The Glass Man (27 page)

I squeezed him back.

I thought about what would happen next, overwhelmed by the task that still lay ahead and the expectations pressing down on me.
We’re alive. That’s more than I’d hoped for.
When my eyes closed the night Parthalan died, I thought I’d never see another sunrise. “What happens now?”

“I killed the king,” Liam said as if that should answer my question.

I pushed myself up so I could look at him. “You say that like its significant.”

“Anyone strong enough to kill a king or queen earns their place on the throne.”

I rolled off him and knelt on the moss facing away. My chest tightened as I thought it through. “So—you’re saying you’re the new Unseelie king?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

I closed my eyes. After everything we’d been through, Parthalan would still take Liam away from me. I scrambled to my feet, wrestling with my thoughts.

“What’s the matter?” Liam came up behind me. “I thought you’d be happy about this. We can work things out together now.”

Oh, hell.
I couldn’t help the sense of loss niggling my heart. “I—I’m sorry. I’m acting like an idiot again. Congratulations.” I opened my eyes, turned and smiled to force away the tears. “I couldn’t think of a better fae for the job.”

He held my chin and forced me to look at him. “Tell me.”

I twisted free of his grasp. After a few deep breaths, I forced the words out. “I don’t want you to go, all right? I thought we might—you know—spend some time together now. Like, for a long time.”

He laughed, his eyes reflecting it. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear those words from your mouth.”

I scowled at him. “Great. I finally spill my guts to you and you laugh.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” He hugged me, though my body remained stiff. “You’ve made me shiver, talking that way.”

I relented and molded against him. “Why didn’t the Goddess mate us again?”

He sighed as if he’d been waiting for me to ask. “She can’t. At least not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Without threatening death on them, my people won’t accept you as their queen, and your people won’t allow me to be your consort. We can’t force this on them, or we’d be no better than Parthalan.”

My throat constricted. “Are you saying we can’t be together?”

“No, I’m not saying that. Just not yet, not formally anyway. Remember, you’re supposed to be the bridge that brings our Courts back together. Until then, we’ll see each other—quietly.”

“I don’t believe this.” I wiped a hand down my face to prevent my frustration from showing. “I hate sneaking around. It’s like admitting we’re doing something wrong.”

“It will take time to change two headstrong nations. We have to be patient, take baby steps to lead them into a new era, and then we’ll lead them together.” He wore a knowing grin. “If you had a choice between discretion and never doing what we just did again until we fix things, what would you choose?”

Hell. What can I say?
I’d have sooner gone without air or water than have to refrain from touching him that way. Although I didn’t like it, he was right about forcing the issue. I wouldn’t be a dictator like Parthalan. I sighed. “Fine, you win. We’ll sneak around like horny teenagers until the fae get their heads out of their asses.”

“Mmm, horny teenagers. I would have said lovesick fools, but I’ll go with that.”

Shadows crept around my memories. They’d been lingering since I woke up, but they wouldn’t be ignored any longer. “What did you do with Parthalan’s body?”

Liam made an abrupt about-face and gathered up his clothes. He put them on as he found them, looking everywhere but at me.

I squinted at him, studied the deepening furrows in his brow. “Liam?”

He stopped and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I wanted to wait until I knew for sure before I said anything.”

I pressed my palms against my forehead. “Tell me you had someone get his body and destroy it.”

“When Cas and Donovan went back—” he sat on the moss, pulling his shoes on. “The dent in the street was there and lots of blood, but his body was gone.”

“Bain!” I clenched my fists.

“That’s what we think. He’s sealed off the Cargun side of the city somehow. We haven’t seen any of the Sluagh since that night.”

Not enough air.
I paced, shook my hands and cracked my neck so I wouldn’t hit something to relieve the pressure filling me like flames.

Liam grabbed me and forced my eyes to his.

“If he comes back as Sluagh, you own him. Remember, you command them now.”

His words sort of made sense to me, and my hyperventilating dwindled back to normal breathing. “I guess. But the thought of seeing him again …”

Sickness permeated my soul as I gathered my clothes and put them back on. Liam and I walked to the portal hand in hand, my feet dragging to stretch out our last moments. When we arrived, I found Donovan waiting for us.

“Tell me you’re not leaving, too?” My mood drooped even further into the black pit.

Donovan approached at a jog, kissed me on each cheek. “Until I’m a welcome visitor, I’ll keep my distance from Dun Bray, but I’ll see you—” He gazed up. “—and the rest of our family often one way or another.” He wrapped his arms around me, held me until I smiled. Before he let me go, he whispered, “You’ve made an old fae very proud young lady, but if you ever scare me like that again, I’ll ground you for a century.”

We laughed and wiped away a happy tear or two.

“Whatever you decide to do about the humans, the Unseelie will support you.” Liam planted one last lingering kiss on my lips. He slipped a small silver square into my hand. It looked similar to a cell phone, but none of the networks operated anymore.

“What is it?” I turned it over in my hand.

“It can create a temporary metaphysical link between us so we can arrange our battle strategies.” He gave me a corny double-eyebrow-raise, winked.

Ahh—crafty.
“Nifty.” I smirked as I considered the possibilities.

Donovan went through the door first, followed by Liam, who paused halfway through and looked back. He stood straighter, more confident if that was possible with him. He appeared regal, a look befitting a king. He pressed his fingers to his lips and extended them to me as he closed the door behind him.

I slumped down against one of the shifters. So many lost in my name. Somehow I had to pay tribute to my brothers, to the shifters and selkies, and save the humans from the damage Parthalan left behind. I had to be strong, to earn the trust they’d all given me.

Liam’s masculine scent clung to me, bringing a smile to my lips and warmth to my body. I lay along the cobblestone and stared at the golden sky. Tension eased out of my shoulders. The future suddenly didn’t seem as dark as it once had. Two prejudiced nations stood between us, but with Liam’s help, we would lead them into a new era of peace.

He loved me. I couldn’t think of a better motivator than that.

Acknowledgements

It’s amazing what can change in one year with enough determination and perseverance. I started writing seriously in August of 2010 and happened upon the writing group my lovely and talented friend, Rebecca Hart, dubbed The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pens. Waves to you!

To the witty and hilarious Pam Bitner whom I loved and cursed (usually at the same time) when she made me work for the final product you’re about to read—I bow to you. To Aimee Laine, without whom I never would have grasped the difference between showing and telling, or how to use the comma correctly (that little twerp of a punctuation point and I still don’t always get along well)—you are my teacher, my moral support and my mentor all in one. You’re awesome. To Rebecca Hart, your wisdom and dedication to seeing me through to the last page will never be forgotten. To Della Odell, Larry Royce, Ruth Steven, Emma Madden and Stephanie Pleli who stuck with me through my blips and changes and rewrites—I’ll never forget your encouragement and enthusiasm and, without which, The Glass Man would still be a work in progress buried in the depths of my laptop.

To the brilliant and understanding folks at J. Taylor Publishing, who took a chance on this total noob, answered my millions of questions without complaint and gave me the tools and confidence to do this thing—you rock!

Lastly, I give thanks to my family who must have days when they forget I’m there, save for the clacking at my keyboard. Without your patience and support, I never would have succeeded.

Jocelyn Adams

Jocelyn Adams grew up on a cattle farm in Lakefield and has remained a resident of Southern Ontario her entire life, most recently in Muskoka. She has worked as a computer geek, a stable hand, a secretary, and spent most of her childhood buried up to the waist in an old car or tractor engine with her mechanically inclined dad. But mostly, she’s a dreamer with a vivid imagination and a love for fantasy (and a closet romantic — shhh!). When she isn’t shooting her compound bow in competition or writing, she hangs out with her husband and young daughter at their little house in the woods.

December 2011

February 2012