The Faceless Woman by Emma Hamm (i love reading .txt) 📕

crouched and placed a hand on the cat’s soft fur. “But I appreciate the help.”

“You must take her with you, wherever you plan on going. The villagers will try to burn her again.”

“And our lives are tied together,” he said with a sigh. “A binding curse neither of us can seemingly break.”

“Despite what you may think, she is gifted in the magical arts. If the curse could be easily broken, she would have managed just fine.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” He didn’t want to bring the girl. She would distract him as much as he was loath to admit it. She was a puzzle he didn’t know how to solve.

That was the only reason he was interested, Bran told himself. It was nothing to do with the milky pale skin of her legs, softer than velvet, and the way her muscles had tensed under the stroke of his fingers as he healed her.

His own thighs burned in response. It was their binding, an answering ache he felt because she was feeling it. That was the only reason he was thinking of touching her again.

Bran refused to believe it was anything else.

“If we must travel as companions, then we shall.” He met Lorcan’s gaze and ground his teeth together. “Now, the question is if she will agree.”

“If I will agree to what?” Her voice cut through the darkness and shattered his mood.

Frowning, he straightened his shoulders in anticipation of yet another argument. “I know of another way to break the binding curse, but you will need to help me first.”

“A smart man would try the other way around. Break the curse so my death won’t affect you, and then ask for payment afterwards.”

“Does everything have to be an argument with you?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Not everything, but you make it so easy.”

Traveling with this wench would be harder than he thought. Bran recognized wickedness when he saw it, along with mirth dancing just under the surface as she widened her stance and crossed her arms over her chest. He heard her quiet huff of breath, and though it likely she was holding in laughter.

She wanted to make this a challenge for him. She enjoyed the annoyances she caused and wanted it to be difficult.

The girl expected him to give in.

He narrowed his eyes like a bird of prey homing in on a mouse. “Do you want the binding curse to remain intact?”

“I’d rather break all ties with you now.”

“Good. I know the way to do it, but you have to help me first. Which means we both have to keep each other alive. Think you can do that?”

She recognized the challenge in his voice. Her shoulders squared, and she did her best to look down her nose at him. “As long as you stay out of trouble, I’m sure it will be an easy enough task.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about myself. What we’re going to do is not for the faint of heart.”

“Out with it then. What are we doing that is so dangerous?”

Bran sent her a wicked grin. “First, we need the blood of a dead god.”

A Journey Begins

“The blood of a dead god?” Aisling asked for the tenth time. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

She hadn’t wanted to go with the Unseelie, but Lorcan could be convincing when he wanted to be. The cat sidhe had yowled directly in her ear for an entire night in the forest before she gave in and agreed she would entertain the idea.

They had traveled for a few days across dale and glen. They passed by clusters of sheep so white they blinded her eyes and others so dirty they blended into the countryside.

She hefted the small pack the faerie had given her with their provisions. The Unseelie did not carry a single thing. Instead, he sauntered ahead of her with his hands in his pockets, whistling and pretending he didn’t hear her asking questions.

“Unseelie,” she growled, “I won't stop until you explain.”

“I think it explains itself.”

“It most certainly does not. How are we supposed to get this blood? How is there blood left in a dead body? Are we killing the god first and then gathering its blood? There’s a thousand and one questions, and you aren’t answering any of them.”

“We’ll figure it out when we get there.”

She jerked to a halt and stared incredulously at his back. “That’s your plan?”

“I haven’t had any issues with it yet.”

“Because we haven’t gotten there!”

“At which point, I’ll figure it out. There, you see? The plan hasn’t changed even after we argued about it.”

Blasted man. Had he no interest in keeping himself alive? She stared at his silhouette and wondered if he would burst into hundreds of ravens and disappear at any moment. The man obviously had a death wish or was sent by the Tuatha de Danann to plague her.

Any moment she would wake up attached to that tree again with the flames burning her knees. The villagers would yell at her, she would realize she wasn’t on an adventure with a mysterious faerie, and this was just a fever dream.

Aisling pinched her arm hard.

When the green rolling pastures didn’t fade away, she huffed out a disappointed breath. She wasn’t certain whether she preferred certain death by fire or uncertain death with an Unseelie who hated plans.

The grass parted in a wave rushing toward her at full speed. Just before the rustling line reached them, Lorcan bounded up into the air. His ears flopped against his skull as he bounced. “I think I might have found a portal,” he called out.

The Unseelie grinned. “Good! Lead the way then, sidhe.”

That smile was as dark as midnight and just as mysterious. Aisling pressed a hand against her chest, suddenly uncomfortable. He was almost too pretty when he did that.

Shaking her head to clear it of the ridiculous thoughts, she hurried to catch up with the two faeries. “Wait a minute, portal?”

“We need to get into the home of my