The Arrow (Children of Brigid Trilogy Book 1) by Maureen O'Leary Read Free Book Online Page B

her family and she’d made a necklace of them for Komo to wear. Stringing the blooms together made her late and she ran the last stretch of the path straight into the amphitheater - only to find Komo on the stage straddled by a girl from their art history class, his pants around his thighs, the girl moaning.
    The windflowers fell from Fynn’s hand. Her boot heels crushed the wilted petals as she disappeared into the forest like an ugly demon-tainted thing that, of course, Komo didn’t love. It didn’t matter what they shared or the things they knew that no one else understood. He was the child of a god. He could have anyone he wanted.
    Of course he didn’t love her.
    The girl’s laughter and cries of ecstasy echoed through the cathedral of trees as Fynn turned and ran.
    Komo’s voice swept the memory Fynn had of being a plain girl with strange blood, running away alone, with no one caring enough to chase her anymore. Under Komo’s spell, she could only remember long nights of surfing under the moonlight and then stretching her body beneath his hands in the meadow, his calloused fingers playing music across her skin.
    ***
    Fynn stood breathless at the lip of the empty stage. He had to come out again. There had to be an encore because it was impossible that the show was over. He couldn’t be gone. The lights had been up for ten minutes, but the audience milled around like sleepwalkers refusing to wake up from a beautiful dream.
    A woman who looked like an Amazon Tinker Bell in a pinstripe suit appeared beside Fynn, tugging her arm. “Komo wants you,” she said. “Will you come with me?” She wasn’t really asking. She pinched Fynn’s elbow, pushing through the sloshing drinks and confusion of the crowd. Fynn thought Cara followed, until they slipped through a side door into a dark hall.
    “I’ll go back for your friend,” the woman said. She shoved on a heavy door that opened into an alley. A black limousine idled with its door open, puffing exhaust into the night air.
    The cries of fans echoed down the long passage. Komo’s name bounced off the walls.
    “Hurry, Fynn.” It was Komo in the back. “Get in before they see you.” His voice was jagged. She wondered just how aggressive his fan base could get. They sounded out of their minds. She climbed in the car.
    “Go,” Komo ordered. As soon as the woman slammed the door, the car lurched forward. Fynn fell onto Komo, clutching the soft worn cotton of his t-shirt. His strong hands braced her shoulders.
    “Careful,” he said.
    The driver veered right to avoid a cluster of fans spilling off the sidewalk. Fynn fell across Komo’s lap. He started to sing. The music rumbled in his chest.
    “You are my goddess little fire girl . . .”
    Fynn slammed herself back into the seat across from him. He wouldn’t get by so easy with her. She wasn’t one of the adoring masses. They had too much of a past for that. “Where have you been? I thought you were dead.”
    “It’s nice to see you, too,” he said. His dark honey-colored eyes crinkled at the edges. He handed over an open bottle of wine. She took a long drink before setting it down. Komo always had the best. The heat of the wine eased her stomach. She rested her head against the seat to savor the taste.
    He looked the same as always, sprawled in the back of the outsized limo. The space too narrow for his arms and legs. He smiled like she was the one doing him a favor just by letting him watch her drink.
    “You cause a serious scene,” she said, clearing her throat. “People were going crazy.” She wondered about Cara. She should not have left her back at the club alone.
    “Your friend is going to the same place we are,” Komo said. “That lady in the suit is my manager, Cate. She’s taking care of everything. You don’t have to worry.”
    “I hate it when you do that,” Fynn said. The years fell away like nothing. “Seriously. I hate it.”
    “I was just answering your question.”
    “One I