Chapter 4
Maddox
“Prevalent in the rivers and lakes around Rosehill City, trout are among the most beautiful fish in Seelie waters.”
— Flora and Fauna of the Seelie Lands
Wine. Grapes. Tiny cakes the size of my thumb.
None of the fare packed in this basket appeals to me. This day is not turning out how I hoped it would.
Reality can be so disappointing.
I dig to the bottom of the basket for the metal contraption the Seelie use to remove the cork from the tops of their bottles. I tasted their wine once before and found it to be a vile drink, but since I forgot my flask of potable water back in the garden, this will have to suffice.
Each time I try to pierce the cork, the damn thing falls right back out.
How angry would Ever be if I broke the top of the bottle clean off?
“Hello.” The high-pitched greeting leaves me twisting toward a Seelie fae with hair the color of fire. They are all short, but this one looks almost as small as Kerris Dawn.
“Would you like some help with that?” She kneels on our blanket without invitation and takes the useless metal from my hand. “I’m Amber.”
Why is she telling me this when I did not ask?
With a few twists, the cork is free, and she is handing back the bottle.
“What’s your name?” She blinks like there is something stuck in her lashes.
One time, I had a spiderweb in mine, and it was awful.
Not because I fear spiders. That would be foolish when all I need is to crush them beneath my boots.
However, they can catch you unawares, which is startling.
I see no spiderwebs in her eyes.
“Your name?” she asks again with a breathy laugh.
“I am Maddox Finch.”
“Nice to meet you, Maddox. My friends and I thought you looked lonely over here all by yourself and were wondering if you might like to come and sit with us?” She nods toward a blanket with a female perched on each corner.
Two are wearing similar costumes to Nia’s, while the others wear floaty dresses like this Amber one.
“I already have a seat.” And there is no one taking up all the room on this blanket. Theirs would be far too crowded for me as well.
“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” She skips back to the other females, and they all lean toward her with the giggles.
Seelie fae are always giggling.
I take a swig of Seelie wine . . .
And then spit it right back out onto the grass. Just as revolting as I remember, like vinegar and sour fruit. There is nothing to like about this drink.
There is, however, everything to like about the view, especially when Nia emerges from the quarry lake, her skin glistening as drops of water race down her slopes and valleys. A race my hands long to run.
She moves like a panther, graceful and dangerous to Unseelie hearts like mine.
The Nolan does not leave the water, which is a stroke of luck indeed. It would be difficult to make her care for me with the Nolan breathing down my neck.
Nia kneels on the edge of her own blanket to withdraw a towel from her woven bag, draping the fabric over her shoulders. “I see you have some new admirers.”
The five females show off their flat-toothed smiles. When they catch me glancing their way, they wiggle their fingers in a strange wave of sorts. They are fair, but none hold my attention like the one reaching for the bottle still clasped in my hand.
Somehow, Nia manages to drink the wine without making a face. Setting the bottle aside once more, she cups the ends of her wet curls in her delicate hands and squeezes so they spring tighter. I bet her hair is very soft. She usually wears ribbons in her curls, but not this day.
“I’ve always wanted colorful hair,” she says with her nose scrunched.
I love her hair—love everything about her, really. There is not one thing I would change about Nia Quill besides her affection for the Nolan. “Your hair is perfect. Reminds me of Biscuits.”
Her brows lift over wide eyes the color of a bee’s honey. “Did you just compare me to your goat?”
She says this like it was not a compliment. “I believe you mean the finest goat in all the realm.”
“The ugliest, maybe.”
It is a good thing that my Biscuits is not around to hear such terrible words. Nia has only met my Biscuits once. He has not yet had a chance to impress her.
She stretches the towel over her blanket and then settles herself on top. I have never wished to be anything other than Unseelie, but on this day, I would not have minded being born a towel.
“Are you excited?” I ask, hoping her distraction will aid in my venture to win her heart.
The smooth expanse of her flat stomach stretches as she lays down on her back. “For what?”
“Your birthday.”
Lips I long to feel beneath my own turn down. “It’s not until the twenty-fourth.”
Ha! Victory at last.
Her eyes widen. “You cad!” She rips a handful of grass from the ground, throwing the blades at me. They flutter like flakes of green snow over my trousers. “That was sneaky.”
“I believe you mean clever.” There are only three weeks left until the anniversary of her birth. Three weeks to convince this perfect female that I would be a better mate than the Nolan. Difficult, but not impossible.
Her laughter is a wild, borderline feral sound, unrestrained and full of warmth. “You really don’t know how to take a hint, do you? I’m not interested in you, Maddox.”
Those words sting, but only a little. I am not a fool. I can see that she is enamored with the short Nolan. But affections fade. That is a lesson I know all too well.
She tips her chin toward the other Seelie females. “However, they seem very intrigued.”
The Amber one wiggles her fingers once more, and the rest of her small friends are once again overcome with giggles.
“Why don’t you go sit with them?”
Because I cannot stare at Nia from all the way over there. Not that she wishes to be stared at by me.
Perhaps I should go sit with them. What is the harm in getting to know more Seelie fae? Nia is clearly not ready to let me into her heart.
Sighing, I roll to my feet and trudge over to the crowded blanket.
“Well, well. Maddox Finch. We’re so glad you came to see us. Who was that you were with?” the Amber one asks, glancing past me to where Nia does not even seem to realize I am gone.
“That is Nia Quill.”
“Are the two of you together?”
In my dreams only. “She is my friend’s cousin.”
This fact makes Amber’s smile widen as she pats a free space on the blanket next to her. “Sit?”
The Nolan has returned to Nia’s side, so I do not want to go back there. I settle between these females, half-listening to their names as they introduce themselves.
They offer grapes, but I decline. There are times when grapes taste sweet and other times when they are very sour.
There is no telling which type of grape these are, so I should not eat them with an audience.
These Seelie would not be impressed if I found a sour one and spit it out right in front of them.
That is what the bush behind my wagon is for.
The one who introduced herself as Charlotte trails a sharp blue nail down the veins on the back of my hand. “You have large hands.”
“I bet everything about you is large, isn’t it?” There is hunger in Amber’s eyes when she says this, but I do not believe she is thinking of the grape she pops between her pink lips.
“I like to think so.” I might not be the tallest male in my clan, but I am also not the shortest.
This response earns me many giggles. Their laughter does not please me as much as another’s. Their smiles do not make me want to wear one of my own.
“Are you swimming today?” Bonnie asks as she shucks off her loose dress, revealing a swimming costume as blue as her eyes.
As if she heard their question, Nia abandons her Nolan and jogs back to the water alone. This is my chance.
“I think I will.”
Amber and Charlotte hop to their feet and take one of my hands each, pulling me to mine. The soft grass tickles my toes as we make our way between blankets and towels to the quarry’s edge.
All the sunlight makes the lake much warmer than the water on our side of the canyon. There are many squeals and playful splashes from the Seelie fae, but I do not join them. Instead, I swim out to where Nia floats on her back, her eyes closed as if lost to dreams.
The way the tips of her breasts peak against the peach fabric stirs my deepest, most secret desires. Thankfully, the effect she has on me is hidden beneath the water.
Our ripples kiss, then dance apart.
“I think I was born to be a mermaid.” Her eyes remain closed when she speaks, her voice whimsical and soft. A tender caress.
Does she realize I am the one who swims beside her, or does she think I am the Nolan?
“What is a mermaid?” This is a word I do not know.
Her lips curve higher, a smile for the sky above. At least she does not frown when she hears my voice. “A creature with a tail that lives in the sea.”
“Like a trout?”
She barks a laugh, a carefree sound that lifts on the breeze and straight into my heart. There is something wild and unrestrained about a laughing Nia that feeds the desire in my blood.
Her legs drop beneath the surface, and she pushes the water aside as she treads next to me, tiny droplets rolling down her cheeks. “Yes, Maddox. I wish to be a trout.”
If she were a trout, then I would drive my wagon to this quarry just to be close to her. If she were a trout, then—
Splashing at my back disturbs our moment of peace. I turn in time to see Amber kicking through the water. When she reaches me, she smacks my back with a rushed, “Tag. You’re it.”
This “tag” must be some sort of Seelie custom?
“It means she wants you to chase after her,” Nia says with a roll of her eyes. “It’s a game.”
I do not want to chase after that one. She is a slow swimmer. There will be no sport in that.
Instead, I tap Nia’s shoulder. “Tag. You are it.”
Her eyes narrow, and she shoots forward, propelled by long, beautiful legs.
I slip under the surface and swim as fast as I can toward deeper waters, away from red-haired fae and unwanted interruptions.
Who knows? Perhaps Nia will grow tired, and I will need to carry her to shore on my back, her legs wrapped around my torso, her chest pressed to my bare skin, only the tiny slip of fabric separating our bodies . . .
A glorious dream, indeed.
When my lungs start to burn, I kick toward the light, my head breaking through the surface only to find Nia waiting for me, a grin on her wet lips and victory in her eyes.
She swipes a hand through the water, catching my arm. “Got you!”
I cannot help but laugh. She is part trout after all.
Her gaze snaps to mine, the smile she wears melting into a frown before she whirls for shore, leaving white waves in her wake.
I suppose this means our game is over.