Kyn 3: Feral (3 page)

Originally a triple Goddess dedicated to war the Morrigan had diminished into one form, currently that of Nemain, and become a fixture of the Unseelie Court, mostly riding with the Host. No one was really sure how much of her divine power she had retained.

What was known was the woman was batty... even by Fae standards. Madness ran in the line and touched each new Morrigan as she came into her power. Not that anyone would dare say it to her face. There was still something about a former Goddess, especially a corpse Goddess, which sent chills down a person’s spine.

“Well there's this old legend about the line. They're all female. No male children born in the line whatsoever, never has been. But they say when there
is
a male Morrigan born, he'll be the Winter King.”

“O...k, this is a bad thing, right?” Feral asked carefully and grimaced as the little guy they were discussing decided to slobber all over his shoulder.

She shrugged, “It could really upset the balance of power in the Fae courts for starters. The rest I'm not so sure on, the legends are vague. Apparently the Morrigan knows more about it... there's a book, an old one, on it. But she has never let anyone read it, doesn't like to talk about it.”

“Ok, so not end of the world type stuff... but imbalance is probably bad, right? And if he's Fae, not a Pixie, what's with the fluorescent 'do?”

“Well Pixies
are
actually Fae,” Her lips quirked in amusement. “We just don't like to admit it too loudly. And imbalance bad, yes. You can pop him down on the floor to roll around, this place is kiddie-proof.”

Feral did as he was told, a quick glance around reassured him she was telling the truth. Soft carpets and furnishings, all hard edges on the furniture had little cushioned pads.

Amazing what you missed when you weren't looking properly. He had been convinced this place was an interior design showpiece but when you looked you could see care had been taken to make it suitable for children. Not sure why he cared that much, especially with a kid he just had dumped on his doorstep. Feral put the baby on the floor carefully, leaving him giggling and playing with a soft toy Tessa had waved in front of him Like his place, the kitchen was just off the living area, a large breakfast counter separated the two. He leaned against the counter, his arms folded over his broad chest as he watched her bustle around the small space. Now the baby had been sorted and didn't smell so bad he could finally appreciate the way she looked.

She was small, barely grazed his shoulder and wrapped in a terry towel robe designed for someone far larger than she was. The voluminous fabric buried her, cinched in tight around a wasp waist.

“I'll make him up a bottle,” She was saying, not realising Feral's attention was elsewhere at the moment. Like on the deep vee at her neckline which kept gaping a little, teasing his imagination with fascinating glimpses of the creamy skin underneath. “We don't know when he last ate so better be safe than sorry... uhm, do vampires drink coffee?” She queried, looking up to catch him looking at her.

They locked eyes for a moment before she blushed and looked away, leaving a little smile on Feral's face. He read the interest there, the awareness of him as a man, and it pleased him on levels he didn't realise existed.

“Yeah, we drink coffee,” he rumbled, his voice low in the sudden silence.

“Actually most of us can eat and drink... we just don’t most of the time. Some prefer not to at all. Myself, I'm partial to a beer and a pizza,” he offered with a smile, as he realised having a vampire in your apartment (or your sisters at any rate) must be a little worrying.

After all, he wasn't the smallest of Kyn and compared to your average Pixie or Human, he was huge.

She flashed him a grin, “Sounds like the perfect date,” Her voice was light as she opened a cupboard to put two mugs on the side. “Pepperoni pizza with all the trimmings?”

Feral grinned. “Why? You angling for a date, Tessa?”

She arched an eyebrow as she poured the bottling water into the bottle, measured out and mixed the formula with an experienced hand. She popped the bottle into a jug of cold water to cool and looked at him. “Hmm, depends... Pixies are better kissers than vamps,” she replied, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

This time it was Feral's eyebrow winging its way up to his shaven hairline. “Is that so little Pixie?” he asked, a dangerous edge in his voice belied by the twinkle in his eyes.

“Yup!” She pushed a mug towards him, leaned her hips back against the side as she lifted her own to her lips, blowing the steam on the top. Her wide, dark eyes glanced at him over the rim, laughter dancing in them. Pixies liked to live dangerously, seemed it was true of the women as well as the men. But where the men liked to get into fights, Tessa was playing a whole different sort of game. One Feral was more than happy to play.

“Well I can't let this slur to the Kyn go unpunished,” He pushed off from the counter and sauntered towards her step by slow step. He could move faster than the eye could see, mortal or Pixie, but this wasn't about speed. It was about the awareness tingling between them, about feeding it to see where it would lead. And about getting a taste of those full, pouting lips. Lips that held a soft smile of invitation.

He reached her and took the mug from her unresisting hands. “I figure I'm going to have to do something about it,” He put the mug on the counter behind her and boxed her in with a hand on the counter either side of her hips as he lowered his head.

The softness of her lips took him by surprise, warm, and pliant under his. There was no coyness in her response, her lips yielded under his gentle coaxing and her arms lifted to wrap around his shoulders. He groaned as she stroked her tongue along his playfully, shifting to wrap her in his arms as he deepened the kiss.

By the time he lifted his head both their breathing was ragged and high bands of colour highlighted her cheeks. Feral rested his forehead against hers for a moment and then smiled. “I agree,” He breathed, “Pixies are
great
kissers.”

Two hours later Tessa escaped to the solitude of the bathroom, closing the door and leaning back against it. He was
gorgeous
! She pinched herself to make sure she wasn't just imagining what was going on. She fully expected to wake up on the sofa to find her film over and her ice-cream melted and dribbling all over the floor.

“Ouch!” She rubbed the sore spot on her arm. Ok, so she was awake and this was really happening. She couldn't believe it; these sorts of things didn't happen to her. In her world Feral would have just dumped the baby and disappeared. But he hadn't, insisting on sticking around in case they 'needed anything'.

Tessa sighed and ran a hand over her still tingling lips. Then there was the kiss. She had
never
been kissed that way before, not ever. Slow and thorough, it had been a devastating kiss which had left her weak at the knees and breathless. Breathless. Anyone would have thought she had been out running the hundred metres. No one had kissed her and made her breathless before!

She moved over to the sink, splashed water on her face before looking into the mirror.

God, she looked awful!! No makeup, her hair scraped back.

“Ick,” she muttered under her breath, closed her eyes and concentrated a moment. She was half pixie, on her mother’s side, so low level glamour was all she could achieve. Luckily that was all she needed to tone down the more exotic elements of her appearance, making her almond shaped eyes slant a little less, dull the colour of her eyes a little and alter the shape of her cheeks so she appeared just like the dull looking humans she lived among. It was easier for female pixies, without the peacock like colouring of their male counterparts.

But with a man like Feral in the next room, a vampire who knew all about the world she couldn't talk about, Tessa gave into vanity and relaxed the glamour a little. She smiled and pulled the tie from her hair, releasing the gold flecked waves. Without the glamour covering it, thin strands of pure gold wove through the dark mass. Her one claim to beauty.

Her lips quirked as she shook her head at her own silliness. She would never be a supermodel that's for sure, she was more curvy than the usual stick insect not to mention at least a foot too short for the job. Besides, what woman looked glamorous when looking after a baby? Already she had baby drool on one shoulder of the t-shirt she had thrown on with a pair of jeans earlier, and spilled formula decorated her thigh.

Ahh well, she was used to babysitting she thought, washing her hands, and it was no hardship. The baby was a cute little thing, more developed than she'd have expected, making her and Feral laugh earlier as they chatted on the sofa.

It wouldn't be for long though, she left voice-mail messages for just about everyone she could think of. Someone, somewhere, had to know if there was a baby missing. In fact, she was surprised someone wasn't knocking the door down already, he really was a cute little thing. Then there was the weird note. She couldn't make out more than a few words about the Morrigan and him being the Winter King but she didn't believe that. Did she?

She shook her head as she headed out of the bathroom. No, it was too old a legend to pay much credence to. No doubt the work of fanatics, the Fae seemed to collect them like other species collected knick-knacks.

“So how's he doing?” she checked as she walked back into the main room. The scene which met her, the half naked man sprawled across the sofa, almost dwarfing it, and the baby crawling around the floor, made her pause for a second. A strange feeling buzzed in her head, her vision swimming in and out as the edges blackened.
Dejá-vu, she'd seen this before... or
she would.

“Hey there... you ok?” Feral's concerned voice brought her back to the present and she blinked to clear her vision.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Just felt a bit... odd there for a moment. Is he ok?” She smiled in reassurance and walked around the sofa to check on the baby.

“Yeah, he's a happy little bunny down here... chewin' on my phone. You know, we should decide on a name for him. We can't keep calling him 'the baby'... was there anything about his name on that note?” Feral sat forward and rested his forearms on his knees to look down at the object under discussion.

Tessa glanced at the note on the counter and shook her head. “Not that I can work out.

I flunked ancient Fae I'm afraid,” Her lips quirked a little. “I never was what you could call academic.”

She settled back on the sofa next to him. “Without knowing what his parents, whoever they are, called him it's difficult. Calling him something else might confuse him, but he seems bright to me and if just for a little while... What do you reckon, what do you think we should call him?”

They settled on 'Spud' for some reason. But, like so much this evening, the reason why had bypassed Feral completely. He'd never met a woman who could shift his attention and divert him like she could. It was a new sensation for the large Kyn Warrior.

She was beautiful. When she had come back from the bathroom with her glamour stripped away, her true features, only hinted at before, had been revealed. Exotic, feline cast features which had taken his breath away. He thought he could see through Pixie glamour, a talent granted by his own paranormal blood. But now he realised the truth, he could see the glamour itself and the
potential
of what lay beyond but nothing more. A realisation which was a little levelling to say the least.

Left alone in the kitchen whilst Tessa put the newly named Spud down for the evening Feral smoothed a large hand over his head, rubbing at the thick stubble there. Like most Kyn he had a full head of hair, baldness wasn't something the species as a whole suffered from, but he preferred to shave it short. There was nothing an opponent could grab hold of, a preference he developed after a rogue vamp had ripped a chunk of it out by the roots. Damn that had hurt! Now, the frequent use of a razor kept it in check, but the five o'clock shadow could be a bitch.

Leaning back against the counter the large Kyn wondered what the hell he was still doing here. It was the sort of cosy scene he normally cut off an arm or a leg to avoid, beating a hasty retreat if he chanced across it down at the compound. Which was getting harder and harder.

The compound, once the reserve of the mostly male Warriors, each with a higher testosterone count than a squad of marines, had been over-run with cooing couples. It was as if the recent marriage of their King, Marak, had opened the floodgates. Now all the warriors were pairing off, his patrol partner Vix, amongst them.

They may as well rename the place the 'Happy Kyn Night Nursery' and have done with it. It was the main reason he and several of the other guys, all die-hard commitment-phobes, had beat a hasty retreat and moved out to bachelor pads.

Feral rubbed his head again. He didn't have an answer, although he suspected it had a lot more to do with Tessa than he wanted to think about. His hand moved down, rubbed absently at the sticky patch across his naked shoulder. He grimaced and pushed away from the counter and headed for the bathroom, he could do with a wash whilst Tessa was busy with the baby.

Tessa however, had already finished with the baby. He had gone down like a dream, nestled in one of the twin’s cots. She shook her head in disbelief, they hadn't even left a toy or comfort blanket with him. No wonder he latched onto the blue fluffy elephant, one of the twin's abandoned toys, she waved in front of him. She wandered back through the main bedroom, and opened her overnight bag. She had a shower earlier but thanks to Spud there throwing up on her she felt sticky.

She padded through to the main bathroom, her feet silent on the thick carpet.

Although the small apartment only had one bathroom, the architects had created the illusion of luxury and an en-suite by giving the bathroom two doors, one in the apartment’s main corridor and one from the master bedroom.

She draped her towel over the rail and stripped off. Her dirty clothes hit the deck, kicked into the corner as she snapped on the shower. Reaching up she twisted her hair on top of her head and clipped it into place as she stepped into the shower. Since she showered earlier the needle pressure of the water lacked the same 'ooooh' relief factor. She just needed a quick wash to get rid of the funky baby-sick odour.