Jenna Black - Sirensong

“Do you think the prince’s people have managed to magic up a shower somewhere?” I asked. “I feel all gross and stinky.”

“That’s because you are,” Kimber said, jumping to her feet before I could whap her upside the head. “I believe I did spot an impromptu bathhouse on my way to the kitchen. Follow me.”

I wasn’t quite as steady on my feet as I would have liked, but I managed to get upright and totter off after Kimber.

I began day three of my trip through Faerie with a headache I suspected might be a hangover. Maybe I shouldn’t have drunk the second dose of hot posset Kimber had nagged me into downing before bed. Then again, I had actually slept, which after the day’s nightmarish events was a minor miracle. I would have loved a nice, strong cup of coffee for breakfast, but the Fae don’t do coffee, so I was stuck with strong, weird-tasting tea that probably didn’t have anything resembling caffeine in it.

I was not looking forward to a full day in the servants’ wagon. So when Ethan suggested I ride double with him on his horse, I jumped at the offer.

“It’s going to be pretty uncomfortable,” Ethan warned. “These saddles aren’t meant for two.”

I waved off his concern. “It won’t be much more uncomfortable than the stupid wagon.”

As soon as I climbed on behind Ethan, I realized I was dead wrong about the comfort level. The edge of the saddle dug into my butt so hard I would probably have bruises, and since there was only one set of stirrups, my legs were dangling. Still, I was with Ethan, my body pressed up against his back, my arms around his waist. I rested my cheek against his shoulder, closing my eyes and breathing in the scent of the minty Fae soap he favored even when we were in Avalon. I hadn’t realized how much I’d begun to associate that scent with Ethan until I’d used a bar of the same stuff to wash with last night.

“Are you miserably uncomfortable?” Ethan asked as we started forward. “I can take you to the wagon if it’s too—”

“I’m fine,” I told him, despite the way the saddle dug into me in unfortunate places. I was happy to put up with the discomfort, as long as I got to spend some time with Ethan, even surrounded by an audience as we were.

We passed a few minutes in companionable silence before Ethan said, “Seeing that horse run off with you yesterday was one of the worst moments in my life.”

I tightened my arms around him, hearing the genuine pain in his voice. “I didn’t enjoy it a whole lot myself,” I said. I remembered the sick feeling in my stomach as I’d watched Ethan and Keane fighting off Bogles as Phaedra carried me helplessly away. “I felt like I was abandoning you.”

He turned to look at me over his shoulder, his face a mask of amazement. “You’ve got to be kidding! It’s not like you chose to run off. And it’s not like you could have done anything to help the rest of us. Besides, we were more than a match for a bunch of Bogles.”

It was true that no one had died, and it was also true that I hadn’t left them behind voluntarily. That didn’t make the memory any easier to bear.

“Actually, I could have helped in the fight,” I said, then told Ethan about what I’d done to the Bogles that had attacked me.

“But you would never try to cast a spell in front of witnesses, right?” he asked, and I could feel the tension in his body and hear it in his voice. He was convinced that if anyone learned about my affinity with magic, I’d be viewed as even more of a threat than I already was.

I sighed, not sure what I would have done if I’d been in the middle of the battle and found myself or one of my friends in life-threatening danger. I had a sneaking suspicion I’d have cast the spell even with witnesses around, but Ethan didn’t need to hear that.

“Of course not,” I told him. “Besides, like you said, you didn’t need my help.”

I think Ethan heard the falseness of my tone, but he didn’t challenge me on it, which was a good thing. I didn’t want to waste this precious time we had together with arguing.

I shifted in the saddle, trying to find a more comfortable position. My arms were still locked around Ethan’s waist, and I could feel him holding his breath.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“Nope. Not a thing,” he replied, his voice a little breathy. “But if you don’t hold still, things could get a little embarrassing.”

I froze, thinking about how my fidgeting caused me to rub against him. The moment I thought of it, I forgot all about the discomfort of the saddle, my mind focusing on the fact that my breasts were smooshed up against his back and his butt was cradled between my legs. My cheeks heated with embarrassment, even as the tingle of awareness spread throughout my body and made me want to rub up against him harder. I wondered if he was even now thinking about our venture to second base the night I’d snuck out of my safe house to see him. I knew I was, my mind conveniently editing out the strain we’d both been under at the time and the anger and desperation that had tainted the encounter.

Maybe accepting Ethan’s offer to ride double with him had been a bad idea.

“Sorry,” I said, willing myself to be still.

“No worries,” he said, his voice still strained and breathy. “This is kind of fun.” He turned to wink at me, as if he were perfectly satisfied with a little playful flirtation. As if he weren’t used to getting girls into bed, and my enforced chastity were no big deal.

Not that any of that mattered right now. Even if I were a total slut, we wouldn’t be doing anything more than flirting, in full view of dozens of people. But the tingly feeling of excitement from being close to him never failed to rouse my worries and concerns. I was desperately addicted to Ethan, and the fear of losing him could be debilitating at times, no matter how logically my rational mind explained that we had no future together.

“Maybe I should ride in the wagon after all?” I suggested tentatively.

“No way,” Ethan said with gratifying speed. “I’m not missing out on my chance to have you so close to me.” He sighed, and some of the tension eased out of him. “Besides, we won’t be riding all that long today.”

“We won’t?” From what my dad had told me, the Sunne Palace was at least a couple hundred miles from the Avalon border. I didn’t know how much ground we were covering at our plodding speed, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t a couple hundred miles yet.

“No. Finn showed Keane and me a map of our route last night. We’re going to take a shortcut through some standing stones.”

“Huh?” I said intelligently.

“Standing stones. Like Stonehenge, only with real magic. There are tons of them in Faerie. They can be tricky to use, but if you’ve got the skill, you can travel from one set to another in the blink of an eye.”

“Tricky to use? What exactly does that mean?”

“Each set of standing stones is naturally connected to another, and they’re active in the moonlight. So if you don’t mind traveling at night, and if you want to go where the stones will naturally take you, using them is a piece of cake. But if you want to travel in the daytime, or if you want to control which set of stones you travel to, it takes some serious magic. And screwing up the spell could be the last mistake you ever make, if you know what I mean.”

I liked the idea of taking a shortcut—the sooner we got to the Sunne Palace, the sooner I’d be able to go home—but the way Ethan was describing it made it sound like a really bad idea to play with standing stones.

“Don’t worry,” he said, no doubt sensing my tension. “Prince Henry wouldn’t risk using standing stones if he thought there was any chance a hair on his head might be ruffled. And once we go through them, we’ll have only a few more hours to ride. We should be sleeping in luxury at the Sunne Palace tonight.”