Eternal Bond (Edanholme Book 2)

by Catherine Fitzpatrick

“I like them all equally… They have individual traits that make them lovable, it doesn’t

  necessarily mean I’m in love with any one of them.” Sapphire eyes ran over each of the

  enforcers in turn. Turi was huge, drop dead gorgeous and willing to support the Angel

  of Edanholme without question. Kynthelig was simply Hot, occasionally unbending

  enough to teach a useless human female how to hunt. Phelan was a dream of multihued

  hair and ice blue eyes, resembling his wolf in Sidhe form more so than any other of his

  kin. Not that they were related by blood, except for Charon and Fintan, theirs was a

  bond of sword and honour among warriors and enforcers of a new Queen, a true and

  benevolent ruler of the Sidhe realms.

  The Wolf Lord, Phelan, was a little taciturn, but not on the scale of the Bard. He loved

  children, spent hours playing with the young, taking them for endless rides on a furry

  back out of sheer delight. The twins were nothing more than complete nutcases.

  They didn’t share a serious bone between two fabulous bodies that could and would

  cause instant chaos to the hearts of any female whether Sidhe or human, if they were

  ever unleashed on an unsuspecting world. They were dirty fighters, lethal enforcers

  and seriously cute to boot.

  “Do you like me…?” Playing with a piece of popcorn Teague waited in dignified silence

  for a long sought answer. Leaning back on a high stool, fingers tightening on the edge of

  a granite work surface, Alex pondered on a seemingly innocent question. Any of the Fae

  races would have to answer a direct query truthfully or ignore it completely. Alex wasn’t

  compelled to answer honestly. If she did, the Bard would be drowning under a long list

  of desires. “Mostly I like you… Today could have been a big exception. Sometimes you

  make me want to scream in frustration…” A husky whisper told him forgiveness for

  intruding upon the time and home of a mistrusting female would have to be earned.

  Teague lived frustration whenever he looked at an angel. It had to be resolved.

  A choice would have to made, before the brethren came to blows over a tempting

  morsel of humanity.

  “Tis not really an answer Aingeal…” Canted eyes hinted at amethyst depths, hidden

  desires for a precious female to make a wondrous commitment to him.

  “It’s all you’re going to get…” As conversation stoppers went, it was high on the list of

  mind your own business and I’ll mind mine.

  The end of the film signalled the end of a convivial night. Alex tried hard to suppress a

  yawn. She had to work at the optical practice tomorrow. Then she had to face a few

  miserable days of toil in paradise, pandering to the malicious demands of the matrons.

  Turi was the first to take his leave. Enclosing an angel in a huge hug, he dropped a kiss

  on her hair before transporting home with empty food containers.

  Kynthelig stepped up next to take a grungy hand in his, placing a soft kiss on her palm

  he brought it to his heart, yellow lights burning in onyx eyes. “Farewell Angel…”

  Poof, gone… Phelan’s massive figure moved towards Alex with liquid grace as he bent

  to place silky lips on her forehead in a chaste caress.

  “My thanks for allowing us to visit thy home…” The twins flanked him, megawatt grins

  on identical faces. Dislodging a massive wolf, two mental foxes wrapped her in the heat

  of bright fire and white light to plant a gentle kiss on each cheek.

  “We will leave thee in peace little sister…” Charon stroked her hair, cornflower blue

  eyes twinkling under electric lighting. “Aye… Though it would be pleasurable to watch

  thy magic box again…” Fintan gave a crowded female an extra squeeze before the three

  warriors translocated as one. Left alone with the Bard, an angel, aura glowing pure

  white after a sincere demonstration of warmth and love, knew he wouldn’t deem it

  proper to touch her. It was so not the style of a dignified Sidhe noble.

  Teague wished to hug his Aingeal, craved to lay kisses on soft skin. In truth, he would not

  want to leave it at a simple salute of thanks. To take a delicious female in his arms meant

  more than a gesture of farewell to a lonely heart, to do so would unleash the mating urge

  to scent mark a vulnerable angel, a way to ward off predatory warriors. He had not that right…

  Not this day.

  Hands on hips, a suddenly bone weary body craved sleep. Gazing up at a perfect face,

  wide eyes offered the Bard nothing when an aching heart wanted to caress every inch of

  ivory skin.

  “So Mister Frosty… Having shown your brothers the way to my home, how do you plan

  on preventing them dropping by whenever they decide to?” A gurgle of malicious laughter

  sneaked past her lips at the sudden widening of lilac eyes, the compressed line of firm lips.

  “Gotcha… Didn’t think of that when you decided to bring the party to me did you?”

  Fatigue on the back burner, a feisty angel knew he would come up with a way to block an

  influx of enforcers ready to make a play for an unattached female.

  “Ah…” Dropping onto a convenient stool Teague stretched out long legs to cross at the

  ankles, running one hand over a silver braid he pondered on a situation fraught with the

  threat of over-zealous males popping in and out of a tiny apartment at will.

  “Too bloody right, Ah… What were you thinking?” Alex held up a hand, stifling a laugh

  at the chagrin on a beautiful face. “I know, you weren’t thinking at all… Go on, enlighten

  me as to how you plan to make my home secure.”

  Elegant fingers flicked a small wave that went almost unnoticed, Teague wound air and

  water into a matrix of elements that coated walls and ceiling in a sparkling barrier of

  delicate luminescence. “Impressive… Very pretty, but I imagine there will be conditions

  and restrictions coexistent with a Sidhe form of imprisonment? Like, how do I get through

  a magical wall?” Planting her butt on the back of the sofa, crystal blue eyes ran over a

  long figure, soaking up every luscious inch of sleek muscle.

  “T’will fashion a path for thee alone, no hindrance at progress to and from thy home. You

  may feel a tingle of static over skin, nothing more…”

  A barrier of his making would also allow the Bard free passage to visit his Aingeal.

  “Ok… Say for instance Turi decided to pay a surprise visit, he would be stopped cold?

  Wouldn’t that prove to be uncomfortable, maybe dangerous? If he had no prior warning

  of the presence of a shield, isn’t it possible he would bounce off, transporting elsewhere

  with no other destination in mind. A random dematerialisation with no end point…?”

  A tired angel had the sense to work out the potentially disastrous flaw in a hastily

  constructed wall of force.

  “Tis a possibility…” An indolent shrug rocked a long plait from a wide shoulder, to snake

  over the leather form fitting jerkin covering Teague from neck to waist .

  “Teague…” Alex hissed at him, mesmerised by the sinuous slither of lustrous hair and

  shocked by a statement of cold indifference. “You can’t do that to your brothers…”

  Sometimes he was just downright scary. “What about humans? Would the barrier

  hurt them? I actually have friends who are allowed to drop by whenever they care to.”

  She had friends, but they rarely vi
sited without prior notice. That wasn’t the point.

  “No harm would come to thy friends, but memory may be affected. Any human would

  simply forget why they approached thy home…”

  The Bard saw rejection of him in a blazing aura tinged with grey motes of displeasure,

  dislike and disdain in a candid blue gaze. Not the emotions he desired to bring to the

  surface, to breach the solid walls around a generous heart.

  Biting at her lip Alex realised reluctantly the Bards self-effacing demeanour, soft words

  and gentle spirit belied a ruthless, coldly efficient enforcer. A warrior who had no

  qualms when it came to securing her safety. An impenetrable wall erected in seconds,

  shouted male dominance, a possibly possessive gesture in protecting a fragile female.

  It was more likely he had put aside diffidence, to assume the role of menacing enforcer

  in a token act of altruistic bodyguard again. Teague took his vow to the Queen, her best

  friend, as a solid commitment to his Liege Lady. To break an oath was a crime in the eyes

  of the Sidhe, leading to exile from the Sovereign Isles at least.

  A lazy flutter of long fingers dispelled an opaque mist, a smile of satisfaction on a serenely

  complacent face. The Lord Teague compromised on a form of protection under an intense

  stare of disbelieving disgust and anxiety for his brethren.

  “Better…” A harsh growl acknowledged the disappearance of a punishing barrier. Alex

  wasn’t fooled for a minute, the innate enforcer of the law hidden beneath an elegant

  exterior, took over-protectiveness to extremes. “Where did it go…?”

  “Thy sleeping room…” Easing to his feet the Bard bowed low to a precious witch.

  If danger threatened in any form, Aingeal had an escape route, a bolt hole, a way to

  ward off importune admirers of any species.

  “Fine… I can cope with that.” Looking up into eyes more amethyst than lilac, she

  fought back the impulse to drag him to a sleeping room bounded by elemental forces.

  She wasn’t in a fit state to do much beyond sleeping anyway.

  “I appreciate the gesture…” Waving a hand, a wilting female indicated to walls and

  ceiling. “But, it screamed overkill…”

  Head bowed, arms locked solidly across a wide chest, Teague accepted a less heated

  remonstrance with quiet dignity.

  “Time to go Mister Frosty…. I’m going to have a long bath and go to bed safe behind

  a fancy security blanket. Unless… I decide to sleep in the spare room.” A bright head

  shot up, a flare of anger sweeping across a serene face at a wicked taunt from a

  barbed tongue. “I’m joking… Now go, before I call Iscatya to come and get you.”

  It was an empty threat. No way would she use a Queen’s authority to fight her little

  battle of wills.

  “You would not do this…?” One simple word from an irritated Iscatya, and a delightful

  creature would forever be beyond his reach.

  “No… But I’m way past being nice…” Pulling a messy pony tail free, Alex stepped

  around a tall slice of heaven with frightening talents. Reaching the scant safety of

  the bathroom, she looked back over her shoulder, he hadn’t moved.

  “Go Teague…” Closing the door behind her the lock slid into place. Shivers ran down

  her spine, a cold cascade of desperate longing and stupid desires, reminding her how

  close she had come to throwing caution to the wind and her body into a Sidhe noble’s

  arms. The erratic thump of a torn heart, the heat of painful aching in her belly, told

  a mind determined to steer free of the pitfalls of an uneven match, she was losing

  the battle to keep the Bard at arms-length.

  Listening for the rush of water to signal Aingeal would be occupied for a while, a

  contrite male looked around the devastation of a room she had spent hours in

  decorating due to the misplaced criticism of a fool who should learn to hold his

  tongue. Mayhap, he could ensure some recompense to dispel disapproval in crystal

  blue eyes.

  A long soak in the bath didn’t materialise unlike unwelcome guests, gritty eyed

  Alex scrubbed her skin free of paint. A shower in the morning would serve to wash

  away the bits she’d missed. Teague’s erratic behaviour bothered her more than a

  little, he showed signs of the possessive dominance Drusal inflicted on Cat on a daily basis.

  Then out of sheer perversity he morphed into default mode. If he was female, she

  would attribute it to raging hormones hand in hand with PMT. Did Sidhe males even

  have any hormones, other than rampant testosterone? God knows…

  Whatever, he was definitely losing the plot. If she didn’t know better, the Bard’s mood

  swings smacked of jealousy. Yeah right…

  Sinking under water to rinse off, a thoughtful angel blew out bubbles of self-disgust.

  If she made any overture other than an innocent invitation to a music concert, he would

  probably run like hell out of sheer self-preservation.

  Wrapped from neck to ankle in a fluffy white robe, a suspicious angel peeked out of the

  bathroom door before venturing out into a battle ground. Mouth falling open in

  surprise, tears gathered on sooty lashes.

  Sod it… Teague had chosen a practical approach to apologising, the living space was swept

  free of popcorn, cushions sat plumped and inviting on sofa and chair.

  The gift of colourful fruit bowl sat front and centre on the breakfast bar, overflowing with

  her favourite red fruit. Beside the bowl sat a plastic container holding stacked pieces of

  flatbread, slices of boar and a wealth of crispy salad. A small glass jug holding Turi’s

  mouth-watering dressing propped up a note written in neat italics.

  My regrets that I caused thee distress cannot be fully expressed. As a token gesture,

  in acceptance of my guilt at the making of thy home a future thoroughfare for my kin,

  thy breakfast and lunch lay ready, with no expenditure of effort on thy part.

  I beg thy forgiveness, and will endeavour to leave thee in peace.

  Sleep well Aingeal.

  No name, no kisses… What a bitch. She was ready to take their spat to the next level

  of vindictive name calling and vitriolic sarcasm. The Bard had taken the wind out of her

  sails, left a contrary female adrift in an ocean of turbulent emotions. Popping the container

  of goodies into an empty fridge, Alex drifted off to bed. A tingle of static over her skin

  announced the barrier was in full working order. A bemused smile on her face, she hadn’t a

  clue what to expect next. Any insight into the workings of Teague’s mind was a lost cause.

  Suck it up girl… She chastised the nagging voice in her head that planted the seeds of hope

  in a heart devoid of any. Leave him alone, just do what you do, and wait and see.

  CHAPTER SIX

  It was a Bank Holiday weekend, a time to relax, unwind and party hard. Pacing the living room

  floor, Alex bit at her lip. She really, really wanted to go to the Caribbean Carnival in Leeds.

  Unfortunately she didn’t have a date. She wasn’t such a sad sack that she would tackle a

  monster party solo. Besides, a man would offer protection if the party got too wild.

  She was going stir crazy… Working in the practice, and running a refugee camp came with

  attendant headaches, and little time to enjoy a spontaneous food and drink fest. Tapping out

  a text, she gave in to desperation.
Teague was a man, he would have to do. No answer…

  She rang instead, number unavailable. When she didn’t want him, he shadowed her footsteps

  like a bridesmaid. Now Mister Frosty was unavailable when she did want to use him as

  a muscled protector… Growling, she kicked at the soft cushions off the sofa.

  There was only one way to contact him in a hurry, it wasn’t ideal, but she had no choice.

  Driving out to the residence would waste valuable party time.

  Cat’s number was on speed dial… It was this or mope around at home like a wall flower.

  “Hi Angel, what can I do for you?” Alex hesitated. This was going to come back and bite

  her on the ass.

  “Can you ask Teague to poof over to my place, I want to ask him something?” Toes curling,

  she waited for the inevitable question.

  “Can I ask what?” Cat gurgled down the phone.

  “I need a date, and he’s voted in….” Face screwed up in a grimace, she kicked the sofa once

  more. It was safer than kicking the Queen of Edanholme.

  “Oh goody, where are you going?” The interrogation wouldn’t stop until a nosy witch had

  every last detail.

  “I want to go to the Caribbean Carnival…” Alex wailed down the phone in exasperation.

  “It’s probably not safe to go alone, and you keep telling me I need a bodyguard.” There,

  make more of that if you can. Her friend probably would, the evil, scheming….

  “We could make it a foursome.” Excitement rang in lilting tones.

  “No way, Drusal will scare the humans.” She wanted to enjoy herself, not tread on egg shells,

  waiting for a Sidhe warrior to kick off and ruin a good time.

  “He won’t…” Counting the seconds, Alex knew she had trapped her friend. Cat couldn’t tell

  a lie, it was an inbuilt truism of the Fae.

  “He scares me…” She delivered the conversation stopper.

  “Fine… I’ll let Teague know he’s needed…” A malicious chuckle told Alex she was going to

  pay for criticising the Queens Consort. Tough… He did scare her.

  Drusal was a hugely muscled Sidhe noble, unyielding and contemptuous of lesser beings.

  Alex personified a lesser being.