Kelpie (Come Love a Fey) (15 page)

I
checked my mailbox on the way to the elevator.  I tossed the junk mail and kept
the letter from my worthless brother.  I got in the elevator and rode up to my
floor, staring at the shiny numbers on the buttons.  I closed my door and stood
in the middle of the living room, staring.

There
was a flash of movement, and a tiny woman appeared before me.  She hovered in
the air a few feet away.  “Ada, I smell blood.  Are you hurt?  Where is Leith?”

She
looked like a miniature person with big, dusty green moth wings.  I didn’t know
how to react.  Still numb, I just shrugged.  “Some hunters killed… a deer. 
Leith stayed in the woods.  He… he told me to leave.”

The
little sprite hovered in front of me, hands on hips, peering at my face.  “Are
you okay?”

I
shook my head.  “Who me?  I’m fine.  It was just a deer.  Just a deer.  Uh- who
are you?”

She
narrowed her eyes at me in, and then went to hover by the door.  “I’m going to
find Leith and make sure he’s ok.  I can’t believe you left him out there alone
when Adhene is looking for him.”

She
disappeared.  Her movements were too quick for my eyes to follow.  Finally, I
shook myself and pushed into motion.  It was like through molasses.  I changed
my clothes and took a hot shower, trying to erase the smell of blood and soil. 
Twenty minutes later, I was dressed in pajama pants and a camisole.  I stood
staring at the salmon fillet that lay on the counter. 

Ten
minutes after that I slipped the baking pan into the oven and went to the
kitchen sink to wash my hands.  I stared at my middle finger, the one I had
sliced on the glass a few days ago.  I turned it to and fro, frowning.  It
hadn’t hurt since Leith touched it.  In fact, there was no visible evidence
that I had ever cut myself.  Maybe none of it had ever happened.

Twenty
minutes after that, the kitchen timer dinged.  I rolled off the couch with a
thump and made my way to the kitchen.  I pulled the salmon out of the oven and
put it on a couple of plates.  I added rice and steamed veggies.  I stood
staring at the plates.  He had to come back to eat his dinner, right?  It was
fish after all.

Five
minutes after that, a big hand touched my shoulder.  I turned and looked up
into those dark, dark blue eyes.  There was an unpleasant squeezing sensation
in my chest.  He slowly stepped close and slipped his arms around me, as if he
were afraid I might explode.

I
inhaled deeply.  He was shirtless, his skin damp and cool as if he’d been for a
swim.  I stepped back out of his arms- and exploded.

 
“You son of a bitch!”  The memory of his cold eyes and his hateful words rang
in my mind.

His
expression was bland, but his mouth twitched.  “You made me fish?”  He reached
for a plate and I slapped his hand, hard.  He withdrew the offended appendage
and looked at me. 

“You
want to eat something a dirty human touched?”

He
took a deep breath.  “I’m sorry.  That wasn’t fair.  I was… upset.”

“You
expect me to believe everything you say, just like that.  Poof!  My entire
world changes.”  I threw my hands up in exasperation.  “No big deal.  So
everything I have ever believed in was a lie.  So what?”  I glared at him.  “How
the hell am I supposed to do that?”

I
realized I was ranting.  I took a deep breath and let it out, collapsing in on
myself.  “Eat your damned fish, you crazy ass fairy.”

He
continued to stare.  “Are you okay?”

I
shrugged.  “Sure, sure.  Fine.  Just peachy.”

I
headed toward my bedroom.  Like I could eat after everything that had happened. 
I paused in the hallway.  “Leith?”

He
was sniffing his plate.  Maybe he thought it was poisoned.  “I’m glad you came
back.”

He
gave me a flat look.  “It’s not as if I really have anywhere else to go.” 

Liar.
 I turned away. 
There were probably a million other places he could go. He was a freaking
magical
creature. 
But part of me was relieved.  There was something seriously
wrong with me.  When had I begun to like having him near me?  When did I start
looking forward to coming home to him?  When did buying fish and making dinner
become the highlight of my day?

I
shuffled to my room and collapsed face first onto my bed.  What had he done
with the dead girl in the woods?  Maybe I should have wondered what happened to
the hunters.

*****

We
walked along the narrow sidewalk, looking at the crafters’ booths.  The Fall
Festival in the park wasn’t a huge event, but I always made time to come and
soak up the atmosphere.  I paused to sniff a bar of handmade organic soap, and
Leith came to look over my shoulder.  My eyes watered in response to the strong
floral smell and I sneezed. 

A
deep chuckle erupted from behind me and I gave Leith a warning look.  Wiping my
watering eyes, I set the soap down and gave the vendor an apologetic smile. 
Leith brushed past me and poked around through the rows of soaps.  “Sage and lemongrass…”
he muttered under his breath, “…maybe chamomile…”

Finally,
he turned to me with a bar of soap, grinning triumphantly.  “This one,” he
said, confident.

I
took the proffered item from him suspiciously.  Narrowing my eyes in distrust,
I sniffed the soap.  It smelled like an herby lemon candy.  No sneezing
occurred, so I bought the soap.  We headed away from the booth as I tucked my
little paper sack into my purse.

“How
did you know?”  I glanced up at Leith.

He
shrugged.  “This suits you- earthy and fresh, and just a bit pungent, not
flowery or overpowering.”

I
raised my eyebrows.  “If you say so.”

His
big hand encompassed mine and we walked hand-in-hand through the small crowd
looking at the rest of the booths.  A mouthwatering smell reached me, and my
stomach rumbled.  I sighted a Lion’s Club trailer up ahead.  “Ooh,” I said,
pointing excitedly.  “Let’s get hotdogs!”  I would bet money he had never tried
one.

Leith
rolled his eyes.  “Hotdogs?  Those things don’t qualify as edible.”

I
frowned at him and tugged him toward the trailer.  “How do you know?  Have you
ever had a hotdog?”  I pulled him into the small line at the food window. 
“Mmm… chili-dog.”

He
said nothing as I ordered two hotdogs with the works and a couple of sodas.  We
made our way to an unoccupied park bench.  Shivering slightly, I hunched into
my coat and steered the warm, messy hotdog to my mouth.  I paused to see Leith
watching me with an amused expression on his face. 

“By
all means, go ahead.”  He gestured at my food and I took a bite, closing my
eyes in bliss.

Leith
chuckled.  “Is it really that good?”  He took a bite of his own hotdog.  He
chewed a few times and his eyes widened in surprise.

I
laughed.  “See, I told you!”

We
sat in the afternoon sun eating our food.  If it were an overcast day, it would
be too cold for my tastes, but the sun was enough to take the edge off the
slight chill in the air.  My mind wandered as I ate, and I mulled over all the
things Leith had told me in the past month or so.  I wanted to kick myself for
not listening.  Now I had to catch up.

“So…” 
I said uncomfortably.  I picked at my hotdog wrapper.  “Why does your cousin
hate humans so much?”

He
sipped at his soda and gazed out at the park, his eyes roving over the milling
families there.  “Who knows another’s mind? “  He sighed.  “All I can tell you
is that he has changed since I last saw him.  I know that his father pushed him
to hate humans, but uncle is dead now.  Maybe his death influenced Adhene?”  He
shrugged.  “Maybe his heart was already poisoned long before his father’s
death.”

I
finished the last bite of my hotdog and crumpled up the paper.  The food had
lost its appeal and I gulped some of my soda to wash it down.  My eyes watered
at the sting of the effervescent drink.

“So
he’s in it for revenge?”  My voice was small.  I hated to think about what a
motivated fey could do.

Leith
shrugged.  “I don’t think so…at least not anymore.”  His eyes met mine and I
saw the sadness there.  “The Adhene I knew was full of warmth- even when he was
angry, it was a sort of burning feeling.  However, the things I hear from the
others… it makes me think that he has gone cold.”  He pursed his lips for a
moment before continuing.  “They say his actions are robotic now.  He acts out
of some remembered routine, but his heart isn’t in it.”

I
nodded.  “That’s a good thing though, right?  I mean, if his heart isn’t in it,
that means he will be easier to stop.”

He
took another bite of his hotdog and chewed thoughtfully for a moment.  “Not at
all.  Fey- elves especially- have a strong sense of honor and purpose.  If this
is the course he is set on, he won’t just give up.”

I
shook my head.  “If fey are so honorable, how is it they justify attacking
humans?”

He
chugged his soda, looking unconcerned.  “It’s that very thing that tells me
just how sick the Unseelie have become.  Our kind is intimately connected with
nature, and with every creature on this earth.  We don’t take lives lightly.”

I
rolled my eyes at that statement and he rushed to explain.  “The Unseelie have
always had difficulty interacting with humans.  They gained a reputation for
being evil, but truthfully they were only so if they were provoked in some
way.  If they perceived an injustice or a wrong, then they would react in
kind.”

He
took my soda and drank the rest.  “Things have changed.  Now they twist logic
to suit their own desires.  If they give the humans magic- technology- the
consequences of how it is used lie solely with humans.”  He gave me a wry
grin.  “Is it our fault that humans suffer from life-threatening idiocy?”

I
frowned.  “And what do you think of this reasoning?”

He
snorted.  “I think both sides of the debate are idiotic.  Saying that we aren’t
responsible for how humans use the
gifts
we’ve given them- that’s like
giving a child a loaded gun and blaming the child for the results.”  

I
gritted my teeth.  “So humans are just like children.  Not capable of making
decisions or thinking for themselves?”

He
shoved the rest of his hotdog into his mouth and chewed vigorously, refraining
from comment.  I glowered at him.  His view of humans was insulting.  It
implied that we had no intelligence, weren’t capable of making good decisions-
that we were underdeveloped compared to our fey neighbors.  Of course, I
couldn’t fault his observations.  After all, if he was wrong and we weren’t
simply ignorant… that would mean mankind’s decisions were purposeful and that
humans really were as destructively evil as the Unseelie believed.

I
glanced at Leith, and rolled my eyes.  Pulling a napkin out of my pocket, I
reached over to wipe the relish off his chin.  “Children,” I muttered.  His
eyes met mine and I couldn’t help but smile.

 We
made our way to the other side of the park to look at the vendors there.  I
shot guarded glances at Leith as we browsed.  He appeared completely calm, even
though we had just been talking about murder and survival.  I had a cold
feeling in the pit of my stomach that I couldn’t attribute to the chill of the
October day.

A
dhene woke
slowly, as if arising from a deep fog.  He sat at the edge of his bed, his eyes
still closed.  Breathing deeply, he said a soft prayer of greeting to the
ancestors and the old ones that were no longer of this world.  He could feel them
with him always.  He brushed back his long, golden hair and opened his eyes.  A
small portrait of a wild, brown-haired beauty watched him from his nightstand. 
He liked to think she watched over him as he slept.  Her bowstring mouth was
turned up at one corner in a mischievous smile, and he wondered, as he had
countless mornings, just what she was thinking.  She had always worn that
knowing smile.  She would be sad to know that he could no longer muster more
than a weak, fleeting imitation of that expression.

He
tossed back the silken covers and stood.  He began his morning preparations, a
routine that had grown empty and dull.  He groomed himself meticulously,
braiding his long hair and adding a black silk ribbon.  She had always loved
his hair- the color of sunshine, she said- and he hadn’t cut it since her
death.  It brushed the floor as he moved, and he had to drape it over one
shoulder to keep it out of the way.  He slipped into the loose, flowing,
kimono-style robes that were favored by the Underhill court.  Some thought his
choice of vibrant colors was because he wished to call attention to his almost
feminine beauty, but they were wrong. 

He
compressed his mouth to a thin line as he studied his appearance in the mirror,
and gave one last impatient jerk to the sleeve of his robes.  They were black
today.  The color representing the darkness they all dwelled in here in Underhill,
just as the deep red of the flowers that danced across the fabric represented
the blood of all the fey who were no longer of this world.  Beauty held no
meaning to him any longer.  He chose the colors to honor his kin.  The rest was
all part of the façade necessary to inspire awe in his followers.