My Faire Lord: A Renaissance Flair - Book 1

by C. A. Storm

  Swiftly, if a tad regretfully, Sam grabbed one of Evie’s wrists, digging her fingers into the tendons to keep the hand immobile as she twisted it while she planted the toe of her boot against the woman’s exposed throat. Sam only distantly noted that there was a strange black mark on the inside of Evie’s wrist, but she didn’t have time to focus on it as she glared down at the gasping woman who had threatened her happy ending. All of her happy endings!

  Tossing her head to clear her eyes of the snarls of hair torn free of her ponytail, Sam yanked just hard enough on the arm to drive home her point as she tapped her booted toe against Evie’s jugular. “I’m Irish and we fight fucking dirty. Submit or lose your gods damned arm!”

  The wild hatred burning in Evie’s eyes caused them to glint with a feral light. Combined with the dangerously long claws the woman was wielding, claws that gleamed blackly and seemed to be oozing a viscous, luminescent green goo, and the Superskank had gone from pretty and confident to spooky and downright evil in the blink of an eye.

  Instead of answering, Evie raked her other hand across Sam’s thigh, clawing at Sam’s leg. Her talons shredded the jeans easily, scoring against Sam’s skin. Reflexively, Sam was about to yank her leg away, to try and get out of the reach of those creepy looking claws, when Bertie’s voice boomed, “Don’t let go! You’ll be fine!”

  Gritting her teeth, waiting to feel the hot, slicing pain of her flesh parting like so much butter beneath a lightsaber, Sam pressed her foot down against Evie’s throat, cutting off the Sidhe’s air supply as she twisted the arm she had captured—keeping clear of the flailing fingers and those icky claws on that hand—until she heard a loud POP as she dislocated the woman’s arm.

  A piercing screech sounded, tearing free from Evie’s throat as her body spasmed in pain. Sam instinctively released her grip and jerked back, startled—and that probably saved her life.

  Sam’s eyes widened as she saw the blackened scorch mark where she had been standing. Part of Evie’s right arm had been entirely obliterated, leaving the woman screaming and writhing in pain as she clutched the cauterized remains of her arm against her chest. A loud crashing sound echoed through the amphitheater, drawing Sam’s attention to where Bertie had landed atop a hysterically cackling Mona.

  Even with Bertie’s massive clawed hand wrapped around her lower face, his monstrous body pinning her to the ground, Mona laughed maniacally as the amphitheater erupted into chaos.

  Everything happened at once.

  Killian was at Evie’s side, a hand resting on her forehead as he pulsed with a deep indigo aura, shoving it into her body as it stabbed deeply into the sickly jade veins streaking her flesh.

  Rik was surrounding Sam, pulling her into his arms and holding her tight against his chest as his own brilliant, sunlit aura slammed around them in a metallic, razor sharp barrier. Just outside the glowing barrier, Sam’s father, brothers, Clara, and Rik’s troupe were in a perfect circle, all facing outward and instinctively forming a second ring of protection around her.

  Mona’s body melted into a noxious green gas, the echoes of her laughter still ringing as the mist was carried away on the fierce winds of the storm raging overhead.

  Lightning battered the Rockies, brilliant flashes in a suddenly midnight dark sky, as Bertie threw his head back and roared in frustration as his prey slipped from his grasp.

  And Sam?

  She pressed her cheek against Rik’s warm chest. The sound of his heartbeat, loud and fierce as it pounded madly within his strong body, soothed her as much as the feel of his powerful arms around her. Safe. She was safe.

  She passed the fuck out.

  Chapter 34

  Rik freaked the fuck out when Sam passed out against his chest. He felt her body go limp, looked down to see her face pale and drawn, and his sanity completely deserted him. Reaching deeper into himself than he ever had before, tapping into depths he had never needed to, Rik clawed for every ounce of power his personal glamour would grant him, and then he pulled more.

  The Sidhe have many magics available to them, could perform feats Mortals couldn’t even dream of, but their powers were limited—by necessity—by their Oaths. It was Law. Unbreakable. Coded into their very beings by the Tuatha who had birthed them. Luckily for Rik, every law had a loophole, every Oath had those unspoken words that could be twisted and used by those clever enough to hear them.

  Every Sidhe of Clan Leon had one Oath in common—Noblese Oblige, the Noble’s Obligation. The clan had taken the lion as their symbol during the reign of King Richard the First, Cœur de Lyon, the Lionheart, and Oathbound themselves as Defenders of the Heart. Jean-Paul refused to discuss exactly what events led him to serving under King Richard, only saying the clan owed Richard a great debt, and in honor to his friend, took the name Leon to honor his fallen Mortal friend.

  It was this oath, the oath to defend their loved ones, to be willing to sacrifice in the name of love, that Rik gave himself over to. If Sam died, he would follow her into whatever afterlife waited.

  The Village had first aid stations, but off-season there was no one to man them. The Estates did not have any medical personnel on staff, and amongst the Uncanny, only the witches had much experience as healers. True Healers, those capable of using magic to enact miracles, were rare and often kept their gifts to themselves, or risk being overwhelmed by demands—or in some cases, being stolen away and forced into servitude.

  Rik knew of only one true Healer, one whom he could trust without any shadows of doubt, who would help him without demanding an unpayable debt. The thing was, he had not seen or spoken to her in over fifty years, and she lived almost halfway around the World.

  Incandescent with desperate power, Rik Travelled.

  Space. Time. Concepts that the truly powerful knew how to bend. Some few Fae could call upon glamour to let them travel great distances in an instant, even stepping into the Otherworlds—feats that usually required permanent portals, and something even fewer could do without.

  In the blink of an eye, Rik stood in the shadows of an entirely different mountain range. The sun was setting in the west, the air thin, cool, and crisp with the scent of pine. Before him stood an enormous chalet, made of ancient river stones and cedar logs, the windows blazing with light. Staggering up the steps, carefully cradling the unconscious Sam in his arms, Rik kicked open the heavy wooden door without a second thought, shouting for the one healer he knew he could trust.

  “MOTHER!”

  The sound of footsteps pounding echoed from deeper in the house, and suddenly Rik was confronted by a number of individuals, only two of whom he actually recognized. It was only when he saw those shocked faces illuminated by a brilliant light, Rik realized the light was him. The flesh of his body, every exposed inch of it, was luminescent with pure golden light—a light he couldn’t seem to control.

  Shrugging off the revelation he was glowing, Rik took another step forward, toward the tall, beautiful woman flanked on one side by his uncle, and on the other by two young men, little more than boys, that both glared at him with scorn.

  Again, inconsequential. Eyes locked on his mother, Rik begged. “My…anam cara. She…fought Evie. Something happened. Help. Please, Maman? Please?”

  To say Victoria LaCour-Leon was shocked to see her eldest child glowing like the sun, standing in the foyer of her home, clutching an unconscious Mortal woman in his arms, would be woefully underestimating the sheer shock she felt. At his words, however, she sprang into action, barking orders like a general.

  Rushing to Rik, Victoria reached out and placed a gentle hand lightly on Sam’s forehead. Without looking away, Victoria barked out to her husband, “Wil, go outside and make sure everything is okay. We don’t need anyone coming up to see what the lightshow was about, oui?”

  Lifting her gaze from Sam’s pale face, Victoria turned to her two youngest sons, both of whom were still glowering at Rik as only teenaged boys could. Snapping her fingers at them, she commanded, “Chance, Geoffre
y, stop glaring at your brother! Come help him get his cara upstairs to their room. Toot suite! Now!”

  Turning back to her eldest, Victoria gently rested a hand on his glowing arm. Speaking softly as she gazed up into the wild, terrified expression on his face, she soothed, “It will be okay, Rik. Maman is here, I will take care of your cara. Come. Let’s get her upstairs, make her comfortable, oui?”

  Nodding mutely, Rik silently let his mother and brothers guide him up to the second floor of the chalet, into a room that looked oddly familiar. He dimly noted that his glow was dying down, fading like the setting sun, as he very, very gently laid Sam on the large bed in the room.

  He would have stood over her, looking down at her, for who knows how long, until his mother guided him to sit on the other side of the bed. “Here, lay down next to her. She will be comforted by your presence. All will be well, mon petit fils.”

  Hunh, Rik thought, his brain churning sluggishly. She hasn’t called me that in years. As he stretched out on the bed beside Sam, he took her hand in his, laying on his side and staring at her face.

  The rest of the world faded away along with the glow coming from his body. Come back to me, baby. Please. Rik gently squeezed her hand, his heart easing as he felt a gentle squeeze back—and then he passed the fuck out from exhaustion.

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  Jerking awake, Rik yelled hoarsely, “Samantha!”

  “What?” Ooph, someone was grumpy. “Sleepy.” Yep, definitely grumpy.

  Head jerking to the side, Rik saw a squinty-eyed Sam glaring at him through one eye as she lay curled on her side of the bed. Jumping out of bed, Rik rushed to the other side, throwing aside the blankets so he could check her over, make sure she was okay.

  Seeing her beautiful body, her creamy, freckled flesh exposed except for a wisp of cotton boy shorts, Rik’s brain migrated south to its second home. He would have stood there, staring at her bared breasts and counting those freckles of hers, if she hadn’t thrown a pillow—hard—into his face before she yanked the blanket back up to cover herself.

  “Hey! Sleepy!” Sam growled ferociously at him, although it was muffled by the thick duvet she had burrowed beneath.

  A giggle had Rik turning to find his mother standing in the door to the room, a tray in her hands. “It seems I have arrived just in the nick of time, oui? Coffee and croissants, perhaps?”

  Rik stared at his mother blankly for a few moments, his brain struggling to finally catch up with the here and now. His mother looked good. Her dark gold hair was cut in a stylish bob, and the look on her face—Rik blinked, he had never seen his mother look so downright giddy. Like, little girl getting a pony for Christmas giddy. And Rik knew that look, he’d seen it on both his little sisters’ faces before.

  Clearing his throat, Rik nodded and shook his head. Yes, both nod and shake, an affirmative and then trying to clear the remaining cobwebs out. “Oui, Maman, yes, please.” He grinned suddenly, glancing down at Sam, who was eyeing the coffee pot like it was the Holy Grail. “My cara is not a morning person.”

  Grinning wide enough his face hurt, Rik winked at his glaring cara before turning serious and looking back at his mother, who was setting the tray on the table next to Sam.

  “Is she all right?”

  Victoria watched with amusement as Sam poured herself a cup of coffee, nodding as she glanced up at her worried son. “Oui, she was just exhausted. A little sleep was all she needed.” Pursing her lips, she gave the coffee-guzzling redhead a sidelong glance, before she gave Rik a grin. “Same with you, apparently. That little trip took a lot out of you, my son.”

  Sam spit out the coffee as she stared at Victoria, then turned accusing eyes up at Rik. “Your mother? You’re introducing me to your mother, and I’m half-naked, in bed?”

  Holding up his hands, Rik took a precautionary step back out of reach as he stifled another grin that would probably get his ass handed to him. “Sorry, ma petite flamme, I wasn’t exactly thinking straight when you swooned in my arms. I just needed to get you to a Healer, and my mother is the best there is, so…” He rubbed the back of his neck as he gave her a sheepish grin, “Um, what do you think about a honeymoon in the French Alps?”

  Sam opened her mouth. Shut it. Opened it. Shut it. Shook her head. Drank her coffee. And glared at him. Oh, such a glaring.

  Victoria leaned up and flicked Rik’s ear. Hard. “Behave, you lout. You be nice to my enceinte fille-belle-fille!”

  Rubbing his ear, feeling much like a child once more, Rik muttered, “Oui, Maman.” Then he blinked. He swayed on his feet. He sat down on the edge of the bed and put his head between his knees as he struggled to not pass out.

  “Score one for Mama Leon! She’s definitely your mother,” Sam said smugly. “Only a mom can take someone down like that with a few words.”

  “Wait,” Rik looked up, panicked. “Should she be drinking coffee in her state?”

  “My state? Jeez,” Sam muttered as she clutched her coffee cup protectively and glared at him. Again. “I was just tired. I mean, someone kept me up all night, then I had to fight off his skanky ex-girlfriend, then explosions, magic, mayhem. Give a girl a break!”

  Rik just stared at Sam. Speechless.

  Gently resting a hand on Sam’s shoulder, Victoria leaned in and whispered something into her ear. Sam nodded, then stopped. Blinked. Looked at Victoria in shock. Glared at Rik. He could see it happen. The moment understanding hit her. The instant that temper of hers blazed to life. He swallowed hard and lifted his chin. He would face his death with dignity.

  “PREGNANT? YOU KNOCKED ME UP?”

  Chapter 35

  Rik sat on the edge of the bed, his face conveying confusion, guilt, elation, and pure, smug masculine satisfaction. Sam also noted that he looked exhausted, heavy shadows beneath glassy eyes, his jaw scruffy, and he had obviously slept in his clothes.

  Torn between the urge to kiss him silly and throw something at him, Sam huffed and puffed, "You're lucky coffee is sacred, you potent son-of-a..." She paused, eying his mother—his mother, standing beside the bed and beaming with such sincere joy, Sam couldn't help but melt a little bit—as she corrected, "Sidhe. Son-of-a-Sidhe."

  Rik's mother laughed, a bright, tinkling sound that drew a reluctant smile from Sam, as the older woman—who looked no older than either of her daughters, dagnabbit—rested a delicate hand on Sam's shoulder. "It's okay, chère. You two should talk. I am just happy you are both here, and safe."

  Leaning down, she gave Sam a kiss on both cheeks before she glided toward Rik. Grasping both his cheeks in her hands, she pressed a tender kiss against his forehead before she bustled out the door, closing it quietly behind her.

  Sam stared at Rik as she slowly drank her coffee. Mmm, so good! She groaned aloud, eyes sliding closed as she savored the rich, dark brew perfectly prepared, with a thick, rich foam and just enough sugar to cut the bitterness. And it was served in a massive mug. Perfection!

  "Baby," Rik's voice was low, rough, "You can't make that sound while you're in bed, and not expect me to pounce."

  Oops.

  Blushing furiously, still clutching her coffee protectively, Sam opened her eyes to meet Rik's heated gaze, which was currently fixated on her lips as she licked away the foam.

  Oops.

  When Rik made to act on his threat, Sam held up The Hand. "Oh, no, no, no! You've got some 'splaining to do, Rikard-o."

  "If I'm Rikky Rikardo, does that make you Lucy?" Rik teased, his large hand somehow managing to locate her ankle beneath the thick duvet.

  "Uh, no," Sam shot that shit down, hard, though she had to fight the urge to giggle. The jerk was trying to distract her!

  "No pouncing, no Lucy jokes, no nookie," Sam said firmly.

  "Fine," Rik chuckled, then turned serious as he met her eyes. Taking a deep breath, he began, "So, I'm a Sidhe..." He trailed off, blinking at a sudden thought before he gave Sam a suspicious look, "Which you apparently already know."

  Oops.

/>   Sam gave a reluctant nod. "Yeah, I do. Apparently, I inherited the Sight, which has been in my family for many generations. My glasses keep me from seeing things, but without them, I see magic and stuff."

  "How long have you known?" Oh, that tone was flat.

  Squirming, trying to make it look like she was just getting comfortable, Sam looked down into her coffee. "Um, pretty much since that first day. I told Clara that first evening while we were having dinner and discussing the Landsmaster position."

  Sam scowled. Looking up, her tone was flat this time as she said, "You know, the position that you didn't want me for because you wanted to give it to my ex-fiancé."

  And this time, it was Rik's turn to look sheepish. Rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, the other lightly rubbing his thumb along the inside of her ankle—and damned if that didn't feel incredible—he coughed. "Honestly, it's a bit more complicated than that, but considering how big the Estates are, I figured I'd just give you both the position. His resume came to me from someone whose recommendation was more of an order."

  Rik looked thoughtful for a moment, "I'm still not completely sure what's going on with that, but we'll work it out."

  "You want me to work with my ex-fiancé?" Sam sputtered.

  Rik shrugged and grinned, "Hey, at least your ex hasn't tried to challenge me to a duel, or try to kill me. Besides, why would you want a puppy like that when you've already claimed my hand?"

  Eyebrows wagging salaciously, Rik wriggled the fingers on his left hand at her. "That reminds me. When are you going to make an honest man out of me? I mean, you won the hand of your fair ford and saved me from a Fate worse than death."

  Rik must have seen the panic on her face—okay, she really had to work on hiding her thoughts better—because his wicked grin turned understanding.

  "It's okay, baby, I know it's quick. Hell, we've only known each other for a week, and this whole anam cara thing is new to you. There's no rush."