Faery Tales & Nightmares (33 page)

Keenan laughed, but he kept his gaze on the road as she continued pointedly looking at him. Once she’d thought she took pleasure in looking at him because she couldn’t touch him, but now, she realized that it was simply the sight of him that pleased her. His sunlit skin hadn’t entirely faded when he’d become mortal. Unlike the mostly snow-pale faeries of her court, Keenan retained the sun-darkened skin he’d had as Summer King. His eyes were an icy blue now, but they were still beautiful enough to remind her why she’d stumbled over her own name when he’d first approached her almost a century ago—back when
she
was the mortal one.

He was relaxed, and even though he’d shed some of the volatility of the Summer Court, he was still impetuous. He’d been born of both Summer and Winter, so even after surrendering his sunlight and his faery nature, his nature was mixed in a way that hers wasn’t. Although, as he reminded her regularly, Winter wasn’t
only
calm either. Together, they’d found a peace, but it hadn’t dampened their passion at all. If anything, their passion had increased because they understood each other more fully.

Even if I’m not able to be impulsive
.

Even if I must worry that I’ll injure him
.

As a queen, not merely a faery burdened with the ice, she had control of herself. It was difficult, though, and she understood why Keenan had never lain with mortals. Every time they touched, she worried that she would lose control too much, but then he smiled at her, and she couldn’t say no.

For years, Keenan had made her believe in the impossible; he had made her strong enough to believe she could defeat monsters, to risk everything for his smile, to laugh even when they were facing daunting trials.
Because he is beside me
. She wanted to believe in the impossible now, but it was different when the risk was that she would lose him. Now that he was truly hers, she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to risk anything that could take him away.
Is it better to have him for a few years, knowing he will die, or to take the risk that could either give us eternity—or end the years we do have
?

“Are you with me?”

“I am,” she whispered. “I love you.”

He did glance at her this time. “You too. Always.” He paused, looked back at the road, and asked, “Okay, I give. What’s up? I know you, Don. You have that faraway look again.”

“I was thinking about us and … things.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m glad you suggested this trip.”

“And?”

Donia gave him a reassuring smile. “You make me happy, and I want
you
to be happy. So… no more worrying. We’re out here on a normal ‘human’ holiday.” She swept her arm out, gesturing at the traffic on the freeway, the roadside advertisements, and the lights of buildings she could see along the exit. “You’re
new
to being human, and it’s been almost a century since I was human. Back then…” She laughed at the sudden memory of her father’s scowling face. “Do you remember when you asked Papa to let you walk me home?”

Keenan switched lanes and directed the car onto the freeway exit. “He thought I had impure intentions.”

“You did,” she teased.

“I wanted your heart more, Don.” He said nothing else until he pulled into a parking spot. He turned off the engine and grinned at her before adding, “Of course, I wanted your body too. I still do. I
always
have.”

She laughed. “Likewise.”

Keenan felt tension he hadn’t even realized he was carrying slip away as he opened Donia’s door and took her hand. Traveling with Donia was new. In all of the years they’d known each other, they’d never simply traveled for fun.
Or alone
. In truth, vacation itself was a peculiar experience for Keenan. He’d only ever been away from his court for a few short months in his centuries of living, and even then, he hadn’t been able to step away from the thoughts of the conflict he’d be returning to confront. Now, however, he was determined to enjoy an utterly peaceful trip with his beloved.

“Rest stops,” Keenan said. “I’m not sure about these.”

“You wanted a ‘human experience.’” Donia smothered a smile. “‘Road trips,’ you said. ‘Perfectly ordinary nonroyal travel,’ you said.”

Keenan looked at the litter-strewn ground, tables fastened down, and overtired families who all seemed to have dogs in their cars. With Sasha in the backseat, they almost looked like they fit in.

Nonroyal. Just us
.

“You’re right.” He zipped his jacket. “I believe these sorts of trips include nonscheduled diversions too.”

The look Donia gave him was more suspicious than he expected. “Keenan…”

“Be right back. You can … walk our dog.” He grinned at Sasha, who bared his teeth in reply. Keenan laughed.

Donia and Sasha both watched him with expressions somewhere between bemused and irritated as he went into the building advertising itself as a “Welcome Center.”

Inside, he started gathering pamphlets on everything from wine tasting to caving to antique malls to a “miniature-golf extravaganza.” He pulled out one for a hiking trail, another for an indoor racetrack, and several for bed-and-breakfasts.

“Can I help you?” an older woman offered.

“I’m on a vacation,” he said. “With my … girlfriend.” He looked over his shoulder as the door to the small building opened and a gust of cold air blew in.
Because Winter herself stepped inside
. He stared at her, his forever love. Quietly, he told the human woman, “I’m going to marry her. She’s perfect.”

The woman looked at Donia. “Is that a
wolf
?” she asked. “You can’t bring animals in here…. Actually, you can’t bring
wolves
in anywhere. What—”

“Sasha, wait for us at the car.” Donia opened the door, and the wolf padded outside and to the car.

As Keenan watched through the window, Sasha leaped onto the roof of the car and stretched out. His gaze didn’t waver from Donia.

“Apparently I’m not protection enough in my … condition.” Keenan looked back at the rack of pamphlets.

Donia walked over to stand beside him. She pulled out a pamphlet and flipped it over. “What’s a zip line?”

The pamphlet she held out showed a girl hanging from a wire in a contraption that looked like a cross between a trapeze and a saddle of sorts. The girl wore a helmet and gloves, and she looked like she was midlaugh as she was suspended over a chasm. Keenan skimmed the pamphlet and read
Evergreen Hills … four seasons resort … trails … zip line … ski slopes
. He looked at Donia. “Our destination.”

Several hours later, they pulled into the parking lot of a roadside motel. It wasn’t their final destination, but Keenan saw no need to drive all day.
Stops to rest and enjoy ourselves
. He walked inside, feeling relaxed and exceedingly pleased with how well their trip was going.

The motel was everything that their home wasn’t: it was plain and impersonal and somehow oddly charming.

“Do you need me to do this?” Donia asked in a deceptively innocent voice.

“I can do it.” Keenan stepped up to the counter. “We need a room.”

The woman at the counter looked at him from the tips of his boots to the jeans to gray leather jacket to the loosely wound scarf around his neck. “I’ll need ID.”

“ID?” he echoed.

“You need to be old enough to rent a room, pay up front, and—”

“Why?” He didn’t know if he’d ever rented a room. As he stood there at the faux wood front desk, he realized that his guards or advisors had handled this sort of thing. He glanced over his shoulder at Donia. She turned her back, but not quickly enough that he missed her smothered laugh.

The receptionist said, “You need ID and a deposit in order to rent a room here.”

“Identification cards and deposits in case we”—he forced himself to look away from Donia and turned to the receptionist again—“do what?”

“Break things. Steal them.” She rolled her eyes.

“What do you think?” he asked Donia as she walked up behind him.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, and whispered, “I think you are used to having someone else do this.”

“True.” He read the name badge of the woman at the desk—Cinnamon—smiled at her, and asked, “Cinnamon, do you suppose—”

“No.” She scowled. “No ID, no deposit, no
room
. Your sort all think that works. Smile pretty, and we’ll roll over. Not going to happen.”

Donia was laughing out loud. Between giggles, she said, “Just like old times, isn’t it? You think turning on your charm will work, and I get to watch you fail.”

Shocked, Keenan turned to look at his beloved, and for a moment he was speechless. Donia was
laughing
over the curse, the competitions they’d waged over the mortal girls he’d tried to convince to take the test to be his queen.

As he turned, Donia kept her arms around him. She looked up at him. “If the girls who weren’t charmed had known what I know, they’d have been a lot easier to convince.”

“What’s that?”

She released him from her embrace and put her hands flat on his chest. “The … person behind the smile.” She stretched up and kissed him, twining her arms around his neck as she did so.

Without stopping kissing her, he swept her up into his arms. They stood in the motel lobby kissing until someone called, “Get a room.”

Donia pulled back and laughed. “That was the plan. They said no.”

At that, Keenan smiled.
This
was what he wanted: Donia happy. That was what he wanted every day now. The Winter Court mattered to him as much as the Summer Court had, but there was no struggle, no worrying over
how
to take care of the court. Donia’s court was healthy and, quite simply, the strongest of the courts. Whether Donia agreed to let him test his theory to become fey again or not, Keenan’s primary responsibility would still be one he undertook gladly: making sure Donia was happy. The difference, unfortunately, was that unless Donia agreed to let him try to become fey again, he’d only be able to do so for a blink. Mortal life spans were so brief as to be a heartbeat in the eternity that they
could
have if he became fey again.

He carried her out of the lobby and to the car, where Sasha waited. Beside the car, he lowered her feet to the ground. “So, navigating this human world seems a bit more complicated than I thought.”

Donia slid a hand into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet. She opened it, and extracted two cards. “Not really. Hand her these.” She held one up. “Identification.” Then she held up the other one. “Credit card.”

“Oh.” He frowned. “Are those new?”

“No. Cwenhild had them procured for you last month.” Donia slipped them back into the wallet, returned it to his pocket, and kissed him again. A few moments later she pulled back and opened her car door. “Come on.”

“But if I had them…”

She shrugged. “I figured if you couldn’t charm her, she has bad taste. Why stay in a motel where they have bad taste?”

“You’re a peculiar faery, Donia.” He walked around the side of the car and got in.

“We’ll find a nicer place. There’s a bed-and-breakfast I saw that looked pretty,” she suggested as she sorted through the pamphlets they’d collected.

And Keenan figured it didn’t much matter why she wanted to stay elsewhere. He’d walk in and out of every hotel and motel along the road if it made her smile and relax.

A short while later, they were settled into an admittedly nicer hotel. Sasha was out wandering now that they were stopped for the night, and Keenan and Donia were alone in their “honey-moon suite.” He had opened the doors to the balcony, and snowflakes were fluttering into the room. Donia still marveled at seeing her oncesunlit faery not flinch from the snow.
From me
. She’d thought she was done being surprised when she became Winter Queen. She hadn’t expected that—or becoming a faery or that the boy she’d fallen in love with so many years ago was anything other than human.

Or that he’d ever become a human
.

He’d sacrificed immortality and strength for her. In part, he’d sacrificed his court for her. Now, he wanted to risk the brief human life he still had.
For me
. She knew there were plenty of dangers if he remained human: he was vulnerable to threats from any faery that crossed their path—and Keenan had nine centuries of living during which he had made enemies; he was susceptible to human diseases, aging, and any number of threats; and he was in danger from her. The Winter that she carried in her skin could easily kill him if she lost her temper or lost control in a moment of joy.