Read Online Of Blood and Honey (Fey and the Fallen) by Stina Leicht - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stina Leicht
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they’d been spending their afternoons. Guilty as he felt, he was also happy, even if the first time Mary Kate had let him make love to her he’d shamed himself by crying. She hadn’t laughed, or drawn back as he feared she would. Instead, she pulled him closer and whispered soothing words until the tears stopped.
Afterward, she kissed him tenderly and then said, “I thought I was the one who was supposed to weep.” Embarrassed, he’d looked away.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel ashamed.” She’d touched his cheek. “This means as much to you as it does to me. And that makes me love you all the more.”
Standing now in the hallway outside his flat, he checked his watch and saw it was three o’clock. He took the steps two at a time and then loped down the street. Running had once been a pleasure; it had been the one school activity in which he had excelled and after three months of confinement it had become a physical need. It was cloudy and cold, and the wind was up, but he didn’t realize he had forgotten his coat until he was halfway down the block.
Rounding the corner, he spotted her. A gust caught at Mary Kate’s long brown hair, pulling it into her pretty oval face. When the sun was bright it brought out golden highlights in her curls. In the approaching storm she resembled a graveyard angel. One graceful hand captured the flying tresses and trapped them behind her ear. Her coat flapped open, and he saw she was wearing a new green dress. The idea that she might be wearing it for him provided a measure of warmth in spite of the cold.
When he thought about it he supposed he had always loved her—ever since the day he’d been playing with a football, bouncing it off a wall. He’d accidentally hit her with it and then laughed when she’d cried. In response, she’d blackened his eye for him. Even at age nine the wee thing had had a punch that would fell a mule. She was four months older than him, fiercer than any angel written in the Bible and every damned bit as beautiful.
From the tilt of her chin he knew something was wrong. His heart stumbled. Running faster, he brought himself up short when two men stepped out of the alley. Neither looked happy.
“Stop right there, son,” Patrick Kelly said, holding up his hand. His big red face was redder than usual. Mr. Gallagher took a place next to Patrick.
Oh, Lord, it’s her father, Liam thought. Shite. He’s pissed.
Mary Kate closed the distance and threw her arms around him in a tight hug. Her face was wet and cold on the front of his shirt. He kissed the top of her head.
“Bridget told father.” She buried her face deeper. “Don’t know how she knew. I certainly didn’t tell her.”
“Shhh. It’s all right,” Liam said.
Patrick Kelly said, “Unhand the girl.”
Ignoring his stepfather, Liam pushed Mary Kate behind him. He was more concerned with Mr. Gallagher. Liam had known him almost as long as he’d known Mary Kate, but at the moment the man looked as though he was ready to punch someone.
Please, God, don’t let it come to that. I don’t want to hurt him, Liam thought.
“I said—”
Liam lifted his chin. An icy raindrop slapped him in the face. “I heard you the first time, Father.” Turning to Mr. Gallagher, Liam said, “I’m sorry, sir. You’re well within your ri—”
“Don’t be telling the man his rights,” Patrick Kelly said. “We’re here to see the proper thing done. And so it will be. You’ll not see the girl again.”
“I’m marrying her, if she’ll have me.” It was out before Liam had time to think.
Patrick moved closer and said, “Don’t be a fool, son. She’s only your fir—”
“Don’t.” Liam felt a twinge of terror as black memory tried to surface, but he shoved it down with all his might. A tingling sensation originating in his chest crawled down his limbs. He focused on the pressure of Mary Kate’s arms and prayed it would go away. The last time he’d felt like that he’d
Afterward, she kissed him tenderly and then said, “I thought I was the one who was supposed to weep.” Embarrassed, he’d looked away.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel ashamed.” She’d touched his cheek. “This means as much to you as it does to me. And that makes me love you all the more.”
Standing now in the hallway outside his flat, he checked his watch and saw it was three o’clock. He took the steps two at a time and then loped down the street. Running had once been a pleasure; it had been the one school activity in which he had excelled and after three months of confinement it had become a physical need. It was cloudy and cold, and the wind was up, but he didn’t realize he had forgotten his coat until he was halfway down the block.
Rounding the corner, he spotted her. A gust caught at Mary Kate’s long brown hair, pulling it into her pretty oval face. When the sun was bright it brought out golden highlights in her curls. In the approaching storm she resembled a graveyard angel. One graceful hand captured the flying tresses and trapped them behind her ear. Her coat flapped open, and he saw she was wearing a new green dress. The idea that she might be wearing it for him provided a measure of warmth in spite of the cold.
When he thought about it he supposed he had always loved her—ever since the day he’d been playing with a football, bouncing it off a wall. He’d accidentally hit her with it and then laughed when she’d cried. In response, she’d blackened his eye for him. Even at age nine the wee thing had had a punch that would fell a mule. She was four months older than him, fiercer than any angel written in the Bible and every damned bit as beautiful.
From the tilt of her chin he knew something was wrong. His heart stumbled. Running faster, he brought himself up short when two men stepped out of the alley. Neither looked happy.
“Stop right there, son,” Patrick Kelly said, holding up his hand. His big red face was redder than usual. Mr. Gallagher took a place next to Patrick.
Oh, Lord, it’s her father, Liam thought. Shite. He’s pissed.
Mary Kate closed the distance and threw her arms around him in a tight hug. Her face was wet and cold on the front of his shirt. He kissed the top of her head.
“Bridget told father.” She buried her face deeper. “Don’t know how she knew. I certainly didn’t tell her.”
“Shhh. It’s all right,” Liam said.
Patrick Kelly said, “Unhand the girl.”
Ignoring his stepfather, Liam pushed Mary Kate behind him. He was more concerned with Mr. Gallagher. Liam had known him almost as long as he’d known Mary Kate, but at the moment the man looked as though he was ready to punch someone.
Please, God, don’t let it come to that. I don’t want to hurt him, Liam thought.
“I said—”
Liam lifted his chin. An icy raindrop slapped him in the face. “I heard you the first time, Father.” Turning to Mr. Gallagher, Liam said, “I’m sorry, sir. You’re well within your ri—”
“Don’t be telling the man his rights,” Patrick Kelly said. “We’re here to see the proper thing done. And so it will be. You’ll not see the girl again.”
“I’m marrying her, if she’ll have me.” It was out before Liam had time to think.
Patrick moved closer and said, “Don’t be a fool, son. She’s only your fir—”
“Don’t.” Liam felt a twinge of terror as black memory tried to surface, but he shoved it down with all his might. A tingling sensation originating in his chest crawled down his limbs. He focused on the pressure of Mary Kate’s arms and prayed it would go away. The last time he’d felt like that he’d
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