Chapter 50 Carwynn #2
“Do you realize what you’ve just done?” I yelled, gesturing to the crime scene. “You’ve declared war on us! They’ll destroy our wards, our belongings, our house—”
I stopped, mid-scolding.
A slow buzzing sounded. Soft. Constant. But steadily, it got louder and louder, growing closer. The walls started to hum, becoming intense enough I thought they’d crumble down.
I bunched the silky gown and shot to my feet. Pudge was completely unbothered, splayed across the bed like a cat bathing in the sun.
The droning crescendoed until dozens of Brownies erupted from the hole in a frenzied cloud—irate wasps fighting fumigation. Furious wings flapped in rhythm.
Oh, they were livid. This was very, very bad.
My hair stood on end. The air felt like it was statically charging.
The Brownies grouped together in one massive, foreboding shadow. Flashes of electric energy surged around them, their sights honed on me.
Jesus Christ. I didn’t even know they could do that! Or that there were so many in our walls . . .
Slowly, I raised my hands up in surrender, backing away.
“Can we talk about this first?” I blathered with a cringe.
The little Brownie army spread out, readying to strike.
Pudge shot up like a bolt of lightning, wedging himself between me and the Brownie brigade.
The electrifying energy—their power—instantly snuffed out. A hundred tiny eyes transfixed on Pudge, mouths gaping. One by one, little wings and bodies bent over, bowing.
What the—? Had I missed something?
Pudge’s small blade was unsheathed, one I hadn’t even seen him hiding. His expression was unyielding, hard as rock as he stared them down. Dagger raised, he pointed to me, then swooped it around the room gesturing. An unspoken conversation passed between them.
One Brownie flew forward, abruptly nodding, then let out a high-pitch whistle. In an instant, they darted back to the hole, piling in as quickly as they’d come. When the last one vanished, a pair of gold earrings skittered across the floor.
I stilled. Brain stuttering. Not believing what had just happened.
Pudge lowered, hovering midair next to me.
“I—” My mouth couldn’t even form words. “What—” My hand motioned around the room, stupefied.
A huge smile stamped on his rosebud mouth. He shot me a cryptic wink.
I’d only ever known Pudge as the little, adorable troublemaker. I’ve never seen this side of him—commanding, fierce, almost regal. Like a little king protecting his realm.
Flash! The world burst white.
I thought he’d left, until—poof! He was back again, raising a clenched fist up to my face. Little chubby fingers unfurled, revealing a pink, powdery substance. The little cupid’s bow above his mouth puckered as he blew a cloud of dust over me. The glittery mess swallowed me whole.
I coughed, trying to expel whatever drug he cast over me.
“What the hell, Pudge!” I yelped, fanning the air.
A squeaky giggle echoed as he planted a kiss to my cheek. Another flash, and he was gone.
That little—
My heart stilled as I caught my reflection in the mirror.
Stubborn hair was now woven into a gorgeous updo.
The earrings dangled from my ears, and the dress looked exquisite.
No trace of wrinkles or powder. The deep-red silk shimmered even more in the light.
Gold ruffles beneath the leg slit glistened like petals uncurling with each step.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The knocking turned urgent, violent even.
Damn it. I’d almost forgotten Finley.
I rushed to the front door, ripping it open.
“I am so, so sorry, Fin. I—” The words shriveled up in my mouth.
No, not Finley.
Pogue.
He looked like he’d ran here in a fury, chest heaving, knuckles red.
A rush of warmth brushed my cheeks. Stop it.
Although disheveled, he still looked ridiculously good. Unfairly good.
A black fitted suit hugged his shoulders, caressing his biceps as a dark vest peeked out, gold markings gleaming in the sunset light.
His dark hair was freshly shaved on the sides and neatly slicked back on the top.
Devastating in all the right ways. Some pathetic, internal part of me thanked him for rewarding me with this view.
My heart palpitated. Mind sputtered.
He shouldn’t be here.
“I knocked over thirty times,” Pogue growled, grilling the doorframe as if it were a bouncer who’d personally offended him. “Who warded this?” he demanded. “Nearly shattered my wrist trying to break the damn door down. Not even the shadows could penetrate it.”
The moment I last saw him flashed to the forefront of my mind—that cruel kiss, his cruel words.
“Aine did,” I said sharply. “Extra precautions for any uninvited guests.”
In truth, Aine freaked when she found out Pogue’s shadows were able to sneak in to deliver me that note.
My eyes angrily locked on his. “What are you doing here, Pogue?”
I stepped through the doorway, purposely forcing him back.
His breath hitched, a small motion that would’ve easily been missed had I not been staring. Serrated eyes slid over my face, my neck, my chest, down to the small bit of flesh peeking out from the opening in my dress.
Heat crept into my core at the weight of his gaze.
Pull yourself together, Carwynn . . .
Pogue stiffened. Slowly, his hands drifted up to grip the lapels of his suit as he straightened.
“You look—” He cleared his throat, then sucked in a deep breath. “I’m escorting you to the Ball. I heard about the Onchu Ancient. You should be accompanied—it’s not safe.”
My brows shot sky-high. I could feel my lips starting to twitch, unsure if they wanted to curse him or kiss him. Too dangerous, either way.
What a cocky, conceited, asshole! Who the hell did he think he was showing up unannounced? Then not asking but telling me we were going together.
No smile. No amusement. Just a solemn expression.
I blinked.
Was I missing something? I mean, sure I was raised among humans, but the social differences weren’t so big that I’d be completely and jarringly falling short to some crucial part of this miscommunication. No this, one hundred percent had to be a Pogue thing, not a cultural mishap.
“Hey, Carwynn!” I lowered my voice, mocking his own. “Would you like to be my date to the Fortuna Ball?” I spun to the other side of the walkway, voice going higher. “Gee, what a gentleman! How charitable of you, Pogue. Truly, I’m swooning . . .”
Silence.
The stale look on his face forced me to choke down a laugh. With immense strength—and struggle—I held it together. “You can’t just show up on people’s doorsteps telling them what to do.”
He blinked, looking like a machine that’d broken down, glitching. Then, ever so slowly, he rolled his neck, exhaling.
Was he . . . nervous?
Something unfamiliar flashed across his face. Not anger, not arrogance. No, this was softer. Which was far more terrifying.
“I—” Pogue began, muscles tensing as if a moment of unsureness had taken hold. “I was going to—”
“Umm,” A soothing, melodic voice cut the air. “What’s going on here?”
Finley’s brown leather shoes clicked on the stone. In the distance, an Enbarr and carriage had freshly appeared.
Someone should’ve just smacked me clean across the face by this point. Where was Lights-Out Louisa when I needed her . . .
My cheeks pulled into a beaming smile before I could help it. Finley was a handsome devil, clad in a forest-green suit. Golden hair was swept to the side. I had to recoil my fingers, urging them not to reach up and ruffle his hair.
“Oh good,” Pogue’s voice dripped with irritation. “Here I was afraid I’d have to take her all by myself.”
I suddenly wanted to bury myself in the garden or maybe cram into the Brownie’s hidey-hole.
Finley strode calmly to my side. In one swift movement, a hand cozily found its way under my chin, and tilted it up. His lips found home on mine, inhaling, stealing my breath. My heart, along with the very moment around us, stilled.
All the emotions from our night together instantly resurfaced, possessing my every thought.
He released me, but his eyes still clung to mine. Unspoken images of us at the ruins flashed between us, a reminder of what we’d shared—physically, spiritually.
Those eyes then slid to my pink-tinged cheeks and creased with a smirk of satisfaction.
A cinderblock plunked down in my stomach as I reeled back to reality, to the company standing in front of us.
Finley turned to Pogue. “Excuse me?” he said, politely. Though his eyes were anything but as they staked him. “Did you say something?”
Door-battered knuckles were now white as death as Pogue’s fists clenched at his side. Those too-seeing eyes darted back and forth between Finley and me. Once, then twice. His expression distorted to fury. Sharp and punishing. As if he saw beyond the kiss, to something more condemning.
The air started to thicken, heavy like gravy. It churned in my stomach like a meal gone sour.
I shouldn’t have fought David on picking me up himself . . .
“She needs an escort, not a babysitter,” Pogue snapped, voice low and grating. For a fraction of a second, the space around us darkened, shadows stirring with rage. A hand outstretched to me. “Ready, Carwynn?” Those icy eyes blazed like an inferno ready to unleash.
My breath caught, lips parting for words of rejection, but they’d suddenly run away.
Finley knocked Pogue’s hand away with force, rushing forward to invade his space.
“I don’t know what game you’re playing, but it’s time ya leave.” Finley may have had a few inches on Pogue, but something inside made me nervous for his safety.
“Funny.” Pogue’s laugh was brutal. Smoky tendrils curled off his body. My nerves knotted. “Thought playing games was yours and Lochlainn’s specialty?” His voice dropped even lower, face horrifyingly lethal. “Tell us, Finley—how are all your business classes going?”
His stare was a loaded message I couldn’t decipher. What the hell was he talking about? Had he lost his mind?
A guttural snarl rumbled through Finley’s chest in challenge.
“Back off.” Finley threatened, inches from Pogue’s face.
The two men were one pissing contest away from shadows meeting claws. I couldn’t take any more.
“Okay! All right!” I wedged between them. My palms met hard chests, and pressed back, creating distance. “We’re not doing this!” My eyes volleyed between them. “Both of you, in the carriage. We don’t have time to compare dick sizes, and I’m all out of measuring tape . . .”
Dead. Silence.
Finley blinked, as if irritated I’d even mention Pogue had a dick.
Pogue in turn arched a brow, but the look he gave me only intensified.
Well, at least it got them to pause. So I’d say that was a win. Toddlers redirected. Momentarily.