Lord of the Hunt

by Shona Husk

  She looked at him for a few heartbeats, as if she didn’t understand the question. “For the same reason you do, I think. At Court I do what is required and what is expected…but here, with you, none of that matters.” She drew in a deep breath and tipped her face to the sunlight filtering through the branches of the trees. “I am just me and you are just you. It’s easy.”

  Easy. Was that it? Is that why he was craving these times, because it was easy and he didn’t have to be anyone except himself?

  “And if I asked you the same question?” She raised one eyebrow as she moved toward a sunny clearing big enough for him to lay down his cloak.

  “I want to be with you and I can’t do that at Court, yet.” Maybe never. He should be making plans, alliances, and working out what he was going to do after the power shift, but he cared less and less. All he wanted was Taryn.

  She watched him, as if weighing his answer. “I want you too.” She beckoned him forward.

  He used a little magic to gather fallen leaves to soften the ground, then took off his cloak and spread it over. A perfect place to spend a mortal afternoon while Annwyn slept. He sat down and let the tension of Court dramas fade. The weight would be there waiting for him to pick it up later. There would be plots to unravel, the mortal world to watch over, and the Queen to avoid, the same as always. He relaxed onto his back.

  Taryn didn’t sit next to him; she sat on him. Straddling him, her dress pooled around her. “Do you know where we are this time?”

  “Yosemite.” He only knew the name because he’d had to clear up a Grey problem here a few years ago, maybe ten years ago. It was so easy to lose track of mortal time. Humans and a small gang of Greys looking to make trouble were never a good mix. Those Greys were now much further north and well away from civilization.

  She smiled. “I’ve been here before.”

  Damn. He’d been hoping to take her to places she’d never been. “I didn’t realize.”

  “So you do know places closer to towns.”

  “Very few.” And they weren’t the places he really wanted to take her, but she’d asked. “I don’t come across the veil to share you.” He drew her down for her kiss, but he wasn’t just bringing her across the veil for sex—although sex with her was different than the calculated couplings at Court. With Taryn, no one was keeping score and she wasn’t going to screw a deal out of him. And he didn’t want one from her; that she was here was enough. He started undoing her dress, wanting to feel her skin against his.

  She pulled the dress over her head and tossed it to the side. His fingers traced over her stomach and around each breast. She shivered and her nipples hardened into tight peaks that needed to be touched. He sat up and took one in his mouth. She arched her back, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He liked the press of her nails. It wasn’t done to leave a mark or prove a point. Her fingers flexed against him depending on what he did, her reactions natural and unforced. She wanted him to know when she was enjoying something, and she responded to his touch. It was as if they made their own magic when they were together.

  With a final lick, he released her. But she didn’t release him. Her fingers pushed into his hair, tugging out the binding so his hair fell free; then she tipped his chin up so she could claim his lips. Her hips moved and his shaft pressed against his pants. There was entirely too much fabric between them, and she seemed to agree, her hands sliding under his shirt.

  He rolled her over and stripped off his clothes.

  “You swear that bears aren’t going to find us?”

  “I swear.” Although he probably would have promised anything right then as he lay over her, both of them naked. If any human did stumble into the clearing, they wouldn’t see anything; they’d just have a strong urge to leave. Mortals couldn’t see fairies unless the fairies let them—and even then most didn’t show their true face. It suited their purpose to not be seen right now.

  She slid one leg over his hip. “You’re just saying that.”

  He eased forward, his shaft pressing against her waiting sex. “You aren’t exactly rushing away.” He kissed her before she could speak again. He didn’t care if a family of bears ambled into the clearing—not that they would. The forest was quiet, and there was very little wildlife around. He wasn’t careless with their safety in either world. “If you want to see bears, we could go somewhere else.” He pretended to draw back, knowing she’d stop him.

  Her other leg hooked over his thigh. “Here’s fine.”

  She reached for him, her fingers feathering over his shaft as he watched. Her lips parted a little, a smile curving the corners as though she were a forest nymph free of all responsibilities. Maybe that was just what he wanted, to know what it was to be truly free again. He moved closer, sinking into her. For the moment, he was free of everything and everyone except Taryn and his desire to be alone with her.

  While she admitted to needing these breaks from Court, he couldn’t. It went against everything he’d worked for. It was much easier to lose himself in her and pretend that he came here to be with her. She was the reason he was craving more than what the Court offered.

  She was his craving.

  Taryn moved with him and the sound of skin on skin filled the air. She moaned against his lips, her hips lifting to meet every thrust, her fingers digging into his skin. He nipped at her lip, and she responded in kind. Her breaths shortened, and she urged him faster. He gave her what she wanted, holding back until her core tightened around him and she came. Then he let himself slide over the edge to drown in pleasure.

  ***

  The bed of leaves tickled her back even through the dark cloak spread over them. Every movement made the makeshift mattress rustle. Verden lay next to her, with one arm over his eyes to shield them from the glare of the sun, which had moved. He was thinking, and she knew what he was thinking about.

  He’d told her about his run-in with the Queen. Just hearing about it had been enough to make her heart clench in fear. But all her doubts about sneaking off vanished when she was in his arms in the mortal world. Here, she saw who Verden was when he wasn’t hiding behind the mask of Hunter. She rolled onto her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows, stretching out in the dappled sunlight.

  He’d assured that no bears would disturb them, but Yosemite had bears, and deer and all kinds of things. Wondering about wildlife wasn’t particularly relaxing—not that she’d been thinking about wildlife as they’d given into the lust that was becoming harder and harder to keep locked away.

  “There is a café down the hill a bit I believe.” This was as close to home and the familiar as she’d come, and she didn’t want to let the opportunity slip by without seeing people and eating normal food and feeling like the world as she knew it still existed. In Annwyn, it was easy to forget there was more across the veil.

  “We just ate.” Verden opened one eye.

  She was tired of the elegant dinners, and she was sick of Court food. The fruit and what they called cake. She craved the sugar and salt of the mortal world. Soft drinks and chocolate and meat. She’d convinced Verden to take her through a doorway that was close to civilization because she wanted him to see her world and realize there was so much more than deals and games. She wanted to see him in her world. As much as she loved the wilds and being with him, she wanted to see if they could play at being human together.

  “We ate at Court hours ago.” Since then they’d been entertaining themselves. She plucked a leaf from his hair and tossed it away. At least no keen hiker had stumbled across them. “Can we just go and see?”

  “You want to spend the little time we have together surrounded by humans?”

  “It’s called a date. Usually men take women out to dinner before jumping into bed.”

  “Is that how they win affection?” He reached out and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

  She leaned into his touch and let herself be pulled into a semi-embrace. “It’s how people gauge interest and compatibi
lity.”

  “I’m interested. I’m interested every time I see you.” He took her hand and placed it over his hardening shaft.

  “I’ve noticed.” She bit her lip; she didn’t think she was asking too much from him. “I want to be able to sit down and have a meal with you and not hide what I feel. I want to be able to talk to you without wondering who will overhear.” This was the test: could they have a real relationship? She twisted around to look at him.

  “I want that.” There was a silent but.

  She waited. She was aware of his breathing, the lift and fall of his chest against her, and the cooling of their skin. She’d have never lain naked in the forest with a human, yet with Verden it felt right—because it was all they had. She hoped she was wrong and there was more than sex and magnetic attraction.

  “I’ve never eaten human food,” he said finally.

  “What?”

  “I don’t spend any time around humans.”

  “How can you not spend time around them when you patrol the mortal world?”

  He looked up at her, the sunlight and leaves making patterns on his skin. “I don’t patrol. I simply monitor fairy activity in the mortal world. I relocate Greys, and stop those who choose to live here from making excessive trouble for humans. I am the King’s law in the mortal world. The rest of the time I’m at Court. I’ve been there nearly my whole life. I’ve never had time to dabble with humans, as I was too busy trying to secure my position and, once there, holding it and doing what was required. My life belongs to the Court.”

  She didn’t know what to say. Had he ever really lived and had fun? “This is where my life is.”

  “You don’t want to live at Court?”

  She shook her head. The longer she spent there, the more she disliked it. He was quiet again and she knew he was thinking what she had already considered. This was fun, but at some point it would it end. He was a Court fairy and she wasn’t. She eased away, not wanting to hear him say it. She just had to enjoy what little they had without reaching for more.

  “Forget I asked. It was a stupid idea.” She reached for her discarded clothes.

  He moved and caught her hand. “No it wasn’t. Let’s have the meal we could never have at Court.”

  ***

  Dressed, they let themselves be visible to mortals. Their clothing was wrong, but a little fairy magic would convince anyone who saw them that they were nothing more than another couple of hikers. Few would bother to look closer for the simple reason mortals didn’t expect fairies to walk among them.

  They had found a trail and then walked down the hill to the little village. Village might be generous, as it had a general store, a post office, a tiny museum, and a couple places to eat. Verden watched as people milled about, talking in groups; some walked past and snapped photos of the scenery.

  He followed Taryn into a shop where she scanned a board, then turned to face him. Her eyes were bright and she looked relaxed, more relaxed than he’d ever seen her.

  “What do you want?”

  He looked at the board, but it was all scribbles to him. “I don’t know.”

  She gave him a questioning look but said nothing.

  He shrugged. “Surprise me.”

  It would all be a surprise. He couldn’t read the board. Most fairies couldn’t read; it was a very human thing to do.

  “Two burgers with the works, fries, and medium lemonades.”

  The man rang up the total, and Taryn handed over two leaves which the human accepted as money without even blinking. Verden bit back the grin. She’d been so worried about pulling that trick off, but as he’d pointed out on the walk down, if she didn’t do it, then there would be no meal. Besides, she was old enough to be doing simple tricks, and it’s not as though anyone was getting hurt. No one was going to lose their soul or get caught in a deal. It was just an extension of the glamour they were using to hide what they were.

  They moved away from the counter and waited. She opened up a pile of papers that was sitting on a table.

  “Wow.” She pointed to something near the top. “I’ve been away over a month.”

  “Time moves differently.”

  “I know…I just didn’t think it was that different.” She looked at the first page, then turned to the next one. “That’s not good. Golden staph outbreaks in hospitals and an antibiotic resistance TB strain.” She flicked another page. “It’s like the first sign of the apocalypse. Are you reading any of this?”

  “No.”

  She turned her head a fraction, puzzlement in her eyes and in the way her eyebrows pinched together. “It’s important. Maybe related to”—she lowered her voice—“Annwyn.”

  Oh, it was definitely related to Annwyn. The breakdown of power was bleeding across the veil. But it wasn’t the bad news that bothered him. It was his inability to read, something that had never worried him before. Yet now it did. While Taryn fit into this world, he didn’t. He’d seen it but never lived in it.

  For a moment he considered not saying anything, but he didn’t want to lie to Taryn. “I can’t read.” Her lips parted, but he spoke before she could and defended his lack of skill. “I’ve never needed to learn.”

  She nodded. “I guess most of the Court can’t read.”

  “You’d be guessing right.”

  The man rang a bell and she picked up the tray of food, and they went back outside to sit. Over the road, little gray squirrels scampered over the grass and up the tree.

  “Do you have any idea how guilty I feel right now?” she whispered.

  “Fairies have been doing things like that for as long as money has been around. It’s not like we carry coins.” Gems, silver or gold, silks, and other fine objects were usually traded. More often it was intangibles, which meant being very careful with the wording of what was being agreed to. Never make a deal in haste, as it would come back to haunt.

  “It’s paper money now.” She corrected as she popped a fry in her mouth, then licked the salt off her fingers, her tongue darting out for a moment. He knew what that tongue felt like when applied to skin. Just watching her enjoy the food was worthwhile. “Try some.”

  He unwrapped the burger. It certainly wasn’t elegant like Court food. Plant, meat, and cheese hung out the sides. It was rather unappetizing. Then he looked at Taryn and she was eating as though it was the first good meal she’d had since arriving at Court. He could do this for her—if he took the meat out.

  He opened up the bun and pulled out the dead flesh, then closed it back up and took a bite. It was worse than it looked, but he chewed and swallowed and wished he had a glass of berry wine to wash it down with. He settled for the soft drink. While he’d braced for something terrible, it was pleasant. Bubbly and sweet.

  “I have missed this so much.” She popped more fries in her mouth and made a sound that previously he’d only heard her make when they were alone and naked.

  This meal was making her so happy. He tried to be more enthusiastic. It couldn’t be that bad; it was just different. After a couple more bites, he’d decided it really was that bad and he couldn’t eat any more. Instead, he concentrated on the drink.

  She noticed. “You don’t like it.”

  “It’s different.” He really didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

  “And you don’t eat meat. I didn’t even ask. Do you want something else?”

  “It’s fine. There is no meat at Court; we don’t eat dead things.”

  She paused about to take another bite. “Does that mean I shouldn’t be eating it? Is there a reason?”

  He shook his head. “Not that I know of, just that meat isn’t served in Annwyn. We don’t eat death. When we hunt, it’s for status and the kill it is returned to the earth.”

  “So if you’ve never eaten meat, how do you know you don’t like it?” She raised one eyebrow.

  He didn’t. He’d been trying to make the burger more like what he was used to. With her watching he broke a piece of the meat patty and put i
t in his mouth. It didn’t taste like death, but it didn’t taste like anything he wanted to eat again either. “How about I skip the meat and stick with the fries and drink?”

  “As long as you don’t mind me eating meat.”

  He smiled. “Not at all.”

  “See, if we weren’t having our first date, I’d have never known you were a vegetarian.” She raised her paper cup. “To first dates.”

  He raised his cup so they tapped. “To many more.”

  “So if you weren’t the Hunter, what would you be doing?” she said after sipping her drink.

  He never spoke about his family, though he was sure most knew his background simply because it was always wise to know your opponent. “My parents farm on the outer reaches of Annwyn.”

  “There are farms?”

  “Where do you think the food comes from? Someone has to grow it and produce it.”

  Her lips parted as she thought about it. “I never realized. My parents never mentioned anything other than Court.”

  “Most Court fairies don’t. They don’t like to think of anything other than themselves.” Something he’d have never said aloud in Annwyn. Yet here he didn’t have to censor every word. The humans around them were too involved in their own conversation. No one cared and no one was watching.

  “You’re a Court fairy.” She pointed a fry at him.

  “I am now.” He nodded and took the fry from her. “But I have lived beyond Court. It was my decision to leave the farm. I went in knowing what I was doing.” But not realizing what it would cost him. “So what do you do here? You aren’t part of the Brownie compact that your parents made.”

  “My father is bound by the compact; my mother isn’t. She made sure I had a childhood instead of being trapped in the house. I went to school like everyone else, and I have been working as a cleaner to get enough cash for clothes. I think she is glad I’ve been called to Court. She didn’t like me running around like a human.”

  “Plenty of fairies live here, acting human and rarely coming to Court.”