The Goblin King (32 page)

“If you cancel now, you will have to pay. If you reschedule, everyone will understand what with the court case.” WPD’s voice got higher with each word. This was supposed to be her breakout wedding, the one that would put her back among society. It had done that, but for all the wrong reasons.

Eliza wanted to snap, but instead she broke the news as gently and as simply as she could. “Donna. It’s over. We split up. There will be no wedding.”

Silence. Paper shuffled in the background. She could just see WPD reaching for a paper bag to stave off hyperventilating. “Donna?”

“And the cake, and the reception, and the church, and the musicians?”

“Cancel them. I’ll have to pay for the reception given the late notice, so give the dinner to charity.”

“What?” Donna said in a pitch more suited to dogs than humans.

Eliza stretched her fingers and kept her voice calm. “Let St. Vinnie’s take the food.”

“What? You can’t do that.”

“Why not? I have to pay. The food can be cooked and donated.” Steve would hate that. Eliza smiled. Some good could come out of this mess. “And give the cake to a couple who needs it.” Someone should get to enjoy the white-chocolate-black-lace-five-tier monster.

Donna said nothing. But Eliza could hear her lips moving. The horror of the aborted wedding sinking in. She pushed on not waiting for agreement.

“And if you could notify all the guests that would great.”

“Are you sure about this? It seems like such a sudden change. Do you need some time to think? Maybe I should talk to Steven.”

Eliza fisted her hand. If these instructions were coming from Steve, Donna would have jumped through hoops to please. “He’s in jail, awaiting trial, but go for it. He’ll tell you same thing. There will be no wedding.”

Even though she’d never wanted to marry Steve, canceling the wedding wasn’t as much fun as it should have been. It was like stripping away old bandages only to find the wound unhealed and weeping. She didn’t bleed for the loss of Steve but for the loss of what might have been had the curse broken. If the curse had broken, she could be marrying Roan. She wanted the fairy tale—the fairy tale wedding didn’t matter. She sighed. All delusions must end.

Her voice tightened. “Thank you, Donna. None of this was expected, and I realize it has put you in an awkward position.”

Donna became almost human. “Not at all. Just keep me in mind for when you do decide to marry.”

Not a chance in hell.
If she’d been more active in the planning, then maybe it wouldn’t have gotten so out of hand. It wasn’t Donna’s fault none of this was what she wanted.

“Sure, you’ve been so helpful,” she said, hoping she sounded honest.

“I’ll be in touch, Ms. Coulter.”

And it was done.

No more wedding.

With a grunt she peeled herself off the sofa. She couldn’t waste any more of the evening. What if she got to the Summerland and found it empty?

Eliza set the alarm and ran upstairs. She stopped at the door to the master bedroom. Instead of rewiring the security system, she should cut out the last piece of Steve. Gut the room and start again. Redecorate, paint, and carpet and tile over every memory he’d ever created. She nodded to herself. She would need the distraction. Tomorrow she would begin building a new life, starting by reclaiming the bedroom.

She brushed her teeth and showered in record speed, then slipped into the white sundress. A million tiny butterflies fought to escape her chest. She swallowed to keep them in. She had to find out if he was waiting.

If the Goblin King was still in residence.

Sleep came easily. Eliza barely lay down and closed her eyes when she opened them to the eternal summer dreamland. She’d expected a battle from her body for going to bed too early and for wearing the wrong thing. She ran her hands over her stomach and the thin, white fabric of the sundress. The breeze teased, lifting the edges of the dress. The grass tickled her legs like a sweeping green ocean in which she could easily drown.

“Roan.”

On the horizon storm clouds formed, bubbling out of nothing. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Once he arrived the colors would fade. Once he was gone there would be no color worth seeing.

Beads chimed in the breeze. Music she would never hear again. She turned to face him. Roan swept her up into his arms.

“I wasn’t sure…” She kissed him. He felt real, cool against her skin, his muscles hard beneath his clothing. This time he wore no armor, just the sword and gun. He had no life left to protect.

“I wouldn’t go without saying good-bye.” Roan set her feet down.

Eliza stepped back still holding his hands. She raised one brow. “Is that all this is?”

Roan smiled. “I didn’t come all this way for words.” He tugged her close. “Unless pretty words is all you want?”

Her tongue moistened over her lip. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

The heat in his eyes burned all the way to her core. Her heart burst into flames. She would never be the same again. No other man could fill the gap that Roan would leave or fix the damage left by his passing. She tugged on his hair and caught his mouth, but he was ready. Fueling the spark.

Their lips touched and opened. A hungry, harsh, and desperate kiss that wounded. Neither could let go. His hands gripped her bottom, pressing her close. She moved against the hard length of his shaft. Like sunburn from the inside out, every touch was too much, but too little. Roan made her burn, and only he could cool her down.

“I’ve waited all my life to find you.” His forehead rested on hers. Kisses landed on her lips, stealing tastes.

The fabric of her dress bunched in his hand. His cool fingers skimmed across her bottom. “You’re not wearing underwear.”

“And you are overdressed.” Eliza pulled at his T-shirt.

He released her just long enough to slip out of his clothing and drop his weapons on the ground. She palmed the smooth planes of his chest. The scars were a part of the cloth that made Roan who he was. She kissed the one over his heart, knowing she would never hear it beat. His heart would never race as they made love. Would never allow anything but the love of gold inside. He took her down into the grass. It bent, a soft green mattress cradling her body.

Rain splashed on her skin, warm summer rain, not the acid of the Shadowlands. Roan glanced at the sky. Clouds had gathered in honor of the occasion, blocking out the sun. The last fling of the Goblin King was cast in shadows.

“The land is changing.” Roan placed his hands by her shoulders.

Beneath him she was dry. But the grass turned brown and wilted from his touch until she lay on bare dirt. “I don’t care where we are.”

Water dripped from the end of his hair onto her face. He kissed it away, tasting the water that fell on her skin. He rocked back onto his heels and turned his face to the rain. His lips curved. When he looked back at her, it became a grin. She glanced down and saw why. The sodden dress clung to her skin, revealing more than it hid.

His fingers traced the shape of her breast, circled the pink peak pressing against the fabric. She held her breath and waited as he undid the buttons down the front. His skin glistened in the rain. Raw and powerful. A Celtic god made mortal. Lightning streaked across the sky chased by an unseen, growling monster.

Roan lowered his head to the newly exposed skin. His tongue lapped the water from her nipple. Her fingers threaded into his hair and became lost among the dreadlocks and beads. She tipped her head back, arching toward him. Her body tight, charged, and ready burst. His hand glided up her thigh, over her hip, lifting her.

She worked her hands free. There was too much between them. She needed to feel his skin on her, in her. The button and zip of his camo separated between her fingers. He groaned as her knuckles brushed his shaft. So she did it again. The barest touch made him shudder. A king on his knees, between her legs, asking for more.

They fought over his pants, shoving them away, smearing rain-slicked skin with the gray dust that had taken the place of the grass. Roan lowered his hips. She held him close, taking him into her core. The heat in his eyes warred with something else. Seeing pain and loss drawn so clearly in eyes that had always been sunny brought back the reality. Reality had no place here, this was dream. Their dream.

Wrapped tight in Eliza’s arms, her hips moving in perfect rhythm with his, Roan tried to remember the moment when his heart would race like it would break. Searching for that perfect moment to be free. But he had been too numb for too long, with only gold fueling his desire, that he couldn’t fake being human.

For Eliza he tried, kissing her as if he could feel desire urging his heart faster, racing the rain that beat on his back. She responded, nipping at his lip, gasping as her sex tightened around his cock. His body wasn’t immune. But he didn’t want it to be over. Because once Eliza left him there would be nothing left of him. He nuzzled into her neck. She squirmed, but he held her still, drawing out every thrust into something he could carry with him, if not in his heart, then wrapped around the withered, gold-plated muscle.

The darkness in him retreated, backed into a corner by the bright star that now took up most of his horizon. It scorched and blinded. Knowing the familiar, cold black was behind him waiting for him to step over the edge and into the abyss was all that made him stand his ground from the new invader.

Eliza’s nails dug into his back. He buried himself in her. She came again, taking everything from him. And he let her. Everything he had, or was, was hers and had been since he’d first seen her all those years ago. Even then she’d kept him human. Behind him the abyss screamed as it faced the light, and he saw the bone-riddled edges. The remains of those who’d jumped. It chomped at his heels, the maw of the curse that wouldn’t let him rest.

But he rested over her. Their breath mingled as one.

Her hand cupped his cheek. “I love you.” She blinked too fast and forced a smile. Her finger lay over his lips. “I know…you can’t.”

His hands dug into the dirt. He wanted to respond, but he couldn’t lie to her. Roan kissed her finger. “I want you more than gold. I would trade it all if I could love you for just one breath.”

Beneath his hand something stirred, tickled his palm. He lifted his hand, and Eliza turned her head. Pink flowers broke through the dead grass and gray dirt. The ones he had tried to create for her now grew without effort. He plucked one out of the ground and tucked it behind her ear. The petals were the same shade of pink as her mouth. Their lips barely touched in a kiss more delicate than the strange magic at work around them.

“They were here last time.” She snapped a stem and pushed it through one of his beads.

“You had them in your hair last night.” In his hair the flower wilted and died.

“They only grow where you touch.”

He pulled back. She moaned as he left her body. He stood and pulled up his camo. Eliza was right. Any place he had touched was now filled with pink flowers. Flowers that died when he touched them, even though he’d created them. Around them the world was colored but bleached, as if the rain had stripped away the bright shades of the Summerland and left the land confused. Was it a nightmare or a dream?

“Look behind you.” Eliza sat up.

A ghost of a rainbow colored the gray sky. Roan frowned. None of this right. The icy magic of the Shadowlands still flowed in his blood. The heat of the Summerland ran just beneath the ground but too fast and too hot for him to touch. All magic would damn him. He sat back down in the dirt next to Eliza.

She leaned her head on his shoulder and smoothed her dress over her legs. He flicked the dirty hem up revealing more of her smooth thigh. She pushed it down, smiling, a dare in her eyes.

“Are you tempting me?”

“Is it working?”

He hauled her over so she straddled his hips. He lay back on the ground. Against his back tightly packed buds broke through the ground. Each petal that unfolded tickled his skin. Her dress gaped open around her breasts. He traced the neckline, drew her down for a kiss. She lay on his chest, her heart beating for both of them.

“Tell me about your life.” She twirled a dread around her finger. Her fingers danced over the beads.

Roan smoothed her hair. “What do you need to know? What do you want to remember about me?”

“Stay here until you’ve told me everything.”

“If I could hide here I would. But I can’t. Dai walks ever closer to the edge, and I can’t escape my fate. I gave up too much in the search for power to kill Elryion.”

She titled her head. “Did you have a family?”

“One brother, one sister. Both younger.” He sighed. She wanted to remember him as a man. She wanted to know his life before the curse had taken everything from him. At one point it would have chafed, but being remembered as a man was more than he’d ever thought possible. “She didn’t survive the rebellion.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was too long ago for that wound to still weep.” Like everything he’d known, they were long gone. The world had spun past him in a brilliant parade of history, marred only by the shadows of the goblins that watched, wishing they could take part. Eliza would selectively excise the memory of him as a goblin. A luxury he would never have.