Chapter Seven Bargains #2
Paradise. My kind of paradise. The most beautiful world you could imagine, a world of rushing rivers and sunshine autumn skies over golden and orange trees, mountains towering in the background, and air that’s so sweet you could take a bite out of it.
“Humans can’t enter this realm unless invited, usually by giving them a gift.
” Dairmuid licks his lips and opens the partition wider so I can see a gray castle in the distance, a crumbling thing of towers and moss out of a fairytale, with green hills and curving paths to it.
Moonlight and thunderclouds play in the distance, even while there’s sun and white, streaky clouds to the west.
“Beautiful,” I whisper, and that's all I can say.
“Would you like to come with me?”
Instantly, I’m on my feet—and then just as fast I sit back down.
Fae trickery. A trap. “Time moves differently, you said. Who is to say I wouldn’t go over there for five minutes and over in this world, people would have filed a missing person’s report, and I’d lose my job? Who’s to say you’d come back—or you’d let me bring Rory back?”
Dairmuid’s silence is enough to let me know that those are all very good questions—and I probably wouldn’t like the answers. “I have to go,” I say suddenly.
“Wait!” Dairmuid drops the partition, and the living room is simply a living room again.
“I have never visited the human realm until my son was born, even though I interact with it. I know your world, and mine are very different, and I am sorry for all of my missteps, but this is my child. I have traveled through time and worlds for him—and I am not going to steal him back. I can see that you have already claimed him as his mother. That is something I cannot easily erase.”
“You’ve got that right! And yes, you’re his father, but you sure as heck have some questionable decision-making skills. Tell me the truth, did you try to get in my house and—”
“I have never set foot inside your house,” Dairmuid puts a hand on his heart. “Or wing. Or any other body part. I even tried to carry you into your own home today once you were sleeping, and I couldn’t. Saz has put up some sort of barrier.”
“So she clearly doesn’t think you should have access to this kid,” I challenge.
“That’s right, because I will protect him—and I can best her.
” Dairmuid’s tone changes to something dark and insistent, something that makes my heart speed up.
“She wants to kill him to take his soul, and uses him as a bargaining chip so she could consume mine!” Dairmuid challenges back, wind whipping his hair back, and storms crackling in his eyes.
Breathe, Deanna.
“He is in danger here. Saz said her power will come to a peak soon. It will either be during Samhain, when the veils thin and some celebrate death while others celebrate the fruits of harvest. Or, it will be sooner, during the autumnal equinox.” Dairmuid lets out a shaky breath, and I can see that his already pale, perfect skin is turning chalky with fear.
“If I didn’t think she would do greater harm with my soul, I would let her have it at this point to protect Rory. ”
Rory. He uses the name I gave him. He probably has something beautiful and hard to pronounce, something in that sing-song language that feels like spring and summer rolling off your tongue. “What’s his real name?”
“That will be his name. You have named him, and you have been chosen as his mother by the laws I do not write. All I can do is beg you to help me protect him. You would be a fierce ally, and a dangerous enemy. And... and I don’t know why Sazara chose you, but she is powerful, and she told me—” Dairmuid moves closer to me, and even though I was literally carried around in his arms, I wasn’t awake enough to enjoy it.
This person, being, whatever I should call him, radiates power. Exudes attraction. If I were braver and there weren’t bigger issues at hand, I’d ask him if that’s all fae, or just him. Or just me. Sex-starved, sleep-deprived, very overwhelmed me.
“In my bargain, I was foolish, too pleased that I had tricked her into accepting half of a biscuit, not half of a soul. I said she must never bother my son or me again. And she pointed out that killing is not bothering.”
“No,” I whisper, shocked, horrified, and backing up. I still only have Dairmuid’s word, but I believe him. I believe this. His voice throbs with too much worry, too much fear to be fake—at least, I think so.
“Yes. That’s the sort of fool I was. I’d like to blame it all on her powers, but...
No, they’re my powers, too. If you couldn’t tell by that little glimpse of my homeland, I’m a fae of what is known as the Autumn Court, and my job has always been to manage the storms and winds, the rituals of harvest. Harvest means ripe and fruitful, ready to pluck. ”
Honest to God, I thought he said another word. One that rhymed.
I swallow as he talks, leaning against the mantle now, one hip jutted out, letting me really see just how tall he is, how long those legs are, how wide those shoulders are... Damn it.
Down girl. Good libido.
“It seemed like such a good mix, with her insatiable longing and my ability to fulfill it. It’s probably why she chose me. Sex demon and fertility fae.” He gives a bitter laugh and shakes his head. “I’m stupid.”
“Sometimes people are lonely. And they want more out of life, and they just... They make mistakes.” Said Deanna, speaking for herself. I clear my throat. “Don’t beat yourself up. It’s not going to help anything. What do we do now?”
“Learn all we can about the laws of magic in this place. Mr. Silverman—”
“The guy at the bank? He sold me my house. He knows about this stuff?” I demand, waving my hand at Dairmuid and his glossy wings.
“I should think so. He’s a werewolf.”
I have to sit back down. “Oh.”
“Well, there is a high priority on keeping the creatures here peaceful and protecting the innocent. If that is the case, there may be some natural protections for Rory if he stays here for now—unless, of course, you want to go—”
“Nope. Not going to go spend a weekend in Fairyland and come back to discover I’ve missed a mortgage payment or ten.
It looks pretty and everything,” I add gently, “and it sounds great. But... I guess it wouldn’t make sense to you, but sometimes the crappy stuff about being human, like aging and bills, doing the work to make the life you want without any magic, is still the good stuff and is really awesome.
I know I just met Rory, but I want to see him grow. ”
“If Saz gets a hold of him, he will not grow up.”
“I won’t let that happen,” I say, my voice so low and so threatening that I barely recognize it.
“Good. Neither will I. Allies?”
“All right. Allies.” I manage a smile and hold out a hand. “Shake on it.”
“The bargain is struck, the truce is made,” Dairmuid says gravely, taking my outstretched hand and kissing the back of it.
Stupid butterflies in my stomach. I thought they all died out long ago. “I r-really should go practice.”
“I will escort you and my son. Consider me your protector, Lady Deanna. Your man-at-arms,” Dairmuid says with a sweeping bow.
I nod, tongue sticking to my lips, unable to speak. This man has every right to take Rory, if we’re going t by parentage alone. He has powers that I can’t even fathom.
He could turn me into a mouse or something, then take Rory back to Neverland if he wanted.
Laws or no laws, there are always loopholes, and if anyone knows how to find them, it’s demon or fae, at least according to all the stories my daddy read aloud to me when I was little, piles of folktales and legends, folklore from across the globe.
I don’t trust Dairmuid, not completely, but I like that he’s choosing higher roads when the lower ones are so much easier.
“Do you like organ music?” I ask, reaching for the diaper bag, figuring I’ll change Rory before I go.
“I like very nearly all music,” Dairmuid smiles. “I am told I play quite well.”
“Hmm. Same here.”
“Perhaps we can harmonize when Rory is fussing?” Dairmuid asks.
I smile in spite of myself. “I’d like that.”
“Oh, my goodness. I haven’t made your acquaintance, sir. You just fly in?”
Pastor Ignatius Fortnum tucks his Bible under his pudgy arm, closes his laptop, and hustles over to wring Dairmuid’s hand. “You must be the proud papa!”
Dairmuid looks as shocked as I am. “Indeed.”
“Well, welcome, welcome. Deanna, I sent you an email about ordering a more up-to-date copy of the organ accompaniment for the hymnal. That old one is all tattered to bits. And you brought Rory with you. Why, hi, sugarpie.” The pastor waggles his fingers at Rory, who is sitting in his carrier, staring blearily at him.
“Why, what pretty red eyes.” He looks between Dairmuid and me, face thoughtful.
“You know, with the two of you, I’d have pegged him with green or blue eyes for sure.
I haven’t seen a true fae in Pine Ridge in a dozen years.
Tell me, is it like human babies being born with blue eyes?
Are all the little ones born with red eyes? ”
“You can tell?” I croak.
“Oh, yes, honey, I can tell.” The pastor smiles.
“You don’t have to worry about Rory or his father fitting in around these parts, Deanna.
You just wait until choir practice. We’ve got all sorts—two ghosts, one Orc, a dragon, a minotaur, and a bat-man—not the superhero, plus plenty of humans.
Tell me—” He looks at Dairmuid, who bows low and replies.
“Dairmuid Danann.”
“Dairmuid. Do you sing?”
“I do. But I play this even better.” Dairmuid pulls out a long, ornately carved wooden whistle from inside the dark green cloak he’s now wearing. “I may challenge Lady Deanna to a battle of notes later on.”
“Ooh. Lady, is it?” Fortnum’s eyebrows arch higher, turning into bushy gray tufts above curious eyes. “Is it Lord Dairmuid, then?”
“You are correct.”
“But we’re not together.” I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.
Even if there is a teensey-beensy part of me that likes the wrong idea.