The Witch's Quest. Michele Hauf
days ago. He never mentions you.”
“Why should he?”
Kelyn shrugged a shoulder and cast his glance to the ground, his gaze stretching behind her. She shouldn’t have said that. It was the truth, though. She considered him a friend. Just that.
“You look...stuck,” he said. Suddenly, his gaze went fierce and he looked over her shoulder.
“What’s—”
Before she could summon a stupid excuse, Valor heard the roar. A beastly, slobbery utterance accompanied by a foul, greasy odor that filled the air as if a stink bomb had been set off.
Kelyn leaped, and in midair his wings unfurled. The gorgeous violet-and-silver appendages lifted him with a flap or two and he met the creature that had jumped high to collide with him in a crush of growls and slapping body parts. The twosome landed on the ground ten feet before Valor, the heavy weight of Kelyn’s opponent denting the moss and tearing up clods of sod.
Valor dug her fingers into the leaves and whispered a protection spell that drew a white light over her body and snapped against her form. The oak tree growled at the intrusion and she felt her knees get sucked deeper into the earth. The tree seemed to feed off her witch magic. And in the next instant, the protection shattered, like plastic crinkling over her skin, and it fell away.
Never had she felt so helpless. Pray to the goddess, Kelyn could defeat the aggressor, which was five times his size and built like a bear. It was a troll of some sort. Or so she guessed. She’d never seen one but knew they existed.
Kelyn punched the creature in its barrel gut. The troll yowled and kicked Kelyn off, sending the faery flying through the air where a flap of his wings stopped him from crashing into the tree canopy. Aiming for the troll, Kelyn arrowed down and landed a kick to the thing’s blocky head.
Valor slapped her hands over her head in protection, but it didn’t matter. Every moment that passed, she felt her body move minutely deeper into the cold, compressing earth.
With one final punch to its spine from Kelyn’s fist, the troll went down, landing on the moss in a sprawl. It shuddered like a gelatinous gray glob of Thanksgiving Jell-O, and then, with an explosion of faery dust that decorated the air, it dissipated.
And behind the glittering shimmer stood Kelyn, wiping the dust from his arms and abs as if he had only tussled with a minor annoyance.
Valor couldn’t stop looking around at the scatter of dust that glinted madly. More beautiful than she would imagine coming from such an atrocious creature. It almost put the angel dust to shame.
Kelyn approached. “What was it you were saying about muscled men rescuing you?”
“I didn’t...” She’d not said anything about being rescued. But really? She might have to change her tune about the leaner versions.
“You didn’t what? Ask for rescue? Looks like you might be in need of just that.”
“I’m cool.” Why had she said that? Why the need to act as though death were not dragging her down into the earth?
Kelyn squatted before her, arms resting on his thighs. “I can’t win with you, can I, Valor?”
“What do you mean? Win?”
“You’re a hard woman to please, is all.”
“No, I’m not. All it takes is some good dark coffee to make me happy.”
“Coffee served up with muscles. Like my brother Trouble has?”
“What? What is it with you and your concern about me and Trouble? We only ever—”
He put up a hand to stop her from saying more. “Don’t need the details.”
“There are no details.”
Okay, well, there had been that one time. But she wasn’t stupid enough to fill the brother in on the salacious stuff. Trouble had probably already done that.
“I really liked you,” Kelyn said, looking aside now. He’d dropped his shoulders, and the sweat and troll dust glistening on his abs drew Valor’s eye. “For a while there.”
“What do you mean?” She met his lift of chin and then figured it out. “You mean...?”
He shrugged. “But then you tripped into my brother’s arms and that’s all she wrote. I always manage to lose the girl to him. What is it about him? He’s a big lunk!”
Valor smiled at that assessment. Trouble did have some lunkish qualities. Okay, a lot of lunkish qualities. But she had no idea Kelyn had...lusted after her? “Your brother and I are not in a relationship.”
“Trouble is never in relationships,” Kelyn said sharply.
Now he eyed her legs and squinted. He bent to study behind her, and there was nothing Valor could do to stop him, because she was stuck there.
“You’ve been pinned!” He gripped her by the shoulders. “What the hell? Why didn’t you say something? I thought you were just lying around, digging up—whatever weird stuff it is you witches dig up in forests. Did you plan on staying here the rest of the night without saying anything?”
“I don’t have much of a choice. I’m stuck! And my phone is in the spell box, which got crushed by the falling troll. I was prepared to die out here until you came along. And then your abs distracted me and I forgot to ask for help.”
“Really?” He gave her the most unbelieving look ever and slapped a hand over his glittery abs. “That’s your story?”
She nodded. “And I’m sticking to it.”
“You’re pinned, Valor! That only ever ends in death. How did this happen?”
“I was minding my own business, plucking some mushrooms—”
“Minding your own...? You were performing a spell!”
“Maybe.”
“Valor! Even if you weren’t, you’ve taken things.” He gestured to the mangled tackle box. “Nothing should ever be taken out from the Darkwood. Especially not for magics that are not faery blessed.”
“You wouldn’t mind offering me a blessing or two right about now, would you?” she asked sheepishly.
Kelyn laughed softly. “I haven’t such power.”
“Stop laughing. It’s not funny. I’m going to die here. I don’t know how to get unpinned. My legs... They’re getting sucked deeper and deeper. Kelyn...”
Now she surrendered to the worrying reality of imminent death. She gasped and heaved in breaths quickly. Was this what a panic attack felt like?
Kelyn gripped her by the shoulders and she had to crane her neck awkwardly to meet his delving gaze. In that moment, Valor wished she’d known about his affection toward her. He was a handsome man. And a kind one, from what she knew about him. Always volunteering around town, and he helped rehabilitate injured raptors from what she remembered Trouble telling her. The complete opposite of his boisterous and cocky older brother.
Curse her attraction to the bad boys.
“I can go for help,” he said.
She grabbed his forearms, keeping him there before her. If he left her alone, she’d die. Already she had been consumed up to her thighs. “Get help from who? There’s no one who can help me but a faery. You’re a faery. Can’t you do something? Your magic works in this forest.”
He sighed heavily and shook his head. “I can fly and I’ve strength immeasurable and can even work some cool spells with my sigils, but I am mortal-realm-born. I’ve not half the power of those from Faery. And if you’ve been pinned by a faery tree, then you are in need of serious enchantment to get free. How long have you been here?”
“A couple hours?