Several fat white candles filled the room with a warm, soft glow.
“Fearghus called up to say you were hurt.” Her eyes assessed Ric as Meagan and Blaine helped him to the turned-down bed. “What happened?”
“Two of Owain’s thugs caught up with us at a truck stop,” Ric spoke slowly, sweat beading on his forehead.
“Since you’re here, you obviously won.” Blaine’s voice was dry as he stepped back from the bed. He glanced at Meagan. “Are you hurt, my lady?”
Meagan looked up at him, startled. It hadn’t even occurred to her that she could have been hurt as well. All her concern had been for Ric. “No, they ignored me. Both of them went after Ric.”
“Which was their final mistake.” The pride in Ric’s eyes and voice warmed Meagan’s heart. “Meagan blinked in a baseball bat and got in a swing from behind. You should talk to her, Blaine. She’s had her powers for less than twenty-four hours and no instruction.”
“And she ’ported something?” Blaine raised one bushy black eyebrow and regarded Meagan more closely. “I’m impressed, my lady and I would like to talk to you when we get the chance.”
“Sure.” But she didn’t budge from Ric’s side.
“Meanwhile I need to clean out those wounds.” The healer interrupted the conversation with a wave of her hand. “And that means getting him out of his clothes. So one of you can stay to help with that and the rest of you get out of this room.”
“I’ll stay,” Blaine offered. “I’ve assisted Maeve often enough to be useful.”
Meagan shook her head. “I’m staying. No offense, but there are people out there trying to kill me and the only person I know in this room is him. I’m not going anywhere.” She crossed her arms and leaned in against the headboard.
A small smile curved Dee’s perfect rosebud lips. “As you wish, Lady Rose. Do I take that to mean you won’t be wanting the room we prepared for you?”
Ric groaned. “Knock it off, already. Dee, Meagan. Meagan, Dee. She’s not comfortable being ‘miladied’ yet.
And no, I’m not letting her out of my sight until that damned council vote is over, so cope with it. Blaine, take your wife to bed and let your sister get to work. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Blaine chuckled and his smile transformed his plain features to handsome. “Sounds like a plan. Good night, Meagan, Ric. Bathroom’s through there. Yell if you need something.” He pointed at a door across from the bed and took his wife by the hand and gently led her out of the room, closing the door behind them.
“Hand me that washcloth.” The healer got to work, giving Meagan cool, crisp instructions. “Next, get his boots off. I’m cutting the trousers, but you can help with the rest.”
Meagan did as she was told. Ric’s black Harley-
Davidson boots were splattered with blood and mud, but they could be cleaned, so she gently eased them off his feet and set them aside.
“Laundry basket.” Maeve gestured toward a wicker basket on the floor as she cut the side seam of Ric’s jeans, slowly and carefully. “Boots and all. Fearghus will have it all cleaned and mended by morning. Brownies love that kind of challenge.”
Ah. Meagan moved the boots to it and added Ric’s socks after she peeled them off, trying like crazy not to jostle his leg as she did. The pants leg on his left side was completely soaked in blood and Meagan gulped. How much more could he have stood to lose?
“If you were human, you’d be getting a transfusion right now.” Maeve examined the sword cut she’d just unwrapped. “Actually, you’d probably be dead, because I’m guessing you used a hell of a lot of magic to slow the bleeding. Even for an elf, you’re damned lucky that he hit a secondary artery and not the femoral.”
Ric grunted, his face lined and white. Meagan wished she could absorb his pain into herself. It killed her to know he’d been hurt defending her. She held his hand, trying not to wince as he squeezed down in his pain.
“Can’t you use magic to heal him?” Meagan asked.
She watched intently as Maeve cleaned the angry gash with painstaking attention.
“I will.” The healer spoke without turning from her task, even for a second. “But you don’t want to close a wound with junk in it. That’s messy even when dealing with magic. The edge of the sword left bits of dirt, shreds of denim and whatnot in the leg. Once it’s clean, I’ll heal it.” Moments later, she laid the bloody washcloth in the basin of equally bloody water and placed both hands over the wound. The healer closed her eyes and chanted something in the language Meagan was privately calling Elfish. Meagan watched, her gaze never leaving the bloody gash as it drew closed and the skin knit together.
Finally, only an angry white line remained.
“Whew!” Maeve opened her eyes. “Give me a minute and I’ll get to the rest. Meagan, can you help Ric with his shirt? And maybe you could clean up some of the nicks on his chest and arms.”
Meagan remembered how Elise had nearly passed out after healing Jase and she understood. Without a word, she followed the healer’s instructions, pulling the polo shirt up and over Ric’s head as he raised his arms and leaned forward from the pillows to help. She took a clean washcloth and started rinsing out the smaller cuts with a bottle of drug-store antiseptic. She chuckled when Ric winced at the sting.
“You can stand a sword slash, but not a dab of alcohol? What a wuss.”
Ric smiled back. “Yep. Don’t even get me started on hypodermic needles.”
Why would an elf even have been exposed to syringes? Meagan didn’t want to go there, so she grinned and went back to playing Florence Nightingale. By the time she was done, Maeve’s color had returned and the healer moved up to the head of the bed.
“Concussion first, before I handle the worst of the scratches. All right?”
“Whatever you can do.” Ric lay back against the pillows, looking a bit better than he had when she’d started. “I can function now, if you need to stop. I’ll be at court tomorrow, anyway.” His expression grew serious.
“Is everything all right with Dee? I mean, I assume that’s why you’re here.”
“Dee and my nieces are doing fine.” The healer flashed a happy smile. “But it is twins and she’s close to delivery. They’ve been trying for years and Deirdre miscarried a couple of times, so Blaine’s a basket case.”
Meagan remembered Ric saying that elves weren’t a fertile people. She shivered, thinking about what Dee and Blaine must have gone through.
“I didn’t know,” Ric murmured. “That’s rough. We really shouldn’t have come here right now.”
“Don’t worry about that.” Maeve laid her hands on Ric’s forehead. “We’ll be safe here. Not even Owain is stupid enough to mess with Blaine. Now close your eyes so I can work on the concussion.”
When Ric opened his eyes a few seconds later, he felt like a spear had been removed from his skull. The sudden absence of his pounding headache left him almost giddy with relief.
“Ah, Maeve, you’re a goddess! The Wyndewin did what he could, but he can’t hold a candle to you. I’m in your debt, my dear. Any favor you ever need, let me know.”
Maeve laughed. “Yeah, that’s what they all say.” She touched a few of the medium-sized cuts scattered over Ric’s shoulders and arms and each one instantly disappeared. She made him roll over so they could tend to his back. Once again, Meagan cleaned while Maeve healed. Soon, Ric’s skin was good as new, except for the stark white scar on his thigh. He lay back against the pillows in nothing but a pair of green cotton boxer-briefs, smiling at the women. Maeve smiled back and walked to the door. “Go take a shower, bard. Fearghus will come in and change the sheets while you wash.”
On her way out, she brushed a hand along Meagan’s shoulder and Meagan felt all of her aches and tension drain away. “Sleep well, my Lady Rose. You were a great help and I’m glad to meet you.”
“Thank you, Maeve. Thank you so much, for everything.”
“I’m only doing my job.” She smiled and shook her head in prote
st. “Now good night.” And with that she slipped out the door, leaving Meagan alone with a suddenly revitalized Ric.
Meagan looked down at the bed and saw the erection stretching the fabric of his briefs.
“Weren’t we supposed to take a shower?” Meagan asked, licking her lips. The sight of that bulge made her hot, made her wet. She squeezed her thighs together, but it didn’t help. She wanted Ric inside her with a desperation she’d never felt before.
“Later.” He reached out one hand and clamped it around her wrist. He drew her to the bed and pulled her down into his arms. “I need you now, Meagan.” His whisper was harsh as he pulled her face to his. “Let me inside you.”
“Oh yeah!” He let her say that much before his mouth covered hers, making speech impossible. His hands were busy too, tugging away her shorts and top, fumbling with the clasp of her bra. She was pretty sure he ripped her panties, but she was too far gone to care.
Ric rolled with Meagan, pinning her to the bed. His underwear had disappeared too and they lay pressed together, skin to skin. She loved the feel of his weight on top of her, flattening her breasts, pressing her into the mattress. His penis was hard and thick against her stomach, the rough thatch of pubic hair tickling the tops of her thighs. Meagan shifted, widening her legs, urging him inside.
“Oh, gods, Meagan, I nearly lost you today!” Ric raised himself up on his elbows, stared down at her.
“It’s over and we survived, Ric.” She groaned, her hips wiggling against his. “Now, I need you inside me.
Please!”
He kissed her hard, before he positioned his cock with his hand. “My pleasure,” he whispered, as he impaled her with one powerful thrust. She nearly wept at the beauty of it, the fullness and the completeness of his rock-hard shaft inside her. He bent his face down to take one aching nipple into his mouth and she did cry.
Tears ran down her face as she clutched his head to her breast and pumped her hips in time with his. He switched to the other nipple, sucking strongly, not gentle at all and she came, convulsing around him, but he didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down. He kept thrusting and suckling until she felt the pleasure building again.
She tugged his face up, wanting to kiss him on the mouth. He complied, thrusting his tongue between her lips with the same rhythm as his cock was pounding into her body. She wanted, needed to be even closer, so she tilted her pelvis up into his, wrapped her legs around his waist and locked her ankles, holding on for dear life.
She could feel his body tense as his orgasm built and it was all she could do to hold back her own explosion. As his spine stiffened, he grew even larger, stuffing her almost to the point of pain. She dug in her nails and held on, forgetting even to breathe. The scream started from the base of her own spine and emerged as she shattered, mixing with Ric’s hoarse shout as he spewed into her, pulsing and pumping for long, beautiful moments, while Meagan twitched and spasmed around him. Even after they’d both stopped coming, he stayed inside her while she held him tight, wishing she never had to let go.
Chapter Fourteen
“Now try again, but this time picture the object exactly.” Blaine’s voice was starting to get ragged as his patience frayed. Ric fought a laugh at the snotty look Meagan shot the mage.
“I did. It’s not my fault I got the Diet Coke without the bottle.” Both Meagan and Blaine were damp, wearing a good bit of the errant soda.
“You were probably focusing on the taste of the liquid and not on the container.” Ric couldn’t help the snicker that came out with his words. “A common mistake this early in the game.”
“True enough.” Blaine wiped his shaggy black hair away from his face. The man looked positively frazzled and Ric couldn’t blame him. Twins due any day and a Faerie assassination plot dumped on his doorstep.
“If they haven’t already mentioned it, you’ve come amazingly far in such a short time.” Dee wandered into the sitting room carrying a glass of milk and a banana.
“’Porting an object with no training at all, even under the influence of an overload of adrenaline, is an impressive feat. Once you get a handle on things, you’re going to be very powerful, especially for a halfling.”
Meagan beamed. “Thank you, Dee. How are you feeling this morning?”
Dee smiled back. “Fat. Sluggish. But otherwise marvelous, thank you for asking. Have you any children of your own?”
Meagan flushed and shook her head. “Always figured I was too much the flaky artist to make much of a parent. Never ran into a man I wanted to make babies with, either.”
Flaky? His Meagan? Bollocks! Ric couldn’t believe his ears. But the thought of her making babies with any other man made him want his sword in his hand.
Dee took a seat on the couch next to Blaine and his arm went around her automatically, almost as if the man didn’t even register his own motion. What must it be like to be that tuned into another being? Ric had no lingering feelings for Deirdre other than friendly affection, but now, he was actually jealous. Only he didn’t want Dee, he felt an absurd longing for what she and Blaine had together and a sick feeling grew in his stomach as he realized he only wanted that with Meagan. Like it or not, he’d fallen completely in love with her.
“It happens when you least expect it.” Dee was reassuring Meagan. “Look at it this way. If you’d already had a husband and kids, how much more awkward would your present situation be?”
“You’ve got a point.” Meagan nibbled on a croissant from the tray on the cocktail table in front of them and looked around, as if for a drink. Her tea was long gone, Ric noticed and she was too polite to ask her hosts for her normal beverage. He snapped his fingers and handed her a diet cola, fresh from her own refrigerator.
Their gazes locked as she took it from him, unscrewed the cap and took a long swallow. When she finished, she closed her eyes as if in ecstasy. “I still hate it that you can read my mind, Ric, but thanks. I needed that.”
The funny thing was he hadn’t skimmed her thoughts. He’d simply known that’s what she was missing this morning.
He caught a quick flash as Blaine and Dee exchanged a knowing look. Fuck, they were on to him. He looked down at his hands and spoke briskly. “How about now we focus on your luggage?”
“The whole suitcase or piece by piece?”
“One item, to begin with. Something easy to replace, but familiar. Like your toothbrush. You have to be able to picture it’s location, in order to grab hold of it.”
“Wasn’t there one in your bathroom?” Dee, ever the attentive hostess, asked with concern.
“Of course there was, love, that’s why it’s expendable.” Blaine patted his wife’s hand. “Good call, bard. Now, Meagan, close your eyes and concentrate on that toothbrush. Visualize the color, the shape, the weight of it and where you saw it last. Now imagine it in your hand.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and held out her hand. The others waited, watching in rapt silence. Suddenly, there it was. Her well-worn purple toothbrush appeared in her hand. Meagan opened her eyes and squealed. She launched herself at Ric, throwing herself into his lap, her arms around his neck.
“I did it! I did it! Did you see?” She hugged him hard and planted a smacking kiss on his lips. “I can’t believe it!”
What the hell, his friends already knew he was a goner. He hugged her back. “Aye, love, you did it.”
“Now I can get my suit!”
“There’s a designer boutique downstairs.” Dee’s violet eyes twinkled. “You don’t need to worry about clothing. Help yourself to anything you’d like.”
“That’s really sweet, but…”
“But you’ll feel more confident in your own things.”
Maeve had joined the group, coffee in hand. “Not all of us are as casual about clothing as you are, Dee. I imagine that Meagan will want her own armor in place for meeting our fearless leader.”
“Exactly.” Meagan finally seemed to notice she was still on Ric’s lap. Her face turned a bright p
ink as she scooted off of him and back to her own spot on the sofa.
“I can blink you your suitcase, Meagan.” Ric missed her weight already. “I wanted Blaine to teach you some basics before we leave. But we do need to get moving. The queen isn’t known for limitless patience.”
Blaine snickered. “Not hardly. I want to weave a few more protective charms around the two of you before you go. That amulet is good, but some more oomph won’t hurt. And if you need to leave court in a hurry, be sure to come here. I’ve got wards set against incoming nasties from that side as well. They’ll be tuned to let you through.”
Ric ’ported in Meagan’s luggage and left her in the bathroom of their suite, doing whatever it is that women do. Meanwhile, he wandered back out to have a private chat with Blaine. He filled him in on everything that had happened in the last several days, leading up to the fight at the truck stop.
“You’re going to have to be careful at court. She won’t be safe there, but you can’t come across as the overprotective lover, or Llyris will gut her herself.”
“I know.” Ric downed a mouthful of the Scotch Blaine had poured. “Llyris told me to seduce the heiress if I had to, in order to get her to come. If I pretend that I’m only attentive to keep Meagan in line, I should be able to stick close enough to keep her safe.”
“Sounds like a dangerous game, my friend. Your Meagan doesn’t seem like much of an actress.”
“I wasn’t going to tell her. Goddess, no, every thought she has shows on that face.”
Blaine laughed and Ric ground his teeth. “What?”
“You are asking to have your balls handed to you in a brown paper sack. Have you forgotten that the woman just killed a professional assassin with a fucking baseball bat? Lying to her is almost as stupid as playing games with the queen.”
Ric glared at Blaine through narrowed eyes. “I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep her safe. That’s all that matters.”
Blaine shook his head and sipped his drink. “Love makes fools of us all, doesn’t it?” With a laugh, he raised his glass to Ric and drained it. “On that note, I’m off to make sure that my wife stays off her feet.”
Motor City Fae Page 17