Fire and Bone by Rachel A. Marks

Author:Rachel A. Marks [Marks, Rachel A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781503946750
Publisher: Skyscape
Published: 2018-02-19T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-FOUR

FAELAN

After Sage left to get ready, I didn’t have the balls to call Marius and tell him what’s coming tonight when she’s asked who she chooses for her protector—how it’s probably not going to be me. How it might even be bloody Kieran at this point for all I know. Because I fucked it up.

Instead I went for a swim and showered, reciting Beowulf to quiet the commotion in my head. I’m in an extremely pissy mood by the time I’m ready. I can’t stop thinking about how I grabbed her—what the hell was that? And after what Kieran did to her . . . dick move. I know too little about practicing patience. I was never the right one for this task—I’m not sure what Marius was thinking.

I can hear Aelia’s coven out by the pool, and I don’t want to leave my cottage. So I sit in the greenhouse and wait for the sound of Sage’s door opening across the walkway.

Time passes slowly. As it becomes obvious we’re going to be late, I consider walking over and banging on Sage’s door. But the less time I spend with her right now, the better.

My head is too big of a mess.

But it’ll be over now, if she’s decided against me. And that should be a relief. I’ll just go into retirement like I planned—if Marius doesn’t have me sanctioned for my failure in handling this. Somehow, the rocky shores of Erin don’t sound as tempting as they did a few days ago, though. Not when I have this bloody compulsion to help her, to be there watching. I need to get my shit together.

I hear her door click open. When I step out on the front porch I spot them, Aelia and Sage, and—my thoughts go still, every part of me focusing on the redhead walking across the patio toward me. She’s stunning. Not beautiful in a typical sense: her edges are sharp and something about her clothes doesn’t quite match her personality. But she’s arresting. Everything in me wants to touch her.

I clench my hands into fists and step back.

“What’s wrong, Faelan?” Aelia asks with a smirk. “Don’t you think Sage looks nice?”

“Her dress is too short,” I say.

“Wow, that face,” Victoria says. “You look completely repulsed, hunter.” And she giggles, like she’s pleased with the idea. “You should’ve seen her an hour ago.”

I didn’t mean to feed the sharks. I glare at her before I turn to Sage, ready to apologize. But when I see Sage’s expression, my words evaporate. I swallow hard. She’s not looking at me, but there are threads of embarrassment and discomfort filtering from her shoulders. It makes me want to tear into the vapid Victoria, and tell her that her lipstick and caked-on eye makeup make her look like one of the trollops who used to stroll around outside the pub in my old village.

Instead I say, “You look nice, Sage.” When her eyes move to mine in surprise, I feel the need to add, “You’re very put together.

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