Hunted (Book One of the Forever Faire Series): A Fae Fantasy Romance Novel (9 page)

As his hair spilled around their faces, it threaded through and twined in hers.

“Is this even real?” Kayla whispered. “Or am I dreaming again?”

He said something in a language that tickled her ears, and suddenly their clothes vanished, and they were on the bed. He loomed over her, surveying her body as if he’d never seen a woman naked. Her fingers kneaded the heavy muscles of his chest. She took in the beauty of his tapered waist and long limbs, and let her gaze drift down to the plum head and thick shaft of his erect penis. It nested against the soft dark curls covering her sex, menacing and entrancing all at once. When he reached down she parted her thighs and lifted her hips for him.

As soon as he positioned himself his eyes glittered, and he rubbed against her, crowning himself with her slick fluids. Kayla’s lashes fluttered as she felt him invading and stretching her. He felt so big she had a moment of panic, but as he forged in, the penetration set off a flood of sensations so exquisite she groaned with helpless delight.

“Oh, Ryan. Oh, finally.”

As Ryan worked deeper, he watched her eyes as he began to stroke.

It wasn’t a dream. She clutched at his flexing biceps, her body trembling as she accepted every deep thrust. Ryan was on her, and in her, his shaft so deliciously thick and hard it made her softness around him feel like silk and cream.

“I have you,” he murmured, gazing into her eyes as he cradled her, and they floated above the bed. Nothing but air surrounded them as he glided in and out. “I can feel you in my heart now, Kayla love. Let me into yours.”

Though she didn’t know how, everything made perfect sense. The air warmed around them as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and felt his buttocks flexing under her heels. This was happening, over the bed instead of on it. When he took her breasts in his hands and bent to kiss each pink, pebbly nipple she felt his magic inside her. He was using it to take her, warming and thrilling her as he pumped in and out with his body.

“How can you…
ah
.”

He nipped one hard peak, and she arched against him, her desire mounting and rebelling and becoming some huge, impossible hunger that only he could feed.

“There,” he breathed, watching her face as they both felt the force expanding inside her, around them, saturating their blood. “That belongs to me, love. Drench me with it, yes, you can. You know how much I need you.”

Kayla cried out as he plowed into her, faster and harder, stroking her core until the enormous pleasure began to overtake them. He spoke again to her in that haunting tongue, words she almost understood. He put his mouth over hers, his breath filling her lungs and whispering his love in her heart. When she could take no more she let go, shattering and flinging the shards of herself into his light.

Ryan’s voice dropped to a hoarse, heart-rending cry, and his big frame jerked against her as he poured into her, all heat and light and delirious bliss.

I can’t bear it,
Kayla thought, expecting to feel herself pour over him in one last wave of ecstasy. Instead darkness carried them away together, plunging them into the peaceful nothingness of the lovers’ shared nowhere. Time had no more meaning for her as she held him, until she felt him slip away. She couldn’t find a path to follow, and for the first time she knew real terror.

“Kayla.” Her sister’s voice dragged her into a different, piercing light. “Wake up.”

Kayla tried to shade her eyes as Tara pulled her upright. She sat on the bed next to her and peered at Kayla’s face. As Kayla came back to herself, she turned her head and saw that she lay on her bed in their room at the lodge. She remained fully dressed but for her boots, which sat on the floor by the closet.

Kayla frowned as the unlovely aroma of her body and garments filled her nose. When she tucked in her chin she saw all the stains and dirt she’d acquired while mucking out the stalls. Bits of straw and soil clung to her boots, too.

“Why am I dirty?”

“You didn’t shower or change before you conked out.” The mattress gave as Tara stood. “From the way you smell, you should have.”

Feeling stunned, Kayla climbed off the bed, holding onto the side of it until her legs felt steady. Outside their window it was dark.

“You saw me come in tonight?”

“No. I was over at the hatchet toss, talking to Christine.” Her sister grimaced. “I apologized. She was nice about it.”

Kayla nodded absently as she walked into the bathroom they shared, and looked at herself in the small mirror over the sink. She looked exactly as she had when she’d left the barn, right before the drunk had jumped her.

Had that even happened?

Unable to decide, she ran her hand over her rumpled hair, felt something, and tugged it out of the tangled strands. Between her fingers hung a damp, broken pine needle.

R
yan looked
up at the knocking on his door. It opened a moment later.

Colm entered but stopped as soon as he stepped inside.

“’Tis naught important. We’ll speak later.”

“Stay,” Ryan said, hefting the battle axe he’d been polishing since before dawn. He hung it up by the fireplace. “I’m not interested in taking your head. Yet.”

“A cause for celebration, my liege.” His second nudged the door shut and cautiously approached. “Is there another neck in danger, perhaps?”

“No.” Ryan went to the window to stare out at the woods where he had taken Kayla. “I need you to fire the Rowe sisters, and take them away.”

“The moment I leave you,” Colm said quickly, and came over to join him. “We needn’t hire replacements. Wallace is deft enough with the horses, and I’ve been known to ply a needle or two.” Ryan didn’t respond. “She’ll be safer away, Ryan, and so will you.”

He rested his brow against the cold glass and closed his tired eyes.

“Conjure some luck for them before you take them to town. I cannot… I should not see her again.”

His second touched his shoulder before silently retreating.

Ryan moved from the window to Elias’s old rocker, where he sat and beheld the mirror-bright gleam of his battle axe’s blade. Taking Kayla to his remote cabin had been reckless. He’d been close to boiling over after dealing with her attacker. Making love to her he could not regret, much as he should. She had brought him back from the edge with her passion, and turned his rage into something so deep and pleasured and destroying he knew he would never forget it. It tore at him to know she would remember last night only as another dream, but after revealing himself to her he’d had no choice.

That he’d given not a single thought to his poor lost Maeve while loving Kayla didn’t trouble Ryan as it should have. The lesson learned remained, however. He could not fall in love with another mortal. To do so was to court madness. He sat and stared into the flames, remembering every detail of the night. How long he sat there, he didn’t know—or care. A sunbeam slowly drifted across the floor, reminding him of her eyes when she had found her pleasure.

Another knock intruded on his reverie, and he looked up to see Colm and Wallace enter.

“What is it now?”

“News.” Colm gave the smith a troubled look. “I conjured the luck charm for the sisters, as you asked. The moment I cast it, it went null.”

Ryan frowned. “What do you mean, null? The only thing that can do that is…” He regarded Wallace.

The big man nodded. “Colm asked me to perform a trace and the spell track is unmistakable. The Rowe sisters are the source of the curse, my liege.”

Ryan jolted to his feet in shock. “You mean to tell me that they are Fae? But we have all read them both as mortal.”

“One of them was cursed to appear so,” the smith said. “But the enchantment used is so powerful that it engulfs them both.”

Ryan’s eyebrows flew up. “The only reason to cloak them so powerfully as human is–”

“Because one of them is a changeling,” Colm finished.

Ryan felt bile crawl up in his throat. A changeling was an unwanted Fae child left in the place of a stolen mortal infant. The practice had once been widespread among their kind, for mortal children had a strange, seductive power over Fae women. In the old days most babies often remained alone and unguarded while their peasant mothers worked in the fields, or their high-born parents left them to the dubious care of servants. Over time mortal couples grew to better cherish infants and safeguard their homes, which made it more difficult for the Fae to make the switch. He had been glad when the practice had dwindled away, for stealing mortal babies was just as horrific as abandoning a Fae child to live as a changeling.

“But a changeling could be enchanted to pass as the human child they replaced,” Ryan said. “Why curse her?”

Wallace’s expression grew uneasy. “A simple enchantment would not be enough to mask a changeling with a dangerous power, or the capacity for great evil. Such things are almost always done for the very worst reasons.”

“It smells to me of Dark Fae,” his second added. “You know how they favor such scheming.”

Ryan knew their enemies to be power hungry and ruthless, but to use babies as pawns? The Dark Fae must have been desperate. He looked from Colm to Wallace. They had already come to the same conclusion.

“What is the course you advise?”

“We must discover which sister is the changeling,” Colm said. “And then try to fathom why she was hidden among mortals.”

Ryan eyed him. “Kayla is brave and good and true. She is the mortal, I am sure of it.”

“Or the enchantment makes her seem so,” Wallace countered. “My liege, such is the curse that she herself would not be aware.”

Ryan looked out at the forest, and felt his roiling emotions settle into a bleak despair. If the Dark Fae were involved, their scheme would likely threaten both the Fae and the mortal world.

“How do we learn which one is the changeling?”

“We can begin by separating them, and questioning them,” his second suggested gently.

“The curse is stronger when they’re together,” Wallace said. “The true mortal sister may know something about her sibling that would reveal her dark nature.”

It couldn’t be Kayla. Everything in Ryan said so. But he had a duty. Ryan faced his men.

“Keep watch over the seamstress, Wallace. Colm and I will take Kayla to town and question her.”

“
I
’m a little confused
,” Kayla said as she followed Colm out to the cluster of pickup trucks they used for supply runs into town. “First, you said we were fired. Then you made us go over to the smithy to watch Wallace stare back at us. Now you need me to help you with a feed order.” She stopped when she saw Ryan standing by the pickup. “Oh, no. I don’t think so.”

“You still have a job, and today it’s to load grain on the truck. Come on, then.” Colm took her by the arm and urged her forward. “You’ll drive, and he’ll not bite.”

“It’s me who will bite,” Kayla said, but she climbed into the cab and behind the steering wheel.

When Ryan took the middle seat, the air between them seemed to heat. Kayla’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, but she kept her gaze straight out the windshield.

“Let’s go,” Colm said, pulling the door closed behind him.

She took the access road she’d seen the first night, stopping long enough for Colm to jump out and open the gate.

“I know I didn’t dream last night,” she said to Ryan as she stared stonily out the windshield. “So don’t even go there.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” Ryan said.

“You can also stop pretending to look like Mr. Average whenever we’re alone. I remember all about the sun god hair, sparkling eyes, ivory skin, the incredible sex, and you trying to hide it all from me, which if you hadn’t noticed, isn’t working very well. Does Colm change, too, or is that just your deal?”

“Kayla,” Ryan said gently, “Be quiet now.”

As soon as Colm climbed back inside she drove through the open gate and onto the road.

“The boss wants me to shut up,” she told the show manager. “So you do the talking.”

“It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?” Colm said. He looked at both of them before he settled back against the bench seat. “I think we should visit the market while we’re in town. And perhaps dine out for luncheon.”

Out of the corner of her eye Kayla caught something dark in the side mirror. She looked to see seven motorcycles emerge from the woods behind them. Fear dropped in the pit of her stomach like a stone. Nausea spread through her, but there was no time to process it. A dozen more bikers appeared on the road ahead of them.

“Ryan…” Colm began.

When Kayla checked the mirror again, the men behind them were close enough for her to see their forehead tats. She floored the gas pedal, aiming at the center of the pack up ahead.

“That’s not going to–” Ryan said.

Although the pack parted, tire irons appeared in their hands. Every window was pummeled as they passed. The windshield shattered, spewing shards of glass all over the cab. As Kayla struggled to control the steering, Ryan’s giant hand cranked the wheel hard. The tires screeched as the truck did a 180.

“Take us back to the faire grounds,” he bellowed, his foot on top of hers as the engine roared.

“We’ll not make it, Ryan,” she heard Colm say.

The biker pack had reformed and was almost on them. Kayla jerked the wheel and sent the truck off into a field. The vehicle bucked and swayed, but kept moving forward—but not fast enough. Bikers passed them on both sides. Without warning, Ryan stomped on the brake.

“Colm,” he yelled. “Get her clear.”

Kayla was thrown forward as they came to a sudden stop on the edge of the field. In her peripheral vision, both men burst with light. A very different-looking Colm appeared at her door, yanked it open, and dragged her out. Ryan was right behind her, saying something. But she couldn’t hear over the din of the motorcycles. Together he and Colm lifted her off her feet and sprinted toward the center of the field. As the bikers pursued them Ryan stopped, gestured to Colm, and shoved Kayla behind him.

The gang stopped and climbed off their bikes, letting them fall over. But without hurry, they spread out to form a circle. The one who had tried to drag Tara out of Kayla’s car approached them. He took off his shades to squint at Ryan and Colm.

“No need to fight, exiles,” he said. His gravelly voice drove invisible splinters into Kayla’s spine. “Give us the woman and her sister, and we will let you live.”

Ryan lowered his head as white light encircled the three of them. “Leave now, Dirk Blackstone, and I will not gut you in front of your mewlings.”

The rest of the bikers chuckled as if he’d made a joke.

“I can compromise,” Dirk said. He smiled faintly as he focused on Kayla, stepping closer. “This one, then, in return for safe passage back to your little faire.”

Although Kayla waited for Ryan’s rejoinder, there wan’t one.

“Ryan, no,” Colm muttered.

A wave of heat rolled off Ryan as the light around them darkened to scarlet. The sunlight dimmed and, to her shock, his eyes blazed even hotter than they had last night. Then several things happened at once.

Dirk reached out to grab her, Colm lunged at Ryan, and Ryan’s eyes turned solid black. Kayla watched in horror as Ryan batted Colm away as if he were nothing more than an insect. Then he went for Dirk, and the other bikers rushed at her.

Colm pushed her into the center of the circle of light. “Don’t you move!” he yelled.

His long garnet hair whipped across her face as he looked over at Ryan. He had Dirk on the ground and was using a strange, bloody dark club to beat him in the head. Kayla saw the body of another biker on the ground, and nearly screamed when she saw his left arm was missing.

Two of the biggest bikers flung themselves at Ryan’s back, stabbing at him with knives. He stopped bludgeoning Dirk long enough to shake them off. Quicker than a man his size should have been able to move, Ryan spun, caught both by the neck, and hurled them to the ground. Before either could even raise their heads, Ryan kicked one, then the other. Kayla thought she heard breaking bones.

His face bloody, battered and bleeding, Dirk crawled backward and drew his own dagger.

“Look out!” she screamed.

Dirk flung the blade at Ryan, striking him in the side of the neck.

“Ryan!” she shrieked, as Colm grabbed her arm and kept her in place.

Ryan dropped to his knees, his expression puzzled as he gripped the hilt of the weapon. The rest of the gang grabbed Dirk and the other wounded men, hauling them toward the trees.

“You should know this, Sheridan,” Dirk said, struggling to his feet and staggering backward. “The changeling you protect is evil. As black a soul as my own. She merits no sanctuary among you and yours.”

He nearly fell over before gripping one of his men’s shoulders and limping into the woods.

Kayla watched as the bikers vanished into the shadows, and jumped as their motorcycles started on their own and followed, riderless, after them. The circle of light faded away, and she rushed over to Ryan, Colm right behind. The only evidence of the battle was the knife Ryan had pulled out of his neck, and the bloody, dismembered arm, which melted into the ground a moment later, leaving only an oily black stain on the snow.

She knelt in front of him. “How badly are you hurt? We have to take you to a hospital!”

“No need.” Ryan smiled faintly as he touched the shallow cut on his neck. It slowly closed beneath his fingers. “Colm will take you back to the faire. I’ll stand sentinel while he does.”

“Are you crazy?” She stood up. “We’re not leaving you here. What if they come back? You’ll be alone, and–”

“I’ll go berserk again, and kill anything that moves,” Ryan finished for her. “Including you and Colm, love.”

“
H
is affliction is very rare
,” Colm told Kayla, weighing his words.

He’d left his liege as ordered, and he and the girl were nearly at the faire grounds. She’d had to run to keep up with his long strides.

“Naught but a handful of true berserkers have ever been born among our clans,” he continued. “Most of them die the first time they lose control, or must be beheaded to be stopped. Not our Ryan.”

She gave him a wide-eyed look. “He’s done that before?” she said between breaths.

The woman had seen so much now he might as well tell her. “Six times that I know. Most when he served our clan leaders. He fought in many wars. Well, perhaps not so many. Two or three that I recall.”

“I know you’re not human, Colm,” she said as they moved through the boundary spell protecting the Forever Faire. “So you’re going to tell me all of it. What you are, what you’re doing here, why the Blackstones want me and my sister, what a changeling is, the magic, everything.” She waved at Wallace, who came trotting toward them. “Just go get Ryan now, and bring him home.”

“Go to your room, and wait for me there,” Colm said. For a moment she wavered and looked like she might try to go with them. “You’ve seen what happens when you leave the faire. I’ll not ask twice.”