Three Days of Dominance (15 page)

He grabbed her, slid her bottom back against him again, and held her tight. “I’m sorry. I wish I could take you.”

“It’s…okay. I get it. I only have half the facts. I accept that.”
And I’m sorry that you don’t feel the same way, I do. I am really sorry about that. But there’s nothing I can do about it. Nothing
. Plainly, she should just make do. Had she fallen in love with him? Surely not? But it was close, so close she didn’t quite know which way was up, or what to do if he spoke to her about her reasons.

She wriggled until he relaxed, took one of his hands between her own, bringing it to her lap and lifting each finger one by one as she thought. He was going to return, without her, to another world. The whole concept was as indigestible and as hard to get her mind around as a chunk of physics. Did she really believe in all this? No matter how many times she’d decided exactly that, she half expected to wake up and find it had all been a dream.

These fingers in her lap were real. Thank heavens.

Truth be told, she also didn’t understand the science behind computers or the Web or why the sun and the moon did what they did. Start with one fact and take the rest as gospel. Heketoro was real. So the rest must be too. Damn. Einstein had nothing on her.

She kissed his arm. “Tomorrow, we’ll perform this ritual, and I won’t set a foot wrong.”

“Good. Let me tell you what will happen.” His breath warmed her hair.

“The ritual must take place on the island at the center of the lake, and we must be naked.”

“Oh…though I guess that makes complete sense.”

“First of all you must cover my body with kisses, and then I”—he nipped at her neck—“must do the same to you. Then I get to tie you to a tree, in a very exact way, and we must make love in a very precise way.”

“Hmph. You make it sound all rather clinical and dry.”

She felt him muffle his laughter against the nape of her neck.

“Stop that, it tickles!”

“The one thing you will not be is dry. I promise you that.”

She grinned and thought back on what he’d said and, strangely, found herself shivering with anticipation.

“Do not forget Aroha. I fear what she might do. She may conceal herself in some way with glamour, so I can’t say how she will appear to you. You must not let any woman you don’t know into your house.” These last words struck a sinister chord within her.

She nodded. “Of course. You already said this.” It was a simple enough thing. Why was he so insistent? “So, you really need permission before you can go into a house?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I hereby grant you permission to enter my house anytime you like.”

“I’m honored,” he said. “Truly.”

She laid her head back against him, and they sat together for a long while before she ventured to ask what had been puzzling her.

“Heketoro, why does the frog sitting there seem as if he’s been drawn around with green fluoro crayon?”

“That and the tattoo are the first changes coming upon you. Having sex with me has triggered this, and from now on, sex will bleed some of the power into your flesh. You will see in the dark, far better than any human. Come to the water.” He moved, drawing his legs up and standing, then beckoning her to the edge of the creek.

A small area of the water shone as silver as a mirror, and she saw her face reflected there. Intermittently, strands of her loosened hair flamed red, then faded away. A thin, dark snake curled down her brow with a new flamboyant twist and curve at the bottom. It had almost reached past the corner of her eye. “This”—he fingered one of the red strands—“tells me what you are. You are related to the fire fae. A greater fae is one of your ancestors. Fire, water, wind and earth—the four greater fae. I had wondered which of the four you would be. Not a paler fae, one of the lesser, as you would have shown no tattoo.”

She blinked.
Oh my
. “And you are water?”

“Yes. It explains why you are so clumsy in the water. And other things. Water overcomes fire.” He smiled. “And this”—he touched the tattoo on her forehead—“says you are mine.”

The possessive words startled her. Yet still they thrilled her. Two days ago, she would have laughed at and maybe slapped a man who said that. But now…ah, it set her alight. If only she could leave with him.

“And I am yours.” He kissed her neck.

The excitement from his words faded, and bitterness took its place. It seemed pointless to say they belonged to each other. Why? Why say that at all, if he meant to leave without her? A fragment of hope kindled, twining with the bitterness. Perhaps he might return? Would that be enough for her? She doubted it, but still, it might be better than to never see him again.

“Are you able to come back here?” She held her breath while she waited for his answer.

“No. At least, I doubt it. Enormous power is needed to open portals. Which only makes me wish even more that you could come with me.”

She murmured something indistinct.
Methinks he dost protest too much
. Where had that come from? Shakespeare? Probably. There was a quote for every situation hidden in his plays, or so she’d heard, not being precisely an expert herself. There seemed no point in whining about it. Nothing would change. He’d decided, and it wasn’t as if she could book another form of transport.
Bus, train, or fae. Yeah, right
. At least now she’d not have to ask if she needed to pack a toothbrush or a change of clothes. They probably didn’t even have plumbing.

“Danii?” He traced the lower line of her neck with his finger, stirring her skin to goose bumps, then resting his hand on the same line as if to emphasize the importance of his next words.

“There’s something I want you to promise me. No matter how this turns out. Whether I live or die, I want you to promise you won’t abuse yourself as you have in the past. No more forcing alcohol into yourself to distance yourself from the sad things. That is why you do it?”

“I—” Why should she have to explain this to him? If he was leaving her, he didn’t care really, not enough anyway.

He sighed. “If you won’t admit why, at least promise. You’re a smart woman. You should take what life hands to you and try your best to enjoy it, no matter what. You shouldn’t need to resort to such methods.”

Huh. As if the method mattered. She’d find a way. She had to, it was her way of staying sane. Maybe he didn’t get that. And it sounded like whatever trick he’d played to make her scotch taste awful was going to wear off.

He jiggled her shoulder. “Danii?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Though she whispered, her voice caught. “Sometimes I see so much awfulness in people’s faces, and I’ve not even spoken to them. Sometimes it’s like I’m at the center of a dirty world, clogged up in every pore and orifice with more dirt—stinking, heaving dirt. I can’t get free of it, and I know I never will, because I’m just another piece of that same filth.” She put her head back to bump against him and nestle between his shoulder and chin.

“Oh, dear heart.” The harshness in his tone, as if it tore him inside to say the words, both horrified her, to think she’d hurt him, and rang a note of joy that she’d touched him in some way. He did care. “You’re not dirt. Never think that. I think perhaps you’re just too fragile for what you do.”

“Too fragile.” She laughed bitterly. “But what I do is part of me.” She couldn’t conceive of not being a cop. At least, not here, in the real world. And Heketoro’s world would never be real to her, unless she somehow miraculously found herself there. It was an irrelevance that only existed while Heketoro existed. Once he was gone, she wouldn’t believe. How could she? He’d become another of her dreams. And a promise to him would then mean nothing.

So she said it. “I promise. There. I promise I won’t drink too much.” She said it as clearly as she could, not wanting him doubting her. Even if she knew it was a false promise. She had to cope somehow, and if he wasn’t here, he wouldn’t ever know.

He squeezed her shoulder but said nothing.

She put her fist to her mouth, rested her lips atop it, and stood there trying to decide where she wanted to go, what she wanted to do. Even why she’d abruptly asked Heketoro if she could return with him. She hadn’t thought that through at all, and impulsiveness was so not what she was about. Logic was the backbone of everything she did. Or it had been, until now.

If she could somehow go with him, there’d be no more need to pull on her uniform every day and go out on the streets to keep the average schmuck safe from the idiots, the evil, and the mad. Imagine that. Just thinking of work made her muscles tense. She’d be in an utterly strange land, and until she worked out which way was up or down, she’d be the one needing protection. Yet…the notion of needing Heketoro to protect her was curiously pleasing.

Ack! Who was she fooling? Though there were some people in this world she would regret leaving behind, her parents and her brother were dead, and her sister might as well be living on the moon. If she lost Heketoro, she would be devastated.

He’d declared his world too dangerous for her. He knew her weaknesses, had said he’d watched her for years. She was going at this the wrong way. She didn’t want to give him up, and like he said, she could be strong. It was her weakness holding her back. She mustn’t let that be the thing defining her. To change Heketoro’s mind, she must only show her strengths. That must be her aim—to convince him of her strength. She only had one day to accomplish this. Impossible seemed too mild a word to use.

The water sparkled with the reflections of the red embers in her hair.

She stayed there, entranced, staring down at the strange woman in the water until at last she felt Heketoro’s hands leave her shoulders, and he spoke the quietest of words as if from a distance.

“I must go.”

* * *

Though Heketoro no longer held her, his hands remembered the soft feel of Danii’s flesh. He longed to embrace her just a few seconds longer, to smell the fresh scent of her hair. Unaware of his struggle, she remained mesmerized by her reflection. But the curse dragged at him, calling to him. As if turning into stone, his limbs refused to move toward her, and he took another shuddering step back. The glamour melted over his body like a shroud of cool mist.

He doubted the sincerity of the promise she’d just made. He’d been tempted to challenge her on it, but there was little he could do to reinforce his wish. Then he’d realized the best solution would be to wait until after the ritual. If they succeeded, the toah would be fully charged and he could use the excess magic to craft a more useful change in Danii—something that might allow her to distance herself temporarily from the painful things in her life. It was a poor and artificial solution perhaps, but the best he could do. The very empathy for others’ problems that gave her the insight to do her job effectively was wearing down her soul.

If only he was certain magic would work effectively. If her empathy linked to her fae ancestry, something that was more than possible, his chance of success dropped a great deal. To a fae with empathy, humans were like panes of glass—their emotions on display and raw. In which case, the best answer would be for her to not be a law enforcement officer, but he felt sure she wouldn’t change occupation on his insistence.

If she came back to Rarohenga, her problem would be gone and they could be together
. How that temptation ate at him. He mustn’t give in to it.
This
was her world, not Rarohenga. He wouldn’t cast her into the unknown dangers of his world to save her from a known one here. She was resilient and intelligent. She’d coped without him for her whole life and would surely manage without him again.

There was another, more immediate problem, in any case.

Would she even remember to come to the island?

The curse grew stronger with each day. It tugged at memories, twisting them, fading them until by the third day the memories of ordinary humans were blown away like butterflies in a hurricane. For the first time, the implacable nature of the curse dismayed him. The fault of Emana Tatu, she’d crafted it—her way of stopping him from returning.

There was no point in telling Danii—it would have added to her worries, and if it affected her, she would forget he had told her.

He could only trust her faerie blood would help her resist the loss of her memories.

Chapter Ten

In the mirror-water before her, Heketoro’s reflection thinned and vanished. Danii spun around, but he was gone.

The curse, or some other magic? She had no idea. Tomorrow would be the last day. Reality settled on her like a heavy cloak. She glanced at her watch. Late. The shops would be closed, and besides, she needed to shower. A can of soup would have to be dinner.

Walking back along the section of boardwalk at that time of night was generally very safe. The crime rate in the area so low that if she wanted to have an uneventful shift, she finagled a patrol out this way. It was partly why the neighborhood was so attractive to her and why she’d been thrilled when her house had come up for sale all those years ago.

Which made it all the more surprising when a man stepped onto the boardwalk five yards ahead and held his arms out wide in a way that immediately told her he didn’t mean to let her pass. Six feet two. Caucasian—so pale, he looked like he’d lived in a cave. Crew cut. Wide as a door and, hell, big. Some sort of long weapon, perhaps a sword, perhaps a baton, hung from his belt. Thick shrubs and young, low-branching trees to either side made the path her only means of escape. Sounds behind her told her another—probably only one person—was blocking the other end of the boardwalk. She needed to do the unexpected. You didn’t stop and give muggers time to get comfortable. Jan and Frank Tissot’s house was only twenty yards straight ahead, and they were nearly always home on Saturday evenings.

The loud music and laughter from David and Trina’s barbecue would block some noise but—

Screaming at the top of her lungs, she ran at the man in front, then took a breath. Exhaling, she bounded into the air, launching into a flying kick at his chest.