Resistance (29 page)

The night passes in a barrage of people and unending
questions. Thanks to the tea Ruth made me, my voice has come back,
though it’s still much huskier than usual. I don’t remember ever
speaking so much before in my entire life. And everyone asks the
same questions: How did a faery get in? Is this related to the
Winter princess being here somehow? And then someone voices the
concern that Flint was involved with the other faery gaining
entrance. I don’t react well to that statement, I’m afraid. I had
been letting Seamus do as much of the talking as possible, but when
I hear a voice in the crowd yell out the possibility that Flint
betrayed us, I stand up without thinking.

“I can’t shout, obviously, but I want you all to
listen very closely because what I am about to say is important.” I
pause, my throat already aching. “Flint did not help the other
faery get in. He saved Eirnin and I, and was wounded for his
trouble. I don’t want to hear anyone else dare to suggest that he
was involved with this. He has proven himself to be our ally beyond
any shadow of a doubt, and I will not tolerate anyone berating his
integrity.” I sit back down with my strength spent and find my
brother beaming at me with pride.

It is well into the wee morning hours when the last
ten or so people are being ushered out the back door by Seamus. We
sent Ruth home hours ago with the younger kids, and Aodhan is back
upstairs with Lumi. After the last person has said goodnight,
Seamus follows them out with a nod to us. Finally it is just my
brother and I sitting at our kitchen table. I don’t think I’ve ever
seen Eir look so exhausted; his normally happy countenance missing.
Neither of us has slept in well over twenty-four hours at this
point, and I can’t imagine I’m looking much better than he does.
Taking in the disaster area of our normally tidy kitchen, I feel my
very bones register their disapproval at the thought of tackling
this mess tonight. The stacks of coffee cups, pie plates and
silverware will keep until morning, I assure my aching body.

I just barely resist the urge to lay my head down on
the table and go to sleep, but then my brother’s deep voice
startles me from my near catatonic state when he suddenly urges me,
“You need to go check on Flint, Fi. He’s not doing well.” He takes
a moment to look around at the mess and says, “Damn. They came,
they bitched and they destroyed…”

Trying to act like I didn’t just almost jump out of
my skin, I raise my brow at him and grin. “I can’t believe I’m
about to say this, but I have no idea where he even is, Eir. And
let’s not talk about the mess right now. I can’t take it.”

“He’s been up in the library since he left Lulu. Go —
we’ll take care of the mess in the morning,” he says; standing up
and pulling me out of my chair. He hugs me to him before giving me
a gentle push towards the hall. “No more sneaking out at night, I
promise,” he tells me, easing my mind. I nod at him and try to
smile, not trusting my voice. I can’t think about how I almost lost
him, too.

I ache everywhere and I’m seriously considering
skipping my morning run as I climb the two flights of stairs to the
library. By the time I reach the doors, I’m debating staying up
here tonight rather than facing the climb back down to my bedroom.
I can’t ever recall being this sore before in my life. Just
entering the library makes my step a little lighter though, and I
breathe in the smell of thousands upon thousands of books.

I find Flint staring off into space, sitting on the
sofa in the corner of the room looking like the slightest
provocation might shatter him into a million pieces. “Hey,” I say
gently. “Here you are. Eir and I were worried about you.”

His shoulders tense for a second and he looks up at
me. “Hey…um,” he glances away, grimaces and seems to try and
collect his thoughts. “I’m, uh, alive, so I guess I’m fine.”

Looking at him I feel worry take root in my chest.
Eir was right — he is not okay. I take a step closer and gesture
towards the sofa. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” I ask him.

“Not at all.” He straightens a bit in his seat.

Settling in, I tuck my feet under my body and turn
towards him. “I don’t think I got the chance to thank you before.
You saved Eir...hell, you saved me.” I find myself unable to
continue, so I pick up his injured hand and press my lips to his
palm. I hate that my dagger did this to him. I clear my throat.
“Thank you for saving us, Flint.”

Flint’s eyes lock on our hands for a minute, looking
shocked, but then soften when they swing up to meet mine. “You’re
welcome. But you don’t have to thank me.”

I blush, realizing I’m still hanging onto his hand. I
place it back in his lap gingerly and grin at him. “You might not
think I have to thank you, but I really do. Now, do you want to
talk about it? Don’t bother telling me you’re okay either, because
I know you’re not. I’ve been told I can be a decent listener when I
try.”

“I...” His jaw is tight. “It’s complicated.”

“Flint. Talk. To. Me. Please? I can handle
complicated pretty well, if you hadn’t noticed,” I say slowly;
resting my hand on his shoulder and squeezing. I feel his muscles
relax the tiniest bit under my hand.

“I’ve never killed anyone before,” he blurts and then
swallows; turning his face in my direction but not looking any
higher than my knees. “And, um… as you probably guessed, I knew
him.”

I shudder just remembering the horror of the night
before; seeing my brother at the mercy of a sadistic faery is
something I’m sure will haunt me for the rest of my life. “I’ve
never killed anyone before, either. I can’t imagine what you must
be feeling right now.”

“He wasn’t listening. As far as I’m concerned, I had
no choice. He would’ve killed both of you.”

I nod my head in agreement. “He certainly seemed to
be bent on killing us.” I pause, not sure if I should press, and
then ask, “How did you know him?”

He’s quiet for a minute, then he looks at me and
says, “I met him when I left my parents’ place. He helped me get
out of the country and just...stuck around a while.” He shrugs. “I
haven’t seen him in over...fifty years, give or take.”

I wait for him to look me in the eye before I
continue. “But he was your friend once.
I’m sorry
seems
sorely inadequate.”

“He always was a bullheaded little shit.” He frowns.
“Fi... The man who went after you last night was not the same kid I
was friends with. Don’t feel guilty about it, all right?”

I try to smile at him, although I’m sure it isn’t a
happy sight. “I’ll make you a deal, Flint. I won’t feel guilty if
you won’t.”

“That hardly seems like a fair deal.” He grins a
little and something flutters in my chest. “In fact, I think that’s
bribery.”

I grin back. “You’re getting the idea now. Seriously
though, don’t put the responsibility for his behavior on yourself.
He brought this on himself when he came here with the intent to
take my brother’s life.”

"I know." He sighs. "It's just...it sucks, knowing I
ended someone's life." He swallows again. "I don't recommend
it."

“Did you feel like you had a choice?” I ask, as
ridiculous as I know it sounds.

"Of course I had a choice." He looks over at me like
it's the stupidest thing anyone’s ever asked him. "I chose you. And
faced with the same choice, I wouldn't do anything
differently."

I hold his gaze and try to ignore the blush I feel
covering my face. “I think you need to keep in mind that you were
in an impossible situation and did what you thought was best.
That's all anyone can do. You have to find a way to forgive
yourself.”

His mouth is working but nothing is coming out and I
cringe; feeling like I have most definitely made things worse for
him. I put my hand up between us, contrite and awkward. “I swear
I'm not trying to make you feel worse. Just know that I'm sorry you
had to do it and I'm grateful you saved us. I can leave you in
peace if you like.”

He hesitates again, seemingly dumbfounded by my
idiocy, and then shifts to angle his body towards me. He licks his
lips. “I’m going to say something, and I need you to try and hear
me, okay?” He waits for my nod. “Last night, I didn’t save you
because I felt I ‘had’ to. It wasn’t because it was best for
Eirnin, or for your group, or because Quincy had it coming. I
wasn’t thinking that far ahead.”

Confusion settles over me when he meets my eyes,
sincerity radiating from him. I’ve rarely seen him like this. “I’m
confused,” I admit. “What are you trying to say, Flint?”

He opens his mouth and closes it again without
speaking. I seem to have struck him dumb. If I wasn’t so confused
by the turn this conversation has taken, I’d mark it as a victory.
His amber eyes are hooked on mine and suddenly he’s a lot closer.
His hand cups my cheek and then slides behind my head to bring me
closer, and something clicks in my mind and I open my mouth to say,
“Oh,” but his mouth is on mine and his kiss swallows it. I take a
moment to think, So this is what it’s like to be
kissed
before coherent thought escapes me.

Flint’s mouth is warm on mine, tasting of cinnamon,
and his hand is firm on the back of my neck as he kisses me with an
intensity that startles me at first. I’m floundering in the passion
he’s building between us when I realize my mouth is open under his,
my hands are in his hair and I am kissing him back with everything
I am. He lets loose a quiet sort of growl and hooks his arm around
my waist; pulling me onto his lap so I’m straddling him without
ever breaking our kiss, his other hand still gripping my neck,
holding me closer to him.

My lungs feel as though they might burst at any
moment; my pulse pounding and desire thrumming in my blood when his
mouth leaves mine to explore my jaw. Bereft of conscious thought, I
whimper and go for his mouth again, eliciting a chuckle from him.
He evades my attempt and instead finds the spot where my neck and
shoulder meet with his mouth and I gasp with pleasure.

“Do you understand now, love?” he breathes, and I
shiver in response.

He’s leisurely kissing his way up my neck towards my
ear when I feel him stiffen beneath me but he doesn’t stop. Upon
reaching my ear, he whispers in it, “Your brother is on his way up
here,” and I break out in goosebumps from his hot breath in my ear.
Then I register what he said and panic surges through me; instantly
cooling my desire.

A strangled sort of squeak escapes my lips as I pull
back from Flint and try to leave his lap. His arms are still around
me though, holding me fast. His eyes seem aflame with passion as he
studies me in my panic. “I have to go,” I manage, and he drops his
arms from around me with a small sigh. However I am far from
stable, and without his support, I find myself falling backwards
off his lap and the sofa; landing in a heap on the floor. My
mortification complete, I ignore Flint’s query about my well-being
and flee the scene; almost plowing into my brother on the stairs in
my haste to put distance between myself and the Autumn Fae I left
looking immensely kissable in the library.

Eirnin reaches out to steady me when I move to go
around him on the stairs. “Whoa! Where are you running away to?”
There is a chuckle in his voice and my temper rises in
response.

“Shut up Eirnin! I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in
the morning,” I say; slapping away his hands and hurrying away
towards the sanctuary the first floor and my bedroom provide. I
hear my brother’s laughter follow as I literally run from him.

I close my bedroom door a little harder than is
necessary and lean back against it, trying to catch my breath. My
hands are shaking and there are a thousand thoughts chasing each
other around my muddled brain. To say I don’t have the best track
record when it comes to anything of a romantic nature would be an
understatement, considering my first and last boyfriend had to be
executed for his treasonous behaviors. Hugh’s actions have scarred
me in ways I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to recover from.
Flint isn’t Hugh, and I know it isn’t fair to compare them. But it
doesn’t mean I’m not scared of making another huge, life-altering
mistake.

Maybe it didn’t mean anything to Flint, though. He is
a faery, after all, and my mother always told me they use humans
and then toss them away. He doesn’t care for me that way. We are
just friends who shared a terrifying experience. That’s it —
leftover adrenaline. It was just a kiss, yes; a very intense kiss,
but still — just a kiss, really. Or maybe that wasn’t quite as
intense as I believed it to be? I don’t have any experience with
kissing to draw from, so I don’t know for sure. Can friends kiss
each other like that and still be just friends?

Then I hear his voice in my head saying, "Of course I
had a choice. I chose you. And faced with the same choice I
wouldn't do anything differently," and I know I’m lying to
myself.