Read Broken Online

Authors: David H. Burton

Tags: #england, #paranormal romance, #fantasy, #britain, #nookbook, #fiction, #romance, #Broken, #fey, #myth, #ebook, #fairies, #faery, #trolls, #epub, #celtic, #mobi, #magic, #faeries, #David H. Burton, #nymphs, #kindle, #fairy

Broken (16 page)

BOOK: Broken
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I plodded towards the waterfall. Once again, the ground was soft
beneath my feet, the tree bark covered in green velvet.

I paused at the spot I’d seen Brokk before. He was
nowhere to be found. That saddened me a little. I could’ve used
with the company. I wasn’t sure he could do much to help me, but
his presence would’ve been comforting.

Time to put on my big girl pants.

I inched up the rocky wall, pausing after each move to listen.
My insides were like jelly. I didn’t want to get caught by
this woman alone. Who knew what she would do to me.

I clambered over the top with as much stealth as the dress would
allow. If I was in more control of this dream, I’d be wearing
something a whole lot more sensible.

I tiptoed over to where I’d last seen the golden-haired
woman and sure enough she was there in the clearing once more. She
was with the man from the last time.

I paused as I approached, feeling a gob of spit stuck in my
throat. Her dress was pulled down, her breasts bared. She was
straddling the man and moving with a slow, rhythmic movement. He
was cupping her breasts in his hands. It was obvious what was
happening.

I wasn’t sure what to do. I felt awful just hiding there
and peeping at the two of them. I decided to circle about and see
what I could find. Any kind of clue, perhaps something lying on the
ground, anything that would be of help — a magical stone, a wand with a big,
tacky star on the end of it, or maybe a wooden stake to drive
through her heart. I didn’t know if Faery people died like
vampires, but I’d will be willing to try almost anything.

The two of them went at it, grunting like animals, while I
circled about them. His trousers were down around his knees and his
shirt was unbuttoned. So there were no clothes lying about the
clearing.

I weaved through the trees, pausing every now and then to make
sure I wasn’t being seen. The two of them were so far into
each other, almost literally, I probably could’ve been dancing
around them and they wouldn’t have noticed me.

I continued stalking through the clearing. They rolled over, the
man now on top. He slowly thrust into her, and I decided to keep
moving. I couldn’t help but observe, though, that he had a really
nice butt.

That made me think of Chris. Then I wondered if she was charming
this man into having sex. Did all Faery creatures do that?

I stalked further, inching my way in closer. I searched, but
found nothing.

Damn.

There had to be something, anything I could use against her. I
walked in from behind them. They had rolled back over again, the
man now being ridden once more. Except this time, their movements
were more urgent. I figured I’d better act quick before they
finished.

“Oh, lord, I love you,” moaned the man.

“And, I, you,” Morgana groaned back.

I noticed a green scarf lying on the ground. I grabbed it and
then inched back. I don’t know why I took it, but something
of hers, anything, might be of some help.

I slipped back into the trees as their moaning got louder.

I lowered myself back down the ledge as the sound of the
waterfall drowned out their climax.

When I reached the little area where I’d once found Brokk, I
paused. I looked at the scarf. It was silk and embroidered with an
intricate golden weave along its edges. There was no writing, or
anything that looked legible. Yet, I felt as if I had something, a
small victory perhaps. I had taken something from
her
for once.
Maybe next time I’d find a big rock and hit her with it. I
wasn’t sure that would help, since this was dreaming rather
than the type of trip I took before with the earrings. And even
then, I wasn’t sure how much of what happened on those trips
affected the real world.

I gripped the scarf. Since I didn’t seem to be waking, I
decided it was time to see if I could find Chris.

I followed the stream to where I’d seen the little Faeries
travel before. I listened for any sign of Morgana or her
lover, but I heard nothing.

I arrived at the pond — it was filled once more with fey
folk of various kinds. Some were hairy, most had different tattooed
symbols, and they were all naked. Chris was there, as was Jonathan.
I was taken a little aback when I saw the two of them kissing each
other. Based on what I was seeing, you wouldn’t know they didn’t seem to get along very well in the real world.
I took a close note of Jonathan’s body. His stomach was
ripped and his chest was better built than what his shirt revealed.
So were his arms, which were now wrapped around Chris. My feet
gravitated towards the water, and it took every ounce of control I
had not to get in and join them.

There was a carnality to the air, a primal urge permeating
everything. I inhaled it and stepped closer. The others went about
their business. A few interrupted Chris and Jonathan, but then let
them embrace each other once more. A part of me was strangely
aroused.

I stepped to the waters’ edge, letting the dress slip from
my body like it was nothing more than a mere robe. The scarf
drifted to the forest floor. The fey creatures let me pass without
so much as a word or glance. They seemed to slip out of the way
merely because their own pursuit of pleasure required it.

I approached Chris and Jonathan. They continued to kiss, but as
I got closer they stopped. Then they took me between them, pressing
their bodies against mine. They were both hard and wanting.

That was when I woke up.

I could have cursed my wretched luck. Instead of
Jonathan’s hardened body pressing against my back, there was
the tree trunk.

I inhaled the early morning air — crisp and light. The
birds were doing their thing, fortunately not too close to my
ears.

Jonathan was back, staring at me with those dark eyes of his. I
gulped, not only because of the intense look he was giving me, but
because he was holding the green scarf in his hand.

Chapter 20

 

I sat up, looking at the scarf. Brokk was jumping up and down
trying to take it from Jonathan’s hand.

“Where did you get that?” I asked.

“I might ask you the same question. This is embroidered
with the thread of the Summer Court. You dropped it a few moments
ago. One moment, there was nothing in your hand, the next it was
there.” He crept towards me. “Have any strange
dreams?”

I couldn’t really back away. And as much as what had happened
in the dream had been really intriguing, I didn’t really want
Jonathan in my space right now. I had to think.

I had pulled the scarf into the real world from out of my dream?
What did that mean?

Could I bring something
into
the dream then?

Of course, I couldn’t help but wonder
what
I would bring
and what I would do with it.

A knife? A sword? A big frickin’ laser-guided bazooka?
The
latter seemed so crass, but if it came to it, would I need to kill
her?
Could I?

While Jonathan waited on my answer, Brokk snatched the scarf and
brought it to me.

“I took it from her in my dream,” I said. I
didn’t tell him how I was still pining for his hardened body
pressing against my back. I took a deep breath.

“Did you know you could do that?” he asked.

“No,” I said, studying the intricate weave. It was
odd feeling it between my fingers. It was real. “I
don’t know why I took it, but I had no idea I could drag it
back here.”

“Come on,” he said, offering his hand. “We
need to get to the Goblin Market if we’re going to get you
another set of earrings.”

“The what?” I asked, taking it. He pulled me towards
him. I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead he wiped a couple
of leaves from my hair, and then started to climb down.

“The Goblin Market,” he said as he descended.
“It’s like a flea market, but for the fey
creatures.”

I climbed down after him and then paused to scour the forest.
The howlers were gone, and there was no sign of their prints. Brokk
climbed onto my shoulder and sat.

As we walked at Jonathan’s brisk pace, I wondered about
the earrings. “When I wear the earrings she can see me in the
visions, and she’s attacked me. In my dreams, she
didn’t see me.”

He slowed enough to allow me to catch up. “It’s
because I’m here and you’re wearing the brooch. I think
she can’t see you in the visions just like in the real world.
And the dreams are a side-effect of using the earrings. Looks like
you can make similar trips in your dreams.”

That made sense, actually. If Chris was able to protect my
dreams, that would explain why she had tried to drown me when he’d
gone to the bathroom on the plane. It wasn’t until he
returned that I woke.

I nodded my head, still a little nervous about this. I
didn’t savor being drowned or meeting any other untimely end,
but I supposed if I was going to figure this out, the dreams were
the best chance I had.

We continued through the woods until we hit open farmland once
more. The sun had only just risen, so it was still quite early.
There was little human movement about.

Jonathan seemed in a lighter mood as we marched in the sun. We
talked about my life after my visit to England. I filled him in on
the meds, the doctors, and my mother.

“Why didn’t you fight them?” he asked.

“Because I was told I was crazy,” I said.
“First, humans aren’t aware of your world. Or, most of
them aren’t I assume. When people talk about faeries,
everyone thinks they’re nuts. So I was led to believe I was
seeing things that weren’t really there, and I needed help.
What’s worse, though, is that my mother knew it was real, and
she still led me to believe I was crazy. Then, when I returned from
England, she finally found a doctor that could help. I’d been
on the meds since.”

I thought about that visit to England. I wanted to mention how
much I’d hurt when he had disappeared, about how I’d
left England scarred, but he veered off the path. He took a sudden
turn at an old oak tree, down a less trodden route, putting his
finger to his lips to indicate quiet. We then crept towards a
stream lined with old willows.

I could hear what sounded like wind chimes as we got closer, and
voices — a lot of them. There was laughter and merriment.

As we rounded one of the willows, I stopped in my tracks.
Jonathan paused, looking down the stream to where tables and tents
were set up. It was a market, alright — complete with candied
fruits, clothing, small animals in cages, and pastries, along with the
ever-present scent of berries and apples. The place was crowded.
The more human looking ones could’ve been anything, Nymphs or
Trolls like Jonathan and Chris. There were others I had no idea how
to identify. Some were half the size of humans, some were the size
of the little winged Faeries, and some were combinations
thereof.

Jonathan noticed my hesitation. “Stay here,” he
said. “Sit down, and don’t look at anyone. The fey
don’t like having their business prodded into, so pretend
like you don’t see them and look down at the water.” He
unpinned the brooch.

“What are you taking that for?” I asked. “I
thought it’s supposed to protect me.”

“It hides you, and it’s weakening already. I need to
recharge it. I won’t be long.” He must have seen the
worry in my face. “Brokk knows how to find me should anything
go wrong. Don’t worry.” He kissed my forehead and I was
a little taken aback. He smiled his dimpled grin and took off into
the market.

I stayed where I was, but found it hard to just stare at the
water. If there was anything I could use to save Chris or myself, I
needed to know. That said, I wasn’t so foolish as to
completely ignore Jonathan’s advice. I just watched from the
corner of my eye.

Brokk sat beside me, patted my hand, and watched the market from
where we sat.

I pulled my knees to my chest, resting my head on my folded
arms. It was a casual enough pose, I hoped, and allowed me full
view of what was happening. I have to say, feigning oblivion to
their presence was a little challenging.

Everyone here was dressed from eras gone by, no one form of
apparel standing out any more than another. Jonathan was one of the
few dressed in more modern attire, yet no one seemed to pay any
attention to it.

A lot of the women were in those puffy dresses from my dream.
Fortunately none of them were Morgana.

Brokk pulled at my ankle. He motioned for me to stand up.

I contemplated telling him that Jonathan had said to remain
here. But then, Brokk had never really given me bad advice so far,
so I decided to go with it. I picked him up and rose.

He grabbed the scarf and held it up, indicating I should wear it
around my neck. Then he pointed towards the market. I did as he
suggested.

I wasn’t sure if I should walk with my head high and
appear as if I belonged there, or try to remain obscure and skulk.
After Brokk picked up my chin I went with the former.

BOOK: Broken
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ads

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