Author's Note: Time for Cernunnos to get to know his huntsmen!
Song for this Chapter: Heaven on Hold by Bryce Fox. Everyone is beginning to feel the tension, I think....
Dru steadied the stock of the crossbow against her left shoulder and braced the bow along her left arm. She peered down the scope. The bullseye was fixed steadily in the site.
"I love how you hold that bow like you've done this before," Hearne growled in her ear from behind. "Spread your stance, it will help steady your aim," He rotated her hips and pressed her left leg a little forward with his long thigh. Then he stepped back. "Show me how you shoot, baby," he whispered.
She pressed the safety forward like he taught her, took aim, and squeezed the release mechanism.
She hit the bullseye and the group of men behind her crowed in approval. Hearne made a sound of deep satisfaction and strolled away.
"Let her go again," he commanded to no one in particular, to all of them, leaving it to the men to instruct her as he joined the pagan class at the lower end of the range.
"You're a natural," Martin Buchanan noted as he handed Dru another bolt, and guided her in loading it.
"Heck, yeah she is. Dru, you can be my partner at the hunt, if you want." Tyler Bratcher said.
Tyler was a Mystic Mountainer, in his mid-twenties, who worked for Martin and his partner running the sales and marketing for the small shine distillery. Tyler, like the other Mystic Mountain men and the pagan class, were becoming regular fixtures at camp, training for the hunt, and helping get the cabins ready for the high dollar contributors already registered for the fundraiser. This was a typical Saturday at Hearne's camp now—a packful of jovial followers.
Tyler was more than jovial, however. He was also a very handsome guy...tall, strong-jawed, and powerfully built. He reminded her of Sean, but lighter in looks, stronger in Southern accent, and much cockier in attitude.
Damn, was it the magic, or something in the spring water that grew these Mystic Mountain boys so good? Even Leander was looking very handsome lately. Maybe it was Cernunnos, lending his men some confidence or energy that made them so attractive.
There was one follower who had changed more than the rest though. Sean. He looked every inch of the sexwitch he was now—a chin length mop of dark hair that looked perfectly messy, a permanent sexy stubble, lips always barely parted, like they wanted to be sucking something naughty—a pipe, perhaps some part of Carrie's body—and a constant hazy look of come-fuck-me in his eyes. Or maybe the hazy look in his eyes was the weed. Either way, he looked incredible all the time.
Dru shot a casual glance over to him. The class had gathered around to watch him shoot a series of miniscule targets with a traditional compound bow. He certainly looked like a god already, or maybe a superhero, his legs spread confidently, his posture perfect, as he pulled the arrows from his quiver quickly, shooting in rapid series, obliterating the beer cans and apples Leander had set up.
Reese and Isabel were watching him. Reese was twirling her hair. Isabel was biting her lip. Hell, even Susan was watching him with a speculative expression, much to Grace's displeasure. Lana was rolling her eyes and nudging Grace, making a gagging face behind Sean's back.
Sean wasn't aware of any of the female interest. He was intent on his task. He went ten for ten—four more targets than anyone else had made in a fraction of the time.
"Fucking boy scout." Hearne said, and clapped him on the back.
The class laughed as Sean stepped back and gestured for Lana and Susan to step up to the shooting line while he reset the targets.
Dru had forgotten about Tyler entirely, but he was still talking to her.
"I mean it, girl," Tyler drawled. "Hearne will take point on the hunt with the most skilled bowmen. With Martin and Billy and Sean. I don't mind hanging back with you. Actually," he grinned, looking her up and down. "I wouldn't mind hanging out with you, anywhere."
Dru blushed a little as she lowered her attention to loading the crossbow. It was evident that Tyler's admiration wasn't for her hunting skills, which were nonexistent.
The blush to her cheeks was all it took. Hearne smelled her heated blood and he was between them in a second.
"Bratcher, I think you've forgotten two important things here."
Tyler put on his best good ole boy and grinned cockily. "Yeah, and what would those things be, Hearne?"
"First, I can tear your arms off like you can rip open a bag of chips. Secondly, this is my—" he looked at Dru and his mouth worked. Dru saw what he wanted to say on his face. This is my woman. But he modified at the last second. "My fiancee." His voice was mild, but his horns became suddenly visible on his head and his eyes and tats streamed green godlight.
Dru snorted. Carrie was right. He was trying to be a modern man, but underneath, he was still a feral beast, who didn't even want another man talking to his woman.
Tyler's chest deflated a little. He hadn't been at the party to see Hearne in his full glory. "Yeah, I guess I kinda did."
Martin slung a hand around Tyler's shoulders, and handed him a crossbow. "Come on, boy. This is target practice, not open season on engaged witches," he winked at Dru and she smiled at him.
But she gave Hearne a dark look for his territorialism. He rolled his eyes at her. "Get used to it. You're mine," he said mirthfully, standing back with arms crossed to watch her shoot again.
As she aimed, she said, "I'm just wondering...did you keep Carrie locked in a tower?"
"There weren't many towers, until about a thousand years ago," Carrie's twinkling voice said. Dru didn't turn around, but she could tell from the sounds Hearne made that Carrie had tugged on his braids, and offered him a mug of something that he swallowed heavily.
"Why didn't you ever teach me to shoot?" Carrie asked him sharply.
"You're too small to draw the kinds of bows we had back then," he replied automatically.
"Surely you could have made a smaller bow..."
"Fine, the truth is I thought you had no business with a bow, when you had me to hunt for you. I was a chauvinist, back then."
"And you're such a feminist, now?" Carrie said dryly.
"Dru has a bow in her hand, does she not?" Hearne laughed.
"If you want to shoot, I'll teach you, Goddess," Sean's voice rang out as he approached. His voice was full of Witchtimbre. Dru twitched. His one sentence uttered with Witchtimbre was much more distracting than Hearne and Carrie's "friendly" banter.
"Oh, I don't know, I'm not planning to hunt," Carrie said a little uncertainly.
"It's still fun to practice," Sean encouraged with the damn voice.
Dru swung around with the bow, her finger still on the trigger.
"I'm trying to concentrate, here," she snapped at Sean.
"Whoa." He glared at her and quickly pushed her loaded bow toward the ground. "And I'm trying to stave alive, here. That's a deadly weapon; don't shoot me by accident."
It was the first time he'd spoken directly to her, even looked directly at her, in the month since Ostara.
Suddenly she felt like going a little Druantia on Sean. "Who said it would be an accident?"
He tapped his chest, above his heart. "So you wanna finish the job you started, huh?"
She sighed. She hated the way he looked at her now, with such...animosity.
"No, of course not." She put the safety on the weapon. "I'm sorry I was careless."
There was an uncomfortable silence. All over the camp. Everyone had stopped what they were doing, watching the exchange between Sean and Dru. Hearne and Carrie watched them with identical calculating expressions. Hearne shot Carrie a look. A silent godly exchange took place. Carrie nodded with tight lips and looked away.
"Faraday, you don't need the target practice, and Dru needs to head down to Asheville to pick up some supplies for a side-project she's come up with, for the hunt. Why don't you go with her?"
Dru looked at Hearne, surprised. The last thing she ever thought Hearne would do was put her in a one on one situation with Sean. What did he mean by that? He was supposed to be keeping them apart, keeping Sean safe from her, not throwing them uncomfortably together. "But I need the target practice," she objected.
"You can practice later."
"The hunt is only two weeks away."
Hearne laughed. "You're not hunting at Beltane," he said flatly.
Now Dru had a whole new reason for being irritated with Hearne. She furrowed her brows at him. "But I want to. It's a huge deal for you," she gestured around to the three dozen people Hearne had recruited as part of the home team Huntsmen. "I want to be a part of that."
He laughed, a look of complete astonishment on his face. "Do you know how dangerous wild boar are, Dru? Do you know how much of my attention it would take to ensure your safety? No, it's out of the question."
"So you just get to decide what I can and can't do?" She hissed. Carrie smirked, trying not to laugh. Sean looked highly uncomfortable, but she ignored them both as she advanced on Hearne.
"Yes, I do," he said calmly, taking her left hand and fingering her ring. "This witch accepts your ring and returns my promise, Lord Cernunnos. I surrender my mortal existence into your care, until I surrender my soul into your making, on the Beltane after your horns and our Greenspark arise." He quoted her covenant exactly, word for word. "Remember saying that?" He stepped close and whispered in her ear, "Remember sealing that?"
He was reminding her of the lovemaking that had followed her promise. He had done something to her soul with that sex, sealing her vow, binding her closer to him than ever. He tugged at her will now, reminding her how much more powerful his was.
She made a sound of exasperation and shoved the crossbow at him, "I hate you," she muttered, as she stomped up toward the lodge.
"No, you don't," he called cheerfully after her.
She didn't, of course she didn't, but she didn't turn around and smile at him. She made her way to the deck of the lodge, and poured herself a lemonade from the refreshment table. She watched Sean, Carrie and Hearne in conversation. Sean glanced up at the deck twice, shaking his head. He didn't want to go to Asheville with Dru, anymore than she wanted to go with him. Hearne spoke mostly to Carrie, and finally she sighed, and nodded, and put a hand on Sean's arm, and said something. He rolled his eyes and stomped up the path, just like Dru had done.
He joined her on the deck, pouring his own drink. "Gods are stupid, huh?"
"Yeah."
"She compel you to take me to Asheville?"
"No," he admitted begrudgingly, "but she probably would have, if I hadn't agreed. They think we need to work some stuff out. Hearne says our energy is distracting to the...people," he gestured at the crowd of Mystic Mountainers and pagan students. "And Carrie always does exactly whatever that fucker suggests she does."
"Except take him back," Dru noted.
"Except that," Sean agreed.
They watched Hearne and Carrie together. It looked like they were talking about the Mystic Mountain men. Hearne was gesturing to them, and Carrie was nodding, or sometimes shaking her head, pointing at them as she talked. Hearne wasn't even aware that he was touching Carrie as they talked...her back, her arm, once even touching her face. Carrie unconsciously drew her arm through his. Dru narrowed her eyes, noting that Carrie looked suddenly...different. Her glamour had shifted slightly. Her coppery mane looked wilder, and her nose was spattered with freckles. The Lord and Lady were getting more and more comfortable with each other, now that they had a common cause and spoke daily of things beyond their bitter history.
"It sucks playing second fiddle to a professional," Dru said dryly.
Sean laughed...really laughed. His laughter was infectious, and Dru found herself smiling at him.
When he finally stopped laughing, he took a long drink of lemonade. "I forgot how funny your one-liners are," he said quietly.
Dru pressed her lips tightly. She hadn't forgotten anything, not really. She couldn't tell him that, though. "I guess we better go," she gestured at Sean's jeep.
"Where are we going?" Sean asked.
"To the military surplus store," Dru said.
He raised his eyebrows, and his voice was thick with Witchtimbre. "There are lot of very interesting items there."
Sean's eyes darkened to near black. She'd never seen them like that before, but she's seen Angus Og's eyes darken in much more intimate circumstances. She stepped away from Sean. "Get a grip, sexwitch," she said tolerantly. "The hardware store probably has a better selection. We need to stop by there, too, but only if you can behave."
"Easier said than done," he said calmly.
"Not really. Don't you have a prescription for that?"
"Yeah. How do you feel about that?"
She shrugged. "It's not my business what you do, is it?"
"No," he smiled. "I meant in principle."
"A little green is okay. I have no right to judge, considering the drugs I used to take."
"When you were a Druid?"
She smiled. "Then, and when I was sixteen in this life, Sean. I've tried to tell you over and over, I'm no innocent. You just never heard me. It's why we couldn't work. I'm far too...bad for a guy trying to keep his dark desires in check. You need a good, sweet girl you can worship to keep you straight, sexwitch. A girl like Carrie. She's twelve thousand years old, but underneath, she's a much sweeter girl than me, isn't she?"
He sighed in resignation. "You better tell me about this project on the way. I'll need a couple of hits and the conversational distraction."
A/N: Hmmmm, what do you think? Can Sean and Dru become friends like Cernunnos and Cerridwen? Don't forget to vote if you are looking forward to Beltane! Thanks!