Curse of the Fae King (6 page)

Meena knew her mother mourned her father and wept whenever she heard his name. Her distress crucified Meena, and she’d never asked any of the questions that rattled around in her brain. The main one being, what if her mother had been forced to decide between her true-mate or her daughter? Talk about Hobson’s choice, but her mother had abandoned everything to raise her. Goddess, that was a guilt trip in the making.

Confused and full of doubts, Meena couldn’t deal with the emotions the prisoner’s words sparked inside her. At least, not yet. There were too many unanswered questions, and she needed time to think. Either her father was dead, and their prisoner was a liar, or her father lived—but he’d rejected her and put her mother in an untenable position. No wonder Elizabeth Sybil wept whenever Meena mentioned her father.

There’d be questions later, once she’d rescued her mother. The most important being
Is my father still alive?
Damn it, she didn’t even know his name. Her mother always wore a signet ring stamped with letter
V
.
The initial of my dad’s first name?
Sometimes, her mother’s eyes misted with tears as she closed her hand around it. When she thought no one was listening, she sighed and whispered, “V, V, Vla…”

Her distress had swamped her daughter. Meena brimmed with hundreds of questions, but she’d never understood such utter sadness. The emotions Leonidas woke in her were a revelation. She wanted him, needed him, ached for him, and there wasn’t a moment she didn’t think about him. She hated that, just like her absentee father, he’d walk away. Her heart stuttered, and she knew that once he left, she’d never be whole again.

Sorrow settled on her shoulders as thick and heavy as the cloak she’d worn earlier. She didn’t really matter to Leonidas, but that hadn’t stopped her from giving him her heart. Rather than crumble, she quivered with anger.

Eyes blazing, she raised the knife and eyed the prisoner’s crotch. “Don’t lie. My father abandoned us before I was born, and he died soon after.”

But did he, really? Meena would move heaven and earth to rescue her mother. Then she’d insist on answers to the questions she’d never dared to ask.

Chapter Six

Meena angled the knife so the sun reflected on the blade. The prisoner’s eyes widened. His arms twitched and his thighs trembled. Despite the cool March wind, he started to sweat and shake. He gulped and stared at Leonidas. “Please, you look like a reasonable man. Don’t let your crazy girlfriend cut off my balls. I swear that’s what they said. Then we got orders to bring in the rest of her family.”

“Tell me about this director,” Leonidas demanded. “Convince me you’re telling the truth, and maybe I’ll find a way to control her. Although that challenge my woman issued has distinct possibilities—whether I win or lose.”

The prisoner shuddered, crossed his ankles, and slammed his knees together. Tears flowed down his cheeks, and his voice cracked. “Mordred Arthington doesn’t want druids or sprites interbreeding with purebred humans like us. He’s plowed billions into the People’s Defense League to protect our superior bloodlines. He’ll banish the lot of you back to your otherworld—permanently. Just you wait and see.”

Leonidas inhaled so sharply his breath whistled in his throat. “I have heard of him and of this League.”

“Well, I haven’t,” Meena snapped. “Who are they? And what do they want with my mother?”

The prisoner’s backbone stiffened slightly. He kept his legs crossed and hips rolled inward, but his voice reverberated with misplaced pride. “Me and Fred are their eyes and ears in Whitby—spies for a secret organization and all that. Everyone knows this town attracts all things paranormal and strange.”

Meena hated his superior tone. Scared or not, he condemned her—just like the Witches she’d once thought were her friends. They hated her lack of magic, but this People’s Defense League hated her for her family connections. Leonidas—a haughty warrior Fae—would despise her for not working magic. Even the Goth shop owner had fired her. All she ever wanted was to please.
Rejected again. Sweet Hekate, why don’t I belong anywhere?

The prisoner kept a wary eye on Meena’s knife. “We spotted the woman in Pannet Park. When she sat by the pond, the water lilies went crazy. It was like they were competing to see which one could put out the best flower. Thing is, Fred’s a bit of a gardener, and he knows they don’t bloom until June. They simmered down when she left, but we followed her to the herb farm, then reported back to Mordred. See, I said I’d tell you everything.”

Lipstick grew restless guarding their other prisoner and ambled up the hillside. When he spread his wings and sniffed at their voluble captive, their prisoner fainted.

“You’re a bloodthirsty woman. Quick-witted too.” Leonidas gave her a full-on grin that warmed her soul and melted her bones. His desire for her showed in his touch, the way he looked her up and down, but he still reached out and reclaimed his knife.

When the Witches had turned on her for her lack of magical prowess, she’d felt the weight of her failure. Now the sexiest man she’d ever met wanted her. The approval in his voice filled a void inside her. She straightened her shoulders and grinned. “It’s a good job he caved when he did since we wouldn’t really have hurt him.”

Leonidas raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t we? I already told you that you weren’t designed for battle, but at least I know your species now.”

“You do?” she spluttered, surprised it was even an issue. She saw his aura darken, but no thunder or lightning ripped through it. She didn’t understand why she could see it without witchy powers, especially since she’d never seen one around anyone else.

He curled his lip at the prisoner, then flashed her a smug smile that only added an extra sting to his words. “He named you a sprite or druid, both lesser species with a little green magic, but nothing of importance. Don’t frown. You are a beautiful woman, and my balls ache to possess you, whatever your origins. Once we free your mother, let me bed you until you scream my name. I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll dig your fingernails into my back and squeeze your pussy tight around my cock. Then I must return to my own life and leave you to enjoy yours.”

Meena didn’t know what hurt most—the way he called her a lesser creature, or the way he promised to abandon her after a bout of mind-blowing sex. “A word to the wise, my brave Fae warrior. You don’t seduce your way between a woman’s legs by telling her you’ll use her for sex, then disappear back where you came from—especially when her father did just that to her mother.”

“I didn’t… I can’t—” He stopped, took a deep breath, and some of his haughtiness faded from his face. “No promises, Meena, but I want you in my bed and in my arms. Our lives are too different for us to have a future, but we should enjoy each and every moment we share.”

Stay calm, she told herself. Don’t tell him he’s as prejudiced as this People’s Defense League. Not when you need his help.
Sweet Goddess
, she offered a silent prayer,
don’t let my hurt show in my voice
. But it did. “Glib, I’ll give you that, but a million miles from convincing. Sorry, Leo, you’re sexy as sin, but no way are you getting into my pants.”

He swaggered, shoulders back and proud his woman called him sexy—only she wasn’t his to keep. Rather than argue, he purred, “We shall see. However, even my inherent magic has vanished. These humans could see both me and my dragon. How do we visit your meat market with Lipstick in tow? If this coward’s reaction’s anything to go by, we will cause panic. Besides, they have wrecked your family car.”

“Let’s worry about that after we’ve found my mum.” She patted down the unconscious prisoner, then pulled some keys from his pocket. “These jokers had a tractor and trailer, so maybe while we ride up front, Lipstick could curl up in the trailer. How urgently do we need to feed greedy guts here? Can we head up to their farm first? It’s out near Sandsend, just a couple of miles from the abbey ruins where we first met.”

LEONIDAS’S BALLS ACHED. His dick stood at attention and demanded he fuck his rainbow-haired beauty until she shrieked with delight. Elves’ blood, he was the Fae king. No woman had ever rejected him—until Meena. For once he’d have to work to get between a woman’s legs, but if he didn’t bed someone soon, he’d turn feral. The last thing he wanted was to scare Meena like that.

He’d die before he hurt her, but the beast inside him wanted out in the worst way. It threw itself against his psyche, desperate to shatter the cage of cold emotion he’d built around it. This month, it wanted out early. Screaming in soundless agony, it beat its ham-hock fists against his chest.

Leonidas’s aura darkened. A storm cloud of mixed desires swirled through it, but since he was deprived of his innate magic, no thunderbolts or lightning assaulted his inner barriers.

He hated the wildness inside him, but his control was already wearing thin. He wanted to love Meena slowly and savor her sweet herbal taste. Just once he wanted to sate his own needs, not those of his mindless beast. Damn it, if he didn’t fuck her soon, he’d become the creature he despised—all fangs, claws, and uncontrollable cock.

His father had tried to pen the beast that the curse created inside him—and Leonidas had hated the results. Herodotus had become a sexual predator that fed on writhing bodies, multiple orgasms, and a woman’s lifeblood. Unlike his father, Leonidas had never killed a lover…yet.

Meena deserved romance and gentle passion, but he wanted to claw the clothes from her body and plunge his dick into her. Two more days, and his month was up—and so was Meena’s chance of a considerate lover. His beast was already rising. It demanded he take her, naked, kneeling on all fours. It wanted to sink its fangs into her neck as it claimed her from behind. Elves’ blood, he wanted it too. That bonding would make them inseparable, forever joined as one. Only true-mates bonded like that.

His desires should disgust him, but he needed her blood as well as her body—just the way he would if she was the one woman he could claim as his true-mate. But she couldn’t be his, ever. Not when she lacked any otherworld status or magical prowess. His frustration and sexual hunger drove him—didn’t they? He needed to bed her to stay in control of his beast. This yearning inside him wasn’t anything to do with the genuine affection and warmth she sparked inside him. It couldn’t be, not when he’d have to move on next month.

Part of him cared so deeply he couldn’t imagine his life without her. She’d already made her position clear on that. Better to lull her into a false sense of security, and once her resistance faded, he’d pounce.

“Our dragon,” he announced, “can forage in the kitchen at this farm once we have cleared out the Elves and released their prisoners. You will stay back and stay safe. You would not like to meet Mordred of Arthington.”

Elves’ blood, what’s Mordred up to now?
He should tell Meena everything, especially since her mother was bound up in this mess. Some secrets weren’t meant to be shared, but his protective instincts screamed,
Tell her as much of the truth as she needs.

Meena’s scowl said she wanted an explanation, but he didn’t want to go into detail. Then he realized her mother’s life might be in danger and admitted, “He’s an immortal masquerading as a human. Your People’s Defense League is full of fools.”

Meena tossed her curls over her shoulder and glanced between Leonidas and Lipstick. He saw a flash of suspicion in her eyes. After a moment’s thought, she asked, “Elves? Everyone knows they died out ages past. And what’s this about someone masquerading as human? I don’t understand.”

His superior smile made her bristle, but when he realized he could bargain for what he needed, he considered his words more carefully. “I will explain, but it will cost you a lover’s kiss.”

She thought about it longer than he liked, then planted a chaste kiss on his cheek. He rolled his eyes and pulled her so close her nipples brushed up against his chest—a delicious pressure that made him crave more. “I said a lover’s kiss, not the kiss of my maiden aunt.”

He needed to fuck someone soon—that or go insane. He hated mindless, impersonal sex. With Meena, everything they shared would be for their mutual pleasure and delight. Her wild herb and heather perfume tempted him as much as her body. She pursed her lips, pressed them briefly against his, then withdrew so quickly he winced.

That brief kiss was branded into his flesh. And his cheek wasn’t the only part of him that burned. His dick throbbed with the need to screw her until she forgot everyone but him. With her, he couldn’t tell where his curse ended and his own needs began.

He leaned toward her. Then when his lips should have touched hers, he paused and gazed into her eyes. His smile was flirty—a blatant sexual demand he hoped would win her heart and mind. Screw that. What he really wanted was her body. Wasn’t it?

He touched his lips to hers—a butterfly caress that fired up his cock, right along with his heartbeat. He pulled back and gave her another slow, seductive smile. Everything about her—from the way gold flecks sparkled in her hazel-hued eyes, to the way she used her snarky tongue for defense—enthralled him. Damn it, he could think of a million other uses for her tongue, and every one of them involved it swirling intricate patterns on his flesh. Whipped cream? Honey? Even flavored body oil? He’d take any one of them as long as he licked it off her soft, sweet-smelling skin.

His kiss started out playful—a light pressure that made Meena moan for more. When his tongue swept inside her mouth, he clamped one arm around her waist and buried his other hand in her hair. She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Her resistance melted into an ocean of boiling fire and need. Her nipples pearled and her back arched, pushing her breasts up against him. She went on tiptoe and pulled his lips to hers. Meena licked his lips in invitation. He kissed her back, gentle, almost tentative. No way would he scare her with his beast’s intensity. If he didn’t screw her soon, his beast would break free and tear into her flesh. It’d be a bloodbath, but he’d slit his own throat before he hurt her like that.