The Goodnight Kiss Page 21

  “Please,” I pant, gripping his wrist, right above that blasted contraceptive charm. “Please.”

  “As my lady desires,” he repeats, wickedness threading through his tone....

  I wake in the hammock, panting and on the edge of a cataclysmic orgasm. My thighs press together, my body overstimulated and strung so taut I feel as though my bones will snap like dry twigs.

  My blood pumps, my breasts tingle. Arousal. I’m in the throes of full-blown sexual stimulation and seconds from culmination. I want to finish it, to let the pleasure wash over me. I refuse to finish it.

  “Damn you Hel,” I huff. “What’s the point of these dreams?”

  Of course, there is no answer. Even if the halfdead guardian of the underworld can hear me, I doubt she would give me a reason for messing with my sleep.

  The book on Norse mythology lays open to the chapter I’d been reading before I dozed off. I pluck it up and set it on a nearby outcropping of rock, then strip my dress and wade into the water, not to bathe so much as to cool my body down.

  I dive deep, touch the sandy bottom at the center of the pool and then shoot back to the surface. Again. The water isn’t cold enough to break the haze of lust but at least I’m no longer on the ragged edge.

  On the third dive, my mind has cleared enough to think about something other than the pleasure I’ve denied myself. Like the fact that I’d been fucking untold members of the Unseelie Court, trying to sustain some sort of fey legacy. That I’d threatened Aiden with being replaced in my bed if he didn’t do the job first. Uck.

  No wonder I’m asexual this time around. Had more than enough of the beast with two backs during my last go.

  Even more difficult to admit. I didn’t like the woman I had been. Utterly helpless without her sword or magic. I couldn’t even make bread. My thought processes were too narrow, rigid and unbending. And I’d thought about ordering Aiden to impregnate me against his wishes.

  Just no.

  I break the surface again. Someone is standing at the edge of the water. Naked.

  “Aiden,” I gasp and almost go under in my hurry to pivot away from him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Sorry,” he says, sounding not at all sorry. “Fern said I should ask if you want breakfast.”

  “Naked?” I face the waterfall, sure his keen gaze can see everything through the clear water.

  “Well, you could go down naked if you wanted. Give the old gals a thrill. Given their preferences I’m sure they’d appreciate it. I know I would.” Amusement laces his tone.

  “No, I mean why are you naked?”

  “Can’t find my sweats.” There’s a splash. “And I really need a bath.”

  “Wait a second,” I choke, on water or my own saliva, I’m not sure which.

  “I’d come in as the wolf, but you complained about the scent last time.” He’s enjoying himself, the beast. “Besides, it doesn’t matter because you’re not attracted to me, right?”

  “Right.” The word comes out thin and reedy. Of course, now I remember being attracted to him and that in no way gives me the squicky sensation that I thought it would. The memory of his lips against my neck, his hand working between my legs....

  I risk a peek over to the left, where I can hear him cutting through the water like a shark. Power and grace radiate from those sleek muscles. Godlike, I’d thought in the dream and godlike he is in appearance, in motion.

  A cursed god. One that sees me as his mate.

  I tread water as he laps the perimeter of the pool, disappearing for a few seconds beneath the waterfall and then reemerging and continuing to swim.

  I want to say something, there are so many questions that only he can answer. Yet between the intimacy of the night before and the erotic dream that shames even as it titillates, I can’t seem to find the words.

  “You’re quiet.” Aiden pauses after his second lap. “Is everything all right?”

  “I should be asking you that.” It’s a remark meant to cover my own discomfort.

  He pushes dark wet hair out of his face, tilts his head to the side as though to indicate I haven’t fooled him. “I’m fine, thanks to you. Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure,” I strive for nonchalance, but fail epically.

  He moves closer, though there are still several spans between us. “How did you know what to do? With me?”

  I shake my head. “I didn’t, not really. It’s not like there was a set of instructions tattooed on you or anything.”

  Aiden frowns. “You weren’t afraid to challenge him though? The wolf?”

  I splash water at him. “What a stupid question. Of course I was afraid. I’ve been nothing but afraid since I came here and the more I remember, the more terrified I am.”

  Aiden’s staring at me as though he’s never seen me before. “You’ve remembered more?”

  “Bits and pieces. Please turn around so I can get out.”

  He does as I request. “Tell me what else you remember. Specifically.”

  I scurry from the pool and over to the hammock. There’s no towel so I wrap myself in the afghan as I consider how to answer. “Freda and Nahini. Riding with The Hunt.”

  “That makes sense.” In the pool, Aiden’s still facing the waterfall. “The Wild Hunt was always the most important part of your life. You sacrificed much for it, for them.”

  “You sound bitter,” I observe, slithering into my dress.

  “Of course I’m bitter. If not for The Hunt you never would have—,” he breaks off abruptly.

  My heart pounds. “Never would have what?”

  “Nothing.” Aiden heads for the shore and strides out with none of the modesty I’d experienced.

  For once I’m not put off by his nudity and stride to catch his wrist. “What, Aiden? What did I do?” My gaze travels to his arm, to where I remember the contraceptive charm from my dream.

  It isn’t there.

  Dawning horror. I look up into those forest green eyes, see the flash of betrayal there, the wounded pride. I’d thought about it, the old Nic had. She’d wanted an heir, wanted Aiden to father it.

  His free hand goes to my face, though he doesn’t touch me. “You remember that, too. Don’t you?”

  “Not all of it. Just a single discussion.”

  He laughs, shakes his head. “Discussion implies there was more than one side’s point of view being considered. That you cared what I wanted.”

  “I did care,” I say. “I remember that much.”

  He pulls away and heads for the door. “Not enough.”

  AIDEN IS NOWHERE IN sight when I come down the spiral staircase to the main floor.

  “Oh good, Nic.” Fern bustles forward. “I’m going to need your help. It seems the other two have abandoned us. Probably brooding in the swamp, as though there aren’t a million things to be done.”

  She gestures for me to sit. The bed has once again been transformed into a table. She places an acorn mug before me, along with a plate made up of unfinished pine. There are green things on the plate that look sort of like under ripe berries.

  I pick one up and try to squish it between my fingers. It doesn’t budge. “Are you sure this is safe for humans? Certain kinds of berries are poison to us.”

  Fern puffs up indignantly, momentarily flitting apart. “Yes, I’m sure. Do you think I make a habit of poisoning my houseguests? Besides, they aren’t berries, they’re swamp nuts.”

  Swamp nuts. Oh, that sounds much better. I give them a tentative sniff. Like the scent of a jockstrap after August football camp. Anything with the word swamp and nut in it was destined to be a culinary masterpiece. A smile flits over my face as I recall how Sarah had reacted to my chia pudding.

  “My word, I do believe that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile.” Fern pats my shoulder. “Eat up, they are very high in protein and you’re going to need your strength.”

  Crossing my fingers, I pop a swamp nut into my mouth and chew. It’s got a rich buttery flavor
, sort of like a macadamia nut, but a little saltier. “What’s happening today?”

  “I promised to instruct. A brood of eight. It totally slipped my mind until I woke this morning. Of course, when I told Laufey, she headed for the hills. Never been a fan of youngens, even fawn kits.”

  “You want me to help you baby-sit?” I stare at her uncomprehendingly.

  “Well, you’re a human teenager. As I understand it, that’s a popular first job for your ilk.”

  “Yes, but not usually for the ones that kill full grown people on a regular basis.” I wave my hands in frustration.

  “Oh, it’s not like there is much to it. Just keep them from impaling themselves with sharp sticks.”

  My hands had grown clammy and I almost drop the fragrant mug of herbal tea. “Um...?”

  A knock on the front door. “That’ll be them now.”

  Fern flits apart and then recombines by the door and flings it wide. “Hello, Brooke dear. How are you?”

  A blonde creature stands on the other side, surrounded by her offspring. They are all naked from the waist up, and mostly human looking save their pointy ears and too large eyes. From the waist down, they are still naked, although equipped with deer legs. “Fern, thank you so much.” The woman ushers the miniature versions of herself inside.

  They descend like a wave crashing onto the shore, spreading out in every direction at once. The clopping of hooves on the stairs, on the floor as they scurry about. One even climbs inside the empty iron kettle before his mother hauls him back out.

  “Dale, stop that.” She sets him down and he bounds off, looking for more mischief. “He’s taken to hiding, lately, so don’t be surprised if he turns up in odd places.” She offers me a strained smile. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Nic,” I say, unsure whether to offer my hand or not.

  “She’s a family friend.” Fern has two of the fawns hanging upside down by the legs. They giggle as their bodies swing back and forth like this is the best game ever.

  “Well, I’m glad you have help. Thank you again for doing this. I’ll be back an hour before sundown. Kits, behave!”

  “Enjoy yourself!” Fern calls out, sets her giggling handfuls down and then turns to me. “Don’t just stand there, girl. Round them up!”

  “For execution?” I shout. The noise level has increased a thousand-fold.

  “For activities.” Fern pats my shoulder. “Go on, you get the ones upstairs.”

  “I—,” she’s gone before I have a chance to protest.

  I find three of the fawn kits in my room. One is swinging in the hammock, its little spotted legs dangling through the holes. “I stuck!” it screeches in a high-pitched whine.

  Two others are in the pool, shoving and splashing. My serene space has been transformed into a theme park.

  “I stuck!” the one in the hammock flails like a worm on a hook.

  “You two, out of the water before you drown one another,” I shout even as I pluck the screecher out of my hammock. “Come downstairs so we can do some activities. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

  “Fun!” the splashers resume the game with glee.

  “Fun,” I echo hollowly, understanding for the first time why certain animals eat their young. And I’d wanted a child in my last life? I must have been insane.

  Eventually, after I’m soaked to the knees, I manage to usher all three of the fawns out of my room, sliding the great bolder into place. No doubt they could work their way past it but at least it would slow them down.

  “Ah, there you all are.” Fern has somehow managed to organize the rest of the brood at the table around an arts and crafts activity. There is much stickiness and bits of nature strewn everywhere.

  “Can anyone find the healing moss?” Fern asks.

  Hooves stamp and human hands scrabble, each proffering a stringy yellow green moss.

  “Very good,” Fern nods. “Glen, can you tell me what sorts of wounds the healing moss is best for treating?”

  “Venomous animal bites.” The one I suppose is Glen answers promptly.

  Fern nods with approval. “Excellent. Go ahead and glue that to your paper. Can anyone tell me what bark from the Great Tree is used for?” She gestures to the large tree that grows in the middle of her house.

  Another hand shoots up, this time the smallest child. “Time travel spells and enchantments.”

  “Very good, Glade. But please wait until I call on you.”

  I sit at the far end and grab a piece of paper.

  The fawn next to me looks surprised. “Are you going to make a project, too?”

  I nod and uncap a marker. “I’ve got a lot to learn. Pass me the glue.”

  The kits all giggle but the glue comes my way.

  What’s in an Oath

  Brooke arrives just as the sun touches the hills to the west and not a moment too soon.

  “I hope they weren’t too much trouble,” Brooke takes a sleeping Dale from my arms.

  I open my mouth to reply, when I feel a sharp jab in the ribs from a mini Fern. I glance at the rest of her and she sends me a warning look even as she replies, “Not at all.”

  Maybe not for her. After the project, Fern and I gathered the kits and took them on a nature walk through the swamp. Though I’d been hoping to catch sight of Aiden, there had been no trace of man or beast. Fern had pointed out many more helpful plants with magical properties which I’d scribbled on my Underhill crib sheet. Knowing my surroundings had always been essential to me and learning more about the swamp made me feel a little less like prey.

  We made the kits lunch and settled the youngest down before the fireplace for a nap, while the older kits went out to help Fern tend her garden. The problem was, the little ones didn’t want to nap.

  “Tell us a story.” Glade popped a finger in her mouth and looked at me with large, expectant eyes.

  “I’m not the best storyteller.”

  This results in a full-blown tantrum. Screeching like a tea kettle along with shouts of “I want a story,” that could wake even the dead.

  In the end, I’d stumbled my way through a bastardized version of The Sleeping Beauty.

  “Let me get this straight. The prince fought the dragon and the princess slept through the whole thing?” Dale asked. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  That kid...err kit, was growing on me.

  “Well, thanks again.” Brooke rounds up her brood with the efficiency of a drill sergeant and marches them out the door.

  I flop into the armchair by the fire. “Stick a fork in me. I’m done.”

  “Be careful who you say that to,” Fern cautions. “There are plenty around here who’ll take you up on such an offer.”

  I grimace. “How could I forget?”

  Fern smiles and pats my shoulder. “You do look all done in. Why don’t you head up to your room for a little rest before dinner?”

  I take in the mess around the house. Twigs, moss, and leaves everywhere. The rustic bowls and plates we’d used at lunch stacked by the iron cauldron Fern uses for washing up. Muddy hoof prints on the wood floor. The place looks as though it has been tossed by the mob and trampled by wildebeests. “Let me help you clean up.”

  She blinks in obvious surprise and then smiles. “Oh, that’s very sweet of you dear, but I’ll be leaving clean-up for Laufey. It’s our understanding, you see. She has no direct contact with the kits, but she does the tidying afterward. As soon as she sees Brooke pass the third rise to the west, she’ll head home. It’s become something of a game, I see how much work the kits can make for her.”

  “How devious. I wholly approve.” My back aches and my temples throb. “Okay then, if you’re sure. I have a little reading to do anyway.”

  Fern nods. “I’ll call you when supper is ready. Or when Aiden returns.”

  So, my surreptitious glances on our walk hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Thank you.”

  I trudge wearily up the stairs and shove the boulder aside. Though th
e pool looks inviting, I don’t plan on getting caught in the raw again. This morning had been a near enough miss.

  Instead, I pick up the book of Norse myths and lie back in my hammock. I’m starting to think of the tome as an index for my adventures. I’ve only read the chapter about Aiden, Váli—whoever, the previous night. Now, I hunt for the people I’ve encountered.

  The first I come across is the giantess Laufey, the Needle of the Forest. I scroll back to the beginning of the paragraph and read aloud. “Mother of Loki, the trickster deity. In fact, Loki is often referred to in Eddic poetry as Loki Laufeyjarson, or son of Laufey. The consort of Loki’s father, Farbauti. The descriptor needle because she is believed to be both slender and weak.”

  A snort escapes. Can’t believe everything you read.

  I skim the next few pages. Laufey didn’t raise Loki. The book doesn’t say why. In fact, the next mention of him is when he becomes a blood brother to Odin, the All-Father. His trickery and mischievousness get him and the gods of the Aesir into trouble time and again. Often, the same duplicitous mind also bailed them out of sticky situations, usually under threat of death or dismemberment.

  “Loki fathered three children with the giantess Angrboda,” I read aloud. “Her name means foreboding or the bringer of woe. Also called the Hag of the Ironwood of Jotunheim, she is recognizable by hair the color of dried blood. The products of their union were monstrous. The great wolf, Fenrir, destined to swallow the world. The Midgard Serpent, Jormungand that encircles the realm of Midgard. And Hel, the appointed ruler of Niflheim, or the underworld for the dishonorable dead. She was chosen for this position by the All-Father because her half dead appearance made her more comfortable with the dead than with the living.”

  I shut the book and stare into the waterfall. The giantess in the castle. Aiden had called her the Hag of the Ironwood. And if she had three children with Aiden’s father that meant Hel was her daughter. As well as Aiden’s half-sister.

  I’m not the kind of girl prone to fantastic imagination or building fantasy worlds to escape reality. My reality has always been bloody and harsh, but I could always tell the difference between real and not real. Is it possible that the new boy at school is really the cursed son of a Norse god? That his grandmother is a giant? And all the people I’ve hunted are trapped forever in service to the fabled Wild Hunt? That Sarah is dead, and Aiden’s half-sister is the goddess of the underworld?