by Sarra Cannon
“Oh, hush. I was just making an observation.”
He pushed up an incredulous eyebrow. “Not going to rough me up?”
“No. And you don’t seem particularly frightened of the idea of me giving you a thrashing, either. I can at least make the other guys flinch.”
He shrugged. “I’m used to women bruising me. If it’s not a real fight, I try to enjoy it.”
“Oh.”
One of those smarmy fairy grins inched across his face.
“Oh my. I don’t know how many more Sídhe sexual confessions I can take from y’all. My mind boggles. And really. I don’t get mad over stupid shit. Plus, I never said I didn’t believe in fated mates.” Or at least, she didn’t think she had. Sounded like something she’d say, though. “I was skeptical that I had one.” Hell, she was coming around to it. Maybe a little more than that. She wouldn’t have done better than Heath on her own, and she knew it. He was a catch, murderous fae compulsions aside. And, hell, maybe she even liked the idea of being a princess a little. Who got to be a princess nowadays? No one. Absofuckinglutely no one.
“Had she been Sídhe, she’d know as well. I wouldn’t have to court her.”
“Not only are you going to have to court her, bud, but you need to be a bit more chill for the time being.”
“Chill?”
“Yeah. You know. Make her fall so hard for you that when she finds out you’re a weirdo, she’ll love you too much to care.”
“Is that how you feel about Prince Heath?”
“Mind your business.”
He groaned, pushed back his chair, and stood. “I hope they left me some shrimp.”
Just from peering over at the chafing table, Simone didn’t think that was a possibility.
Zenia returned, tray laden with water glasses and a basket of hushpuppies, when Sully skulked off. “What’s his deal?” she whispered.
“Whose?”
“Don’t play dumb.”
Simone looked around the dining room. “There are eight men you could be referring to. I need you to be a little more specific.”
“The one with the studded face.”
Simone snorted. Sully didn’t have that many piercings. Well, actually she didn’t know, but given his recent admission, she suspected he probably liked pain enough to have metal in some pretty imaginative places. “His name is Sully.”
As if he’d heard his name from across the room, the Sídhe in question turned with his plate.
Simone gave him a little dismissive wave.
He shrugged after a moment and went back to piling on food.
“What else?” Zenia whispered.
“Why?”
“Come on! Is he single?”
“Yes.”
“Straight?”
Simone cringed. Heath and Thom had explained fairies didn’t have sexual orientations. More often than not, they paired off one male to one female, but that seemed to have more to do with biological needs than physical attraction. “I guess? I mean…probably. I guess.”
She watched Zenia’s face for any hint of revulsion at her half-assed answer. She should have known better. Zenia seemed entirely unaffected. “How old is he?”
“Um. Old enough.” She wasn’t exactly sure how old he was, only that he was older than Perry and younger than Thom. That put him anywhere between seventy and a hundred-fifty.
“Any baggage? Baby momma drama?”
“I have no idea. I haven’t really had a getting-to-know-you chat with him.” Maybe she should learn something about him beyond his kinks. Hell, maybe she should sit down with everyone in the crew and see what they were about. She’d been more or less avoiding most of them since they’d shown up. She was kind of failing at the princess thing. “Uh. Been busy.”
“I bet you have, having a new husband and all. Introduce me, why don’t ya?”
“Sure. So…why do you like that one and not one of the other two?”
Simone suspected that even with Zenia being non-Sídhe, the fated attraction would work in both directions even if Zenia couldn’t recognize what it was.
Zenia shrugged. “Dunno. He just floats my boat, and he kind of looks hard to break.”
Simone nearly choked on her own spit. Zenia didn’t seem to notice her distress. She was too busy staring at Sully.
“What did you say these guys did for a living?”
“I didn’t say,” Simone muttered. “Hey, is my food ready?” She was going to need a moment to regroup, or she was going to start cackling like a madwoman and embarrassing herself in front of the locals.
“I’ll go check. Don’t think you’re off the hook.”
Zenia started for the kitchen and muttered, “Fuck,” when an after-church group pushed through the swinging doors. They would keep her busy for a while. That was probably a good thing both for Simone and Sully. Sully needed to rein himself in, and Simone needed to figure out how exactly how to help her friends come to grips with their new fairy stalkers. Hopefully, their learning curves would be smoother than her own.
Chapter 20
Heath tucked his phone into his vest pocket and waved Siobhan over to his motorcycle. They’d stopped near the Virginia-North Carolina state line—after disposing of a useless fairy guard then looping through Norfolk to collect Thom on his bike from the airport—and had gassed up their rides. They were waiting on Thom now, whom was annoying the guy at the gas station cubicle window by insisting he accept his fifty-dollar bill as payment. Apparently, the guy didn’t believe it was legit. It was too crisp.
“What’s up?” Siobhan asked.
“Tell me I’m wrong for wanting to slit Mum’s throat.”
“I can’t tell you that, but tell me what happened.”
“I got a message from Mum’s number one sycophant.”
Siobhan’s shoulders fell and eyes rolled. “What’d he want?”
“To pass on a message from Mum. I guess she can’t even manage her own phone to deal with her children now.”
“She never talks to me, anyway, so if were snubbed I wouldn’t have noticed. What’d she tell him to tell you?”
“She wanted to make a deal.”
“With you? What sort?”
“Not just with me, but with the crew in general. I think she realized that by losing me to marriage, she’d lose the fealty of the crew as well. So, her threat came in two parts.”
“Who’s threatening whom?” Thom walked over tucking his wallet into his jacket pocket. The guy looked tired, which was unusual for Thom. The fae in general didn’t need as much rest as their human counterparts, so either he hadn’t slept in days or something serious was stressing him.
Heath tapped into his energy for a taste, just to check that all was well. It was the same, not even a smudge. That meant…
Heath narrowed his eyes at him. “You didn’t touch your mates?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Too busy, for one thing. For another thing, Nadia is oddly skittish in my company, even more so than your princess was with you.”
“Do you want me to ask Oliver what’s up?”
“You can ask him, but Dad probably doesn’t know.” Matt’s voice came in a muffle beneath his helmet. He leaned over back of Siobhan’s bike with his elbows pressed to the seat. Though he could ride solo in a pinch and had ridden his father’s bike plenty, he hadn’t gotten licensed yet, and being that the crew was somewhat stationary for the first time in twenty years, doing so wasn’t pressing. They’d only chosen motorcycles at all so they could easily split up when they needed to. They hadn’t intended for it to become a lifestyle. “If you want information, you have to get it directly from Tess since Nadia’s her right hand.”
Siobhan rocked back on her heels. “I don’t need to ask Contessa. I was in the car when there was a discussion about it. You know, back when Caryl and I were doing guard duty for Contessa a few months ago.”
“Discussion about what?” Thom asked. “Me?”
&
nbsp; Siobhan made a waffling gesture. “I’m sworn to secrecy. You know how it goes.”
Thom grunted. Of course he knew. The fae kept secrets as well as they kept oaths and revered curses. “Can you at least tell me if I should take it personally?”
“No more than she should take personally your little…problem.” She pointed to his crotch. “But she will since you can’t tell her you’re cursed.”
Matt scoffed. “What woman wouldn’t take that personally?”
Thom cut him a nasty side-eye, and looked back to Heath. “Are we heading straight to the motel?”
“Yes. I was just trying to make sense of this message I got from Mum’s assistant.” He handed the phone over to Thom and let him scan the text message tome.
“That’s pretty low, even for Rhiannon.” He handed the phone over to Siobhan who had her hand held out for it.
“What’d she say?” Matt asked.
Heath fitted his helmet onto his head but left the visor up. “Veiled threat, you know what I mean. Saying it would be a damned shame if anything happened to Fergus and perhaps Simone should come meet with her to discuss his ongoing safety.”
“That’s really fucking gross.” Siobhan thrust the phone back at Heath and eased around to her own bike. “The woman would cut off her nose to spite her face. Fergus is a key, and the only functioning one near her in the realm at the moment, probably. He’s the only reason she can skip around from place to place as easily as she does. Without him, she’d have to travel exposed by land more often, and even she’s not that stupid. He’s the only one who can open up tunnels wide enough for those ghastly Hummers she travels in. I’d imagine she’s got quite a few enemies who’d love to take potshots at her as she passed by if she had to travel on legitimate roadways.”
Mum cutting off her nose to spite her face wouldn’t be a new strategy for her. After all, she’d kill her own heirs if she thought they’d stand in the way of her continuing reign.
“How did she find out the connection between Fergus and Simone, though?” Matt asked.
It was a good question. He was still young enough that he asked questions and didn’t take anything for granted. Eventually, cynicism would set in and he would stop asking.
“It was all just a matter of time,” Heath said.
Thom grunted again. “The same way Simone bends the ear of Hestia and the Afótama have the favor of Gefjon, I image there’s some fu—”
Siobhan slapped the back of his head. “Go on and court yourself another curse, you gobshite. Watch your tongue.”
Thom growled and gave his handlebars a tight squeeze. “Aye.” He looked to Matt. “There’s likely some god or goddess who still meddles in the affairs of the Sídhe, though most have turned their backs on us by now. Possibly someone who works in opposition to Hestia or whom has the same job in a different pantheon.”
So many fucking minor gods to keep up with. Greek and Roman. Norse. Celtic and so on. Some pantheons overlapped with gods and goddesses who went by different names in different places, but there were always a few outliers that only belonged to one group. They could waste time making lists and trying to sort out who it was, but precision really didn’t matter.
“Do you really think she’d do anything to Fergus?” Siobhan asked.
“I think she would try, operating under the assumption that someone would try to stop her, and if they fail and harm comes to him, she’d blame everyone but herself for the outcome.”
“The woman is freakin’ deranged,” Matt said.
“Aye.” Heath tossed his leg over his bike and let down his visor. And like an idiot, he’d left his princess’s side assuming she’d be safe with his crew around. If Mum really wanted to do harm to Simone, she’d find a way. He needed to stop thinking in hand-to-hand fighting terms. Mum would probably even stand back and try to take out Simone, him, Siobhan, and the entire crew with one strike, if she were pissy enough. That’s what they needed to be concerned about. Fergus had fought his own battles for a long time. He’d have to continue doing so for a while longer.
— —
Heath couldn’t believe it, but Simone seemed to slump with relief when he, Thom, Siobhan, and Matt pulled into the motel’s asphalt lot. She did miss him—or at least had spared him some concern—and the thought brought a smile to his face. She was standing in the office doorway, winter coat zipped up all the way to her nose, chatting with the general contractor whom, despite the frigid temperatures, was wearing shorts.
North Carolinians were an odd bunch.
Heath scooped her into an embrace and nuzzled the top of her head, ignoring the contractor’s curious stare.
“Miss me?” Heath asked.
She squirmed against him and cleared her throat. “Nope.”
“Oh, are we still playing that cat and mouse game? Fine.” He turned his gaze to the contractor. “Do you need a check or something? I haven’t seen my wife in a few days. I’m sure you understand.”
“Nope, we’re all set on money for the moment. What we’re waiting on is permits for the new structures. It’s not like the folks at the planning commission have a whole hell of a lot to do this time of year, so why they’re dragging their feet, I’ll never know.”
Caryn poked her head out of the office and took a bite of what looked like a Snickers bar. “Would it help for us to go down there and talk to them?”
The contractor raked his gaze down her body. “Might could.”
She rolled her eyes and vanished behind the wall.
He shrugged. “Just a waiting game. We can continue the interior work on the old section for the time being. Crew’s on break right now. They’ll be back after lunch and will work through five. They appreciate the work.”
Simone’s turn to shrug. “Happy to give it to them.”
The contractor headed to his truck. Heath turned Simone around in his arms and tipped her chin up to him. “I’ll try once more. Did you miss me?”
“Does it matter?”
“I’d say so, but I’m just a man.”
“Hardly just a man,” she muttered against his chest.
Caryn popped back over and leaned against the doorframe. “We need to figure out sleeping arrangements since half the rooms are uninhabitable at the moment. We’ve gotten used to sleeping in beds and don’t particularly relish the thought of sleeping outside, especially not in this wind.”
“You’re growing soft.”
Caryn took another bite of her candy bar. “Aye. Most would say that’s a good thing.”
“Any other mate pairings happen while I was away?”
“Just the two,” Simone said. He opened his duster and pulled her inside against his shirt. He heard her little exhalation. Felt her fingertips skimming his torso.
“Not very typical, is it?” Caryn asked. “For them to happen in such close a time period, I mean. First there was Thom when he met Nadia—”
“Not quite true. He met Jeff first years ago, remember? We trashed his bar out in Fallon a time or two while waiting for Oliver to do maintenance on our bikes.”
“Ah. Thom never said anything. Didn’t even flinch.”
“He knew it was an incomplete pairing.”
“What does that mean?” came Simone’s muffled voice.
He opened his jacket a bit and looked down at her head. “Like I told you before. We know when we find the person who’s it. Indescribable fairy thing. We also know when a pairing isn’t enough. Thom didn’t know why until recently, though. We think it has more to do with Nadia than Thom. Afótama power is an interesting blend of witch magic and other things we don’t have names for. She probably needs two partners. Thom’s just along for the ride.” He closed the jacket again. “So, we’ve got, what, five rooms?”
Caryn nodded. “And guests in two of them—if you count Dasha as one—and we’re using one to house our prisoners, which leaves us two.”
“Shit.” Quarters were going to be tight.
“Some of us could head to the Holi
day Inn, I suppose.”
He grimaced. “I think it would be a better idea if we stuck close for the time being.”
She mouthed, “Why?” and cut her gaze to the lump inside leather that was Simone.
He swallowed, and mouthed back, “Ask Siobhan.”
She nodded and took another bite of her candy bar. “Okay, so Thom with Nadia, then, you with Simone, then we have Ethan and Sully. It’s either a hell of a pattern, or The Fates are working overtime to push those chess pieces around.”
Simone popped out.
“Come back, love. You’re keeping my chest warm.” Heath folded her back in.
“What do you mean by chess pieces?”
“Just statistics,” Caryn said. “Because of our long-livedness, it’s less likely than with humans that a group of friends would pair off at around the same time. It’s not like we’re all in our twenties and feeling the itch to settle down. We wait on our mates, and we never know when they’re going to crop up. So, for four to happen in a short time period is suspicious.”
“What benefit would there be to you all being paired off?”
“You’re so smart. I love you,” Heath said.
Simone tensed against him. His words had done that. “Don’t make it a big deal. It’s simple truth.” Of course he loved her. She was his. Why wouldn’t he? Humans always complicated things that were so simple. So evident, if they were to just listen inwardly.
She didn’t respond, but he didn’t expect her to. Not yet.
Caryn grinned knowingly and wadded up her candy wrapper. “Mated fae tend to be more stable, both in terms of magic and personality.”
“I imagine that’s a good thing.”
“Crucial, the older we get. But, I think like you do. Something else is in play. I’d bet my bike on it, and I don’t think it’s H-E-S cough cough T-I-A this time.”
Heath chuckled at her blatant attempt at breaking up the goddess’s name. “Nor do I. All right, let’s figure this out. We can do a split, men in one room, women in the other, but it’s going to be tighter than a Speedo on a fat man.”