Kelpie (Come Love a Fey) (19 page)

Breaking
away, he trailed kisses across my throat and downward.  His big hands pushed
down the straps of my shirt and his hot mouth found my breast.  I arched my
back and raked my fingers through his hair, urging him on.

Leith
pulled back and helped me get rid of my clothes.  He pulled me to him and I
marveled at the feel of his hard, smooth body against mine.  I trailed a hand
downward and he moaned softly as I grasped him.  He nuzzled at my neck and
slipped a hand between my legs, not noticing my surprise. 
Horse
, I
reminded myself wryly, the man was a
horse
.

He
bore me backward and I wrapped my legs around him in invitation.  He kissed me
deeply and began to press himself home.  I moaned and bit my lip to keep from
crying out.  He was just so big.  He wrapped his big hands in my hair. 
Carefully holding himself still, he looked into my eyes. 

“I’ll
be as careful as I can,” he promised, his voice tender. 

I
arched my hips in answer, urging him on, and he slowly slid inside.  Content
that he hadn’t hurt me, he began to move, slow and deep.  I answered his
thrusts with wild abandon.  He was both tender, and urgent.  I felt as though
something inside me had finally woken up.  My body responded to his in a way I
had never thought possible.  Our soft moans echoed across the water, and I
called his name to the sky.

*****

I
must have dozed off.  I lay in the warm sun with my eyes closed.  Insects were
calling in the trees- a soft, chirring buzz.  A warm breeze caressed my face,
making a shushing sound as it moved through the leaves above my head.  I felt
the tickling brush of the long grass across my arm but for some reason I was
unable to move.  I had the niggling thought that there was something important
I should be doing right now.  I tried to remember, but the thought danced just
out of reach.

I
kept chasing the thought around my bliss-filled brain, and gradually began to
hear the rumble of masculine voices.  That’s right; Leith and I had been lying
in the sunshine, talking, when a man appeared from the woods.  How had I fallen
asleep at such a strange time?  I tried to open my eyes and sit up.  My heart
gave a lurch when I found that I couldn’t move.

The
voices came into focus, and I recognized Leith’s deep bass, along with a
lighter voice I had never heard before.  I couldn’t hear what Leith had said,
but he sounded angry.  “She’s fine,” the strange voice was saying.  “She merely
sleeps.  I wanted to ensure that our conversation was private.”

I
strained to move, to tell them that I could hear them just fine.  Nothing
happened.  The warm breeze touched my face again and a small sense of calm
washed over me, replacing the rising panic of a moment before.

“Why
do you remain in the human world?”  The man’s light voice was laced with
frustration.  “You are Overhill, but The Kelpie isn’t a house sprite.  Are you
seeking a mate?”  There was a deep snort and the man continued.  “The lord
could do better.  Such a common human isn’t suited to bear nobility.”

Leith
spoke in a flat tone.  “It’s none of your concern, Rabbit.”

There
was a pause before the other man spoke.  “Is she special in some way?  Humans
are only good for food or breeding.”

Leith’s
tone was casual, dismissive.  “The human isn’t important.  I merely owe her a
debt for her help.  I’m obligated to protect her, since I exposed her to this
world.”  He sighed.  “My days among the humans are tedious.  I welcome some
distraction.  Nothing more.”

A
sliver of hurt broke through my calm.  I was nothing to him?  The other man
seemed relieved.  “This is good.  I would hate to think you had developed an
affinity for the creatures.”  His tone turned serious.  “Master, some are
returning to the old ways.  This will make co-existence even more difficult.”

Leith’s
voice was deadly.  “That is their goal- to make it co-existence impossible.”

“We
must move soon.  Adhene and the rest of Underhill have no respect for those of
us who want nothing to do with their war.  Come back, My Lord.”  The other
man’s voice was pleading.

“The
Underhill search for me.  I can feel it in the rivers and streams, and their
magic hounds my footsteps.  I have yet to determine who is still loyal to me,
and who has been corrupted by Adhene.  I must stay away a while longer.”  There
was a hard edge to his voice.  “Though I wish for retribution, I won’t rush my
return.”

There
was a whisper of movement and a crackling energy like static electricity shivered
over my skin.  “Your staff, Lord.  You will need it,” he spoke with hatred,
“when you kill him.”

Leith’s
voice was quiet, a deadly whisper.  “He has grown powerful.  A noble won’t be
easy to kill.”

The
stranger sounded almost gleeful.  “The Underhill have grown in number, while we
dwindle, it is true; but they have less access to human flesh and blood, holed
up in Faerie.”  My skin crawled. 

Leith
seemed pleased.  “Thank you for bringing my staff.  It has been by my side for
centuries.  I felt lost without it.”

“It
has absorbed your magic, master; it was calling to be with you.”  There was a
rustle of movement.  “And master- if you don’t wish to be discovered, do not
shift.  It calls attention to you.  I could feel your magic, miles away.”

Leith
sighed, “Aye.”

I
heard soft footsteps pass by my head, and my eyes flew open.  I was once again
in control of my body.  I sat up and met the eyes of the stranger, a fey who
looked like a harmless middle-aged hiker.  He gave me a wicked look and a
wink.  Then he turned into a large brown rabbit, and disappeared.

I
stared after him.  He had known I wasn’t all the way under.  Had he let me hear
their conversation on purpose?  But why?

Leith
came to stand over me.  He was carrying a large wooden staff.  It didn’t look
like anything special, but I was beginning to understand that with the fey
appearances were almost always false.  The staff faded from my sight and Leith
sank down to sit next to me.

He
gave me a soft smile.  “I’m glad you’re awake.  Rabbit made you sleep.”

I
shrugged.  The warm breeze ruffled his dark, shiny hair.  It was always a
mess.  I reached out without thinking and brushed the hair back from his eyes. 
It felt like silk under my fingers.  “The stories all say you’re a monster.”

He
sighed and looked away over the water.  “I won’t tell you I’ve never killed a
human.”

I
continued to watch him.  “Children?  They say you steal children.”

He
gave a short laugh.  “They say that of all the fey.”

He
turned to me and tried to explain.  “All of our stories originated in darker
times.  These were times when humans struggled just to survive.  If you were a
parent in the dark ages, and your child drowned- who would you blame?  Yourself? 
Your God?  Isn’t it easier to blame some faceless monster?”

His
soft hair rippled in the breeze as I stared into those deep blue eyes.  There
were hints of gray and brown in them, like river water.  A big, warm hand took
mine.  His touch was casual, natural.  He had told me once that things around fey
tended to absorb their magic.  Did that include people?

I
tried to understand his struggle- and my place in it all.  “Your kind is dying
out.”  I gazed out over the water as I remembered all of the horrible fairy
tales.  I remembered his words to the stranger.  That I wasn’t important, just convenient-
a way to pass the time while he was stuck in the tedious human world.  “Is that
a bad thing?  To lose a race that is so terrible?”

He
didn’t seem bothered by my words.  His deep voice was soft and even.  “We are slowly
dying off, being poisoned, or torn from our homes.  Is it so bad to fight
against our murderers?  Is it wrong of the Underhill to be angry with the fey
who won’t take sides?”

The
wind ruffling his hair reminded me of the breeze over the shining little
ripples in the water.  Even my horrible suspicions couldn’t erase my attraction
to him.  I sighed.  “What will you do?  How do you solve the problem?  Extermination?”

He
studied my face.  “Maybe.”  My hand still rested in his.  How strong was he? 
Could he crush my hand if he wanted to?  Maybe put me under some kind of
enchantment, as rabbit had.  I understood now; I really was as fragile as I
felt.  Maybe more so.

“Perhaps
it will come to war.  Perhaps it already has.”  He was serious.  I felt like he
was testing me.

I
gazed out across the lake.  “What about exposure?”

He
took a deep breath.  “Can we trust the humans?  If they know we exist, know our
strange weaknesses, will that stop the genocide?”  His tone was sad.  “And what
will it cost the fey?  Not all of my people are capable of protecting themselves. 
Many of the wood sprites leave this world by the simple impetus of a human
cutting down their tree or uprooting their flower.  What do you suppose some
bug spray would do to Una?”

Fear
had settled in my heart.  I didn’t know what it would cost- on either side- but
I could imagine.  “What if it’s not complete exposure?  Your people could
always be political about it.  Show us the useful, pleasant, good-natured fey....” 
Not the ones who, say, ate human flesh for an example.

He
snorted.  “Half-truths?  Do you know how terrible some of my kind can be?”  His
eyes had darkened, reflecting his mood.  “Would you have me lie to your people
if it saves lives- yours or ours?”

“Does
it matter what I think?”  I felt lost in those deep pools of blue.

The
bright afternoon sun glinted on the water.  It was sparkling on the surface,
but cold and dark in the shadows, just like the fey- just like the world.  He
leaned forward, filling my world.  The moss was soft and springy under us.  Leith
held me so gently that I couldn’t bring myself to pull away.

“What
does Adhene want?”  My voice was a desperate whisper.

He
was direct.  “Extermination.  Complete annihilation.  The time is ripe to let
you destroy yourselves.”  I thought of all the ways humans killed each other. 
Wars, chemicals.  Biological warfare.  It would be so easy, if magic were on
your side.  A germ gets out here, a bomb goes off there, and the whole human
race is intent on destroying each other.

“Is
there some reason he’s hesitating?”

He
shook his head.  “Your kind and mine, though we would never acknowledge it, are
closely tied to each other.  The question is how to destroy mankind without poisoning
our own home.”  He raked his hand through the thick tangle of my hair.  “Some
would have us all die together rather than see the continued slow destruction
of our world.”

He
pondered for a moment.  “Biological warfare would have less fallout.  Most fey
are less susceptible to human disease.”

I
shivered.  “What if the fey were to come out in an organized way?  You could
have humans strategically placed to speak for the fey and defend them.  We
could guide legislature and help stop the pollution and the political fallout.”

He
nodded.  “It wouldn’t have worked two hundred years ago, but now- in this more
enlightened, global society- it might.”

I
sat up, out of his embrace.  I scooped up a handful of bumpy pebbles and cast
them into the water where they made ripples that grew and drifted out across
the water.  “Am I a part of this?  Have you been keeping me close all this time
so you could train me?  Use me somehow?”  I kept my eyes on the spreading
ripples, wondering if the disturbance I had created would reach the far shore.

He
shrugged.  “Why would I bother, with someone so useless?”

Fury
bubbled up in me.  He was right, of course, I wasn’t powerful or influential. 
I was-as he had said earlier- nothing.  I was useless.  I wrapped my arms
around my knees, wishing I had never heard of the fey.  They were all so cold. 
Maybe all fey really were evil.  Sadness and frustration enveloped me.

A
big, warm hand settled on my shoulders, pulling me back against his broad
chest.  He wrapped his long arms around me, trapping me.  “You are useless to
me in this struggle.  So how could I think of you as a tool?”  He was laughing
at me.  Fey and their twisted words.  Was he saying he was only with me because
he wanted to be?

I
clenched my teeth, frustrated.  He withdrew his arms and sat up straighter, a
comic expression of surprise on his sharp features.  He held out his hand in
front of me.  A battered leather sheath now rested there.  The worn wooden
handle of a rusty old knife was just visible inside.

“Take
this.”  His voice was wry.  I took the knife, curious. 

“It
too is useless to me.  Maybe it will be good company to you.”  He gave the
knife a wary look.  “It hasn’t come to me since I woke from my slumber.  I
hoped it had found a new home.”  He quirked an eyebrow at me.  “It has a mind
of its own.  It will only come when you need it, and most likely too late.”

I
shook my head.  How could I ever understand his world?  He was too different
from me.  Useless did not even begin to describe how I felt at that moment.  I
thought of the billions of humans on the planet- all equally powerless. 
Extermination.  We were all going to die.  And he was presenting me with a
rusty old knife that apparently appeared out of thin air whenever it felt like
it?