The Outcast Prince (16 page)

“Is there water damage on the ceiling below?”

“I’ll have a look.” She went back down the ladder and checked the ceilings. There were marks on the ceiling that weren’t just age-related. She didn’t want Caspian moving boxes and risking going through the ceiling.

She scampered back up before he could do anything. “I think so. I’ll call the insurance people and see what they say.”

“If it’s poor maintenance, I don’t like your chances.”

Damn. He was probably right. And it would be due to lack of care. “What do I do?”

“Clean the gutters and get a quote for repairs… if you aren’t selling. If you are selling don’t worry about it. The house won’t come down around you in the next few months. It’s probably been like this for years.”

How was she going to pay to get the roof fixed?

She smoothed her hair back from her face. “I can’t make any decision until the valuation is in.”

“I’m working on it. I think all of this stuff is either ruined or of personal significance only.” He walked back over, carefully ducking the beams in the very low roof space.

“So you’re done?”

“Yeah, there’s a few outstanding prices, but I’ll have it back to the company in a few days and they can inform the lawyer.”

Lydia forced a breath out between her teeth. “I may not have any option but to sell.”

“There’re always options. If your grandmother could turn it into a profitable business, I’m sure there’s something you could do.” A frown creased his brow. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know.” She nodded and smiled. From another man those words would have had entirely the wrong meaning, but not Caspian.

“What’s the split of the estate?”

“My mother gets the cash accounts. I get the house and whatever is left. Without cash I can’t keep the house.”

“It’s mortgage free?”

“Yes. But it needs work. A lot of work. I have my own mortgage and car payments. I can’t afford an empty house.”

“You could sell and live here.”

And rattle around like a lonely pea in a pod like Gran? But she didn’t say that living here alone held no appeal. She’d known this place when it was full of life and that was how she wanted to remember it.

“And lose money on my place?” It wasn’t a sellers’ market at the moment. She shrugged. “I know you’re trying help, but I’ve thought of everything.”

“At least get quotes so you know exactly how much you need to fix the place up.” He smiled, the white of his teeth catching in the light. “Quotes, at least, are free.”

“True.” She could do that. Maybe if she’d been more attentive while Gran was alive the house wouldn’t have gotten so shabby. But she hadn’t wanted to see that Gran wasn’t coping. Gran had always been strong and capable; to see her as anything else would mean acknowledging she was getting old.

“Hey. It’ll be fine.” The back of his fingers brushed her cheek.

“And you know this how?” He saw the past, not the future.

“Because I have faith in you.” He kissed her, not chaste or even curious. His mouth claimed hers as if he were starving for contact and needed everything she had. When his tongue swept over her lips she opened her mouth to taste him.

Lydia pressed her body closer, needing to feel him against her. Without words getting in the way there was no doubt about what he wanted. Her hand slid up his neck and her fingers threaded into his dark curls. The need that had been simmering in her belly broke free. She wanted him like she’d never wanted anyone. She wanted to sink into his touch and forget everything. A moan escaped her lips as his hand gripped her hip, and the length of his shaft pressed against her in a tempting promise of things to come.

“Not up here,” he murmured against her lips. “There are spiders.”

She opened her eyes and realized he was being serious. A moldering attic was not the best place to pick for a tryst. She took his hand and led him toward the ladder, an idea forming. He followed her down, which gave her a moment to check out his butt.

Caspian followed as she went down a flight of stairs, but instead of going to the room they were using she walked past to the landing that overlooked the entrance. She wanted a glimpse into the house’s past. She wanted a glimpse into what he saw, to understand him better. Asking him to do that in the bedroom wouldn’t be right, he’d already said he didn’t want to pry into those parts of history. But out here? Would he agree or brush her off? She saw his raised eyebrows and wondered if she was asking too much.

“I want to see what you see and be a part of the house.” What would she be saving by keeping the place?

“I can’t do that.”

“But you could tell me what you see.”

He looked at the wooden railing but didn’t touch it. “It’s not a party trick. I can’t be in the past and with you at the same time. Too long and reality and the past blur. It’s why I needed to eat and ground myself this morning.” He lifted his gaze to her. “You don’t want to recreate what has already happened.”

“Not recreate, but I want to know what it is you see when you are in the house.” She took his hand in hers. “Just let me into your world for a few minutes. I won’t ask again.”

She could see the possibilities spinning in his mind. He wasn’t used to talking about it let alone sharing anything about it.

“You could have asked me over dinner about the table.”

“It’s just a dining table. I was thinking something more… intriguing.”

He smiled and it hid a thousand secrets. “There’s no such thing as just a dining table.”

Eww.
But then she remembered she’d been eating breakfast at that table since she was old enough to sit in a chair. What he was talking about was decades old.

“Are you sure you want to get a taste of what I see? Because you’ll never be able to look at it the same again.”

“Then how do you live with it?”

“I buy new furniture. The antiques I sell so I don’t have to live with the history. I try not to buy things that have been present during a murder. I don’t like the vibe.”

“Okay.” That wasn’t the direction she’d been hoping to take. “How about one object, your choice.”

He looked at her as if trying to work out what it was she wanted. Then he pushed her against the railing, his hands on either side of her. She put her arms around his neck and risked a glance over her shoulder.

“I won’t let you fall,” he murmured in her ear. “But now you are part of it as she was.”

And she realized this was it. This is what she’d asked for. He’d picked the railing and had pushed her against it the way someone else had been years before. Caspian’s cheek was against hers, his breath on her skin, and while she couldn’t see his face she could feel the tension in his shoulders beneath her hands.

“She leaned back as far as she could, not caring of the danger. His arm around her waist as he kissed her neck and slowly moved lower. The risk of getting caught, but neither cared.” He swallowed. “Lust is the overriding emotion. The longer I tap into the past the more real it becomes. Music drifts up from downstairs. Laughter.”

Her breathing quickened as he moved against her, hard against her stomach. But as his hand slid around her waist she realized he wasn’t actually with her. He was in the past. And she understood what he meant and why he’d been reluctant to do this.

She slid her hands down his chest then pushed him back, breaking the connection.

He took a couple of steps back and blinked. “I thought you wanted to know.”

“I do… I did. You got lost.” Was he back?

“Not lost; when I’m lost it’s very hard to get free. That hasn’t happened in a very long time.”

“You weren’t here either.”

“The impression was close to what I want, so it was easy to tap in and easy for it to take over.”

“Close to what you want?” She took a couple of steps, until she was toe to toe with him.

“Mmm.” He cupped her cheek and kissed her. His other hand snaked around her waist and drew her closer.

She untucked his shirt and slid her hands under, needing to feel his skin. He must have had the same idea as he worked open the buttons on her shirt and pushed it off her shoulders while she tried to do the same to him. Her fingers skimmed the muscles of his stomach down to the button on his jeans, then she flicked it open.

“And what is it that you want?” She needed to make sure he was here with her, now.

“You, in the room down the corridor.” He tugged on the waistband of her jeans as he walked backward toward the room they were sharing.

Neither of them had bought groceries so it was bread from the freezer again for breakfast. It was so boring and normal. He hadn’t had breakfast with anyone in… well, in four years, since he’d walked out on Natalie. Lydia knew what he could do and she’d still come back to bed for more.

After several days of being surrounded by Greys and a twitchy Dylis, he felt good. He smiled at Lydia as she sat opposite him at the table. The shop was closed, so he had nowhere to be and nothing pressing to do. And there were no mirrors in the yard—which probably meant Shea was pacing his front yard, but Shea could wait.

A movement on the windowsill caught his eye. A fairy wren hopped along, stopping and turning, its feathers flashing brilliant blue in the morning sun. Caspian watched, willing it to vanish, or to be attracted to him and not a herald for the Court. Not today, not here. Not now.

Three knocks at the front door shattered the hope he’d had. He’d been lulled into an obviously false sense of security. The wren flapped away, its job done. Whoever was waiting out front was associated with Court.

Lydia looked at Caspian. “I’m not expecting anyone.”

He was, but he’d thought he’d gotten away with it when they’d taken so long to come. “I’ll go have a look.” He finished his coffee.

The fairy knocked again. This time the sound reverberated with power and Caspian felt a stirring in his blood as the fairy in him responded to the call of the Court. He stood, then paused to make sure he’d stood of his own accord. He had—a fairy wouldn’t go so far as to control a person; they much preferred to muck around with the limits of free will.

On one hand he could pretend to ignore the knock, on the other he knew he had to answer or the results would be worse. So he would do what any normal person would do—answer the door and then decide what to do with the person on the other side.

He walked barefoot through the house, the echoes of parties long since finished humming around him. Memories of last night lingered but offered no warmth. He wished he could go back and not make the deal, anything to buy himself more time with Lydia.

The fairy on the doorstep was dressed in green and brown. Almost plain by fairy standards. But it was the cut and finish of the clothes that tugged at an unconscious memory. The fairy’s green waistcoat was delicately embroidered with silver deer around the edge, his white shirt was untied at the cuff in elegant untidiness, and his brown leather boots were embossed with oak leaves. A long sword of fairy silver hung from his waist. Everything about him said carefully restrained power. This was no low-level messenger.

Caspian met the fairy’s cool gaze. His eyes were pale like smoky quartz.

“Caspian ap Felan ap Gwynn ap Nudd.” The fairy inclined his head with more than token respect.

Caspian didn’t admit it was his name even though the power of the words spoken by one of the Court cloaked around him. “And you are?”

“Verden ap Hollis, Hunter of Annwyn.” There was a glint in Verden’s eyes that chilled Caspian to the core.

The Court, possibly his father, had sent the Lord of the Hunt after him. That was either a sign of respect or he was in far deeper trouble than he’d imagined.

“The Crown Prince of Annwyn and guardian of the veil cordially invites you to attend Court at your earliest convenience.”

“My father wants to see me.”

“To put it coarsely.” Verden’s expression didn’t change.

“Is everything all right?” Lydia walked up behind Caspian. Verden shimmered and as Caspian turned to Lydia he glimpsed what she’d see. A man in a dark suit, wearing sunglasses, his dark brown hair pulled into a messy, but somehow stylish ponytail with a very obvious bulge under one side of his jacket. To her eyes it would be a gun.

“Oh.” Her gaze flicked between Caspian and the now glamoured fairy.

“Good morning.” Verden smiled with all the charm of a fairy. No mortal could resist. He half-expected Lydia to fall into Verden’s arms.

She didn’t; she moved further behind Caspian. “What’s going on? What does he want?” Then she lowered her voice. “Is he fairy?”

“Caspian’s father needs to speak with him,” Verden answered before Caspian could even form a word.

“Your father, the mechanic?” she said hopefully.

Caspian half-turned so he could keep one eye on Verden and the other on Lydia. “No, the other one.” He gave her a look which he hoped conveyed that yes, this man was a fairy and she should go back to the kitchen. It obviously failed.

“Ohhh.” She looked at the Hunter of Annwyn again as if realizing that he wasn’t human. “I thought you didn’t know your biological father?”

Verden smiled without warmth. He was here to collect and was enjoying watching Caspian squirm as his two worlds collided.

“I don’t, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know me.”

Lydia glanced at the fairy again. “I thought fairies would look less gangster.”

“She knows?” Verden crossed his arms.

Caspian shrugged. “I don’t keep secrets from my lover.”

Verden shimmered again. Lydia gasped as she saw him how he really looked, all sharp-edged beauty and elegant clothes. This time he expected her to swoon.

She stepped back as if fully appreciating the danger. “This is about the mirrors. How did he know to find you here?”

“Caspian’s father keeps track of him,” Verden added unhelpfully.

Caspian turned to the fairy. “That’s really very creepy.”

“Very.” Added Lydia. “Just how powerful is your fairy father?” she added in a lower voice, as if hoping the man at the door wouldn’t hear.

He paused for a moment. Now probably wasn’t the best time to mention his father was actually the Prince of Death. “Let’s say extremely and that he’s sent his most powerful messenger.”

“Forgive me for not introducing myself. I am Verden, Lord of the Hunt. I’ve come to escort Caspian to Court. I would have been more upfront had I known you knew about Annwyn.” He gave a small bow.

“Shit,” she said and then glanced at the fairy. “Sorry.” She turned back to Caspian. “You can’t go to Annwyn. I thought that is heaven and hell and all that. Won’t you die?”

“Hopefully not.” He really hoped that he would make it back.

“You knew this would happen.”

“I suspected. But I did what I had to. It will be okay.” He took her hand. “I’m sorry I brought this to your door.”

“Is there anything I can do?” She squeezed his hand, and her brown eyes filled with concern.

Caspian shook his head. “Just be safe, follow the rules.”

She nodded but looked uncertain.

“Are you coming with me or do I have to set the dogs?” Verden’s hand flicked to his side and two large black dogs appeared.

Their heads were hip height and their eyes glowed with a red light most people mistook for demonic, but it was simply pure hunger and bloodlust. These were the bad kind of fairy dogs. The ones used for dragging unwilling souls to Annwyn for judgment. He really was in trouble if the Hunter had brought the shucks and not the white hunting hounds.

Lydia hadn’t said anything about the shuck’s magical appearance, which meant she couldn’t see them, or hear them. That low rumble could be distant traffic—or wishful thinking.

“I’ll come, just give me a moment.” Caspian pulled Lydia farther down the hallway. Not out of earshot of the fairy, but Lydia didn’t know that. “I can’t refuse the invitation. This is what I meant when I said I’m bound by Annwyn’s rules. Making that deal I broke them. I knew that. I had no other choice.”

“You shouldn’t have done it.”

“Shea would have torn this house down. He’d have tricked you out of your soul just to get me to obey. That would have been far, far worse.”

“Will your father protect you?”

He didn’t have an answer for that.

“Caspian?”

He looked at Lydia. For two nights he’d tasted the kind of life he’d like, one where his lover knew the truth. One where he could happily wake up in her bed and eat toast at the kitchen table. He was imagining a life with Lydia in it and just as fast it was snatched away.

“You’re scaring me.”

“I am scared. I’m just trying not to show it.” He tried to smile but was pretty certain it wasn’t reassuring.

“You’re doing a good job.” She put her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear. “You’d better come back. I don’t invite just anyone into my bed.” Her lips pressed against his for a moment before she drew back.

He gripped her hands, an idea forming. He could make a deal with her, one that would hopefully guarantee his return from Annwyn. “If I’m not back in three days, panic.”

Her eyes widened. “Three days? Don’t most people get killed in the first twenty-four hours?” He must have looked shocked because she immediately apologized. “Oh my God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean your father was going to kill you.”

“If he was going to, he would have done so already.” He almost believed that. He touched her cheek and let the strands of her blond hair trail through his fingers. “I’ll be back. I want to be back. I want to come back to you. So if this hasn’t freaked you out totally, kiss me good-bye and keep me in your prayers. I understand if you’d rather walk away.”

Lydia looked at him—was he serious? “I’m not walking away, and you’re coming back to me.”

“I will come back, I swear.”

For a moment she felt the force of his words. She had to believe that was true. But when she glanced at the fairy on the doorstep she wasn’t sure. At first glance Verden looked melt-at-the-knees hot. The face, the casual disheveled look like he was too cool to care, and those pale gray eyes. Women could get whiplash if they passed him on the street. But after that first glance, when she looked a little closer, that was when warning raked icy fingernails down her back. He smiled and she saw the restrained power, and the hunger as if he could never be satisfied. His eyes weren’t cold and empty, but whatever he wanted out of life had eluded him. The Hunter of Annwyn, but what was he really hunting?

She stepped back as he leveled his gaze at her.

Caspian stepped between them. “Leave her out of it.”

Verden inclined his head and tapped the sword at his side. “My patience is wearing thin.”

Caspian turned as if to go, but she wasn’t ready for him to leave with Verden. What if she never saw him again?

“Wait, you need your shoes and wallet.”

“I won’t need them. Look after them for me.” He glanced up at the ceiling and drew in a breath. He was trying to remain calm. “Why don’t you get those quotes while I’m away so we can make plans to save the house when I return.”

He was thinking about quotes now? No, he was trying to keep things normal. He was trying to think of the mundane and not the fairies. He was giving her something to do and something else to think about instead of where he had gone.

She stepped forward and gave him another hug. “Be safe.”

“You too.” He returned her embrace and held onto her. “I will do everything I can to come back.”

“You will get him back. Debts must be settled. Reparation made. You don’t want to be late, so come along.” Verden smiled, but there was nothing friendly in it.

She swallowed and released Caspian. She didn’t want him to be in any more trouble with the fairies. Especially this fairy.

Caspian took a step back, gave her a single nod, and then turned away. He closed the door. For a moment Lydia stood in the entrance, not sure what to do. Was there anything she could do? Praying that she hadn’t seen the last of Caspian seemed like the only option.