To hell and back, thought Will, falling into step. Every part of her movement was entrancing, from her graceful stride to the way her hair shifted from side to side, giving him glimpses of her shoulders that made him want to take hold of her.
The candle flame was burning fiercely, twice as large as normal. It rose and fell to a slow, deep rhythm that matched his heartbeat. Seeing its odd behavior distracted him for a moment and he felt his lustful urge fade slightly. He focused on her feet after that, afraid he might lose his mind if he let his eyes drift upward again.
Damn, even her heels are beautiful.
Logically, he knew that the way back should be the same as the way he had come, but nothing seemed familiar. They walked for nearly half an hour, and when asked, Tailtiu assured him that they were taking the shortest path back to his world. She wouldn’t lie, would she? he wondered. She shouldn’t have any reason to.
The wind picked up suddenly, changing from a pleasant breeze to harsh gale, picking up the leaves and whipping them violently through the air. The trees bent under its strength, and Will was forced to lift his arm in order to shield his eyes. Tailtiu looked back at him, alarm written on her face.
“He comes!” she cried.
“Who?” asked Will, confused and suddenly anxious.
“Elthas, lord of this place,” she explained.
“We should run,” suggested Will.
Tailtiu shook her head. “It is too late. Forgive me. This is the fault of my greed, hoping to keep you for myself.” Without warning, she leapt toward him.
Will struggled to avoid her, but the fae woman was fast, and once her hands were on him he discovered she was far stronger as well. Grabbing his head, she pulled it forward and planted her lips atop his.
Fire burned through him, sending waves of pleasure from his head to his toes. Her tongue danced between his lips, and the intensity of the sensation was so great that it became painful. It was ecstasy, a pleasure unlike anything he had ever experienced in his not-quite fourteen years.
And it was killing him.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the candle where it had fallen. Its flame dimmed and grew gradually smaller. He wondered how long it would take before it vanished entirely. Somewhere deep down, he wanted it to stop, wanted to push her away, but his arms had lost their strength.
Then she released him. Will fell to his knees, washed out and feeble. The air felt colder now and he shivered. Staring up at Tailtiu, he accused her, “I didn’t give you permission.”
“I owe you a debt then, manling,” she replied, a strange light in her eyes.
“Who is this?” said a deep and frighteningly masculine voice behind him.
Weary to his bones, Will turned his head to see the man who had appeared behind him. The figure who stood there was tall, taller than Eric’s dad, and he was also mostly nude. The newcomer had some clothing, if it could be called that—a leafy mantle that covered his shoulders and ran down his back. But it failed to obscure the more pertinent details of his manhood.
Will held up one hand briefly. “Hello.”
The stranger stared down a long, arrogant nose at Will, and one corner of his mouth quirked up into a devious smirk. It was then that Will noticed his hair was green, and the multitude of leaves around his shoulders were growing from him, rather than being a separate article of clothing.
Glancing back, he could see that Tailtiu was kneeling, her eyes on the ground. “My lord, I found a manling within your demesne.”
“Yet you didn’t see fit to bring him before me, did you, child?” responded the fae lord.
“I owe him a debt,” responded Tailtiu. “I was forced to lead him home.”
“Nothing is owed to the dead,” said the man looming over them. “Trespassers belong to me.”
“I’ve done you no wrong, Lord Elthas,” said Will abruptly. “I didn’t know where I was.”
“Silence,” barked Elthas. “Do not taint my name with your tongue.” Moving around him, the fae lord examined him, taking note of his candle and the axe in his hand. “A mageling, I see. It has been a while since one has been foolish enough to tempt my wrath, and you come bearing iron as well. Did you think that would protect you from me?”
“I meant no disrespect, sir,” said Will. “I came here by accident.” Following Tailtiu’s example, he kept his face to the ground, but in his peripheral vision he could see more feet around him. Elthas had brought a host of servants with him.
Elthas laughed. “The hunter has no need of excuses. You are prey to me, manling. All I require of you is your life.” The fae lord looked at the candle. “What’s left of it, at least. Tailtiu has stolen some of my reward already.”
A new voice called out from the trees. “The only reward you’ll be getting is my foot up your ass, Elthas.” Will recognized it at once. It was his grandfather.
Chapter 12
“You dare show your face here, Arrogan?” said the fae lord, his voice deepening with anger. He hadn’t bothered turning around yet, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on Will.
The fae circling them opened up, and Will saw his grandfather walking forward, his face smooth and confident. He had to admit that the old man seemed sure of himself. He almost looked heroic, except for the ridiculous deer horns strapped to his head. “I’ll make an ass of myself wherever I please,” announced his grandfather. “My face is just tagging along for the show.”
Elthas turned then, and his face darkened when he saw the horns. “You’ve gone too far this time, old man.”
Will’s grandfather winked and lifted his hand to touch one of the antlers. “You mean these? I’m the sentimental sort. I keep them around to scratch my backside. They really help to get to those hard to reach places. I’m sure you understand.”
Will could see the turyn gathering around Elthas, streamers of power so intense they almost blinded him. The fae lord’s power wove in and out, and then shot toward the earth at his grandfather’s feet. Vines sprouted from the soil, but they didn’t touch his grandfather; instead they snaked away from him, racing across the ground to bind the ankles and legs of the observers.
“Want to try again?” asked the old man. “Maybe this time I’ll take the only horn you have left.” His eyes traveled downward to stop on Elthas’ disturbingly tumescent manhood.
“You’re bluffing,” said Elthas, but he didn’t attack again. “You’re long past your prime. Your flame is dying, just like the boy’s.”
“Think so?” asked his grandfather calmly. “You’re welcome to test me. But I promise you, I only need a spark to whip your ass. I’ll kick your teeth so far down your throat you’ll be shitting them out for a week.” He looked past Elthas. “Get up, Will. We’re going home.”
Will struggled to his feet, gathering up the candle and axe. He shuffled forward. “Yes, Grandfather.”
The fae lord’s hand shot out, circling his neck. Will could feel the man’s sharp nails against his throat. “Grandfather?” said the fae lord, a wicked smile crawling across his face. “This child is of your line, Arrogan?”
His grandfather’s eyes shot daggers of hate at him. “Didn’t I fucking tell you to call me ‘Master’ when others were around?”