Cruel Enchantment (21 page)

“I
want to know everything about you.” Kiya leaned toward David and smiled, her dark hair shadowing half her face. They sat under a tree at a local park, watching the kids play on a swing set. “I want to know where you were born and how you grew up. I want to know your favorite color, your favorite movies, and what kind of music you listen to. Everything.”

He laughed. “I want to know all that about you, too.”

“Okay, then let’s make it a game. I’ll ask you a question, then you ask me a question. We can switch off and learn more about each other.”

“Sounds like fun.” He caught her nape and pulled her toward him for a kiss. Their lips meshed and he drank in the delicious soft flavor of her before she backed away, smiling.

David was in love.

God, how did a man fall in love this fast?

Wait, that was a dumb thing to wonder. He’d fallen in love this fast with Emmaline. In just a little over twenty-four hours of being in her company he’d been head over heels and ready to propose marriage, which he’d done only a scant three months later.

A couple of his buddies in the HFF had said it was because he was fae-struck. They meant he was one of the humans who were instantly enamored of anything fae just because it was fae. Admittedly, there were two types of person drawn to the HFF. Those who were staunchly behind fae rights and the fae-struck.

He was firmly in the first camp.

He’d fallen in love with Emmaline for many different reasons, none of them her looks, since he’d never known what she truly looked like. He’d loved her intelligence and her self-deprecating sense of humor. He’d found her interesting, charming, and easy to talk to. He’d also been drawn to her vulnerability, how even though she’d had so many years to figure it out, she still didn’t know who she was. That bothered Emmaline and made her a touch insecure. He’d even loved her insecurity.

David knew that the identity problem had been caused by the fact that she’d had to leave her people when she was still young. She’d spent the vast majority of her life as a freak among humans.

It was all the Blacksmith’s fault. Every bit of it.

The Blacksmith was the reason she’d run and had been forced to give up all ties to her heritage. Unfortunately, David had always believed that it was the Blacksmith who had possessed a part of her heart all these years, too. He was the reason Emmaline had never been able to give herself to him completely while they were married.

And now Emmaline was with that dick. Guised or not, it was risky. David worried about her more every day that passed without word.

Though Kiya was doing her best to keep him distracted. That was good, since there was nothing David could do for Emmaline.

“David?”

He jerked in surprise and looked at Kiya.

She frowned, her lovely, perfect brow creasing. “You were a million miles away. What are you thinking about?”

The sound of the children playing on the swing set seemed to grow louder for a moment as he sought an answer that wouldn’t hurt her feelings. He guessed
I was thinking of my ex-wife
wasn’t something most women wanted to hear when on a date. He didn’t want Kiya to think he was still hung up on Emmaline romantically, because he wasn’t. Not really.

Maybe just a little.

“I’m worried about a friend, that’s all.” He flashed a smile. “Someone back in the States.”

“Oh. Anything I can do to help?”

He shook his head. “No. This friend is in a tight spot, I think, but she’s all alone on this one.”

She stared at the children for a few moments. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

No. He didn’t want to talk about Emmaline. He didn’t want her ruling his head anymore and especially not his heart. He didn’t want to be worried about her and he didn’t want her coming between him and a beautiful, caring woman he could easily bring home to his mother . . . if his mother didn’t live all the way in Kansas.

David turned to Kiya and eased the plastic cup filled with tea that she was drinking out of her hands and set it on the grass. She looked a little surprised as he leaned into her and cupped her cheek, gently laying his lips on hers.

She sighed against his mouth and kissed him back.

Emmaline had broken his heart and ruined him for other women for a long time. He couldn’t allow her that kind of power over him anymore. It was time he embraced the possibilities of his future.

Kiya was such a possibility.

She was vibrant, intelligent, and beautiful. He could spend hours just talking to her. Her hand fit really well in his, and she had a huge heart that he wanted to spend decades exploring the depths of.

If this went further than just a brief affair, they would make it work somehow. If it was meant to be, it would be. But no longer would he allow the ghost of Emmaline’s love to dictate his future, just as Emmaline should never have allowed the ghost of her love for Aeric Killian Riordan O’Malley to rule her marriage to another man.

He would not make the same mistakes she had. He would not remain emotionally committed to a woman he could never be with . . . one who didn’t want to be with him.

Kiya set her forehead to his and smiled so beautifully his breath caught. “I’ll go first. What was your childhood like?”

 

 

EMMALINE
stood watching Aeric whittle at the key and sighed. The tails of his black linen shirt were untucked from his jeans and his feet were bare. Damn, he was beautiful. She was so stupid to carry such strong emotional ties to a man she could never have. A man who didn’t want her in any way but a sexual one.

Hells, even if Aeric wanted her in more than a sexual way, it wasn’t like she was staying here. She shuddered. No way was she getting trapped in Piefferburg if she could help it. Just the thought made her feel claustrophobic.

He set the key and the knife aside. Pushing both his hands through his hair, he groaned.

“Are you all right?”

He glanced at her. “It takes all my concentration to carve this thing. The ones who designed the key and the box never meant for it to be easy. My magick is tapped for now, so I’ll have to continue tomorrow. This may take longer than I thought.”

Doom clouded her stomach black for a moment. She worried about David over in Israel, but she knew Aeric could only work as fast as he was able.

“It was us, the fae,” she answered. “That’s who we think hid the parts of the
bosca fadbh
. Long ago.” She levered herself down into the chair opposite him. Her injury was much better, but not yet totally healed. “After the fae and the Phaendir had their falling-out.”

Once upon a time the fae and the Phaendir had been friends and allies. Something had happened to cause a rift and eventually make them become enemies. Most thought it had been the rise of Labrai and the Phaendir religion that had caused the wedge.

In order to deny the Phaendir the power of the Book of Bindings, the fae had hidden the book and the pieces of the
bosca fadbh
, the key that opened the back of the book, where the strongest spells were kept, all over the planet. That was what was thought, anyway. Most of the records from that time were destroyed and not even fae lived for a millennium.

There were some fae who could delve deep into the line of maternal and paternal memory, traveling back in time and viewing the memories of an individual’s ancestors. All the information the fae had about this subject came from those with that ability, but it was tricky to find the fae with the right memories to search.

Aeric leaned back in his chair, looking exhausted. “You look worried.”

She chewed her lip. “I am.”

“About David, huh?”

She nodded.

“Tell me about him.”

She looked up at him. “David? Why do you want to know about him?”

“He’s your ex-husband, right? The only man you ever married? You said that before.”

“Yes. We were married for just a few years. We weren’t right for each other, but he’s still a close friend of mine. I care very much about him. He’s a good man, intelligent, and very into doing the right thing. He’s dedicated his life to the goal of fae rights.”

“Even the goblins? Even the Unseelie? Even Will the Smith, the boggarts, and the alps? The fae aren’t all the shining Seelie or the harmless troop, after all. A lot of us are monsters.”

“David would point out that the fae and the humans lived side by side for eons without incident before Piefferburg, so why not now?”

Aeric bared his teeth for a moment. “Because the fae never had an ax to grind with the humans before Piefferburg. We’re a proud people with a long memory. Humans shouldn’t assume we won’t hurt them if we get out of here.”

Anger surged through her veins in a hot white flash. “It’s the Phaendir who deserve the ire of the fae, not humanity.”

“Tell that to the goblins.”

“We will, if we’re ever able to break the warding.”

“It’s naïve of you to think they’ll listen. I never pegged you, of all people, for naïve.”

“Look, do you want out of Piefferburg or not?”

He gave her a withering look. “I wouldn’t be breaking my magick against this key if I didn’t.”

“Then what’s your problem?”

“Woman.”
He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth for a moment. “You always mix everything up in my head. From day one you did that. I want out of Piefferburg, but the humans can expect repercussions if we get free.” His expression turned savage. “The Phaendir can expect death.”

“The fae were here before the humans. They have just as much right to live free as everyone else.”

“At least we can agree on that.”

“Once those walls break, it will be open season on Phaendir. The fae will go after them, not the regular joes. I feel confident the goblins and other Unseelie races won’t hurt the humans if they’re reasoned with.”

He snorted. “Good luck with that.” He stared hard at her. “Why do you talk about the fae in terms of them instead of us? Why do you identify with the humans?”

She shifted in her seat and looked away from him. “Because I don’t really remember what it is to be fae, Aeric, if you really must know.”

He nodded. “How does it feel to finally get that mask off?”

She looked at him, held his gaze for a long heartbeat. “Good. It feels really good.”

He smiled and her heart broke a little. “You look better without it.”

“Better . . . natural?”

“Oh, yeah. I love the way you look.” He studied her with heavily lidded eyes. Her mouth went dry at the expression he wore, as if he was thinking about all the different ways he wanted her in that bed over there.

A sound in the distance caught her ear and made it twitch. “Do you hear that?”

He listened for a heartbeat and then rose, going to the door and opening it.

“Sounds like a drum,” she said, pushing up and hobbling over to him, using her crutch.

“That’s no drum like you know. That sounds like a bodhrán or two.”

“Bough-rawn?”

He nodded and grinned at her. “Yeah, bodhrán. You really are out of touch with your people.”

She frowned at him.

He grinned. “Come on, kitten, we’re going to find the source of that sound.”

“What about Kolbjorn?”

“He’s got no idea we’re out here in the Boundary Lands. Even if he did, he wouldn’t have the first clue where to look. No one short of one of the royals could find us out here, unless they were blessed by Danu herself.”

She peered out the door and into the twilight thick woods, the sound of the music growing louder. The tribal beat called to her, igniting her fae blood. She wanted to go. “If you say so.”

“I say so. Let’s go dance.” He glanced at her leg. “Or hop, as the case may be.”

It wasn’t hard to find the celebration since it wasn’t far away. The musicians had set up in a clearing in the woods, lights from the sprae twinkling around them and the lush sentient foliage pulling back to provide them more room. Even as she watched, vines sprouted with blossoms and grew around her, unfurling their petals to the world and releasing their perfume into the air.

On one edge of the clearing stood five members of a band, four men and one woman. Scots fae, Emmaline judged. The Scottish fae were of a smaller number than the Irish, having fared less well for some reason with Watt syndrome, though their customs and traditions were rich and touched all the fae. It was from the Scottish that the tradition of the Unseelie and Seelie courts had come originally, though court culture was a blend of all the fae cultures now. These musicians were not of either court; they were nature fae of some sort. Or so Emmaline presumed.

All four of the men were shirtless, wearing only well-loved kilts in the ancient way around their waists and all of them in knee-high leather boots. Tattoos writhed over their muscled chests and down their arms—two men on bodhrán, one on a huge drum, and the other on a set of bagpipes. The woman, also dressed in a tartan of the same color, was barefoot and with leaves and twigs wound artfully through her long brown hair. She also played drums.

The music they played was like magick, the beat of the drums, the bodhrán, and the bagpipes singing through her blood and waking parts of her psyche she’d thought dead. The beat pounded through the earth at her feet, through her legs. If she imagined it hard enough, the music healed her wounds—more than just one of them.

In the clearing, in front and around the musicians, the birch ladies danced. In flowing gowns of white or earth tones, the fabric moved around their forms as they swirled and leapt in the moonlight, catching sometimes on the forms of their consorts—strong men dressed in tones of black, brown, and green. All of them appeared to be a natural part of their verdant surroundings, which they were. These were the fae of the wild places; they helped sustained the forests of the earth. The rest of the world had suffered the loss of their presence greatly.