost hadn’t seemed to affect Heath one way or another, but Simone had certainly cringed when she heard the per-night total. The hotel charged about three times what she did per night during peak season, and they were in freaking Ohio. No beach for a thousand miles, probably. It was pricey, but they’d needed the space, and the clerk didn’t seem to mind that Heath couldn’t estimate when they’d be checking out. Simone suspected that compliance had more to do with his copious sex appeal than good customer service, though. Not that she was the jealous type at all.
Heath raised one of those dark eyebrows. “Why are you making that face, love?”
“What face?”
“The kill Heath face. I’ve come to prefer the fuck Heath face.” He said the second half in a whisper, and it took a moment for the words to register in her.
“You had your chance,” she whispered back.
“Aye. And I don’t regret not taking it. There’ll be more chances.”
“Are you so sure about that?”
“You’re my wife.”
He said it as if it were the answer to everything, and she wondered if she should just believe him.
Her stomach let out a grumble she hoped he didn’t hear, but sure enough, he turned. “You must be famished. Want to call up for some room service?”
Siobhan’s fist connected with the side of one of the guards’ heads, sending him toppling over to his buddy.
The blood drained from Simone’s head, and she swallowed hard. Siobhan didn’t even seem worked up over it. She knelt beside the sofa, staring at her prisoners. “Try again, shit stain,” she said.
Heath clasped Simone’s hand. “Or perhaps we’ll head to the restaurant on the top floor.”
“You’re not really dressed for it,” Caryn said on the tail end of a yawn. Apparently, the situation at hand was par for the course in her world. Totally boring.
Heath looked down at his street clothes and shrugged. “I guess we’re not. How about the sports bar on the first floor?”
The sports bar would probably be crowded and loud, not intimate and romantic. Good. “I could probably swallow down a burger or something,” she said.
“Take your time.” Siobhan cracked each of her knuckles and started over again at the first one. “These three might need some loosening up.”
Yikes.
— —
Nothing ever went quite as planned in Simone’s world, so she really should have expected the restaurant to be damned near empty and for them to have their pick of tables. Naturally, Heath guided her into a corner booth way in the back that was so dim she could barely read the menu print.
Her eyes crossed at the expanse of offerings. She hadn’t exactly been spoiled for choice in the past six years, and she’d long since memorized the menus of the couple of restaurants she could actually get to from the motel.
“You look confused.”
She set down the menu and rubbed her eyes. “I want everything.”
“That doesn’t sound like much of a problem.”
“Perhaps not to a fairy. There seemed to be a running gag back at Norseton that the Sídhe have bottomless stomachs.”
“No, that’s Hobbits. We do have faster-than-average metabolisms, but most of the time we eat because we enjoy food and not because we’re hungry.”
“You love eating?” She regretted the words the moment they slipped through her lips.
“You should know the answer to that already. I think I already demonstrated to you that I did.”
Oh, he had. She pushed her thighs together and stifled a groan.
The waitress swung by with her tablet. “What’ll you have?”
“Blue cheese burger, I guess.” Heath nudged the menu toward the waitress and looked at Simone.
Shit. She needed more time. A burger sounded good, but so did that spicy fried chicken sandwich. And the tuna melt. And—
“Start her with the chili,” Heath said. “By the time she’s done with that, she might be ready for a chicken sandwich. Chips, not fries.”
The waitress tottered off without waiting for confirmation.
Simone glared at him.
He tented his fingers. “Well?”
“It’ll do.” Chili sounded marvelous. She hadn’t even made it to that part of the menu.
“You looked like you needed some help.”
“Maybe I don’t like spicy things. Or chips.”
“But, you do.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I guessed. I assume I was right.”
“You guessed based on what? You don’t know me well enough to be able to form suppositions about my dietary preferences.”
“I saw what was inside your fridge, and in every place we’ve eaten at since I spirited you away from your motel, you’ve picked spicy.”
Oh. “Okay. So, you’re observant.”
“More than that. Being observant is my job as a hunter. Being considerate is my job as your husband.”
“I wish you’d stop saying that word.”
“Why? Every time I make mention of our relationship status, your energy discombobulates. You’re fighting against it. Can’t digest it. Perhaps if you just got out of its way and let it settle in, it wouldn’t be so bad.”
She sighed and pulled her water glass closer. “I was thinking that earlier.”
“What would make it easier for you, love? You’re really not that adverse to being married to me, are you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t say, exactly, that you’re growing on me.”
He scoffed.
“I think this is…just too much to process all at once.”
“Well, let’s run down the list.” He counted off on his fingers. “You found out you’re half-Sídhe and a key. You learned you have a fated mate.”
“And a fairy prince mate, at that.”
“Aye. You got temporary respite from your curse thanks to your family suddenly doubling in size. You’re likely a bit jarred from having a minor attraction to my Second that I don’t seem particularly upset about.”
True. She did believe she needed to feel a little more guilty about that.
“You learned you have a scary self defense reflex, even for a fairy, which I’m not even sure is typical for keys, or if you get that from your other Sídhe grandparent.”
“Uh—speaking of her, where is she, exactly? I think Fergus referred to her indirectly, but I was so overwhelmed at the time I probably didn’t catch what he meant. Is she alive?”
“Aye. She was probably at home.”
“Didn’t want to say hi, huh?” Simone couldn’t help but to feel bruised. She was a decent person. Why was her family so keen on running from her?
“I imagine that might have been quite difficult for her. She put herself in a deep sleep right after Katie flew the coop.”
“A deep sleep? What do you mean?”
“Some fairies can do it. Falling into a self-induced coma is easy enough, but you’ve got to have a hell of a lot of incentive to come out of one. Usually, a person who does it doesn’t come out until whatever it was that bothered them in the first place ceases to be a problem.”
“And her problem is that she was depressed about my mother leaving?”
“Right. So she likely wouldn’t wake up until Katie returned.”
“That’s insane. How could she just shut herself from reality like that? As if she didn’t have anything to live for?”
“Maybe that’s exactly how she felt. The Sídhe as a whole aren’t particularly fecund, so mothers are generally quite enamored of their children.”
“That doesn’t seem to be the case with your mother.”
“It isn’t. Trust me when I say she’s not typical.”
Simone felt awful for him if what he was saying was true. Her mother had been flighty, yes, but she’d doted on Simone. Tried to give her everything she needed and most of what she wanted—within reason. She’d grown up thinking that all mothers were like that. Later on, she’d learned otherwise, of course.
She reached across the tabletop and gave his hand a gentle nudge. “I’m sorry. You’d think with you being the heir apparent, she’d care a little more.” She began to pull back her hand, but he clasped it in both of his and skimmed his thumbs along the back.
“She’d slit my throat, and Siobhan’s, too, if she were in a certain mood and we’d gotten too close.”
“That’s self-defeating. She’d leave herself without an heir.”
“I think she often believes she’s invincible and immortal and doesn’t need an heir.”
“And what does your father think?”
“My father is pussywhipped. He doesn’t do much thinking at all.” He squeezed her hands. “Don’t make that face. I like looking upon your natural splendor too much for you to go and contort your features like that.”
She relaxed her face without thinking. Apparently her subconscious gave a shit what he thought. She didn’t actually want him to think she was ugly.
“Much prettier.”
“Shush.”
“It’s truth. And the thing about my father is also candid truth, but a damned shame. With the amount of power he has, you’d think he’d throw his weight around a little more, but he just…lets her do as she wishes. I often wonder what The Fates were thinking when they put the two of them together.”
“Perhaps their end goal isn’t apparent just yet.”
He grimaced. Seemed to really consider it, judging by his long pause as he stared at his hands. “You could be right, though I can’t imagine him changing much after a thousand years of marriage.”