The Mortal Falls

by Anna Durand

  Nevan opened one eye, peering at me from under lush, dark lashes. His sweet smile devastated me, tearing into the mountain inside me, easing a long-held burden. Tears pricked my eyes and I hauled in a quaking breath.

  I pushed away from the motor home, a coil of dread winding tight in my stomach. Though I looked away, I sensed Nevan's gaze on me. He couldn't be my karmic reward. It was crazy.

  Nevan rose in a smooth movement, spoke to my dad and Stan — bidding them goodbye, apparently, since they waved — and strolled up to me.

  To my mother, he said, "May I steal your daughter for a bit?"

  "Go right ahead, dear."

  Nevan slipped his hand into mine, guiding me around the end of the RV and the way to the other side of the vehicle. In the shade of the behemoth motor home, he drew me into his embrace. I closed my eyes, my cheek on his chest, and sighed with a contentment I hadn't experienced… ever. Until I met him.

  "I wish to be alone with you," he murmured. "Quite alone."

  "Sounds good." I folded my arms around him. "Please take me away."

  "My pleasure."

  He whisked us both away.

  *****

  We touched down in the woods. My ears rang, thanks to our trip through the carnivorous tunnel, which had me holding my breath. Having glued my eyes shut for the journey, I wrenched my lids apart as soon as we landed on solid ground.

  Nevan kept his arms around me for a few more seconds, as I regained my footing. The tips of knee-high weeds swiped across my jeans. We huddled within a grove of pines and aspens, with a solitary birch standing sentinel behind Nevan, its white bark like a beam of light in the gloaming of the woods.

  He stepped back a couple paces and frowned at the weeds. "This won't do."

  "For what?"

  Whether he hadn't heard me or heard but chose to ignore me, I couldn't say. He lifted one hand parallel to the ground, palm down, and moved it in a swirling motion. A breeze wafted through the clearing, rustling the vegetation. The weeds collapsed to the ground, flat as they would've been right after snow melt, compressed by a winter's worth of snow.

  Nevan nodded, his smile one of satisfaction.

  "Worried about ticks?" I asked.

  "Ticks?" He hit the word hard, as if he couldn't quite grasp its meaning.

  "Yeah. Tiny, blood-sucking insects that love tall weeds and carry diseases. We mere mortals prefer to avoid them."

  "I know nothing of such creatures."

  Pointing at the squished weeds, I asked, "Why'd you do that?"

  As he advanced on me, he raked his gaze over my body from head to toe and back again. Desire darkened his features, fired up in his eyes, and roughened his voice. "I was striving for a more pleasurable atmosphere."

  I responded the only way I knew how — with evasion. "Why did you tell my brother you're my boyfriend?"

  "We have kissed, and we've spent the better part of three days in each other's company. What would you call me?"

  Confusing. Enthralling. Frightening, at times. "I don't know."

  "You trust me. You want me. We are involved, are we not?"

  Involved? The word came with so many implications. "Technically, I guess we are."

  "Well then." He ensnared my wrists with his hands, rubbing the pulse points there, his eyes burning and swirling in a maelstrom of living, breathing color. "Let's enjoy the pleasures of involvement."

  The heat of his skin penetrated mine, rushing up my arms and through my entire body. My breaths quickened, my nipples shot hard, my breasts felt achy and constricted inside my bra. He skimmed his hands up my arms, inch by inch, tempting and teasing along the way with light strokes of his fingers.

  His hands crested my shoulders, gliding up my throat to dive into my hair. His sure fingers massaged and explored, slid down to my nape, caressed and erased the tension bound up in my muscles. I couldn't stop my head from lolling backward into his touch, nor could I silence my breathy moan. I'd never experienced anything so damn good, and yet a need swelled inside me, a craving for more than this. Much more.

  Losing control, losing my mind, losing my —

  I snapped out of the haze as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. Breathing hard, I staggered backward. I'd been on the verge of letting him do anything he wanted to me, of letting him take my virginity. Hell, I would've handed it over gift wrapped with a nice little thank-you card on top. To a man — a being — I'd known for less than three days. Christ.

  Nevan raised one brow, his lips curving slightly in a devilish smile.

  I coughed, shifting from one foot to the other. Could he read my mind? God, I hoped not.

  He strode one step closer.

  I scuttled backward, and for the second time since I'd met him, backed my stupid ass right into a tree. Gah. Why was I backing away from him, anyway? Not because I worried about losing control at the feel of his skin on mine or the intoxicating fever of his kiss. No, not because of that.

  Nevan crossed those impressive arms over his chest, inexorably pulling my gaze to the landscape of sculpted sinews on his arms, and lower, to his taut abs and the trail chiseled out by those muscles, where it plunged beneath his loincloth.

  One more step. Arms falling to his sides. Tongue sliding over his lips.

  Plastered to the tree, I fought to catch my breath, to take in enough oxygen, but my scalp had begun to tingle.

  Another step, those hips swaying.

  Breath, stolen. Thoughts, scattered. I huddled against the tree, stiff and paralyzed.

  With one final movement, he penned me between his body and the tree. He planted his hands on the wide trunk of the tree, at either side of my head. My heart fluttered, my stomach too. I crooked my fingers into the bark, desperate for a handhold to buttress me.

  Nevan regarded me without expression, consuming my view so the entirety of my world consisted of him and only him. "Stars in heaven, love. Ye look ready to crumble. I didn't think a mortal could be this tense."

  I'd built up enough tension to hold up a suspension bridge. "I've had a rough week."

  "That's not the reason." He leaned in, his chest meeting my breasts, and suddenly the barrier of my clothing seemed flimsy and worthless. "Ye weren't this tense until I brought you here. With me. Alone."

  The delicate pressure of his muscles against my rigid nipples coursed a painful desire straight down to my sex. I'd never survive this if I didn't cool things down. Right. Piece of cake. Moist, decadent cake dripping with warm, dark fudge sauce.

  My mouth watered. Damn.

  I drummed my left foot on the patch of purple wildflowers beneath my boots, pulverizing the petals.

  Nevan shook his head. "How can ye stand to be this pent up?"

  "Excuse me?"

  "Perhaps repressed is a better term."

  Repressed? Pent up? I ratcheted my spine even straighter and elevated my chin. "I am not repressed."

  Except I had a mental vault where I locked up my emotions. But that wasn't the same as repressing them. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

  "It was an observation," he said, "not a judgment. You conceal your most powerful feelings quite masterfully."

  "Said the pot to the kettle."

  "And which would I be?"

  "Does it matter?"

  He dipped his head to mine, his lips within licking distance. Not that I wanted to lick him — them. As if he'd perceived my lust, he wet his lips with a slow glide of his tongue. His voice vibrated through me like distant thunder. "You are definitely the pot. A kettle releases it steam, but you've got yours sealed under a tight lid."

  "I'm not sure that's the correct definition a pot or a kettle."

  "Ye won't distract me with semantics, love." He settled a finger on my lips. "I can feel the steam trapped within ye."

  "But I'm not angry."

&n
bsp; He dragged his finger across my mouth, swept it back to center of my lips, nudged it between them until I tasted his skin. "Not that kind of steam."

  Too late I understood, and my insides went warm and liquid. My shoulders sank against the tree. My head fell back, exposing my throat. Every labored breath pushed my breasts into him, chafing my nipples, turning my nerves into high-tension wires, the current fierce and almost unbearable.

  Where was the frigging grip I'd gotten hold of a minute ago? I must've dropped it here somewhere.

  Fumbling for my mental armor, I cleared my throat. "Maybe I do hold things in, but you're one to talk. I'm onto you, buster. This whole happy-go-lucky Irishman thing is an act, because you're just as repressed as I am, only in a different way."

  "I'm not on the brink of snapping under the pressure of it."

  Couldn't help smirking. "You just admitted you are pent up."

  He bent his elbows, laying his forearms against the tree, bringing his body and lips to within a hair's breadth of mine. "I maintain control because I must."

  I dared not move, else I'd be kissing him without intending to. Probably not intending it. I tried to scowl, but his proximity kept me on edge — a thrilling edge, beyond which lay forbidden pleasures. Failing to muster any anger, I clutched at the tree's bark, scraping off bits. "For you, it's control. For me, it's repression. Hmph."

  "Am I to know what hmph means?"

  I squirmed and my hips rubbed across his erection. Swallowing hard, I said, "Hmph means if this is your idea of flirting, you need an intensive workshop in seduction."

  He smiled, white teeth bared, eyes crinkled at the corners. "Seduction. Is that what you're wanting, love?"

  Shit, shit, shit. Why did I never learn to shut my trap?

  "No." The petulance in my voice disheartened me. I pressed myself harder into the tree, and the bark scratched at me through my T-shirt. "Not what I meant. I do not want you to… um… do that."

  His fingers, poised at either side of my head, toyed with my hair. Wispy locks feathered over my skin as he rumbled, "I will gladly study your desires and memorize all the ways I might tempt you."

  Had to change the subject. Immediately. "Tell me more about the Unseen realm. Are bargains and debts the only things I have to worry about?"

  Interest glimmered behind the firestorm in his eyes. "Are ye planning on spending more time in my world?"

  "I don't — not really. I mean, if the need arises — "

  He rocked his hips into me, his arousal hard and hot against my belly. "If what need arises? Ah, never mind. I can imagine."

  "Keep your imagination in your pants, please."

  His hair tickled my face as he tilted his head to the side. He dashed little kisses over my neck, working his way back to my face until his breaths ghosted over my mouth and I swore I felt the barest caress of his lips.

  My eyes flew open. I shoved my hand between our mouths. "No kissing, you promised."

  "I did not kiss you." He drew his head back and frowned. "I can tell when you're thinking of him. That Calder person. I recognize the grieved look."

  "I'm not sorry he's gone."

  "But you grieve for your innocence. It can't be regained." Though his face had retreated, his body was still molded to mine as he circled a fingertip over my temple. "I can show you a more rewarding state of mind, and body, if you wish it. One certain to erase bad memories."

  "It's not that easy."

  "Nothing worthwhile ever is."

  His mouth hovered close to mine, yet never touched me. He must've possessed incredible control to keep a distance of millimeters without slipping. The nearness of him, the risk of accidental contact, excited me more than I'd ever admit aloud.

  "Your heart is racing," he said against my throat. "Are you afraid of me?"

  "No."

  "Then you must be excited."

  Christ, was I ever. More than I'd dreamed I could be.

  A question popped into my brain, and I had to ask, since we seemed to be constantly negotiating one thing or another. "Do bargains and debts have any real power in this world?"

  "No, not here."

  "Magic doesn't force you to stick to our no-kissing agreement."

  "I choose to abide by it."

  His admission relaxed me more than anything else he might've done. Without magical repercussions to coerce him, he nevertheless stuck to our bargain. I wondered why for a brief moment, until he silenced my inner voice, skating his hand up my arm, hovering it just above the skin, exciting the fine hairs and stimulating the nerves beneath the surface. It felt like he'd flicked a thousand tiny switches inside me, to unleash pathways never before opened. I sighed, flooded with a satisfaction so intense my body slackened.

  I was aroused and unwound all at once. Electrified and soothed. Starved and sated. It seemed impossible, but like many things I'd learned of late, this impossibility proved all too possible.

  "I have to go," I said, "back to the shop. My family deserves an explanation. I owe them several of those, actually." A cold blade of anxiety pierced my heart. "I need to tell them about Calder."

  He watched me, immovable as a boulder, his mood unreadable.

  I waved a hand. "Step aside, please."

  "You'll need to release me first."

  "What?"

  He nodded at my hands.

  They were on his hips, my fingers gripping him.

  I yanked my hands away and clamped them under my arms. I flailed for my thoughts, which spun out away from me. Somehow, this man — sylph, elemental, whatever — could shatter my composure without doing a blessed thing.

  "Shall I transport you back to the shop?" he asked.

  I roamed my gaze over the surroundings. "How far away are we?"

  "Perhaps a five-minute walk."

  "I'd rather walk, if you don't mind." A little time to clear my head, away from the influence of his proximity. Unbridled desires led to only one outcome.

  Pain. Suffering. Tragedy.

  I ducked around Nevan, marching toward the other side of the clearing.

  He cleared his throat, gesturing in the opposite direction. "It's this way, darlin'."

  "Oh." I spun on my heels and stalked past him down a narrow deer trail.

  Alone.

  14

  My solitude lasted ten seconds. The slapping of bare feet on earth signified Nevan had caught up to me.

  I sighed when he came up alongside me. "Said I wanted to be alone."

  "You said you'd rather walk. No mention of wishing me gone."

  "I don't wish you gone. I wanted a little time to myself, that's all."

  "Beginning to think you don't know what you really want."

  Once again, he delved right down to my soul to expose a truth I couldn't deny. "Maybe I don't know what I want. But I'm too tired for penetrating insights, okay?"

  He slipped an arm around my waist. "Am I penetrating you?"

  "Ugh." I dared to glance at him, dismayed by his playful smile. "I just keep setting myself up for your double entendres, don't I?"

  "Repressed longings are bound to slip out now and again."

  Opting to let that comment go, because I absolutely did not want to discuss my pent-up emotions, I walked faster. He removed his arm but kept pace with me as we traveled in silence, his strides sure and purposeful while mine were shuffling. With anyone else, the lack of conversation would've made me uneasy, yet with him it seemed natural to be in each other's company without small talk.

  A couple minutes later, as we approached the healing vortex, my gut twisted into tight little knots at the thought of what I needed to do. Tell my family about the supernatural nightmare my life had become. I resisted the urge to chew my nails, a bad habit I'd never suffered from before, and shoved my hands in my jeans pockets.

  Nevan slid
a hand down the underside of my wrist, easing my hand out of my pocket and into his palm.

  I closed my fingers around his. "Tell me something about you. Something you wouldn't tell anyone else."

  He stopped. His hold on my hand halted me too. We angled toward each other like two magnets whose poles sought to align.

  "I was mortal once," he said.

  "Was it a punishment, like getting suspended from school?"

  "No." His fingers fidgeted around mine but he held onto my hand. "I was born a mortal and died one as well. My people had engaged in a long-standing war with a neighboring clan. I suffered a grievous injury during the last battle I fought. I was dying, I knew this." His fingers grasped mine harder, then loosened, his thumb massaging the back of my hand. "I had collapsed on the shores of a lake, my blood flowing into the waters, sinking down to the bottom where a portal to the otherworld lay. As it turned out, I had a bit of the Unseen realm in me. My blood unlocked the doorway."

  Questions bounced in my head, but I squelched them. Later.

  He raised our joined hands to his chest level, capturing me in his hold. Seeking comfort. Seeking connection. I recognized the need, since I'd suffered from it my entire life. Until I'd met this man, I'd failed to find the thing for which I longed the most. Its name whispered in the recesses of my mind, but still, I could not speak it even in my own thoughts.

  No, I couldn't have fulfilled that need. Not yet. Not after three days with him.

  I pulled our hands to my breast, sealing them together with my free hand. My heart beat a bit faster, with his skin glued to mine in the valley between my breasts, and my heart lightened.

  Too soon, way too soon.

  And yet, I could not let go of his hands.

  "The sylph king, Notus, came to me," Nevan said.

  "Skeiron hasn't always been king?"

  "He ascended to the throne after a lengthy and violent war with Notus." A shadow seemed to fall over him — a shadow from the past. "At one time, Skeiron was an admirable warrior, the leader of the sylph army, a faithful servant to the king. Notus became depraved, though, just as Skeiron has."