Under the Bridge (10 page)

“So what do you think, Ponyboy?” Ash seemed
amused, but watchful. There was the sense that he expected Eyrnie
to come up with something intelligent, if not accurate.

“I'd heard that the banshee serve the Winter
Queen,” Eyrnie said, undaunted. “Billy is a child of the Summer
King. Everyone knows that the courts are always at war.”

Billy raised her hand, trying to stop the
flow of privileged information. She wasn't even sure how Eyrnie
knew what he did.

He ignored her sputtering and rolled right
on. “I think the Winter Queen found out about her. She would love
to take away his child. Counting coup, you know.” He looked at
Billy's stunned face. Gently, he told her, “If she knows, you can
bet your father knows about you, too. He'd send somebody, if just
to make sure you lived.”

Billy shoved away from the table. She turned
her back on them and leaned on the counter, her hand fisted in the
back of her hair. He was right, and her own words haunted her. Fae
children were treasure, and the child of a king...well, was there a
more valuable prize?

She tried to control her breathing as she
heard Eyrnie say, “I think your father might have sent a troll to
watch over his daughter. That, or he's about to kill you now.”

There was a short silence. White-faced, she
whirled to stare at Ash, but he was regarding Eyrnie thoughtfully.
“He might have, but for one thing. I didn't kill Carrie when first
I saw her, because I'm of the age to take a mate. I was considering
her. Of course, the banshee put halt to that, but for the same
reason, the Summer King would not choose me. Kings do not mate
their offspring to trolls.”

He looked at Billy. “That's why I'm here.
There are no troll women, and humans are fertile, well able to
settle for a pretty face. Many are more than happy to abandon troll
offspring when they are born; they are not usually beautiful, you
see. If they survive pregnancy, we give the mothers gold and send
them on their way when the child is weaned.”

“If they survive. You mean some get eaten.”
She felt strangled; it was so hard to breath.

He looked regretful. “Mm. And young are so
very vulnerable without their mothers.

“Humans are the most practical choice,
though. Some of the fae can get...unhappy when something happens to
their kin. It's just one more difficulty to mating there.”

“And you thought you could mate with Carrie?”
she demanded, incredulous. “As if Maura would not care?”

He shrugged. “Carrie had an almost troll-like
appreciation for gold. She was in no hurry to part with what her
mother had given her as ransom. Did you not notice? She was found
still wearing the toll she owed me.”

She shook her head, trying to make sense of
his words. “Then you sent the banshee for her?”

He frowned. “You're not listening. I
explained this. She owed me her life; I thought, why shouldn’t she
become my bride, rather than my meal? I wanted her living.”

“She has a right to be shook up,” Eyrnie
pointed out. “We're throwing a lot at her.”

“But you’re a troll,” Billy sputtered in
protest. Her brain seemed to have developed a tick. “I mean….” She
waved her hand up and down him, at a loss for words. “Really.”

“She liked me well enough, when she thought I
was human. It’s the reason I chose this form,” he pointed out
reasonably. “It makes women want to mate. My face, my scent, my
form,” he looked directly at Billy. “It's irresistible.”

11. Irresistible

“Irresistible,” Eyrnie scoffed. “Welcome to
modern world, bub. A pretty face doesn't guarantee you'll get laid.
Some
girls have better taste.”

There was a glint in Ash's eye. “A challenge?
Careful. I am not new at this, young one.”

“Get out.” Billy cut across whatever Eyrnie
started to say. She'd simply had too much for one day. She needed
peace to process things, and she couldn't have it, not with both of
them camped at her table, arguing over stupid stuff. A girl was
dead, and they wanted to spar over who could get laid?

Eyrnie immediately lost his smile. “No. We
can't just let you alone. If I'm right about the banshee—”

“You might not be.”

“You don't know that.”

“I have wards.”

“There are ways around wards,” Ash said
calmly. “You are upset now, but it’s nothing to how you'll feel if
the banshee is killing you.”

She huffed out an aggravated breath. It was
just too much to deal with. They were too much. “You know what? You
do what you want. I just don't have the patience to deal with
pigheaded jerks anymore. You want to guard my yard? Fine, do
it—from the porch. Neither one of you is welcome in here
tonight.”

“Cool,” Eyrnie said, not the least offended.
“I'll stake out your lawn tonight.” As a pooka, he didn't need
sleep, and his stallion form was powerful. She might not want to
admit it, but she couldn't ask for a better bodyguard.

Ash seemed thoughtful. “This could be
amusing. I'll stay and watch—from the porch,” he added in response
to her dark look. Judging from his small smile, he seemed to have
regained his sense of humor.

“I don't need two of you,” she grumbled, but
she was sick of arguing. They ignored her anyway.

She went out to check on her bantams. The
gardens and woods behind her house were peaceful, still. If a
banshee had been haunting them, she'd have known it.

The odds were that the banshee, if it were
hunting her, would try to get her alone. They didn't like to expose
themselves to large numbers of people, for a crowd could overcome
even a banshee.

Banshees were stealth hunters, and they
gained power by stealing the voices of their victims. Their voice
could cause ears to bleed, and they flew on a storm wind. The
Winter Court used them as assassins, and they answered to no one
but their queen. From what she'd heard, they were very hard to
kill. Decapitation or fire was the only way she knew.

Rain was still spitting, and it seemed to be
getting worse, so she headed back inside to make a new pot of tea.
Eyrnie was at the kitchen table, his books spread before him. He
looked up and patted the chair next to him. “Here, have a seat.
I'll fill you in on what you missed today.”

She sent him a look of annoyance as she
prepared some white rose and mint for the tea. “I quit, remember? I
don't need to do homework.”

His face turned grave. “You've already paid
for this semester. Regardless of what you do later, you'll regret
not seeing it through.”

She snorted. “What can I do with one
semester? It's a waste of time.” He'd struck a nerve, though. She
was uneasy about her choice to drop out, and she'd always respected
Eyrnie's smarts. Better yet, he had common sense, which was not a
quality necessarily coupled with intelligence. Plenty of smart
people did dumb things; Eyrnie was rarely among them.

Sensing her indecision, he patted the seat
next to him. “It'll take your mind off things. Besides, I made
popcorn.” He grinned slyly, assured of victory.

That sealed it. Eyrnie's Parmesan-dill
popcorn was fantastic. Muttering about being bribed, she took a
seat. “Just don't get used to it. I'm only here for the popcorn,”
she warned him.

He smirked and slid the textbook where she
could see it, too. “I feel so used.”

It was late when she got to bed. A glance
outside had proved that Ash was still there, seated in the rocking
chair on the porch. It disturbed her when he did stuff like that;
she didn't want to see him as domestic, normal. Safe. He was not
safe.
Trolls
were not safe.

Sighing, she changed into the shorts and tank
top she wore to bed and gratefully closed her eyes. Thanks to
Eyrnie, her head was full of homework. He might pretend to be
casual about some things, but he'd known just what she needed to
help her sleep. She would not be lying awake tonight, counting the
hours until dawn.

When she closed her eyes and drifted off, she
found herself back at the dark lake. Surprised, she stared at it.
Eyrnie had summoned her here? Wasn't he supposed to be patrolling
her yard?

The liquid metal lake rippled as a man's head
broke the surface. Eyrnie opened his eyes as he cleared the lake,
his dark gaze fixed on her. A gleam of red shown in his eyes, then
sunk out of sight. He'd never come to her dreams in human form
before.

Not that he seemed completely human tonight.
His usual glamour was gone, revealing his true self. He seemed both
older and wilder, a true reflection of his animal self.

As his body rose above the water, she could
see he wore no shirt, leaving his well-muscled chest bare. His
pants were dark, possibly leather? Hard to tell in the half-light,
but she had no trouble noting the miles of abdomen revealed by the
low rise. The boy was ripped.

As he stepped onto dry land, she noted his
feet were also bare. “Dressed casual tonight, are we?”

He flashed a white grin and joined her on her
rock. It was a close fit. A deep breath and his arm would touch
hers. “This is what I usually wear. Haven't you looked? I didn't
see the need for glamour here.”

She blinked. He wandered around in that? All
year? How stupid would she seem if she admitted she hadn't looked
past his glamour since childhood? “Bet it gets breezy in the
winter,” she said weakly.

He laughed. “I'm not human, remember? Though
I have worn a shirt a few times.”

She frowned at him. “Shoes? You kept
complaining about outgrowing them.”

He cast her a slyly chiding glance. “I hate
shoes. That was just cover conversation for the humans. Once I
figured out you weren't paying attention, it made for a good
joke.”

“Very funny.” She frowned at him. “You know
it's easier to see things as everyone else does. I don't want to be
the only one staring at shadows.” She'd been ignoring things since
she was a child. It had become such a habit that she had ceased to
truly
see
. That hadn't bothered her until now.

He looked out at the lake. “You don't see
past Ash's glamour, either.” When she didn’t respond, he looked at
her gravely. “He wants you, Bianita.”

She shook her head. “He was after Carrie.”
She wanted to chide him on the use of her given name; it was too
intimate, but he’d known it since childhood. She couldn’t easily
take it back now.

“He forgot her the moment he saw you.” He
turned toward her. “Remember what he is. Send him away.”

She sighed. “He said the Summer King wouldn’t
approve of him courting me.”

“Believe me, he won’t let it stop him. He
challenged me for you.”

She sent him a dubious look. “When was
this?”

He frowned at her, clearly annoyed. “You were
right there. Tonight, at the table? You got mad and tried to kick
us out.”

“Much good it did me,” she muttered. “Not
that I noticed any chest pounding.” Though there had been something
in what they’d said…she couldn’t remember right now.

He shook his head. “Anyway, I can’t leave you
alone while he’s here. He’ll think I’ve given up.”

The rock was no longer comfortable. Growling,
she stood. “I’d like to get back to my regular nightmares, please.
You can change the scene now.”

He stood, unimpressed by her pointed stare.
“You can’t ignore this, Bianita.”

“Stop using my name,” she snapped. He was too
close, and she couldn’t seem to breathe. She turned away, but he
wouldn’t leave her alone. Faster than she could blink, he was
before her again. In the realm of dreams, he was as fast as
thought.

She was completely in his power, but she
couldn’t believe he would hurt her. Not her best friend.

She stared at him defensively, but he ignored
it. “I won’t leave you undefended,” he said, gravely tender. His
fingers trailed down her arm, leaving gooseflesh. She flinched
away, but couldn’t erase the sensation. It was just so weird; she’d
never thought of him like this. She resented being made to see him
as a sexual being. She didn’t want things to change, and he was
forcing it on her.

He stepped closer. “You’re fighting very
hard. You don’t have to. We could be very good together.”

Indignation saved her. Puffing up, she said
with every bit of outrage she could muster, “Eirnin Donncha
Gruagach! I know your
mother
. Don’t even think you’re going
to make a move on me.” He could use true names; so could she. And
pronounce them flawlessly. She didn’t even think he knew her full
name.

He stiffened. Mentioning his true name was
bad enough; bringing up his mother was playing dirty. He deserved
it, though.

His jaw worked, but he took the blow like a
man. “My mother likes you,” he said evenly. “She’d welcome you into
the family.”

She had momentum now, so she stalked him,
poking him in the chest. “Would she really? And did your mother
tell you to pursue me? Has she been dropping little hints,
Eirnin?”

“She is not in charge of my love life. Stop
that,” he said in warning, catching her finger. “You’re trying to
avoid this.”

“I’m going to avoid this,” Billy said
confidently. She knew him now. “Take me back.”

He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t tell her
no. “We’ll talk about this later, then. On equal ground.”

She didn’t say anything, unwilling to provoke
him. That would come later, when she was back in the real world.
She could defend herself there.

He looked at her, and the landscape changed.
There was no drama as she slid into more mundane dreams, but there
was an underlying theme of tension. By the time she woke in the
morning, she was in a terrible mood, and eager to peel back the
covers.

There were no gifts this morning, and she was
grateful. She didn’t need any more mysteries at the moment.

The shower ran lukewarm, and she growled at
it as she quickly washed her hair. If the hot water heater were
going, she’d have to start warming water for baths on the stove.
She couldn’t afford to fix it for at least another three weeks.