The Changeling Soldier (2 page)

She parked the car and got out, grabbing her bag and book of samples and sketches. While carrying her studio around was a pain, she didn’t like having people come to her home. It was hers, the one place where she didn’t have to pretend to be mortal.

Humans. So like fairies and so…not.

She paused a moment in the sun and tried to soak up the heat. The thermal underwear, long sleeves and a light-flowing shirt dress with fleece-lined leggings were barely keeping her warm. Hopefully Melody would think she was at the cutting edge of fashion.

Then she put on her best courtier smile, went up the three steps and rang the doorbell. She was almost expecting a maid to answer. Instead, a tall man with short blond hair and icy blue eyes opened the door. Her composure shattered and she almost stepped back and tumbled down the steps.

Changeling.

Ella blinked, but there was no mistaking the man’s fairy blood. Who was he, and why was he here? She always did her research and she hadn’t been expecting anything fairy. Melody had dark brown eyes—definitely no fairy blood in her.

She masked her surprise and smiled at him. He was attractive, but changelings always were because of their fairy blood. Her smile widened. It had been a long time since she’d crossed paths with one. What was his gift? Changelings always had a small magic, something specific. Long ago those gifts had been treasured and changelings revered…then they’d been feared and persecuted. These days she doubted if half the changelings in the world even knew they had one fairy parent. Did he know what he was?

The words were on the tip of her tongue before she remembered she was supposed to be a human dress designer. Unfortunately he’d be able to see straight through the glamour that made her pale yellow eyes a much more human hazel color flecked with gold.

A frown flickered over his face as he looked at her before he seemed to shake off his surprise. She looked him in the eye, daring him to say something and acknowledge what she was or look away confused.

He held her gaze without blinking, so bold and sure of himself. Curiosity spiked in her blood. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved nor spoke. Then he blinked and the spell was broken.

“Can I carry something for you?” His voice was a little rough, and it sent a rush of warmth down her spine, waking desires that she hadn’t indulged in a while.

It took a moment for her to recover. She’d been sure he’d recognized what she was. Was she mistaken in thinking he was changeling? Perhaps he had a fairy grandparent, not a parent. If that were the case he’d simply be a pretty human.

She gifted him with a dazzling smile laced with magic, the kind that brought human men to their knees—or at least made them ask for her number. If he was changeling, the magic would have no effect.

He remained standing in the doorway with a cautious smile forming on his lips. He knew what she was…he just wasn’t going to admit that he knew. How intriguing. She’d love a few moments, or days, alone with him. Changelings were always fun. Not that she had time for fun in the mortal world right now.

“Thank you.” Then she handed over the heavy bag of full of fabric samples, which he took as though it weighed nothing. But she noticed the curve of his bicep beneath his shirt. Not just a pretty changeling in a suit. He’d look damn fine in breeches and lace with his hair brushing his shoulders. And even better in her bed wearing nothing.

The cool breeze of the air conditioning swept through the open door and over her skin raising gooseflesh beneath the layers of clothing. She was going to freeze in there. Perhaps the appointment wouldn’t take long. The idea of being in her toasty apartment and enjoying summer for a little longer was very appealing. Annwyn would be icy and her reception frostier. Fairies had long lives and equally long memories.

“Come in. Melody will be anxious to get started.” He stepped aside to let her pass.

Ah yes, Melody. The reason she was here. A man like him was wasted on a girl like her. She’d much prefer to be dressing, or undressing him. While she might not have time to dally, she could still squeeze in a few hours of fun. And she was sure he’d be fun. “Will you be her date for the event?”

The changeling sighed and nodded as if he considered it a trial worthy of the dashing Greek heroes of old. “Probably.”

She raised an eyebrow. That wasn’t the answer she’d been expecting. Plenty of human men would love to be in his shoes and Melody’s bed.

“I’m her brother. Isaac.” He stopped in the hallway and offered her his hand.

Brother. Even more interesting. Ella wrapped her fingers around his. His skin was warm, and his hand dwarfed hers. Once she’d been considered tall among mortals, now she erred on the side of below average height. He, however, was definitely tall. “Pleasure to meet you.”

His grip tightened for a moment and he gave her that look again, as if he wasn’t sure what he was seeing. She smiled, knowing her glamor wasn’t fooling him, yet wishing to know what he was thinking. A spark of heat traced through her cold blue blood. One last fling before going home? Fairies might be perfect lovers, but their performance was too carefully crafted. She much preferred mortals…especially changelings. She was going to miss parts of the mortal world, but not the ever present loneliness and the knowledge that she’d outlive all her mortal friends and lovers.

Isaac released her hand and shivered. “If it’s too cold in here for you, I’ll adjust the air conditioning. Just don’t tell Melody.” He gave her a wink.

Melody was obviously a little difficult. Good to know in advance. While Ella had spoken to her on the phone, in the flesh and in her house would be a different matter.

“Don’t tell Melody what?” A woman appeared in a doorway, all legs and long blond hair. The tiny shorts and high heels helped with the look. Heels, however, couldn’t make the shorts classy—no matter how beautiful the shoes were. And they were something to behold. Turquoise with beads and flowers, they looked like something that could have come from Annwyn. Not that fairies usually wore heels, as it was too easy to fall, or be tripped, and create a scene.

Ella bit back the sigh and reminded herself that starlets were the new royalty, and this was how she earned the money needed in the mortal world, but more importantly she loved the fabric and colors, the cut and fit of fashion. She always had. Even in Annwyn she’d been dressing the Queen and leading the trends.

“That you don’t need a new dress for every event,” Isaac replied easily, as if used to smoothing things over with his sister on a regular basis. Except for the dark honey-blond hair, they were nothing alike. Isaac had the sharp cheekbones and pale eyes that spoke of fairy heritage and drew the eye, while Melody was merely beautiful. Among the pretty people and other wannabe actresses, she didn’t stand out. Isaac, on the other hand, could have walked into any talent scout’s office and been snapped up at least for modeling, if not acting, before he’d uttered a word.

Melody gave a quick pout, then smiled. “I need to look the part of a successful actress. I need producers and directors to remember me, and not because I wore the same thing to last month’s charity event.” She looked at Ella. “Soldiers—they think everyone should wear a uniform. He just doesn’t get fashion.”

Ah, soldier. She flicked a glance at Isaac again. That fit; she could almost see him with a sword in his hand…except humans now used guns, not swords. It was a pity. Swordsmanship required a certain grace and athletic skill she’d once admired. “Home on leave?”

“Permanently. Ten years of service was enough.”

“Don’t be so modest. He’s got medals and all kinds of things. A real war hero.” Melody gushed as if she was proud of him, but Ella doubted that was the whole story. There was a tension between them.

“I was just doing my job.” He brushed past Melody and into the lounge room, where he placed her bag down. “Will that be okay?”

“Yes, that’s fine, thank you.” She didn’t even have to pretend to smile and be grateful. He was more intriguing with every breath. Perhaps after the power shift, when spring had returned to Annwyn, she’d come back and find him.

Then she remembered why she didn’t play around with mortals—at least not for any length of time. They died. Compared to them, she was immortal. At six hundred and seventy-three mortal years, she was young for a fairy. Well, maybe not young, but well into adulthood and at an age where she should’ve secured her power base and had an advantageous marriage or at least a profitable affair.

She doubted either would happen. Too many would wonder if she’d go insane like her father. At least he’d fallen from grace in spectacular style instead of merely being ousted by political maneuvering. That had also happened, and while she’d once hated the very mention of the name Verden ap Hollis, he’d simply taken advantage of a delicate situation. That hadn’t stopped her from toasting his downfall though when she’d heard the news.

“I’m so excited to see what you’ve brought!” Melody smiled, but it wasn’t natural. It was too wide and too bright. “Don’t you look chic even in this heat? I’m practically melting.”

Ella was pretty sure ice would have a hard time melting in here. It was freezing, like standing barefoot in snow. She wished she’d worn boots, but that would’ve looked odd in the middle of summer. Even the room was decked out in wintery shades of white and turquoise. Melody’s favorite colors or what some designer had told her to decorate with?

“I’m one of those cold-blooded people. I love the heat.” The lie rolled easily off Ella’s tongue. People weren’t actually cold-blooded like snakes, she knew that, but the expression suited her purpose. “Shall we get started?” She turned up her personality so it would match Melody’s. Attuning herself to her clients always paid off. She was aware of Isaac sitting in the corner of the room like a bodyguard.

“Don’t mind him.” Melody sat down on the white sofa. “He lives here as well as being my bodyguard and sometimes date.”

“Unless she gets a better offer,” he said without a trace of bitterness.

“Don’t be like that.” Melody twisted around. “Everyone loves you.”

“They like the stories you tell about me.” He picked up a book, signaling the end of the conversation.

Isaac was trying to read, but instead he watched as Melody and Ella pored over fabrics and sketches. They talked colors and laid pictures out with different bits of fabric. It was less interesting than what he’d thought it would be. The only redeeming part was Ella.

She was beautiful in a way that made it hard for him to look away. Something about her drew his gaze even though she wasn’t what he would’ve considered his type. Perhaps it was the way she’d looked at him with a hunger that hadn’t quite been disguised. There’d been a moment on the doorstep when he’d wanted to forget about his sister and get to know Ella better.

He glanced up from his book—it was less interesting than Ella. There was a grace in her movements that he admired, and even though she was petite, nothing about her suggested weakness. She seemed to be managing Melody without any drama. When Ella glanced his way he lowered his gaze and pretended to read without seeing a word.

Ella fingered her hair, nodding as she listened to Melody then she reached for more fabric. Her dark brown hair was cut short, pixie short, the way it framed her face made her seem quite delicate. Yet in that moment he’d touched her hand, the only impression he’d got was of cold and power.

He had no idea what that meant, maybe only that she was cold, which was why he’d offered to tweak the air conditioning. She’d looked extremely grateful. Sometimes the impressions he received were nothing important. Other times he knew moments before something bad was going to happen.

Psychic Isaac.
In the army, that had been shortened to Psychic. The first time his men had laughed off the warning even though he’d sworn something was up. Five minutes later they’d come under attack. After a couple more times, no one had doubted him. But it made him different.

He didn’t quite fit in, and those times when he got no glimpse of the future he was left feeling guilty. And then there were the looks from the other soldiers, like he should’ve known and done something. Or worse were the times he saw men die and couldn’t save them. Whatever he had didn’t work that way. He couldn’t change the future and he never knew more than thirty minutes in advance. Usually it was less.

Except with his dream.

It hadn’t happened yet. Maybe it never would. But he didn’t believe that, not when it was still unfolding and becoming more frequent. In daylight, when the dream was a fading memory, it was easy to brush aside thoughts of fairies. It was much harder in the dream when everything felt so real. He closed his eyes and was able to recall all the details as if it were a real memory; the weight of the sword and the crunching of his footsteps in snow.

The chill on his skin…and on Ella’s hand when he’d touched her.

There’d been a jolt when he’d touched her. Something more than just simple attraction.

A warning?

He opened his eyes and watched her for a moment. Something wasn’t right. And yet there was no tightening of his gut or the brush of impending danger over his skin, only a desire to get Ella alone. Something about her called to his blood. It’d been a long time since any woman had affected him so strongly. As he watched he was sure he wasn’t seeing everything. By the front door her eyes kept changing from brown to yellow as though he was seeing an illusion, but he wasn’t sure what was real. He’d brushed it aside…but an old memory snagged the edges of his mind.

He’d seen fairies as a kid, but they were diminutive and generally ugly. However, when he’d caught one it had become beautiful—sort of. It depended on how he’d looked at it, but he could see the ugly behind the mask. It had offered him a deal for its life and for a moment he’d been tempted. The idea of getting away from his mother’s boyfriend and out of the trailer park had been so tempting at age eight.

Then Melody had run up and asked him if he’d caught it. She wanted to see the fairy but couldn’t. The fairy had laughed and bitten him. He’d dropped it and let it go. That was the last time he’d played that game with Mel. The last time he’d admitted to seeing fairies to anyone. And the time he’d realized they were dangerous.