by Anna Durand
I shined my flashlight into the inky woods. No leprechaun yet.
Screw this.
I screamed, like a teenage girl riding her first roller coaster. I shrieked Tris's name, railing epithets into the night.
My cries slid back into wordless, blood-curdling screams, the likes of which had never busted out of me before in my life. I screamed until my throat burned, until my voice cracked, until —
Tris materialized in front of me.
Gasping for breath, I choked off my wail. My throat scorched like sandpaper set on fire.
The leprechaun screwed up his mouth, brows knit and lowered in a sullen expression. "What the hell do you want, lady? You're waking up the whole neighborhood."
"To hell with your friends," I croaked. "You're the only one I need."
"Here I thought you were hot for the sylph. Hate to break it to you, sister, but you ain't my type." He waved at my breasts. "Too busty."
"You little worm." I stomped straight up to him, stabbing my finger into his chest. He winced the tiniest bit. "I don't have time for your bullshit. Nevan is dying."
His brows smoothed out and an emotion flickered across his face, but I had no brainpower left to decipher it. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his ripped jeans. "What's it got to do with me?"
I bent to glare into his eyes, our faces so close my breaths reflected off his skin. "You are going to heal him with the vortex."
"Ain't no vortex here, lady."
I shuffled back a step. "What?"
"No vortex." He enunciated with exaggerated care, as if speaking to a dimwit.
I felt dimwitted at this moment, and devoid of all hope. But I could not — would not — give up. "There's a waterfall. I brought him here, I nearly drowned crossing the fucking veil, and you're telling me it was all for nothing?" I grabbed the collar of his flannel shirt, hauling him into me. My lips scraped his as I hissed words at him. "You find a way to heal him or I will rip your dried-up, repulsive, festering little heart right out of your chest."
He stopped blinking. Stopped breathing. Stopped fighting and just stared at me.
"Do you hear me?" I shook him hard enough to rattle his brain. "Do you?"
"Yeah," he said slowly, his voice hushed. "I hear you, but… "
"What?"
He shrank a little, shoulders bunching. "There really ain't a vortex here, I'm sorry. We'd have to somehow get him to where there is one."
"Not the one where I first met you. Skeiron is there, or he was, and he's pissed." Understatement of the millennium. "I don't think Skeiron's dead, but even if he is, Brennus would be waiting for us there."
"Skeiron? Brennus? Holy cripes, lady, feed me to the hell hounds and get it over with. I can't fight those two."
"You don't have to." A retched thought took hold and I squinted at Tris. "Are you working for Skeiron? Is that why you won't save Nevan?"
"Working for him?" Tris blew air through his lips. "He massacred a whole coven of fae witches to steal their power. No fae helps him — ever."
"Unless he tricked you into a bargain."
One corner of his mouth ticked up in a half smirk. "He can't. We made a group bargain not to deal with Skeiron, and trust me, we worded it so no stinking sylph can get around it."
Though I couldn't focus on his words, though part of me understood.
I shoved him away. "Get Nevan to another vortex and fix him."
"Yeah-yeah, okay." Tris raised his hands, palms out. "I know of another one, a good strong vortex. I'll have to, um… " He twirled one finger in the air. "You know, uh, kinda get us there the magical way."
"Whisk us through the tunnel thingy. Fine, I don't give a damn, just do it."
"Well, ya see, I ain't eaten lately."
I shook my fists in the air. "Then eat some goddamn copper."
"Got none."
"Nevan is dying."
"Sorry, I can't do nothing without fuel." He cringed, as if expecting me to explode.
Which I'd done constantly since summoning him. I drew in a breath, letting it out little by little, and fought for self-control. Easier said than done. My entire body had begun to shake with a combination of terror and fury. Still, I managed a calmer tone when I spoke again. "Zip over to the rock shop, you'll find plenty of copper there."
"All right." He eyed me askance, leaning back. "You better come with me. Never know who you might've woken up with your hollering."
The thought of Nevan breached my panic. He'd be as safe where he was as anywhere, and besides, I had no other options.
Tris cautiously stretched out a hand to me. I took it. Nevan had always embraced me for traveling this way, but the instant my hand touched Tris's, he zipped us away. We materialized in the darkened shop, my flashlight illuminating the interior.
My trip with Tris proved Nevan hadn't needed to hug me for traveling. He must've wanted to do it that way. The realization made my chest ache.
Tris and I scurried around the shop gathering every kind of copper available — nuggets, fist-size chunks, jewelry fashioned from the stuff, and a pair of copper ore bookends like the ones Brad stole.
Brad. He was dead forever this time.
Nevan would be soon too, if we didn't hurry the hell up.
In one hand, Tris grasped the plastic shopping bag we'd laden with copper items. Before I could pester him, he snagged my hand and transported us to my car, where it was parked at the rest stop. I tore the back door open and knelt at Nevan's head. Tears fuzzed my vision and tightened my throat. I clamped my teeth over both lips, clasped Nevan's cold hand in mine, and looked at Tris. His hand still held mine.
"The vortex," I said through my teeth. "Now."
No griping. No eye rolling. He zipped us away from the car, into a forest much like the one around the shop and the other waterfall. Were we still in the Keweenaw? In Michigan? I didn't give a crap anymore. Nothing mattered except saving Nevan.
He lay at my feet, crumpled on the ground. The moss-covered earth squished under my boots as I moved to Nevan's side and crouched there, his hand still enclosed in mine. I clasped our hands to my heart.
Tris inched backward away from me.
Wherever we were, this clearing had no sign declaring the area a healing vortex, no stone benches, nothing except empty space ringed by the woods.
The leprechaun squatted, ripping open the shopping bag. He wolfed down copper ore in whole chunks, only resorting to biting off mouthfuls when he got down to the bookends. Ore dust rained from his lips, coating his clothing and sprinkling onto the mossy ground, as his teeth pulverized the rock in quick time. When he'd finished, he wadded up the bag and jammed it in his pocket. Then he rose and rolled back his shoulders.
His blue eyes gleamed, twin supernovas of cobalt blue.
And he just stood there.
My frustration exploded out of me on a breath. I flapped my arms, trying to get his attention, but he gazed off into nothing. "What is wrong with you? Wake up, dammit."
"Something hinky's going on," he said, sounding drugged. "Funky energy's interfering, and I can't get past it." His gaze cleared and zeroed in on me. "It's you."
"That's — " I stopped, my mouth still open. Nevan said time passed slower in the Unseen because magic must've been interfering with it. He'd suggested the energy he sensed in me had been responsible. Now Tris made a similar claim, but I didn't give a damn what the cause was. "How can we fix this?"
"No frigging clue. Maybe a b — " The color flooded out of his face. "Forget it. There ain't no way."
I slunk closer to him. "A bargain. That's what you almost said."
"No way." He blundered backward, tripped on a rock. "If I power up the vortex from this side of the water, I have to pull in a piece of the Unseen realm to do it. In essence, we are in my world."
So a bargain… Shit.
>
"Can't let you do it, lady." He twisted his shirt around his fingers, glancing down at Nevan. "He'd kill me if I did."
My gaze fell to Nevan. His pale face. Those sensual lips now a frightening shade of blue-white. The blood on his chest. The gaping wound.
Flashbacks raced through my mind. Nevan taking me away when Travis was chasing me. Nevan's body curled around mine as I slept. The way he insisted I eat and brought me tempting foods to ensure I did. His lips on mine, tender and then ravenous with passion. The vow he'd made to my mother, that he would protect me at any cost. I squeezed my hands around his. If his death was the cost, I could not let him pay it. My hands trembled. Nothing else matters.
I rolled my eyes up to fixate on Tris. "If you heal him, I will give you anything you want."
"Aw, lady, are you nuts?"
"Probably. Do we have a deal?"
Tris's gaze darted to Nevan and doubt flickered on his face. His shoulders hunched. "Oh man, if I let you do this, he'll murder me for sure."
"I won't let him." I lifted my chin, trying for self-assurance I didn't feel. "Here's the bargain. If you restore Nevan to his normal state, healing all his wounds and bringing him back to consciousness, I will give you anything you want and I'll stop Nevan from hurting you. Agreed?"
"You sure about this?"
"Quit hemming and hawing."
He gave a curt nod. "I accept your terms."
A tether of power whipped between me and Tris, the unseen ends latching onto us with a jolt. Bargain sealed.
"Do it already," I said. "Uphold your end."
Tris closed his eyes.
Energy roiled off him in coppery, glittering tentacles. They nipped at my skin, zapped into me down to the core of my being. The tentacles gyrated around the three of us, diving into the ground, spewing out of it again, encompassing Nevan until the shimmering energy obscured his entire body, except for the arm I clutched to my breast.
I shut my eyes and prayed, like I never had before. I infused my silent prayers with every ounce of anguish and hope I harbored inside me.
Nevan's hand warmed in mine.
The snapping energy dissipated.
I cracked my eyelids to peek out through my lashes. Nevan rested on the ground as before, but his bronze coloring had returned. His hand in mine had grown warmer, feeding into me that precious, intoxicating heat.
My tears flowed, unfettered.
Tris cleared his throat. "Seeing how my job's done, I'm gonna split. He can get you wherever you need to be."
Without looking away from Nevan, I said, "Okay. Thank you."
"For crying out loud, lady. Gratitude too? You better keep up your end, 'cause if he comes after me, I'm calling in your debt."
He vanished.
Nevan's fingers twitched. I lifted them to my lips and kissed them one by one.
A moan emanated from him.
Was he still injured? Damn that leprechaun. I spread my palms on his chest, running them over his skin in broad circles. The wound was gone. Only the old scar over his heart remained.
My tears splattered onto his chest.
"Why are you crying, love?"
At his words, I burst into a fit of weeping.
Nevan sat up, folding his arms around me, and pulled me onto his lap. I hugged my hands to my chest, burying my face in his neck, and let his heat banish the chill. He stroked my hair and rocked me as he murmured soothing sounds. Gradually, my weeping subsided. He kept rocking me, his arms firm but gentle around my shoulders.
His body squashed my arms to my chest. I wrestled my hands free to hold his face in my palms. "You're alive."
"Was I dead? Didn't feel like it."
"Not quite, but — " His hands traveled down to my hips. I couldn't move my hands, his skin felt too good under them. "It took so long to get you here, to this vortex. I got us away from Brennus, but then I had to find Tris and he needed copper and — "
His fingers kneading my flesh scattered my thoughts.
"It's all right." His voice was a low rumble, unbelievably sexy. "I'm quite impressed you got me here without Skeiron beheading us both." He ran his hands over my shoulders and down my arms — searching for wounds, I supposed. "Did he or Brennus hurt you in any way?"
"I'm fine." I raked my hands up the back of his neck and into his hair, my fingers splayed over his scalp. "How are you?"
"I feel quite well, very alive."
The way he accentuated the last word flashed heat through me, from my lips straight down between my thighs. I wriggled on his lap, relishing the sensation of hard muscle as it rubbed against my aching core. An impulse hit me and I had no willpower left to resist.
I drew his head down to mine and crushed my lips to his. He yielded to me without hesitation, his lips parting for me. I forged deep inside, lost to the sensations of his tongue, his mouth, his hands anchoring my waist. He groaned into my mouth. I devoured him as if our essences could merge through our lips joining and our tongues tangling. I kissed him like nothing else in the universe mattered to me, nothing except him and this heady passion.
He broke the kiss, his flaming eyes locked on mine.
Dazed, I couldn't prevent the words from spilling out unbidden, hushed enough he couldn't have heard. "Rein it in, Lindsey."
He leaped to his feet, carrying me up with him. I landed flat on my feet.
The flashlight's beam sprayed across the ground in a wedge of illumination, aimed right at Nevan. I backed away, bereft from the loss of contact, but I needed to see him, all of him, to be sure.
The flashlight flickered and extinguished. I snatched it up, shook it, thumped the heel of my hand against it. Nothing. I made an unladylike, disgusted noise.
"What is the matter, my sweet mortal morsel?"
"Flashlight's dead. I can't see a thing."
"I can see you." The statement, his teasing but sensual tone, tickled me in the most intimate way.
"You might still be injured. I need to… " How could I phrase this without sounding salacious? Oh hell, who cared. "I need to get a good look at you. Please."
"If you insist."
Balls of light popped into existence in his palms. They swelled into softball-size orbs, bluish and sparkling with the purest white.
Fairy lights.
He tossed them into the air, where they floated above our heads. He conjured a half dozen more, tossing them into the air so we were immersed in the shimmering glow.
And I saw him. All of him.
"Here I am, love," he said, devouring me with his hot gaze. "What will you do with me now?"
21
The fairy lights twinkled above our heads, bathing us both in silvery light. The six feet of space separating us glittered with incandescence, from the droplets of energy showering down from the lights. The air sizzled faintly.
And there, like a mirage in the forest, stood Nevan.
I roamed my gaze up and down his length, soaking in every muscular inch of bare flesh. I'd intended do do nothing more than verify his wounds had healed, but I couldn't stop the heat pooling inside me, low down, in places I'd ignored for far too long. My attention wandered to his chest, that dazzling expanse of bronzed skin. My hands ached to explore him, to map out the contours of his body with my fingertips. I licked my lower lip, slowly, envisioning my tongue on his neck, licking my way down to —
"Are ye quite finished, love?"
Nevan's voice, rife with self-satisfaction, snapped me back to reality. Sort of. The damned fire in my nether regions had coalesced into a deep, throbbing tingle. The sensation robbed me of my breath and stripped away my senses, until I had a hell of a time hauling my mind out of the fantasy. Maybe it didn't have to stay a fantasy. Just for tonight, maybe I could release my fears and dive into Nevan's embrace, into his kiss, into… everything. Maybe.
An
old saying popped into my head, the phrase sailors of the olden days used to describe what lay beyond the horizon — there be monsters here. The ghost of Calder, real or imagined, was my monster. Nevan was my horizon, but I was too chicken to go there.
I folded my arms over my chest, proud of my physical composure in the face of hormone overload, and gestured at him with one finger. "You look fine."
But oh, he looked way better than fine.
A memory exploded in my mind — Nevan, prostrate on the ground, a sword jammed into his chest, blood pouring out. A jolt of dizziness rocked me and I zeroed in on his torso again. Though I saw nothing aside from his scar, not a scratch or scrape, doubt niggled in my gut. "Is the pain gone? Are you sure you're completely healed?"
"I told ye already, I'm quite fine." He flashed a wicked grin. "But hadn't ye better check for yourself? I understand mortals conduct physical examinations after an injury."
"I — well yes, but — " A blush fired up in my cheeks, so hot aliens on distant planets must've spotted the glow. Rein it in, Lindsey. "I'll take your word for it."
Nevan shook his head, rolled his eyes, and sighed. I struggled to hold back a smile. He did "exasperation personified" so well.
Hands clasped behind his back, he began to pace in a circle around me, his strides long and purposeful, fluid and masculine. The hunter stalking his prey. He watched me with each step, and even when he crossed behind me, his gaze flared across my skin, stoking an awareness deep inside. Half of me relished the thought of being the sole focus of his concentration. The other half wanted to bolt, hide, pretend I hadn't broken my own decree that we never kiss again. I'd thrown myself at him in the most humiliating way. I'd done more than kiss him. I'd drowned myself in him.
And lord, had it felt good.
But it was a mistake. Calder had taught me that lesson.
Nevan's footfalls shooshed on the grass, the skin of his ankles glistening with dew. He circled around me again, and again, and again, inching closer with each circuit. The playful sylph had retreated, submerged beneath the ancient warrior. Though I'd glimpsed this part of him a few times, when others provoked him, now I had triggered his feral, possessive instincts.