A Kiss of Shadows mg-1 Page 12
The sidhe agreed, and Ringo shot his fellow gang members to death. His wish was to be one of the fey. The sidhe had given their word to grant his wish. They couldn't go back on their word. To make a full human into a part fey, you have to pour wild magic, pure power, into them, and it is the human's will or desire that chooses the shape of that magic. Ringo had been in his early teens when it happened. He'd probably wanted to appear fierce, frightening, to be the toughest son of a bitch around, so the magic had given him his wish. By human standards he was a monster. By sidhe standards, ditto. By fey standards, he was just one of the gang.
I don't know why Ringo left the gangs. Maybe they turned on him. Maybe he got wise. By the time I met him, he'd been an upstanding citizen for years. He was married to his childhood sweetheart and had three kids. He specialized in bodyguard work and did a lot of celebrities that just wanted some exotic muscle to follow them around for a while. Easy work, no real danger, and he got to rub elbows with the stars. Not bad for a kid whose mother had been a fifteen-year-old junkie, father unknown. Ringo keeps a picture of his mom on his desk. She's thirteen, bright-eyed, well groomed, pretty, with the world in front of her. By the next year she was on drugs. She died at seventeen, overdose. There are no pictures of his mother after age thirteen in his office or in his home. It's as if, for Ringo, everything after that wasn't real, wasn't his mother.
His oldest daughter, Amira, looks eerily like that smiling picture. I don't think she'd survive if he found her doing drugs. Ringo says that being on drugs is worse than dead; I think he believes it.
Neither of them remarked on the gun as I slipped it back into the waistband of my pants. They'd probably been with Jeremy when he found the gun and the papers.
Jeremy got in the passenger-side seat. "Let's get to the airport" was all he said. Ringo put the car in gear and away we went.
Chapter 9
THE BACK OF THE VAN WAS EMPTY EXCEPT FOR CARPET AND A MODIFIED seat-belt harness that Jeremy had had installed on one side. Uther's seat. I started to crawl into the middle row of seats but Uther touched my arm. "Jeremy has suggested that if you sit with me my aura may serve to overlap yours, thus confusing our pursuers." Each word was carefully enunciated, because the tusks may have looked like they came out of the skin over the mouth, out of the face, but in reality the tusks were modified teeth, attached inside the mouth. It meant if he were careless, he had a tendency to slur his speech. He'd worked with one of Hollywood's leading speech coaches to learn his Midwestern college professor voice. It did not match a face that was more pig than human, with a double set of tusks curling out of it. We'd had one client faint after he spoke to her for the first time. Always fun to shock the humans.
I glanced up at Jeremy. He nodded. "I may be the better magician, but Uther's got that older-than-God energy whirling around him. I think it'll help them overlook you."
It was a great idea, and a simple one. "Gee, Jeremy, I knew there was a reason you were the boss."
He grinned at me, then turned to Ringo. "It's a straight shot up Sepulveda to the airport."
"At least we won't hit rush hour," Ringo said.
I settled into the back of the van, next to Uther. The van came out on Sepulveda a little too fast, and Uther caught me before I had time to fall. His big arms pulled me against him, cradling me against a chest nearly as big as my entire body. Even with my shields firmly in place he was like a large, warm, vibrating thing. I'd met other fey who had no real magic to speak of, just the very barest of glamour, but they were so old and had been around so much magic all their lives that it was as if they'd absorbed the power into the very pores of their skin. Even the sidhe wouldn't find me caught within Uther's arms. They'd sense him, not me.
Probably. Initially.
I relaxed against Uther's broad chest, the warm safety of his arms. I don't know what it was about him, but he always made me feel safe. It wasn't just the sheer physical size. It was Uther. He had a center of calm like a fire that you could huddle around in the dark.
Jeremy turned in his seat, as far as the seat belt would allow, wrinkling his suit, which meant what he had to say was serious. "Why did you ward my back, Merry?"
"What?" Uther said.
Jeremy waved the question away. "I had an old sidhe injury on my back. Merry put a ward on it. I want to know why."
"You are persistent," I said.
"Tell me."
I sighed, cuddling Uther's arms around me like a blanket. "It's possible that the sidhe that injured you could call the dragon out of your back or force you to shapeshift into one."
Jeremy's eyes widened. "You can do that?"
"I can't, but I'm not a full-blooded sidhe. I've seen similar things done."
"Will the warding hold?"
I'd have liked to have simply said yes, but it was too close to a lie. "It will hold for a
while, but if the sidhe that did the spell is here, he may be powerful enough to breech my magic, or he could simply keep hitting the ward with his own power until he wears the magic away. The chances of the same sidhe being on this hunt are very slim, Jeremy, but I couldn't let you help me, and not ward it."
"Just in case," he said.
I nodded. "Just in case."
"I was very young when this was done, Merry. I can protect myself now."
"You're a powerful magician, but you're not sidhe."
"It makes that big a difference? "he asked.
"It can."
Jeremy fell silent and turned in his seat to help Ringo find the quickest way to the airport.
Uther said, "You are tense."
I smiled up at him. "And you're surprised?"
He smiled, that very human mouth under the curved bone of the tusks, the piggish snout. It was like part of his face was a mask, and underneath was just a man, a big one, but just a man.
He ran thick fingers through my still-wet hair. "I take it Branwyn's Tears were still active when Jeremy went up?"
I'd have never taken time for a shower otherwise, and Uther knew that. "So Jeremy told me." I sat up so that I wasn't soaking his shirt with my hair. "Didn't mean to get you wet. Just forgot. Sorry."
He pressed my head, gently, back to his chest with a hand as big as my head. "I was not complaining, just remarking."
I settled back against him, my cheek resting on his upper arm.
"Roane left just after we arrived. Did he go for help?"
I explained about Roane and his newfound skin.
"You didn't know you could heal him?" Uther asked.
"No."
"Interesting," he said. "Very interesting."
I looked up at him. "Do you know something I don't about what happened?"
He gazed down at me, small eyes almost lost in his face. "I know that Roane is a fool."
That made me stare at him, searching his face, trying to read what lay behind those eyes. "He's a roane, and I've given him back the ocean. It's his calling, his heart of hearts."
"You're not angry with him?"
I frowned, shrugging awkwardly in his arms. "Roane is what he is. I can't blame him for that. It would be like yelling at the rain for being wet. It just is."
"So it does not bother you, at all?"
I shrugged again, and his arms settled around me, cradling me almost like a baby, so I could gaze up at him more comfortably. "I'll admit to being disappointed, but not surprised."
"Very understanding."
"I might as well be understanding, Uther-I can't change things." I rubbed my cheek against the warmth of his arm and realized what part of Uther's charm was. He was so large and I was so small, it was like being a child again. That feeling that if someone could hold you in their arms completely, nothing could hurt you. It hadn't been true when I believed it as a very little girl, and it certainly wasn't true now, but it was still nice. Sometimes false comfort is better than no comfort at all.
"Damn," Jeremy said, raising his voice for our benefit. "There's a wreck up ahead-looks like Sepulveda i
s completely blocked off. We'll try to take side streets around it."
I rolled my head back against Uther's arm to see Jeremy. "Let me guess, everyone else is trying to exit here, too."
"Of course," he said. "Settle in. It's going to take a while."
I moved my head so I was looking up at Uther again. "Heard any good jokes lately?"
He gave a small smile. "No, but my legs are going to fall asleep if I must keep them tucked under like this for long."
"Sorry." I started to move away so he could adjust.
"No need to move." He put one arm under my thighs, kept the other arm behind my back, and picked me up. He held me like a baby, effortlessly, while he straightened his legs out in front of him. He settled me onto his lap, one arm behind my back, the other lying loosely across my
legs and his.
I laughed. "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be... big."
"And I wonder what it would be like to be small."
"But you were a child once. You remember what that was like."
He gazed into the distance. "Childhood was a very long time ago for me, but yes, I do remember. But that is not the kind of small that I mean." He looked down at me, and there was something in his eyes, something lonely, needy. Something that pierced that calmness in him that I valued so much.
"What's wrong, Uther?" My voice was soft. There was something very private about us being back there alone with no one in the middle seats.
His hand rested lightly on my thigh, and I was finally able to read the look in his eyes. It wasn't a look I'd ever seen in Uther's face. I remembered his comment when I was getting fitted for the wire, how he'd wait in the other room because it had been so long since he'd seen a naked woman.
The surprise must have shone on my face, because he turned his face away from me. "I'm sorry, Merry. If this is completely unwelcome, tell me so, and I will never mention it again."
I didn't know what to say, but I tried. "It's not that, Uther. I'm about to get on a plane and go Goddess knows where. We may never see each other again." Which was partially true. I mean, I was leaving town. I couldn't think of any way to finish this in this short drive without hurting his feelings or lying to him. I wanted to avoid both.
He spoke without looking at me. "I thought you were human with some fey blood in you. I would never have suggested this to someone who was raised human. But your reaction to Roane's desertion is proof that you don't think like a human." He turned almost shyly back to me. The look in his eyes was so open, so trusting. It wasn't that he thought I'd say yes. He didn't know, but he was trusting me not to react badly.
It had just been yesterday that I'd first thought of how very alone Uther must be out here on the coast. How many times had I cuddled against him like this, thinking of him as some kind of big brother, a father substitute? Too many. It had been unfair, and he'd always been the perfect gentleman because he thought I was human. Now he knew the truth, and it had changed things. Even if I said no, and he took it well, I'd never be able to treat him this casually again. I'd never be able to cuddle in his big arms in innocence. That was gone. I mourned that, but there was no recovering it. All I could do now was try and keep Uther from getting hurt. The trouble was I didn't know how to do that because I didn't have a clue what to say.
My thinking had taken too long. He closed his eyes and moved his hand off my thigh. "I'm sorry, Merry."
I reached up and touched his chin. "No, Uther, I'm flattered."
He opened his eyes, looked at me, but the hurt was there, plain to see. He'd put his heart on his sleeve, and I'd put a knife through it. Dammit, I was about to get on a plane and never see these people again. I didn't want to leave him like this. He was too good a friend for that.
"I am part human, Uther. I can't..." There was no delicate way to put it. "I can't take the damage that a full-blooded fey could take."
"Damage?"
So much for being coy. "You're too large for my body, Uther. If you were... smaller, I could have sex with you for an afternoon, but I don't see us dating. You're my friend."
He looked at me, gaze searching my face. "You could truly sleep with me and not be repulsed?"
"Repulsed? Uther, you have been too long among the humans. You are a jack-in-irons and you look exactly as you are supposed to look. There are others of your kind. You are not a freak."
He shook his head. "I am exiled, Merry. I can never go back to faerie, and here among the humans I am a freak."
It made my chest tight to hear him say that. "Uther, don't let other people's eyes make you hate yourself."
"How can it not?" he asked.
I laid a hand over his chest, feeling the sure thick beat of his heart. "Inside is Uther, my friend, and I love you as a friend."
"I've been among humans long enough to know what the friend speech means," he said. Again he turned away from me, his body growing stiff and uncomfortable, as if he couldn't bear for me to touch him.
I got to my knees. I would have said I straddled his legs, but the best I could do was to put a knee on each thigh. I touched his face with my hands, exploring the slope of his forehead, the thick eyebrows. I had to lower my arms and come from underneath to trace his cheeks. I ran my thumb along his mouth, rubbing my hands along the smooth bone of the tusks. "You are a handsome jack-in-irons. The double tusk is highly prized. And that curve in the end-the jacks consider it a sign of virility."
"How do you know that?" His voice was soft, a whisper.
"When I was a teenager, the queen took a jack named Yannick as her lover. She said, after she'd been with him, that no sidhe could fill her as her jack of Hearts could." In the end she'd called him her Jack of Fools, and he'd fallen out of favor. He'd gotten away with his life, which was more than most of the queen's non-sidhe lovers managed. The humans usually ended up committing suicide.
Uther stared at me. With me kneeling on his legs we were almost eye to eye. "What did you think of Yannick?" he asked, voice low and lower, so that I had to lean in to hear him.
"I thought he was a fool." I leaned in to kiss him and he turned away. I put a hand on either side of his face and brought him back to face me. "But I thought that all the queen's lovers were fools." I had to sit on Uther's lap, a leg to either side of his waist to get an angle to kiss him. The tusks got in the way for kissing. But if it would take that hurt from his eyes, it would be worth the effort.
I kissed him as my friend. I kissed him because I didn't find him ugly. I'd grown up around fey that made Uther look like a GQ cover boy by human standards. One thing the Unseelie teaches is the love of every form of fey. There is beauty in all of us. Ugly is simply not a word you use at the Unseelie Court. At the Seelie court I was considered ugly, not tall enough, not slender enough, and my hair was the blood auburn of the Unseelie Court, not the more human red of the Seelie Court. Among the Unseelie I hadn't had many "boyfriends" either. Not because they didn't find me attractive, but because I was mortal. A sidhe that was mortal frightened them, I think. They treated it like a contagious disease. Only Griffin had been willing to try, and in the end I hadn't been sidhe enough for him either.
I knew what it was to be forever the outsider, the freak. I put all that into the kiss, closing my eyes, cupping his chin in my hands. I kissed him hard enough to feel how the bones of his upper jaw widened before they curled upward.
Uther kissed like he spoke, carefully, each movement, like each syllable, well thought out. His hands kneaded my lower back, and I could feel the amazing strength in them, the potential in his body to break me like some fragile doll. Only trust would take you to his bed and let you expect to come out the other side unharmed. But I did trust Uther, and I wanted him to believe in himself again.
"I hate to interrupt," Jeremy said, "but there's another wreck up ahead. There's a wreck at every side street we've tried."
I drew back from the kiss. "What did you say?"
"We're two wrecks for two side roads," Jeremy said.
 
; "Coincidence does not stretch so large," Uther said. He kissed me gently on the cheek and let me slide out of the embrace to sit beside him, still staying in the shadow of his energy. The hurt look in his eyes had vanished, leaving something more solid, more sure of itself behind. It had been worth a kiss.
"They know I was at Roane's apartment, but they don't know where I am now. They're trying to cut off all the escape routes."
Jeremy nodded. "Why haven't you sensed them?"
"She's been too busy," Ringo said.
"No," I said. "But as Uther's aura keeps them from spotting me, so his aura interferes with me sensing them."
"If you move away from him, you'll be able to sense them," Jeremy said.
"And they me," I said.
"What do you want me to do?" Ringo asked.
"We seem to be stuck in traffic. I don't think there's anything you can do," I said.
"They've blocked all the roads," Jeremy said. "They'll start searching among the cars now. Eventually, they will find us. We need a plan."
"If Uther will move up with me, I'll look and see if my eyes can sense something that the rest of me can't."
"My pleasure," Uther said, and smiled.
We were both smiling as I crawled into the second row of seats. Uther hovered over the back of the seats, one big hand on my shoulder. There were cars parked on one side of the street, and two lanes of traffic trailing from the streetlight. The reason we weren't moving was a three-car pileup at the light. One car was upside down on the pavement. The second car had smashed into it, and a third into both, so the three cars formed a pile of twisted metal and broken glass. I could visualize how the second and third car smashed into the first. What I couldn't figure out was how that first car had gotten on its side, upside down in the middle of the road. No scenario that I could come up with would have flipped the car dead center into the middle of the road. Flipped it so that it formed as large a barrier across the street as possible. I was betting that someone or some things had turned the car over and let the other cars hit it. They'd formed a dam of machines and bleeding people. As long as they could use glamour to hide themselves and not be blamed, they wouldn't give a damn about injured bystanders. My family-how I hate them sometimes.