Authors: Natale Stenzel
“Is this better?” He rested on his elbows, obviously staring down into her face. She sensed a smile in the blurred depths.
“That all depends.” She tightened an arm around his big, naked shoulders, raking the nails of her free hand lightly over his
skin. “Are you going to make love to me now . . . or leave me again?”
He buried his face in her neck, his breath leaving him in a long, heartfelt
whoosh
. “Ah, Mina. It was never a matter of me leaving you.” He kissed her neck and she felt her pulse skittering under his lips.
“I intended for you to fall in love with someone else and leave
me
. Go and be happy and normal. Everything you want. You deserve to be happy. But letting you go to someone else is so damned
hard to do.” He nibbled lower, teeth raking lightly over her throat. “So hard. And when you’re like this I damn well
don’t want
to let you go.”
“Then don’t. Because I’m not going anywhere. And you . . .” She spoke softly, knowing she was fighting dirty. “You made me
a promise. You said you’d never leave me. I intend to hold you to that promise.” A girl had to do what a girl had to do.
“That
is
dirty.” He pulled back slightly to frame her face with his hands. “Ah, Mina. To be a whole man again. To have you and keep
you and never let you go. I want those things more than anything else in the world. But I should be strong enough to break
my promise to you.”
“Gee, that makes sense, ” she teased him softly. “Be man enough to break your promise to me? That’s just wrong, Riordan. Be
man enough to fight for us. Can you do that for me?”
“I want to. I want you.” He lowered his voice. “I’d do anything within my power to have you if I could. Anything.”
“But?”
“Know this, Mina. I love you. I would do anything to ensure your happiness.” He seemed to wrestle with himself. “But, dear
god, I have to have you. I’m that weak.” He groaned. “So be it.”
And suddenly his touch was everywhere, inciting a riot of sensation all over her body, from sensitive fingers inching under
her top, dragging it up toward her breasts, to wildly talented mouth devouring her lips, her chin, her neck. He dragged her
shirt off and, chest shuddering with his breath, slowly lowered his face to her breasts, letting his breath warm them. Rasping
breath. Hungry and panting and she met him, breath for breath, heartbeat to heartbeat.
“Make love to me, Riordan. I need you.”
“I will. I don’t think I could stop now if I tried. God forgive me. Mina forgive me.”
“Ha.” She gasped when his mouth closed over a nipple through the lace of her bra. “Just you try stopping and see if I forgive
you then.”
But soon she was beyond speech, almost beyond thought. Riordan seemed to have more hands, more mouths than any mere man. Still
seducing one nipple with his mouth, he managed to rake the rest of her clothes off. Soon, she was as nude as he was, arms
and legs wrapped shamelessly around him, as though she could stop him from leaving her.
I won’t leave you.
“I know. I believe you. Ooh.” She inhaled sharply when his hands dragged their way, slowly, up the inside of her thighs, to
part them wide.
“Pretty, pretty Mina.”
She choked off a laugh, both embarrassed and aroused to near insanity. “You just haven’t seen one in a few centuries.”
“Not true.”
“Do I want to know any more?”
He laughed, still so obviously eyeing her body, his hands gentle and affectionate. “Probably not. Let’s just say I haven’t
touched one in centuries. But this . . . why, this was worth waiting for.” Brushing her thighs with one hand, he explored
her with the other, his fingers carefully trailing through the curls, subtly teasing with gentle tugs, tiny caresses. Wondering
fingers rediscovered, marveled, experimented and played. Light strokes flirted with curls before burrowing closer, feinting
left . . . drawing closer still . . . then, deliberately, slowly . . . traced a devastating line down the tight, aching nub
of her center.
She gasped. Oh, yeah. Here was a man who hadn’t played with a woman’s body in centuries and centuries. And she would be his
feast after the famine. Mina felt her orgasm approaching, just at the thought of it. Hers was the first one he’d had in eons.
Riordan chuckled. “That turns you on?”
She shuddered. “Yeah. So maybe I’m shallow.”
“Mmmmm. Think so? Maybe I should check.”
Mina arched her hips, coaxing that finger to return for a like caress, but this time it was bolder, inserting itself slightly
into her wet opening. She panted, trying desperately not to shriek at him just to—
He buried the finger deep, pulled it out wet, and then sank it even deeper. As she thrashed on the bed, feeling her body warring
with itself, on the verge of an orgasm she’d wanted to slow down and savor . . . wait for him . . .
His lips touched her then and she screamed silently, shuddering as a tongue slipped in to join lips and fingers. The confusion
of sensation won an immediate, almost violent orgasm from her shuddering body. As he wrung the last spasms from her, she closed
her thighs over hands that still gently caressed. She opened her eyes to see him, but his head was still bowed and she saw
only his dark hair and a silhouette in the shadowed bedroom.
“Now? Please, Riordan. Come into me now.”
“My pleasure. Honestly. All my pleasure. That was beautiful.” He slid higher on top of her, raining kisses as he went. He
brought her hands high over her head to twine their fingers together as he slowly thrust himself into her body.
As he stretched her, she felt a zing of pleasure shoot from his body to hers. An aftershock and more. She arched her hips
into his, and he surrendered to the pleasure, letting her take his weight as his hips thrust repeatedly against hers. He filled
her again and again, savoring every stroke until, with a hoarse shout, he buried himself deep inside her body, shuddering.
“I love you, Riordan.” She whispered it into his ear, so close to hers.
“And I love you. More than life itself.”
Riordan kept his face turned into her neck, wishing, wishing for so much. A lifetime of moments like this. With Mina. He didn’t
care about the power and freedom that the Druids would almost certainly forbid him now. He’d wondered, suspected . . . and
now he knew. He’d felt the telltale
zing
and tug when they’d made love, felt the shifting of magic that suggested he’d somehow broken the geas. Again. Thanks to his
actions tonight, he could practically guarantee that he would never again see the light of day after November 1.
But she’d been worth it. Every minute of their time together had been a lifetime of joy. An eternity of it. It would have
to last him. But would she ever forgive him?
“Hey.” Mina slid her fingers through his hair, gently coaxing him to turn his face to hers. He didn’t want to. As much as
he wanted to see her lovely face, he knew what she would see when he did.
“Mina mine.” He whispered the words into her moist skin. Moist with their love. “I do love you.”
“Aw, Riordan, you say the sweetest things.” She was teasing, but he could hear the thickness in her voice. The woman just
hated to go soft on him. He loved that about her too.
“If I could, I’d give you sweet words, loving kisses, all the riches and joys the universe contains. You know that, don’t
you?” Even he could hear the fierceness in his voice. He couldn’t help it. Somehow the time for smart-ass comments and bawdy
humor just seemed past. At least for tonight.
“Riordan? You sound strange tonight. Is something wrong?”
Oh, yes. And oh, no. Heaven and hell in one beautiful conjunction. And, as sure as he breathed, he knew which realm he represented
for her. After tonight, it could be that she’d grow to agree with him. That hurt the most of all.
Still, she deserved to know the truth. He raised his head and turned his face to hers.
She froze, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing in shock. Snatching the sheet convulsively, she pulled away from him.
“
Teague
?”
“I believe I once told you I was known by several names.”
Mina choked. Then, holding the sheet close, she tossed the covers and the man—whoever the hell he was—aside. He scrambled
after her.
Still, Mina backed away from him, the sheet clutched high, and stopped only when her back hit the rough wall. She heard the
lamp rocking on her dresser, tipping until Teague . . . Riordan . . . stilled it with a big hand. He turned that familiar
gaze on her. The green eyes. But flecked now with gold. The dark curls. A combination of Teague’s face and eyes . . . and
Riordan’s dark curls. “How? . . . Why?”
“Okay, take it easy a minute.” It was Teague’s voice, complicated by the more formal timbre of Riordan’s. And yet, he sounded
normal and soothing. Even rational.
“No. I will not take it easy. Just what the hell is going on here? Who—oh, god, but I swore I’d never be the kind of woman
who had to ask this, but exactly who did I sleep with tonight? Who the hell are you?”
“Well, not Bob. Not really. Robert Goodfellow was more of a joke of a nickname long ago bestowed on me by the locals after
my disgrace.
“As for the other names . . . My mother, a human long dead, called me Teague. I was always called Riordan or Rioghbardon by
my father and acquaintances. They all mean poet—or royal poet. It was the gift bestowed upon me at birth.” He shrugged. “Not
that I ever lived up to that gift or anything else I planned for my life.”
“So I’m not feeling real sensitive right now, but I don’t give a shit about your poetry or your dreams. I want to know who
the hell I got naked with tonight. It’s a reasonable question.”
“Yeah, it is. And I’m stalling because it’s complicated and I screwed up. Obviously. The truth is, I am both. I am Teague
and I am Riordan.”
“And you were going to tell me all this
when
?” She glanced meaningfully at the bed.
“I don’t know. Originally . . . never.”
“Oh. Gee. I feel so much better now.” She tugged the sheet closer. At least a tramp could count on her lover being mortal
and of the same species. What sort of obscene depravity had she committed, anyway? “Just what exactly are you? A freaking
horse, a man, a figment of my imagination, what?”
“I am a puca. A shape-shifter. Cursed by a Druid to live a fragmented existence. Part of me mortal and part not.”
“Huh?”
“The part of me you know as Teague is mortal. Thirty-four years ago, a man named Teague was born to the family he told you
about—
I
told you about—and he’ll live for another forty or fifty years before his body dies. His half of our soul will be reborn into
another baby, who will also be named Teague.” He spoke calmly as though reciting a weather report.
“The part you know as Riordan . . . that’s my immortal part. As close to the real me as I can be without actually being whole.
My powers, my heritage, my personality, even my memories all exist inside this form.” He paused. “Before I screwed up two
thousand years ago, these two were joined. I never died, but I could live and walk and talk in the free world as a man, and
invoke my powers whenever I wished.”
“How is that different from now?”
“This half of me, the puca half, was insubstantial and powerless until you released me from the cornerstone. Once you released
me, I regained many of my powers but was still fragmented in soul, limited as a corporeal being, and bound indefinitely to
you. Other restrictions, intended to protect you, also applied. Like, for example, the blurred face. The only reason you can
see my face right now is because we made love.”
“So we let that sacred cow out of the barn ourselves, huh? Well, I sure wish I could undo that now.”
“I know.”
“So you lied to me, all the time, in every form.”
“That’s not true.”
“Gee. So maybe it was lie by omission. What I don’t get now is
why
? Why bother? After all the weirdness you made me believe, this was just one more detail. I mean, how hard could it be? A
mild little ‘hey, honey, you know how most people are just themselves? Well, there are two of me. Sort of.’ Okay, so it might
have been complicated, but damn it, I thought we were in this together. I deserved to know the full truth.” Before I fell
in love with you.
He lowered his gaze. “I can still read your thoughts.”
She lobbed the lamp at him. Naturally he caught it.
“I’m sorry.” He set the lamp down. “I thought you should know.”
“I should have known a lot of things.” Carefully, deliberately, she imagined a steel-plated wall, joined by three others just
like it, and lowered it in her mind to encase her thoughts. Then she slapped an airtight floor and ceiling on it, creating
every banker’s dream of an impregnable vault. Worked much better than flimsy cubicles, she decided.
He watched her, obviously well aware that she’d shut him out. She hadn’t closed him off this completely since he’d shown her
how to do it. Little by little, she’d given up even wanting him out of her thoughts.
She regretted that intimacy now.
“I know you have regrets.”
She jumped.
“I can’t read your thoughts. You shut me out. But your face is another matter. I see regret all over it. I’m sorry for that.
More than you know. But I can’t even promise that I would have acted any differently had I known how this would turn out.
I wouldn’t have missed what we’ve shared for the world. Even for my powers and my freedom back.” He quirked the corner of
his mouth in a smile so forced it obviously hurt.
He looked so sad. And lost.
Resigned.
But Riordan never, ever resigned himself to anything. Never. Something, other than the obvious disagreement, was horribly,
terribly wrong. “What else is going on? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing important, Mina. I just want you to know that this wasn’t casual for me. I love you. More than I thought I was capable
of loving anyone. After all this time, I was pretty damn sure I’d become no better than the beasts I can resemble. Somehow,
you made all that fade away and I once more became Riordan the man.” Again, that smile that hurt her now. “Instead of the
BobGoblin.”
Mina tried to harden herself against him, but it was impossible. Even the vault she’d built in her mind weakened and diminished.
He’d known so much misery already. No, he wasn’t the beast, or even the caricature of himself he’d invented as a defense against
the world, the disbelief, the years and the loneliness. So much loneliness. How had he stood it?
“You chased away the loneliness for me. That was worth everything.”
There was a finality in his tone that chilled her to the core. Then the import of his words registered. “Everything? What
do you mean everything? What have you done? What did we do?” She stared. Into his face. “Oh, Riordan. Why is it that I can
see your face now? I thought it was because sex broke the curse, that you slept with me to get your life back, but—Oh, god.
It’s not, is it? What did we do?”
“It’s over. That’s all. Come November first, you’ll have every bit of normalcy you ever wanted.” He shrugged and looked away.
“If you want Jackson back, I’m sure he’d come running. You could marry him, end your guardianship duties, and live the life
you want. The man has seen the light for real, you know.”
“I don’t want Jackson.”
He turned back to her. “What do you want, then?”
“I don’t know anymore. I used to know.”
“I’ve killed it all? What about your beliefs? Your dreams?”
“I don’t know. I—
Riordan
?” She stared, horrified, as his body seemed to fade at the edges. “What’s going on? Are you leaving now? Well, that’s cheap.
We’re still in the middle of an argument and I still have questions—”
He was shaking his head. He was almost translucent now and as serious as she’d ever seen him. “I have no choice.” He glanced
at the cornerstone she still kept on her dresser.
Mina followed his gaze, comprehension thudding heavily in her stomach. “
No
. Disembodiment? That’s what you meant by over. You knew this would happen.”
“I suspected as much.”
She stumbled toward him as his image grew increasingly faint, all but his eyes. He stared at her for a moment, his eyes so
fierce, green flashing gold. Teague’s eyes, with Riordan’s passion and so much sadness. Then he dipped his head and he was
gone.
“
No
.” She stared, hard, trying to see the outline that used to be there, even passed her hand through it. Not even a crackle
of magic, like the first time she’d touched his face. Just emptiness.
She had to do something—“Speak of the devil.” She waited, heart pounding. Hoping. Nothing. “
Speak of the
devil, damn it!
” Her voice was shrill in the silence of the room. She waited a moment. Nothing. He was really gone.
All thanks to some bossy damn Druids, interfering in her life and her happiness. “Damn it. Damn all of you nature-worshipping,
life-ruining hypocrites. How
dare
you dictate my life and my obligations and then rip everything apart when it suits you and your sadistic code of justice?
Justice, my big white ass. Who made
you
judge and jury?
“
I
didn’t. I’m just a damn schoolteacher and you go and make me guardian to a puca. Without my consent. But I did it and I tried
to do right by him. I didn’t mean to fall in love with him, but now that I have, we deserve a chance. He’s different. He’s
changed. Whatever he did in the past, he’s learned from it. Give him back to me.”
You still want me? But I lied to you.
She froze, glancing feverishly around the room. “You can still speak to me?”
Yes. Like this.
She took a deep breath. And then another. At least she wasn’t denied all contact with him. Just the physical kind.
Which really and truly sucked, by the way.
You don’t hate me.
He sounded wondering.
“No, damn it. I don’t hate you. I love you. I’m just really, really pissed at you and even more pissed that you don’t have
a neck I can strangle right now.” Still, her throat tightened until the tears slid down her cheeks and she dropped back to
the bed. “Oh, Riordan. You knew what would happen and yet you still . . . Was it worth it? One night together like this ending
so badly and so permanently?”
Mina mine. Yes, of course, it was worth it. I love you. Always.
I wouldn’t have traded this time with you for anything in
the world.
“But this . . . I seduced you and now you . . . I swear I never would have tried if I’d known. But you knew. So why did you
tease me early on about jumping in the sack? You didn’t know me then. For all you knew, I was the kinky type to jump at a
one-night-stand with a shape-shifter. And poof, you’d be back in your stone and I probably would have just tossed the stone
and assumed you were a figment of my imagination. What if I were like that? What would you have done?”
You’re not. I knew it then and I know it now. I was inside your
thoughts, remember? As for the rest, I was just . . . teasing you. I
never knew we’d actually make love.
“Well, damn it, we shouldn’t have. I wouldn’t have you tossed back in that damned cornerstone for the world. Don’t you know
that? All you had to do was tell me this would happen. You could still be at least somewhat free.”
I know. But I have no regrets, other than hurting you. I would
have regretted rejecting you, though. I would have regretted not
making love to you.
“Oh.” Her heart trembled, just a little. “So. Um.” She took a deep breath, trying to choke back the tears that wanted to continue
well past the point of productivity. “So tell me, why all of this? Why did you pursue me as Teague? Were you trying to drive
me crazy? I thought I was torn between two men for a while there. It wasn’t exactly comfort able. Were you intending me to
actually marry your mortal half? That’s really kind of icky.”
No, I wasn’t. It’s a lot more complicated than that. First, you
have to understand that Teague didn’t know the whole story. He
really and truly is a human born thirty-four years ago. But he’s
always felt like his life was incomplete, that he was missing part
of himself. In actuality, he was: the magical half of himself. Of
his soul. Of my soul.
“One soul, two consciousnesses. Is that possible? Two minds thinking different things at the same time? Two agendas? Two of
everything?”
Not of everything. Teague’s had visions. Always. You were in
those visions. And he didn’t recognize it at first, but I was part of
those visions, too. He knew he had something to accomplish and
regain, but he didn’t catch on to any details until recently.
These experiments . . . we weren’t breaking the curse, but I do
believe we were breaking through some barriers in Teague’s
mind—the mind of my other half. He and I were reconnecting in
those visions. He was very confused. He still wanted you. How
could he not? After all, I’m in love with you and have been almost
from the very beginning. As my other half, he couldn’t help but
have feelings for you, too.
Mina rubbed her temples, trying to ease the ache building there. She had about as much luck with that as she was having easing
the pain in her heart. “Do you know how hard it is to think of the two of you as one?”
I can only imagine. But Mina . . . I have another confession to
make. You may hate me when I tell you, but at this point, I can’t
lie to you any longer. Because of the lie, I may very well be thoroughly
damned anyway. And you have the right to hear all of this
from me first.
Mina tried to brace herself. Could it be any worse than finding out her puca and her studly sometimes-date were one and the
same guy?
Maybe. You see, Teague didn’t consciously know about me. But
I knew about him. I influenced his visions and pushed you toward
him on purpose. I was hoping . . . Well, I was hoping you’d see
your puca as an obstacle to anything progressing with Teague.
And you’d seek to free me in order to get rid of me.