Unthinkable (25 page)

_{For a few seconds}
Walker held Fenella off, so that her
mouth could only barely brush his. “You’re even crazier than
I realized,” he said. But then Fenella captured his mouth
fully. Long moments later when she let it go, he whispered
her name, sounding as tender and desperate and wounded
as she felt.

She leaned in again. She bit his mouth, oh so gently.
His hand on her shoulder, which had started out by trying to push her away, went still as she kissed him and felt
his response. His entire arm came around her waist, pulling her tightly into his chest. Triumph surged in her. She
leaned to take his mouth again and this time he met her
halfway.
She squirmed closer.
At last Walker freed his mouth from Fenella’s. He was

panting. “You need to be on medication. You’re dangerous
to others and to yourself.”
“Don’t think,” Fenella said. “Kiss me.” She closed her
eyes. She turned her face blindly, seeking his mouth, and
found it.
But too soon Walker withdrew his mouth again. Fenella
laid her head on his shoulder and murmured, “Isn’t there
somewhere we can go to be truly private? Just for a while?
It’s night—is anyone at the vet clinic?”
“A few animals that are being boarded . . . No! I’m not
going there with you, Fenella. Or anywhere. What if my
supervisor saw us? Wait, no, that’s not why. It’s because it’s
wrong. It’s because—”
“It wouldn’t be for long. Just this once. This is the only
chance we’ll ever, ever have, don’t you see that?”
Walker turned his face away. His breathing was ragged in
her ear. His chest fell and rose beneath her. “I said no.”
“Afterward, I’d go anywhere you said. To my family. To
the police. I promise I would.”
She could feel him shaking his head. “Your promise is
worthless, beloved. You’re Lifetime movie material. Some
actress could win an award playing you.”
Beloved.
“You can tie me up while we’re there,” Fenella offered.
“To make sure I won’t escape.”
“Or to make sure that you don’t try to kill me.” Bitterness had leaked again into his voice, and she knew he was
remembering Leo.
“I wouldn’t hurt you.” She blew gently at a spot on his
neck where his thick, dark hair fell away from the skin. She
longed for the use of her hands so that she could cup his
face with them, but he was still holding her wrists. “It truly
was an accident with Leo.”
“Yeah, right. Because you were after the dog.”
“No, I—there’s no sense my trying to explain. Let’s forget
it all for a little while. Just a few hours alone. Even one. One
would do.”
“I said no, Fenella. I won’t be manipulated. I’m not that guy.”
She heard his words, but his body was telling her something else. She waited, and he added, “You’re so convincing. I
almost believe that you want me the way I want you.”
Fenella moved against him gently as she whispered into
his ear. “I don’t want you the way you want me. I want you
more than you want me.”
Beneath her, he returned her movement. “Liar.”
Fenella brushed his lips. “How long has it been for you?”
His breath mingled with hers. “None of your business.”
“Who was it with? A girlfriend?”
“I’m not telling you anything. I won’t give you anything
else belonging to me.”
They were nose to nose in the dimness.
“Not even her first name?”
“Nothing.”
“Did you love her?” Fenella persisted.
“No.”
“No, you didn’t love her?”
“No, I won’t tell you whether I did or not.”
Fenella squirmed. “Let my hands go, I want to touch you.”
Walker’s grip tightened on her wrists. “No. I don’t want
you to touch me.”
“Always no with you.” Fenella rocked against him. “No.”
She moved again. “No.”
Sweat had long since broken out on Walker’s forehead. A
drop worked its slow way down along his temple. She licked
it, tasting the acidity of his skin. He made a small noise that
might have meant anything in the world, except for no.
“Okay, so I didn’t love her.” His voice was lower than low,
and quite desperate. “My last girlfriend. I liked her, though.
I’m liking her better and better by the minute. See, she was
sane.” As he spoke, his hips moved again, strong, a pulsing
counterpoint to hers, and then they were moving together.
But in the next second, Fenella went still. Then so did
Walker. His eyes cut to hers.
She said, “If you really want me to slide off you, I will.
That’s not what I want to do. I want us to finish what we’ve
started. But if you tell me to, I’ll stop. You can take me to my
family and then to the police or whatever it is you want to
do. Now or later.”
Another drop of sweat trickled down the side of Walker’s
face. Again, Fenella leaned in and followed its path with her
mouth.
“Shall I stop? Should we go now?” She moved her hips
again. “Or should we do this first?”
“This is insane,” Walker muttered. “We’re in a public place.”
Fenella kept her eyes fixed on his. “The trees are protecting us,” she murmured, and knew in that instant that it was
true, even though these trees were not fey.
“I’m not insane.” Walker’s voice strengthened. “I won’t be
insane. I know better.”
Fenella knew a long, terrible moment of dread and despair. So, she was to have nothing then, not even a few stolen
moments beneath the trees with a man who had called her
beloved. Slowly, reluctantly, she began to shift away.
Instantly, Walker’s arm tightened full around her to keep
her close to him, even though his hand in between their
bodies kept its grip on her wrists.
“No,” he said. “No! All right. Don’t go. Stay. Stay—right—
there. Keep doing what you were doing.”
Fenella gave him one, two, three seconds to change his
mind.
Then she leaned forward. “I will,” said Fenella. “I absolutely will.” This time when their lips met, his desperation
entwined with hers.
It would do. This would do. It would have to, because
this moment on Walker’s lap, fully clothed, on a park bench
shielded by trees, was all she was going to get. This time,
this deed, and the single word beloved. It was more than
Fenella had dared dream of receiving.
Even though Walker would believe nothing she said,
she would give him a gift as well. She would give the gift of
truth.
She whispered, “Listen to me. I haven’t been with a man
that I chose for nearly four hundred years. Until tonight.”
Walker laughed. He kissed Fenella’s neck, small nips that
stopped short of bites. “It’s been a year for me. It only feels
like four hundred.”
Then he stilled. “What do you mean, a man you chose?”
He yanked his head back. “What are you saying, Fenella?
Were you raped?” His gaze searched her face in the dim
light from the streetlamps. “Four hundred years? That’s
crazy talk again. But rape—Fenella—we have to stop, right
now, and—”
“Never mind,” she said hastily. “I just meant that I choose
you and I choose this. I want you. I want you so much.”
“Me too,” said Walker indistinctly. “Although I need to
point out that we’re also choosing possible arrest for public
indecency. Not to mention—”
“Quiet.” Fenella kissed him. Then, for a blessed time
in the night, there were no words and no thoughts, only
Fenella and Walker, alone enough.

number of minutes later, a scream from a cat brought them
crashing down to earth. Walker reacted immediately, bucking Fenella off his lap fast and hard. She fell onto the ground
on her hip. He stood, looking around warily.

The cat screeched again. A minute later, two women, one
elderly and holding on to the other’s arm, passed under the
streetlamp beyond the sheltering trees, but they did not
even so much as glance within the bower.

As the women’s footfalls died away, the catcall came again.
Now it was louder, closer. Ryland, Fenella thought. She
supposed he was being as tactful as possible under the circumstances.

The noises of the suburban night penetrated her aware

ness. A car door slammed. An automatic lock chirped. She
heard the croaks and whistles of grackles in a tree overhead,
and a murmur of voices accompanied by a drift of music as
people exited a nearby restaurant.

Fenella realized the sounds of others had been present
all along.
From her position on the ground, she smoothed her
skirt, crossed her legs, and leaned back on her hands philosophically. It was too dark to see anything but Walker’s outline, and since he had turned his back on her, she had to try
to read his emotions by the set of his shoulders.
He mumbled something.
“What is it?” At the last second she kept back the word
beloved, but only just, and the sweet, sure shape of it seemed
to linger in her mouth.
“That wasn’t real,” Walker said, and swung around.
Fenella sat up. “What?”
His face was completely in shadow. “That wasn’t real.
Whatever that was—it doesn’t matter. It wasn’t for real.”
It was like the moment when Fenella had felt the queen’s
sharp, serrated knife enter her body. For whole seconds
there was no pain, and then the next, there was nothing but.
“Not real?” She scrambled awkwardly to her feet. “We
both participated! You said yes, so did I! That’s real enough
for me.”
“Stop shouting! Okay, it was real, in the sense of not
imaginary, but still it doesn’t count.”
“Who’s the liar now?”
Walker took a step away. A second later, Fenella felt the
cool caress of the cat’s fur. Ryland wound himself around
her ankles, his long beautiful tail lingering the longest. You
yell like a fishwife, he said.
Fenella ignored him.
“You seduced me,” Walker said, in a cool, measured tone.
“You’re responsible.”
Fenella took a step back too, and put her hands on her
hips. “You were willing. Don’t claim you didn’t enjoy it, because it was evident to me that you did.” When he shook his
head, she added bitterly, “Listen. You had a very good time.
I’m not inexperienced even if you are, so don’t think you
can deny anything.”
Ryland’s claws dug sharply into Fenella’s ankle, and she
yelped.
Stop right there, my friend, Ryland said. The wise woman
does not mock her lover for lack of experience.
“I wasn’t mocking, Ryland, you idiot!” Fenella yelled.
“Anyway, what do you care what I say to Walker? You don’t
even like him!”
The cat’s almond-shaped eyes shone in the dimness like
a beacon from a strange land. She squatted down in the dirt
to glare directly into them. “Also, do you think I don’t know
what a woman is and isn’t supposed to say to any male about
his lovemaking? Do you think I don’t know what a male
creature wants to hear? Do you think I wasn’t well trained?
When I want your advice, I’ll ask for it! Otherwise, nobody
tells me what to say or what to do! Not you, not anyone!
Never again! Do you hear me? Never!”
The cat’s ears flattened. Fenella, he said quietly, it’s all
right. Calm down. Please. I’m here to help you, remember?
Fenella pressed the heel of one hand to each eye in turn.
Eventually she was able to straighten.
Walker was staring at her. Even in the dark, she could feel
the intensity of it.
“I’m sorry about that outburst,” Fenella said. “Chalk it
up to my craziness. I talk to cats! My own cat, anyway. You
know why? It’s because he talks to me first. I hear him in
my insane little head. He was lecturing me now. About
men.”
Walker said carefully, “And what did your cat say about
men?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
Fenella repeated it.
Walker took it in. “Now tell me again what you said to
your cat?”
“You heard me the first time. That I wasn’t mocking you.”
“But you also said—”
“Forget what else I said.”
“But it was—there was something about being ‘well
trained’? What did that mean?”
“Oh, who knows what insane things I might say?”
Walker shoved his hands down into his pockets. “I
want to take back what I said before. You were right. It
was real. And I wanted it too. Wanted you. I was just trying to say that it was—” He squared his shoulders. “. . . a
m ist a ke.”
Fenella stood up again, like a soldier. She lifted her chin.
“For me,” she said, “it wasn’t.” For there was no longer
any point in such trifles as the preservation of pride or the
pretense of indifference.
Walker paused, but only for a moment. “I’m sorry. I don’t
know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything at all.”
Silence.
Then Walker said grimly, “Not possible. You told me
you’d go with me to tell your family the truth. I’m going to
insist on it.”
Don’t go. Run away! I’ll help you run! I’ll hide you in
Faerie! The cat sounded panicked.
“All right,” said Fenella calmly to Walker.
No! Don’t you see how that would be fatal?
Fenella looked down into the cat’s upturned face. “No. I
think—this feels like the right thing to do.”
But the third task—
“If you don’t shut up, I will put you in a sack and do my
level best to drown you. That’s a promise.”
Ryland shut up.
Fenella sighed. She knelt by the cat. “All right. Sorry. I know
you mean to help me. But you also know this is my decision,
not yours.” She held out her arms. Haughtily, the cat leaped
into them. She straightened and turned to Walker.
“Take me to my family. I’ll tell them you lied to protect
me.”
Walker nodded. “Then the police.” His face was implacable.
“I’ll tell the truth to anyone I need to.”
They ducked beneath the trees and emerged next to the
parking lot.
Refusing to turn and look back at the little shelter of
trees—even though she wanted to—Fenella followed Walker
to his truck, which once had delighted her so much. She did
not glance at the front of it, lest there be damage. He courteously opened the passenger door for her; he even held
Ryland while she climbed in, and then handed her the cat.
He avoided even brushing her fingers with his own.