The Order of Brigid's Cross - The Wild Hunt (Book 1): The Wild Hunt (31 page)
Read The Order of Brigid's Cross - The Wild Hunt (Book 1): The Wild Hunt Online
Authors: Terri Reid
Sean stood at the front window of his apartment building gazing
out across the Chicago skyline and sighed with satisfaction.
His city was safe for another night.
With a towel slung low around his waist and
the dripping garbage bags positioned about his body, he thought about going
into his bedroom to dress, but he just couldn’t seem to tear himself away from
the view.
The hot shower he’d just taken had felt amazing, but the
maneuvering to keep water away from his cast and other bandages had been more
than a little tricky.
He’d taped a large,
lawn-leaf garbage bag around his arm to keep the cast and stitches dry, then
he’d tied a few smaller grocery store plastic bags around various other parts
of his body that had been stitched or stapled by the good doctor.
Finally, with the water pouring out of the shower
head, he’d luxuriated with a bar of manly smelling soap that his mother had
purchased for him and the hottest water he could stand and washed the dirt and
grass stains from Soldier Field off his body.
On the way from the bathroom to his bedroom, the window had
caught his eye.
Knowing he was safe from
Peeping Toms because he was on the third floor, he walked over to gaze upon the
city he loved. The city he almost had to leave.
He moved closer to the window, saw his reflection and chuckled.
He looked like a superhero from planet
Recycle.
“Hi,” he said to his reflection, lowering his voice an
octave for drama. “I’m bagman.”
“And here I thought you’d been referring to a bat?”
Sean spun around; gripping the towel tightly in both hands to
be sure it didn’t slip and faced Em. “Don’t you ever knock?”
“I thought you might be sleeping after the night you had and
I didn’t want to wake you,” she replied, the corner of her mouth turned up in a
smile. “I had no idea that you were playing dress up.”
“I’m not playing dress-up,” he replied indignantly. “I’m
protecting my wounds.”
She cocked her head slightly. “The doctor gave you those?”
she asked.
“No, he didn’t. He just told me not to get my stitches wet
and this was the only thing I could think of.”
She nodded slowly. “Aye, oh well, when you put it that way
it makes much more sense,” she said, biting her lip to stifle her laughter.
“You’re laughing at me,” he accused.
“Oh, no,” she said, lifting her hands in surrender. “I
promise
,
I’m doing my very best not to laugh at you.”
“I’m going to change,” he huffed, moving past her.
“Don’t do it on my account,” she said, watching him as he
strode down the hall.
The door slammed behind him and a wide smile appeared on her
face. “Aye, he’s a fine strapping lad,” she whispered.
A few minutes later he was back, dressed in worn blue jeans
and a dark t-shirt that showed wet spots from where he’d pulled it over his
still damp body.
He’d combed his wet
hair back off his face with his fingers and the stubbled on his face was dark and
pronounced.
In Em’s estimation he looked
far more tempting than any of the faery she’d ever encountered.
“Okay,” he huffed impatiently, marching barefoot back into
the room. “What did you need?”
She stuck her hand into her purse and pulled out a small
prescription bottle. “You left these in Father Jack’s kitchen,” she said,
handing him the pain pills. “I thought you might
be needing
them tonight and I didn’t want you to go without.”
Sighing, he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Em,” he said. “I was
already beginning to feel the pain return. Thank you for bringing them.”
She stepped up and placed them in his hand.
He opened the bottle, poured three of them
into his hand, popped them into his mouth and picked up a bottle of water on
the kitchen counter to wash them down. “Thank you again,” he said after he
swallowed. “Sorry for being an ass.”
“Ah, well, you are allowed to be an ass on the evening you
vanquished the Elk King and you are almost…” she paused and her voice
broke.
Inhaling quickly, she tried to
turn away, but Sean caught her shoulders and kept her in place.
“Em?” he asked softly. “Are you okay?”
She sniffled and wiped her face impatiently. “No, I’m not
okay, you big, blundering dolt,” she said angrily.
“I already said I was sorry,” he said, confused.
“Said you were sorry?” she exclaimed. “Said you were
sorry!?!”
She marched up to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and
pulled his head down for a passionate kiss.
The power of the kiss punched him with nearly as much force as the Elk
King’s sword and he almost staggered backwards, but instead wrapped his arms
around her and kissed her back.
She
moaned softly and he deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth, the sweetness that
tasted of wild heather and honey.
“Em,” he whispered, sliding his mouth from her lips and
tasting the delicate skin along her jawline.
“Aye,” she breathed back, her eyes closed, her head thrown
back to allow his more access.
“I like this more than fencing with you,” he said, nibbling
on the edge of her earlobe.
She shivered delicately and laughed softly. “I do too,” she
agreed. “But it’s much more dangerous, Sean O’Reilly.”
“Em,” he said, but this time his voice held more confusion
than passion.
She leaned back and looked at him.
His eyes were wide and out of focus. “Sean?”
she asked.
“Em,” he repeated, his voice slightly slurred. “I think I
might…”
She caught him as he passed out and gently dragged him back
down the hall to his bedroom.
Sliding up
close to the bed, she angled him over and finally laid him across the bed, his
legs dangling off the side. “I’m sorry,” she said to the sleeping man. “I’m
afraid to pull you for fear I’ll pop your stitches.”
She pulled the extra blanket from the bottom of the bed and
covered him with it, then turned and switched off the bedside lamp.
Leaning over, she placed a kiss on his
forehead. “Good night, Sean,” she whispered.
He smiled in his sleep and her heart fluttered.
“Good night, Ma,” he replied, and then he rolled over on his
side and began to snore.
Chuckling, she shook her head and smiled down at him.
“You’re nothing but a big, blundering dolt,” she said tenderly. “Sweet dreams,
Sean O’Reilly.”
The well-dressed man burst into the private interrogation
room at the Chicago Police Department’s Twelfth District office.
“What the hell did you do?” he screamed at
the detective sitting on the other side of the table.
“What do you mean?” Adrian Williams asked, leaning back in
his chair.
“You know good and well what I mean,” the man continued.
“The Hunt was supposed to show up at Grant Park this afternoon, and nothing
happened.”
Adrian shook his head. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re
talking about,” he replied.
The man slapped his hands on the other side of the table and
stared down at Adrian. “Don’t you play games with me, Detective,” he said. “I
own you. I tell you what to do. And I tell you how to do it.
You were under strict orders from me to order
the Hunt to Grant Park in time for the Children’s Concert, and you screwed it
up.”
“Is that enough?” Adrian asked.
“Enough?” the man bellowed. “What the hell do you mean is
that enough?”
Adrian stood up, placed his hands on his side of the table
and leaned towards the man, the detective’s large frame looming over the irate
man. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he said.
“What?”
The door opened behind the man, and Sean, Father Jack and
Aengus stepped inside the room. “It was enough for me,” Sean said.
“How about you two?”
Aengus stepped forward and grabbed the man by his collar,
lifting him off the floor and shoving him into the wall.
“Lugh.
You are a traitor.”
The faerie did not squirm but met Aengus’s gaze with an
equally vitriolic one of his own. “Who is the traitor here?” he spat.
“The one who sits back in
luxury while his brethren are trapped in the underworld or the one who fights
for their freedom?”
“And how does killing innocents aid your cause in any way?”
Aengus countered.
“There are no innocents in this war,” he said. “If they are
not the Unseelie, then they are our enemy.”
“Children?”
Sean asked. “Children
are your enemy?”
“They will grow up,” Lugh replied. “They will grow up and
follow the beliefs of their parents. The only way we will ever be truly free is
if they are destroyed and we have rule over the entire world.”
Aengus tightened his grip, and Lugh’s face turned red as he
fought for breath.
“Aengus, he will be of little use to us dead,” Father Jack
said softly. “He is not the head of this organization. He is only a hot-headed
messenger boy and eminently expendable.”
“I am not a messenger boy,” Lugh growled.
“Then why were you not told that the Hunt was defeated last
night and sent down to faery?” Father Jack asked
,
his
eyebrow lifted in curiosity. “Surely, those above you would know the happenings
in faery. Surely, if they valued you, they would not have allowed you to walk
into this set-up.
Obviously, they were
willing to sacrifice you.”
He shook his head. “No,” he argued. “No, they would not do
that.”
Jack pulled a pair of old handcuffs out of his pocket and
grabbed Lugh’s arm, clicking the cuffs around his wrist. Lugh screamed in pain.
“Sorry, these old handcuffs are made of cast iron,” Jack
explained. “They are the only ones that seem to work when I’m dealing with the
fae.”
Aengus released his hold on Lugh’s collar, and the faerie
fell to the ground. Jack grabbed his other arm, pulled it behind him and
slipped the other handcuff on. “Now, Aengus, I believe we would both like the
opportunity to question Lugh,” he said. “And I will be happy to remove these
handcuffs for you, once he’s answered my questions.”
“Fine,” Aengus replied, looking down at Lugh in disgust.
“But once we are done questioning him, I will see to his…” He paused and smiled
serenely at Jack.
“Disposal.”
“That’s according to the rules of the treaty,” Father Jack
agreed. “And I won’t argue that.”
“Wait,” Adrian said. “I don’t think we can let you do that.”
He turned to Sean. “Can we let them take our prisoner like
that?”
Sean leaned back against the
wall,
his arms folded over his chest, and met Adrian’s eyes. “What would you charge
him with?” he asked.
Adrian opened his mouth several times and finally shook his
head. “Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed. “I got nothing.”
“I do have a request,” Sean said, turning to Aengus.
Aengus nodded.
“Your buddy, Lugh here, messed up my friend’s mind,” Sean
said. “I want you to take care of it so he’s no longer getting updates from the
bad guys.”
Aengus strolled across the room and placed his hand on
Adrian’s head. He started to close his eyes, but then they popped open in
surprise. “What the…”
“Oh, sorry,” Adrian said then pulled his baseball cap off
his head and removed the small stainless steel bowl beneath it.
“Insurance.”
“Indeed,” Aengus remarked, his high eyebrows reaching even
higher.
Once again, he placed his hands on Adrian’s head, closed his
eyes and whispered to himself.
After a
few moments, he stepped away.
“How do you feel?” Sean asked Adrian.
Adrian stood silent for a moment and then nodded his head.
“Yeah, I feel better,” he said. “There’s no more ringing in the back of my
head.”
“You are welcome,” Aengus said sardonically.
“Such a sweet guy,” Sean said. “And if you took better care
of your own subjects, we wouldn’t have been in this mess, would we?”
Aengus glared at Sean. “You should learn some respect.”
“My parents taught me to show respect,” he said. “But first
you have to earn it. So far, I haven’t seen anything but a spoiled, rich brat
with a bad sense of fashion. Grow up and start taking some responsibility for
your people, and then I’ll show you some respect.”
Grabbing Lugh by the back of the collar, Aengus slammed open
the door, stormed out of the room and down the hall.
Father Jack inhaled deeply and walked slowly to the door.
“Father,” Sean said, stopping him in the doorway.
Jack turned back to Sean. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry,” Sean said. “That was probably out of line.”
Jack met Sean’s eyes and smiled. “No, actually, it was
perfect,” he said. “And I wish I had had the courage to do that a long time
ago.”
He chuckled softly and started
walking out the door.
Then he stopped
and stuck his head back inside. “I’m glad you’re on the team, Sean. You’re
going to make things a lot more interesting.”
About
the author:
Terri Reid lives near Freeport, the home of
the Mary O’Reilly Mystery Series, and loves a good ghost story.
She lives in a hundred year-old farmhouse
complete with its own ghost. She loves hearing from her readers at
[email protected]
Other Books by Terri Reid:
Mary O’Reilly Paranormal Mystery
Series:
Treasured
Legacies (Book Twelve)
Buried Innocence (Book Thirteen)
Mary
O’Reilly Short Stories
PRCD Case Files:
The
Ghosts
Of
New Orleans -A Paranormal Research and
Containment Division Case File
Eochaidh:
Legend of the
Horseman (Book One)
Romance: