Faire Justice

by Pillow Michelle M.

  “This ass has been making me hard all day,” he said hotly, his mouth close to her ear. “I’m going to fuck it good until your body is ruined for any other man. Ya are going to be my wench, are ya no’?”

  Before she could answer, he pulled her hips up. His erection slid along the crack of her ass, moving to her pussy once more. He eased it in, as if wetting himself on her cream once more. Her body jerked as he filled her once more. Then, as if satisfied, he drew the tip up to her tight rosette.

  “Mm, sweet virgin ass,” he groaned.

  How did he know? Leda tensed, was it that obvious?

  “My ass,” Calum said possessively. He rocked his hips forward, easing into her, making her body burn at the invasion, taking it much slower than before. “So tight. Ah, that’s it. Relax. Take me in. Ya feel the connection between us.”

  Pleasure soon built, taking away all traces of uncomfortable pressure, as she came again. He kept thrusting, gently at first and then harder as he neared his climax. Heavy breathing came from him, echoing with the sound of her heart racing in her ears. It wasn’t long before he was groaning, jerking his release along with her. He fell forward, trapping her to the rug. She became aware of the tent canvas above them and the dirt floor beneath her cheek. It pressed, hard and unforgiving into her ribs. A soft moan left her lips and she mumbled incoherently, not even sure what it was she was trying to say to him. All she knew is that she felt wonderful.

  Slowly, Calum pushed up. His breathing slowed by degrees, as did hers. Sitting back, he reached to pull her up with him. Leda smiled, reaching to push her hair from her face. Feeling the earpiece stuck in a lock, she wanted to grimace. She tried to be delicate, as she cupped her hand around the device and held it as she adjusted her bodice.

  Calum got dressed, his eyes smiling as he gave her a sated look. Concentrating on getting her earpiece back in, she stood. She slipped it back into her ear.

  ‘… suspect in the tent with you and is armed with a mace. This is confirmed. Armed with mace. Leda, damn it, did you hear me? Leda? You’d better give me a sign.’

  Leda gasped. Her body went from sated to stressed in a millisecond. Did he mean Calum? Shit! Why did she take her earpiece out?

  “My lady?” Calum asked.

  “Ah,” Leda bit her lip. Damn it, why wasn’t Bret talking?

  Come on, Bret, repeat that. Where is the suspect? Who is he?

  Chapter Four

  Calum could barely breathe. The moment had been hard and fast and so not what he thought his first time with her would be like. Still, it had been perfect. Leda was more than he could have hoped for. Maybe there was something to this ‘perfect true mate’ the older wizards had talked about. He never expected it to happen to him so hard and fast. Even yesterday, he would have laughed at the thought of marriage, let alone proposing it. But, he couldn’t deny what he felt. He saw Leda and he was in love.

  Love.

  The emotion flowed through him, as much a part of his soul as his magic was. He knew to trust his powers, his instincts. They screamed that Leda belonged to him, and he to her. Nothing would ever be the same.

  However, the same instinct that told him how right they were together yelled that something was wrong. He saw the look in her eyes—the hesitation, the panic, the worry. She’d enraptured him, to the point he’d thought little beyond getting to know her better. Now sated, his thoughts began to clear and focus. She wasn’t just here looking for a collector’s piece. All was not what it seemed.

  * * * *

  Leda glanced around the tent, her mind racing for a graceful way to get out of the back area and into the main part. If the man with the mace had come in, she needed to find him.

  For the first time in her life, her personal wants warred with her work needs. Duty demanded she find the maniac. Her emotions wanted her to stay until she could make sure she and Calum were on good terms. Running out after sex wasn’t exactly the best way to get a second date.

  Did watching him joust count as a date?

  Why the hell was she thinking about the tournament when she had a serial killer to catch?

  Leda had never been so torn. She knew what she had to do. She couldn’t let the maniac kill again. Calum would have to wait. Just like all the other personal things in her life. She opened her mouth, trying to think of the best thing to say.

  ‘Leda, damn it, I knew you shouldn’t go in there alone. I’m to the east. Try to bump the tent wall so I can see where you’re at.’ Bret was panicked, his voice breaking up some, but not so much that she couldn’t make out the words. ‘We just got confirmation. The man is in the tent with you. He’s one of the knights. I repeat, he’s one of the knights—maybe several of them. You’re in danger.’

  Calum eyed her strangely, but she still couldn’t think of what to say. Bret said the killer was in the tent with her—possibly even right next to her. She returned Calum’s steady gaze, her stomach tight and her mouth suddenly dry. Had she just slept with a mace-wielding maniac? What did she really know about this man? Working for the FBI she knew better than most that you couldn’t pick killers out of a crowd just by appearances. Sociopaths could charm the pants off anyone—possibly even her. She glanced at the ground, the dirt still messed up from where they’d thrusted around in it. What had she done?

  Calum had the strength to commit murder. He had the training with medieval weaponry. He had access to women. According to Madame Sabena they apparently threw themselves at him. Intelligence didn’t turn up a link to Renaissance Faires between the women, but it’s not like these places kept detailed guest lists. The women could have detoured here for various reasons.

  “Do you only,” she motioned weakly along his body, “fight in these tournaments, or do you work elsewhere too?”

  “Only here,” he answered carefully.

  “Does this keep you pretty busy?”

  “Are ya asking if I have the means to take care of ya?” He crossed his arms over his chest, looking like he wanted to smile, but the look didn’t quite make it into his gaze.

  “Take care of me?” Leda swallowed nervously. As in a serious relationship, after one romp in the dirt? Warning bells went off in her logical head, warring with her instinct that still screamed he was for her. Damn. Her grandmother had been right. If she didn’t nurture her gifts, she’d lose them. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I can take care of myself.”

  Is this the part where he’d go crazy? She rejected his all-too-sudden offer of whatever-this-was and he got angry?

  “Ya do no’ look happy,” Calum said, acting as if he’d touch her cheek. Suddenly, he stiffened glancing up. “Ya regret it?”

  “No,” she said, suddenly worried she was going to set off a psycho. This was just her luck. She finally found a man who knew the difference between talk and action and she was going to have to arrest him—or die trying.

  She stiffened, not liking the look on his face.

  “Who are ya with, lass?” he asked. “Ya are no’ here looking for a sword to buy.”

  “With?” she asked weakly. Her heart hammered. He still looked so good and, to her shame, the idea of danger thrilled her adventure-seeking personality. Her nerves tingled, begging her to go to him, to trust him. The war between logic and instinct intensified.

  “Yea, with.” He reached for her earpiece so fast she couldn’t think to stop him. He held it before her between two fingers. “Who are ya with?”

  She swallowed, not wanting to answer. His suspicion only confirmed her worst fear. Calum was a killer. “Those transmit both ways. They can hear you.”

  How did she always manage to attract the crazy ones?

  Calum crushed the earpiece as easily as a marshmallow, dusting it from between his fingers so it sprinkled on the ground. “Ya think I’m a fool because I dress like a knight? I already searched your body. Ya are no’ transmitting anything, love.”

  “If you hurt me …” She backed away. Leda had been trained to take down assailants, but Ca
lum was huge and packed with muscles.

  “Hurt ya?” He snorted in disbelief. “I would never hurt—”

  “Bret!” Leda yelled, knowing there was no way she could take Calum on her own. He was too big, and besides which, he had a sword nearby. Every self-defense move she knew paled in comparison to a skilled swordsman.

  “Bret?” He repeated.

  “Bret!” she yelled again, smacking her hand against the side of the tent.

  “Ya bitch!” Calum thundered. “Ya would be on his team, wouldn’t ya?”

  How did Calum know about the FBI’s teams?

  Leda reacted, moving to punch Calum in an effort to bring him down. Just like she’d feared, he didn’t even flinch. She panicked. Her blow should’ve done something, but he absorbed it like a superhuman. Swinging her leg, she kicked him again. He caught her arm on her way around and held out his fist like he wanted to punch her and then stopped.

  “Ya just can’t leave us supernatural’s be, can ya? Does your man know ya were in here fucking me?”

  Supernatural?

  Oh. My. Gawd! The man really is crazy.

  She jerked her hand away, ready to fight to the death.

  “Where’s your mace, you psycho?” she demanded. “Can’t kill a girl without your precious mace, can you?”

  He frowned. Then, before she could go on, his eyes began to get an eerie glow. They filled with blue neon, shining with an impossible inner light. She gasped, falling away from him.

  Supernatural?

  Now she was the crazy one.

  She shook her head. None of her training with the FBI prepared her for this. Nor did her meager experience as a mild psychic. Recognizing the enhanced abilities of the human mind was a big leap away from the existence of non-human supernatural beings with glowing eyes.

  “Calum?” a man asked, coming to the door. She looked, only to see the man he’d called Thomas. The stout man glanced first at her and then Calum. Instantly, Thomas’ eyes began to glow as well, only his were slightly red in tone.

  “What are you?” Leda asked, backing toward the tent wall.

  “Watch out!” Calum yelled and she wasn’t sure who he was talking to.

  The sound of a long, hard rip echoed over her and the tent exploded into a chaotic symphony of movement. Calum lunged forward. Thomas fell into step a second behind him. A hand grabbed her from behind, jerking her through the torn canvas of the tent. Leda let loose a small yelp of surprise.

  “Leda,” Bret said, pulling her roughly to her feet when she stumbled. They were hidden from the rest of the fairground. “Run!”

  “Where’s backup?” she asked, automatically following his lead around the side of the tent as they took off into the thinning crowd. Evening encroached in a brilliant display of magentas and golds. Bret wore period clothing like the rest of them, but he didn’t look at ease in the tunic shirt and tight hose. A telltale bulge at his hip indicated he carried a gun. The clean cut of his short hair and well-groomed appearance of his face made him the perfect poster child for the American justice system. Normally, he could be found in dark suits and his favorite blue and grey tie.

  “I told you this already, they left,” Bret answered. “You were supposed to give a sign if you needed them to stay. Where’s your earpiece? What happened in there? Did they attack you? Your clothes are stained. Did you find out who …?”

  He wove through a couple display booths and they ignored the confused looks of those they passed. Leda glanced over her shoulder as they slowed to a brisk walk to blend better. Calum’s hot gaze burned on hers. She felt his anger pouring out of him as he watched them run away.

  They disappeared into the crowd. She fell into stride next to Bret. “What do you mean they left? That’s not proper procedure. The team wouldn’t—”

  “Let’s get to safety first,” he ordered. “Any of these freaks could be in on it with them.”

  * * * *

  “Calum?” Thomas made a move to run after Bret and Leda.

  “Da,” Calum put his arm on his to stop him. “Get the uncles. We’ll go after them smart.”

  “I can no’ believe she’s with Breton.” Thomas swore venomously in their old tongue, the Gaelic curses coming as easily as English after all their years of living. “How did he find us? We’ve kept our presence cloaked. The whole Renaissance Faire is protected.” Thomas glared, an old anger rising inside him to feed Calum’s.

  “They’ll never give up,” Calum said flatly, “no’ until we’re dead. For them, the war will never be over.”

  “I can no’ believe she was with him,” Thomas stated again, his disbelief evident. “I did no’ feel it in her. How could she, a mortal, join the side of those who’d imprison her kind?”

  “Ya felt the surge of Breton’s magic keeping us back when he tore through the tent. He’s protecting her. She’s working for him.” Calum’s rage boiled. How could he have been such a fool? Love? Even now, his heart broke over her. Every ounce of him wanted to erase the entire day. If he convinced the others, they could do it. He’d forget Leda existed. Unfortunately, they’d also forget Breton had paid them a visit.

  “Mayhap it’s no’ what ya think,” Thomas soothed. “Mayhap she is misled. She seemed frightened by our eyes.”

  “She did look worried when I mentioned being supernatural,” Calum admitted reluctantly.

  “What did she mean about a mace?”

  “I intend to find out,” Calum motioned his father toward the back of the tent so they could slip out through the hole Breton had made. If the damned English wizard wanted to renew the war right here in New York state, then so be it. “Get the uncles. We’re going hunting.”

  “Go in with your head,” Thomas warned. “Ya always act rash when it comes to those ya care about. Ya need to hear her side of things.”

  “What makes ya think I care for her?” Calum asked, trying hard to block all tender feelings inside him.

  Thomas gave a short laugh. “Because we’re connected, lad, and I ken well the look of love when a wizard’s found his bride. Ya chose her, for better or worse, and her mark on your soul and your magic is there for all to see. It’s too late for ya.”

  “Magic help me,” Calum whispered, leading the way to get the others.

  Chapter Five

  “Shouldn’t we call for backup?” Leda pressed her fingertips hard against the stitch in her side. Bret had taken them on a strange, haphazard path through the fairgrounds. He’d finally stopped in the dense underbrush near the tree line.

  “Phone’s dead,” Bret answered curtly.

  “Why are you carrying a gun? I thought you said our orders were to go in unarmed because of the civilian element.” Leda didn’t necessarily understand the order at the time, but she’d obeyed it. “You said this was just to gather intelligence and we weren’t to make a move against the killer if we found him.”

  “Like I’d go into a nest of freaks without my gun,” Bret snorted. “Besides, you know I have your back. I’m not letting either one of us go into a dangerous situation without being prepared.”

  “Can we drop the freak talk?” Leda peaked through the brush and watched the crazy woman spouting off about a dragon attack walk by. “These people aren’t freaks. They’re just …”

  “No need to get all sensitive.” Bret defended, only to add under his breath, “I didn’t mean to insult your boyfriend’s people.”

  Leda took a deep breath, keeping her eyes off him. There was no way he could know what she’d done. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Uh-huh,” he muttered.

  That time Leda did turn. Having decided on her lie, she ran with it unflinchingly. “I was flirting with him to gain access to the tent to look for a mace. It seems my instincts were right. The killer was in there. You said so yourself.”

  “And that’s why you took out your earpiece?”

  “They saw it. I had no choice. Besides, the transmission was breaking up. I could barely hear you.” With the equipmen
t broken on the tent floor, there would be no way to disprove what she said. “Would you mind telling me what’s going on now that I can hear you clearly? Why did our backup leave?”

  “I told them to. It’s getting late and they all have families to get to.”

  “We have a job to do,” Leda defended. “That doesn’t make sense. They wouldn’t just leave. Not on this case.”

  “I didn’t see any reason to believe they needed to stay later because you were busy getting it on with a murder suspect.” Bret scowled. “I did it to protect you. That’s what partners do.”

  Leda gasped at the certainty in his expression. “Then who told you they were our suspects?”

  “If you want all the answers, maybe don’t ignore me next time I’m giving them to you. I don’t have time to go into everything. Here’s the situation. We’re the only ones here. The guys think it’s a bust and are on their way home. The knights are in on it and we’ve got to get moving. We’ve got to do some recon. You know as well as I do that killers usually escalate between kills.” He paused, reaching out to touch her shoulder. “This could make our careers, Leda. What do you say? Do we go the extra mile and take this chance? Will you help me bring down a murderer?”

  Why couldn’t the guys be called back to the fair? Whoever had alerted Bret could tell the others. Why couldn’t they run to the parking lot and drive away? Or at least hook his phone up to the jack so they had enough power to call headquarters? Why was Bret looking at her like that? Like she’d whored herself for the sake of the department? As if she was beneath him.

  So many tiny holes filled Bret’s explanation of things. She thought to question him, but Leda’s arm tingled where he touched her, not pleasant, but influencing. She couldn’t trust her instincts, not after they led her down such a wanton path. Instead, she had to trust in her FBI training.