“No, I guess not,” I said, my hands still tracing the pattern of the tattoo.
His hand covered mine and the smell of mint grew stronger. “Quinn…” His voice was husky and again my eyes travelled over him. Low slung, snug pants allowed a great view of the muscling that drew my eyes downwards, a perfect symmetry of strength and temptation. Mouth suddenly dry, I looked away and tried to draw my hand from his. My fingers slid through his easily and a tremble rippled through me, centering in my belly and spreading outwards. I should not be here like this, not when I knew that Luke was the one for me. Wasn’t he?
I cleared my throat. “Thank you. For saving me.”
Bres didn’t say anything, just sat there in a perfect crouch as I tried to get my bearings. I was in the king-sized bed, pillows supporting every side of me. The table where the Fomorii had sat to eat was still there, as was the roasting pig—if that’s what it actually was.
“Why were you mean to me, when we first met?” I asked.
He stared at me, his eyebrows lifted high. “Ta prophecy says that you be meant for Luke. And since you seem to have bought into ta whole pile of destiny crap they be feeding you, I didn’t think you’d like me tempting you away from him. I wondered if I’d be able to without any real ability to Charm.”
I laughed even as I flushed. “You, tempt me? Please. Just now? I was just . . .” I fumbled for the right words.
“Leading me on?” Bres offered, the corner of his lips turned up. Hiding a smile.
I nodded, then winced. “Yes. Exactly. You are a Fomorii. I can’t be with you. Don’t want to anyway. I thought you were Luke for a minute there. It was the tattoo.”
His eyes hardened reminding me very much of his father. “Luke is half Fomorii you know.”
I nodded. “Yes, but he doesn’t act like it. You do.”
“Do I? Hmm. Well, if one is going to be accused of a crime, might as well commit it,” he said, his eyes back to their devious twinkling that made me think he was laughing at me.
He lunged towards me and I fell backwards onto the pillows, his body pressing mine into the soft bedding. Noses touching, I stared into his eyes, drowning in those violet depths. My breath came in short sharp bursts; it must have been the wounds. Heat pooled in my belly, spreading through me; it must have been a low grade infection from the claws. I would not feel for Bres.
“What would you do if I claimed you as me own?” he whispered and my eyes widened, lips parting involuntarily.
“You can’t do that. I’m not some trinket to claim,” I said, trying to be tough, my words coming out breathy at best.
“No, that you aren’t me beautiful lady.” He dropped his lips to mine and every other thought I had was washed away in the pleasure of his skin, the cold fire that thrilled through my body. My hands found their way to his hair, holding him tight against me, demanding more. Power swirled around us, I could feel it escalating, our energies twinning, tangling, becoming more together than they ever would be apart. More even than I could be with Luke. Ah, shit.
A weak cry escaped my lips as I tried to roll to one side, breaking off the kiss, the deep wounds feeling as if they were pulling me apart.
Bres sat up, stared at me a moment and I was glad to see his face looked as shell shocked as I felt.
“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” he muttered, got up and walked over to the table laden with food.
With his back to me, he picked at the feast. “You might as well get some sleep. We won’t be leaving here until your wounds be at least partially knitted.”
“How am I going to rescue anyone when I can’t even keep myself in one piece?” I whispered, barely able to see him through my tears. “I’m no good to anyone, I can’t be the one the prophecy speaks of. I can’t even get over my fear of water! I can’t even be faithful to Luke!”
Bres turned and came back to the bed, sitting down beside me. With great care he pulled me into his arms. Tears poured out of me as all the fear, worry, guilt, shame and anxiety over Ashling and my mom flowed along with the blood that trickled down my skin.
He held me through it all as I slowly pulled myself back together, my heart still aching, the guilt still reminding me of the things I had to make right. The emotions were, in a way, sharper than the claw wounds in my body—I knew they would take far longer to heal.
I lay my head against his chest and let his body warm me. Minutes passed and the proximity of his body and mine became a rather acute thing.
“Quinn.” His voice startled me and I jumped, the blanket that had been covering me slipping down, baring my shoulders and the tops of my breasts.
He stared at me with a hunger so fierce I found it hard to breathe. Bres reached out, his hands sliding down my shoulders and arms then settling on my waist, the tingle from the poultice setting my skin to singing, the blanket pooling in my lap.
“You can’t move yet,” he said. “Ta wounds, they be needing time to heal. Traversing ta Labyrinth is dangerous enough without an injury.”
“How long?” I asked.
I raised my hands, once again tracing the patterns of his tattoo, my fingers dancing across his hard abs, swirling them downwards to settle on his hip, thumbs caressing the soft skin. Heat flushed through my cheeks at my own brazen behaviour but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. No; I had to. Luke was waiting for me.
I watched him swallow hard, and a bright edge of pleasure filled me and I embraced it. Better than the guilt and shame I’d been feeling. It took him a second try to get words out.
“At least a few hours. Maybe more,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. I understood then. This had to be my choice.
“I’m not supposed to move?”
He shook his head, dark hair falling over his eyes; he peered out at me through the strands. I pursed my lips in thought. “And the poultice has to be on the wounds to help the healing?”
“Yes.” His voice was thick and his hands were trembling as he held my waist.
I was going to regret this moment, I knew I was. But I also knew that I wasn’t completely in control of my faculties. Massive injuries, adrenaline and lust didn’t help when making decisions. So I did what I knew my mother would want me to, to keep from throwing myself into the arms of someone I barely knew.
“I should sleep for a while then.”
Bres nodded. “Here, drink a little of this, it will help you sleep and heal.” He handed me a silver flask, the cap already unscrewed. I sniffed the contents.
“What is it?” I asked, naturally suspicious.
“It’s an elixir; it will help. I promise,” he said.
I did as he told me to, the flavour one of honey and springtime air, lavender and mint.
“That’s really good,” I said; then I hiccupped. And giggled.
It was when I tried to stand and he attempted to stop me that I wondered at what just was in the drink. Bres took my hands.
“No, you need to lie down Quinn.”
I swayed on my feet and wondered why he was looking at me so strangely.
“I didn’t think this would happen. You have too much human blood to handle this,” he said, his face carefully blank, giving nothing away.
I grinned at him and put my finger to my lips, distantly realizing I was more than a little tipsy. I didn’t have it in me to wonder how potent the stuff was that a single sip could have me this sauced in less than ten seconds.
Bres shook his head and lowered me back to the bed. “You should get some sleep,” he said, crouching beside the bed as he brushed his fingers across my cheek.
I blew a raspberry. “I couldn’t sleep now. I want to talk.”
He closed his eyes. “That’s what I was afraid of, damn Fairy Honey.”
“I’m your fairy honey?” I asked, confused at what he’d said and, to be honest, somewhat delighted by the nickname.
“No, fairy honey is what I gave you. For ta human blood in you it’s intoxicating beyond any alcohol and makes you talkative, blurs painful memories for a tim
e, as well as . . .” He looked as if he was going to continue so I waved him to silence with a floppy hand.
“That’s boring. I want to talk about other things,” I said, then giggled and imitated his Irish accent. “Tings, I want to talk about ta tings.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. “Like?”
I frowned, knowing that there were things I needed to know, important things, but they slipped through my mind like water through a sieve. So I went with the obvious.
“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”
Bres’ eyes popped open wide and he choked on a cough before answering. “Maybe.”
I pursed my lips and set my chin in my hands. He really was so fine to look at. All those hard angles and beautiful violet eyes; made me want to lick him all over.
Bres flushed a slow creep of red that spread up from his neck right to his hairline. I blinked at him and tipped my head, sending the world to swirling around me. I lay back on the thick blankets, laughing. “What did I say?” Were all my thoughts just popping out of my mouth?
“Yes, they are,” Bres answered. He scrubbed his face with his hands. “Now go to sleep Quinn, you’ll feel better in a few hours and then we can get going.”
Then I remembered what I’d been thinking. “You don’t want me to lick you all over?” I rolled onto all fours and crawled towards the end of the bed. Tears started to prickle in my eyes. “I’m not pretty enough am I? Probably the girls you know are just like you. Stunning, long-legged dark beauties.” I let out a sniffle.
Bres leaned forward and lifted my chin with his finger. “No, that isn’t true; you are beautiful Quinn.” His voice grew soft and I leaned into his fingers. “But this can’t be, lovey, much as I might want it to.”
There was a little voice, deep inside my mind, screaming at me to control myself, that I was acting like a complete and total hussy. But the fairy honey cut me off from all my inhibitions.
I stepped off the bed and wrapped myself around him, slipping my arms around his neck. “I changed my mind; I don’t want to sleep anymore. Kiss me Bres,” I whispered, the slur in my voice thick.
He smiled up at me, his eyes dilated with a hunger I knew my own echoed. The hunger faded, replaced by a sadness so deep my heart ached for it as he unwrapped my arms from around his neck and lifted me off his lap. “You need to sleep right now, let your body heal.”
My bottom lip pouted and I let go of him and tumbled back into the bed, deliberately ignoring his wry smile. “Sleep easy Quinn, I will be close by.”
~~
17
Only a few hours passed before Bres roused me. I sat up with a groan and he dropped a jar into my hands. “Rub ta poultice in good. Your wounds aren’t healed up yet, they were too deep to heal this fast, but we are running out of time.” He was all business.
I dropped my chin to my chest and slowly rubbed the poultice in. My head throbbed, but my body did feel remarkably good—only a dull ache, for the most part. I watched Bres from the corner of my eye as he gathered his things. I wanted him, more than anything, but my priority was Ashling and Mom. That hadn’t changed. There was no time for a romp in the sack, no matter how luscious he was. I would deal with my treacherous emotions later, when lives weren’t on the line.
Wearing only pants; I stood with one arm across my breasts. My shirt was shredded and saturated with blood in a pile off to the side along with my bra. “Bres, I need something to wear on top.”
He had his back to me as he stood by the pit. Not bothering to turn around he said, “There are clothes to ta left of the bed. Take your pick.” More than bitter, his voice had a hollow sound to it. Like I’d hurt him. Should I apologize?
I found the pile of discarded clothes and pulled out the smallest shirt in the pile. It was bloodied and had a few gashes in it, but it would do. I glanced back at Bres, who hadn’t moved. Taking the largest, cleanest shirt, I used my knife to cut it into swaths. I could use it to wrap my upper body, covering the wounds. A shirt over top and voila, ready to go.
“Let me help you,” Bres said, coming up beside me.
I handed him the swath of material, took a shallow breath and lifted my arms up over my head, baring myself completely. Bres wrapped my wounds, starting at my waist and working his way upwards, his eyes never lingering on any one spot. I wasn’t sure if I was happy about that or not.
“I should have known you’d be faithful to him,” Bres said, his hands working deftly, but not touching my skin at all.
I frowned and put my hand on his, stopping him. “What are you talking about?”
Bres looked down at me, his eyebrows drawn tight, and his fingers quiet under mine. “Luke of course. I should have known you’d be faithful to him.”
I said nothing, just stared at the far wall. I wasn’t feeling particularly faithful at the moment. Right then all I wanted to do was burrow back into the bed with Bres, and pretend that I hadn’t met Luke.
Bres shook his head and started to wrap again. “No, ta two of you are meant for each other. Prophecies are never wrong Quinn. Though I’ve often wished they were, have fought them my whole life, they always turn out exactly as they say they will. Forgive me for tempting you.”
Again I stopped him. “You just said that destiny is crap, now you’re telling me it can’t be changed? And nowhere did it say Luke and Quinn, XOXO.” Though even as I said that I could feel something settle around me, like a chain around my heart.
He nodded. “I can see it in your face. You know he’s meant for you too. Damn.” He shook his head.
I licked my lips. “Ashling told me the prophecy.” I repeated it back to him, he nodded.
“That be the one.”
“But, it’s not plain English,” I said. “The prophecy doesn’t say ‘point A here, then to point B by characters C and D.’”
Bres finished wrapping me up like a mummy and tied off the tail end of it, his fingers lingering on my collarbone. With a sigh he removed his hand from my skin and took a step back.
“Ta basics of it is that you will cut down evil, bring all ta realms into a single one and that you and Luke are meant to be. Ta end.” He bent and picked up a shirt, slipping it over his head.
I frowned. “Are you sure? Because as far as I can tell, I’m not much for being this chosen person. No one listens to me—I can’t even rescue my own sister without being pushed out of a helicopter.”
“Dragged.”
“Whatever.” I let out a sigh, immediately regretting it when pain followed.
“Prophecies can’t be bargained with Quinn,” he said, then let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh what the hell.” Then he grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me.
I froze at first, then slowly wrapped my arms around him with a groan, his tongue and lips lighting a fire in my blood that made my heart pound and my body ache. I pressed my body against him, very slowly pulling my lips from his, just far enough so that I could speak.
“What was that about a prophecy?” I asked.
The corners of his lips lifted as he seemed to hold back a grin. “Prophecy be damned.”
I nodded and kissed him lightly. “That’s what I thought too. Besides, if I meant anything at all to Luke, wouldn’t he be here trying to save me?”
Bres snorted. “He is the Shining One. He can’t come to the kingdom of the Fomorii; it would be a death sentence. So even for you he wouldn’t come here. Besides that, ta Council forbid him.”
That was not far off what Cora had said, that the Council didn’t know that Luke had come for me. I brushed a lock of his dark hair off his face, thinking of all the paths ahead of me. “What a mess this is.”
He unwrapped himself from around me. “We’ll figure this out once we get out of here. If we get out of here.” He lifted my hand and kissed the back of it, heat trailing along with his lips.
No more was said as we left the chamber, holding hands. I didn’t want to be separated from him but I didn’t think I could have him and Luke too. Lu
ke—he was waiting for me and here I was hanging onto Bres like a love-struck school girl. I barely knew either of them really, I was just letting my hormones get the better of me. Stupid, I was being stupid.
I let go of his hand and stared straight ahead, my fingers cooling without the heat of his skin against mine. Whether I believed the prophecy or not wasn’t in question. The ties between me and Luke were there and I would be a fool to let Bres, Balor’s son, come between us.
“What’s wrong?” Bres asked. He tried to take my hand again, but I pulled away.
“I can’t. Please don’t ask me to. I wasn’t with it enough before to push you away,” I said.
“So that’s how it’s to be is it?” His voice seemed hollow; I refused to look at him, instead keeping my eyes forward.
“Yes, that’s how it’s going to be.” I knew I was doing the right thing; being faithful to Luke was the right thing…
Though I wished with all my heart it wasn’t.
~~
18
We’d been walking for hours. my body ached from head to toe. Fatigue—even after the rest I’d had—settling on my shoulders, a weight I couldn’t get rid of.
Any noise we made as we walked rebounded back to us, making it seem at times as if the Labyrinth was crawling with other creatures. But in truth it remained silent. When I asked Bres about it he shrugged, shook his head and wouldn’t answer.
Bres had a glow ball—at least that’s what he called it—the baseball of fire I’d seen him conjure several times, that floated in front of us, lighting our way.
“Will you show me how to do that now?” I asked, putting my hand out to touch the orb. It was warm, smooth like glass and very pretty, not to mention a godsend in this darkness.
“You just have to focus on what you want to make.”
I stretched my hand out again and thought of a glow ball; I wanted mine to be filled with blue fire. I stared at the open space above my fingers, imagined the ball, the blue fire within it. Nothing happened.
“I’m not as good at this perhaps as the prophecy thought?” I snorted. “I think they’ve got the wrong girl.”
Dark Waters Page 10