21. Maeve

Arthur and I lay under the apple trees for the rest of the morning. I thought he’d kiss me again. The hunger in his eyes certainly desired it. But his words and his touches were almost more intimate.

Every time my fingers grazed his, or his breath tickled my skin, I thought of jumping him and pressing my mouth to his again. But something held me back. No, not something. Lots of things. The dream. The fact the guys were all hiding something from me, that Corbin at least knew who I was before I arrived at Briarwood. The look on Rowan’s face this morning. Emily’s tinkling laugh.

I thought about what Arthur said to me, about how he’d lost control. My chest throbbed – not with tightness, but with a weird nakedness, as if Arthur’s story had opened a gaping, bleeding wound through which all my pain and grief now poured.

Arthur said Briarwood was a place of healing. I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling the sorrow throbbing behind it, knowing in my heart this was only the beginning of a great unleashing. I felt sliced up, pieces of me chopped off and scattered on the wind. I’d lost pieces when the Crawfords died, more pieces when Pastor Eric took our house away, and more when MIT rescinded my scholarship. Maeve Moore nee Crawford was just bits of flesh and misery, clusters of lamenting electrons floating in the cosmos. But maybe in this place, where fairytales were real and there was a hot guy around every corner, maybe I could put all the pieces back together again.

Arthur placed his arm around me and my body flared with desire. The wound in my chest gaped a little wider as the ache between my legs rose up to meet it.

Oh, bollocks.Such a great phrase. It rolled off the tongue even better than goddammit. Bollocks seemed an accurate descriptor for this situation I found myself in.

I shifted my weight around, trying to shake away the sensation, but I accidentally brushed my thigh against Arthur’s crotch, and his breath caught on his lips, and that only made things worse.

Great, now I was more confused than ever. What did I even want from Arthur? He may be Aragorn and Geralt come to life, but he wasn’t the kind of guy I could see myself dating, was he?

I shouldn’t even be dating anyone. I didn’t know how long I’d even be staying in England. What would happen to us if I had to sell the castle? Not to mention the fact that I was a scientist and he was a blond-haired, sword-wielding witch who could shoot fire from his palms.

It would never work.

But the flutter in my chest and the ache in my stomach begged to differ. Maybe it could work for a night, for as many nights as it took to make my heart stop aching.

My parents chastity teachings hadn’t rubbed off on me – I didn’t have to date Arthur to…to shag him. This heat between us didn’t have to go anywhere. It could be my wild English fling before I settled down to a life of equations and working my ass off to get into the space program.

The idea had its merits, but was I ready for sex? Would it tear open the wound in my chest so I bled my sorrow everywhere? Would it break me apart completely? And was Arthur even the right guy for that? He said himself that he burned whoever he touched. And I had so many options at Briarwood…

“What are you thinking about?” Arthur asked, his breath tickling my ear. “Your face went serious all of a sudden.”

I’m thinking about jumping your bones. I’m thinking that you’re the first of the guys at Briarwood to spill your guts to me. I’m thinking that if I let you in, you’ll burn me, and maybe I’ll like it, and maybe it will turn me to ashes.

I shrugged. “I’m just trying to square up everything I learned about the fae and your coven with my multiverse theory. There’s a lot of thinking I have to do, and I’d really like to start setting up some equipment and writing this all down. I need to formulate a proper hypothesis.”

“Can you explain this theory of yours to me, using the most offensively simple terms?”

“Sure,” I smile. “Buckle up, and I’ll take you on a wild ride through theoretical physics.”

I was still trying to demonstrate the multiverse theory to Arthur using daisies I’d picked off the lawn when Flynn called us for lunch. We ate out on the porch again – Flynn said it was a rule in England that you couldn’t waste a single day of sunshine because we only got a handful each year. Rowan had made some traditional English dish called Toad-in-the-Hole, which sounded disgusting but was actually delicious; beautiful, thick homemade sausages cooked inside a giant savory dough and smothered with a thick gravy. I had three helpings, all washed down with some HP sauce (it was starting to grow on me) and a glass of elderflower cider Arthur had made. All the other guys had cider except for Rowan, who sipped a cup of steaming tea.

“I’ve compiled some research you might find interesting in the library,” Corbin said to me. “If you give me a list of the implements you want, Arthur and I will run into town and grab them this afternoon.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask about why Corbin was lying about where he knew me from, but I decided to hold off until we were alone.

I shook my head. “I have to come with you. I need to choose this stuff on my own. I’ll be fine,” I glowered at Corbin’s drawn face. “Arthur’s already taught me tons of sword moves, and if we all go together, I’m sure we’ll be safe. We could even take a taxi – the fae aren’t going to try anything out in the open, surely.”

“I don’t like it,” Corbin frowned.

“Oh, go on, you grumpy bastard.” Flynn speared the last piece of sausage off Corbin’s plate and shoved it in his mouth. “We can’t stay locked up here forever. My arms are about to fall off from all the hammering I’ve done in the forge this morning. Us Irishmen start to turn green if we don’t set foot in a pub every twenty-four hours.”

“Wag off, Flynn,” Corbin growled.

“I think we should go,” Arthur said, touching the daisy chain circlet I’d placed over his head. “Maeve’s been telling me about her theory, and I think there might be something to it. Any knowledge could potentially give us an advantage against the fae, and right now we need everything we can get.”

“We could talk to the girl,” Rowan mumbled into his chest.

The guys fell silent.

“What did you say, mate?” Corbin asked.

“The woman whose baby went missing yesterday. If she saw anything weird, she wouldn’t tell the police. But she might tell us.”

“That’s a brilliant idea,” I said. Rowan beamed. “It’s settled. We’re going to town.”

“Not today though,” Corbin said, pushing his chair out and collecting the plates. “We have a surprise for you this afternoon.”

“Another surprise?”

“This one was all my idea,” Flynn said. He grabbed my hand and dragged me around the side of the garden, where a flat lawn stretched out toward a low topiary maze. A series of metal hoops had been shoved into the pristine lawn, creating a weird zigzagging course. Flynn grinned as he handed me a flat-ended mallet.

“You’re a little like Alice, fallen through the rabbit hole into a strange new world where everyone says bollocks and Irishmen are the rightful rulers of the world. So I thought we could play some croquet, and then Rowan’s made a proper high tea – finger sandwiches and scones with jam and clotted cream and all that guff.”

“But—” It was on the tip of my tongue to say we couldn’t play croquet when the fae had stolen two babies and were pushing their way further and further into our realm, weakening the wormhole between the multiverse. But Flynn tilted his head to the side, and the smile he gave me made my heart somersault, and all my protests died on my lips.

“Look, we’re still no closer to getting those wee ones back from the fae, so I figure we need a distraction. Recharge our batteries and all that. I have a present for you, too.” Flynn opened my palm and pressed something into it – a round medallion on a leather cord. My fingers brushed over the elaborate knotwork pattern and that same stick writing Corbin and Rowan had on their tattoos. “I made it for you this morning. It will help protect you from the fae, and if you press it against their skin, you’d probably do a fecking load of damage.”

“Flynn, it’s beautiful.”

Flynn clasped the leather cord around my neck, and I placed my hand in Flynn’s and let him walk me across the yard, his flirty humor making my skin flush and my body light.

The multiverse could wait.