Hunted: A fae fantasy romance (Fae Magic Book 1) Read online

  “Never fear lass, I’ve brought ye something.” Rinnal pulled a delicate silver chain out of his pocket, a rough-cut stone suspended heavily on it. “Here, girl.” He stepped close to her and fastened it around her neck and brushed a whiskery kiss on her lips.

  “Hey!” Logan started forward.

  Rinnal winked at Trina. “Just taking my payment for the gift.”

  “What’s this?” Trina twirled the large stone from its chain. It was deep blue in the shadows, its depths sparkling with reflected early starlight.

  “Just a wee gift from me to you. Logan told us of the forest’s interest in you as a conduit. This should help.” Rinnal motioned her forward. “Go on, give it a try.”

  She eased out of the clearing and onto the forest floor. One foot. Then two. A thrumming vibrated her feet. The stone lit with a soft glow and warmed, spreading heat into her skin. The threat of the forest retreated, becoming nothing more than background noise on her senses.

  She smiled in relief. “Thank you.”

  “Of course, dearie.” Rinnal took her hand in his broad, rough one and led her down the path. “We don’t get very many pretty maids out our way. We need to make sure you’re protected from all the nasties.” Logan harrumphed behind her and Trina caught a sly, self-satisfied smile on Rinnal’s face. “The forest is more than woods, ye see lass? It has a mystery all on its own. Start down the wrong path and ye could end up lost, or worse.” His step was sure and confident, to all appearances, a man in his prime of life. If he’d been human, she would have guessed forties, but the way his words slipped in and out of the deep brogue, and the way he treated her, she suspected he was far older. “It’s a portal itself, ye see. A passageway to other.”

  “A portal? But we had no trouble getting to the cottage.”

  “Ye need to stick to the right paths, lass. Some are anchored here, near the cottage. Some twine ‘round through different places.” He held a branch out of her way and she caught a glimmer of light beyond that disappeared as soon as he looked at it. “Strange places, lass. Strange places.”

  He talked the entire trip, helping her across a stream, holding vines and branches out of the way. Logan’s glaring, silent presence brought up the rear until they reached their destination, a moonlit tumbled pile of rocks at the foot of a sparsely treed hill. At their approach, ravens spun overhead into the night, breaking the forest’s silence with their righteous cawing. All but one flew off. It settled onto an overhanging branch careful not to look them head on, observing them from one rolling eye.

  Rinnal dropped her hand. Trina moved closer to Logan and his uncle went to the shadowed cairn, placed his hands on the rocks, and whispered.

  A shiver rippled under her feet. She watched in amazement as the largest rocks inched apart revealing a dark hole.

  “If ye get separated, come back here and the bird there will send a message.”

  The raven eyed her with his lone eye and a chill ran over her skin. She looked away and pulled the necklace over her head. “Thanks so much for this.”

  Rinnal shook his head and waved her back. “Keep it, lass.”

  “I can’t. It’s too valuable.” Her throat choked up. “You don’t even know me.”

  “If ye get lost it will help ye in the tunnels. It’s a key to the doors, and a guide.” He leaned over and gave her a light kiss, the soft texture of his beard brushing her cheek. “T’will lead you home, lass.”

  “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  “Ye remind me of someone.” His gruff voice deepened and she saw an answering vulnerability deep in his gaze. “And it wouldn’t do for ye to be lost before ye’re found.” He enveloped her in a bear hug scented of cherry-vanilla tobacco. “Take care out in the world. It’s a scary place beyond our borders.”

  She wanted to stay there, sheltered in his warmth, but she broke free. “Scarier than the wolves and bears you were warning me about in the forest?”

  As kind as he’d been she had a mission tonight and heading back to the cottage with him, as safe as it would be, wouldn’t get her any closer to freedom, or her family to safety.

  He barked his amusement, baring sharp, white teeth in a sly smile. “Aye, lass, scarier than the beasties we have here.” He snorted. “I’ll have to tease Culann about that one. He’s a wolf shifter and thinks he’s tough.” His smile faded. “Take care, out there, lass. Humans are unpredictable, and the queen will reward them richly for your capture.” He squeezed her hand hard and let it go. “Now then, ye’d best be on your way.” He gave Logan a loud slap on the shoulder. “And you, boyo, you keep safe.”

  With a wink and a nod he turned, walking away, soon swallowed by the darkness of the trees.

  “I don’t understand.” Trina held the chain up, the blue stone twirling and sparkling in the moonlight. “He just met me.”

  Logan glanced up from his examination of the jagged hole.

  “My uncles have seen many losses over the years. Just because they don’t know you well, doesn’t mean they care to see you dead. Come, we have a long way to go.” He extended his arm and helped her over the rocks and into the dark, damp mouth of the tunnels.

  Inside, Logan took two lanterns from a shelf and flicked his hand to fill them with flame. She lifted hers high, the flickering light illuminating a smooth, wide path extending down into the gloom.

  She eyed the rough, dirt tunnel and Logan’s head nearly brushing the roof. “The ceiling isn’t very tall, you’re going to have trouble.”

  Logan hunched his shoulders, and moved into the tunnel. “I’ll manage.”

  She stayed close behind. Her small lantern cast shadows that crept down into the dark corners stretching into figures and shapes, that when she got close shrank down and disappeared. The chunk of sapphire swinging from her neck glowed with a soft blue light that grew bright chasing all the shadows away.

  Logan gave her a short, impatient wave and ducked to avoid a low hanging rock. “Tuck that away until we get there. We don’t want to attract attention.”

  She tucked the stone in the hollow of her cleavage. “What kind of attention?” Without the help of the stone the light from the lantern seemed to weaken, illuminating only a few feet into the darkness.

  “Any kind.”

  They passed a small side tunnel and the sapphire glowed stronger inside her top. Tiny hairs lifted on the back of her neck and her skin pimpled into goose bumps. She peered into the shadows, the way her back crawled told her they had something’s attention.

  She stretched her aura out attempting to establish her kinship with the earth. But the earth had a strange, heavy presence down here and she drew her connection back. This was not a human place. Someone else—something else—had carved these tunnels. She didn’t think even the elves themselves could be comfortable down here. Just look at the tense set of Logan’s shoulders and the way his hand wandered near the hilt of his sword.

  Trina stayed close on Logan’s heels, trying to think about anything but the tickle on her neck of someone watching her, or the solid weight of the earth pressing down over her head. Each breath felt close, as if the dark air itself threatened suffocation.

  “Where do the other tunnels go?” Her words sounded small and lost in the dark.

  “Different locations.” Logan’s voice was hushed too. “Some emerge in this realm, some in the next. Others lead to other worlds, different times. This isn’t like walking a road. Like the forest, the tunnels aren’t linear, they’re more like portals. They wind a path in and out of the spaces between.”

  He stopped short, turning to face her, the flickering shadows cutting deep, strange lines into his new face. “Don’t go off alone. You won’t know where you’re going or where you’ll end up. And it’s for sure you’ll not enjoy it.” He lifted his lantern high. “Look.”

  Swallowing down her nerves, Trina leaned cautiously over a hole she hadn’t even suspected was there. She could have fallen down. Easily.

  A cold breeze wafted up, sti
rring her hair. She rubbed her arms to ward off the chill.

  The hole was deep. So deep, the thin lantern light faded long before it reached the bottom. Logan kicked a pebble in and they froze, listening. It was a long time before she heard the quiet plink of it hitting bottom.

  She went weak and pulled back from the sudden drop.

  “There are many secrets, many traps in here for the unwary or the unwelcome. It’s a tremendous gift Rinnal has given you, the knowledge of how the last of the Fir Bolg have survived and escaped their nemisis.” His voice was harsh. “Be sure you don’t abuse it.”

  He started off again and she followed, closer than before.

  “Why would he trust me? How can he be sure I won’t use this information to bargain with the queen for my life? My people’s lives?”

  “Once you have endured the annihilation of your race, you never forget. For my uncle—you are the enemy of his enemy.”

  Logan was as much Fir Bolg as Tuatha De Danann. Was he torn between his two halves? Who was his enemy?

  The tunnel dead ended at a rock-fall. There was no way out. The low ceiling and narrow walls pressed down on Trina. Could this be it? Could this man she’d chosen to trust have led her her to die?

  Logan whispered to the stones and they groaned open, fresh air and the smell of green earth washed over Trina. She climbed out into a starry, moonlit night and took in a relieving breath of fresh air along.

  “Are you ready to face your people?” Logan didn’t wait for her answer as he strode away from the rocks to a large drainage pipe and ducked inside.

  Was she ready? No. But since when had that ever mattered? She crossed to the pipe and followed him, back into the dark.

  LOGAN LEANED OVER AND put his hands on Trina’s waist, letting them linger there long after he’d helped her out of the drainage pipe into a shadowy copse of trees. Taking a moment before she pulled away, he admired her breasts pushed up by her corset, the soft curves heaving up and down as she gasped for air.

  “This thing is too tight.” She pulled the sapphire out. It had gone quiet and it gleamed in the moonlight, for all intents and purposes just a lovely stone.

  He eyed his work and decided he’d done a fair job. “It could be a little tighter.” He still had the knack of lacing up a woman. Some things you never forgot. “That sapphire catches the moonlight with every breath you take. Too bad it stopped glowing. I think it enhanced your assets.” It was a good thing the witch couldn’t shoot him with her eyes.

  “I’m relieved.” She gave another nervous pull to the bustier, but it didn’t budge. “I’m worried enough someone will recognize me, without glowing gems making me stand out like a neon hooker.”

  He swallowed at the thought of all those male eyes pulled by the sapphire to Trina’s breasts.

  “Here, tuck that back inside where no one will see it. I don’t want someone following you for your jewels.” He reached over and pushed the sapphire deep into the bustier, ignoring her indrawn breath and clamping down on his cock’s response. “And while we’re at it, hold still and I’ll strengthen the glamour before we go in. I’m not sure how thorough their security will be.”

  A quick pass of his magic touched her image up. She didn’t look like Trina, didn’t smell like Trina. She looked like a woman out for a good time. He frowned.

  In the cottage, he hadn’t thought about how increasing her full pout and adding a slant to her eyes upped her sexuality. Now, he had second thoughts.

  “Is that it down there?” Trina pointed at the lights in the distance. She stepped onto the paved road leading from the curving foothills down to the edge of the city.

  “Yes. Angus came here earlier today and scoped it out. Funny location for a get together.” He caught up to her and moved into the lead down the hillside and through the brushy trees, the lights getting closer and brighter as they approached the parking lot. “Why would your people choose a dog track outside Denver?”

  “It’s vacant and cheap to rent. Besides, the Boyd’s like Denver and host tribe gets to pick the location. Weather in September is usually good too.”

  “I thought you’d never been to a meet.”

  “I haven’t, but Aunt Theresa talked about them all the time.” Trina kicked a rock off to the side. “She missed it all when we were on the run. The fun, the politics, the dancing.”

  Campfire smoke drifted on the breeze, carrying the noise of a thousand-plus partying people. Earthy rhythms of the drums, doumbaks, and bodhrans, mixed with different pipes, flutes, harps, and rock-and-roll.

  Trina’s hips swayed, her shoulders undulating with each step closer to the camp. “It’s forever since I danced.”

  Her laugh sparkled and his stomach clenched.

  His beautiful witch glowed for the music, her people, and the party—but not him. He wanted to snatch her away from the meet, take her back to the fields, and ravish her in the grass. Make sure she had no one else but him in her focus. But he’d agreed to the plan, he had to let her take her open sexuality and troll the fair like a common harlot, no matter how much he wished otherwise. He watched her dance down the road, his brain spinning as he confronted his sudden rush of jealousy.

  If they continued down this path Trina would be out of his sight and out of his control, loose among a camp full of drunken, reveling men. He hadn’t fully realized the risk he ran of losing her to something other than the queen. It burned him hollow inside.

  Trina glanced back over her shoulder, her face lit like a flame. “Come on Logan. The party is on!”

  He broke, took three long strides, and grabbed her arm.

  “Ow!”

  One-by-one he forced his fingers to relax, but he didn’t let go. “Don’t get distracted, my witch.” He ground out his words through a tight throat. “We have a job to do tonight.”

  “Don’t think for a minute I’ve forgotten why we’re here.” She lifted her chin and tossed her newly lightened locks. “It’s for my family, my tribe, and my life. My tribe is almost gone. If we don’t find out the queen’s plans, these tribes may well be next. I know I have a mission tonight, but this might be the last time I can enjoy myself with my people for a long time. Maybe forever.” The flame in her eyes sparked higher. “Don’t tell me not to steal a few moments of fun. I’m well aware of what I’m doing and that I wouldn’t be here, wouldn’t be doing this, if it weren’t for your kind.”

  Before he could respond, she tore away from him and into the first circle of RV’s and motorcycles. The jealous beast inside urged him to go after her, stop her, make her listen. But he gritted his teeth, and stayed put, shaking from the tension shooting up his spine and down his tendons as her sexy black boots and curvy ass disappeared into the crowd.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was several long minutes before Logan trusted himself to move. Wreaking destruction on the meet would serve nobody’s purpose. He released air in slow calculated breaths as he avoided the sentries and stalked around the perimeter looking for another entrance.

  What was it about Trina that loosened his control? Caused him to forget lessons hard earned? He had nothing to fret about. If she stuck to the plan, she was headed for the Boyd’s leader. She wouldn’t go to the fires, wouldn’t flirt with men in exchange for information.

  A sudden, vivid image of her sparkling like the moon at some other man freed the beast and his tension roared back to life. Thunder growled low in the distance, reminding him his powers would stand out like a spotlight if he didn’t get his emotions battened down.

  When he’d calmed, he slid in between two rusty RV’s and entered at the edge of camp, working his way into the heart of the gathering and wondering—what power could tiny woman have over him? And how had he gotten ensnared?

  The scent of frying food, and too much beer, liquor and sweat, pressed in on him like the heavy air before a hurricane. He rubbed his forehead and tried to ease the pressure.

  His imprisonment had left him ill-equipped to be in a crowd this de
nse. He’d forgotten what it was like to move through the oppression of humanity. Every step into the crush made his next breath seem heavier than the last. Moisture beaded on his forehead and he began to pant as he grappled with his panic.

  Stepping behind a food vendor’s tent gave him enough space to firm his aura into an invisible shield held out from his body. The noise and pressure retreated and he could breathe easier as the crowd walked large, whispering semi-circles around him, the freak show.

  “Are you a real elf?” A barely twenty-something girl in a low-cut shirt swayed close, teetering on a pair of skinny high heels. He ignored the slur and put out a reflexive hand. She caught his arm, pitching towards him her body tilting towards horizontal. She blinked overly made-up eyes too close to his face and exhaled eau de lite beer.

  Logan ramped up his aura and held his breath.

  “Hey Jenny, leave him alone.” Large, tattooed biceps barely covered by a torn muscle shirt pulled her off.

  A dark-haired youth stepped in front of the pair. “Are you an elf?”

  “Nah, he can’t be, he’s too short!” another girl said. “My Granny knows Lord Talan and he’s much taller than him. Skinnier, too.” The group crowded around him, their auras pressing against his while they argued his heritage.

  His heartbeat quickened, lightning cracked overhead. But his shield held. He exhaled. He could do this. He was capable of walking among the drunken horde without losing control.

  “Hey come party with us.” Jenny slurred and stumbled. “Rafe, he should party with us.”

  Rafe shored her up, took a long pull from his beer, and eyed Logan. He shrugged. “Sure man. What the hell.”