Eternal Bond (Edanholme Book 2)

by Catherine Fitzpatrick

  The Bard had taken a step forward today, one that may make everyone’s life easier.

  It didn’t mean he would find a human female an acceptable partner in bed. Stop it…

  Alex admonished the little voice in her head, the one that told her to ignore the painful

  consequences of causing more devastation to a damaged soul. Making love to a long

  lean, tremendously desirable Sidhe male wasn’t going to happen, she might want it to,

  but sanity overruled temptation.

  “Let’s go…” The world shimmered blue.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Alex stamped up the two flights of stairs to her apartment, glad for once the working day

  had come to an end. The plan, for now, was to strip off her uniform and burn it. To get into

  running gear and head out for a couple of hours with no one to plead, cajole or wind her up.

  Opening the outer door the strains of Sam Smith’s Stay, drifted from the living area.

  A frown clamped sooty eyebrows down over narrowed Sapphire eyes.

  “Aingeal..?” The lilting rasp of Teague’s voice grated on stretched nerves, and a simmering

  temper tantrum.

  “No… I’m a chuffing burglar. Who were you expecting…?” Dropping an oversized shoulder

  bag on the breakfast bar, the hairs on the nape of her neck bristled at the intrusion in her

  private space.

  Turning off the TV the Bard unfurled from the sofa, resplendent as always in Sidhe leathers

  that emphasised every delicious inch of lithe grace.

  “Iscatya bid me invite thee to dinner.” Soft violet eyes noted Aingeal was not at her best.

  The planes of a beautiful face were drawn in angry lines. Her usual white aura wavered with

  pulsing waves of stormy grey.

  “Cat can go take a long walk off a short pier, take a hike, a running jump off a cliff, go away,

  get lost, scat…” Opening the fridge Alex pulled out a can of Fanta, to down it in a few hasty

  swallows. Gas built up in her throat in a promise of an almighty belch.

  “Excuse me…” Racing to the bathroom, a monumental burp that hurt her throat in an acid

  release was masked by the flush of the toilet.

  “Should have stuck to water…” Splashing cold water on her face, Alex brought her temper

  under meagre control.

  Teague hadn’t moved from the spot when she returned to the living area, tugging her hair

  from a tight pony-tail.

  “The answer’s no, if you were still wondering…” Ignoring the luscious male Alex rummaged

  through a capacious bag to unearth an I-Phone.

  “I see you are ‘out of sorts’. That is the correct term?” Standing aloof and calmly still,

  Teague watched the frustration of a trying day begin to ease from the face of an angel.

  Rocking tensed shoulders, she had to grin at his understatement of a foul mood.

  “If I could, I’d wipe today off the calendar and start all over again. With my luck it would

  be twice as annoying and less productive.” Holding out the I-Phone, she waved her hand

  at the Bard. “Here, take it. I bought it for you.”

  Her voice came out sharp and utterly devoid of any warmth.

  Teague backed off. Aingeal showed all the signs of total domination. He much preferred

  the softer side of the female.

  “For God’s sake take it. It’s only a phone, not a gift. A business requirement not a binding

  contract. If you need to contact me, use this do it, not take root in my home.” Placing the

  phone gently on the counter top, she stifled the desire to throw it at a blank face.

  “Lighten up Mister Frosty. I am in no mood to listen to platitudes or invitations from a so

  called friend, who is so bored she wants to make me squirm for her entertainment.

  It is so not going to happen.” Shrugging off uniform jacket, Alex threw it as far as she could.

  It helped, but not enough to stem the urge to smack him round the head, just a little.

  “I take a negative answer to the Queen…?” Head bowed, the Bard hid a smile. Aingeal

  was in a state of right royal rage to match even Iscatya on a bad day.

  “You can take whatever you want, but it won’t be me. I’m going for a run.” Raising crystal

  blue eyes, Alex tossed him a bone.

  “You can join me if you wish. It will save you from disgrace at not serving me up as the

  light relief at dinner.”

  Teague was lost… The Queen and Aingeal were sisters of the spirit. Days such as this

  made him wish to be far from either female. His knowledge of feminine moods and wiles

  was limited. He had no understanding of the sharp tongued, combative nature of sibling

  rivalry. “It would be enjoyable to run…”

  Offering her an olive branch, the Bard watched a spark of triumph gleam in dark lashed eyes.

  “Great… Put your human suit on, I’m going to make you sweat.” Flouncing into the bedroom

  Alex stripped quickly, kicking her uniform around the floor. Dressed in T-shirt, running shorts

  and Nike trainers, she was back in the main room in minutes.

  Teague had shifted to human shape, shorter, bulkier, with blonde hair cropped to shoulder

  length, jeans and tight vest moulded to a muscular form. Laughing Alex pulled up running

  gear on the laptop.

  “Here, look at this. Sweat pants or shorts. Running shoes… Whatever.”

  He shifted again. Blue light shimmered for a second to reveal knee length sweat shorts and

  short sleeved T-shirt of marl grey. “Better…” Alex breathed softly.

  “In fact Mister Frosty, you look fantastic.” She bit her lip. He was gorgeous in any form, too

  much of a temptation for any hot blooded female. I-phones set on music shuffle she placed

  one in his hand flipping the ear phones under a broader version of the Bards streamlined

  nose.

  “This is how it works… Listen to the music and run. Don’t distract me, don’t even think of

  talking to me for at least an hour. Ok…” Wrenching open the outer door, water bottles

  tucked beneath an arm she threw one to the Bard. “You’ll need that…”

  Alex set a fast pace, she went flat out to burn off the aggression of a frustrating eight hours

  of thankless servitude. Teague loped at her side, calm and serene as always.

  Her steps led up and over winding roads to the top of Beacon Hill. Dropping onto a bench

  overlooking a once industrial town, she unhooked the earpieces to sit in tranquil silence.

  Heart rate slowing, her anger drifted away.

  “Tis peaceful here… Less frenetic than the centre of populace, more akin to the wild nature

  of Mother Earth.” Teague breathed out a sigh of contentment.

  “I have no liking for the bustle of humanity. It lacks soul, as does thy box of a domicile, tis too

  bland. There is no greenery Aingeal…” Tapping elegant fingers on the wooden bench, he

  resisted the compulsion to lay his hand on the naked thigh at his side.

  “I’m too scatter-brained to have plants. I’d forget to water and feed them. It’s safer for any

  plant to let nature take its course in a place such as this.” Surrounded by woodland, the road

  a scant six feet away, they were immersed in nature at its best.

  “Thy spirit is soothed Aingeal?” The low rasp of a husky whisper made her heart sing.

  An ache of longing throbbed deep in her chest, scaring her with the desire to be lost in the

  arms of a compassionate male.

  “Yep… For now, I’m whole again.” Twisting to face the Bard in human suit, she voiced a

  he
sitant invitation. “Are you ready to eat, because I’m starving?”

  Teague inclined his head just as hesitantly. They had eaten in a human place before. It led to

  embarrassment for Aingeal.

  “I want a curry. A huge plate of spicy meat with loads of chapattis.” Swinging her legs Alex

  could taste exotic spices on her tongue in appreciation of a promised treat.

  “What is a curry…?” The Bard was lost once again. Any foray into the human realm of food

  left him longing for more, and more intimidated by the diversity of human culinary delights.

  “Hot, spicy morsels of deliciousness…. You may not like it initially, but believe me, you will

  crave it when the days are dark and winter freezes the blood.” Alex shivered. In a few short

  weeks summertime would officially end. Nights grew longer, daylight brief and treasured.

  The Bard had no reference to winter. Withins Underhill, his former home, held a constant

  temperate climate, as did Edanholme.

  “What is this winter…?” Curiosity infiltrated a husky whisper.

  “Cold days, long nights, ice, snow, freezing winds…” Lifting her eyes to his face Alex smiled

  wickedly.

  “Those days are coming soon Mister Frosty. Then you will know why I named thee thus…”

  Alex tried to weave her words in the cadence of the Sidhe. It didn’t work as well as she’d hoped,

  but it was fun to see him wince when she mangled a sentence.

  “Bollocks…” Her plan to feast on yummy curry had a flaw. “I left my purse at home.”

  She pouted in disappointment.

  “Coinage is needed to purchase thy feast?” Lilac eyes gleamed with amusement.

  “Thy purse is in the sack you carry?” A rasping whisper brushed at her ear.

  “Yep… And it’s not a sack. It’s a very expensive piece of designer accessorising.” Her answer

  came out jumbled, Teague’s breath made her shiver at his intimacy.

  “If you wish I will retrieve thy purse…?” It would take but seconds to please the female.

  A thing he wished above all else.

  “There are other walkers about. The way you shimmer when translocating is a bit obvious.”

  Shaking her head Alex vetoed the plan.

  “I can take shelter in the shadow of trees…” He wasn’t taking no for an answer twice in one day.

  Taking her I-Phone in one hand, an idea how to make the scene more natural made her grin.

  “I’ll take a picture. You can be there and back while I’m messing about trying to get the right

  pose.” She’d always wanted to capture his image and daren’t ask outright. This way she killed

  two birds with one stone.

  Teague shook his head. He was clueless at her words, but by the import Aingeal was more

  enthused towards his journey. Striding towards a small copse, drifting into dense shade, the

  blue shimmer of his aura became partially masked by overhanging foliage. Phone at the ready

  Alex took a series of images as he reappeared.

  Sitting side by side on the bench, designer sack slung over her shoulder Alex scrolled through

  the images on her phone. Each one showed a smudged blur of muddy colours. Thinking

  technology had let her down she took a selfie, pulling a stupid face.

  That one worked perfectly. Leaning close to the Bard she tried again to capture him on her

  phone with another selfie. Nope… The image was fuzzy, completely indecipherable.

  Taking a rapid homage to the beauty of a town surrounded by rolling hills and vibrant

  greenery, every shot stood out in clear definition. Fae magic thwarted her hope of ever

  having a picture of the Bard to look at when she was feeling low. With a fatalistic shrug she

  tossed the phone in her bag.

  An elderly couple, frequent visitors to the optical practice, smiled indulgently at Alex and her

  ‘boyfriend’ as they waved in greeting. “Time to go….”

  No way was she going to make small talk with a disdainful Mister Frosty in tow. Offering

  them the use of the bench, she grabbed at Teague’s hand to make a hasty retreat.

  “Enjoy the view. We’re off to get a curry.” Smiling her trade mark radiant grin, Alex tugged

  the Bard away under the inquisitive gaze of a long married couple. Everyone in the town

  would know she was with a hunky man before the sun set.

  The Bard shipped off to wonderland with a doggy bag of leftovers, Alex ruminated on his

  disparaging remarks about her apartment. Foil containers washed and stacked in the recycle

  bin, plates and cutlery placed neatly in the dishwasher, she took a few a minutes to really

  look at her home with a critical eye. Familiarity breeds contempt, or in this case, a lack of

  interest. It was easier to live in comfortable surroundings, than make the effort to update

  sadly uninspiring décor.

  White walls and ceilings, glossy white kitchen cabinets, a blank canvas in an open plan

  living space. Clean, bright and boring. Grey carpeting, huge sofa and a single armchair

  did little to dispel the sterility of minimalistic living.

  Ok, so Teague had it right. Apart from a stack of glossy magazines on a glass topped

  coffee table adding a touch of colour, it was pretty bleak. A bare environment with few

  personal touches. Even the two bedrooms lacked soul or evidence of any life, except for

  clothes strewn across bed and floors. She was a neat freak when necessary, but it didn’t

  rule her life. OCD was a compulsion she saved for the clinical areas of the optical practice.

  A decision made instantly, commitment to a project she would have to squeeze in between

  working hours and time spent bringing a degree of civilisation to a fabulous wilderness,

  Alex felt compelled to breathe life into the blandness. A visit to Wilko’s in her dinner hour to

  select paint would be a form of torture she could do without. Probably why she’d opted

  for white in the first place. Fast Freddie’s emporium of end of ranges from the major

  superstores would supply cheap and cheerful soft furnishings. Trotting off to bed, in the

  turbulence of her dreams Alex finished an arduous experiment in colour matching. In her

  head, the flat became a little palace of tasteful finishes and bright cheeriness. She woke the

  next day to stark white walls. Unfortunately the decorating Fairy hadn’t visited during the

  night, mean little sod. What a pain, she’d have to do it all herself, just like always.

  Bracing her-self for another day of cantankerous patients, the word had gone out. Alex

  spent endless hours fielding impertinent questions from staff and avid customers about her

  private life. Mrs so and so… Told me you were out running with your boyfriend. She also

  said he was really hunky, when are you getting engaged? That was the tenor of the

  conversations as she fielded every rude query with soft voiced denial. Speculation had

  shifted off Cat’s shoulders onto hers with a vengeance.

  Teague had formed the bad habit off popping into the practice when least expected, usually

  with a spurious message from his liege Lady. Cat could have texted, or sent out a thought in

  seconds. But no, she was playing a game of one up-man-ship.

  Whenever the Bard became too clingy, Alex sent him packing. She had declined the protection

  of a bodyguard. Now he was being used as a gofer to wind her up, or more likely to force her

  into giving in to Cat’s unrealistic scheme for her to mate with one of the Sidhe. All this fed

  the rumours, making it nigh on impossible to dispel the
rabid conclusions of a parochial town.

  By the time she reached home with the bulky paraphernalia needed to bring about a master

  piece of cheerfulness, Alex was as grumpy as a lady warthog in heat.

  Roller in hand, skin and hair liberally speckled in bright paint, she stood back to take in the

  changes she’d wrought in less than an hour. All the furniture had been moved to the centre

  of the room before she fell into bed the previous night so that she could crack on and get

  another chore out of the way. The two main walls shouted look at us, we’re alive.

  With just the edging to accomplish, without meandering over straight edges, she pursed her

  lips at the thought of scrambling up a ladder. Heights didn’t like her balance much, tending

  to make her legs wobble and her heart beat erratically.

  Sighing deeply, wrangling a sturdy flight of steps into place, with fortitude and a façade of

  determination on a pale face, she prepared for the ascent of Everest. The buzz of her phone

  announced a text message, interrupting a moment of sheer fright.

  Brushing paint from grungy fingers on the seat of tatty sweatpants, a groan of annoyance

  and relief left her lips. The Bard required speech with her…

  Once involved up to her chin in a project, any disturbance was unwelcome, even one in the

  shape of a desirable man. Picking up the phone, she rang him back.

  “Make it quick Teague, I’m busy….” Blunt, rude and straight to the point, Alex didn’t believe

  in beating about the bush. A shimmer of blue white light heralded the arrival of the Bard.

  “What do you do, Aingeal…?” Violet eyes soaked up a scene of chaos, a vivid splash of

  colour and a bespattered angel dressed in what amounted to rags.

  “I’m decorating… Some person informed me that my home is a bland box. So I’m doing

  something about it…” Happier to climb a ladder, knowing someone was there to catch

  her if vertigo took hold, Alex planted a solid foot on the first rung. She worked swiftly

  and precisely to neaten the edges of the wall along the ceiling line.

  Teague was mesmerised by a little figure making sure strokes in bright paint. Ideas for