Dancing on the Wind (21 page)

He grinned. “Let’s go,
lhiannan
.”

“Go where?” she asked in a suspicious voice.

“To your room.”

Her face brightened. “You gonna fuck me, Fallon?” she asked so loud people

laughed.

Fallon felt the heat from his blush and shushed her again, but she swatted at his

chest—her lips pursed—and told him not to tell her to hush.

“If you ain’t gonna fuck me, I ain’t going nowhere with you,” she said then went

still, eyes puzzled.

She frowned, smacked her lips.

She burped, smacked her lips again.

Then her eyes rolled up in her head and he barely caught her before she hit the

floor. Fumbling with her and striving to put the tequila bottle down on the table, he

swore under his breath. He managed to rid himself of the bottle and sling Keenan over

his shoulder, grunting from the effort. Limp as an eel, her arms and head swung down

his back, she was out cold. With an arm wrapped around her legs, he started out of the

bar.

Those he passed on the way to the dormitory studiously avoided looking his way

as he carried his unconscious burden along the walkway. The doorman saw him

coming and rushed over to open the door for him. Fallon nodded his thanks and

headed for the elevator, already beginning to sweat before the metal doors even slid

open. The doorman pushed the button for him then went back to his kiosk since the

look on the agent’s face was brutal.

Stepping inside the cage never failed to unnerve Fallon. His throat always tightened

and his chest burned. Even having Keenan with him did not dispel the claustrophobia

that weighted him down. He breathed a deep sigh of relief when the doors opened

again and he was free of the confinement.

He carried her to her quarters, punched in the code then went straight to the

bedroom. After laying her down on the bed, he gently removed her clothing, found a

nightgown in the dresser and clothed her in it. Then he turned her to her side, stood

there for a moment looking down at her before leaving the room, quietly closing the

door behind him.

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Dancing on the Wind

He went into the kitchen, rummaged through her nearly empty fridge and decided

there was nothing there that interested him. After trying the cupboards and swearing

viciously at her lack of food, he stomped to the phone and called the restaurant since

the cafeteria would be closed at this time of evening.

“Yeah, this is Fallon. What’s the special tonight?” He listened then ordered double

of everything and asked that it be delivered to Keenan’s quarters ASAP. When he hung

up, he made a mental note to take her shopping right after work the next day.

With nothing to do until his supper arrived, he went to the sofa and sat. Glancing

down at the array of paperbacks under her coffee table, he bent over and picked up the

first one he saw.

“Probably
How Ripe is My Valley
or
The
Clit Also Rises
,” he said aloud. The actual

title made him snort. He laid it on the sofa seat, took off his boots, stood up and pulled

his shirttail from his jeans then stretched out to see if the actual story was as purple as

the title. He was deeply engrossed in the paranormal romance when the doorbell

chimed.

The young man with the cart was nervous as he rolled it into Keenan’s apartment.

His hand actually trembled when he took the five-dollar tip Fallon gave him after

having his ID card swiped down the check presenter.

“I don’t bite, you know,” Fallon said in a droll voice.

“No, sir, Mr. F-Fallon,” the young man stammered.

After the delivery man left, Fallon dove into the food with one hand while he kept

the romance novel in the other. As he ate, he read feverishly, completely immersed in

the storyline. When he’d finished everything he’d ordered, he rolled the cart out into

the corridor and with a beer in hand, went back to the sofa, stretched out and continued

to read.

By four o’clock the next morning he was on his second romance, and when he

heard Keenan stirring in the bedroom, reluctantly bookmarked his place, laid the book

on the coffee table and went in to check on her—as he’d done many times during the

night.

She was pulling the nightgown over her head and getting into the shower when he

came to the bathroom door. She’d barely glanced at him as he entered her bedroom.

“You okay?” he asked.

“My head feels like someone is playing ping-pong in there.” Her voice sounded

hollow inside the shower.

“Where’s your aspirin?”

“Medicine cabinet,” she mumbled as she ducked her head under the water.

He went into the kitchen for a glass of water then came back, found the aspirin and

had it waiting for her when the shower turned off. He also had an oversized towel in

his hands when she stepped onto the bathmat. Wrapping her in it, he held her as she

laid her head on his chest.

103

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

“I feel like shit,” she said.

“Take your aspirin,” he advised, reaching for the tablets.

She plucked them from his palm, took the glass of water and downed the medicine.

Without a protest, she let him sweep her into his arms and carry her back into the

bedroom.

“You hungry?” he asked.

She grimaced. “I may never eat again.”

“Perhaps you should never drink again,” he suggested as he sat her down on the

bed. He wrapped his arm around her as she leaned on his shoulder once more.

“How big a fool did I make of myself last night, Fallon?” she asked.

“Well, the entire Exchange knows you can’t hold your liquor and that I carried you

back here slung over my shoulder,” he said.

“Oh God,” she groaned. “How embarrassing!”

“Ah, it gets worse,” he warned her.

She lifted her head to look at him, searching his eyes. “How much worse?”

He cocked a shoulder. “They also know your mother slept with asshole.”

He didn’t think it was possible for her face to get any paler. He was wrong.

“Shit.” Her face screwed up and she said it again.

“Just act like you don’t care and in a couple of days, no one will even remember,”

he told her.

“Breslin is going to…”

“Asshole isn’t going to do anything,” Fallon said. “Not if he wants to keep his

teeth.”

Keenan released a long sigh. “Did you get any sleep last night or were you taking

care of me the whole time?”

“Reapers don’t need much sleep,” he said. “I read all night.”

She shot him a suspicious look. “Read what?”

“Well, first it was
Love’s Dark Master
,” he said, “and now I’m almost finished with

Tie Me To You Forever
.” He wagged his brows. “Kinky stuff that.”

“Pervert,” she said, and pushed away from him. She stood and walked over to her

closet. “I might as well get dressed. If I lie back down, I might not get up again before

noontime.”

“What’s asshole got planned for you today?” he inquired since his presence in the

training room hadn’t been requested.

“We’re going to work on the mountain girl persona,” she said, taking out a pair of

jeans and a pullover.

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Dancing on the Wind

Fallon leaned back on his elbows on the bed and watched her dress. It pleased him

she wasn’t in the least self-conscious around him as she dropped the towel and stepped

into her panties.

“What are you going to do today?” she asked as she hooked her bra.

“Thursdays are generally my gym days,” he said. “I’ll be working out until around

two, break for lunch, then run ten miles before calling it a day.”

“Sounds sweaty,” she said.

He liked the way she pulled the jeans up her long legs. They fit snuggly across her

delicious little upturned rump and he realized the sight of her zipping up was giving

him a helluva hard-on.

“Come here,” he said.

Keenan looked around at him and her gaze went to the bulge between his legs. She

shook her head. “No sex this morning,” she said. “It’s bad enough everyone is going to

know I got shitfaced last night. I don’t want to go into the training room smelling of

semen.”

“Come here,” he said again, sitting up.

“Fallon…”

“I just want to kiss you,” he said. “Nothing more. I swear.”

She went to him and he pulled her down to sit sideways on his lap with his left arm

behind her and his right hand cupping her cheek to draw her mouth to his.

The kiss was soft and sweet, but for all its innocence, as heady as summer wine.

“Good morning,” he said when he released her lips and she could feel his erection

flex beneath her.

“Good morning,” she whispered.

“Do you know I love you?”

She nodded. “Yes, I do. Do you know I love you?”

His smile was slow and so endearing. “Yes,
tarrishagh
, I do.”

“What does that mean?”

“Beloved,” he said, and kissed her gently again.

Keenan started to say something but the ringing phone made them both jump.

“The Supervisor’s assistant,” Fallon prophesied.

Keenan slid off his lap and went to her nightstand. “Hello?” She listened for a

moment then winced. “Yes, we’ll be right there.” When she hung up, she looked

around at Fallon. “I think we’re both in deep doodoo.”

“I stay in deep doodoo with him, sweetie,” he said. He stood and went into the

bathroom to relieve himself as she finished dressing.

* * * * *

105

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

“That went well,” Keenan mumbled after two hours of being screamed at by the

most important man at the Exchange.

“Yeah, I like having my ass handed to me at five o’clock in the morning too,” Fallon

said through clenched teeth.

They were walking side by side down the corridor but would soon part—Keenan

going on to the training room where an irate Zack Breslin was awaiting her and Fallon

to the gymnasium.

“I’m surprised he gave in about us having the weekend off,” she commented. She

glanced at him. “Did you use a bit of psi persuasion on him?”

“Wouldn’t have done me any good. I’ve tried it in the past and it doesn’t work with

him for some reason. From this bitch of a headache I’ve got right now, I’d say he was

scanning my mind even though I had clamped a tight shield around it, and he’s not

supposed to have psi abilities.” He rubbed at his temple. “He’s not what he seems,

goddamn it, and I’d be willing to bet he knows we’re not going to the Dells but to the

Ozarks and why.”

“You think he knows about Coim?” she asked.

“Yeah, but if it surprised him, I didn’t sense it.” He was walking with his hands in

his back pockets. “What if he knows about
An Fear Liath Mor
?”

“
Naturally he knows of me.
He is a Shadowlord, hound. He has many powers
,” came the

voice from far away, bringing Fallon to a stop.

“Shadowlord?” Fallon repeated. “What the hell is…?”

Keenan stopped walking too. “Are you talking to Coim again?”

“Greetings, Mate of the hound,”
Coim said congenially, but in a soft voice so unlike

his usual booming bray.
“Feeling better now?”

“What is a Shadowlord?” Fallon repeated.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself about!”
another voice—that of the Supervisor—

snapped in their minds.
“Get your ass to the gym, Fallon. McCullough, don’t keep Breslin

waiting!”

Fallon felt Coim drawing back but heard the beast cackling humorously as it fled.

Having his suspicions about the Supervisor’s powers proved correct made him realize

he needed to start being more circumspect around the man.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Keenan told him as she hurried away.

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

If it was the last thing he did, he was determined to find out what a Shadowlord

was and what powers he could wield.

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Dancing on the Wind

Fallon looked around the forest to which Coim’s instructions the night before had

led them in the high Ozarks. It was a beautiful spot off the beaten track with tall, stately

trees and a meandering stream that bubbled over rocks that glistened in the late

afternoon sun.

“He’s coming,” Keenan said, wrapping her arms around her and rubbing them. “I

feel that strange sense of foreboding that always accompanies him it seems.”

“I would no more harm you than I would my own lady, Mate of the hound,” Coim

said softly.

And there it stood, Fallon thought, right behind them. He could sense Keenan

steeling herself to turn around to face the creature she’d only seen once before. He

reached for her hand. Together, they turned.

An Fear Liath Mor’s
big mouth stretched into a cumbersome smile as it bowed

slightly to Keenan.

“How goes it, hound?” it inquired.

“Fair to middling,” Fallon acknowledged.

“And Mate of the hound? Are you healed of your June berry intoxication?” Its dark

eyes twinkled and its big lips twitched with mirth.

Keenan’s forehead crinkled at the strange question but she agreed that she was

feeling fine now.

“Then you will wait here, hound, and your mate will accompany me.”

Fallon stiffened. “Now wait a minute. I…”

“You will wait here,” the beast stated firmly, and in a flash both he and Keenan had