“About seven miles,” Ben said. “This is a small wild-life preserve that David uses when he’s in the area. No one ever comes out—”
He stopped speaking when three people, two men each wearing half a horse costume, and a woman clad in a nude-colored body stocking and knee-length blond wig, strolled past with polite greetings.
“—here,” Ben finished, looking after the threesome.
“This is the weirdest town I’ve ever been in,” I commented.
“I’ll take you back to the Faire,” Ben said, holding out his hand for me. I took it, smiling to myself when he peeled off both sets of gloves, handing them back to me before taking my hand again.
“Will David be all right out there by himself? Well, by himself and with whatever oddballs are walking through the woods in the middle of the night in stage costumes?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder to see David waving at us before disappearing into the shadows.
“Yes. His kind prefers solitude to intense contact with mortals. Would you have really kissed him?”
My secret smile grew a lot bigger. “What do you think?”
He helped me down a gravelly incline, holding back the branches of a scraggly fir tree. “I think you were deliberately trying to bait me.”
“Then that must be the answer,” I said complacently, greatly enjoying the irritated look he shot me as he lifted me over a fallen tree. I debated pointing out that I was perfectly able to clamber over obstacles on my own, but decided to enjoy his show of masculinity.
Ten minutes later we reached a narrow dirt track. Ben’s lantern didn’t cast much light, but there was enough for me to see no bulky shape of a car. “We’re walking to the Faire?”
“No.” He tugged me after him. A few hundred yards down the track, it curved. As we rounded it, a black shadow loomed up against the darker trees. I stopped, a strange joy filling me. “Your bike! You still have it?”
“Of course. It’s a classic.” His lips quirked for a moment. “No helmets, though. Do you think your mother will be angry?”
“No doubt, but I trust you not to kill me or leave me brain dead,” I said, waiting for him to get onto the motorcycle before climbing on behind him. “At the risk of inflating your ego past bearable levels, I have to admit that I’ve often thought of the rides we took together. For some reason, they always left me . . .”
I hesitated, searching for the right word.
“Aroused?” he asked, looking back at me.
“Yes. I just didn’t realize that’s what it was.”
He grinned. I’m glad I wasn’t alone in that. The last few times, I was afraid I’d scare you off forever with the natural consequence of you riding in front of me.
Oh, I noticed you were in a very happy mood. I was flattered, to be honest. And more than a little intrigued.
He gave me an unreadable look before turning around to start the bike.
A little thrill ran through me at the combination of the motorcycle vibrating beneath me and the fact that I was plastered up against Ben’s back. “I’ve missed this.”
“As have I. If you want to drive, though, I’d prefer you wait until we get onto the road proper.”
“Hang on a second.” I wrapped my arms around him, made an unhappy noise, and slid my hands beneath the black leather jacket he’d donned. That wasn’t enough, either. Ben looked down in surprise when I yanked the front of his shirt out of his pants, slipping my hands under it to his bare stomach. The muscles there contracted as I spread my fingers out across their warmth. “Perfect. Let’s go.”
I swear I heard him mutter, “You have no idea,” but contented myself to rest my cheek against his shoulder, silky little wisps of his hair brushing against my face as he drove us through the night. I wondered if sex on a motorcycle was possible.
No, but it is on horseback if you have a very welltrained horse.
I pulled back from where I had my nose buried in his nape and pinched his belly. Stop reading my wicked thoughts about you!
He laughed in my mind, and I settled back against him, my heart and my mind, for the moment at least, at ease.
Chapter 10
The Faire was in full swing when we returned, the center aisle positively crammed with people. I could hear gasps of awe and applause coming from the main tent as Peter or Kurt and Karl did their magic acts.
“I suppose I should find Imogen and see if there’s been any word on my Vikingahärta.”
“She will no doubt be busy reading rune stones.”
“True. I suppose it’ll have to wait until later.” I stopped next to my mother’s stall, worry suddenly consuming me.
Ben, holding my hand, knew what I was thinking. His fingers tightened around mine now, offering comfort just by his touch. “Your mother is not only a woman not to be trifled with—she’s also a powerful Wiccan. I know you are worried about Loki, but I can’t see him wishing to engage in a battle with her for no reason other than to harm her.”
“Imogen said the same thing.”
“That is because Loki has no reason to harm Miranda, and every motivation to keep her safe so that he may use her to barter for the Vikingahärta.”
“That’s the only reason I could figure he’d be interested in seducing her. I mean, she’s not really his type. But what if he already has it? What if it was he who stole it?”
Ben looked thoughtful for a moment, rubbing his chin as he mulled that idea over. Such an action never failed to make my legs go wobbly. “It’s not beyond the realm of possibility that a god could control a lich, but I’ve never heard of it being done. To my mind, the lich indicates that there’s someone else involved who wanted the valknut. Just who remains unclear. Regardless, I don’t believe your mother is in physical danger.”
Despite a tiny remaining worry, I agreed with what he said. I had a feeling I’d know if something truly horrible had happened to my mother. I had known when I was little and in school and her appendix burst. Surely I would know now if she was being tortured or worse?
Ben held tightly to me as he forged a path through the dense mass of bodies. As he came up to a booth painted in black and red, he dropped my hand.
I’m going to stop in a few feet. Please slap me when I do so.
I beg your pardon?
Slap me. If I am to convince Naomi that you have some sort of a hold over me, we must give her a show.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m more than happy to slap you, but what on earth will that prove other than I’m pissed at you?
Just follow my lead. You’re hurt and angry with me, but you aren’t ready to walk away yet. All right?
I kept the thought to myself that it wouldn’t take much, if any, acting to depict those emotions, following Ben as he stalked through the crowd, his jaw set.
Yell at me.
“Will you wait for me, you great big wart on the bottom of a slug?” I shouted, running after him.
He spun around and glowered at me. I noticed from the corner of my eye that he had stopped right in front of Naomi’s booth, and that she, holding a tattoo gun, was watching us with a calculating glare. “I will not be spoken to in such a manner as that!”
I slapped him hard enough for him to feel it. He emphasized the slap by snapping his head to the side before slowly turning back to regard me with fiery eyes. “You will regret that.”
“In your dreams!” I snarled, and shoved past him to storm my way through the crowds toward the trailers.
I assumed he would return to Naomi to make the most of the scene, but was surprised to feel his presence behind me as I stomped my way to my mother’s trailer.