Page 59 of The Scald Crow
“He looks after the place. He looks after me. Am I going crazy?” My gaze ventured beyond Colm, but I saw no sign of my little friend.
“You’re not crazy.” He planted a simple kiss on my forehead, enough to ignite the flames. Heat raged between us—so much heat.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” I moistened my lower lip with the tip of my tongue.
“I’m just wondering about this man called Seamus. How did he reveal himself to you?” He considered his words, shadows drifting in his eyes.
“He was here the day I arrived. He’s not tall and wears the strangest clothes, like from another century.” I swept my hair behind my ears and looked at him, really looked at him. Maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t crazy.
“He could be a spirit, but more than likely, he was sent by someone else.” He led me through meadow grass burnished with gold tips.
“He said my father wanted to meet me. Oh, God. It’s true, then. Finvarra is my father. I have to know what happened to Ériu. I have to talk to Orlaith.” I gazed at the smoke curling from the chimney, the purple pansies trailing from each window box, the calla lilies blooming vibrant pink and virgin white.
Colm’s blue rental car sat parked in the courtyard. He had stolen my heart so quickly and confidently. What did I even know about him?
“I’ll go with you. I don’t trust this, Faerie King.” Suspicion coated his words. His chiseled features hardened, and his lips curled into a tight line. He seemed a man used to drawing first blood.
“What does that make me, Colm?” My thoughts danced between realms. The Tuatha. The Dead. And Colm.Where does he belong?
“You’re one of Them, Calla. You’re part of their world.” His gruff voice soothed my spiking emotions. Light returned to his baby blues.
I wondered if I had imagined the whole thing, but the weight stayed put, pressing down and making breathing difficult. Colm wanted something. I closed my eyes and fought the shadows. For him, my “gift” was a means to an end. The heat raging between us could not be denied, but neither could the truth.
“That’s what Saoirse said. She said, ‘You just are.’ How can I be part of an invisible world? What does it mean? What world do I belong to?” I turned into him, drawn to him. I placed my hands on his biceps, fingering the smooth cotton sleeves.
“We’ll figure this out together.” He pulled me close, tucking my head beneath his chin.
“Colm…would you? Would you like to come in? I have tea.” My mind calmed, and I saw a future with him. He had shattered my mind with a single touch.
Sunlight broke through the clouds, lighting every leaf in dappled shades.
“I burn for you,mo ghrá.” He drew his thumb over my lips, tearing my soul to pieces—pieces that belonged to him.
“I’ve never.” Liquid heat flowed through my veins, and desire caught flame.
I should tell him this would be my first time. I swallowed hard, unable to voice the words. My gut burned with indecision, confusion, and shame. I ran through today’s events: my father was an immortal god of theSidhe, and my mother was the princess of the dead,and by the way, I’m a virgin—all that in one day.
“Never what, luv.”He dipped his head, closing his lips over mine, filling me with his taste.
I threw my hands into his thick curls, knocking his hat to the ground, and kissed him back, fully and completely. My tongue found and battled his. A whimper rose low in my throat, hunger burning in my soul.
He came for me. He wanted me. That was all that mattered. I didn’t care about the rest.
“Shh.” He nosed my nape and then traced his lips along my throbbing pulse. “You taste like no other.”
“I want you. I want to be with you.” I inhaled his scent, musk mixed with shadows. I melted into him, wanting what he could give. I yearned for what others took for granted: intimate contact, the shattering pleasure of release.
“And I you.” He glanced in one direction, then the other. He held my hand, leading me away.
“Where are we going?” I would go anywhere with him, and he knew it. I rubbed my forehead, blocking the sun’s rays.
The waterfall trickled down the mountain gash, tumbling onto the stones below. The sun beat down, too strong for late April. I spied the bee hives Dermot Sweet cared for, ten square boxes hidden in overgrown brambles.
We walked across the courtyard and behind the barn, where the grass grew long.
“This will do.” He threw his arms on either side of my shoulders, caging me against the wall.
Only the circling ravens could see. They cawed and screamed, throwing shadows onto the meadow.
