Legend 4 - Free Falling (6 page)

I didn’t have the opportunity to retort to this, and I was about to do just that, even though he was completely right and it was so totally my bad.

The next thing I knew his grip on my arm tightened to the point where I yelped and we were gone, moving together through space.

I closed my eyes. I didn’t know where he was taking me. I was pretty damn sure I didn’t want to go there. If I kept my eyes closed maybe this would all go away—maybe he would go away?

We were on terra firma, and I opened one eye. Nope. He was still with me, although he had loosened his bruising grip.

He pulled me ruthlessly against his rock-solid, muscular body. He was hissing between his teeth in a feral way that went right through me and actually made me shake in spite of all my resolves to stand bravely against him.

“Look around, Daoine
enfant
—watch your brethren as they move. Study them—learn from them.”

I looked around.

I was standing on sandy soil in the middle of what looked like an ancient Greek pantheon. It seemed larger than a football stadium. There were different sections, and in each were various Fae, both male and females, most of whom were (I gathered from the insignia torque each was wearing) Trackers—and really spellbinding to observe. They were engaged in mock sword fighting, jousting, javelin throwing, wrestling, and boxing.

Each Fae was serious, furious, and graceful, and it looked to me as though they were also synchronized as they engaged one another in mock battle. A Fae warrior would jab and move; the Fae at his back would step in to help and then shift off to help another. It was beautiful to watch.

Their movements were fluid and lithe, their purpose predetermined as individuals, and as a whole. Each had a plan for his/her own weapon. It was more, so much more than the might of the thrust. Each had a specific design of movement. Each Fae warrior had a strategy for withdrawal. Not one of the powerful Fae Trackers I was watching took anything for granted …

I saw it all in a flash of new dawning. That light bulb I had always heard about turned bright white in my head! By comparison I was nothing but a punk hoodlum street fighter, passable in a pinch, but if one of these Trackers were after me …? Well, I wasn’t so sure I would come out alive.
Not good.

Danté still had me in his fierce, rough hold. I could still feel my body shaking with shame and defiance. The two emotions collided and rolled off me.

I pushed away from him, and I knew my lips were curled. “You have made your point.”

“Not yet, I haven’t,” he said as he stepped away from me. He put up his hand skyward and said something in old Danu. He was calling for his weapon. I was surprised when two long swords arrived. He gripped them as he held them out to me and smiled wickedly. “Now, Daoine child, choose one. Let’s see, shall we, just what you’ve got!”

~ Six ~

WHEN DANTÉ SHIFTED me off to Trackers’ Stadium in Faery (Tir), it had been Friday.

We had been there for three agonizing hours. I mean, brutal.

When we were done, I was so tired I couldn’t move. Nerves in my legs twitched with pain—heck, nerves on my nerves twitched.

I am immortal because of the elixir, but the human in me takes much longer than a full-blooded Fae to heal.

I couldn’t let him see my discomfort, but when he put his hand on my arm and said it was time to go, I think I nearly collapsed into his arms. In fact, I think that, in the microsecond it took to shift from Faery to our world,
I fell asleep
.

All at once, I felt him positioning me in my car and strapping me in. I glanced around and noticed it was dark, and I mumbled through my tiredness, “Wow … look at the stars … must be close to midnight.”

He said on a low voice, “It is midnight … but not of the day we left here—it will be Sunday morning in another minute …”

That made me sit up, and oh, shouldn’t have done that. I ached all over, every inch, and I must have groaned because his Royal Self laughed out loud. “A few hours in bed and a hot tub are all you need—after all, you are Daoine. You will heal soon enough.”

I made a face at him. The human in me right now was hurting, and he had no sympathy whatsoever. Unfeeling, cold-blooded—I stopped myself on the thought that Friday was gone. Birthday—gone. Saturday was gone.

Time in Faery works way different than time in Man’s world, and there is no consistency to the way it ticks along. Life in Man’s world passes in the blink of an eye—it is no wonder the Fae (for the most part) regard humans as insignificant. Humans die after only living to what a Fae regards as an infinitesimal space in time. Fae—which is what I am—live forever …
that is unless we get killed of course.

I thought about it just before my eyes closed. The fact that we could be killed was actually a good thing—it made life more precious.

The next thing I knew I was being lowered into my bed. I had the vague feeling that Danté had carried me into the house and up the stairs. Why hadn’t he just shifted us? Perhaps I had only dreamt that he lifted me into his arms and carried me he-man style up to my room?

“We will continue your training after you have had some sleep,” he said as he drew up to his full height and looked down at me. I was snuggling into my pillow. He bent and pulled the covers up to my neck just before he started to move away.

“Yes, sleep …” I agreed greedily.

Fae don’t need to sleep. Many Fae will sleep, if only to give themselves some sense of time and structure, but they don’t really need it. I am still human in spite of the elixir of immortality. I still feel like I need sleep. I don’t need as much as the average Joe, but I like that quiet … dreamtime rest and need that at the very least.

He turned then and started off. I called out to him. Looking back at it now I have to wonder what was wrong with me. “Where are you going?” I heard myself ask. Why should I care?

“Are you worried I won’t be here in the morning?”

“Heck no … just wondering—never mind.”

“Good night,
enfant
,” he said, and this time he shifted off.

I
sighed heavily and don’t remember a thing as I (for the first time in ages) slept like a baby.

* * *

With her tall, graceful height, her flaming red hair, her alabaster skin, and her iridescent green eyes she was absolutely a bewitchingly lovely creature. Her body was tantalizing although she used it too flagrantly for my liking.

“Danté!” she called out my name.

I stood and waited for her to approach and could not help but notice that she was surely built along magnificent lines, as were most of our Fae females. She was definitely a gladiator or what some might call an Amazon of a female. Her name was Atha, and I knew just how potent a female Fae she actually was.

The twenty thousand years she had lived had taught her how to be an important part of the Queen’s Council, and as of late I had wondered about her.

Her scent wafted my way—she used a lavender mixture—and then she was reaching for my hand. I took her fingers and bent over them.

“Oh Danté darling … your golden eyes are alive with mischief. Just what have you been doing?”

I knew better than to answer and said because it was true, “Atha … you are stunning as always.”

She linked her arm through mine and softly said, “Walk with me, Danté.”

It was exactly what I wanted to do. It was why I left my
enfant
and returned to Faery—to seek her out.

She was a sexual creature, but until recently I had not been interested in taking our mild flirtation any further. She seemed interested in doing just that, and I knew (because I was no fool) that she wanted pillow talk …

“What do you have on your mind, beauty?”

“The Council has begun to panic. They believe, as does our queen, that we have another traitor … right in our very midst. As of late, our queen does not keep us informed about matters that need our arbitration.”

“She is the queen. She designed and set the Council in place, and I suppose she could take it apart should she feel that necessary. I never question our queen.”

She put on a shocked face, but I was not fooled. She said, with her hand to her heart, “No … nor do I.”

“Then, beauty, what worries you?”

“I cannot believe one of us on the Council is a traitor. Most of us have been on the Council for eons …”

“Not all of us,” I returned, raising one eyebrow.

She smiled demurely at me. Did she think such as I could be taken in by that sort of tactic? “No … of course, there are some of us newly appointed. Ete for one.”

That made me snort. “You can’t mean to accuse Princess Ete?”

“Of course not. I am not a lunatic,” she said as she rapped my bare arm and then allowed her finger to linger and move upwards towards my bicep, where she played a moment with my gold armband.

No, cunning is what you are
, I thought as I watched her play up to me.

“There are quite a few members that have taken a place on the board over the last few years …
Roen
, for one,” she said softly, eyeing me for a reaction.

“You cannot mean to look
his
way … no more than I could look at
you
for the crime of treason. As I recall, you came to the board—what … less than one hundred years ago, and … er … for a time were you and Gais not
close
?”

“For a time—yes, but it was a casual thing. I was not interested in more than that.” Atha sighed and waved her hand about dismissively. “You see—it is impossible to choose a traitor amongst our Council. We should look elsewhere.”

“No one else would be privy to the queen’s plans.”

“Except for the Trackers …”

That brought me up short. It was in a Tracker’s blood to guard and protect our queen and our race. What she was suggesting was blatantly outrageous. I stared at her hard because I wanted her to see that she was traveling down a dangerous path. “You can’t mean to accuse our Nuad or any of his men … and only Nuad is privy to our Council secrets.”

“Oh, I know Nuad is a friend of yours, but one can never be certain …”

“He is more than a friend. We have fought side by side. He would lay down his immortal life for our queen, which is more than I can say for most of our Council members!”

“Come, let us go to the pavilion and forget this discussion for now,” Atha said, immediately retracting.

I pulled her close. “Aye then, Atha …
music
for now.”

She smiled, and even with her height she got onto her toes to place a warm kiss on my mouth.

It was at that moment that I got a call on a special frequency. I stroked Atha’s arm and told her, “Forgive me, beauty. I am being paged by the queen.”

I didn’t miss the calculating look in her eyes as I shifted off and into Queen Aaibhe’s private chamber.

“I just narrowly missed bumping into you two. Have you any news?” Aaibhe asked as she regarded me. She was not smiling.

“Do you question my progress with the lovely Atha or my guardianship with the miserable Daoine child?”

The queen’s laugh was light. “Both, dear Prince—I am interested in both lovelies.”

“The
enfant
is a brat with a great deal of potential. She will do, if only she would listen.”

“And your interest in Atha, my Prince. What of that?”

“That, my Queen, is a totally different matter.”

The queen frowned briefly, and then she put up a finger and smiled. “We have a guest.”

“Danté,” Ete called in that light and musical voice that was all her own. She closed the door at her back and skittered across the marble floor to take my outstretched hands in hers. She jumped up to kiss my cheek. “Oh how wonderful … you are here. Tell me everything.”

I looked her over and shook my head admiringly. The pretty Princess Ete is an exquisite beauty, smaller than most Fae females. She is young, pert, and sassy, and she’s my best friend’s ‘one and only’.

I grinned. “The first thing I will tell you is that Breslyn is a damn lucky Fae. The second thing I will tell you is that you are perfection. Where is our big, bad warrior anyway?”

Ete eyed me saucily. “I know you are just avoiding answering me.” She swayed her hips naughtily. “I saw you, Danté, with Atha.”

“Did you?”

“Yes, I did, and I have to tell you at once … I don’t like her.”

Both the queen and I burst out laughing, and the queen put up her hand. “Dearest Ete … I need to speak with Danté for just a moment. Go and do something else for a little while, and when you get back, I promise, one of us will fill you in.”

“Agreed,” Ete said with a nod of her chin as she shifted off.

~ Seven ~

“OH GOSH … WHAT has that awful prince done to you, Z?” I asked myself as I tried to get out of bed. Aches and pains were gone, but I was stiff as a board—I suppose some residual effects of the three-hour beating.

The human in me slows down the healing process, which in a Fae is instantaneous. The elixir allows me to heal as quickly as I can without actually straining my human parts. It also creates an invisible shield internally; no weapon save a Danu weapon can pierce through that shield to any vital artery or organ. That was what my mom had explained when I turned eighteen. She said that I would continue to show age until I was about twenty-five as well.

Thus, I woke up full of energy but not quite ready to take Danté on immediately. He had not handicapped me in our swordplay or our javelin throwing. He had, in fact, taken a great deal of pleasure in besting me each and every time. It had been humiliating and infuriating. However, he was right. I had to assume Gais (according to his Royal Self) was almost as good as he was with a weapon.

Danté said I wouldn’t be ready to face Gais until I could beat him, and he said he didn’t see that happening—ever.
Ha!

I wanted to see him though, in spite of the fact that he was supremely annoying. He had said something about my skill at shifting. He said I was clumsy. Didn’t know what he meant by that, but I meant to find out.

After a thorough search of the house and the immediate grounds—no Danté. So where the heck was he? I made my way back to the house from the rear gardens, and lo and behold, he was in the kitchen with Sally.

The kitchen was the only room I had not searched because I hadn’t wanted Sally to start shoving food in my mouth—although the coffee smelled wonderful. As I made a face at Danté, I moved over, kissed Sally, and poured myself a cup.

He was sampling some of her biscuits with great relish. I could see from her face that she was very pleased (and very taken) with him. I knew he had told her he was one of my mom’s friends, here to look after me at her request. She seemed to believe this without question, which I found odd, as Sally questioned everything.

At the moment she stuck a piece of a muffin in my mouth and told me firmly to sit. I sat, as it was so good—the muffin that is—and it occurred to me I hadn’t eaten in a very, very long time!

I nodded at the hunk in blue jeans and a black, silky long-sleeved T. My mouth was full, so I couldn’t speak, but I sure could see. No getting away from it. He was beyond a ten! Way beyond. He had his tawny hair braided, folded under, and tied with a leather string at the nape of his neck, and he was moving towards the table with a plateful of pastries and a mug of coffee.

I swallowed hard and reached for a pastry. He slapped my hand and said, “Get your own.”

I was so startled all I could do was wrinkle my nose at him. He laughed and said, “Jesting,
enfant
, just jesting—go ahead, dig in.”

I allowed him a half smile and did just that. Didn’t bother to speak for a few moments as I devoured pastries and drank down two cups of black coffee. Oh yeah.

Sally handed us each a plate of eggs and bacon. “No argument—don’t want to hear of it … whist—there, go on … eat!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Danté said and chuckled.

I was starving and beamed at Sally. “Sweet. I wouldn’t dream of arguing with you. This is just what I wanted.”

What I wanted was to have a private conversation with himself who was presently stuffing his face across from me, but obviously I couldn’t do it with Sally hovering. I said idly, “Want to take a walk with me after this?”

He eyed me darkly. “Not really.”

That set me momentarily off my game. “Oh—why not?”

“I said I didn’t really want to,
but I will
take a walk with you,” he said with a smirk that shouted, ‘
got you where I want you’.

Oh, he was so annoying. We ate in silence. I sat back and told Sally she was the best ever. When I looked back I noticed Danté staring at my belly. I realized that my little blue knit sweater had risen, and my low-cut jeans had slid; peeking out was a bit of my tattoo. I felt myself blush. I watched him as his thick lashes shaded his gold-flecked eyes.

Time to leave, I told myself as I got up and went to the hall closet. I snatched up my curly wool–lined brown leather blazer. He had followed me into the hall, and I turned and asked, “Ready?”

He shrugged into the black leather pilot-styled jacket he had in his hand. Without answering me, he took the doorknob from my hold and opened the door wide. Still without a word he waved me forward. I shrugged to myself.
Control freak.

I waited until we were a distance from the kitchen before I looked up at his profile and asked, “Why did you tell me when we were in Faery that I don’t even know how to shift?
I know how to shift.”

“You shift like an oaf.”

“Now stop that!” I nearly stomped my foot. “If you want to help me—guard me from evil—whatever, fine. I admit I don’t know as much as I should. I wasn’t expecting to be in this position.”

He stopped then and took my shoulders to make me face him. “You ask for respect,
enfant
Daoine? Why do you think I should give you respect when you do not offer the same?”

I was looking up into those gold-lit eyes. I was looking at his sensuous lips, curved now into a sneer, and the person I used to be wagged a finger
at me
in my mind. Before I could stop myself I whined, “I’m sorry …
my bad
.”
Yuck
, I thought,
who is that? No tough warrior—just a fool!

He regarded me suspiciously for a moment before inclining his head. “Right. We will start over. Your shifting style is like spontaneous combustion. You boom through the atmosphere leaving your scent all the way to your destination. Even an Unseelie Drone could follow the trail you leave.”

“I … it … this Fae thing is basically all new to me. I haven’t shifted much, you see—I was living a human life. My mom wanted me to live my human life, enjoy friends my own age, and I never bothered with my Fae skills much … before.” I wasn’t looking at him as I thought of my dad.

He dropped my shoulders from his hold, but he was looking at me still. “We will work on them—your Fae skills. You need to use your abilities to their full potential. And you need to be discreet.” He shook his head. “You haven’t had enough interaction in battle to know how useless you are.”

“Hey—you said we would try and respect each other. That is not trying.” I pouted as I thought about his words. I knew I was pouting, but I didn’t bother to control myself. I was ticked at everything and everyone. Now, after I had been training myself for weeks, he had basically told me I was ‘nothing’. It ruffled my feathers in the wrong direction. There was more I needed to know, though, so I quickly asked, “What do you mean, I leave a trail? How can I not?”

“We all have a scent of our own. All Seelie Fae have the alluring scent of Tir, pines, a bit of vanilla, and herbs, but each of us also carries a very distinct but discreet scent all our own. A Tracker who is greatly skilled can follow even the faintest scent to any particular being. Gaiscioch possesses enough of a skill to follow a strong scent. You, Daoine, leave a strong scent—one of strawberries and rosemary that is all your own. It is a part of who you are, and you haven’t a clue how to disguise yourself, or at the very least, leave as little behind as you can.”

My temper rose—how could it not? “It is all very well for you to tell me I don’t know this and I don’t know that …” I frowned up at him. “Is that how you followed me to Inverness?”

“No. I have … another way.”

“What
another way
?”

“It doesn’t matter. You are safe now and back at MacDaun, and when you leave … you can be comfortable in the knowledge that I can follow.”

“Yes, but …?”

“Now tell me, when did you tattoo yourself?”

“I didn’t tattoo myself. I went into Inverness and had a professional do it. I have been teaching myself black magic and needed the protection. I have a band of runes and knots on my arm as well, and one just here …” I pointed to the small spot just above the crack in my butt, and then I felt myself blush. I noted silently that he was always making me blush for one reason or another. I didn’t really blush—not that shy around the guys, you know. It was irritating.

He regarded me from guarded eyes as he thought that over and then said softly, “Yes, that was wise of you. Even the strongest-minded amongst the Fae can become the target of dangerous magic, if we don’t protect ourselves against its backlash.”

“But not you, huh?” I directed my pointer finger in a swirl from his head to his toes and wondered if there was ink on his big, hard body. “No tatts?”

“Just because you can’t see them, doesn’t mean they aren’t there. I have my share, but I don’t advertise them. Black magic can be very helpful in a battle where your opponent means to use it to his advantage, and I am ever ready.”

He had diverted me from one of my earlier concerns. I recalled it and cocked a look at him. “Fine, now tell me … how did you track me?”

He grinned from ear to ear and said softly, “You don’t need to know.”

“Oh, yes I do,” I snapped, sounding juvenile even to myself.

He shrugged as though to say,
There is nothing you can do about it. I
can track you, and
that is that.

Of all the most annoying beings in the universe, Danté had to hold high title! I wasn’t going to get any more out of him, so I let it go—at least, for the moment.

He frowned suddenly, and a serious hardness held his face sternly as he reached for and took my hand. “
Enfant
 … I must leave you for a few hours … I have been called to Tir. Promise me you will not leave MacDaun until I return?”

He was still holding my hand. I felt myself shiver and immediately prayed he had not sensed it. No way, no how, was I going to let my raging hormones into this mix. After all, I could scarcely tolerate his big Royal Self—and besides, I had no time for sex or romance … So, I eyed him irritably but finally, grudgingly offered, “I promise.”

He smiled broadly, and I had to admit again,
shivers
. Hormones, you know, have no boss. They are in charge and come and go as they will.

It popped into my mind that if a girl were interested, he could most certainly stoke up her fire. Good thing I didn’t have the slightest romantic interest in him. Not one bit. Besides, he wasn’t in the least my type. He was too big and brawny. He was too handsome, too masculine, too controlling … too … and whether he looked it or not, there was the age thing. I mean he had lived for eons, and there was I, twenty-one. No match there. Besides, he didn’t like me. In fact, dislike, impatience, and irritation at my company dripped off him in globs! He was here because the queen had commanded this mission. He didn’t have a choice. And besides all that, my heart was shut down, closed off, not in danger—because it just wasn’t working.

He shifted off, and man, he was right; he was good at what he did. I sure couldn’t track him, and for a few minutes I actually tried. Gave it up though because I knew that, whatever he did to disguise his comings and goings in the atmosphere, it was way beyond my present talent to detect.

Disguising my scent was just one more thing I was going to have to learn. I sighed and suddenly felt tired—beat-up tired, like it was all becoming over the top for me.

And then I remembered my dad and just how he’d been murdered. I remembered my mom, who might never come out of her illusion …

Tears started to sting my eyes. I tried to focus on the herd of sheep grazing in the pasture to the west. It wasn’t working. My thoughts started to frenzy, so I shored my feelings up and headed for my favorite wooded trail through our dark forest. It was a beautiful wide border forest and always reminded me of some enchanted wood from
Grimms’ Fairy Tales
.

It was a damp day, and I could feel the mist increasing. I really needed to head home before I got soaked. Oh, I know, I could’ve shifted—but that damn human in me was still at the head of the class, demanding that I retain my human qualities.

That was when I saw him and stopped dead in my tracks.

He was a stranger, and we don’t get strangers on our land.

He walked briskly out of the dark pinewoods and saw me at once, smiled, and started towards me.

I felt myself tense. I felt the air in my lungs freeze. Some warrior, huh? I mean, I knew at once that he was human. No danger there, so what was the problem?

The stranger stopped and as though sensing my wariness tried to compensate by smiling like a fool. Then he took another, albeit hesitant, step towards me.

I heard a faint apology on his lips and zeroed in on what he was saying, noticing at once that not only did he speak with an Irish brogue (not a Scottish accent), but that both his voice and himself were very attractive.

I mean, before I lost my dad and gave up school, this hotty would have set my heart to flutter, and I would have been sending him some come-hither vibes. Now, all I felt was impatience to move on.