For Your Heart (Hill Dweller Retellings) (25 page)

BOOK: For Your Heart (Hill Dweller Retellings)
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As she moves, the necklace around her neck slips, dropping the heavy gold of her cross against my wrist.  For a long moment, my pulse pounds against the warm metal.  Too soon…  A memory surfaces.  One of Jean running away and getting into the car with her parents.  They’re all dressed nice.  She turns and waves.  Where is she going?  Church.  Catholic…  There are rules.  There are promises she’s made.  I know she has made them.  Has she forgotten?  Can’t she say no?  Have I made it too difficult for her?  Too much, too soon. 

    
As much as I don’t want to stop, I ease out of the kiss, making certain to show her that I’m reluctant to stop.  I look down at her.  Her eyes search mine, confused as to why I’ve stopped.  I slide my hand away and say, “Is this what you want?”

    
Her brow creases as she runs a finger over one of the thorny branches tattooed over my skin – markings I’ve had for as long as I can remember.  “What do you mean?”

    
I lift my hand and stare at it.  Where it has been, what I’ve been doing with it, and how much she liked it, makes my body want her more.  I want her so bad it hurts.  I’ve never wanted anyone like I want her.  I’ve never not been able to have someone I wanted.  This is hard, saying no, but beyond the lust I carry for her, I love Jean.  And I know that this time should be special.  I close my fingers into a fist and lower it to her stomach, soft and pale, then I look back at her. 

    
She’s still waiting for my response.  “If we continue like this, I’m not sure I can stop myself again.  I want you, Jean.  I want you so much it scares me.  I just…” I pause looking for the right words, searching for it in her bemused green eyes, “I don’t want to hurt you or chase you away.  I want to make sure this is the right time and means the same thing for both of us.”

    
She looks away, her throat bobbing and chest hitching.  “What does it mean to you?”

    
I untangle my fingers from her hair and smooth my thumb along her jaw.  “Something special.  Not like other times I’ve done this.”

    
Her eyes slide sideways, as if checking to make sure I’m not joking, and then escape again.  She forces a bitter smile.  “I forgot you’ve done this kind of thing before.”

    
I frown.  “Had sex?  Yes.  Made love?  No,” I correct.  “In the past when I did these things, all I thought about was giving pleasure so I could benefit from it.  I didn’t care about who I was with.  With you…”  I look down, focusing on her throat because I can’t seem to look at her as I say it.  “It’s different.”

    
“How?” she demands, as if angered.

    
I look back up at her, knowing that I need to make her see my feelings.  “Because I care about you, Jean.  This whole time we’ve been doing this all I could think of was pleasing you more, making you happy because it made me happy.  I wasn’t thinking about any kind of gain other than being closer to you, having more of you.  I’ve never felt like that before.”

    
Her eyes search mine, back and forth for a long moment.  “Then why’d you stop?”

    
I bite my lips, terrified to say it.  But it has to be said, I can’t not know anymore.  I know the language of the body and of the heart.  Her body tells me she wants me, but her heart isn’t so clear on the topic.  “Because I don’t know if you feel that way, too.”

    
A long breath escapes her, making her deflate underneath me, she raises an arm and hooks it over her eyes – hiding from me.  “I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t want to.”

    
I run my hand up and down her stomach, over her ribs and back down to her hip bone.  Goosebumps rise on her skin.  “You’re physically attracted to me, but that’s not the kind of feelings I’m talking about, Jean, and you know it.”

    
She lowers her arm and uses it to prop up on an elbow, the gesture making me go up on an elbow as well.  She stares at the length of herself and then me, as if only now realizing how far we’ve gone in this first kiss between us.  The only barriers between us are few remaining clothes and we’ve already breached those bounds with wandering hands.

    
In the next instant, she flops back on the bed and rolls away from me.  She pulls into herself, drawing her knees up to her chest and hiding her face in her hands.  Then she begins to sob.

    
For a moment, I’m frozen, I don’t know what to do.  Jean’s crying because I almost made love to her.  I had thought she’d enjoyed it.  I had thought maybe she returned the feelings.  Now…

    
Sighing, I sit up and reach for my pants.  “I’ll go.”

    
The bed shifts behind me.  “So you’re just going to leave?” she demands, voice shaking with emotion.

    
I glance over my shoulder, meet her glare.  “I’ve upset you.”

    
Eyes fierce, she sits up – glorious in her undergarments.  “I’m not mad at you, jackass, I’m mad at me.”

    
Swallowing, I continue to search her eyes, waiting.  She looks away with a noise of disgust and shakes her head.  “I never thought I’d be so…easy.”  She says “easy” like it’s a dirty word.

    
“You’re not exactly easy, Jean.”

    
She shakes her head again and hides her face in her hands.  “I was totally going to let you do it, Tam. If you hadn’t stopped, we would have…” her voice trails off and she peeks at me, tears in her pained eyes.

    
Made love.  “And that’s bad?  Being with me?” I ask, my voice hoarse.

    
She drops her hands all the way.  “It’s against my religion, Tam.  You do understand what being Catholic means, right?”

    
Fire and Ice.  Love is good, lust is bad.  And if us being together is bad for her, that means it’s only lust.  And… “Lust is a sin.”

    
She searches my eyes for a long moment then shakes her head.  “It’s not just that.  Having sex before being married.  You understand that, right?”

    
Marriage.  That’s what people in love do.  So which is it?  Does she love or does she lust?  Biting my lip, I nod.  “You’ve made a promise to wait.”

    
She nods.  “It’s important to me to wait until I’m married.”  She looks down at herself and makes a bitter hand gesture.  “At least it was.”

    
I look away.  I should apologize.  I want to take it back so this didn’t happen – so she won’t feel guilty.  But I don’t.  Because I want it to have happened.  Part of me wants to say, “Then we should get married,” but I know she’d never marry someone like me.  I’m not good enough for her.  I’ve caused her too much pain, and I’m not pure and wonderful like she is.  No one ever loves me, they only lust me.  And the one time when I really want a woman lusting after me, she can’t because she’s too wonderful for that sort of thing.  My life sucks. 

    
I take a deep breath and say, “Then you should wait.  I vow to let you wait.”

    
Jean flashes me a tight but genuine smile.  “Thanks, Tam.”

    
And my heart breaks.

 

 

    

Chapter 35

 

Twyla

 

     I pull away from the glass of water on the human girl’s bed stand.  “Married?” I whisper into the darkness.  Tamrin?  Married?  To a human girl?

    
I shake my head.  No.  That cannot be.  That’s not allowed.  Standing, I grab a drying cloth and mop my face.  Then I throw it to the floor as I turn on my heel and rush from my chambers.

    
Roxel is entertaining her best friend, Rhiannon, the Spring Queen.  I pause inside the door, trying to gauge if I can interrupt the conversation or not.  The two Seelie queens are similar in a number of ways.  Both are dark haired and golden skinned.  Both are tall and classically beautiful.  Both know how to survive the trials of being the one who must choose the tithe for the court.  They walk the delicate line between love and hate.  Even their friendship has just enough poison not to cause each other the hardship of having to sacrifice one another.  They both know the pain of loss, and each deals accordingly.

    
Roxel, after hundreds of years of sacrificing friends and family, began riding abroad, pulling unsuspecting humans into our world and nurturing them as sacrifices.

    
Rhiannon, after one fateful year of being unable to choose and losing the entirety of her children to The Hunter, purposely births sons and daughters so she can kill them.  She sends them to Earth so she doesn’t see them until it’s time for them to die.

    
I’m not sure which queen is more ruthless.

    
“Twyla, don’t crouch there like a spider,” Roxel scolds.  “Come in and state your business.”

    
Rhiannon turns cool green eyes on me, shoves a deep coffee colored strand of hair out of her face, and flashes a tight smile.  She never looks happy even when she’s smiling – cruel beauty.  I hear her children carry that trait.

    
Clearing my throat, I step into the room.  “It concerns Tamrin, Milady.”

    
“Ah,” Roxel claps her hands together.  “Do tell me you’ve figured it out.”

    
I nod, my eyes shooting cautiously to Rhiannon.

    
“Would you excuse us for a moment?”  Roxel pleads of Rhiannon. 

    
Rhiannon flashes a gracious smile, wider but no less false than the one she gave me, and pushes her chair away.  She points at to the ebony and ivory figures sitting on the chess board between them.  “No cheating, Roxi, I know where all the pieces are.”

    
Roxel smoothes her gown over her thigh.  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

    
Rhiannon descends the stairs and slides by me, graceful as a snake.  I shiver.  She emits a heat and a ripe grassy scent that reminds me of drought.  I don’t like the dry…My Talent is that of a Water Witch, I like my fluids.

    
As the door closes behind the Spring Queen, Roxel looks to me.  “Well?”

    
I falter.  I’m not sure how to explain what I’ve seen.  I try to streamline it, removing the unnecessary bits such as telling her he’s in possession of the rose and intends to marry a human girl…Not just any girl, but
her
– the only one who could influence the rose.  I do not want him to get in trouble.

    
“I don’t have all day.”

    
I duck into a curtsey.  “Yes, Milady. It seems he’s rather infatuated with a human girl.”

    
“Infatuated?” she repeats, puzzled.  “I don’t understand.”

    
I think fast, trying to be both truthful and vague all at once.  I can’t allude to him having feelings for this human girl – that will not go over well with Roxel’s pride.  I force a smile.  “You know Tamrin, Milady.  Always off breaking the hearts of young maids.  He makes it a sport to toy with them.”

    
“Yes, yes.  I know.” She waves a dismissive hand.  “So what makes this one any different?”    

    
“Well,” I say, carefully choosing my words.  “I believe she’s something of a challenge for him.  She’s rather pure, wishing to preserve her maidenhead for as long as she can.  His innumerable charms don’t seem to affect her and I believe he finds this both fascinating and vexing.”

    
Roxel reaches up and rubs her lips in thought.  “Interesting.”  She drums her fingers against her jaw.

    
“Quite,” I agree, proud of my clever lie.  “I believe it’s an issue of stubborn pride at this point.  He will not give up until she folds to his advances.”  There, that ought to satisfy her.  He doesn’t get in trouble.  I don’t get in trouble.  He can be absent from court for a long period and Roxel won’t have cause to wonder.

    
She suddenly slaps her hands to her thighs and gets to her feet.  “Well then, we’ll have to help him, won’t we?”

    
Horror-struck, I flex a brow.  “What?”

    
She puts her hands on her hips.  “Come now, Twyla, use your water logged little brain.  If he’s out there trying to woo a young lady who will never bend to his charms, then that means he’s not here with me.”  She makes a pouty face.  “You know how anxious I get when I don’t have my Tamrin around.  I’m all out of sorts.”

    
To keep myself from running forward and strangling my queen, I fold my hands behind my back.  “Yes, Milady, I have noticed.”

    
“Besides, I have so little time left with him.”

    
I hadn’t forgotten that either.  “Time does seem to fly.”

    
Her pout goes halfway to a deep-thought scowl before she turns and begins a slow pace across her dais, her back tall and erect, flashing golden tawny skin where her gown plunges down her back.  “I shall help him in his conquest,” she announces, as if the whole room were filled with courtiers and fae.  “If he succeeds then there will be no reason for him to remain, right?”

BOOK: For Your Heart (Hill Dweller Retellings)
11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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