Home > A Lick of Frost (Merry Gentry #6)(32)

A Lick of Frost (Merry Gentry #6)(32)
Author: Laurell K. Hamilton

Rhys moved up beside me, beside us. He put his arm across my shoulders, not too tight. "Faint heart never won fair maiden," he said.

"What if I don't want to win the fair maiden?" Dr. Sang asked.

"Then you are a fool," Rhys said, with a smile to soften the words.

The two men stared at each other for a long moment. Some knowledge or understanding seemed to pass between them, because Dr. Sang nodded, almost as if Rhys had spoken again. He hadn't, I would have sworn to that, but sometimes silence speaks between one man and another much louder than any words. One of the greatest differences between men and women is that certain silence that women do not understand, and men cannot explain.

Dr. Sang went for the door. Before he and Rhys had had their moment of understanding, I would have bet even money on whether the good doctor would call the woman in the flower shop. But something about what Rhys had said had tipped the scales somehow. Now all I wondered was whether he call first or simply go to her.

Rhys hugged me and kissed the top of my head. I turned my face up so I could look at him. His smile was casual, almost teasing, but that one clear blue eye held something that was not casual in the least. I remembered a moment when the queen's ring had first come back to life on my hand. I had seen a ghostly baby before one of the female guards. Every man in the hallway had stared at her as if she were the most beautiful thing in the world. Every man except for four: Doyle, Frost, Mistral, and Rhys. Even Galen had stared at her. Later I'd had it explained that only true love would make you not gaze upon a woman that the ring had chosen. I had used the ring to see who among my guards would be the father of that almost-child, and given the female guard and the male guard to each other. It had worked. She had missed her period, and the tests were positive. It was the first pregnancy among the Unseelie since I was conceived.

I truly loved Doyle, and Frost to a lesser extent. I couldn't imagine being without either of them. Mistral had been my consort in the moment when the ring had come back to life, so the magic had not worked on him. Instead, he was part of the working of the magic. But Rhys, he should have looked at that guard. But he had only looked at me, which meant that he loved me, and he knew that I did not love him.

The people of faerie are not supposed to be jealous or possessive of their lovers, but to love truly and not have it returned is a pain that has no cure.

I raised my face to him, inviting a kiss. His face lost all trace of humor. He was as solemn as the look in his eye. He kissed me, and I kissed him back. I let my body grow soft and cling to him as our lips found each other. I wanted him to know that I valued him. That I saw him. That I wanted him. I felt his body respond even through our clothes.

He drew back first, a little breathless, a hint of laughter to his voice. "Let's get our wounded home, and we can finish this."

I nodded, because what else could I do? What can you say to a man when you know you are breaking his heart? You can promise to stop doing what is tearing him apart, but I knew that I couldn't, wouldn't stop loving Doyle and Frost.

I was breaking Frost's heart a little, too, because he knew that Doyle had a bigger piece of my affections. If we had not been so intimate together, I might have been able to hide from Frost, but he had taken to being with Doyle and me whenever we were intimate. There were too many men now to not share. But it was more than that. It was almost as if Frost feared what would happen if he left me alone with Doyle for even one more night.

What do you do when you know you are breaking someone's heart, but to do anything else would break your own? I promised Rhys sex with my kiss and my body. I meant it, but it wasn't lust that prompted the offer. I suppose in a way it was love, just not the kind of love a man wants from a woman.

Chapter 9

WE LEFT THE HOSPITAL TO FIND A BARRAGE OF REPORTERS. Someone had talked. We answered none of the yelled questions, although they got plenty of pictures of Doyle in a wheelchair. The fact that he'd accepted it at all proved how hurt he still was. Abe, on the other hand, had taken a wheelchair because he was lazy and liked attention, though he had to sit to one side to save his back. Halfwen had healed him, but again not completely. We weren't in faerie, and our powers weren't even close to their best.

The reporters knew what exit we were taking. Someone inside the hospital would take home money for either directing us to where the press waited or telling them where we were coming out. Either way, we were a moneymaking enterprise today.

Cameras blinded us. Hospital security had called the police before we even got outside, so there were other uniforms besides the two who still trailed us. Officers Kent and Brewer hadn't liked me as much since I had done magic on the doctor. They seemed afraid of me. But they did their duty. They walked in front and helped their fellow officers keep the crowd back.

There was a moment when the reporters pressed forward and the line collapsed toward us. Then my guards moved forward and the line steadied. Some of the men put their hand on the shoulder or back of the security guard or cop nearest them. I watched the humans stand a little straighter. It was as if by touch some of my guard could give courage and strength. I couldn't remember them ever being able to do that before, or was it just that the men who could do it had never been with me? What had I brought out of faerie with me into this modern world? Even I wasn't certain.

I watched them give courage with a touch, the way I could wake lust, and wondered if the touch would give them luck and courage for their day, or if it would fade like the lust I could inspire. When we had some privacy I'd ask.

There were too many of us for just one limo. There were two limos and two Hummers. One of each was black, the other white. I had time to wonder if someone had a sense of humor, or if it was an accident. I tried to help Doyle inside a limo, but Rhys moved me back so that Frost and Galen could help their captain inside. It seemed to take a long time. My vision was ruined with the flashing of cameras. Someone screamed over the mass of noise, "Darkness, why did King Taranis try to kill you?"

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