Read Under the Bridge Online

Authors: Autumn Dawn

Tags: #urban fantasy, #paranormal romance, #shapeshifter, #fae, #troll, #pixie

Under the Bridge (15 page)

BOOK: Under the Bridge
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And then there was her house. Thanks to the
glamour on the property, her neighbors didn’t notice much that went
on here, and it was a good thing. She didn’t have much of a front
wall anymore. The house needed patching, something sustainable that
could last once she stopped the flow of magic. Her eyes traveled
out to the trees in the front yard, and she smiled with relief.
Yes, that would work.

Her magic worked well on trees, as evidenced
by the incident at the college. The house would be forever changed,
but that might be a good thing. The old wreck had needed repairs
forever.

She had no intention of chasing after Ash.
The troll could hold his own. She didn’t think Jason could take
him.

His transformation had shaken her. Knowing he
was a troll was one thing; seeing him eat a human heart was
another. He was everything she’d been warned about; she’d let
herself be blind.

Thinking of the warning made her think of
Eyrnie. She tried to call again, but got no answer. Unable to put
it off any longer, she turned to the wreck of her home. Closing her
eyes, she reached for the cold river deep within.

It was easier to reach the current this time.
Billy placed her hands on the counter and thought about what she
wanted in her new house. Kitchen, bedroom, bath. She could keep it
simple for now. Once she knew what she was capable of, she could
refine it. She held the picture in her head and asked the trees and
stones to shift.

The results were explosive. The power blasted
from her in an icy fountain, flooding the house with a brilliant
white light. Reeling, she tried to tone it down, but it was like
trying to dam the Mississippi River; every time she thought she had
it contained, it broke loose, drowning her with power.


What’s this?”

She struggled with the magic, ignoring the
voice in her head. Now she was going crazy, too.

A male voice—it felt male, at least, said
with interest,
“House building are we? Let’s give her a
hand.”
Other voices chimed in, making her stagger with the
sheer variety. She couldn’t rein in the power, couldn’t stop the
clamor in her head.

Suddenly the power was lifted from her, as if
strong hands had taken the reins of a wild horse. The earth bucked
under her feet, and she grabbed the counter as the walls cracked.
Massive tree roots burst through the walls, ripping them away. She
felt the architect in her head laugh at her modest plans, vastly
expanding their scope. Underground chambers formed, linked by a
maze of tunnels. Stone shifted through the earth, forming flagstone
floors and granite fireplaces. Sand melted and flowed into fey
lanterns that glowed blue-white.

All the while, the trees grew taller, fusing
and twisting into walls and floors, until finally closing to form a
roof high overhead. The draw on her eased as the last little
touches were finished. The power slowly seeped away, leaving her
utterly exhausted. As she sank to the floor, she heard,
“Sleep
well, daughter. Enjoy your new home.”

 

 

15. Where Have All the Good Men Gone?

 

Billy groaned as she came to on the hardwood
floor. Using the counter as leverage, she slowly got to her
feet.

The kitchen wall was no longer broken. In
fact, the room looked better than ever with polished oak floors,
hickory cabinets and modern-looking appliances. There was even a
full compliment of shiny copper pots.

The bodies were gone. She had a vague memory
of the trees absorbing them as they grew. It solved that problem,
but yuck.

Though she felt woozy, she had to see the
outside. Hurrying to the front door, she rushed down the steps,
barely catching herself as she stumbled on the new flagstone
path.

The Harley and her old car were still there,
looking strangely out of place on the freshly cobbled drive. She
leaned on the car and turned to look at the house—and stared.

The old building had been completely
absorbed, morphing into an elegant tree house that rose
three-stories from the roots to the bark shingles. The windows
glowed with cheery yellow light, and luminous moss lit the trees.
Fireflies flickered in the night, adding to the otherworldly
ambience.

A tall hedge enclosed her property in front,
while the misty woods in back seemed to stretch forever. As she
walked around the house, she could see her garden had been greatly
expanded, with new species everywhere she looked. Not only were her
bantams and quail safe, they’d added a flock of ducks. In fact, she
now had a stream running past her home complete with a cute stone
bridge, swans and…flamingos. She blinked, but the flamingos stayed,
heads nodding lazily. A flock of peacocks wouldn’t surprise her at
this point.

As she turned to go back in the house, she
saw what she thought was a white deer grazing in her meadow. She
gasped as it lifted its head to look at her, revealing a spiral
horn. Losing interest, it went back to grazing.

Dazed, she entered the front door, a little
afraid she’d get lost if she tried to go in back.

The living room was now as polished as any
magazine spread. Simple, yet elegant furniture graced the room, and
a granite fireplace topped with a gold-framed mirror flickered
cheerfully. Gold silk curtains framed the windows and wool tapestry
rug softened the hardwood floor. The polished, green onyx coffee
table held a lotus floating in a crystal bowl. A chess table sat to
the side, its white marble and red onyx stone game pieces tempting
a visitor to relax and chat.

It was gorgeous, but she hurried up the
stairs, worried about her personal stuff; a fear that was
compounded when she found no trace of her mother’s things among the
many guest rooms. Panicked, she opened doors until she found a room
with a private library. She recognized her books and relaxed. A
quick dash to the roomy closet showed her jeans and t-shirts, along
with new clothes in linen, cotton, silk and wool. There was even an
alpaca scarf draped over a nice cashmere coat.

Relieved, she surveyed her room approvingly.
An elegant but simple bed, cotton bedding with velvet throw and
cushy reading chair made the room feel welcome, and another wool
tapestry rug warmed the hardwood floor.

The attached bath felt like a spa with fresh
new linen, a roomy stone-tiled shower, oversize tub and double
sinks. The space was well lit by a skylight, and the abundance of
plants made it feel like part of the outdoors.

She felt a momentary pang as she looked at
the sinks, knowing she had no one to share them. She felt tired as
she thought of Ash, and worried about Eyrnie. The sadness made her
fading adrenaline more apparent, and she realized she was
exhausted. She needed sleep before she’d be any use.

Despite the fact that they’d been of little
use—everyone had seemed to waltz into her home as they pleased
lately —she checked the wards. She was pleasantly surprised to find
them much strengthened. Greatly daring, she took a fast shower and
slid into pajama pants and a tank top. At least if there was a
commotion in the middle of the night, she’d be dressed for
action.

She didn’t think Jason would be back, though.
He’d clearly been after Ash, though she wasn’t sure why. Maybe he
had a thing for trolls.

As a precaution, she slept in her armor with
her knife under the pillow. If nothing else, the wards should warn
her if anyone stepped onto her property.

Unfortunately, she didn’t think to ward her
dreams.

She could tell it was going to be bad even
before she’d drifted off, but didn’t try to wake. The dream had the
flavor of Eyrnie, and she wanted to talk to him.

She should have stayed awake.

As the darkness swirled around her, she was
slammed into a rock. Eyrnie was there, his eyes blood red, teeth
bared. “You killed him! You bitch.” He slammed her again when she
struggled, blocking her knee to the groin with his thigh. “Oh, no.
You
will
pay.”

“For what?” she gasped, grabbing his wrists.
She’d never, ever been afraid of Eyrnie, but this wild man wasn’t
someone she knew. “Tell me what’s going on.”

He backed off as if he couldn’t trust himself
another moment. With a manic smile, he said, “Your mother is free
from her tree.” As she paled, he growled, “She said you told her
she’d have to go through your friends before she could get to
you.”

Her mouth dropped open. “I never—”

“Did you list your protectors? When you
locked her in that tree, did you not name my father as one of the
people who cared about you?”

She blanched. Her mother had said that no one
would protect Billy from her vengeance. To prove her wrong, Billy
had named those she thought would care if her mother tried to hurt
her. Eyrnie’s dad had been at the top of the list.

Her eyes welled as the truth hit her. She
had
killed him.

His mouth lifted in a snarl. “She arranged an
ambush for him. My father is dead because of her.”
Because of
you.
He didn’t say it, but she knew what he believed.

Pixies were vengeful. She knew that, but
somehow she’d never thought… “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Eyrnie,
I’m so sorry.”

His eyes narrowed as he stepped back. “Don’t
call me. Don’t try to see me. You’d better hope your troll is there
to save you, Bianita—because I won’t.” He faded out.

She woke crying. It was morning, perversely
bright and cheerful. He’d timed his dream to be fresh on her mind
when she woke.

She lay there for a while and then drew in a
shuddering breath. If her mother were back, then she had things to
see to. Lying in bed wasn’t going to help her friends.

 

Had he still been talking to her, Eyrnie
would have been surprised to see where Billy went first. Church
wasn’t something they talked about, and was certainly an odd place
for a fae. The church didn’t have a great history with the
otherworldly, and the cold iron of Christian invaders had done much
to destroy fae kind.

However, Billy had always felt that the
Church and Christianity was not always the same thing. She had her
own take on God’s love.

It was a surprise to see Jason waiting for
her outside the church, though. He leaned against his car and
watched her curiously as she descended the stairs. He had a large
gash on his right temple and his bottom lip was puffy. “Sneaking
into church, are we? What would your Grandma say?”

She sent him a dirty look, watching for
sudden moves. “What are you doing here?”

He shook his head. “What is this, a fae
child’s rebellion? Human children smoke or play with Ouija boards,
you dabble in forbidden religion?”

She worked to smooth her expression. “I like
the music. Where else can you hear a live band?”

“Hm.” He looked at her shrewdly. “The
followers of the Christian God are known for their great success in
exterminating fae. A girl could learn some handy things from
them.”

Impatient with his banter, she asked, “Were
is Ash?”

“The troll got away. Let me buy you coffee,
and I’ll tell you about it.”

“Why would I do that?” While relieved, she
didn’t trust this guy farther than she could throw him.

“You might learn something,” he said mildly,
and got into his car. “Meet me at the coffee shop across the way
and we’ll talk.”

It was an opportunity too good to pass up. By
the time they were settled at a table with their orders, she
already had a list of questions. “Why do you want to kill him?”

He shrugged. “I’m a bounty hunter. The Winter
Queen set a price on him, and I’m here to collect.”

“Noble of you.”

“A man has to make a living. I wasn’t after
you, and her price for you is plenty high.”

Her eyes narrowed.

He smiled. “I like you. You’ve got terrible
taste in men, but you’re cute.” He sobered. “You know he’s a
man-eater, of course. You saw that last night.”

She fiddled with her sandwich. She tried not
to think about last night. “Why does it matter to you?”

“Like I said, I like you. Seems like you
could have a bright future.”

He glanced around. “And I know trolls. My
family makes a business out of exterminating them. I know how they
work, how pretty they look while they’re about seduction. I also
know how often their lady loves die.”

Her jaw firmed. “Ash has control.”

Jason shook his head. “You can’t reform a
monster.”

“You’ve seen him kill a woman, then?”

“My aunt got tangled with a troll once;
that’s how my family became troll hunters. She thought her troll
had control, too.” He let that sink in. “Consider telling me where
he might be, won’t you? I’d like to save you some grief.”

She shook her head. “I won’t help you hunt
him.”

“Then I’m just going to have to follow you
around until he shows,” he said stubbornly.

Great. That’s all she needed. “I wouldn’t.
There’s a banshee after me now, and she’s not concerned with
murdering innocent bystanders.”

His smirked. “I’m not so innocent.”

“Maybe I don’t want you around,” she ground
out, last night’s incident fresh in her mind; and not just the
bombing of her house, either. The jerk had seen her in a very
compromising position.

“Better your enemy where you can see them,”
Jason said seriously, and gave her a lopsided grin. “You don’t want
me lurking in the hedge, do you?”

She’d kill him herself. The world would be a
better place.

She didn’t though. It was easier to let him
follow her home to see if the new wards kept him out. To her
delight, the hedge of thorns obligingly closed behind her,
preventing his car from following. Grinning, she parked her bike
and ran in the house to grab some stuff.

She had a troll to hunt.

 

 

16. Out For a Troll

BOOK: Under the Bridge
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