GettingLuckyinGalway (4 page)

“God bless Texas, tell me he’s not serious?” Calder shot Nob
a look of pleading. Really, finding out her mate was Fae sucked enough, but to
also find out said mate had an ego bigger than all the males in her pride put
together pretty much ruined her year.

“He’s actually handling this better than I thought. Sometimes
he has a tendency to get a little dramatic.” Nob patted her hand, all signs of
his previous temper gone.

“I’m sorry, good creatures of planet Earth. I never had a
chance to bless you with my seed and watch the fruit of my loins grown into a
perfection of looks, wit, charm and intelligence. Oh cruel, cruel world, my
seed longs to spring forth and fertilize your…ah fields.” The fool fate or
destiny cursed her with whined while falling perfectly on the couch, his tanned
forearm resting over his eyes as Roark cried his plea to an uncaring and
unimpressed audience of two.

Calder turned back to Nob, one eyebrow raised in question.
“This is handling it? What the hell does he do when he wants to make a scene?”

“Generally he rents out a theatre on Broadway and send
invitations out.” The brownie shrugged under her withering stare.

“Oh this is so not going to turn out well. My family will
roast him as an appetizer before Uncle Void whittles his bones into toothpicks
to commemorate the event of his demise.” Really, why did these things happen to
her? All she ever wanted was a nice, quiet life with a faithful mate and maybe
a kid or two to keep her daddy happy. What she never asked for and so did not
deserve was this…this drama queen with no acting talent. At least if he’d had a
gift for the dramatic then Calder could be entertained, but he lacked even that
small grace.

“Well, my dear… Ah, I’m sorry I didn’t catch you name.”

“Calder,” she responded with a weary sigh. “Calder Douget.”

“Well, Calder, we should let himself carry on and get it out
of his system. You and I will head into my office and get some things sorted
out. After all, someone needs to put this mess to rights and we both know it
won’t be him.”

“Isn’t there a small chance in hell of getting out of this?
Maybe have an exorcism? Drink a gallon of bleach? Dance naked in the rain while
chasing lightning bolts? Something I can do to break the link between us. Even
fate could not be this cruel to me.”

“Oh honey.” The little man patted her hand even as he drew
her out of the room and away from the still sighing and pouting Fae crying out
his cruel fate to the universe. “I’m afraid even if I did know of a way to
break the mate bond I simply couldn’t allow it. After all, who else would take
him?”

They both looked back to the couch where Roark lay,
pitifully sniffing his despair and bemoaning the loss of his sperm in the
world.

They shared a look then moved down the hall until Calder
could no longer hear a grown man pleading, crying and snotting over the
unfairness of his ruined life.

Chapter Three

When the door to Nob’s office clicked shut, Roark sat up,
wiped the tears and mucus and smiled. Oh he knew he looked like a complete fool
in the eyes of his
Liaria
, but surely she’d forgive him. After all,
Calder had started it by complaining over his Fae heritage. Ha, as if she had
anything to complain about. He was the one with a mate who had hair no amount
of electrolysis could zap, not to mention his grocery bill would triple with a
shifter female. Not that he’d ever say such a thing to her, even Roark knew
better than to comment on a female’s, any female’s, eating habits. It was just
asking to be killed and chopped up for a nice Fae shake in her blender. Damn
women were bloodthirsty, more likely to strike out with claws and fangs than
attempt a conversation.

So until he could get a better handle on his
Liaria
,
Roark would continue the charade of a sniveling, pansy-ass pretty boy. Though
if he never did reproduce, the world would truly be worse off.

Quickly checking to make sure his two companions were still
busy comparing notes on his lack of dignity, Roark slipped his new shiny iPhone
out of his pocket. Oh man, did he love Apple and the late, great Steve Jobs. If
any human deserved worship, surely it had been the creator of everything bright
and shiny in Roark’s world. He was a Fae, after all, and the Fae loved nothing
more than shiny objects capable of great feats.

Sliding his finger over the contact information, he tapped
the correct name and waited with tempered patience for the other line to be
answered.

After what felt like eons, but most likely fewer than twenty
seconds had passed, the voice he’d been desperately eager to talk to spoke.

“Have you called to finally admit you’re a ball-less
embarrassment to everyone in the family?”

“Only if you’re ready to admit you spent the night with that
gnome in Germany.”

“Shit!” the deep voice cursed before dropping the line of
conversation altogether. “What do you want this time, Roark?”

Feigning a hurt tone, Roark asked his cousin and closest
friend, “Can’t I call to say I love you?”

“Oh please, keep the pansy-ass routine for those who didn’t
help you come up with the asinine idea. I know you way too well, cousin, to
fall for your shit. Now what’s up?” Devon Greenleaf questioned baldly, as only
relatives could.

Giving up torturing his favorite relative for the time
being, Roark got down to the point of the call. “I’ve met my
Liaria
.”

Devon swore low before taking a deep breath. “Somehow I
don’t think congratulations are in order?”

“She’s a shifter, a lion shifter from the States.” He could
have said from Louisiana, but he didn’t want his cousin to think any worse of
his mate than he probably already did. The only good thing to come out of that
Southern state was jazz and strong coffee.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to fuck this up in
your own special window-licking way?”

Insulted and shocked by his favorite cousin’s attitude,
Roark barely managed to keep his temper. “I’m doing nothing to fuck this up. It
came to me fucked up all on its own.”

A deep, patience-gathering sigh. “Look, cousin, I understand
having a shifter as a mate may have come as sort of a surprise to you, but it’s
fate. There is no denying fate, not that any other fool but you would try. Take
the gift as she’s being offered and do not whine too much or fate may just
decide to take her gift back.”

At the mere thought of losing his Calder, his woman, his
mate, everything froze inside. “Aye,” he agreed around the thick lump currently
lodged in his throat, possibly along with his foot since he’d been sticking it
in his mouth since he’d met his woman.

“Want me to pop by and help smooth things over? Ya know I’ve
a way with the ladies.” Devon’s voice sounded way too sincere for Roark’s
comfort.

“Nay, you’ll keep your charming ways and wandering hands far
away from my mate. Maybe after we’re properly bonded I’ll allow you to chat
with her over the net.” No, he wasn’t going there. Never going to allow his
handsome, smooth-talking younger cousin anywhere near Calder until he’d bound
her to him with every ritual, magical and mortal, he could think of.

They’d been friends pretty much since birth and Devon had
never betrayed him before. The mating whirlwind must really be messing with his
mind if Roark wasted time worrying over his cousin hitting on his mate.

Hell, Roark hadn’t hit on her yet and they belonged to each
other. How much more was a man supposed to take? The simple scent of her
lingering in the air caused his cock to harden and his palms to dampen.

“You still there, Roark?” Devon’s question broke Roark out
of his useless musings.

“Aye, I’m here, wondering if this mating ritual is going to
drive me ’round the bed before it’s finished,” he confessed.

“You’re not the first male to wonder the same thing, I’ve no
doubt. Just keep your eye on the prize—your mate in your arms for the rest of
your very long life. The mother of your future children and all that.”

“Kids? Huh.” Somehow with everything else going on Roark’s
mind hadn’t caught up enough to throw kids into the equation, at least not in a
serious way. He’d thrown a hissy fit in order to get time alone, to think and
to call his cousin for advice. Actually contemplating a son or daughter made
his stomach jump, in a good but strange way. Something else to think about
later…much later.

“Has your mind completely shut down, then? One whiff of the
female and you’re back to being a youngling without an ounce of common sense or
brain power?” Devon’s voice lost its customary humor.

“Hey, wait until it happens to you then come talk to me
about solving complex equations. It’s a bit hard to keep track of everything
when my cock is trying to drive the bus, as it were.” Damn if he didn’t speak
the truth. Since the moment he’d seen Calder in the bar, the brain dangling
between his legs kept trying to take over the operation.

“Well at least I’ll be happy to find my mate, not whining
like a spoiled child.”

“Hey—”

Devon cut him off. “Wait, sorry for that remark. You’re
right, I have no idea what type of hell you’re going through. Now tell me
what’s really bothering you.”

Roark blew out a breath then ran an unsteady hand through
his hair. “Bugger me running, but the hell if I know. She’s…something. The
shifter part threw me, of course, but our kind have mixed with humans, mages
and shifters before. It’s just I always pictured my mate being more…Fae,” he
finally confessed.

Both men remained silent, each caught up in their own
thoughts.

Devon was the first to break the silence. “So you think her
being a shifter makes her less than you? And would you mind telling me her
name? I’m feeling a little rude always saying ‘her’ or ‘your mate’.”

“Calder, my mate’s name is Calder and no, I would never
dream of thinking she was beneath me.” His mind flashed outside to the rain and
the magnificent cat stretched out on the grass beneath the ancient ash tree.
“She’s so beautiful in her other form. Sleek, muscular and graceful, she’s pure
artwork in motion.”

“I’m forced to repeat myself.” Roark heard the sounds of
clothing rustling as Devon moved around on his end. “What is your problem with
Calder then? You say you find her second form beautiful, right? Then you need
to get over yourself, boyo, and learn to deal with it. This woman is your mate
and you don’t get to pick and choose which traits to keep and what to toss.”

Running a frustrated hand through his hair, Roark bit back
the growl on his lips as he paced back and forth. Why bother getting angry with
his cousin when the other man spoke nothing but the God’s honest truth. Because
Calder was his mate. “She’s rejected me,” he finally confessed.

Silence hung heavy on the line once again as Devon absorbed
the stunning words. Why he blurted the truth out he had no idea, but too late
to try to take the words back.

“She said exactly those words, that she didn’t want you for
a mate, wanted nothing to do with you?”

“Yes…no…not exactly.” He should have thought this through
before blurting out his every single thought. Damn it all, this behavior wasn’t
like him.

“Let me guess, she didn’t say anything more than not wanting
to be a notch on your bedpost. You, being the idiot ya are, took it to mean she
wanted nothing to do with you or the mating bond. How much do I have right so
far?”

“More than you should without the help of psychic senses or
electronic gadgets.”

A low sigh drifted through their connection. “Don’t be such
a gold-blind fool, Roark. Find the woman, get to know her then explain your
connection. At the very least give the lass a chance to say aye or nay.
Shifters have mates too, ya know. Maybe it’s something you should discuss with
her.”

“I hate you,” Roark replied without any real heat.

“Then stop ringing me and whining like a lass of ten.”

He flipped his middle finger at the phone then stabbed the
off button. Damn, it wasn’t the same as crashing the handset into the base, but
technology called for some concessions.

Now he’d go take his cousin’s advice and get a feel for
where his two-natured mate stood on fate and eternal mates.

* * * * *

“You changed the way you talk. Why?”

The little brownie blinked innocent eyes at her before
nudging the fire with a steel poker. “You noticed, did you?”

Uncertain what to say, Calder spoke the truth. “Um yeah.
Kind of hard not to notice.” Was this something she wasn’t supposed to talk
about? A huge no-no in the Fae culture?

Giving a nod while the wisdom of years showed in his tanned
face, Nob sank back into a small leather armchair then folded his hand across
his slight belly. “Most humans, shifter or otherwise, expect us to act like the
silly creatures portrayed in the movies. Our only goal is to serve our masters
at the expense of our own happiness. It’s all a bunch of goblin dung.”

Goblins must be the hideous creatures she’d always imagined
if Nob cursed their very bowel movements. “You don’t?” She hurried to clarify
her question. “I mean you don’t want to serve people and bend your life to
their whims and all that?”

The little man roared with laughter much deeper than someone
his size should have been capable of. The t-shirt stretched across his
shoulders while he hunched over in his chair, chortling until tears leaked from
his eyes.

It took several minutes for Nob to control his snorts of
laughter. Finally he sat up, wiped the moisture from his eyes and tried to
control the curve of his lips. “Nay, dear, we house brownies would rule the
world if only we could stop taking care of our charges long enough to bother.
You see, we’re drawn to the good of our race. We care for them from generation
to generation so long as their heart remains pure. However if ever one of our charges
strays from the light, so to speak, the bond binding us breaks in a very
painful manner.”

Huh, who knew this was so detailed? Essentially Nob was
saying the brownies had the power and if the Fae they served didn’t live up to
the smaller people’s standards, all bets were off.

“Does this happen often?” Curious, as she’d never been able
to ask these types of questions before, Calder wanted to ask everything she
could think of before Roark came in to stop her.

A small shrug. “Not as often as you’d think, but when it
does it shakes up our entire community. You see we house brownies take great
pride in our families and when one goes bad it has a negative effect on us.
Other houses look down at the brownie with the estranged house. Losing your Fae
is a humiliation no brownie can live down. So we do everything to keep our
families on the side of good. To do less makes the brownie appear weak and
easily broken.”

“What happens if you don’t leave even if your Fae person
goes bad?” Who knew Fae history could be so fascinating and complex.

Nob shuddered. “Then the brownie goes to the dark as well.
He’s as bad as his Fae and there’s no coming back from that.”

“You mean if Roark were to ‘go dark’ you would too? How is
that fair?” Damn, she knew the Fae were tricky people, not as bad as the Elf,
but almost. “Why should you be punished for something another adult being
does?”

“It’s the way of our people, Calder. It makes us stronger so
long as we remain true to who we are. If we turn weak, greedy or selfish then
we move away from who we were created to be. Brownies help the Fae remember
their roots and vice-versa. We’re a check and balance system for each other.”

Calder’s respect for the smaller but powerful people grew.
“I guess when you have so much power it’s better to play on the safe side.”

Nob smiled then asked a question of his own. “What of you,
Calder? Do your people not have a system to police themselves? After all,
shifters have considerable power of their own.”

Carefully she turned possible answers over in her mind.
Shifters grew up being taught to maintain the secrecy of their people. One easy
slip of the tongue and humans would be up in arms with torches and pitchforks.
However, after all Nob shared with her, Calder didn’t see any harm in sharing a
few minor secrets of the shifter world.

“We have a sheriff’s council. A few of the strongest of each
pride, clan, pack or nest are picked to police the rest of the shifter
population. To be chosen is an honor to the family and community.” She
remembered her parents’ happiness when her oldest brother Reme had been chosen
out of their entire pride. Celebrations went on for days until her brother
finally left for training.

“Hmm.” Nob tapped his chin. “If this council takes your
strongest warriors then who is left to protect the families?”

“Every group is patrolled by someone appointed by the
regional sheriff. The more people, the more shifters appointed. Plus, we learn
to get along with different types of shifters and have more communication
between all of us. It’s protected us from human detection so far.”