Quicksilver (Fae & Alchemy, #1)

by Callie Hart

skin thing, too? Some kind of fungal infection, I think.” “Ow! It’s almost down to th...

“This… is a learning experience, I think. There are always consequences to our actions. Your new furry bracelet is a consequence of human weakness. Wear it with pride.”

The little fox sneezed, his black eyes locked on mine. If a fox could have an expression, his would have been one of panic. He wanted me to help him, I thought, but how was I supposed to do that when, if anything, he was biting down even harder?

“Let go, let go, leggo, leggo, leggo,” I pleaded. “Please let go. I don’t want to have to hurt you. I’m sorry we ruined your home. I promi...

“Don’t make promises on my behalf,” Kingfisher interjected. “I think it would make a great hat.” I growled at K...

As if we’d found some common ground, the little fox slowly relaxed its grip on my forearm, its jaws shaking as if it were going against its better nature by releasing me. I stood, pressing my hand against the puncture marks in my skin, attempting to stem the flow of blood. The fox shot Kingfisher a wary look and darted under my sk...

“Finally. A use for all of that ridiculous material. Such a pretty little doll in her pretty...

“Hey! I don’t want to w...

“What was I wearing when you...

“A whole lot of blood.” Fisher pondered. Frowned. “Wait. I seem to recall that your intestines might have...

Pants and a ...

“And a pair of boots with really good soles. Do you have any idea what...

“Let me guess. Your virginity.” “Fuck you, Fisher.” “Sure.” He smirked. “But I’m afraid I don’t have any new bo...

“And you…” He flicked his wrist again, and the tight crimson gown Layne dressed me in this morning disappeared into thin air. I drew in a full, deep breath for the first time in six hours and almost wept at the rush of air flooding my lungs. I was wearing normal clothes. My clo—no, wait. They weren’t my clothes. They were similar, yes, but there were marked differences between the clothes Kingfisher had found me in and these garments. The pants were thicker. Black, and not dirty white. The material was tough but supple. Skintight. Well, I guess I couldn’t complain about that after being so bent out of shape about the frills Layne had put me in. The shirt was more of a tunic. Black. A little longer in the body than I was used to. More in keeping with Fae fashion. There were so many pockets. At my waist hung a leather belt with numerous loops for tools and… weapons? There was an actual knife strapped to my thigh. I stared down at the black onyx handle, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.

At the very center of his chest, snarling and fierce, another wolf’s head had been inked into his skin. Many smaller tattoos surrounded it or broke off from it, but I couldn’t tell what they were without inspecting him much more closely, and no way I was doing that.

“I know knives,” I said, looking down at the floor. “You said you knew your way around a forge the other day. And then you tried to stick your finger inside a glowing hot crucible.” “I do know my way around a forge. I just… I wasn’t thinking.” He wiped his hands on his shirt and tossed it onto the workbench. “You could slice your own throat wide open with a knife like that if you forget to think, Osha.” “Just give me the damn quicksilver already. Let’s see if we can bind this bone with it and turn it into something useful.”

So much skin. So much ink. His tattoos on his back were interwoven—bold, sweeping lines that seemed to form pathways and tell stories. I wasn’t about to lie to myself; I wanted to know about every single one of them—what they meant and when he’d got them. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of asking, though. I had things I needed to take care of.

I hadn’t seen many beautiful things in my short life. But, of all the beautiful things I had seen, Fisher was the most beautiful of all.

Fisher was the epitome of everything that was strong, and male, and powerful. He was so much more than anything I’d experienced before. He was beautiful. Looking at him made me feel like I couldn’t catch my breath.

“If you want it, come here and touch it,”

“What do you know about Fae anatomy, Osha?”

“On a surface level, yes,”

“We have similar internal organs, though we do possess a few that humans do not.”

“We’re bigger. Taller, o...

“Of co...

“Our hearts are bigger ...

“Rea...

“Mm-hmm.” “Wow. Weird.” “Our eyesight is far superior to yours. O...

Heat flared in the center of my chest. The way he was looking at me… there was nothing friendly about it. Kingfisher and I weren’t friends. At best, we were loose allies who irritated the hell out of each other. So why, then, was he...

“Our sense of taste is superior to yours. Touch. Our sense of hearing is very sharp. We can hear the smallest sound at a great distance.” The silver in his right eye flared as he exhaled, his breath fanning...

“I don’t hate your kind. I’m just disappointed by how breakable you are. If I held you down and fucked you the way I’m imagining fucking you right now, I doubt that you’d survive it.”

“I wouldn’t fuck you—if you were the last living—” “Don’t bother.” The words held bite. “Lying is pointless with your heart betraying you so loudly.” “It’s beating fast because I’m afraid,”

“Of me?” Kingfisher huffed a blast of laughter down his nose. “No, you’re not. You should be, but you’re not. That’s one of the things I like most about ...

“Really?” He looked down at our bodies: his legs still on either side of me but held away from me. His other hand, resting on top of his thigh again. My hands clenched into fists at my sides. “You can pull away at any time. Looks to me like you’re choosing to stay. It also looks like you’re having to stop yourself from touching me. You want to touch me the way I’m touching you, don’t you? To feel the weight of me beneath your palms. The ...

“That your body is betraying you in other ways. That I can smell you, Little Osha, and I’m thinking about drinking the sweet nectar you’re making for me straight from the fucking cup.”

Aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to know what I taste like?”

“If you try to punch me again, I’ll tie your hands behind your fucking back,”

“Go on. Pull back. I won’t stop you,” he said. “Or you could kiss me. You could kiss me. I’ll just sit here. I won’t move a muscle.” “Why would I do that?” “Because you’re intrigued. Because you’re bored. Because you’re super fucking aroused right now, and you want to follow through on whatever little fantasies are playing out in your head.”

“Yeah. Right. I’m just… going to kiss you. And you’re just going to sit there. You aren’t going to move a muscle. You’re not even going to kiss me back?” Gods above, saying it out loud made it sound even more ridiculous. Kingfisher just stared at me. “Find out.”

This was the kiss to end all kisses. Demanding, urgent, and carnal.

“Careful,” he panted. “I swore I’d be still while you kissed me. At no point did I promise to exercise restraint if you climbed up into my lap and started grinding yourself against my cock.”

“I didn’t say I minded. But for next time, that’s where the line is. You want to cross it, I’ll happily join you on the other side. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

Fisher grinned so hard that a small dimple appeared, forming a deep groove in his ch...

“If you say so, Little Osha.”

“Come on. Was it really that bad?” “Yes!”

“Thrum, thrum, thrum, thrum, thrum, thrum, thrum. So fast. Like a hummingbird. Get the fox bite looked at, Little Osha. You don’t want that arm falling off.” Right before my eyes, Fisher dematerialized into a blur of black sand and smoke.

Kingfisher. He emerged from the cloud of black smoke like a night terror stepping through the shadowy gates of hell. He wore the same shirt he’d been wearing in the forge. The same pants, too. But now he also wore his chest protector and his gorget, and in his hand, he held Nimerelle aloft, the black sword crackling with an unseen power that drew that darkness to it like a shroud. Kingfisher’s boots planted firmly on the lip of the pool. There he stayed, blocking the path between me and my brother. His eyes blazed. “I’m hurt. Leaving without saying goodbye?”

“I don’t owe you a goodbye. I don’t owe you anything!” “YOU OWE ME YOUR LIFE!”

Fisher was death incarnate, and he was coming right for me.