Loving Ean (The Fae Guard Book 2) (36 page)

The night is getting blacker and I look up to see dark clouds closing over us, the smell of fresh rain starting to permeate the air. The wind speed continues to grow and it’s whipping around us, and slanted rain begins to pelt us (if this were a movie, the special effects here could be awesome). Aden and Shaylee have quietly moved all the way around to stand behind Aodhagan, keeping their distance but making it easier for them to control another angle. Brannon and Kendrix have also moved and are now standing at a distance, on either side of Aodhagan.

Laila reaches over and grabs my hand, heat bursts through my every cell and explodes in a rush of power, and suddenly, I’m sheltered from the water. Laila has picked up the wind around us and is deflecting the rain away before it can land on or anywhere near us. I keep up with the wind and let the heat of our matched souls flow, letting her soak it up and do her thing. That’s when lightning starts striking near Aodhagan, bolt after bolt hitting the ground surrounding him, in a sphere-like pattern. Each strike is just close enough to him, that he is forced to step away or be singed, taking some of his concentration off of the storm. After a moment, I realize she is drying the ground around him. The wind shifts and I no longer feel it blowing in one direction, it’s converging over us all from every angle, forcing the falling water to blow over into the trees.

Aden says something to Shaylee and gestures to the ground around Aodhagan where Laila is still piercing it with streaks of light, making it sizzle and smoke. Despite all of us working with the wind, a surge comes from the center, almost knocking a few of us on our asses, and letting a torrent of rain saturate the grass again.

Ok. One point to Aodhagan.
I’ll admit that he is a talented motherfucker, but I do so grudgingly.

Laila, waves to get Aden’s attention and it distracts me for a second, and a flush of rain water escapes, soaking the ground around Laila and I. It becomes even muddier and our feet sink into it, I can feel subtle suction on my shoes and I trudge back carefully, pulling Laila with me.
Shit!
Another accident, like that, and we’ll be sinking into a mud hole.

Where the fuck is Fate?!

Laila leans in close, and I bed my knees so that she can yell into my ear over the deafening sounds of wind, rain, lightning, and thunder. “Keep the lightning going!” I nod, in acknowledgement and concentrate on creating the electrostatic charge between a cloud and the ground. She waves again and gets Aden’s attention, then points to his right. I don’t risk taking my eyes off of the ground around Aodhagan so that my strikes won’t hit him. Fate would be seriously pissed if I killed him, accident or not. However, out of my peripheral, I see someone standing where Laila is pointing. Must be Hayleigh.

I hazard a glance at Aodhagan and his face is so filled with rage, it’s practically purple. He is soaking wet because his control of the wind can only push against all of us enough that it basically puts him in the eye of our little storm and the water is not deflected there. He’s looking to the sky just behind Laila and me, then, turning in every direction with his gaze at the same height.

I notice that each streak of lightning is now illuminating the areas around the tree line brighter than where I am choosing for it to land. It’s because that space is growing darker, so the light seems brighter as it illuminates the shadowed sections. The strikes are in rapid succession, and the area starts to pulse as though we’d hung strobe lights.

Laila squeezes my hand, indicating that she needs to speak again, so I lower once more, “OK. You can stop.” I immediately let up and equalize the electrically charged regions of the clouds. Exhaustion washes through me and I look to see if the others are holding up, but their faces are not clear because of how dark it is. I look up. HOLY FUCK! Hayleigh had clearly been walking the perimeter and growing the trees out toward the center of the clearing, attaching to each other and forming a canopy. Laila must have been telling Aden that he and Shaylee should help her out.

As I watch, the center weaves together but it’s left without the density so that light from the moon can seep through, keeping us from total darkness. It’s also open just enough that Aodhagan is still in the path of the rain, whereas it can no longer reach those of us under the solid thatches. Brannon and Kendrix have both sunk to the ground and are leaning against trees, looking depleted. However, I can still feel the winds they are creating with their last vestiges of energy. Aodhagan is looking haggard, as well. Without the need to create lightning, Laila and I keep the rain falling, although we isolate it and dissipate any clouds around it, so that there is maximum moonlight illuminating our little cave.

Aden and Shaylee are helping the boys and Hayleigh to keep Aodhagan and the rain in a cocoon. Laila is resting heavily into my side and I let go of her hand to put my arm around her waist but I almost fall over at the sudden weight of every fatigued muscle in my body, and for a second, the rain falters. Laila grabs my hand again and the weight lessens and a small rush of warmth flows into me again. I gesture to the ground and we carefully sink down, hitting the ground with a little thump as our butts land. Keeping a hold of Laila’s hand, I lift my arm over her head so that it crosses her back and her arm crosses in front, our joint limbs meeting at her left shoulder. Then I urge her over to sit on my lap, once there, we briefly disconnect to switch hands, so that I can wrap her up, my arms resting against her stomach, and hers on top, our fingers laced together. She leans against my chest and our body heat dries us from the inside out.

“Looks like I missed a hell of a party.”

My head snaps up and I see Fate standing near Aodhagan, looking around satisfactorily, with her hands on her hips. Anger blows through me like a speeding train and Laila must sense that I’m headed for an irreversible crash because she lifts her head and kisses my jaw. “Let it go, Ean. It’s done. Just let it go.” Her quiet words soothe me and some of my anger melts, enough that I’m able to keep my mouth shut, but I’m glaring daggers at her, wishing her lots of pain.

Aden looks to be in about the same state, clearly being talked down by his woman, as well. My brows hit my hair line when I notice that Hayleigh, Brannon, and Kendrix are all passed out on the ground. I hadn’t noticed that they’d run their wells dry.

“Fate,” Shaylee’s voice is deceptively calm, not emotion whatsoever. “Where the hell have you been?”

My eyes return to the woman who is so often the bane of my existence. She’s moved within touching distance of Aodhagan and she shrugs as she circles him, running a finger around his chest, shoulder, back, and around to the front again. Each inch causes him to tense, tighter and tighter, and his face is filled with more rage than I ever thought possible. I’ve never seen skin that particular shade of eggplant.

“Fate.” Laila’s isn’t able to keep her tone as neutral as Shaylee, and beneath the growl, there is an undercurrent of steel.

She glances up and looks around at us all again, “Oh right.” She waves her hand carelessly, as though brushing us off, but as soon as she does, I feel life breathe back into my body. Her attention is on Aodhagan again as she steps up and gets right in his face. A sinister smile, the likes I’ve never seen on her, paints itself on her face. “I was meeting with Pedro.” Ah, yes, Fate’s special name for her go-between with God. I’m going to go ahead and guess that Peter isn’t real fond of the nickname. I wouldn’t know though, as I’ve never met him, we don’t really socialize with angels, fallen, or otherwise. Her nose wrinkles, “I had to get permission to—well,” She seems to think better of herself, “to do what is needed.” It sounds ominous to me and I wonder if she walking a line far more treacherous than the one I’ve been dancing on. She points a finger at Aodhagan, “You’ll be coming with me. We’re going to . . . have a chat.” Then she waves a hand and he is gone.

“I trust you all have enough power and energy to get home now. You were magnifico—” Her speech falters once again, “I assume. If I’d been here to see it, I’m sure I would be quite impressed.” Seriously? She better not have been—whatever, I’m too damn tired to dissect what I’m pretty sure she just implied, and too used to her shit to really care. All I want is to get home and lose myself in my girl.

“I’m off little ones.” Then she crosses her arms like
I Dream of Jeannie,
does the nod and wink thing, and disappears.
Such a showoff.
I have no idea what that woman did to land herself in a job she so obviously loathes, but I have no doubt that God was justified. He probably just wanted to find a place for her where he didn’t have to deal with her special blend of crazy.

Laila sighs and crawls off of my lap. I stand and help her up, then wave to the others, (Aden and Shaylee are already gone) and we take a step and cross.

THE SIZZLING POP OF
bacon wakes me, along with the growling in my stomach, and I open my eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. No, wait. Not unfamiliar exactly, just one I have only woken up to less than a handful of times. I stretch lazily and sigh when I feel how deliciously sore I am.

Memories of the night before flood my brain and my skin begins to tingle. We’d barely made it back to Ean’s apartment before erupting from our all-consuming desire. We almost christened the car again, then the elevator, then his foyer, but failed to make it to the bed. After we’d satiated some of our craving for each other, we dragged ourselves from the floor of the hallway to his bed.

Ean is every X-rated movie watching, romance novel reading, dirty minded woman’s fantasy. But then, our chemistry has never been the problem. I sigh, we should probably have done the talking before we got horizontal . . . and then vertical . . . and other angles . . .
Focus, you oversexed floozy!
I shake the dirty thoughts from my head (most of them) and get out of the bed to search out some clothes. Time to talk.

I look at my skirt and top haphazardly strewn across the floor and decide to root through Ean’s things. After pulling out a few dresser drawers, I finally come across boxer briefs and t-shirts. The boxers are a little big and I consider just wearing the t-shirt, until I remember, I don’t have any underwear with me. My apartment is just a couple doors away, but I don’t feel like making the effort, so I roll down the waistband of the boxers a couple of times and manage to get them to stay in place. I slip on his shirt as I walk down the hallway toward the kitchen. It’s so long on me that it comes all the way to my knees. But it’s comfy, and it’s Ean’s, so I love it.

I inhale the delicious smells coming from the kitchen and wander in to investigate. Ean is standing at the counter, scrambling eggs in a bowl, in pajama bottoms and no shirt. With each rotation of the whisk, his back muscles flex and, I swear, I melt. He must hear me come in because his head lifts and turns in my direction. A sunny smile lights his face and he drops the utensil, eyeing me up and down as he crosses the space to pull me into his arms. “Morning, baby.” He ravages my mouth with a bone-melting kiss, then trails his lips along my jaw until he reaches my ear. I feel a little sting when he nips the lobe and then soothes it with the tip of his tongue. “Damn, you are so fucking sexy.”

I almost look down to see if I’m officially melting into a puddle on the ground. He leans back and rubs his nose sweetly across mine before gently kissing each of my eyelids and my forehead. He steps back and ogles me again, the smile still firmly glued to his stunning face, his bright blue eyes twinkling. “I love you in my clothes, baby. I think you should stick with them from now on.” He winks at me before returning to his previous task. The tent is his silky lounge pants does not escape my notice, but it seems as though he is equally aware that getting caught up in our passion needs to wait until later.

Ean pours the egg mixture into a heated pan on the stainless, steel stove. He glances at me with another admiring look and waves me over to him. I pad across the kitchen and shiver at the cold, hardwood floors under my bare feet. When I reach his side, he grabs me around the waist and hoists me up onto the counter next to him, then steals a quick kiss before tossing veggies in the pan as well and mixing them into the eggs as they cook. The smell of bacon is still assaulting my nose and my stomach grumbles again, making Ean laugh. I shrug, looking around for something to snack on, then grin widely at Ean when he opens the oven, where the bacon is warming. He hand me a slice and takes one to munch on as well.