The Wild Ways (48 page)
“I can take care of that.” Charlotte nodded at Paul’s hands—lovely large hands—now covering the spreading stain on his suit pants. “You play in enough bars, and someone you know is going to end up with a lap full of beer.”
“No.” Eineen pushed out from behind him, her voice shaky but her back rigid. “You’re not putting a charm anywhere near his penis.”
“Get over yourself, it’ll be on his pants. Dries right through to the skin. It’s perfectly harmless.”
“No. I do not trust you with genitalia, Charlotte Gale!”
“How about we let Paul decide?” Paul was looking, well, stricken if Charlie had to put a word to it. Seemed like his last straw had been one of those crazy, bendy straws that leaked all over. “Hey. Boy-toy.”When he blinked and focused on her, pulled out of his head by the insult, she smiled. “I’m not judging. You’ve handled all the shit that’s come down the pike at you really well. Will you let me dry you off?”
He took a deep breath and said, “You have something on your shoe.”
Charlie glanced down. There, just where the rubber of her sneaker gave way to canvas, was a large glob of glistening, greenish-gray Goblin guts. “Oh, gross.” Holding the top of the cart, she scraped it off against the bottom edge. She’d barely worn those shoes and that was definitely going to stain.
When she looked back at Paul, Eineen had moved between them, his arms wrapped around her waist, her hands over his. Charlie didn’t have anything against Eineen loudly, if nonverbally, shouting “
Mine!”
or even mistrusting a Gale’s motives around her man, but making that man wear pee-soaked trousers because of that overly possessive lack of trust? That was mean.
Mine!”
or even mistrusting a Gale’s motives around her man, but making that man wear pee-soaked trousers because of that overly possessive lack of trust? That was mean.
Okay. Charlie could do mean. “So as I arrived, I noticed you were about to shove him at the Goblins, hoping they’d spend enough time eating him that you could haul ass and get away.”
Eineen tossed her hair as much as her position allowed. “I’m carrying four skins that aren’t mine. I have a responsibility to my family.”
A little impressed she didn’t deny it, and had stayed completely Human-seeming while doing so, Charlie spread her hands, the bracelets drawing streamers of light. “
”I
get that,” she said pointedly, looking at Paul.
”I
get that,” she said pointedly, looking at Paul.
He wet his lips, swallowed, and said, “I would have happily died if it meant Eineen survived.”
“Happily?”When he nodded, Charlie surrendered. “I’m impressed; that’s some enchantment. Walk in pee with my blessing. And while we’re on the subject of walking, we should walk out of here.”
“The Goblins?”
“Don’t worry about them.” She pointed back along the tunnel with enough emphasis the lovebirds finally got moving. “The Goblins won’t come near when I’m around.”
“That’s what the Prince said,” Eineen muttered, stepping over one of the sloppier piles of Goblin bits. “Then he left us.”
“And I came back.”
“You were gone for barely half an hour and you were near death.”
“Yeah, well, I heal fast.” She put enough edge on the words to discourage further questions.
“Why?”
Or maybe not. “Why what?” she asked.
Eineen turned her head far enough the beam from her headlamp swept across the side tunnel they were passing. The darkness screamed,
Keep moving, nothing here.
“Why did you come back? We are not your family and the Gales do not get involved in the business of the Fey.”
Keep moving, nothing here.
“Why did you come back? We are not your family and the Gales do not get involved in the business of the Fey.”
Charlie snorted. “You lucked out, I decided to be one of the good guys.”
“You can decide that?”
“Seems I’ll be deciding that every moment of every day. Great power. Great responsibility. Yadda. Yadda.”
“Sucks to be you,” Paul said dryly.
Charlie laughed. “You’re okay, Boy-toy.
It was clear he wasn’t okay, not quite, not yet, but with every touch of Eineen’s hand, or bump against his shoulder, or loving glance, he got a little better as the attitude adjustment that protected the Selkies in relationships distanced him from what had happened back at the gate. Walking behind them—mostly because they had the lights, but if they wanted to believe she was guarding the rear, she was good with that—Charlie could see the wobble in his movement firm up until he was moving as normally as his trousers allowed. When he half turned to help Eineen over a junction in the rails and she could see the edge of the stain, she sang the charm onto it.
Paul stopped walking, looked down, looked back at her, and said, “Thank you.”
Eineen turned to glare. Charlie shrugged. “Saved your life, saved all four skins—five counting yours—don’t need your permission anyway, only a line of sight, and you’re welcome.”
When they emerged out into the open area, Eineen and Paul ran for the elevator. Although the cage door had been left open and even a Goblin could figure out a big “press here” button, the elevator was right where they’d left it.
Charlie faced the tunnel. She didn’t bother raising her voice; the Goblins would hear her. “Go home. Close and lock the gate behind you. If I come back down here and any of you are still around, I will make you watch the entire run of
Barney and Friends
.What?” she asked as she turned and found her companions staring at her. “It’s not like they understand English. It just has to be a credible threat.”
Barney and Friends
.What?” she asked as she turned and found her companions staring at her. “It’s not like they understand English. It just has to be a credible threat.”
Given the destruction in Canaveral, it was a miracle the elevator had remained undamaged.
“Not a miracle,” Paul told her when she made the observation aloud. “The dra . . . Jack. The door had crumpled, but his eyes glowed and he . . .” Jazz hands stood in when he lost the words.
“Good thing,” Charlie allowed, closing the gate behind her. “I know another way out, but it’d be a tight ride up.”
Although, given the way Eineen and Paul cuddled all the way to the surface, she doubted that they’d have minded.
Charlie, while appreciating that true love had inspired half her play list, was tempted to break into Newfoundland sealing songs if only to counteract the rising level of schmoop. Particularly since the schmoop wasn’t being generated by true love but a Selkie enchantment. Still, they’d been through a lot and she supposed they deserved a bit of comfort. First word of baby talk, though, and she was responding with a rousing chorus of “Come All Ye Jolly Ice-Hunters.”
The fiddler in her head threw in a few bars in clear agreement.
Half an hour or so later, standing by the car watching Paul lock up behind them, she finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Are neither of you the slightest bit curious as to
how
I got back moments after I left, fully healed and wearing different clothes?”
how
I got back moments after I left, fully healed and wearing different clothes?”
Eineen shrugged, the movement impossibly graceful. “Fey with even the slightest sense of self-preservation don’t get involved in the business of the Gales.”
Okay. That made sense. “Paul?”
“You look like Catherine Gale.” he said turning from the building.
“Well, sure, there’s always been a family resemblance but . . .”
“I don’t mean physically.” Pulling his car keys out, he pointed the fob and unlocked the doors. “I don’t know how to explain it.” He frowned, obviously intending to try. “When you meet a wild animal, you have no way of knowing if they’ll walk off and leave you alone, or attack. You and Catherine Gale share that same unpredictability. You didn’t use to, but you do now.”
“You used to be powerful because of who you were.” Eineen slipped an arm around Paul’s waist. “Now, you’re dangerous because of what you are.”
“Besides,” Paul added before Charlie could figure out her reaction, “you might have wanted to be asked, but part of that was wanting to say
I can’t tell you
when we did.”
I can’t tell you
when we did.”
“That’s . . . actually bang on,” she admitted. No real reason
not
to admit it.
not
to admit it.
“I deal with power every day.” He held the passenger door open for Eineen who wore the smug expression of a cat with cream. “The power may be different, but dealing with it isn’t.”
The fiddler in her head came in with a rousing rendition of “Princess Royal.”
Charlie stopped Paul before he could open her door as well—manners devolved into chauvinism too often in her experience—but punched him lightly on the arm as he turned to head around the rear of the car to the driver’s door. “I like you, Paul Belleveau. I didn’t expect to, but you’re okay.”
“I’m thrilled.”
“You should be. And you needn’t look so smug,” she added sliding into the backseat, and flicking Eineen in the back of the head. “It’s not like you knew what kind of a man he was when he groped your sealskin.” A short pause. An added rim shot. Because a sentence like that seemed to require one.
“You planning on using that ax this afternoon, Chuck?”
“Going to have to.” Charlie finished tuning the six on her storm guitar and ran her thumb down the strings. “My other one got destroyed last night.” Last night for the guitar, ten . . . nine . . . eleven nights ago for her. She’d be glad to see those days pass again, so she could call Allie, tell her it worked, and merge the timelines of her life back together. It suddenly occurred to her that no one was going to call her for the next ten, or eleven, or nine days and that was almost enough to make up for losing her guitar. Almost.
The unnatural silence drew her attention back to the basement. Shelly, Tim, and Mark were staring at her wearing varying expressions of horror.
“Ah, Jesus, Chuck, that sucks the big, hairy hard one.” Crouching down, Mark braced himself on her knees and peered up at her through a messy fall of hair. “You okay?”
“I wasn’t,” she told him honestly. More or less honestly. “But I am now. When it comes right down to it, it was only a guitar. It could have been worse.”
He tightened his grip. “That’s a remarkably mature attitude, Chuck. If I’d lost my kit, I’d be lying on the floor, drumming my heels and screaming.”
She’d done a little of that back in Calgary, but Jack’s expression kept reminding her how much worse it
could
have been, so . . . “Yeah, well, you’re wearing a
Hello Kitty
sporran. Where the hell did you get that, by the way?”
could
have been, so . . . “Yeah, well, you’re wearing a
Hello Kitty
sporran. Where the hell did you get that, by the way?”
“Esty shop. It’s a one off.” He patted the pink leather bag hanging over his crotch. “You like?”
“Ignoring the innuendo because Tim’s a foot taller than me, I’m just happy to discover they’re not in mass production.”
“I totally don’t blame Jack’s guardians for freaking,” Shelly muttered, cradling her upright bass against her chest and rubbing her cheek along the smooth finish on the edge of the fingerboard. “I mean, terrorizing grannies and toddlers is one thing, but destroying instruments is a whole other level of fucked up.”
“Aggie Forest, Captain Wedderburn’s keys, got caught in her cables and nearly went down with the stage, talk about fu . . .” Mark paused, twisted back around to face Charlie and said, “You had your guitar when we saw you last night. Tim went to ask if we could help with the rebuild, and you and me were sitting on that picnic table. You had your guitar then, Chuck.”
Oops.
“I had my guitar
case
then, Mark. Still have the case.” It had been in the back of Paul’s car. “Now this guitar is in it.”
case
then, Mark. Still have the case.” It had been in the back of Paul’s car. “Now this guitar is in it.”
Mark frowned. Ran his thumb along a bit of flaking varnish. “It looks like it got caught out in the rain. How’s it sound?”
Charlie picked out the first four bars of “Wildwood Flower,” segued into “The Boy’s Lament for his Dragon,” finished up with Zeppelin’s “Tangerine.” “Sounds okay to me.” She grinned at Mark’s expression—he’d dropped back to sprawl at her feet when she started playing—and kicked him in the thigh. “For the love of . . . well, Tim, learn to sit like a lady.”
He had his mouth open to answer when one of his sticks nailed him in the back of the head.
“Quite the hollow bonk,” Shelly murmured.
“A little respect for your fearless leader,” Mark commanded, scrambling up onto his feet. “But Tim’s right. We need to get this run through moving; he’s got a
Kids on Keyboards
workshop at one. Where the hell’s Bo?”
Kids on Keyboards
workshop at one. Where the hell’s Bo?”
Tanis had been one of the Selkies who’d got her sealskin back. It was entirely possible Bo wouldn’t be able to walk for . . .
“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” As if called by the question, Bo bounded down the stairs into the rec room. “Happy girlfriend, happy me, happy idiot in a pickup doing thirty in front of me all the way into town. Let’s rock and roll in a Celtic sort of way that’ll win us this shindig, get us a recording contract, fill our pockets, and cover us with the limited amount of glory available.” He set his case down on the top of the sofa, pulled out his violin, and took a moment to look around the room. “What?”
Tim snickered.
Mark spread his hands. “Nothing.” Hands still spread, he spun in place. “You heard the man, people, let’s Celt and roll.”
Charlie kept a tighter than usual grip on her tendency to throw a
you like me, you really like me
charm or two out. Today, this first day back playing, she had no idea if a slip would throw out more than just a joy in the music cranked up to eleven.
you like me, you really like me
charm or two out. Today, this first day back playing, she had no idea if a slip would throw out more than just a joy in the music cranked up to eleven.
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