Time Everlastin' Book 5 (39 page)

"I can live wi'
tha'."

"Abou' Taryn...."

"Aye?" Broc said
warily.

"If you marry, she'll be
ma...mither."

A laugh burst from Broc. "I
daresay she willna take to ye callin' her such."

"Perish the
thought."

"Lachlan, I do love
her."

"I know."

Silence.

"So...wha' do we do
now?"

Lachlan's eyebrows inched
upward. "Have you had supper?"

"No. Ye?"

"No."

Silence.

"Lachlan?"

Silence, then,
"Wha'?"

Broc struggled to get beyond
the fear of this last secret. Before his courage could bolt, he
blurted, "There be mair you need to know."

"Somethin' to do wi' the
fairies, aye?"

Lachlan's words and cold
tone took Broc aback. "Ye ken?"

"I sensed yer mistrust o'
Blue an' Reith in Karok's chamber, and again when you met Deliah. I
canna help but question wha' kind o' mon is afraid o' beings as
wondrous as they."

Broc shuffled to the ornate
railing and gripped the top, his back to his son. "Tis
difficult."

"Mair so than wha' I already
know?"

"Mayhaps."

"I'm listenin'," Lachlan
said impatiently.

Silence, then, "Ye're fond
o' fairies, aye?"

"Och, aye."

"How fond?"

Lachlan chuckled and
scratched his nape. "They're a part o' me. I canna imagine ma life
wi'ou' them."

Broc whirled to face his son
when Lachlan was midway through his response. He felt ill, shaky,
and suddenly feverish.

"Broc, say wha' needs
sayin'."

Before he lost his nerve,
Broc spilled the truth—the whole truth, including what he had
learned from Blue. When he finished, he expected to see Lachlan
flee, or at least to hear shouts of denial. Instead, seconds of
silence followed until Lachlan nonchalantly said, "Fegs. It
explains a lot."

Broc ran to Lachlan and
flung his arms about him and held fast. "Ma son," he choked. "Ma
son." Hesitantly, Lachlan's arms embraced his father. Then
abruptly, they stepped back, each man embarrassed,
self-conscious.

"Come," said Lachlan,
heading for the steps. "Ma stomach's growlin'."

A reticent yet buoyant Broc
followed.

When they were on the gravel
park area near the house, Blue flew from around one of the posts
and settled full-sized on the railing, tears streaming down her
face. It should be beneath her to eavesdrop, but she was prepared
to disperse a bit of fairy dust if the men's pride had stopped them
from opening up lines of communication.

"Tears o' happiness,
annsachd?"

Startled by Reith's sudden
appearance in front of her, she nearly pitched backward. Reith
grabbed her beneath the arms and swung her to her feet. She swayed
then sputtered indignantly when his hands anchored possessively
about her waist.

"Take your hands off
me!"

"In due time," he said
quietly, his impelling gaze staring deeply into her eyes. "Tis time
we discuss—"

Blue slapped her palms to
his chest to no avail. Her wings fluttered in irritation as high
color stole into her face. "I'm warning you!"

"Ye always make this so
difficult," he sighed and swiftly brushed her hands aside and
crushed her to him, one hand at her nape beneath her long,
blue-black hair, his other arm a steel band across her back. He
chuckled deep in his throat when she sputtered in an attempt to
speak. Her squirming quieted when she realized their close
proximity had her at a distinct disadvantage. She could not whisk
herself from his hold, not as long as his power counteracted her
own.

Her wings drooped in
reluctant resignation, and she vented her anger through a glower
meant to cower him. This didn't work, of course. At some point
since coming to Baird House, the gullible, easily pliable,
self-indulgent boy that he had been, had grown into a man. A man
who, in her heart of hearts—that place where anger could not
adhere—was all that she had known he could be from the dawn of her
birth.

But his very male tenacity
at this moment was not appreciated.

"I hear ye brought Broc into
the kingdom."

"Yes," she said
breathlessly, her gaze off to one side.

"Concerned for him, were
ye?"

Her gaze flitted to his eyes
then away. "Yes. He and Lachlan and Taryn have reconciled their
differences. Now, let me go."

"In a wee. And wha' o' our
reconciliation?"

"It'll never happen," she
said through clenched teeth, the landscape behind him now but a
blur.

"No,
annsachd?"
he whispered against her
ear.

Despite her anger, a shiver
of yearning quivered through her. She forced herself to look him in
the eye. Forced herself not to respond but for the stiffening of
her spine.

"I'm not your darling. What
part of my loathing the sight of you, don't you
understand?"

A shadow of pain flickered
across his face and vanished as a slow, challenging grin spread
across his mouth. The hand at her nape slipped from her hair, and
he brushed the backs of the fingers along her cheek. Another shiver
coursed through her, and she locked her teeth so tightly, pain
leapt along her jaw.

Tears burned behind her
eyes. She fought them back with all her will and swallowed hard
past a painful lump in her throat.

His fingertips tenderly
caressed beneath her chin, over her chin, then across her lips. Her
skin burned beneath his touch, her nerves sparking, weakening her
resolve. When he unexpectedly pressed his brow to hers, her legs
threatened to buckle. She mentally cursed her inability to resist
him, and cursed MoNae for creating this flaw in her otherwise
impeccable fortitude.

"I know ye love me, Blue,"
he said, his voice as soft as butterfly wings. "Almaist as much as
I love ye."

He tilted her head back and
she closed her eyes in anticipation of his kiss. Her heart raced.
Her blood sang. Her breath grew labored. The mind could hate. The
heart could not. Such was the law of nature.

Reith had not been created
for her. His callous disregard for his lineage had prompted MoNae
to intervene, and Blue was spawned, the very first and only to
date, Faerie winter child. And thus so set apart from the rest of
the kingdom, and designed for no other than the youngling once
known as the Briar Prince, Blue had struggled from the beginning to
not only fit in, but to make right the wrongs perpetrated by both
the prince and the horrors cast upon the kingdom by The
Sutherlands. A heavy burden upon her small shoulders, but one she
accepted long ago.

A jolt rocked her at the
feel of his mouth on hers, the kiss, like magic born from the well
of a fairy’s soul, tearing down the walls of the darker emotions
she nurtured. His arms cradled her, and the kiss deepened, freeing
her mind of its daunting inhibitions.

Until an image of that
fateful night when he had crippled her, wrenched her back to
reality.

With a cry, she exploded in
a frenzy of motion, pushing and jerking until at last she staggered
back and saw him standing defeated, his arms listless at his
sides.

More images assaulted her.
Of the night he declared war on Faerie. Of Allyon. Again, of his
assault on her at the gazebo. Of the hunchback Reith on Sutherland
Isle. Of his contempt for all life, including his own. Of his rage
at her witnessing the slave he had become to a monster that defied
all that Mother Nature had created. Of the torture she and her
people had endured.

"Blue," he rasped, holding
out a hand to her.

She shrank back against the
railing, trembling violently.

"I be no' tha' Reith," he
said, as if divining her thoughts.

"Murderer," she whispered,
and his own legs nearly gave out beneath him.

"Blue—"

"I saw!" she wept, backing
to the rail. "Your parents were about to decree Allyon my new
husband...the kingdom's new king!"

"Blue—"

"And the explosion, before
the announcement was completed. Your magic signature! And I...and I
saw you. No one else did, but I saw you—"

"Stop, Blue!"

"—at the portal to the human
world with a bow in your hands. I saw the rose thorn. Followed
it's—" She gulped in air. "—trajectory. You murdered Allyon! You
pierced his heart with that thorn!"

Reith clenched his hands
into fists. "Ask me wha' happened tha' night."

"So you can lie to me
again?" She held up shaky hands, her voice raspy with contempt.
"MoNae forgave you. I will not! I'll rip my heart from my breast
before I allow it to make me blind to what you really
are!"

"Ye must ask me—"

In the blink of an eye, a
tiny Blue flew from the gazebo, into the cold mist of the night,
and from sight. Reith sat in the center of the structure like a rag
doll tossed there, legs crossed, arms limp, and eyes devoid of
warmth. A flicker of life appeared in them when Braussaw approached
and settled himself atop his lap. The dark beady eyes peered into
Reith's face with the mute question,
Now
what?

Disheartened, Reith massaged
his brow then absently stroked the bird's head.

"She refuses to see tha' I
remain under The Sutherland's spell," he murmured. Sighing from the
depths of his despair, he added, "I canna expose the truth unless I
be specifically asked."

A cooing gurgle was
Braussaw's response.

"Aye, ma sentiments,
exactly, ma friend. Females. Why so complex? Beth and Laura and
Deliah an' Taryn, too. Mayhaps it be the curse o' all males at
Baird House to walk over burnin' coals to win their
love."

Braussaw ruffled his
feathers.

"Och, but Beth an' Laura an'
Taryn have no' ma Blue's temper." He grimaced comically. "Nor did
Lachlan, Roan and Winston and Broc do wha' I did to Blue. Mayhaps I
deserve her mistrust. Mayhaps no'. A spell-induced grudge held for
three hundred years is a wee much—even for a fairy! Aye, especially
for a fairy! Mair so unfair since I be the brunt o' her
displeasure, and me wearin' ma bloody love for her like a bright,
shinin’ banner for all to see.

"Fegs and nick ma wings on a
thorn," he grumbled.

Lifting Braussaw and setting
him on his feet, Reith jumped up and ran from the gazebo. Although
it shocked him that the mist had turned to cold, driving rain, it
didn't stop him from running to the twisted oak by the carriage
house.

He braced his hands on the
coarse bark and shouted, "Ye, win, Blue. I be done tryin' to woo
ye! Live yer lonely life as you see fit, and I'll live mine! Ye
have ma vow this night, I willna approach ye or touch ye
again!"

He stepped from beneath the
branches, raised his face to the pelting rain, and released a cry
of triumph, for triumph it was to have finally accepted the fact
that—given she did not want to know the truth—he and Blue did not
have a future together.

"Much better!" he declared,
slapping a hand over his heart, and stalked in the direction of the
manor's front door. When it closed behind him, Blue fluttered down
from among the branches where she had witnessed his outburst, and
materialized into her human height. She shivered with cold and an
abysmal emptiness that rankled her reasoning.

She wanted him out of her
life, didn't she?

She wanted the ties MoNae
had created between them severed. Didn't she?

In honor of the fairies who
had lost their lives to The Sutherland, and for the young prince
who would have been the kingdom's new king and her justly appointed
new husband, she would never forget the past.

MoNae did not possess the
power to right those wrongs, and the earth goddess chose
forgiveness over justice when it came to Reith.

So unfair.

Her heart ached. Gloom was a
mantle she couldn't shuck off.

Tears streamed down her face
as she pressed against the bark, hugging herself to ward off some
of the chill that seemed to come from inside her and not from the
fall elements.

Resolve settled into her
bearing as she straightened away from the tree.

What good are Reith's word,
anyway?

He would never forsake the
game, for his pursuit of her was just that—a

game.

A male's ego ruled their
logic, and Reith was no exception.

He wanted her guard down. He
was setting her up for the grand finale, for a seduction ploy he
believed would win him back his kingdom, his people.

"When flowers burp," she
muttered, and vanished inside the oak.

Chapter 20