Page 15 of Outside the Veil (Endangered Fae #1)

Chapter eight

Taking the City Out of the Boy

F inn shifted back to his own form, a painful, tedious process after his daylong confinement, but a relief all the same.

He rolled spreadeagle onto his back to get as much of his skin in contact with the earth as possible, opening himself to the flows of magic.

Fingers digging into the dirt, he reached into the depths for the strongest veins of magic.

Relief flooded through every scrap of him.

The cacophony of scents brought tears to his eyes—damp grass, new leaves, wildflowers sweet and woody, the sharp tang of insects, hints of territorial musk, humus and loam. He turned his gaze upward and nearly sobbed aloud.

Great Dagda. Stars.

He hadn’t seen stars since he’d woken. With all the horrors confronting him, he’d been afraid to ask Diego if the stars still shone. As if an evil fog dissipated, his senses sprang back to heart-pounding clarity.

A bat fluttered against the house in her hunt for mosquitoes. Three deer picked their way cautiously through a nearby clearing. Hundreds of crickets sang. An owl called across the treetops—

“Finn!”

The houselights flared, blocking out the stars. Diego barreled down the front steps in nothing but the delightfully short pants he wore to bed. Lovely sight if Diego hadn’t been white with shock.

“I’m here, my hero,” Finn called. “What’s amiss?”

“I… There was…” Diego shook his head as he did when he became flustered. “I heard a scream. I thought it was you.”

“A scream?”

The owl called again and Diego stabbed a finger toward the woods. “There!”

“Ah, that would be the bane sidhe come to rip your soul away.”

“Banshees are real, too?”

Diego’s expression held such a mix of horror and disbelief Finn found himself unable to continue his small mischief. “They are, but there are none here. That is merely an owl calling for her mate.”

“That horrible shriek is an owl? I thought they just hooted.”

Finn reached over to pat his foot. “Listen a moment.” A mile distant, another owl called in answer. “That’s her male answering.”

“ Dios .” Diego plunked down on the grass, shivering. “I never realized the woods would be so loud.”

“The man sleeps like the dead through machines thundering past his window all night and thinks a few crickets too loud?” Finn muttered.

A rabbit rustled in the leaves and Diego startled, edging closer .

Take good care of him, the wise woman had said.

He needs a friend so badly now. He watched the lean muscles in Diego’s arms stand out in hard relief as he shuddered.

Such an endearing contradiction of vulnerability and strength, but it was the white-hot spark of Diego, such a brief flame but oh so bright, that drew Finn like a hapless moth to the bonfire.

“You should go back in. You’ll catch your death out here.”

“Just for a bit. Maybe I’ll get a blanket and sit out here with you awhile. Keep you company.”

I’m not the one needing company, m’boy. Finn rose onto his elbows. “Help me up, then. I’ll come in with you. Perhaps it is a mite chilly out here tonight.”

“No, no, you need to stay outside, don’t you? To get better?”

“It is enough to be out of that blasted city.” He stretched the truth, but not too much. “Come. You’re turning blue.”

Inside, Finn found he approved of the open main room. Almost like being outside, windows comprised one wall and much of the high ceiling. An ottoman large enough for four men to curl up together stood in front of the fireplace and Finn indicated he would sleep there.

“Bring your blankets. Sleep with me.”

Diego frowned, hesitating. “Finn, I don’t think…”

“Just sleep. I give you my solemn promise. You are distressed and will rest better with someone by your side, I think.”

“I don’t suppose you’d consider putting on some clothes?”

“More than willing if it puts you at ease.”

After some thuds and rustlings upstairs, Diego returned with a pile of blankets and the soft, black pants he had given Finn to sleep in that first night. Small victories. Take what you can get.

“How did you know the owl was a she? And who she was calling to?” Diego asked, as he slid under the blankets beside him.

“I speak owl quite fluently. And deer and boar and duck and mosquito, to name a few.”

“Wait. How could anyone learn to speak mosquito?”

“Easy enough when you’ve been one. Though I don’t recommend it.” He wanted so badly to pull Diego close and hold him chest to chest, but he had given his word. Most promises he wouldn’t care whether he kept them or not, but a promise to Diego was somehow different.

“I thought it was too difficult to become something that small.”

“When I’m ill, yes. When I’m whole and sound, it’s possible. I tried mosquito form one summer simply to see what it would be like. The end result was rather messy and nasty.”

“What happened?”

“A thrush ate me. I had to choose between escape and being digested, which leaves no guarantees of being able to piece one’s self back together afterward. So I escaped.”

Diego gazed at him with rapt attention. “How?”

Gods, it’s hard not to kiss him. “I became a crow. Bit too large for the thrush to hold in his stomach. As I said, the results were messy. Lost my taste for bird for quite some time after that.”

Diego’s nose wrinkled and then he laughed. “No, really. You’re making that up.”

“Would that I were, boyo. But it’s a good story either way.”

“It is.” A smile appeared, though Diego’s gaze had gone far into the distance.

“You’ve had a thought.”

“I’ve had the start of an idea. Let me keep it for a little.”

Moonlight slid along the floor as Finn identified one night noise after another for his city-dwelling friend and soon Diego fell asleep. Finn rested beside him, almost content, and took his hand in a gentle grip. He didn’t think Diego would consider that breaking his promise.

Diego woke to the sun bathing his face and the vague recollection that someone should have been with him.

“Mitch?”

After the inevitable disorientation of waking on an ottoman subsided, he wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and got up to look for Finn.

The pooka sprawled on a chair on the veranda, feet propped up on the railing, lazing in the sunlight like a contented cat, thick fall of blue-black hair cascading over the chair back to the wood planks.

He opened one eye when Diego sat beside him. “I sleep beside you all night, and still you call for him when you wake?”

Diego felt the flush in his cheeks. “Sorry. You heard me all the way out here?”

“My hearing has returned to its proper state now. Yes, I heard. I can hear a fly walking on the roof at the back of the house.” Finn sat up and turned to him. “I wanted to brew you a pot of that vile stuff you drink in the morning but I couldn’t identify which machine to use.”

“Thank you for the thought, but maybe you better leave the new machines to me. What would you like for breakfast?”

“I’ve, ah, already eaten.” Finn avoided his eyes.

“Oh. Should I ask?”

“I truly don’t think you want the details. But perhaps it will be a few chirps quieter this evening for you.”

“You’re right. I don’t want to hear any more. You couldn’t wait for me to make you pancakes or something?”

“I was famished. And you slept so peacefully. Besides which, crickets are quite nourishing. A bit larger than I’m used to. Somewhat nuttier…”

“Stop right there. Please.”

Finn followed him into the kitchen. “Would do you some good, too. All those city poisons have smothered you.”

“Um, maybe so, but I’d never keep them down.” Diego puzzled over the coffeemaker’s array of mysterious buttons.

“This is a much larger eating room than yours. Is it meant for a large family? Do they have feasts in here? What’s that odd thing with its feet in the bowl?”

“You’re chatty this morning,” Diego said as he located the cabinet with coffee and filters. “Something on your mind?”

Finn pulled a chair out from the table and flung himself into it. “Are you or are you not going to tell me what you thought of last night?”

“That’s been itching at you all this time?”

“Yes.” Finn drummed his fingers on the table, a red tinge in his eyes. “So will you tell me or do I resort to extreme measures?”

“I’m not fond of being threatened…”

“Please tell me!” Finn dropped to his knees, arms spread in supplication. “The look in your eyes intrigued me so. Please, before my head bursts from wondering.”

Diego let out a laugh, startled by the degree of Finn’s desperation. Hard to resist a handsome man on his knees. He had to turn away to hide his growing erection against the counter.

“Hold out for me a couple minutes. Wait right there.” He went upstairs, threw on some clothes and returned with his digital camera and his palm-sized tape recorder.

Finn sighed. “More machines. What do these do?”

“This one takes pictures.”

“Where does it take them?”

“No, I mean it creates pictures.”

“That little thing? Does it have tiny hands to draw?”

“Stand still and I’ll show you.”

Finn stopped his agitated pacing and stood with his feet planted, arms crossed over his chest.

He already looks better. I swear he’s filled out some…

Diego took the shot and then turned the screen to Finn. “You see? Like in the magazines you like so much. I don’t know exactly how it works but it’s like taking an impression of a moment in time.”

“A footprint of light,” Finn concluded, tilting his head this way and that to see the picture. “Was I truly scowling so?”

“I’m afraid you were.”

“This is all quite fascinating, but there’s more to it, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Yes. I love hearing your stories. I’d like to compile some. Put a book together of your life for everyone to read, illustrated with your likeness. Probably not with actual photos. They’d want an illustrator, I’d think, but with you as the model.”

Finn’s forehead wrinkled. “You think that’s wise?”