Hunted: A fae fantasy romance (Fae Magic Book 1) Page 23

  “All right. Have it your way.” He opened the little door in the cage. Trina kept silent, aware that Solanum’s magic kept her hidden.

  “Are ye plannin’ on keepin’ me in there?” The little face grew taut and anxious. “I’ll shrivel up into nothin’ away from me swamp.”

  “It is your choice. All I’m asking for is some information and then I’ll let you go.”

  “What do you want to know? Not me name, that’s too much!”

  “I’m looking for some information on the whereabouts of a Tuathan named Aoife.”

  “What makes ye think I know her?” hedged the gnome.

  “I’ve no time for games.” Logan reached for the gnome.

  The gnome leaned back, his eyes rolling with panic as he was squeezed between the sharp teeth of the hounds and Logan’s large hands.

  “No! No! I do know her, I do! I’ll tell ye!” The fae’s face blanched. “She was here years ago. Used to come through here all the time until the queen and she got inter some kinda fight. Then she stopped comin’ through the ring.”

  “Good. That’s a start.”

  The gnome looked at the golden cage that swung from Logan’s gloved hand. He swallowed. “I heared a rumor she’s gone ta ground.” He nodded for emphasis. “She’s now what you call a...” he slowed down and spoke the word carefully, “Rree-ti-ree.”

  “Really? She’s retired?” Logan’s eyebrows rose and his stern look slipped. “Who did you hear this from?”

  “T’was in the air.”

  “I need more than that. I need to know where I can find her.”

  “Bluebell will know. She who lives in the dell on t’other side of the swamp. She were there.”

  Logan’s face darkened. He seemed to grow in size as he loomed over the tiny fae. “Tell no one I was here, and I shall have no reason to trouble you over this matter again.”

  The gnome nodded his head up and down, his hat slipping over his eyes.

  Logan shrank the little golden cage and tucked it away. “Thank you for your services. Good sir, I release you.”

  The hounds spread apart and a small gap appeared. The gnome scuttled through, fleeing the hounds and the hillock, looking back once to glare once before splashing into the swampy water and swimming to another high tuft of grass.

  “No thanks to ye, Huntsman!” he shouted over his shoulder, waved a clenched fist, and disappeared into the grass.

  Trina opened her mouth, but Logan shook his head. Frustrated, she scooted back and Logan climbed on in front. They rode through the oppressive heat, out of the swamp, and up a large hill. The sun had burned the fog and sweat trickled down Trina’s back, gluing her shirt to her spine.

  At the top of the rise, the land dipped into a grassy round filled with flowers and buzzing bees. The hounds ringed the dell, forming a fence. Logan dismounted. A bee flew into Trina’s face. She lifted her hand to brush it away, but Logan gripped her wrist and shook his head. She peered closer. Buzzing an inch in front of her nose was a tiny woman in a gauzy, blue dress with clear, fragile wings.

  She reached for the faery, the first she’d ever seen outside of a book but it flew back into the crowd. Logan stepped into the center of the dell, and politely began his questioning. She couldn’t make words out of the buzzing, but he cocked his head to one side, seeming to have a very detailed conversation. Solanum held his tongue and his tail, and Trina held still as multiple, tiny fae flew into her face, tickling her ears with their tiny wings and buzzing lightly under her chin.

  Logan spoke with one small, buzzing object for a longer space of time before backing out of the dell and remounting Solanum for the ride back into the swamp and through the stones.

  Back in the world of grass, Trina’s head spun and she choked back bile.

  “Come on, get down.” Logan pulled her off Solanum, and she leaned against him, struggling to get words out past her clenched teeth.

  “Tell me.”

  “Sit down first.” He pushed her onto a rock buried in the grass. Solanum snorted down at her.

  “Come over here so I can barf on you again,” she said. He backed away.

  “Put your head between your knees and breathe.” Logan stroked her shoulder as she gulped huge breaths of the fresh air.

  “Talk.” She put her head down on her arms and he rubbed circles on her back.

  “It took a while, but I found Bluebell.” His soothing touch and the fresh air began to work. “The tiny fae are tough to get any information from...brains no bigger than walnuts. Once she figured out what I wanted to know, she wouldn’t stop talking. She visits Aoife quite often at her estate. Apparently, Aoife holds her own court of the lesser fae there.” He shook his head. “So much for being retired.”

  “We should go there next.” She stood, and the world swam in and out of focus.

  “Easy, lass. You need to rest.”

  “Fine.” Trina sank back down onto the rock. “But afterwards, we’ll go see her.”

  Logan frowned. “Her estate is in a part of Underhill under the protection of Oberon, King of the Gold Court and enemy of the Black Queen. I might go myself, but I’m damned if I’ll bring you into his court.”

  “Have you been there before?”

  “Yes, but the king never liked me, and that was before I was Huntsman. He’ll think I’m there for the queen and will kill me on sight.”

  “We’re so close.” She rose to her feet, her fists clenched at her sides. “You have no right to stop me from going.”

  “It has nothing to do with rights. It has to do with risking your life, woman! You’ve been targeted, and if we go there together, it won’t matter who you are, you’ll be considered as guilty as I.”

  “If I’m in danger at the cottage, you have to take me. You said yourself you wouldn’t leave me there alone.” A wave of dizziness had her swaying with the grass.

  Logan steadied her, gently pushing loose strands of hair back from her face. She resisted the urge to lean into his strong body and let him make all the decisions. “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “Let’s take a break, get a meal, and get you feeling better, then we’ll see.”

  Trina nodded, relieved she didn’t have to argue her cause immediately. She walked over to Solanum, bracing for the ride through one more portal. Before she could mount, Solanum shied to the side. She stumbled and fell against his flank.

  “What the...?”

  “Something comes through the Gate!” Logan shoved her on top of the puca and mounted behind her. The grass moved as if a slight breeze blew from the direction of the Gate, but the air itself was still.

  The ground began to vibrate.

  Solanum took off, galloping away from the stones. Trina slid, grabbing for his mane, the jolting shaking her sore stomach. Ahead, the swirling colors of a portal opened. Solanum’s hooves pounded as he picked up speed, and Trina’s head swam. A small pop came from behind them.

  Trina risked looking back. One-by-one, three hideous, large slimy creatures emerged from the empty air between the stones. Emitting bone-shaking roars, the bulky green humanoids dropped to all fours and raced after them.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Dark green, oozing slime, and like nothing she’d ever seen in one of her text books, the creatures had crawled out of every bad horror film Trina had ever stayed up late to watch. They moved faster than she would have thought their blocky humanoid shapes could manage and raced towards them with unreal lightning speed.

  “Hurry!” She held as tight as she could to the puca as Solanum put on a burst of speed and the mists of the portal rocketed up. But it was too far away. They weren’t going to make it.

  “You’ll need to do better than that.” Logan urged Solanum.

  There was a sudden blur as they leapt into the portal, just as the first of the creatures long, drippy fingers clawed out.

  Time stopped.

  Their mad rush was suspended, caught in the timelessness of the portal. The whirling grey-purple fog and its phantasms
of sight and sound flowed by at a bizarrely slow rate. Trina screwed her eyes shut and hung on, screaming to the goddess a prayer for survival.

  Solanum’s hooves thudded onto a hard surface and Trina jerked in surprise, losing her grip and flying over the puca’s head. She landed, in sandy dirt by the side of a paved road,. The hounds raced out of the mist and formed a protective circle around her as she lay there, dizzy and sick. The smell of old oil and burnt tires acrid in her face as she blinked narrowly at a small cactus inches from her face

  She lifted her head a few inches and spit the blood and grit from her mouth. Every part of her body ached, but she pushed high on her elbows and peered through the long legs of the hounds and watched as the puca and Logan slid off the side of the road, Solanum’s haunches bunching in an attempt to keep his footing in the sand.

  Dry, arid highway stretched out with nothing but scattered cactus, stubby brush, and grey, lumpy hills, miles away and fading in the dusky light. Thunder rolled over head, and there was that unique scent of approaching moisture in the dessert. Beyond them, the mist of the portal started to close but, before just as it disappeared, something came through with an almost audible snap. One of the swamp creatures, already there and closing like a rattler.

  The size and shape of a gorilla, much larger than a man or an elf, and reeking of rot, it raced for Logan and Solanum. Trina caught a whiff of its stench, rolled on her side, and retched.

  Solanum turned , his teeth bared and screaming his lust for battle. The monster reached for his head, but the puca twisted away and the thing lumbered past. Still on Solanum’s back, Logan pulled Singer free.

  The creature ran at them in a second headlong rush. Its massive arms stretched out. It grabbed Solanum’s neck with long slimy fingers, one set of claws sinking in. The puca’s muscles bulged as the thing tightened its hold. His uncanny eyes glowed in the half-dusky light and he, twisted, snapping at the creature’s shoulder with sharp teeth.

  Singer sliced down, as Logan took off the thing’s arm, freeing the puca. Green ooze sprayed from the wound. It made a liquid, garbled sound, reeled back, and fell to the ground screaming.

  Solanum reared up and brought ringing vicious, sharp hooves down, aiming for its head. The thing rolled from side to side, dust rising as the puca reared up again and again, smashing down powerful blows. Trina struggled to see as the light faded. Clouds gathered, full and heavy with the scent of rain, and narrow spears of lighting cracked in the sky.

  Logan dismounted and he and the puca closed in from either side. Logan slashed at the creature with his broadsword and Solanum with his sharp hooves. Lighting flashed illuminating the creature’s frantic defense. Logan stepped up and stabbed. Slime oozed out, pooling in the dirt. There was a last mournful cry, its movements slowed, and then stopped.

  Logan and Solanum circled the collapsed form of the creature, but it beyond a last reflexive twitching, it didn’t move.

  Thunder rolled and the first drops of rain fell.

  Logan pushed through the anxious hounds and helped her to stand. “Are you alright, lass?”

  Clear, cold rain washed down her face, trickled down her nose and into her blouse, plastering her hair to her scalp. “I’m fine.” Trina lifted her face to the sky, opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out, grateful to let the rain wash the blood and sourness away.

  Solanum trotted over. “Well, I’m not. The stink of that thing is making my eyes water.” He had four deep gashes bleeding on his neck, but they were clotting, even as the rain washed them clean.

  Logan touched her cheek. “You’re shaking. Too many portals?”

  Trina smiled a weak smile. “A few.” She reached up and brushed rain off of Logan’s face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t any help.”

  Logan frowned. “No one expects you to be able to go through portals and then cast spells.”

  Frustration welled up under her breastbone. “I do. I expect it.”

  “And what would you have done?”

  He had her there. All her spells took time. He’d been right to leave her behind in the first place. She was a hindrance, not a help. Her desperation to find a solution to the extermination of her tribe had pushed her into situations she’d never imagined. And she had nothing. No defense. No offense. Nothing.

  “It’s alright. You’re alive. Everything’s fine and we’re safe in New Mexico.” Logan’s charm shined out and made her smile.

  “New Mexico? Why did you pick New Mexico?”

  He laughed. “Crazy, right? There’s a tunnel entrance here. I doubt we could take you through another portal anytime soon. Am I right?”

  The thought of another portal was enough for her to lean over and gag again.

  Solanum backed away. “You’re not to put her on me until she’s done heaving.”

  “It’s not far. You’ll be fine.” Logan helped her onto the puca and mounted behind her. Ignoring Solanum’s continuous complaints, they rode in the direction of the grey hills.

  Trina huddled into Logan and hid her face from the downpour. She’d failed. She had no spells that could explode, conjure fireballs, or paralyze. Her fantasy of their being equals, of finding common ground enough to build something like a relationship, had been destroyed today. Ground to dust in the New Mexican dirt.

  LOGAN WAS ALWAYS ASTONISHED at the amount of stars you could still see through the Earth’s pollution. The sun was long gone, the thunder clouds dispersed, and the clear night sky was now peopled by the constellations as they made their way along the base of the Sandias and approached the home of the tunnel guardian.

  Trina was clasped in front of him, lulled by Solanum’s easy pace into a restless slumber. Her glamour was gone and she looked vulnerable, her face marred by road rash and bruises. He hated what he was about to do, but he had no choice.

  “Hey, lass, time to wake up.” She roused at the sound of Logan’s voice.

  “Is the tunnel entrance close?”

  “Yes, but we’ll talk about that later. You need a place to rest.”

  “I don’t understand. Is it safe to sleep here?”

  “We’ll be safe enough. This entrance has a guardian.” They approached the dark buildings. A light flicked on the front of the main ranch house and the front door opened a crack.

  “Hail, Stephan Two-Trees,” Logan called.

  “Who’s there?” A man’s voice answered from beyond the slit of the doorway.

  “Logan Ni Brennan. And I’ve brought a guest.”

  “I would think that was a lie, if the fae could lie.” A man dressed in jeans and nothing else stepped forward, the light shining on his bronzed bare chest. “I didn’t know you’d been released. It’s definitely you, though. No one else would put up with a puca for a mount.”

  Logan eased Trina off of Solanum and dismounted.

  “No one else would have the balls to piss off a puca.” Solanum retorted. “Do you need me, or can I go?”

  “Go. I’ll call when I want you.” Logan took Trina’s small hand in his and they stepped up to the house. “I request sanctuary, Stephan.”

  “Fuck that. You know you’re welcome. Come on in.” Stephan pushed the door wide. “What did you do to the witch? She looks like crap.” Trina jolted.

  “How did you—?”

  Logan squeezed her hand in reassurance. “If you can provide some dinner, my friend, I’ll provide the story.”

  “Bargain taken.” Stephan led them into the living room. The room was small and the furniture had seen better days, but Stephan looked the same. Long dark hair, a slender warrior’s build, and an elvatian’s crystalline grey eyes...if it weren’t for his rounder ears, Stephan could have passed for full Tuathan much easier than Logan. “Sit down and I’ll get you some food.” The half-fae left the room.

  “How long have you known him?” Trina perched on the edge of the faded sofa. “Can we trust him?”

  “Long enough.” Logan sat next to her and took her hand, rubbing her palm with his thumb. “He was one of Kia
n’s men, before the rebellion.”

  He had a crazy need to touch her, and keep touching her, as if he should never let her go. He dropped her hand and rubbed his palms on his thighs, wishing he could rub off what he was about to do.

  “Too long,” Stephan came back from the kitchen, carrying a tray of warm steaming bowls of chili, and a plate of soft tortillas. “We’ve known each other almost all my life, right?” He placed the food on the table in front of them. “Eat up. You look like you need food worse than you need information.”

  Trina took a bowl of chili and dipped a tortilla in.

  “We were Kian’s misfits.” Logan explained between bites. “The ones the prince took under his wing and tried to protect.”

  “But he’s...human.” She whispered, rolling her eyes.

  “Only half. That’s what makes me a poor companion for a pure-blooded prince.” Stephan said, and winked. “I’m mixed blood—half Native American and half Tuathan. That makes me unwelcome no matter where I go.” He turned back to Logan. “I heard she turned on all of you after I left.”

  “You decided to leave court at the best time. Too many good men died when the prince rebelled.” Logan tried not to think of the bloodshed. The screams, the pain...

  “I should have been there.” Stephan’s grey eyes went dark. “You needed me. Kian needed me.”

  Trina finished her chili. She tipped over and curled up on her side, pillowing her head in his lap. He stroked her hair as her eyes drifted shut.

  He was a piss-poor protector, letting her get into trouble this way. He had no home for her. No station in life other than boot-licker to the queen. Until he found out why the queen was after the MacElvys, he had no idea how best to protect her. And every day his search for Kian got put farther and farther to the side.

  “If you’d been there that night, there’s a good change you wouldn’t be here now, when I need you.” He’d made up his mind. She might hate him in the morning, but he couldn’t afford the pain of losing her. Not now. “She can go no further, Stephan.” He kept his voice low, relieved when she didn’t stir to berate him. “Can I leave her here?”