Page 10 of Through the Veil (Endangered Fae #2)
Diego snatched his hand away. “Yes. I see what you meant. Goddamn it, leave off! Just let me alone awhile!”
He stalked off into the trees with no idea where he was headed. After stomping about in the woods for half a mile or so, he found himself back at the little lily pond. Scath and Croi skimmed the surface like enormous dragonflies, chasing each other’s wakes.
Why am I so angry? There had been persistent would-be lovers over the years.
He’d always been patient with them, firm but patient.
In the face of an unfamiliar problem, Lugh was trying to do the best he could without even a hint of irritation.
Frustration fueled the largest part of his fury, Diego suspected.
He was supposed to face someone skilled in handling the currents of magic in a few days, and he had no inkling of how he would do anything but curl into a frightened, whimpering ball.
It didn’t help, of course, that Lugh was gorgeous and Diego was anguished over what had happened with Finn and where he might be.
He sighed and sank down on one of the flat rocks by the pond. Anger at himself, sexual frustration and the absence of Finn had all simmered and stewed together to erupt in a tantrum. He tried to reach out once more, as he had several times that day. “Finn? Mi amor, are you out there?”
No answer came, again, no touch from that beloved mind to his.
Lugh had suggested that Finn was hiding.
Apparently, he often hid for a time when hurt or upset, but his Finn had never done so.
When Diego needed him, he had always come.
Even critically injured, Finn had always come.
Either he couldn’t hear the call, or he was in such bad shape somewhere he couldn’t answer. Not a happy thought.
Scath held his hand over the water, and a shape formed, a little horse, which galloped to Croi and splashed against her shoulder. She laughed, clapping, and sent a water butterfly to him. Back and forth their play went, both pixies giggling and splashing. Magic came to them so effortlessly.
“Diego, make the car fly again!” his little sister crowed. At four and five, they had been very close, always together.
He laughed and thought at the toy Camaro again, his eyes narrowed in concentration as it rose from the sand and flew to Carlita, who shrieked in delight.
“No, Diego!” His mother had come and snatched him from the sandbox. “You mustn’t do things like that! The fairies will see and come and take you away!” Mama had held him tight, her fear transmitting to him, until he grew fearful, too, and wept and promised never to do such things again…
“ Dios …” Diego whispered. The ability had manifested when he was small, but he had suppressed both the memory and the magic. He stared at his hands. It wasn’t because of the seizures—it had always been with him.
“Diego!”
He glanced up and a water rose smacked him in the face. Sputtering, he wiped the water from his eyes in time to duck the water swan that followed. Scath and Croi had fallen into each other’s arms, laughing so hard they could no longer fly.
“Very funny. Hilarious,” he muttered.
“Come play with us!”
“I’m probably not very good company right now, I’m sorry.”
They flew to him, and he found himself embraced from either side.
“You are so unhappy today,” Scath murmured against his shoulder.
“What hurts you so?” Croi nuzzled at his arm.
No difference between a friendly touch and a sensual one for them, he had been told, but there was something so open and innocent about them, he couldn’t push them away. “I don’t even know if Finn’s still alive. It’s… I hate this. Being apart.”
Croi blinked at him, green on green eyes puzzled. “But you have been apart from him many times. Years. Centuries.”
“Maybe. But how would you feel if you were separated from Scath? If you didn’t even know whether he was alive or dead?”
Her emerald hue drained to an unhealthy chartreuse. She backed away from Diego, her breaths coming short. “I would know,” she whispered. “I would know.”
“Croi!” Scath cried out and opened his arms, pulling her close when she flew to him. She clung to him, sobbing, both their coloring faded to near gray.
“I’m sorry.” Diego wrapped his arms around both trembling bodies and their shaking lessened.
Scath drew a whole breath first. “We are never apart. When we hatch, we must find our leath , our second half, within moments, or die.”
“If one dies”—Croi sniffed—“the other follows.”
“Oh, God, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I would never have said something so cruel.”
“We know, Tali— Diego.” Scath fluttered his wings, his color ratcheting up to a cadet blue. “You have never been cruel. Come. Make water- bréagán with us.”
The return to play was more serious and subdued, but Diego understood it was to cheer Croi up, so he went with them to the water’s edge.
Scath made her a flock of birds that swooped and collided until she began to glow green again.
She joined in with a little smile and sent Diego a palm-sized water bear.
It trundled about on his hand, snuffling, and he thought, perhaps, he felt something through it.
He extended his other hand over the water and reached out for the magic he knew flowed so freely there, Finn’s magic. A sphere rose from the pond at his urging, and Croi laughed as he shaped it into a rough cube, then a cylinder before he let it fall with a soft splash against Scath’s leg.
They continued with simple shapes, coaxing Diego into more and more successful imitations. When they were both laughing again, he hugged them and felt he was ready to return to Lugh.
Unfortunately, he had picked the worst possible time for storming off. When he returned to the field, he found Lugh curled in a tight ball on the ground, teeth gritted against the pain.
“Lugh, hey…” Diego knelt beside him, one hand on his shoulder. What a shitty thing to do, leaving someone when he’s sick. “How long have you been down here?”
“Not long,” Lugh forced out through his teeth.
“Okay, it’ll be okay. I’m so sorry.” Diego took Lugh’s head in his lap and let him bury his face against his stomach, knowing by now it was his touch the big guy needed to ease the pain.
“You are calmer,” Lugh whispered as his shaking subsided.
“I guess I am.” Diego stroked the gleaming black hair, still feeling like a heel.
“Someone reminded me about how important play is in learning.” He sat quiet for a moment, concentrating on helping Lugh slow his breathing.
“Maybe when you feel a little better, you can show me how you make those lightning spears.”