by Caleb James
“Take back your heart,” Dorothea echoed.
And bite off his head.
“Yes, and bite off his head.”
Sixteen
FINN’S MIND reeled. Moments ago he was in Fort Tryon Park, and now…. He stared at the guy, or whatever he was…. Redmond. Ears a bit pointy, but everything else…. His eyes traced the outline of the man’s body. Even with his long blue Harry Potter robe, he was graceful and practically floated. Their gazes locked. Why is he looking at me like that? God, he’s good-looking. I wonder how old he is? Thirties, twenties, forties?
And I’m staring like a schoolgirl. Finn looked away. What the hell is that? He stopped and gazed up at a towering citadel that glowed a silvered orange by the light of the moon. Okay, not Manhattan. Just go with it. And where’s everyone else? Why does everything smell so strong? Why am I smelling him? He smells good. What the hell? Where is everyone? He wondered if maybe the others had landed at random points. But why is Nimby with me and not with Alex? And is it okay to think questions and not ask them? Fuck fuck fuckity fuck…. God, he smells good. And looks even better.
Nimby lay on a rock and sang and rocked and occasionally screamed. “Poor thing,” Redmond said, and he scooped her up.
Finn braced, wondering if he’d need to defend Alex’s fairy. But Redmond’s touch was gentle. He’s done this before. The urge to ask questions was intense. But he’d been warned…. How do you talk without questions? “Tell me what’s wrong with her.”
“Travel sickness. In her case it’s pixielation.” He tapped his forefinger three times on the center of one of Nimby’s tattoos. Like an off switch, the fairy closed her eyes and fell asleep. He tucked her into a pocket of his robe. “It’s common.” Redmond’s gaze narrowed. He scrutinized Finn.
So that’s it. “You’re wondering how I broke,” Finn said, knowing he was neither haffling or in the midst of some blissful love affair—that ship had never come for him. But TMI for this guy, at least TMI for now. He looked around. Where’s everyone else? It was just the two of them. He thought to shout out for Alex, Charlie, and the rest. But with Nimby silenced and the warm night air filled with strange scents and this beautiful man, loud noise seemed wrong. “There were more of us,” he said, hoping the sound of his voice would push away the weird. But it kept coming. Like the way colors here were different. The moon was orange, and the grass in the meadow was too green for the middle of night. And Redmond, from the blue of his robe, to his auburn hair tied back in a ponytail, to his eyes that seemed mostly green but held other colors….
“I don’t see or sense anyone else,” Redmond said, not taking his gaze from Finn’s.
Finn felt his cheeks color. Gooseflesh prickled on his arms. What the fuck? He thought of Charlie’s Liam. Is he trying to glamour me? It wouldn’t take much. And man, his hair looks soft, and his smile… not good-looking, beautiful. Teeth a bit pointy… probably not a vegetarian.
“Come,” Redmond said and broke the connection. “Let’s see what can be done for your pixie. She’s a Nevus fairy, and I’ve not seen one….” He turned back to Finn. “In a very long time.”
How he said it made Finn reappraise his earlier age estimate. While Finn did not sleep around, there were times the urge for human contact, the touch of another man, was so strong he’d go to places. There were many in New York—where guys could find something brief and anonymous, though the ache it filled was fleeting. But one thing he’d learned: everyone looks better and younger in the dark. But in the moonlight, as they crossed the meadow toward the imposing all-white city, with oddly angled towers and smooth soaring walls, he was entranced by Redmond. Every time he turned, he wanted to drink in his features, his high cheekbones, the tiny wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. The way the slightest breeze caught in his silk-fine hair. “Tell me what this place is.”
“It’s a university, a fortress, a hospital…,” Redmond said. “The Center for Fey Development. Though most call it the Center.”
“You work here,” he stated, careful to keep the inflection down at the end of the sentence.
“I do.” Redmond swallowed. “I founded it. Though it was built on something even older. A temple to a goddess that’s now largely forgotten. After that it was a school…. I was raised here.”
Finn stared up and took in the scale of the beautiful white city, like something from ancient Greece or Rome. “I’m thinking you’re older than you look.”
“Time works different here, Finn. We don’t age the way you do. Our lives are measured on a different scale, a larger scale.”
Finn wanted to ask just how old, but that seemed unimportant… and rude, as they passed under an arch guarded by two hideous creatures in blue uniforms. He bit back the obvious What the fuck are those? and watched Redmond give the briefest of nods as they passed. It was hard not to spin his head back and just stare. Some kind of guards… but Shrek, only not cute Shrek.
“So Finn, and I imagine there’s a surname as well, tell me your business here.”
“I’m not certain.” And Finn deliberately lobbed the thing Gran had said was important. “My last name is Hulain.”
Two things happened as those two syllables left his mouth. Redmond spun back and clamped his hand firmly over Finn’s lips, and a scream, like a mortally wounded animal, shook the foundations of the city. It came from within the earth and simultaneously from somewhere far in the distance, two separate screams, but somehow connected.
It reminded Finn of the wail of sirens, only more primal. And as they stood and listened with Redmond’s warm hand on his face, a thought hit.
That’s the sound of a heart breaking.
Seventeen
REDMOND KEPT his hand clamped over Finn’s mouth as the stereo screams filled the night. He could feel his questions. They practically burned his flesh. What the hell was that? Who are you? Where am I? But Redmond, who had answers to all those questions, had darker thoughts. She knows you are here, and the wheel of fate has just been spun.
Despite the ice-water terror that ran through him, Redmond felt something else. The human’s lips, his hot breath against his palm.
Finn nodded and gripped Redmond’s hand to pull it away. “I’m good. Tell me what the fuck that is.”
“Not a what, exactly…, a who. It’s our queen, Finn. Though lately she’s not been herself. More like two selves, and truth be told, there’s a third part she’s just come to understand. And I now know why you’ve dropped from the sky and landed here. Damn.”
“Tell me.” Finn gripped Redmond’s wrist. “I know some, or think I do, though it’s all batshit crazy.”
Redmond smiled as May’s wails crested and finally stopped. “Madness is my business. I am a psychiatrist.”
“So that’s what this place is. It’s a nuthouse.”
“We use kinder words, but yes. It’s an insane asylum and a place for others to work on improving themselves. It’s also a university. And….” Redmond’s words stuck in his throat.
“Tell me,” Finn said.
“It’s a shelter. It’s the only place in the Unsee that Queen May has not breached. Though she has tried.”
“But you said she’s here now… or a part of her is. I’m guessing it’s not for a round of getting over daddy issues.”
“No, and this is my particular specialty. Those whose insanity leads them to harm others.”
“So mad and bad,” Finn commented, drawing on his own experience investigating arson.
Where oftentimes the motivation was the fire itself.
“Precisely. And while I don’t mind,” Redmond said, “at any point you could release my hand… unless you don’t want to.” He faced Finn and felt his breath and the beating of his heart in the inches between them. He hoped he wasn’t wrong, because he saw desire in Finn’s eyes.
Finn’s voice was gruff. “Maybe this is my insanity. Maybe this is how I broke.” And he closed the inches between them and pulled Redmond into a kiss.
Redmond di
d not resist. Their lips met. Finn let go of his wrist and gripped the sides of his head. Redmond felt transported to a realm of bliss as they locked together. Someone gasped, and Finn’s warm mouth was on his neck.
It lasted a lifetime and not long enough. Breathless, they pulled back, and the night was again split by the ground-rocking roar of two beasts, one from within the Center and the other far in the distance.
Nimby awoke in Redmond’s pocket and sang, “Peas porridge hot. Peas porridge cold. Peas porridge in the pot nine days old.”
Finn whispered, his breath hot against Redmond’s cheek, “That’s her.”
“Yes.” Redmond couldn’t focus. His fingers twined through Finn’s. He knew enough to be afraid, but those feelings would not come. “This won’t end well.”
Finn nodded. “Yeah, I get that. I take it she’s your patient.”
“Yes.”
“A well-locked-up patient.”
“One hopes so.” And from inside the neck of his robe, Redmond pulled out the ruby houndstone on its leather strap. In the moonlight, the gem glowed and pulsed with the rhythm of a heart.
Finn reached for it, and the color flared. He touched it, and…. “Holy shit!”
“Tell me,” Redmond said. There’s magic here. Something is happening.
Finn’s eyes sparked red with the gem’s pulsing aura. “It’s like energy, raw power.” Finn closed his fist around the stone. He looked at Redmond and, with a quick and decisive pull, severed the cord from Redmond’s neck. “This is mine.”
Redmond stared, transfixed. Finn’s form wavered. Subtle at first, his hair, which had been close-cropped and military, lengthened. His red-and-silver locks sprouted and glistened in the moon as they lengthened and curled around his broadening shoulders. Where they had been of equal height, Finn gained five inches, the fabric on his shirt strained, and buttons popped to reveal a broad chest. And his eyes, which had been deep and warm and brown, glinted with the red of the stone. Finn’s lips curled into a smile. He looked toward the distant city and then at Redmond. “Tell me what you see.”
“I see a legend reborn.”
“Speak plain, Redmond. I need to know.”
His use of his name and something in his voice quieted Redmond. During that wonderful kiss, he’d let hope blossom that in the midst of horrible danger, something wonderful had fallen into his life. But now…. “I see you, Finn Hulain. I see the Hound.”
Finn opened his fist, and where he’d held the talisman, all that remained was the leather strap. “Tell me what I am.”
Redmond thought of the dust bunnies waiting for him. A dull pain blossomed within his chest. “You are the Hound, Finn Hulain. She, that creature howling in the night, she is yours, and you are hers.” And I had you for one unlikely and wonderful moment. But you are not mine. You are hers.
Finn’s eyes narrowed as he focused on Redmond. He placed a hand beneath Redmond’s chin, not letting him look away. And as the little black fairy sang about love betrayed, Finn’s words washed over Redmond. “And you, Redmond. With whom do you belong?”
That it was an unabashed question shocked Redmond, but more than that, the truth was a vice around his heart. He met Finn’s gaze—and now you are not just a handsome mortal, but a legend. He knew that whatever connection he’d had with Finn was gone in this transformation. “I belong with no one.” He pulled back from Finn, and trying to hang on to what little self-respect remained, he masked his emotions. “You came with a purpose, Finn, and that lies within those walls.” He looked down at Nimby, cradled in his pocket. I must clear my thoughts. “Let me tuck this brave little thing into a healing cradle, and then I will return. Wait here. It’s time you became reacquainted with your betrothed.”
His chest ached as he rose on the air. It wasn’t the elephant thump of angina or even a muscle pain. It cut deeper. He let the pores of his skin drink the night air. I need to get away from here. Away from him. A breeze off the Western Sea lifted him high and fast. Don’t look at him.
Don’t let him see. Don’t let him know. It was just a kiss, a lie made flesh by the burn that lingered on his lips. The feel of Finn’s stubble clung to his fingers, as the ghost of his breath and the flick of his tongue played on his neck. He’s not for you. He is hers. He is taken, and I have been a fool.
Warm currents swept him skyward, and he gazed back on the transformed mortal. The beautiful man was taller and stronger than when he’d found him in the meadow with his barking-mad pixie. His hair now curled around his neck in a mixture of fire and ice. Stop looking at me. Don’t look at me. Why does he stare? I should have known. He forced a laugh as he thought of the man’s ridiculous name, Finn Hulain—two heroes wrapped in one. But what squeezed through his lips was a rasp of pain. He lost track of his purpose—to get little Nimby into a healing cradle. He drifted directionless on the currents, unable to rip his gaze from Finn, from the Hound. He blinked back tears and tried to meet Finn’s stare. As the distance grew, he saw Finn’s mouth open. He’s trying to say something. But what came through his lips was not a word but a howl, like an animal, like a dog, like the Hound.
And so it begins, Redmond thought as he vanished into the clouds.
Eighteen
DEEP IN the earth, May woke screaming from a tortured dream. Her shrieks split the air as she struggled to remember where she was, who she was. For a panicked moment, she couldn’t move. Then like a switch was thrown, she ran her hands down the length of her body. What form am I? Her fingers played over smooth limbs, breasts, hair. I’m back to me. She felt a thrill beneath her feet and knew its cause. “Fool me once,” she muttered. The sound helped her focus and steady her shape. She heard footsteps. He’s coming. This is not possible, and so it is real. He must not see me like this.
When she’d seen the doctor with the houndstone, she’d known that fate was about to loose a wicked arrow. She smelled his musk on that cursed jewel. But prepared she wasn’t.
She heard voices and checked herself in the mirror. Not like this. I must be beautiful for him. Hair up or down? The air sparkled as gown after gown appeared, was altered and then replaced. I am Queen May. I am…. The door swung open, and there he stood. Tall, handsome beyond compare, with shoulder-length flame-red hair streaked with silver, strong jaw, and penetrating eyes. He is perfect, and I am broken… because of him and my conniving sisters.
Ancient hurts skewered her afresh. The jealousy, the fear that not only had he betrayed their love, but that… he was unfaithful. Dog! Lying filthy dog! Any traces of her sisters’ magic vanished in his presence. I can see clearly.
She couldn’t breathe. I will not let him see the effect he has on me. “Hello, Hound.”
“My queen.” He bowed, and beside him she saw the doctor, his gaze fixed first on the Hound and then her.
She made several rapid conclusions. First, the Hound was not exactly as she’d remembered him. Yes, it had been more than two thousand years ago, but still. The face, the features, he was the Hound, her hound, and the standard of male strength and beauty. It was common back in that day when commenting on a newborn to say, “Let him have the strength and beauty of the Hound. Let her be as lovely as Queen May.” He looked different. There’s something more. It tore at her. He is whole, and I am not. And he has my heart as well. How?
How? What do I not see? And so it starts with lies and infidelity.
“Shall I enter?” he asked with the slap of a question and a curt nod of his head. Not even close to the courtly bow she was due. His eyes sought out hers.
“Questions cost,” she replied, as her hair decided it was unhappy as a french braid and would rather be a ponytail.
He smiled.
Her knees weakened, and her dress shortened to midcalf and went from a deep blue brocade to quaint country gingham.
“I’m prepared to pay.” He smiled and cocked his head as he studied her rapidly evolving costume.
“You lie.” She struggled to remember all the reasons this creature was po
ison. And too distracted to keep even her outfit in line, she felt the salamander return. And wouldn’t it be nice to bite off the Hound’s smiling head. Best to eat those we love. At worse they give us a bit of indigestion.
“I am not fey,” he stated. “It is my right to lie, as it is to ask questions, cost or no.”
“You’ve made some effort to come here.” A tail formed at the base of her spine. He cannot see me like this. She kept her voice level as the appendage grew and threatened to poke out beneath her shortening dress. “I’d thought you dead and buried.”
“As I’ve been… many times.” He squinted and appeared perplexed. “I do not share in your longevity. What you see is me, and it’s not me. It’s flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. My name is Finn, or you can continue to call me Hound if you prefer. And madam,” he said, stating the obvious, “I do not recall your having a tail… at least not of that type.”
Damn him. Her white tail wagged from side to side. She tried to will it still. It has a mind of its own. “You could have lived forever.” And there it was; her defenses fell, as did her tears. “You could have had everything.”
Finn crossed to her and took her hand. His voice was deep and kind. “What have you done to yourself?”
She pulled back, though he would not let go of her hand. He looked back toward Redmond. “She is your patient?”
“Yes.”
“She is broken. I mean seriously broken.”
“True.”
“How?”
May struggled to free herself from his grip as her tail thumped like a puppy’s on the stone floor. “Let go. You have no claim here.”
“They say the fey can’t lie. I never believed that.”
She looked at her hand in his. “It is no lie.” She slipped from his warm grip. “If I am your patient…. Redmond… I do not give you permission to talk to this creature. This Finnish hound. Leave! Run away, dog. I have no bone for you here.” As harsh words tumbled from her lips, her tears streamed, and memories, now free from magic, returned with a crushing force. “Get out!” She pointed to Redmond. “You, little man, stay. I have need of you.” Her body trembled as she moved as far from Finn as possible. Yes, I’m broken, and stupid me not to see the cause. Everything makes sense, or nearly so. She glared at the Hound, with his stupid grin, flowing red locks, and lying brown eyes. But there was more. He holds the key.