Authors: Suzanne McLeod

Tags: #Paranormal Romance

The Cold Kiss of Death (38 page)

BOOK: The Cold Kiss of Death

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A tear rolled down my cheek and I blinked, then before I could stop it another followed it, and another. I started to pull away, squeezing my eyes tight, my cheeks burning with the hot prickle of shame at giving into my stupid, unreasonable fear, but his arms tightened even more.

‘No, Gen,’ Finn said quietly, ‘let me hold you.’

I stayed, letting him hold me, letting the tears fall and listening to the steady beat of his heart while his hands gentled my back and his scent surrounded me. Gradually the tears stopped, and this time when I pulled away he let me, his hands up sliding to rest on my shoulders.

I rubbed my eyes and face and gave him a rueful smile as I briefly touched his damp shirt where it lay open at his throat. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to leak all over you.’

‘Hey, I’m happy to be leaked on.’ He lifted my hands and turned them over, frowning at the almost healed cuts and grazes on both my palms. ‘Want to tell me what’s the matter?’

‘It’s nothing,’ I said, slowly pulling my hands from his. ‘A ghost spooked me and—Well, you know ... that’s all.’

‘Don’t, Gen,’ he said, moss-green eyes dark and serious. ‘Don’t brush off what just happened. Talk to me.’

Talk to him?
Okay, that was what I’d told Grace I’d do, wasn’t it? And while I’d talked to him at Tavish’s, it had been about what had happened to me, and not about whatever our relationship was or wasn’t ... only knowing about the curse sort of changed things on the
relationship
front ... I looked around to see where I was. Pale wood and chrome furniture, sand-coloured carpet, a view out of the window over the cobbled expanse of Covent Garden between the Apple Market and St Paul’s Church: Finn’s office at
Spellcrackers.com
.

‘I’m not sure what to say,’ I said finally, crossing my arms. ‘Other than I’m tired. I had a hell of a night, on top of all this murder business there’s the
droch guidhe
, then this ghost jumps me and instead of behaving like a rational person, I do the frightened idiot act and run.’

‘Straight to me,’ he said softly.

Oh—
Oh, that didn’t sound good
. Not that I hadn’t enjoyed being held, or that I didn’t want him, but surely he couldn’t think that now the curse was out in the open - or rather, hanging around like an eager invisible matchmaker - that one little embrace meant I was going to choose him, could he? Didn’t he realise that right now I was even less sure about where I stood with him than I’d ever been before? That I needed time to sort things out in my head?

‘Of course, straight to you.’ I kept my voice even. ‘I was planning to talk to you about visiting the florist’s lad last night when the ghost did his scary jumping-out-at-me thing.’ And what a nicely ironic decision on the magic’s part, to bring me straight here so it could throw me into Finn’s arms. ‘That’s what happens when you use a’ -
much too
- ‘helpful magic door instead of the Underground.’

‘The magic didn’t bring you here just because it was convenient. ’ Finn caught my hands within his. ‘Gods, Gen, can’t you feel the magic, can’t you feel how it’s changed?

As he said it, I realised I could. The magic was humming quietly in the background, not sparking or urging, as it had between us before, but purring like a self-satisfied cat.

‘It’s not pushing us together any more’ - he raised our joined hands up and kissed my knuckles - ‘because it doesn’t need to. It knows there’s something between us. I told you before, it doesn’t happen like this with every fae. Why won’t you believe me?’

‘Why won’t I—?’ I took a calming breath; anger wasn’t going to help. ‘Finn, you’ve spent the last month keeping your distance when all you did before was keep asking me out. And you wouldn’t talk to me, and okay, I admit I wasn’t talking to you either, but ... it makes for a lot of confusion,’
and disappointment
, I added silently, stepping back out of his hold. ‘Then there’s all this stuff about the curse, and how every male fae in London thinks I’m hot to produce the next generation of ... whatever. And now I’ve found out about the prohibition that ended on my twenty-third birthday. From where I’m standing it looks like Tavish was first in line, and then when that didn’t work out, it was your turn.’ Crap, it sounded so depressingly calculated. ‘So you know, telling me that the magic isn’t like this for everyone doesn’t really make me feel very special, not when you take everything else into consideration.’

‘Hell’s thorns, Gen, it’s not like that—’

‘Then what is it like, Finn?’ I asked quietly.

‘Okay, yes’ - he pushed his hand agitatedly through his hair and rubbed his left horn - ‘I’ll admit the
droch guidhe
was part of the reason the herd put the money up for Spellcrackers and why I was the one to take over the franchise. I’m one of the youngest in the herd, Gen, and I’ve spent more time among humans than the rest, so when Tavish didn’t announce he was courting you after the allotted time, the elders picked me - but Gen, that doesn’t mean I didn’t
want
to do this—’

‘So I’m right,’ I said, trying to ignore the spike of hurt. ‘You were second in line.’

‘Gen, someone from the herd always was,’ he said, softly. ‘Among the lesser fae, the satyrs are stronger than the dryads or the naiads, always have been. I was just lucky it happened to be me.’ He held his hands out. ‘Then, okay, you didn’t seem quite as keen on the idea, but your magic kept calling to me, so I thought things would work out sooner or later - but then everything else started to happen and things got messed up.’

‘Messed up like you discovered I’ve got 3V and my father’s a vampire,’ I stated, hating the accusation in my voice, but still feeling rejected by how he’d withdrawn when I’d told him my secret, despite everything else.

‘No, messed up because I discovered you weren’t in control of the magic,’ he said, his own voice firm, ‘and between the magic encouraging you and the
salaich sìol,
and you not having dated recently, well, it probably meant you weren’t thinking straight.’

In other words, because I hadn’t had sex recently, I was supposed to be gagging for it and anyone would do. Fucking sidhe sex myth; it was the stupid reason behind most of my current problems.

‘And I didn’t want to take advantage,’ he finished quietly.

So Grace was sort of right about why he’d backed off; not that his ‘not wanting to take advantage’ made me feel any better, not now.

‘I admit the
salaich sìol
and your parentage came as a surprise, ’ he carried on. ‘The elders didn’t tell me about either, and I haven’t asked them if they even know. But as you said yourself, it’s not really relevant: you’re sidhe, and your child will have whatever genetics you want it to. It’s a choice the sidhe have always made when they breed with Others.’ A muscle twitched along his jaw. ‘All I was supposed to do was get your agreement to the child being satyr - which was okay when I thought you understood what was going on, but then I realised you didn’t, so I backed off.’

A hollow, empty feeling settled beneath my breastbone. I didn’t know if I wanted a Happy Ever After with Finn - or anyone else - right now, but I had wanted a chance at Happy for Now with him. But the whole curse solution thing turned all that upside down; Happy for Now didn’t work when it was my child-bearing ability he wanted and not just me. Not to mention it all sounded even more depressingly premeditated now - particularly the fact that the whole set-up with Finn and Spellcrackers had been organised by his herd so he’d be in with a shot at getting me pregnant. I stared out of the window, looking at the heavy, grey rain clouds darkening the October sky, locked the hurt and disappointment away and tried to look at it logically. Okay, with the curse hanging over their heads, I could understand why - hell, if breaking the curse involved just me, then I wouldn’t even have to think about it - but it would mean bringing a child into the world for something other than its natural purpose. The magic is capricious and fickle at the best of times; throw in a curse and who knew what grief the child would have to bear.

And none of it the child’s own choosing.

It wasn’t a decision to be taken lightly.

Or by a committee.

And yeah, the whole philosophising bit still didn’t stop me being as pissed off as hell about the broodmare part I was supposed to play. Or the fact that Finn had agreed to it all before he’d even met me—

‘Fuck, Finn.’ I curled my hands into fists. ‘Doesn’t it bother you that they pimped you out as a stud?’

‘I’m a
satyr
, Gen!’ he said, exasperated. ‘We’re fertility fae, it’s what we do! We court whoever the herd elders decide - that’s the way it is. But if I hadn’t wanted to do this, either before or after I met you, I could’ve said no; it’s not like I’m the only satyr in London.’ His face hardened. ‘And I’m not the only fae in London either.’

Yeah, and didn’t I know it, what with dryads chasing me, and the early morning wake-up call from Randy Ricou.

‘So what you’re telling me,’ I said slowly, ‘is that I have to choose.’

‘Yes.’

That didn’t leave any wiggle-room for doubt, did it?

‘Look, I want you to choose me, Gen.’ He clasped my shoulders, hope sparking in his eyes. ‘But I saw the way you looked at Tavish, so’ - his eyes turned flat and bleak - ‘anyway, whoever you choose, you need to do it soon, otherwise the dryads will try and make the choice for you.’

‘That’s not a choice, Finn, that’s a
fait accompli
.’

‘Exactly. That’s what I’m saying.’ His hands tightened almost painfully on my shoulders. ‘Once you’ve made your choice and it’s official, then the dryad problem will go away.’

‘No, you don’t understand; it’s not the dryads doing the kidnapping and whatever that’s the
fait accompli
, it’s the whole thing. Having a child should be
my
choice,
mine and the father’s
, not a group decision taken by people I’ve never even met who want me to pick out a magical sperm donor from a line-up. But none of you will give me that choice, will you?’

‘No,’ he said, quietly, desolation echoing in his voice. ‘Not when it means we die out.’

I pulled away from him and sat down, rubbing my hands over my face, a sick, frightened feeling in my stomach. I didn’t want this, didn’t want the responsibility. Why couldn’t it be someone else’s? Why me? But of course the answer was easy; it was only me because I happened to be handy, no other reason.

‘Gen,’ Finn said sadly, crouching down in front of me, ‘even if all of London’s fae did give you that choice, I’m not sure the magic would.’

‘What?’ I looked up, startled.

‘Why do you think it keeps pushing us together like this?’ He took hold of my hands and the magic hummed as if in agreement. ‘So far it’s just being ... helpful, but it could change, you know that. The magic wants to survive as much as any of us, and it’s not just the magic dying that’s killing us; if we
fade
, so will the magic.’

My mother had
faded
.

My father found my mother at a fertility rite, got her pregnant, and then after I was born, she’d lost so much blood, he couldn’t stop her from
fading
. Or so the story goes. I’d believed it as a child, but now I realised no sidhe would willingly agree to have a vampire’s child -
got her pregnant
was just a pleasant euphemism. And I was the result. And while I might be my father’s daughter, I was still the valuable commodity he’d been determined to produce when he’d raped my mother - still the valuable commodity he’d traded to a psychotic vampire.

It’s not a story that dreams of happy families are made from.

Or one that had ever made me want to have my own children, even without a curse to contend with. But if the magic decided to
encourage
me ... Even if London’s fae left me alone, I might not be able to trust myself to make the right choice, a prospect that terrified me even more than everything else.

I looked down at where he clasped my hands. ‘What about the child?’ I said softly.

‘It’ll be a child, Gen. It’ll be loved and cared for, whoever its father is. You’ll see to that.’ His expression turned hopeful again. ‘Can we at least talk about it, maybe try and work out where we go from here?’

Part of me wanted to, but another part knew Finn’s ‘where do we go from here’ was him asking for a decision about him. And I wasn’t yet ready to make that decision - not to mention the real question hanging over me: what would happen if the curse attached itself to the child? That wasn’t one Finn - or, I suspected anyone else, for that matter - could or would answer. And magic aside, while they’d all got it into their heads that a sidhe-born child would break the curse, I wasn’t convinced ... But no matter where that left me, Finn or any of them, it wasn’t going to be resolved here and now.

Now, I was here to ask about another child: Helen’s changeling child, in the hope that the answer would help me find the sidhe who’d murdered Tomas.

I pulled my hands from Finn’s and straightened in the chair. ‘What happened when you and Helen went to see the florist’s lad last night?’

‘Hell’s thorns, Gen! Why won’t you talk to me?’

BOOK: The Cold Kiss of Death

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