The Goodnight Kiss Page 11

  “Sarah. I want to know how to bring her back.”

  He stills in mid swipe. “You can’t.”

  “You said I have all this power I could tap into. Another fairy out there somewhere could—”

  He shakes his head rapidly and water spatters my pajamas. “Not over life and death.”

  “Well, who brought me back?”

  “It’s different, you were an immortal made mortal. Sarah was just a mortal.”

  I get in his face. “Sarah was not just an anything and her life was cut short.”

  To his credit, he looks abashed. “Apologies. I didn’t mean to insult your friend.”

  “So, who did it? You said the Fates took charge of me. Were they involved?”

  “In a way,” he hedges.

  I put my hands on my hips, ready to chew him out when there is a knock on my bedroom door, followed by Chloe’s raised voice. “Nic?”

  I curse and wave at Aiden. “Shoot. I need to deal with her.”

  He opens his mouth, most likely to argue and I add, “Don’t move.”

  I slip through the bathroom door and shut it behind me and then stride to the bedroom door. Chloe stands there holding a tray. Her scent is sharp, like licorice, which informs me that she’s feeling apprehensive. She frowns and studies my pajamas and obvious bed head. “I thought I heard the shower going.”

  “Just waiting for it to warm up. Is that for me?” I gesture to the tray.

  She nods. “You didn’t eat anything last night.”

  It’s apparent she’s gone out of her way. There are doughnuts and Danish from the bakery in town as well as fresh fruit, whole grain toast with jam and coffee. My stomach is in knots, but Aiden will appreciate the meal. I take it from her and mutter thanks.

  “Addy needs me at the clinic. You’ll stay in the house?”

  “Are you asking if I’m going to go hunting again?”

  She rolls her eyes and offers a self-deprecating grin. “Subtle, huh?”

  “I have nowhere to be.”

  She turns and then hesitates. “About last night. It’s not that we don’t trust you. And Addy didn’t mean what she said.”

  It’s a struggle not to flinch at the remembered words. More trouble than you’re worth.

  “We’re just so worried about you,” Chloe finishes.

  “You didn’t believe me.” I wrap my arms around myself. “Neither of you.”

  “We want to. You had such a rough start in life and you’ve had so much to deal with, what with your ability and all. And losing Sarah can’t be easy. I know what it’s like to lose someone close to me.”

  I look away from the naked pain on her face. If my plan works, I won’t have lost her for much longer.

  Her tone brightens. “Will you come by the clinic later? Those pesky files are stacking up again.”

  I force a smile. “Maybe. Thanks again for breakfast.”

  “Anytime kid.” She pats me once on the shoulder and then picks up a cat carrier and leaves.

  I go to the window, watch her load the cat and then climb into the truck. Only when the dust has settled do I set down the tray and return to the bathroom to find Aiden in the same position as when I left. Exactly the same position, fingers clenched around the towel at his waist, lips parted as though he flash froze that way. Something is very off.

  “What’s with you?” I ask.

  He doesn’t even blink.

  What sort of game is he playing? “Aiden, tell me what’s going on.”

  “You told me not to move,” he huffs the words out like a puff of air, his lips tight as though fighting some sort of invisible hold. “So, I can’t.”

  Not possible. “You mean, you have to do whatever I say?”

  He doesn’t budge but he glares at me in pure exasperation.

  “Move now,” I say, feeling odd. “Any way you want.”

  He releases a breath and sags a bit. “Thanks. And to answer your question, not whatever you say. It’s whatever you command. If you order me to stop breathing, I’ll have to do it.”

  I stare at him, uncomprehendingly. “How? Why?”

  He shakes his head. “It’s a long story. Do I smell food?”

  “Breakfast. The house is empty. Go—,” I was about to say go help yourself, but rephrased before the words come out as an order. “You can help yourself.”

  He sends me a sheepish smile that conveys his gratitude. “Thanks. I’m starving.”

  Needing a minute to myself, I wait until he leaves the bathroom and turn on the water in the sink. How many times did I inadvertently command him since we met? I remember his hasty exit from the truck. I had ordered him to get out, hadn’t I? He didn’t want to go, it had been pouring rain, but I’d commanded him. And he’d been forced to obey.

  As my lady desires.

  There had been other times, too. He’d dropped my journal like it was hot when I’d told him to put it back.

  The dream—memory? —of the two of us in bed on that lazy spring morning comes roaring back. As her highness commands.

  Oh, no. Oh shit.

  Though my stomach is empty, bile churns up. I lunge for the toilet and fall to my knees, retching.

  He was my consort. My lover. That’s how I—the me in the dream—had thought of him. Like a possession. A belonging. A well-earned prize. Had I freed him from those iron fetters only to enslave him in another way? Did I put some sort of mystical compulsion on him, something so strong that it outlasted my first lifetime?

  No wonder he’d grinned when I told him I was asexual. After our previous relationship, it must be a relief to know he won’t be forced to...service me.

  If it’s true, I am no better than those I hunt.

  I flush and sag against the wall, banging my head softly against the plaster. What a mess.

  A soft knock on the bathroom door. “Nic? You okay?”

  “Fine.” My voice comes out as a croak. “Just going to brush my teeth. Do...whatever.”

  I squeeze a quarter of the tube of pale blue toothpaste out and brush my teeth thoroughly. Then floss. Then chug half the bottle of mouthwash. The overload of spearmint does nothing to settle my squishy stomach, but at least my mouth feels clean, even if nothing else does.

  I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I need to ask him about it, long story or not. A niggling voice in the back of my head insists I should plot a way to use this new discovery to my best advantage. If I tell him to leave me alone forever, he’ll have to do it. Problem solved. If I order him to help me find a way to resurrect Sarah, he won’t fight me on it.

  But can I really do that? Force him to do things he doesn’t want to do? My insides twist again. I brace my hands on the sink and hold my own gaze in the mirror.

  “You,” I tell the blonde girl staring back at me, “Are not a rapist.”

  Saying it aloud makes me feel a bit steadier. I take a deep breath and repeat the statement.

  Another tap on the door, followed by the rattle of a handle. “What’s going on in there?”

  “Keep your pants on,” I bark, and then instantly regret it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

  I open the door to find a grinning Aiden toying with the waistband of the sweats. “Does that mean you want me to take my pants off?” he asks, thumb tracing along the elastic band of said pants suggestively.

  “No!” I bark and then shut my eyes. “I mean, I’d appreciate it if you wear them, but go ahead and do whatever you like. It’s your choice.”

  His grin widens. “You’re really freaked out about this, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am! I could kill you by accident.”

  He throws his head back and laughs. It’s a full-throated guffaw that seems to come from deep within him.

  “Stop that,” I snap, but instantly regret it when the sound breaks off. “Sorry. What I mean is, what’s so funny?”

  There’s a sparkle in his leaf green eyes. “You don’t see the delicious irony? You’ve been toying with the idea of
killing me since you first saw me. But now you’re afraid you might do so by accident?”

  Heat crawls up my neck and I stare at the carpet, not wanting him to see the confirmation in my gaze. “I never seriously would have gone through with it unless you’d attacked me or someone helpless. That’s my rule.”

  Aiden curls one large finger beneath my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his own. “One, you won’t kill me by accident. So, get that out of your head. And two, since when does a single life matter so much to you?”

  If there’d been any harshness or accusation in his words I might have used my newfound ability and told him to literally go kick rocks. There is no condemnation in his voice, only curiosity.

  He’d promised me honesty and, after all I might have put him through in my last life, I feel the need to return the favor. “Since Sarah.”

  He nods as though he understands. “You asked before about a way to bring her back. Do you still want to know how?”

  My heart flutters in my chest like a fledgling bird ready to leave the nest. “There’s really a way?”

  He nods. “Yes. The magic is beyond you, beyond even the Fates. And there’s a steep price.”

  “But you know someone who can do it?” I ignore his warnings. There’s no price I won’t pay for Sarah’s return.

  “I could tell you about it. While we eat.” He offers me a hand and after only a brief hesitation, I take it. His calloused palm scrapes against mine and again that sense of connection sweeps through me. With his free hand he balances the tray and we head to the dining room table together

  Aiden sets the tray down. He releases his hold on me only to pull out a ladder-back chair. It’s such a civilized gesture, almost foreign in my everyday world. Not to mention totally out of character with a being that spends most of his time running naked through the woods. I murmur thanks and sit and then wait for him to settle across the big farm table. I want to know about our relationship before—his relationship with my previous self—but am unsure how to ask. And though I am eager to discover what we need to do to retrieve Sarah, I’m hesitant to say anything that might come across as a command. What do normals discuss over breakfast? I study the still full pastry box and pour myself a cup of coffee. “I’m surprised there’s any food left.”

  He feigns an indignant expression, which contradicts the air of mischief. “Did you think I’d eat you out of house and home?”

  I answer with a shrug and attempt to match his bantering tone as I pass him the coffee carafe. “Well, I did set a wolf loose in our kitchen.”

  “I’m not without manners. Except when ordered to be so.” A secret smile steals across his face.

  Not touching that one with a ten-foot pole. “Were you born a wolf? Or a man?”

  The smile vanishes, and his expression grows a little darker, a cloud passing over the sun. “Neither. I was born a god.”

  I blink. “A god? As in all powerful, omnipotent, religious deity?”

  “Not exactly.” He offers me the pastry box and I snag a strawberry Danish.

  I consider what I’ve seen him do. “Either you were a shape shifting god, or one with an affinity for wielding fire. And Aiden is a Gaelic name.”

  One corner of his mouth twitches up. “Very good. It means little flame. That’s not the name I was born with, but I took it as my own. Fire wielding is in my blood, so it seemed appropriate.”

  “How did you become,” I have no words to accurately describe him and settle for a vague, “What you are now?”

  “It was a punishment.” Anticipating my next question, he adds. “Not for anything I did.”

  “Then what—?”

  “In order to bring Sarah back,” he interrupts, his tone more forceful than I’ve heard. “We need to talk to a giant. And it just so happens that I know one.”

  “A giant?” Though it’s exhausting repeating everything he says, I can’t seem to break the habit.

  “Giants are the oldest creatures in the world and they have knowledge that no one else does.”

  I nod slowly. “So where do we find a giant?”

  “Beyond the Veil.”

  At my blank look he elaborates. “Magic is hidden from the human world by an invisible magical cloak. It’s transparent, separating the world you know from Underhill, the realm of the fey and other magical creatures. The Veil originally protected the humans from being wiped out entirely but in recent years it has also kept magic from discovery by humankind. That’s why there aren’t a thousand videos of fairies and shape changers and other magic wielders online.”

  “Where did it come from?”

  He shrugs. “It’s always been there, undetectable unless you know what to look for. It’s light and moveable and ever changing. Think of it like a curtain blowing in the breeze.”

  Instantly I recall that dream again. The soft gusts of air scented with spring. His hands exploring my body. I survey him closely. Had his word choice been deliberate? Did he somehow know about the dream? He doesn’t look as though he’s needling me, but he keeps his emotions in check.

  I shift in my suddenly uncomfortable seat and set down my uneaten Danish. “So, how do we get to the other side of this magical barrier?”

  “With use of an In-Between.”

  “A what?”

  “A space that is partway between this world and Underhill, like a fold in the fabric of the Veil. A place of transition. If you can shrink us small enough we can look for a fairy ring or we can wait until midnight. In the heartbeat between one day and the next, the entire world becomes an In-Between as though the fabric of the Veil parts.”

  “What about your house?” I ask as something snaps into place. “Is it an In-Between, too?”

  “Yes. It’s a direct passage from the heart of the Unseelie Court.” He reaches for the last slice of toast. “But it’s not the best idea.”

  “Is that why you warned me off when I showed up there?”

  Aiden nods. “It’s an official channel and leads directly to the court. All crossings are monitored. We still don’t know which faction was after you and the Hunt is still on my trail. We’re better off flying under the radar. Aren’t you hungry?” He gestures to the forgotten Danish.

  I shake my head and push the plate across the table. “You can have it if you want. So, fairy ring or midnight are the only real choices?”

  He nods but doesn’t take the pastry. “I recommend the fairy ring. We won’t risk passing by the Hunt and it’ll be good for you to practice borrowing abilities.”

  With the bonus that we would be gone before Chloe and Addy came home. “All right. How long will we be gone?”

  He hesitates. “Time moves differently in Underhill, not anything steady you can clock. We might be gone for what feels like a few days, only to discover that centuries have passed.”

  My mouth falls open. “Centuries?”

  A solemn nod. “The world might look very different on this side of the Veil when you come back. Are you sure you want to do this?”

  I swallow, my throat suddenly bone-dry. Centuries. I could save Sarah, only to return her to a world she won’t remember, all her family and friends long since turned to dust. Although in the case of her stepfather, that’s a bonus.

  “There’s more,” Aiden adds quietly. “You’re safe here. Hidden. No responsibilities beyond your own life. It’s what the old you, the Nicneven I knew before, wanted most of all. The freedom to live without court demands or intrigue bogging her down.”

  I thought of Addy and Chloe’s reaction last night, of how they didn’t believe me when I told them I hadn’t killed Joe. They’d been dismayed at the thought, at the same time they were ready to swoop in and help hide the evidence. More trouble than you’re worth. Maybe it would give them a measure of peace to live without the responsibility of cleaning up after me for a few—hundred—years.

  I hadn’t done what I could for Sarah before and she’d paid the price. She never had the chance to leave our small mountain town the way
she’d always dreamed, to see the world. I owe her. “I need to do this, whatever the cost.”

  Aiden leans back in his chair and nods once. “Then pack a bag. I’ll go find our exit.”

  I PACK ALL THE PROTEIN bars from the cupboard, about a week’s worth for me, a day’s for Aiden, and the remaining candy from the nightstand stash. A change of clothes which I squeeze into a zippered plastic bag to keep watertight and free from potential melting chocolate stains. A spare toothbrush and toothpaste, hairbrush and a bar of soap. Plus, a tiny First-Aid kit. I have no idea what conditions will be beyond the Veil, but I’ve always been fastidious and don’t plan to “rough it” any more than necessary.

  Essentials packed, I add a small framed photo of me and Sarah from last summer. Chloe had taken it, though we hadn’t known it at the time. We were lying on beach towels, side by side at the lake. Sarah had on her cat-eye sunglasses and I wore a Carolina Panthers ball cap. Though I can’t recall what we’d been talking about, both of our faces are animated, full of life.

  We’d be that way again if I have anything to say about it.

  I pick up the pink fuzzy diary and hold it for several long moments. Leaving it behind feels like a mistake. The aunts will tear my room apart for any clue to where I’ve gone. They will certainly find this and most likely destroy it. Part of me desperately wants to pack it, to have it with me. But we need to travel light and I don’t want to risk losing it.

  In the end I dig a hole beneath my bedroom window and bury it several feet underground, then set a potted rosemary bush on top.

  Task complete, I take one last look around the room. Without conscience thought I pull the copy of Norse myths from the shelf, the same one Aiden frowned at last night. Before I can question the impulse, I shove it in my backpack.

  “All set?” Aiden appears as I’m cinching the strings. Again, there is no noise from his footfalls, as though he pads on wolf feet even while in human form.

  I nod and pull the pack over my shoulders, so my hands will be free. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  “Several. Spring is the best time for fairy rings, what with all the restless fairies crossing through the Veil, hunting for food or entertainment.”