Jenna Black - Sirensong

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll be lucky if he works hard enough for a hair on his head to move. Like I said, not that entertaining.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she replied as she led the way out of our room.

As reluctant as I was to have Kimber watch me make a fool of myself, it was probably a good thing she came along, or I’d have made at least three wrong turns before I found my way out of the massive house. My sense of direction sucks, and I’d been so tired the night before I’d barely paid attention to where I was going.

It seemed the people of this house were not exactly early risers. The halls were deserted and silent as Kimber and I made our way toward the front door. Which made it even more shocking when we turned one corner and came upon a brown-skinned creature about three feet in height. Its back was to us, but when I made a little squeak of surprise, it whirled around, displaying a mouth full of teeth that would have looked at home in a shark.

The creature was naked except for a loin cloth, its skin a wrinkled, leathery brown like it had spent a lifetime baking in the sun. Saggy boobs that hung to its waist like partially deflated balloons declared the creature was female.

Sure it was going to pounce on me and sink those wicked-sharp teeth into my throat, I let out a choked cry of alarm and leapt backward, practically knocking Kimber down. The creature made a very similar sound, leapt backward … and disappeared.

Hyperventilating, I grabbed hold of Kimber’s arm as I looked wildly around.

“Where is it? Where’d it go?” I was still waiting for the attack, adrenaline pumping through my system. In fact, I was so primed for attack that it took me a moment to realize Kimber was laughing. Laughing so hard tears were leaking out of the corners of her eyes.

Her laughter calmed my panic, and I let go of her arm. The heat in my cheeks told me I was blushing, though I wasn’t yet sure exactly what I was supposed to be embarrassed about. I was sure she’d enlighten me as soon as she stopped laughing uncontrollably.

I glared at Kimber. “What the hell was that? And where did it go?”

Kimber cleared her throat, and I could see she was still struggling against laughter. “That was a Brownie. I’m sure there are at least a dozen of them on staff here, but they don’t like to be seen.”

If the one I’d just laid eyes on was typical, I could see why. “ That’s a Brownie? As in the helpful little fairies who clean house and cook?” I’d never put much thought into what a Brownie might look like, but it sure as hell wasn’t like that . I was going to have freaking nightmares.

“Brownies as in the lowest ranking of all the sentient Seelie Fae, who are employed for menial labor by the Sidhe. Not only do they not like to be seen, but the Sidhe don’t like to see them. Don’t tell anyone you caught sight of one, or they might track her down and dismiss her.”

Geez, it sounded like being treated like a second-class citizen would be an upgrade for the poor creatures. The Fae and their stupid class system! “I’m surprised Henry doesn’t have an army of them traveling with us to take care of his every need,” I grumbled as I started forward again. The adrenaline rush had been as effective as any cup of coffee, and I was finally feeling awake and alert.

“I’m sure he does,” Kimber said as she fell into step beside me. “They’re just better at their jobs than this one.”

I came to a stop. “Wait. You mean there are a whole bunch of those creatures traveling with us? And we’ve never caught sight of them?”

She nodded. “Yes, of course. Now hurry up or we’re going to be late.”

We hurried up, but we were still late. Keane had his arms crossed over his chest and was tapping his foot impatiently when we arrived. He frowned when he caught sight of Kimber, though that didn’t stop him from giving her a quick, head-to-toe examination. She looked fabulous as always, with her stylish khaki pants and her blue silk tank top. Not exactly rugged, horseback-riding wear, but Kimber was a big believer in form over function. I felt like an ugly stepsister standing beside her in my loose, faded T-shirt and my black yoga pants. (Pants I had to carry in my backpack, because they were made with Lycra and would disintegrate if they got outside my Faeriewalker aura.)

“Dana would probably be in Outer Mongolia right now if she didn’t have someone to guide her here,” Kimber said to explain her presence, and she and Keane shared a good laugh at my expense. I decided to take a page out of Keane’s book and go on the offensive before our lesson had officially started.

While he and Kimber were yucking it up, I aimed a sweeping kick at his calves. If he’d have been as unprepared as he looked, I might have had the satisfaction of seeing him land on his butt in a patch of what I suspected was horse poop. But, of course, I never get that lucky.

Keane jumped nimbly over my kick and was on me almost before he came down. His fist connected with my right shoulder, and my entire arm went temporarily numb. I tried to backpedal to avoid the next blow, but he was too fast for me. I partially blocked his next punch with my left arm, but it’s my weak side, and I found myself sprawled on the ground anyway. I hoped I hadn’t landed in the patch of manure, but I didn’t have time to worry about it as I rolled to avoid Keane’s pounce. He kindly allowed me to get to my feet before launching himself at me again. He locked his arms around me, pinning my own arms against my sides. I head-butted his chin—I’d have liked to aim for his nose, but I was too short to reach from this position. My forehead slammed into his shield spell, and I know for a fact it hurt me more than it hurt him.

“Good,” he said, still holding me there, arms pinned, “but you need to follow up in case the first blow wasn’t enough.”

No matter how much training Keane had given me, I was still squeamish about going for his groin. I knew I wouldn’t hit anything except his shield spell, but still, aiming a kick or a knee there just felt wrong.

“Let’s just pretend I followed up with a knee and leave it at that,” I panted.

“Sure,” Keane agreed, too easily. “Then we’ll also just pretend I let go.”

He dropped to the ground, and with my arms pinned, there was nothing I could do to soften the fall. My breath whooshed out of me, and then Keane’s weight came crashing down on top of me, and I thought I was about to die as my lungs fought for oxygen.

Dammit, would I never learn?

Keane lay still on top of me as I struggled to get air into my lungs. His eyes widened as they locked on something behind me I couldn’t see, and then his lips split into a grin. I figured Kimber was probably giving him an adoring “oh, my hero” look, appreciating his manly prowess. I tried to lurch into action before I was truly ready, which was never smart. I tried a sharp roll to my right, but it was hard to put much oomph in it while I was still struggling for breath, and we moved all of about two centimeters. Keane punished me for it with a tap on the chin—not a real punch, just a reminder that I hadn’t improved my situation by being impatient.

I sucked in a couple more breaths, regaining my strength as Keane continued to grin down at me. We were on the ground now instead of standing up, but we were essentially in the same position as we’d been before: my best shot at escape was brisk head butt, followed by a well-placed knee. I got Keane’s message loud and clear: he was not letting me go until I did what he wanted.

“Fine,” I gritted out from between clenched teeth, then jerked my head upward until I slammed into his shield again. He pretended to be in horrible pain, dropping his guard so he wasn’t primed to protect himself. I jerked my knee up between his legs, wincing in anticipation despite knowing I wouldn’t hurt him.