Authors: Anne Manning
Tags: #fiction, #erotica, #paranormal romance, #new concepts publishing
"Some more magic?"
"Mm-hmm. Close your eyes and sit very
still."
She could feel his hands near her,
moving around her, but not touching her. Occasionally his warmth
would abruptly leave but return immediately. As she sat there, she
felt as though she were floating. Her arms and legs had no weight.
She had no weight.
"What are you doing?"
"Shhh, I'm lifting your
headache."
"What?"
"Shhh."
She obeyed and relaxed. Though he
didn't touch her, she could feel where his hands were, hovering
above her head. His presence radiated through her, warming her,
relaxing her, even while he created a tension she found strange,
but not at all unpleasant.
They were quiet for many
minutes.
"It's gone," she spoke the words as the
realization dawned.
"Good." He kissed the top of her head.
She heard him breathe deeply. "You do smell so good."
Annabelle leaned back against him,
willing him to touch her. Her body yearned for his touch, his kiss.
Gaelen stroked her arms, up her neck. The warmth of his fingers
shot through her, a flame seeking out all the cold, empty places in
her soul.
The law is only for revealing
ourselves.
"Gaelen, make love to me."
Had she really spoken those
words?
His hands stilled. He pulled away,
leaving cold where there had been warmth.
"No, dearling. Not tonight."
She whirled on him. "I wish you'd make
up your mind. You act like you want me, then when I offer myself
like a common trollop you back off like you've taken a vow of
chastity. What's wrong with me? Why you don't like me?"
He grimaced. "There's nothing wrong
with you. I like you rather too much."
"Then kiss me again." Was she really
being so bold? "I've been trying and trying to get you
to."
"Oh, darlin' don't tempt me so. I
can't."
"Why?"
"The law."
"Phooey on the law. You heard what Dr.
Duncan just said."
"I need to verify that for myself." He
grinned. "Besides, what would I tell your mother?"
"My mother?" She laughed. "I think
she'd understand better than you think." Her laughter turned somber
when she thought of how cruelly she'd judged her mother.
He stroked her cheek. "What's
wrong?"
"I guess I'm ashamed. All these years I
assumed Mom had always been like she is now. Before we left, she
told me..."
"What?"
"You don't know my mother at all, do
you?"
"Not really. I met her a few times at
university functions, though Jumbo usually came alone. I've heard,
from other faculty," he said, seeming embarrassed to admit he'd
gossiped about her family, "Jumbo kept his wife under
wraps."
"He did," Annabelle admitted. "Mom
isn't...strong. Daddy always said she was fey. I never gave it much
thought, except for wishing my mother was like everybody else's.
Anyway, when I told her I was coming to Ireland with you, she
guessed it all. Practically tossed me out the front door to get me
on my way."
Gaelen frowned. "What did she tell
you?"
Chapter Twenty Two
Gaelen listened as Annabelle recounted
her mother's story. Many things started to become clearer. He'd
always thought Susan Tinker seemed a bit fey, just as Jumbo had
described her, but in a bad way--distracted, unfocused. Now he
realized she showed the signs of one who'd seen his home world,
been enchanted by it, and was never again able to function in the
real one again.
Another fairy mixing with a human
woman. Annabelle's own mother.
"Did this winged fellow have a
name?"
Annabelle pursed her lips. Galen looked
away before he was hopelessly sidetracked by how kissable they
were.
"It was a strange first name. The last
name was O'Shea."
"O'Shea?" Couldn't be. No one was more
adamant about fairies keeping to their own kind than... Gaelen
hesitated, but he had to know. "Was his first name,
Eochy?"
"That's it. Eochy O'Shea."
"Did she describe this Eochy O'Shea?"
He hoped there was another fairy named Eochy O'Shea.
"Mom said he was like a
rooster."
"That's Eochy, all right." Gaelen's
sympathy for Susan Tinker eroded in the face of the anger building
against Eochy.
"Do you know him?" Annabelle
asked.
"Yes, I do." He got off the bed and
without even thinking squooshed and headed for an infinitesimal
space in the window frame.
Wham!
He bounced back to the opposite wall,
splatting against the landscape hanging over the
fireplace.
Forcing his rage to a calmer
temperature so he wouldn't frighten Annabelle, he unsquooshed and
waited a second for the lightheadedness to pass.
He turned to her, carefully phrasing
his request.
"Annabelle, dear, would you be kind
enough to sweep the salt off the sill?"
With a silent nod, her eyes wide, she
jumped off the bed to do as he asked.
"Not on the floor, please. Sweep it
into your hand and toss it into the fireplace."
"Okay." She did as he bid, but took a
wide circle around him.
Gaelen frowned at her apparent
apprehension. Fool! He should have prepared her. Sure he'd told her
about it, but she'd never actually seen him squoosh.
"I'll be back as soon as I can." With
that, not waiting for her reply, he squooshed again and headed for
the space in the window frame.
He took the Great Circle route to New
Jersey, and he didn't stop until he reached the boulder covering
the opening to the cave where the North American Federation held
its meetings. Dashing under this minor impediment, Gaelen flew down
the corridor. Why did he come here? Eochy would be in his big white
house by the Potomac River at this time of day. But still Gaelen
flew on toward the Great Meeting Hall.
There were lights shimmering at the end
of the corridor, signaling someone's presence.
"Come on in, Gaelen. I've been waiting
for you."
Gaelen flew in and hovered for a
moment. Eochy sat in his big chair at the Great Table. Ninety-nine
chairs were empty between them.
Unsquooshing, Gaelen took his time
getting to his own chair at the Great Table, but he didn't sit
down. He set his hands on the back, willing himself to stay
calm.
"Why?" he finally asked.
"Why what?" Eochy asked in return, a
smile playing on his lips.
"You hypocrite," Gaelen
spat.
"Have a care, lad. That's a serious
accusation."
"What's the problem, Eochy? Can't face
what you've done?" Gaelen glanced around. "Let's get the One
Hundred in here. I'll say it again. Hypocrite!"
Eochy jumped to his feet. His huge
chair spun out behind him. "Take that back."
Gaelen held Eochy's gaze. "Never. You
seduced Susan Tinker. Now you have the gall to try to send her
daughter to Tir-Nan-Og for falling in love with Lucas."
"You know perfectly well that's not why
she has to go. Lucas revealed his nature to her."
"And what did you do to Susan
Tinker?"
Eochy looked away. "I ruined her."
Gaelen knew he wasn't referring to anything sexual. "'Tis true. But
Vern took care of her. He understood her."
Gaelen couldn't believe his ears. "I
ought to pluck your wings out you heartless--"
"I'm not heartless, Gaelen." Eochy's
eyes pleaded for understanding. He leaned against the table, his
whole body begging. "That's why I forced the law through the
Elders's Council. So no other woman could be hurt like that
again."
Gaelen hardened his heart. "Well, it
didn't work, did it?"
"No. Because your brother didn't obey
it."
"Here's a flash for you, Eochy. Neither
have I. Now you try, you bantam rooster, to banish me to
Tir-Nan-Og. If I go, you go." Eochy blanched. "Sure, now it means
something to you."
"The law doesn't work retroactively."
Well, Eochy was a lawyer in his spare time, wasn't he?
"What do you think the Council of
Elders will have to say about your situation, Eochy?" The
expression on Eochy's face slackened in realization. Gaelen knew he
had him. "Yes, we fairies have a grand sense of justice. You'll
either fix this mess and take care of that dear woman, or I'll see
you languishing in Tir-Nan-Og for a century or two. You've got
until I get back from Ireland where I've got a mess of my own to
clean up."
Gaelen squooshed and left before he
could get around the Great Table to flatten Eochy.
* * * *
Annabelle waited up for Gaelen's
return. No way she could go to sleep after seeing that. So, that
was squooshing.
It was almost like he'd exploded. And
the expression on his face was so…angry. Where was he going? And
what was he going to do once he got there? The second question
frightened her more than the first.
She'd never seen him like that. He'd
always been so even-tempered, even when dealing with--
Well, no, he'd been about to strangle
Dr. Duncan. That had been a Gaelen she'd never seen before, the
same one who'd flown out of here.
What if he didn't come back? What if he
had exploded? How many times could you squoosh your atoms before
your atoms squooshed back?
She shook that idea right out of her
head. After all, she'd know--though she didn't know exactly how
she'd know--if he'd…if he wasn't coming back.
She settled in for a long wait,
prepared to be patient.
Her eyelids grew heavy. She got up and
sprinkled water from the antique washbasin on the dresser on her
face and walked around the room to stay awake.
On the tenth lap around the tiny
bedroom, her eyes gritty, she sat on the bed. For someone fighting
sleep, that was a mistake. The mattress beckoned her to rest, to
surrender to her fatigue.
"No, I can't sleep until he's back,"
she told herself, even as she gave up the fight against gravity and
fell back on the crisp, clean white sheets. "Just for a minute. Oh,
my eyes are so tired. I'll just close them for little
while."
She woke from a sound sleep, snuggled
into the warm body behind her. Gaelen snored softly in her ear, a
rumbling sound she found comforting.
"Gaelen," she whispered. "Gaelen, wake
up." She turned over so she could face him.
In sleep, his handsome face seemed like
that of a young boy. She looked her fill, soaking in the high brow,
the lock of wheat-gold hair hanging over his closed eyes. The
strong jaw and the generous mouth, his full lips tipped in just a
hint of a smile.
What did a fairy dream
about?
He must have sensed her intense study
of his face. His eyes cracked open. He squinted at her as he came
awake.
"Hello." She brushed the wayward
tendrils of gold off his brow.
"Hello." His smile widened at the touch
of her fingers against his skin.
Annabelle moved toward him and, in some
unspoken understanding, Gaelen wrapped her in his arms, rolled to
his back and pulled her onto his chest.
"Where were you?"
He didn't answer immediately. She
pulled away to look him in the eye.
"I went to New Jersey to take care of
some business."
"New Jersey? How in the world did you
get to New Jersey and back so quickly?"
"I flew. You saw me."
"You can fly that fast?"
"Sure. All that energy pointed in one
direction provides a hell of a boost."
"I guess." She was impressed. "Do you
fly at the speed of light?"
"Don't know. Never been clocked. I can
beat the Concorde by a good ways though."
"I suppose all fairies can fly that
fast."
He seemed offended, and she hid a smile
at his bruised masculine pride. "I suppose."
"So, what kind of business did you have
in New Jersey? Or is it none of mine?" She didn't realize until
she'd said it how much she was really asking.
"How can I tell you it's none of your
business? Everything that affects me affects you."
They gazed into each other's eyes.
Words became useless as they began to speak in a silent language of
infinitely greater economy.
Gaelen raised his hand to her face,
stroking her skin with the backs of his fingers, smoothing away all
worry. Lacing his fingers through her hair, he molded them to her
neck, urged her to him.
She gave herself over to his will. He
was what she'd always wanted, what she'd waited for. She'd known he
was out there somewhere.
Their lips met, matching perfectly, as
though made for each other, created from the same mold. Annabelle
yearned to join him, wherever it was he wanted her to go, whatever
it was he wanted her to do, she knew she would, gladly.