Some Kind of Magic (15 page)

his voice. Ray raised his head.

“Callalily.” He spoke quietly, flatly, without turning,

because he couldn"t look at Cal now without quite possibly

losing it completely. “Wait in the car.” He couldn"t think

without picturing Cal with him, at his home, out here,

curling around him with the free, wild, forest air blanketing

them.

He could almost
hear
Cal"s pout, the protest about to

happen, and preempted it.

“Now, Cal. Please.”

It was the
please
that worked. Cal made a thoughtful,

unhappy sound that was just wrong coming from his kind

and moved. Only once he was really gone did Ray get back to

business.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Kirkpatrick, you seem to be

innocent, and I have no reason to kick your ass. Unless you

want to give me one….” He stopped. It was a speech he"d

given before. He only half meant it, usually. At the moment,

however, he felt raw enough to consider rearranging that

young face with his claws.

Penelope switched to overly bright sarcasm. “Thank you

so
much for your time today. The Los Cerros Police

Department appreciates your cooperation. If you have any

questions, feel free to call….”

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102

Ray turned before she was done handing over

information that Kirkpatrick didn"t want or need. Seconds

later she was crashing through the trees behind him, not

exactly in her element out here.

She still had the keys, but just to be clear, Ray slammed

into the passenger seat, not glancing in the backseat at all.

“You drive.”

He rolled down his window the rest of the way, not

especially caring, for once, if Cal was chilled, because the

window down meant Cal"s scent was somewhat diluted. He

closed his eyes as Penn started driving and then consciously

forced himself to shift back to fully human.

Some of the rest of him had changed too. He"d torn his

shirt, damn it. If only that was his biggest problem right

now. He"d revealed too much.

Not with the shifting. Cal had seen Ray semi-shift once

before, had leaned back with his bared throat and his round

eyes and nearly asked for Ray to bite him.

Ray hadn"t, a regret that still burned.

He had only opened his mouth, sticky with the heat,

soaked to the skin from his shower, and watched the colors in

Cal"s eyes swirl.

“What are you waiting for, Rover?” Cal had demanded,

and Ray had shifted, knowing it wasn"t what Cal had been

asking for but unable to keep himself from wondering what

Cal Parker, his brand new mate, but not, would think of him.

He hadn"t changed all the way, but just enough, leaving

himself on the edge.

Strength. Implied violence. Power, that"s what Ray was

when he was like that, and yet he"d been shuddering and

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103

weak in front of one little half-fairy, hoping he could be

anything to those eyes that Cal would want.

He had been a creature in pain and still hoping, and Cal

hadn"t noticed. Ray remembered thinking for the first time that

it wasn"t fair, that it wasn"t right that he should want a fairy

like this, a fairy who would never be undone for Ray in the

same way.

But then a hand had touched him, and he had watched,

stunned, as Cal"s palm had wandered over his chest, petting

through his fur.

“Soft.” Cal had been sweet, was always sweet, even

when he was breaking Ray"s heart. “Soft,” he"d said. “You"d

think you"d be scary. But you"re soft.”

Ray was shaking and turned his face away from the

others, facing the window as his pulse raced in his ears, left

him hot. His breathing was loud, the others would notice.

But he didn"t stop replaying the memory, wishing, as he

always did, that he hadn"t been so stupid.

With those words hanging between them, Cal had

hesitated again, the light around him unstable, glitter

exploding, leaving glowing auras in Ray"s vision. And then Cal

had gasped and the world had gone back to normal.

“Rover.” Cal"s words still buzzed like bees around their

honey. “Ray. You. You"re….”

Ray had known then that Cal hadn"t understood. He had

wanted to howl, there with claws against the wall on either

side of Cal, with their breath mingling and his mate, his brand

new but unclaimed mate so close.

But Cal hadn"t understood, still didn"t. What it meant.

What Ray needed.

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104

Ray made a noise, strangled and furious, that made

Penn glance at him with worry and which made Cal, with

that same un-fairy-like discretion he showed on occasion,

begin to talk only to her. It was all nonsense, shotgun

sequencing, the weather, the trees, elementary particles,

what peony nectar tasted like compared to fermented

rosewater, how could Penelope possibly prefer ouzo, topics

just to fill the silence and spare Ray the need to say

anything.

He was grateful and hated it at the same time. When Cal

cared for him like this, it made the longing worse, reminded

him of what he could have and why he shouldn"t have it. He

hadn"t expected Kirkpatrick to know that.

He tried not to listen for that reason, only if it had no

distraction, his mind kept replaying Kirkpatrick"s words.

And then Cal, asking
Why?
Whispering,
There you are

and here I am. Just take me.

He should have by now. Spared himself some of this

agony and taken what Cal could give him and pretend it

hadn"t been anything else when Cal flitted on to someone

else so Cal wouldn"t feel guilty for wounding him.

Breaking his heart. Leaving him soulsick. It wouldn"t be

something Ray would be able to hide anymore, not after

briefly having Cal in his bed with him. Cal and his eyes that

according to Nasreen saw more than Ray could ever guess.

Cal would look at him and know. Not that Ray would blame

him, or try to force him to stay.

It wasn"t Cal"s fault, it was his nature. Fairies couldn"t

help it. They simply weren"t meant to be unhappy and didn"t

like to see others that way either.

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105

Proving his point, they weren"t back in town a minute

before Cal apparently decided that Ray had had enough time

to brood.

“So he wasn"t the guy, obviously. Even if he was a total

dick.”

“Word.” Penn sniffed. “That guy had an attitude I didn"t

care for, but he"s no murderer.” Cal moved from where he"d

been sitting primly for the drive and pressed against Ray"s

seat. Ray tensed, and Cal retreated.

“Ray?” he started in a small voice, and Ray had the sick

feeling he was going to ask, or that he"d heard what he"d

whispered to Kirkpatrick after all. He held his breath. “Ray.”

Cal was so quiet. “Do you really think I"m prettier than he

is?”

“Cal.” In his mind, Ray was holding Cal right now, and

in reality Cal was… being Cal.

“Really. I had no idea other werewolves were so…

impressive. I mean, everyone says fairies are so beautiful,

but you guys are something else. I wouldn"t blame you at all

for preferring that. I mean, I clearly….”

Ray squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. If he could

have, he would have shifted right there and bolted from the

car. He imagined Cal"s hand on Kirkpatrick"s chest and then

couldn"t take it anymore. “Cal,” he said again. “Shut up.”

Cal pouted silently for the rest of the drive, with even

his wings quiet and motionless. Only his glitter continued to

move, pouring steadily down.

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106

RAY"S mood rubbed off on Penn. She got out of the car

immediately back at the station, offering him a tight,

consoling smile but unable to talk with Cal still there. In the

end, when Ray didn"t move from his seat, she nodded at him

and headed inside to get her things and go home. Soak in

her tub. Eat something.

Ray needed to eat again too, but he didn"t feel hungry.

Just drained. Tired. It was dark out, the growing moon

taunting him. He kept his eyes closed as the back door

opened and Cal climbed out of the car, kept them shut when

Cal closed the door after him, but then gave a start when his

door was swung open with force.

He looked up and there he was. Cal Parker. The bane of

his existence and his reason for living.

“Back off, Primrose.”

“No.” It was short and direct and forceful. Ray frowned.

He was a werewolf and a suspected murderer. Why couldn"t

Cal take him seriously, just this once? He should be afraid.

Ray had
growled
. Cal should be terrified. He should be

taking his little non-flying, half-fairy ass out of there as fast

as he could and find some new Being to torment.

But Cal was still, just the wings giving away his

agitation. They were worse than a tail, those wings. Ray

glared at them, at Cal, then sat up, because that lift to Cal"s

chin meant business.

“Oh, good. Here it comes. Got something to say, little

fairy?” He sounded like Kirkpatrick and hated it. Cal just

waved at him, then crossed his arms.

“What that guy said,” he began, and Ray jerked his eyes

away so they couldn"t be read, felt his muscles tighten. “You

don"t have to defend me, Ray.”

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107

He looked right back, hot all over, even knowing that he

ought to be grateful that Cal hadn"t understood.

“Yes, I
do,
Calla—” Damn it. He was breathing hard.

They both were, he realized. He wanted to laugh. Or cry. Or

claw up the car"s upholstery. It was nice to know Cal didn"t

know everything after all, but it would have been useful if

just once he
could
have understood what this was for Ray.

What the teasing did to him. What Mated meant. Maybe even

explain why Ray"s soul had locked onto Cal"s with no

warning.

But of course he didn"t. Ray stared back at him, aware

that his frustration was in his face for Cal to see. He

swallowed, and Cal wet his mouth.

He"d been eating jellybeans since they"d hit town. His

lips were sugary pink, his tongue stained purple and green.

His voice was strangely low, humming like his wings.

“You know, normally I
hate
when people say my name.

But when you say it, it"s like I can"t stop myself.”

“Callalily.” Ray didn"t say more than that, didn"t nod or

move, but then somehow he was sitting back as he got a lap

full of fairy. He was stunned, burning, glitter settling on him

like popping bubbles, the barest tickle. Then Cal"s legs were

crushed on either side of him, on him because Ray took up

the entire seat, and yet he couldn"t seem to feel any pain at

all.

He could take the weight off, hold Cal up easily without

effort, and he did, putting his hands at Cal"s back only to

slide them under his shirt, over it, letting the frantic rush of

wings try to cool them.

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108

Ray turned his head, burying his face in the crook of

Cal"s neck and shoulder and breathing in deep,

perfect/sugar/color
.
Need/need/need
.
Cal
.
His Cal.

He should stop but he didn"t want to, and Cal didn"t

want him to either. His hands slid to the headrest, to Ray"s

hair.

“I knew it.” Triumphant and breathless and radiating

desire, just as promised. “I knew you"d been smelling me.”

Someone with a sense of self-preservation might have

paused at that, thought about his desk and chair, why Cal

would torture him like that deliberately, but Ray seemed to

have misplaced his. Cal was in his lap. In his lungs. In his

blood. Talking to push him further over the edge.

“Tell me, Ray. What do I smell like to you? Tell me.”

Ray tightened his hands but couldn"t answer. He shook

his head, then slid his mouth along the pounding rush of

Cal"s pulse, up to his mouth to kiss him. It was rough,