Ghost Light

It was strange, but I’d known Ceff’s most personal secrets before I’d even met the man himself.  And when we did meet, it was during a battle when he was at his most vulnerable.  I’d held Ceff’s fate when a pooka dropped the kelpie’s bridle into my hand.  Ceff pled for his release and I had returned his bridle, and tended his wounds while he sat dressed only in a tablecloth.  After the battle, Ceff had asked me out on a date.  Against my better judgment, the handsome thief had slipped past my defenses and stolen my heart.

I raised a gloved hand to my lips, powerless against the goofy grin spreading across my face.  Even tonight when it seemed like my entire world was crashing down, the thought of Ceff could make me smile.  Silly heart.

I bit my lip, pulled the tie from my ponytail, letting my hair fall across my shoulders, and smoothed my clothes with my hands.  I could still feel the goofy grin on my face, but it would have to do.

Ceff and I didn’t have a date scheduled for tonight, but he had posted sentinels along the waterfront.  The system was in place to keep Harborsmouth safe and to rebuild peace between the land and water fae, but Ceff’s kelpie soldiers and selkie allies would relay any message directly to his ears.  If I called out for him, he would come.

I strode to the railing, cupped my hands around my mouth, and called out Ceff’s full name.  There’s power in a name, especially for those with fae blood.  I heard an answering splash near a pylon to my right and knew my message had been received.  Now there was nothing to do but wait.

A flutter in my belly made my stomach churn.  Should I have come to the harbor?  It was selfish to take Ceff away from his duties just because I’d had a bad day.  And telling him about Melusine would only cause him pain.  I pressed my lips together, wishing I hadn’t called out for Ceff.  Wishing I could take it back.

My eyes scanned the calm waters of the harbor and the ocean waves beyond.  After what seemed an eternity, a dark form emerged.  I gasped.  I was always startled to see Ceff in his horse form.  Kelpies are Unseelie fae who can shift into human form, but their natural shape is that of a water horse.

The horse swimming toward me had a glossy coat, dappled grey like a harbor seal.  Ceff’s lustrous coat was marred by terrible scars, a parting gift from his each uisge captors.  But instead of detracting from his beauty, the scars seemed to draw the eye and show off his smooth coat and rippling muscles by contrast.  As he drew near, I could see the gill slits along Ceff’s neck move with the exertion of swimming a long distance in such a short time.  I looked into his large, dark green eyes and smiled.

He was beautiful, and he was mine.  My hands fisted and skin flushed hot at the memory of Melusine on the street today.  How dare she come into my city and threaten our happiness?

Ceff tilted his head to the side, studying my reaction.  I shook off my anger as he approached the dock.  Ceff shimmered and hands replaced hooves.  He gripped the side of the dock and pulled his, now human, body from the water.

Ceff’s water horse form was beautiful, but his human body was drop-dead gorgeous.  Even in human form, he bore the scars from his abduction by each uisge, and the subsequent battle, but those scars didn’t detract from his beauty.  Water ran down his chest, though his dress slacks appeared dry; just another peculiarity of fae magic.

I looked up from his chest—I was looking at the scars, really—and into his eyes.  Ceff’s eyes were the one thing that remained unchanged when he shifted, large, midnight green pools in a handsome, otherwise human, face.

Ceff winked and I blushed, heat rising to my cheeks.

“Did you miss me already?” he asked.

His voice was like a burbling stream sliding across stones worn smooth with time.  It made things churn and heat low in my belly.  He started to reach toward me, responding to the heat rising between us.  I flinched and took an involuntary step back.

“Sorry,” I said, sounding breathless.

I bit my lip.  The apology was automatic, though heartfelt.  I did feel guilty about my touch phobia—god knows I wanted to run my hands over his chest and fingers through his wet hair—but I’d nearly lost my sanity while touching his bridle.  I didn’t know what would happen if I touched the man himself.

Immortals tend to accumulate painful memories in their long lives, and Ceff had experienced more loss and terror than most.  Part of me wanted to reach out and share all of that with him, but most of me was a sniveling mess, rocking and shaking in the back of my mind.  I wasn’t prepared, not yet.

Thankfully, Ceff was patient.

“Do not apologize,” he said, lips quirking upward.  “We have all eternity.”

That sounded like a promise.