“We need to put some distance between us and the killing ground.” That was enough of a plan for me. Anything that comes through from faery will find an unarmed meal waiting. We are bait. Does our captor want the human world overrun with fae creatures?
And our existence revealed by scientists?
Faery will be exploited by the humans the way they do with all new territories. They will not recognize us as people, or rightful owners. They will see the giant trees, the cattle and our long lives and want it for themselves.
She stumbles and I catch her, so she doesn’t fall, my hands are on her hips and there’s only a whisper between our bodies. I should let her go, but when I touch her, static runs through me and I like it. No one has ever made my blood sing and the air in my lungs crackle like a storm the way she has.
Flick lifts her gaze. “You’re going to want to remove your hands.”
Her words are soft, with no sharp edges and her lips part. She could shove or punch or yell, and I’d let her go in an instant. But there’s a pull between us that I can’t resist.
“And if I don’t?” I step closer and give her a heartbeat to pull away.
She doesn’t so I close the gap and kiss her. She puts her hands on my chest as if to push, but her fingers curl into my shirt and her mouth opens. I’ve stepped into the storm and never want to be safe again. Her tongue lashes mine and she groans.
Then like a summer squall she shoves me back, and it’s over.
She wipes her mouth on the back of her hand. “Don’t do that again.”
I lift an eyebrow. Like she wasn’t an active participant. “Why because you liked it?”
“Yeah.” But something has changed in the way she looks at me.
Am I more of a monster or less?
Then she bends and picks up what I think is a stick she tripped on, but it’s a bone. She tests the weight in her hand. “How many people do you think he’s killed?”
“I don’t know.”
“We have to stop him.”
“I think he’s taken a one-way ticket to faery. And he wants the creatures to clean up his mess.”
“Well, I’m not becoming dinner.” The fight is back in her eyes and the tilt of her chin.
Every rider knows when they’ve found the one to take home. I think she might be mine because for the first time, going home doesn’t seem so bad. Not that it matters, as I have no way home.
6
Felicity
My mouth still tastes of him. Like raspberries and dark chocolate but as heady as vodka shots—the kind that are fun at the time but promise a morning of regrets. I’m already have the regrets and the high hasn’t even worn off.
I can’t even walk away from him as we’re tied together. No doubt to stop us fleeing or fighting effectively. The bone in my hand is smooth and solid, but if one of those scaly antlered things comes at me, it will probably bite it in half.
I don’t want to know what creature used the bone in life. Not anything from faery. Human? A big dog? I don’t know what the hell the guy was doing out here.
How many fae people did he kill that have left no evidence?
No bones and no corpse?
Will I vanish just the same?
I don’t feel very fae, but what is that supposed to feel like? Am I supposed to feel magical or something? I’ve never had anything good land in my lap. If anything, I’ve been cursed with what my grandmother had called the sight. She’d believed in the fae and hadn’t liked them much. Had hated my father on all accounts. I don’t remember him. He left when I was barely out of diapers. If he was a rider, he’d gone off to fight monsters. Had he been killed or found a woman he wanted more than my mother?
I glance at Cillian; he’s scanning the horizon and our surroundings.
I use the bone to hook the end of the rope that binds us. With it off the ground, it’s easier to walk without it catching on every rock and weed. He tosses me a grin, and my lips twitch. I almost return it before I remember he’s the reason I’m in this mess.
