It didn't matter that she couldn't see him; she could hear the rueful grin in his voice. "That mark you gave me feels a hell of a lot like your doing, Tobias."
His hands shifted, now ringing the borders of the mark. "The mark is, but the reason it's there isn't." She kept silent, and with a sigh, he continued. "I don't know how much you know about Lupine mating, and I don't know how well I can explain it to you. There aren't a whole lot of philosophers among our kind. Some things just come down to instinct."
She bit back the urge to voice a caustic agreement on that score.
"I can't tell you why it happens, or even how. But every Lupine knows when it does. It's like the first change, the first time I ever shifted. I just… knew. You smelled sweeter than anything I'd ever sniffed and you tasted better, too. And when I finally got inside you it was like puzzle pieces locking together. We just fit, like we were meant to. That's how it happens. Lupines find the one perfect mate for them and they seize it. There was no way in hell I could have stopped it. Not even if I'd wanted to."
"What if I had wanted to?"
He barked a laugh. "It might have been fun to watch you try, but it wouldn't have worked. Like I said, neither of us got a choice. Lupines don't pick their mates. Fate picks them for us."
She frowned and jerked her shoulder. "That's ridiculous. Aren't you mortals the ones who are always going on about free will and self-determination? Goddess, it's all any of you ever talked about for a few centuries."
"Yeah. Those weren't Lupines," he snorted. "Or if they were, they were talking about self-determining where to go for dinner, not about mates. I don't know why it happens, Princess, but I know that when Lupines mate, it's because Fate decided they should."
"But I'm not Lupine, and I didn't decide on anything."
"I noticed." His hand stroked over her bare skin, as smooth and hairless as his was rough and dappled with fur. "That's where this came in." He pressed a kiss to the mark on her neck.
Her eyes opened enough to scowl at him. "What does that mean?"
"The mate mark. It's there to prove you belong to me."
"How Neanderthal." She rolled her eyes. "I didn't see one on Missy's neck, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out she belongs to Graham."
"She's belonged to him for five years now, and I think the fact that she's borne him two sons proves the same thing. The mark doesn't last forever, anyway. And some mates never get them, but I know for a fact she did."
"How do some of us get so lucky?"
"The ones who need proof get marked." He took her hand, toyed with her fingers. "When two Lupines mate, usually no one gets marked. There's no need. We all know what's happening, so proof becomes redundant. But if one of the mates is reluctant or unwilling, the other marks her."
"What? Like a cattle brand? What if the reluctant mate has a good reason to be reluctant? What if she doesn't like the jerk who marked her? Is she forced to stay with him?"
"Of course not. There's no need to force her."
Her scowl deepened. "So she just leaves with a semipermanent hickey on her neck? No harm, no foul?"
"No. No one leaves." He shook his head impatiently. "The mating is Fated. Fate knows the two mates belong together, that no one else will ever suit either of them."
"No one leaves? Ever? In all of Lupine history?"
"Well, sure, it's happened, but those are the stories we all hear about as cautionary tales when we're growing up. They all end up miserable. Why would anyone leave their perfect partner?"
"A lot of words come to my mind when I'm with you, Tobias Walker, but let me make it clear that 'perfect' is not one of them."
"Not to your mind maybe. But apparently Fate doesn't agree."
She sighed and turned to face him. His skull was much too thick to have this conversation any other way. "Walker, I almost get what you're saying. Really. From what you're telling me, it's like magic. Fate casts a spell, and two people are bound by it, one of whom may or may not get bitten for her trouble. Okay, fine. If that's the way it works for your people, good for you. But I'm not one of your people."
Walker frowned. "Why should that matter? I'm not one of your people, but that doesn't seem to stop you from charging up like a car battery hooked to jumper cables every time I touch you."
"That's not about you. It's just the way things happen."
"Exactly."
She groaned in frustration and tried to sit up, but he draped a heavy arm across her waist to pin her in place. "Walker, listen to me for half a second, would you? This is impossible. It isn't going to work. For the Goddess's sake, we're not even the same species!"
He rolled his eyes. "Is that what has your panties in a twist? For God's sake, Fi, what couple have you met around here so far that is of the same species? Rafe and Tess? He's Feline—a frickin' werejaguar—and I know it's hard to believe, but she's human, you know."
"She's a witch."
"Which is what we call human with magical abilities, to distinguish them from the ones without magical abilities. Graham is Lupine, but Missy's about as human as you can get. Before they mated, she taught kindergarten!"
Fiona frowned. "That's not the poi—"
"You want a few more? Fine." His temper had started to rise again, but his touch stayed gentle, if implacable. "The guth of the Black Glen Clan from Ireland just paid us a visit a couple of months ago, and guess who he's mated to? A Foxwoman. Fiona, it happens all the time."
"Not with Fae it doesn't." She pushed at his arm and gritted her teeth when he refused to budge. "Will you let me up, damn it? I can't yell at you when you have me pinned to a bed."
"Really? Now, I'm going to remember that handy little fact." He didn't let her go, but he did let her sit up. Then he yanked her right back down into his lap and wrapped his arms around her even tighter than before.
Her eyes narrowed. "That's not what I meant, fur face."
"Tough."
She gave his arms a few ineffectual tugs before giving up with a sigh and letting her head fall back onto his shoulder. She didn't want to argue, didn't have the energy for it, but somehow she had to make him understand that at least one of them had to maintain their sanity about this. "I'm telling you, this just won't work. It's great if Lupines can mate and have successful relationships with other kinds of mortals, whether they're humans or shape-shifting aardvarks. I'm happy for you."
"But?"
"But I'm not mortal. Fae don't mate with mortals, Walker. I mean, how could we? We're not even supposed to leave our own borders. I'm not supposed to be here."
"But you are." He squeezed her gently to cut off her protest. "Have you ever heard of a sidhe named Luc MacAnu?"
Fiona looked at him, confused. "Lucifer? Captain of the Queen's Guard?" Walker nodded. "Of course I've heard of him. He was the commander of my aunt's personal army from the time I was a little girl."
"And where is he now?"
She shrugged. "I'm not sure. I know he resigned his commission a short while ago, but it was during one of my obligatory visits to the Unseelie Court. By the time I got back and heard about it, he was already gone." She shook her head. "What in the world does that have to do with us?"
"Well, it was big news in the Council of Others when the Fae warrior Mab sent to New York to find her nephew and return him to Faerie ended up falling in love with one of the closest friends of the luna of the Silverback Clan."
"I don't know what you're—"
"The human friend."
Her jaw clicked shut.
"It turned out that Luc wasn't thinking about mortality or immortality when he looked at Corinne D' Alessandro. He only thought about having her. So he found a way to make it happen."
Fiona steeled herself against temptation. "That's lovely for them, Walker, but I'm not Lucifer MacAnu of the Queen's Guard and you're not a naive young human woman."
"Glad you noticed."
He grinned and leaned forward to nuzzle her ear. She had to grit her teeth to keep from melti
ng. It still didn't seem possible that he could affect her so deeply so fast. It shouldn't have been possible.
She tried one last time to squirm out of his arms, and he sighed. Half a second later, she found herself sprawled back against the pillows with a stubborn and stubbled werewolf draped half over her to keep her in place.
"Sweetheart, I can see where this might all seem a little surreal to you." She snorted with laughter, but he ignored it and watched her steadily, his expression both resolved and tender. "It's happened pretty quickly, and you haven't been expecting it for most of your life like I have. But that doesn't make it any less real."
"It can't be."
"It is." He leaned down to brush a soft, lingering kiss against her lips. "I can understand if you're not ready to deal with it right this second. There's a lot of other stuff going on right now, so I'll drop it. But Princess, this isn't going to go away. Eventually, you're going to have to deal with the fact that you belong to me. And I belong to you."
She stared up at him, feeling her heart clench inside her chest and remembering what it had felt like when he'd buried himself inside her with his mouth on the mark of their bond. Her entire world had changed in that moment, and no matter how desperately she wanted to deny the truth, she knew she couldn't go back to the way things had been. They would never be the same.
She would never be the same.
But that didn't mean he could get away with acting like a jackass.
She took a deep breath and told herself to be firm, but when she spoke, she could hear in her voice the echoes of the soft, unfamiliar emotion currently stirring in her chest. "I'm not certain I understand all of this, but if it's true—" She held up a hand to stop his interruption. "If it's true, it's going to take adjustment on both our parts. I meant it when I said I can understand your protective instincts, Walker, but you have to understand that I mean it when I say I won't be dictated to. When you're concerned for my safety, tell me. But don't order me around. It won't work, and I won't appreciate it."
He met her gaze for a long moment before he gave a brief nod. "I'll try, Princess, but I can't promise anything. These are instincts we're talking about. I can't make them go away."
She looked up into those warm golden eyes and let herself drown in them, feeling the exhaustion of physical exertion and emotional stress beginning to take their toll. Her muscles relaxed, sinking deeper into the mattress, softening beneath his in inevitable welcome.
Her hands slid off his shoulders, down his arms to twine her fingers with hers. "Nothing has ever been as complicated as this, mo fáell," she whispered, reaching up for another kiss, "but nothing simple has ever touched my heart."
And as their lips touched, her heart melted.
* * *
CHAPTER 18
It wasn't so much the low buzzing sound that woke Fiona as the tiny footsteps dancing up and down her spine. Was that a fox-trot?
Burrowing her head deeper into the pillows, she shrugged her shoulders and tried to slip back into sleep. Given how little of it she'd gotten last night, it should have been easy. But the fox-trot turned into a merengue, and she groaned into the pillowcase.
A warm wall of muscle stirred beside her, shaking the bed and rumbling low and sleepy in the dimly lit room. "D'you have a cat? I think it wants to go out."
Burrowed deep in the hollow she'd made in the pillow, Fiona waited for his sleepy murmur to register as actual language. Then she frowned. "A cat? We're at your apartment."
She heard a groan and a creak and felt the bed shift to the right as Walker rolled over. Turning her head to the side, she forced her eyelids open and met his blurry gaze.
"I don't have a cat."
"Then what exactly is doing a cha-cha between my shoulder blades?"
"If I tell you, will you tell me what's tangoing between mine?"
"Your Highness!"
Startled by the high, familiar voice, Fiona flipped onto her back and glared in the direction of the interruption. The small figure that had been standing astride her spine hovered just above her, gossamer wings flapping.
"Babbage? What in the Lady's name are you doing here?"
The pixie fluttered and flitted and wrung his tiny hands together in worry. "Your Highness, I knew it was a bad idea for you to visit this place. Oh, what is your aunt going to say?"
Eyes wide, Walker pushed himself into a sitting position and dislodged his own fleet-footed visitor.
Squick tumbled head over feet down the Lupine's torso, landing somewhere near the left knee and jumping to his feet instantly. He shook his head as if to clear it and swept Fiona a quick bow. "I telled him we shouldn't come, Miss Fiona, but the pixie insisting. I couldn't stop him."
Walker looked at Fiona and scowled. "What the hell are these?"
"Pests."
Still fluttering, Babbage lowered himself to the edge of the mattress and cast disapproving glances at Fiona and Walker. "Your Highness, would you like us to remove this… this… mongrel from your presence?"
Walker snarled at the pixie. Reaching down, Walker grabbed the sheet from where it had bunched at the foot of the bed and yanked it up to Fiona's chin. "The only thing being removed around here is going to be those wings of yours, buddy, so watch yourself."
Fiona hadn't bothered to cover herself because (1) the Fae really weren't fazed by nudity, considering how much of the population of Faerie didn't even own clothing, and (2) Walker had seen her naked almost more than he'd seen her clothed and the only other folk in the room were Babbage and Squick. Hiding her body from them would be like hiding her body from Walker's fictional pet cat. What would be the point?
Judging by the look on Walker's face, though, he wanted her to stay covered. Stifling a sigh, she tucked the sheet up under her arms, made sure nothing he might consider vital was hanging out, and resumed glaring at their uninvited guests. "Okay, someone explain what the hell you two are doing here." She stopped and frowned. "And how you got here. I tried the gate, and it was sealed."
Both began talking at once.
"Oh, Your Highness," Babbage cried, "how my heart stopped when I realized the gate you had used to travel to this primitive land was blocked! I nearly gave in to my despair."
"He cried like a little girlie nymphs, miss! Moaned and wailing! I thinked my ears was bursted. But then I remembers to tried the gate that don't come here, and here we is!"
"It was horrible, Princess Fiona. The imp dragged me into a barren wasteland of a plane, populated by terrible, fierce creatures who would gladly have feasted on our flesh."
"Feast? Your heart not even enough for a midnight snacks. Besides, they wasn't terrible. They was rock elementals. All they eats were dirt."
"We had to come, Your Highness! I nearly flew into the castle wall when I looked into Her Majesty's scrying bowl and saw you calling for help. I said to myself, 'Babbage, you felt all along that this foolhardy trip would come to no good,' and so it turned out—"
Fiona held up a hand to silence them. They ignored it.
"… screamed like a dryads in a forest fire, he did. It near maked my horns curls!"
She cleared her throat. "Guys, really—"
"… saw you trapped in a small room surrounded by mortals, and I knew something had to be amiss. So I told myself, 'Babbage, old fellow, the princess needs us, and it doesn't matter how the odds fall against us—'"
"Babbage. Squick. Really, if you'd just—"
" '—or what terrible creatures lie in wait to tear us limb from limb and to rend our wings from our backs, if Her Highness requires aid, then aid she will get.' That's just want I said, and—"
"Will you shut the hell up for ONE BLESSED MINUTE?!"
Fiona's scream pierced the chatter and made her head, which had already begun to pound, threaten to split in two like an overripe melon. They shut up, though, so that was saying something.
Making a sound of disgust, Walker rose from the bed and stalked toward the bathroom. Fiona scowled at his back. "Where are yo
u going?"
"To get a bottle of aspirin," he tossed over his shoulder, "and maybe a fifth of vodka. Want anything?"
"Yeah," she muttered, "a poke in the eye with a sharp stick."
Ever the optimist, Babbage tried again. "Your Highness—"
Seeing the look of aggravation on the princess's face, Squick did the intelligent thing—for once—and raised his little red hand.
Fiona groaned. "Yes, Squick?"
"Miss Fiona, I gots to tell you that we was only thinking you needs us. We meant good."
"Meant well, Squick."
"Yeah. That's what I says. There we was, minding we own business, practicing new scary faces in the queen's scrying bowl, when we sawed our princess in the waters! We knowed you was here, and we knowed the queen's bowl can see any other magicky seeing stuff, and then the waters in the bowl shotted up like the nereids was having a party! It gotted all over the floors and everywheres. I says the Queen's Guard coulda come over here and sorts it all out, but noooooo. This one have to go playing hero. Babbage, the princess-saving pixie, or somethin' dopey like that."
Walker returned at that moment with an economy-sized bottle of aspirin and two glasses of water. Fiona had been looking forward to the vodka. She waved aside the tablets he offered her and snatched the bottle out of his hand. Before he could growl at her, she leaned forward and pressed two kisses to his forehead, one above each temple. When she drew back, she could see the lines in his brow ease as his headache began to dissipate. Then she took one of the glasses of water and downed it in three quick gulps. Better than aspirin any day.
He took the empty glass from her hand. "Thanks."
She smiled at him. "You're welcome." When she turned back to the Fae, she wasn't smiling. "Are you telling me that the message I tried to send through that enchanted glass actually came through? Because on this end, I barely got a glimpse of the palace before something destroyed the spell and the glass."
"That were what we seen, too. But I telled the pixie about it being exploded and what we seen beforehands, and that's when he gots all bended out of shapes."
She's No Faerie Princess Page 17