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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Borrowed time .

Jonathan and other humans used this phrase occasionally.

H?ra knew what it meant but hadn’t understood .

How could you borrow something insubstantial?

And from whom?

Now, two weeks after she and Madeleine had started having sex (H?ra wouldn’t call it sleeping together , since she hadn’t slept again), it made more sense.

Time felt like something she’d been granted temporarily when the witch had saved her life.

It couldn’t last forever, and now that she’d given up her mad fantasy of eating Madeleine and becoming a Stormhorse, H?ra had to face facts.

This couldn’t last forever.

It was so easy not to talk about it, though.

It always had been, although Jonathan had tried to press her on it.

Madeleine didn’t. After two weeks, she still wasn’t interested in discussing the future.

How odd. For once, H?ra was the one who looked ahead, and a human was the one who turned away.

Best not to push it.

These were happy days.

The happiest of H?ra’s life, in fact: the pleasures of a century squeezed into a summer.

She’d thought nothing could be more thrilling than a successful hunt, pursuing a great creature like an orca until her teeth tore into its flesh.

Someday, she’d believed, getting her wings would be even better.

Wrong. Nothing could be better than taking Madeleine into her arms for kisses, caresses, and more.

Here was the flesh she wanted most beneath her mouth, here were the dazzling heights she’d sought.

Madeleine seemed to feel the same.

She and H?ra walked about Jorsay less and worked on the farm more.

It was hard work—“Smelly, too,” she said—and she was exhausted at the end of each day.

Even so, she would reach for H?ra every night with eager hands.

H?ra had tried playing the whale mating songs to enhance the mood.

Madeleine didn’t find them alluring, but it turned out they didn’t need the extra help.

“You no longer care about your church,” H?ra had said exultantly on their third night together, for so it must be.

Madeleine, sated in H?ra’s embrace, frowned.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“But why else would you have sex with me? I thought that was why not.”

“It’s complicated.” Madeleine looked away.

“I’m trying to look at life in a different way. Like we talked about. But that doesn’t mean it’s simple. Let’s talk about it later?” She caressed H?ra’s bare shoulder.

“I’d rather focus on being here with you.”

That suited H?ra down to the ground, and she’d pressed her lips to Madeleine’s forehead, where the scar was.

She’d been content to put the matter off for another day.

Two weeks later, another day had yet to arrive.

Maybe it would have been all right if that were the only problem.

It wasn’t. Something felt wrong with the farm, and it was nothing she could put her finger on.

No more footprints appeared.

Nothing went missing or got damaged.

Nothing had happened .

And yet.

The humans didn’t seem to notice anything.

But the sheep were a little more nervous than usual, ewes likelier to bolt from their lambs.

The dogs raised their hackles more and wagged their tails less.

It was enough to disquiet H?ra too.

In Each-uisge form, her ears would have been folded constantly back.

And yet she couldn’t tell why.

The feeling crept in everywhere.

At night, Madeleine’s cottage seemed chillier than it had when H?ra and Jonathan had lived there.

H?ra didn’t mind the fireplace so much now, and holding Madeleine close always helped.

Madeleine herself didn’t seem to notice, which was strange, since she was more sensitive to cold.

On two occasions, outside the cottage while Madeleine slept, H?ra could have sworn she heard whistling.

The second time, she’d slipped out of bed, dressed, and gone to investigate.

By the time she’d made it outside, there was nothing.

No footprints either.

Then again, there was less mud around the cottage and more grass, where it was harder to see indentations.

Of course Madeleine, Jonathan, and the farmhands had all told H?ra it must have been the wind.

Nobody else seemed to think anything was wrong, although Jonathan had refused to look directly at her when he said the wind was responsible.

What else could it have been?

H?ra knew how unnerving the wind could be.

Until she’d started taking human lessons, spending more time on land, she’d never heard how it sounded away from the sea.

Now she knew it could moan and hum in the night.

And whistle too.

Maybe the trow was up to mischief.

Trows were known for that sort of thing: it was all fun and games until they crept into your house to steal a baby from its cradle, though ?tlaquoy didn’t have any babies.

Perhaps the trow was bored and had forgotten what H?ra could do to him?

Perhaps, when she’d told him she might be leaving soon, he’d decided she was no longer a threat.

He would learn otherwise, before this got out of hand.

She needed no shotgun to deal with him.

Or anything else. Her own teeth would suffice.

And so, early one morning, when H?ra brought his breakfast, she intended to give him a piece of her mind.

However, when she set the food and beer bottle on the ground near his door, he did not appear.

She waited. And waited.

She waited over ten minutes, until she was grinding her back teeth.

She eventually called out, “I want to speak to you!”

The trow did not emerge.

The pasty and beer stayed right where it was.

“Are you causing this mischief? Something’s wrong. I know it is.”

Silence.

“If it’s you, then leave off!” H?ra snapped.

Why was she shivering?

It was July, and she didn’t even feel the cold in January.

Nevertheless, she hugged herself against a chill.

“I’ve found a wee bit of joy, and you can leave me to it, can’t you? Just for a while!”

Silence.

“Do you even know what joy is? Have you never—” The wind cut into her, and she gasped.

“Never loved a thing and wanted to keep it close?”

No answer.

She could threaten the trow.

Maybe that’d keep him in line if pleading wouldn’t.

Why should an Each-uisge , great hunter of the North Sea, plead with an underground trickster?

She should show him his place.

“Just reconsider,” she snarled.

“It’s a fine arrangement, this. You eat well without having to hunt voles. Don’t ruin a good thing.”

It was as close to a threat as she could manage, which was pathetic.

She must be going soft.

It wasn’t as if she was fond of the creature.

When she said so to Madeleine that evening, Madeleine only smiled.

“Are you sure about that?”

H?ra tugged her in closer on the couch and began to play with her shirt collar.

“Of course. Why would I be fond of him? We’ve never had a proper conversation.”

“No, but he’s…like you.”

H?ra thought of the day she’d gone to the trow’s mound to ask him to protect the farm when she was gone.

He’d said nothing, just looked at her inscrutably.

Was that kinship? “I don’t think so.”

Madeleine studied the base of H?ra’s throat.

She began to trace the dip in H?ra’s clavicle with her fingertips.

“Isn’t he more like you than I am?”

H?ra frowned and caught Madeleine’s hand in her own.

“What do you mean? He’s a little thing who lives under the ground all alone and doesn’t want anything but food and beer. That’s not like us.” She squeezed Madeleine’s hand.

“Come with me sometime. If he comes out, I’ll introduce you. You’ll understand then.”

Madeleine looked at her, and H?ra held her breath.

Come and look, she pleaded silently, see the unseen.

Don’t turn your face from it.

After a pause, Madeleine said, “What about the day after tomorrow? I told Jim I’d help him tomorrow first thing, but the next day…” She took a deep breath.

“You’re right. I’ve been saying I want to learn new things, haven’t I?”

H?ra’s heart soared higher than if she had grown wings.

“Really?”

Madeleine gave her a tiny smile.

“Really.”

“And after that, perhaps you’ll be ready to watch me transform into my real shape?”

The tiny smile faded.

“Um…”

H?ra drooped.

“I will,” Madeleine said quickly.

“I’m working my way up to it. I do want to understand your world, I know it’s time, just…baby steps, okay?”

H?ra hadn’t spent much time around human babies—and wasn’t anxious to change that—but she understood the metaphor.

“Of course it’s okay.”

Maybe her disappointment was inappropriate.

Madeleine was slowly reordering her entire belief system, thanks in large part to their relationship.

It was more than H?ra had a right to expect after how they’d begun.

She tucked Madeleine’s hair behind her ear.

“Your willingness means a great deal to me. As do you.”

Madeleine blushed.

She drummed her fingertips against H?ra’s clavicle until H?ra released her hand, and then began stroking H?ra’s skin again.

“You mean a lot to me too.”

She didn’t make eye contact when she said it.

Did that mean she wasn’t sincere?

No, that wasn’t right.

H?ra “meant a lot” to Madeleine, that was obvious.

So why the furtive expression?

For the first time, H?ra felt reluctant to ask.

What if she upset the delicate balance they’d achieved and drove Madeleine away?

It was probably nothing.

When Madeleine leaned forward and nuzzled the side of H?ra’s neck, it was even easier to convince herself of this.

Madeleine had grown much bolder in the last couple of weeks.

No more pink cheeks and fluttering eyelashes, although H?ra had enjoyed that too.

Now she reached for H?ra when she wanted something, and she took it.

An urge H?ra fully understood.

She tilted her head to the side and sighed as the kisses wandered higher up her neck.

Could there be anything else like the stroke of Madeleine’s lips on her skin?

She’d spent so long wanting to devour Madeleine.

She hadn’t thought how pleasant it might be to get devoured in her turn.

Madeleine nipped her earlobe.

H?ra chuckled. “Trying to eat me alive?”

“I hear that’s your specialty,” Madeleine said lightly.

H?ra’s heart stopped.

Did Madeleine know somehow, had she guessed?—?

Surely that wasn’t possible.

The longer they were together, the less H?ra could imagine telling her the truth about her original plan, calling a look of anger and disgust into those beloved eyes.

Why ruin what brief time they had together?

But if Madeleine had somehow realized…

intuited, or…

“Sorry,” Madeleine said.

“What?” H?ra asked, startled.

“You got all stiff. I guess I shouldn’t joke about that.” Madeleine touched H?ra’s shoulder, and now she looked into H?ra’s eyes, her expression penitent.

“I just—sometimes I think, if I can joke about it, it’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not a big deal ,” H?ra said, relieved.

“We are who we are, and we’re obviously compatible. I just…want you to understand that I…”

Madeleine blinked at her.

“You what?”

“That I could never harm you,” H?ra said hoarsely, remembering the night on the shore when she’d taken horse form and tried to drive Madeleine into the sea.

Instead, she’d realized she could never hurt a hair on Madeleine’s head.

To her dismay, instead of saying, I know that , Madeleine shook her head.

“Of course you can. And you will.”

“What? No, I…”

“That’s what people do,” Madeleine said gently.

“If we’re close to someone, then we can hurt them, and sometimes we do. No matter how much we, um, care for them. That’s what it means to be human, and…” She trailed off as they looked at each other.

“Is it?” H?ra asked quietly.

“To hurt each other, to care, and to dream? I’ve experienced all three now.”

Madeleine swallowed.

“Yes.”

“But I’m not human.” At the words, Madeleine flinched, and H?ra sighed.

“I can’t change that, although…”

“Although what?”

Although I don’t know what I am instead .

A creature inhabiting one world after being driven from another, belonging to neither.

“Never mind. Right now, I’m more kin to you than to a trow. I think you were about to prove it?” Encouragingly, she rubbed her nose against Madeleine’s forehead and inhaled the scent of her hair.

“I think I was,” Madeleine agreed.

She kissed the side of H?ra’s mouth.

That was more like it.

H?ra had something to prove too, and she sent her hands and mouth wandering.

She discovered, again, the swell of Madeleine’s breasts.

Then the curve of her thighs, and—soon enough—the soaked secret that hid between them.

By then, as H?ra stroked deeply inside her, Madeleine was moaning and holding her close.

Her breasts were bare, the tips of her nipples salty with sweat as H?ra tasted them.

She rolled her hips desperately.

“Please,” Madeleine groaned.

“More. Oh God, more.”

“I told you, I’m not your God,” H?ra said hoarsely.

Madeleine’s eyes flew open.

She arched her hips and gasped.

H?ra bared her teeth and looked down into Madeleine’s flushed face.

Tunnel vision. She could only see forward, could only see those green eyes looking back at her.

“He’s got no business here.”

“Ah,” Madeleine whimpered, rocking her hips, “ah…ah…”

“It’s just me.” H?ra thrust faster.

“Oh, oh?—”

“Just me and you.” She watched Madeleine’s eyes close, watched her head tilt back.

“And I…”

“H?ra—H-H?ra?—”

“Am going to fuck you straight into heaven.” She curled her fingers.

Madeleine’s thighs went rigid.

She wailed. And around H?ra’s fingers, she clenched and throbbed, thrusting her hips until—a sudden, wet surge?—

H?ra looked down, astonished and delighted, as Madeleine squirted all over her hand while she came.

Her reading had mentioned that, and one of those dirty videos had shown it too.

It hadn’t sounded all that appealing until now, when it was happening right in front of her, the clearest possible sign of Madeleine’s ecstasy.

Slowly, Madeleine’s trembling subsided, and she sank back down into the couch with a moan.

“Oh, my G…gosh.” Then she grunted, propped herself up on her elbows, and looked down the length of her body with widening eyes.

“Oh my gosh . What…”

H?ra grinned and held up her wet fingers and hand.

“Nicely done.”

Madeleine put her hand over her mouth.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—what is that?”

“A compliment.” To prove it, H?ra licked her fingers.

Delicious. “It’s a sexual response that means you came extremely hard.”

“Oh. I, uh, I’ve never heard of…” Madeleine pushed her hair out of her face with a shaking hand.

“I made a mess.”

She had.

The wetness was on the couch cushions too.

But cushions could be cleaned, and H?ra had no interest in stopping now for a bit of housekeeping.

“Then let’s move to the bedroom.”

Madeleine looked dizzy.

“But I…”

H?ra rose to her feet and looked down upon Madeleine’s body, sprawled naked on the couch.

Her pale skin was flushed red, a sheen of sweat over her breasts and belly.

Beads of moisture gathered on the dark hair between her legs.

Her magnificent breasts rose and fell quickly, even as she got her breath back.

Then she looked into Madeleine’s eyes.

She couldn’t know what her own expression was, but whatever it was, it stopped Madeleine in her tracks and made her mouth softly open.

“My turn, now,” H?ra said softly, and bent down.

Madeleine slid her arms around H?ra’s neck and rested meekly in her arms as she was carried to bed.

That was the last of her meekness, though.

By the time H?ra was naked too, it was her turn to cry out as Madeleine licked between her legs, hungry and eager.

She’d been hesitant about this at first but had insisted on trying, and now she couldn’t seem to get enough of it, said she loved H?ra’s taste and texture, loved bringing her pleasure.

Yes, it was a pleasure indeed to be devoured.

Who could have known it?

Afterward, while H?ra’s thighs were still shaking, Madeleine surged over her like a wave.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Was that good?” she panted.

For answer, H?ra hauled Madeleine into her arms, rolled her on her back, and kissed her wet mouth.

“Better. I love when you taste me, my Madeleine.”

The possessive escaped her before she could stop it.

Beneath her, Madeleine’s breath hitched, which meant she’d noticed it too.

H?ra held her own breath.

After a second, Madeleine whispered, “Glad to hear it…my H?ra.”

H?ra gasped.

She propped herself up on her elbows so she could get a better look at Madeleine’s face.

“Yes. I am yours. Do you understand it?” Finally?

Madeleine bit her bottom lip.

When it slid back out from between her teeth, it shone.

After a seeming moment of deliberation, she touched H?ra’s face.

“Sometimes, God puts things…or people…into our keeping. We might not know what to do with them, but they’re ours anyway. I’m learning that.”

On the surface, it sounded like Madeleine spoke of a burdensome obligation.

The look in her eyes, thoughtful and sincere, made much more of it than that.

“I agree,” H?ra said.

What else had she known all along, but that the Great Mare had put Madeleine into her path?

“We belong to each other. It’s simple.”

“ Simple? ” Madeleine’s lips twitched.

“Never change, H?ra.”

Too late for that.

H?ra didn’t bother saying so as she bent down for another, sweeter kiss.