“I’m glad. I’d like to know how he managed to keep you out of harm’s way.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “He hasn’t. I’ve moved every time I’ve drawn the notice of one of the fairies’ creatures. What he has done is kept detailed records of sluagh kills and has the profiles of at least two-dozen redcaps. When word reaches him of murders that fall into either category, he investigates and searches for their fairy rings. He burns any he finds.”
Calan tensed. “That’s dangerous. As a human, he wouldn’t know of the danger he was in until the monsters revealed themselves.”
“I know.” She sighed. “He feels it’s his duty to protect as many people as he can, but he could never find the fairy ring close to our home. He’d always suspected there was one. Too many locals had disappeared over the years, and the types of murders in the neighboring cities suggested sluagh activity. It drove him nuts.” She swept her gaze over the dirt floor. “Raul is smarter than I thought.”
He didn’t bother tugging her away from the ring. It wouldn’t cloud her mind during the daylight hours, or afterward for that matter. Her fairy blood made her immune to its influence. Humans, on the other hand, were lured in to the rings by illusions.
Most often they saw people dancing who would then invite the unsuspecting person to join them. Other times, they saw someone in distress, beseeching their help. No matter what captured their attention, the end result was the same. Once a human stepped past the ring of mushrooms, they tumbled into the fairy realm and became a slave to the owner of the ring.
He crouched beside her at the edge of the circle. “Be thankful your brother never ran into a sluagh or redcap.”
“I made him a dagger, so at least he had something to fight with if he had.” She gave him a wan smile. “If I lost Ian to them, I would’ve killed myself, no matter what promise I made.”
“You love him that deeply.” A stupid question, maybe, but he needed the answer. Although he’d invited Ian to ride the Hunt, Calan hadn’t decided if he’d let him. Once the human accepted a horse, he’d be bound to it and the Hunt for eternity. Such a commitment was not accepted or extended lightly.
“With all my heart. Ian and my vow to you are the reasons I’ve lived so long.” She laid her hand on his chest. “It hasn’t been easy. Every day the temptation to act on my rage has grown and so has the guilt. Everywhere I go, people die. I’m a menace to everyone, more so now.”
He covered her fingers with his and stroked her knuckles with his thumb. “They would kill and torture whether you lived or not.”
“You sound like Ian. That’s his favorite argument.” She chuckled. “He even has the statistics to support it.”
He treasured the lighthearted smile and hated that he had to erase it. The sooner he got it over with, the better. “Do you notice anything different about this circle?”
She held a hand out to hover over the nearest mushroom. “It’s not diseased.” She scrunched her brows and glanced at the skylights. “Why, because it’s out of the direct sun?”
“No. Raul has fed from you, and you still retain your goodness. The ring will remain healthy unless you turn Unseelie.” He tipped her chin up. “How did he get your blood?”
She gave the ring one more glance, then sighed. “It was a couple of weeks after you saved me. I was on my way to find you, and…”
Her voice trailed off. His first thought centered on the knowledge that she had tried to keep her promise. The second chilled him.
“Raul stopped you.” He supplied the words she hesitated to say.
She nodded.
“What happened?”
“I stupidly fell for an illusion he created. I saw a young girl on the side of the road, crying. She had a suitcase, and”—Harley groaned—“I pulled over to see if I could help her. God, I was so damn naive.”
A growl crawled up his throat. Raul had played on Harley’s goodness.
She skimmed her fingertips across his back in a soothing caress. He savored her touch. Here she was, recalling a difficult time, and yet she sought to comfort him. He pulled her closer.
“Raul was waiting, wasn’t he?”
“Yes.” She rested her cheek over his heart. “I should’ve expected it. You’d left me with the knowledge of the tricks they played. I just hadn’t really believed anyone would do that. I…I didn’t have much experience with people.”
“Your mother knew what had raped her.” She had to have. It was the only explanation for why Harley had lived to adulthood.
“Yes, and she used the knowledge to protect me. Unfortunately, she did so by isolating me from the outside world.” Harley lowered her voice. “I grew angry and bitter as I got older. Finally, I started sneaking out. Within a week, Raul found me.”
Calan pressed his lips to her hair. “I’m sorry. I wish I could’ve saved you from the pain and sadness you’ve experienced.”
She clutched him tight. “Me too.”
He held her in silence for a long moment, but he wanted the rest of her story. He suspected whatever happened made her change her mind about returning to him. “When you got out of your car, Raul attacked you.”
She dragged in a shaky breath. “He dragged me into the woods, and he…”
His anxiety spiked. “Did what?”
Harley slipped out of his embrace. With her back to him, she wrapped her arms around her chest. “He gnawed and sucked on my ankle, as if I were a juicy fruit or something.” She shivered. “Then he…”
Again she trailed off. He curled his fists and fought to remain calm. “What did he do?”
A shake of her head answered him.
Calan gentled his voice and asked, “Please, my mate. Tell me.”
“While he was distracted, I stabbed him.”
He’d gotten his answer as to how she’d slipped closer to accepting her Unseelie side. No doubt she’d wanted to hurt Raul, and because of the damned heritage her father bestowed upon her, she’d probably enjoyed it too.
“Why didn’t you finish it?” He was glad she hadn’t. The joy of the kill might’ve tipped her over. Still, the reason seemed important.
She lifted trembling hands to her face and pressed them to her eyes. “There was so much blood, and I just wanted to get away. He”—she cleared her throat—“hurt me.”
A terrifying idea took hold. He turned Harley into his arms and gently pried her hands away. Sadness didn’t show on her face. Anger did. “What did he do?”
“Nothing.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the display of pictures. Raul was obsessed with Harley. He’d watched her for years. Calan focused on one of Harley sleeping naked on top of her bed. Raul had gotten close to her while she’d been unaware. Partially bonded to her or not, he would’ve hungered for the power contained in her blood. He hadn’t taken it. No, the redcap wanted more. He hungered for her body as well as the strength he could get from her.
Why? Because he’d enjoyed her before?
Calan prayed he was wrong. It would kill him to know his beautiful mate had been violated. “Tell me.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Harley shoved at his chest. He tightened his grip, and she relented. “I got away.”
Anger gripped him. Harley had suffered, and he hadn’t been free to protect or even comfort her. “Tell. Me. Now.”
“Why?” She tensed and pierced him with her narrowed gaze. “So you can embrace your rage?” She shook her head. “No. I won’t give you a reason. It happened nine years ago. I lived.”
The look in her eyes told him the truth. He had to be sure. “Raul raped you, didn’t he?”
“Almost.”
A roar tore from his throat.
She wrapped her arms around him. “Calm down. I stopped him. It’s okay.”
His body shook from the power rushing into his muscles. He fought the downward spiral and focused on Harley’s small hands caressing him. His anger subsided, but not the need for revenge. “He’ll come after you again, force you to emb
race your rage, take you away from me.”
“He can try, but he won’t be able to, not with you as my pillar of strength.” Harley flashed him a smile. “Right? That’s what you told me. You’d help me.”
“Yes, but he won’t give up easily.” Calan peered over her head at the back corner of the room. “He’s obsessed with you.”
She gasped, then shoved away from him and approached the sick display of photos. A few feet away, she stopped.
“He’s been watching me for years. He told me he had. I didn’t realize…” Harley reached a trembling hand out to the picture he’d stared at not long ago. “I endangered every lover I took. I didn’t mean to. I thought I was being so careful, meeting them during the day, running afterward.”
She stepped backward and stretched a hand out to him. He grasped it and pulled her against him. Her pain beat at him, but so did his own. “Did you desire them so much?”
Harley snorted and turned in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his waist. “No, I used them. Every last one.”
“Why?”
With soft back and forth motions of her cheek, she caressed his chest. “I was horny and lonely. Selfish reasons, I know. I couldn’t help it.” She leaned back and met his gaze. “Your eyes haunted me. I couldn’t let you go, so I used them as substitutes, but it never worked. None completed me.” She trailed her finger over his chest. “They weren’t you.”
Her answered eased him, yet filled him with remorse. “I left a piece of me with you when I shared my knowledge and strength so you’d be able to find me and not fear what I am.” He ran his hands over her back in an effort to soothe them both. He hated the confusion and loneliness he’d caused her. “I am sorry I didn’t explain it to you. I should have.”
Calan waited for her to absolve him of the sin. She didn’t. After a long moment, she sighed. “Get me out of here. Please.”
He swept her into his arms and strode outside. His horse no longer stood where he’d left him. The morning sun brightened the landscape. His stallion would’ve returned to the Underworld with the first rays of light.
He surveyed the vacant lot. They’d have to return to Harley’s house by human means. “We need a car.”
She reached into her back pocket and retrieved her cell. After a couple of swipes of her finger, she pressed the cell phone to her ear. “Hey, it’s me. Come out to the warehouse behind Cynthia’s house. We need a ride.”
He heard Ian’s mumbled agreement, then she pressed a button on the phone and slid it into her pocket.
“Ian’s coming.”
Calan nodded. He didn’t know what to say to make this situation better. Besides, words couldn’t take away the hurt: for herself, her brother, and all those killed by Raul.
He rested his head on hers. He hated knowing he’d failed to protect her for all the years they’d been separated, but he finally had her in his arms. Nothing would ever hurt her again. He’d make sure of it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sensing her anxiety, Calan bent to kiss Harley. She scooted under his arm and walked into the kitchen of her home. Hands fisted so he didn’t yank her back to him, he followed and leaned against the wall. She set a loaf of bread on the center island and moved to the fridge.
“We do not require food, Harley. We are eternal.”
She shrugged and continued pulling meat and condiments out of the stainless-steel refrigerator.
He watched her sluggish movements a moment more, then sighed. It didn’t take much to guess what bothered her—Ian’s pain.
They’d spent most of the day with him, helping him search for Cynthia, a futile endeavor. Calan had his dogs compare the scent in warehouse to that of something that belonged to Cynthia. They’d confirmed her scent lingered near the fairy ring, but so did the scents of all the humans who’d died in her house. The sluagh had returned to the building, covered in the blood of its victims. Considering she was the only human unaccounted for, however, it seemed likely she’d been the killer.
Ian hadn’t wanted to accept the possibility and insisted they look for her, so they’d wandered the town. As the afternoon approached, Ian had grown agitated, however. He’d called off the search and stormed home, leaving Harley to wallow in guilt.
Calan stepped behind her and linked his arms around her waist. “Don’t suffer in silence. It’s my duty and privilege to ease you in any way I can.”
She laid her head against his chest. “Unless you can bring Cynthia’s family back to life or find her alive and well, you can’t.”
“You know that’s impossible.”
“Then, let me be.” She skimmed her fingers over his forearms. “When I’m upset, I eat. It’s just a way for me to cope.” Harley tipped her head to meet his gaze. “Okay?”
She would’ve needed ways to deal with her sadness and anger. If food helped, then they’d eat.
“Yes, okay.” He stepped away from her and moved to the counter where she’d started making sandwiches. “Sit, and I’ll finish these.”
Without waiting to see if she complied, he opened the cabinet for dishes only to find it bare. He looked over his shoulder. “Where do you keep the plates?”
She stiffened. “Ian probably took them when he had the house cleaned. They belonged to our grandmother.”
He surveyed the kitchen and its many cabinets. The room matched the rest of the spacious house. It was big enough to easily prepare a meal for a large party. Or a Teulu of Hunters. Yes, he could see his siblings living here.
The nine-bedroom home wasn’t nearly large enough to house them all, but there was plenty of room on the property to have more buildings erected if they needed. Likely, though, his brothers and sisters would break off into smaller groups and scatter over the human realm, going where they were needed. At least they had in the past.
Once Dar was captured, though, there wouldn’t be a need to ride, at least not in the same manner as the Wild Hunt was meant to act. They’d be free. He couldn’t wait for the day to come when duty didn’t direct their lives. He pushed the thoughts away for the moment. Dreaming of the future would do little good if he failed in his goal of capturing Dar.
Calan scanned the room once more, then asked, “Do you have paper plates?”
“Probably”—her gaze darted to the basement door—“in the pantry.”
He glanced from her clenched fists to her haunted eyes. Protective instincts gripped him. He tentatively touched her mind and found the brick wall she’d erected earlier in place. Fear built it, not anger. Her rapid breathing and ashen skin supported his assumption. Why, though?
“The pantry is in the basement?” A jerk of her head answered him. He walked toward the door. “Okay. I’ll get them.”
Wide-eyed, she rushed forward and blocked him with her body. “No! I’ll go.”
“I don’t mind. You can sit at the table and rest.”
Harley ran a trembling hand through her hair. “It’s cluttered down there. You’d never find it.”
He wanted to demand she tell him why she didn’t want him to see what was in the basement, but her closed-off expression warned him to tread cautiously. “You’re sure?”
She flashed him a smile—a fake one that left her eyes hollow. “Of course. Be back in a minute.”
She turned, took a deep breath and yanked open the door. Stale, dank, dusty air spilled out. She coughed into her arm.
“There’re no windows, and the basement runs the length of the house.” Harley flicked two switches on the wall. Lights flared. A motor kicked on. A few moments later, the noise dimmed to a low hum. “The fan will take a bit to circulate the air. There’s a purifier attached to it and a humidifier. If it’s running all the time, it’s quite pleasant. It doesn’t get too hot or cold down there. The bulbs installed in the fixtures mimic natural sunlight too.”
She was rambling, not even looking at him while she spoke. The tremor in her hands worsened.
“That’s an elaborate setup for storage space.”
“A mini apartment?”
She swallowed loud enough for him to hear. “Something like that.”
After a minute where she only stared at the staircase, he asked, “Would you rather I go?”
“Oh no.” She gave him another empty smile. “I just got lost in thought. There are so many memories here.”
“Not all good ones.”
Harley shook her head. “No, not even close.”
Before he could say anything else, she walked down the stairs and disappeared around the corner. He waited a moment, then followed.
He found her standing at the end of a short hallway. Three doorways led from it, two open ones and one made out of metal. He approached, the clunk of his boots on the cement floor announcing his presence. She didn’t move. He stepped behind her and rested his hand on her hip.
A quick peek into the open rooms showed the pantry with shelves lining the wall and a small space that had obviously once been used as an indoor garden. Ceramic pots, bags of soil and packets of seeds were scattered over the tables.
He faced the metal door. There was no handle on it. A dead bolt kept it closed. An idea formed that threatened to enrage him. “The living space you mentioned is behind this door?”
She leaned back, and he wrapped his arms around her. “Yes. It was mine.”
He stared at the heavy-duty locking mechanism and fought to keep his anger in check. Harley needed his comfort, not his fury.
“You”—he cracked his jaw—“lived in the basement?”
“Not always. I had a room upstairs too, but it didn’t have windows either.”
“Why were you sent here?” He’d guess protection, but he wanted Harley’s take on it. With the way she reacted at the mention of the basement, spending time downstairs hadn’t been welcome or pleasant.
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