He ran his hands over his chest, searching the skin. "It's healed. I did not do this." He came to the edge of the bed. "Your arms."
I looked down and saw the claw marks were gone. My arms were healed. I ran my hands over my thighs, and they weren't healed. The nail marks, filled with their small bits of blood; the red marks of his teeth; the press of his mouth that had brought a red stain to my thigh where the wound had been. "Why is everything else healed but these marks?"
He shook his head. "I don't know."
I stared up at him. "You said that my initiation into power healed Roane, but what if it's not just that first flush of power. What if it's part of my newfound magic?"
I watched him try to make sense of it. "It could be, but healing by sex is not a gift of the Unseelie Court."
"It is of the Seelie Court," I said.
"You are of their bloodline," he said softly. "I must tell the queen."
"Tell her what?" I asked.
"Everything."
I crawled forward on the bed, still half-naked, reaching for him. He moved out of reach, clutching at the wall as if I'd threatened him. "No, Meredith, no more. The queen may forgive us because it was accidental, and she will be pleased that you have more powers. It may save us, but if you touch me again..." He shook his head. "She will not have pity on us if we come together again this night."
"I was just going to touch your arm, Doyle. I think we should talk before you go tattling to the queen."
He moved back to the edge of the wall, just before it turned the corner out of sight. "I have just had the first release in more centuries that you can imagine and you sit there like that..." He shook his head again. "You would just touch my arm, but my self-control is not limitless-we've proven that already. No, Meredith, one touch, and I might fall upon you and do what I've been wanting to do since I saw your br**sts trembling above me."
"I can get dressed," I said.
"That would be good," he said, "but I am still going to tell her what happened."
"What does she do-take a sperm count? We didn't have sex. Why tell her?"
"She is the Queen of Air and Darkness; she will know. If we do not confess it, and then she finds out, the punishment will be a thousand times worse."
"Punishment? It was an accident."
"I know, and that may save us."
"You are not seriously saying that she will invoke the same penalty for this as if we had made deliberate love?"
"Death by torture," he said. "I hope not, but she is within her rights to call for it."
I shook my head. "No, she would not lose you after a thousand years for an accident."
"I hope not, Princess, I truly hope not." He started around the corner toward the bathroom.
"Doyle," I called.
He came back around the corner. "Yes, Princess?"
"If she tells you that we're going to be executed for this, there is one bright spot."
He put his head to one side in a birdlike movement, "And that would be?"
"We can have sex, real sex, flesh into flesh. If we're going to be executed for something, we might as well be guilty of it."
Emotions chased across his face-again I couldn't read them-then finally a smile. "I never thought I could face my queen with this news and have a divided mind on what I want her to say. You are a tempting thing, Meredith, a thing that a man might trade his life for."
"I don't want your life, Doyle, just your body."
That sent him laughing into the bathroom, which was better than crying. I had the nightshirt back on and was tucked under the covers by the time he came back out. He was solemn-faced, but said, "We are not going to be punished. Though she has made some hint that she would like to see you heal with this newfound power."
"I don't do her little public sex shows," I said.
"I know that, and so does she, but she is curious about it."
"Let her be curious. So we aren't going to be executed, either of us?"
"No," he said.
"Why don't you look happier?" I asked.
"I didn't bring a change of clothes."
It took me a second to realize what he meant. I dug him out a pair of men's silk boxers. They were a little snug through the hips, because he and Roane were not really the same size, but they would fit.
He took the boxers and went back into the bathroom. I thought he'd be quick and come back out to sleep, but I heard the shower turn on. I finally tossed down some pillows on top of the sleeping bags and turned over to try and sleep. I wasn't sure I would be able to sleep, but Doyle stayed in the bathroom a long time. The last thing I heard before sleep rolled over me was the sound of the blow dryer. I never heard him come out of the bathroom. I simply woke up the next day and he was standing over me with hot tea in one hand and our plane tickets in the other. I didn't know if Doyle had used the sleeping bags, or if he slept at all.
Chapter 19
DOYLE GRACIOUSLY LET ME TAKE THE WINDOW SEAT. HE SAT VERY straight in his chair, hands in a death grip on the arms, seat belt buckled. He closed his eyes when the plane took off. Normally, I like watching the ground get farther away, but today watching Doyle turn grey around the edges was much more fun.
"How can you possibly be afraid of flying?" I asked.
He kept his eyes closed, but answered me. "I am not afraid of flying. I am afraid of flying in airplanes." His voice sounded very reasonable, as if it all made perfect sense.
"So you could ride a flying steed and not be afraid?"