Hunted (Book One of the Forever Faire Series): A Fae Fantasy Romance Novel (10 page)

Colm didn’t wait for an answer as he took Wallace to the nearest vehicle, a van. Gavan and several others joined them. He checked over his shoulder to see Kayla retreating into the lodge.

“Ryan’s been hurt,” he told the men. “The Blackstone clan attacked us on the road. They wanted the woman, so he made me bring her back first.”

“Then drive,” the smith said, and piled into the van with the others.

Colm sped back to the scene of the battle. But at first he saw no sign of Ryan. Wallace pointed to a dark blue heap, and he stopped the van to climb out and hurry over with the men to their injured leader.

Ryan had dropped the glamour he had used to convince Kayla he was unharmed, and opened his eyes as Wallace touched the broad, ugly gash in his neck.

“You took your time,” he said weakly. He coughed, and blood welled from the side of his mouth.

“Is this how you mean to forfeit the next bout?” Gavan asked as he tore off some of his tunic and pressed it over the wound. “Not a very clever ruse, my liege.”

Wallace picked up the dagger that Dirk had planted in Ryan’s neck. He immediately shoved the blade in the soil. He looked at Colm.

“The blade was enchanted, brother. A Fae-slayer. The wound will keep growing wider and deeper, until it decapitates him.”

Colm cursed the cowardly Dark Fae as he and the men carried Ryan back to the van.

“Wrap that cloth around his throat,” he told Gavan. To Wallace, who’d started the van, he said, “Drop me at the lodge, and then take him down below. I’ve a cure for this.”

The smith’s expression turned grim. “Then you’d better bring it soon.”

Though the trip back was quick, Ryan lost consciousness. Even before the van had stopped in front of the lodge, the door was open and Colm jumped out.

“Get him below,” he said over his shoulder as he ran for the lodge.

Kayla must have heard him coming. She had her door open before he could knock. She stepped out into the hall to look both ways.

“Where is he?”

“We’ve taken him downstairs,” Colm said. “Come with me.”

She peppered him with more questions as he led her down into the basement, where the oil lamps had already been lit. As soon as she stepped off the stairs she saw the crates that had been moved to reveal the giant hole in the back wall.

“What is this?”

“I hope you’ll forgive me,” he said.

“None of this was your fault,” she said. “I’m the one who screwed up with my lousy defensive driving.” Kayla peered into the tunnel. “I don’t see Ryan.”

“You will,” Colm said, and clouted the back of her head with his fist. He caught her as she fell and carried her limp body into the entrance.

K
ayla felt
heat and light and pain, and opened her eyes to slits. The dazzling things around her slowly sharpened from big blurry dots to prismatic crystals, thousands of them. They covered the ceiling over her head and wrapped around her sides and feet—which were bare.

“This is bad,” she murmured.

Her voice spread out in soft whispers that agreed with her.

She raised her pounding head as much as she dared, and saw she had been stripped naked.

“What the…”

She lifted her oddly-heavy hand, and the links attached to the wide cuff around her wrist clinked. The other hand had been shackled, too, and the chains disappeared over the end of the soft mattress beneath her back. She turned her head the other way and saw Ryan, his big body white and bare, and his face shrouded by a long swath of scarlet-stained white-gold. For a moment her heart stopped. Then his diaphragm moved up and down. She exhaled, but again she went still. Although she didn’t hear anything, she was almost positive someone else was close.

“Hello?” she said.

Kayla waited for the echoes to die away before she called out again in a louder voice.

“Hello? Please, is someone there? We need help. This man—Ryan Sheridan—is hurt.”

No one responded, and now the silence seemed to press against her ears.

Slowly she propped herself on her elbow, making the chains rattle, and winced as a spot at the base of her skull throbbed sharply. Her fingers shook a little as she took the cloth from Ryan’s face. He was so pale!

“Do not die on me,” she told him.

Around his neck was a darkly-stained, makeshift bandage. Gingerly, she lifted it to see the gash in his neck that she had watched disappear. It now looked twice as long, gaped horribly, and steadily seeped blood. Something compelled her to cover it with her hand, and she felt his blood warm her fingers. A soft blue glow shimmered under her palm, making her gasp. When she snatched her hand away the bleeding had stopped.

Ryan stirred, and opened his eyes. “Kayla,” he whispered, his voice thready. His brows drew together as he regarded her. “How?”

“Pretty sure it was Colm, whose ass I’m going to kick all over the faire once I get out of here.” She held up her hand enough for him to see the shackles and chain. “I’m naked and chained in a cave. You’re in a lot worse shape.” She gazed down at his face. “How do we get out of this without making you go black-eyed?”

“He wants you to heal me.” Ryan closed his eyes. “Better if you don’t.”

“Better?” she said, ignoring the echo. “Better for who? The Blackstones?” She stopped herself. “How exactly do I heal you?”

“Sex.” His mouth hitched. “When a mortal makes love to an injured Fae, it heals our wounds.”

He was Fae? As in the fairy fantasy folk type Fae? A couple hundred things about him suddenly wanted to make sense, but she didn’t have time to deal with that now.

“That’s why you stopped bleeding when I touched your neck?” She moved over him. “Maybe I should just do more of that. Ryan? Ryan?” She patted his cheek until he opened his eyes a little. “We’re alone and I’m in chains. Please, do not faint on me now.”

“If you wish me to live, make love to me,” he whispered. “If not, then move away. It won’t be long.”

Make love to him. She’d wanted that more than anything only last night. But like this? She gazed down at the chains. For a healing? How could that work? But as Ryan’s eyes closed, Kayla knew time was running out. Quickly.

She started wiping the blood from his mouth, and then swore as she bent over to kiss him anyway. He murmured something in that strange language of his before their lips met. He stirred slightly as her mouth gently kneaded his. But when there was no further reaction, she straddled him, bracing one hand on his shoulder. With the other she reached down for his shaft. She flinched when she felt it instantly swell and go rigid.

“That helps,” she said, hoping he heard.

As scared as she was, she expected to be dry, but the moment she tucked him between her legs she felt herself go wet. Then it was just a matter of fitting him to the right spot and bearing down. She should have felt awkward and awful, but the moment his thick cockhead lodged inside her, shivery delight shimmered through her limbs and drew a low moan from her lips.

This time they didn’t float over the bed, explode with light or any other repeat of their first surreal coupling. Instead, Kayla worked herself slowly up and down, taking him in and rising up to let him almost slide free. As she did she watched the wound in his neck, which began to shrink and close again. Something told her to put her hand over it, and the blue glow reappeared.

Ryan opened his eyes, which shone with the same gentle light. “Kayla.”

“I’m healing you,” she said, panting the words a bit as her own need welled up inside her. “Can you feel that? It’s so strange.” It took her another moment to figure out what it was. “Our hearts are beating together.”

It was as though the blood in her veins spoke to his. His arms moved, and he clasped her hips with his hands.

“You’re pouring your life into me. Your heart to mine.”

She rode him a little faster, a little harder.

The edges of the neck wound sealed together, and the scar they made began to flatten.

“Oh, that feels good,” he said, his voice stronger. “You feel good on me, Kayla love. Why did you choose to save me?”

“You know why.” She rolled her hips to take him deeper. “You knew it the night I walked up to your campfire. When we looked at each other, and all the nonsense dropped and I could see you. Could you see me?”

He nodded slowly, and then pulled her down to him. He took the chains that bound her and pulled them until they snapped. His hips surged under hers as he clasped her bottom and began driving into her, his big body tensing along with hers.

She kissed his chin and let him take over, her body shaking with the force of his thrusts. Nothing felt as good as his shaft stroking her, and his big hands squeezing her. Her hips moved in time with his, meeting each penetration. She took him deeply, his heated flesh parting her, then pushing into her core. A groan escaped her lips as a sweet familiar tension unwound in her belly. In moments, the ecstasy blossomed, and Kayla came with a low, keening cry that seemed to echo forever.

Ryan wrapped his arms around her as he followed her, his shaft jerking with every thick jet he pumped into her. When she collapsed on his chest he rubbed his cheek against the top of her head, and murmured to her until she almost fell asleep. But as he drew out of her, and gently rolled her to his side, she reluctantly opened her eyes. There wasn’t a mark left on his neck.

“Sorry, Kayla love,” he said, smiling. “I would tarry here forever, and never let you go. But we cannot stay.”

Slowly she sat up, rubbing the tender place on the back of her head. Ryan frowned as he sat up too.

“Colm will answer for what he did to you,” he said.

“He’ll answer,” she agreed. “But to me. You get a little over-excited, and arms start tearing off bodies.”

Ryan rose from the padded platform and retrieved a neatly-folded pile of clothes, which turned out to be hers. She took them and began to get dressed. He found his own, blood-stained clothes and started pulling them on.

“But he knew bringing me down here would save your life,” she said. “Right?”

Something flickered across Ryan’s face. “Yes, he did.”

Once they’d dressed, he stood in front of her and took her hands.

“The Blackstones are Dark Fae,” he said. “They do not care about mortals, or this world, or anything but themselves. In every sense they are our enemy. They will not leave until they have what they want.”

Her chest tightened. “Me and my sister.”

He grimaced but nodded. “Come,” he said, tucking her in by his side.

Ryan guided her out of the cave and through a long, dark tunnel to a narrow staircase made entirely of carved crystal. Kayla shivered a little when they climbed it and emerged into the lodge’s basement.

Wallace stood waiting with a lantern. “My liege.” He bowed to Ryan before turning to Kayla. “My lady.”

“Next time, just ask me to do the sexual healing, okay?” Kayla said. “I would have said yes.”

The smith nodded. “Miss Rowe, I waited so that I might tell you. We went to, ah, warn your sister about the Blackstones, but she was gone. We cannot find her now.”

“What?”

Kayla pushed past him and ran up the stairs. Blood pounding in her ears, she dashed to their room. It was empty but Tara’s clothes were still in the closet. Kayla spun and sprinted back into the hallway. Tara might be at the costume tent. But no sooner had she emerged from the room than Ryan intercepted her.

“She is likely out walking the grounds. She would not leave without telling someone.”

Kayla glared up at him. “Of course she would leave. She’s probably out looking for me, or hiding from your men, who like to knock women unconscious and use them like big Band-Aids.” She saw Colm walking toward them, and felt her stomach knot. “What did you do with Tara?”

“Naught—nothing.” He turned to Ryan, his gaze shifting to his neck. “It seems you were right, my liege.”

Kayla’s hands became fists, and her heart rate doubled. She pushed herself between the giant men.

“Right about what?” she demanded.

“Come with me, and I will explain.” Ryan held out his hand.

“I’m not going anywhere. Right about what?” When he didn’t reply, she turned on Colm. “Then you tell me, right now.”

“Tara is the one that the Blackstones want, Miss Rowe. Not you. She is the evil one.”

Before Kayla even knew what she was doing, she slapped him as hard as she could. He didn’t so much as flinch.

“Only a true mortal could have healed Ryan,” he continued. “That you did proves you are not the changeling.”

“You mean…” She looked from him to Ryan and back again. “You risked his life to find out?” Then she recalled how she’d sensed another presence in the cave. “You were watching, weren’t you? To see if I’d heal him.” She hugged herself. “You cold-blooded bastard.”

Colm met her gaze. “It had to be done.”

She had to get away from them—and find Tara. But this time she didn’t run. Instead, she simply walked away. Without a word she turned her back on them. With tears filling her eyes she made her way down the hallway, and then outside. Inside the empty costume tent she stopped. She wiped furiously at her eyes, trying to think. Where would Tara run this time? Where could she possibly go? In the cold and the–

The tent flaps opened and Ryan came in.

“Kayla love,” he said, in the same kind tone he used with kids. “Tara is not your sister. She is a changeling. She is a Fae made to seem as though she were human. Colm told me what Dirk Blackstone said before he ran. We know she is dangerous, and evil. You must stay away from her now.”

He wore his mortal guise, and still he was the most stunning man she’d ever met. She could still taste his kisses on her lips, and feel the aching softness he’d filled between her thighs. She was fairly sure she’d never get the delicious smell of him out of her head. From the moment they’d met, she’d been so sure that he was the love of her life.

But she’d been wrong.

The love of her life wouldn’t tell her to abandon her sister.

“You don’t know anything about Tara or me,” she said in a quaking voice. “But I know who I have to stay away from, Ryan.” Kayla took in a shaky breath. “You. I quit.”