The Ravaged Fairy Read Free Page B

air
accompanied the closing of the front door.
    “I forgot to tell you about...Iníon?
Where are you?”
    She banged her head against the floor. It
couldn’t have been a neighbor or a robber or even God himself at this point.
Anybody would be better to walk through that door than her Gran. Of course, she
had that sort of crappy luck and a gasp echoed.
    “What is going on in here!” her tone
switched to panic. “Get off her. I’ll kill you. Get off of me baby!”
    “Gran!” Breena yelled as Gran swung a
closed umbrella at the unconscious man atop her. Gran’s sight lacked and she
missed them all together. She lost her balanced and landed on her rear beside them.
Her weapon slammed into the chair. The leg splintered and the bowl of broth
landed right in her face. Breena sputtered, coughed and struggled against the
dead weight to no avail. Then Gran’s giggle broke the steady drip of broth from
her head to the floor. Now that she was laughing and broth had drenched her
head, she prayed that he hadn’t woken up. She took a deep breath and glared
down. No, thank God, his eyes were still closed. Seeing her like this would
have ruined the whole trying to be sexy thing.
    “You have the worst luck, Iníon.” Gran
stated the fact as her laughter died down.
    “Don’t I know it.”
    It took nearly half an hour and help from
their neighbor before he was once again on the bed. They simply broke the other
side so it was somewhat even. The thing was still broken but at least it no
longer tossed him to the floor. Breena finished lifting his heavy legs onto the
mattress before she stood and went for a shower. She needed one now that there
was broth in her hair and her forearms ached. With a frustrated growl she
grabbed a new sweater and another pair of jeans. She stuffed black panties and
a black bra in the bundle. Rolled them up and locked herself in the bathroom.
    ****
    They had seen him, Thame’s thoughts were
fuzzy but that single one was loud and clear. Someone had seen him. He wasn’t
alone on the side of the road, the trolls hadn’t found him, and the woman who
tried save him had the deep gray eyes of true beauty. There was no way to
forget the feel of that warm flesh beneath him or that pretty face staring up.
She had these wide eyes and small facial features, her black hair was such a
contrast to her pale skin. Who was she? His mind searched for an answer and
came up with a name. Yes, that’s right she said her name, Breena, Fairy Palace
in Irish. This meant there was a good chance he was still in Ireland.
    He willed his weak muscles to move, but
they refused. Even his lids wouldn’t part to reveal a slither of that warm sunlight
that drenched him. The stitches pulled and made his back ache like flames
licking at his skin. The image of his wings flashed before him, but they were
gone now. Who knew what color would replace them? The trauma could turn them a
shade lighter, darker or give him a red tint. He was rather fond of their
golden tones but at least they would grow back. He felt the bone still there, the
area stung immensely but that meant it remained intact.
    His wings would one day grow and sore him
into the sky. That thought alone, the knowledge he was not permanently
handicapped was such a relief he wanted to sigh. Being unable to move, he could
do no such thing.
    His mind shifted to the fairy kingdom.
The others would no doubt be looking for him and it was highly unlikely they’d
find him. He was their best tracker; therefore, it was up to him to fight this
strong urge to sleep. There was no time to rest, he argued with himself, but
his thoughts slipped further into a dark void. He had to get up and get to the
king. What if the trolls attacked while he was gone? What if one of them was
injured or taken? He should be there beside them, helping. Not in a bed unable
to defend his own back. Darkness slipped passed his control and the thoughts
faded. Sleep captured his strong will.
    There was no way to tell