Faery Princess

Chapter Two: Casey

There she was, innocently doing her laundry, listening to music, when she felt a weird sensation in the air. She'd ignored it at first, but as it niggled at her, she finally gave in and turned around. She'd almost screamed when she saw a group of...nine people at the back of the Laundromat; she'd thought she'd been alone.

She couldn't help but stare at them. They were all tall and beautiful, and obviously wet. She could make out two women among the group. They all wore weapons of some kind – swords, bows, even a mace! Casey wondered if they'd been to some convention or medieval fare.

As they started to undress, the inclination to turn away became a distant memory. They laid their weapons on the bench and their clothes were tossed in the dryer. They all stood there. Absolutely naked! Just chatting like it was totally normal. Their bodies were trim and muscular; she had a hard time pulling her gaze away from the men, though the women were stunning too.

Then, laughing, one turned to look at her. The way his ice blue eyes contrasted with his black hair shocked her. Damn, but he was beautiful, all pale skin and rippling muscles, his chest wide. He was all power and she had an image of the things he'd be able to do to her. She felt her face rush with heat and looked away, determined to finish her laundry and make a break for it.

She kept her gaze heavily focussed on the two machines she was using. She'd only just put them on wash so had no doubt her loads would take longer than theirs. She silently hoped they'd just leave her in peace. She didn't care what they chose to get up to late on a Thursday night, as long as they kept her out of it.

Casey's head snapped around quickly as she felt one of them brush past her. A tingle had rushed through her at his closeness, but she felt it wasn't just because he was sexy as hell. As he turned back to look at her, she just had time to see a strange glint in his pale blue eyes before he smiled and followed his friends. She felt something like a mental tug and looked outside the window. A man with long blonde hair was laughing animatedly. Her insides clenched at the beauty in his face. Must have been some kind of sexiest people convention.

When they were gone, Casey breathed out heavily and leant back on the counter, pulling off her headphones. Trust her to come face-to-face with the sexiest man – let's be honest, men – she'd ever seen while wearing her daggiest track pants and sweater. That would serve her right for putting off the laundry until she was out of clothes, and for not getting a new washer when the old one broke. God, those eyes, though. For the moment he'd looked back at her with that crooked smile, she'd felt like he was looking right into her soul.

The machines beeped and she moved her clothes to the dryer. She contemplated taking them home and putting them in her machine, but she didn't feel like carrying two loads of wet washing three blocks. As the clothes dried, she fidgeted nervously, haunted by that one glimpse of ice blue eyes.

"Stop being ridiculous." She told herself.

After what felt like an absolute age, the clothes were dry. She bundled them up and shoved them in her duffle bag. It wasn't the most glamorous way of doing laundry, and she vowed – not for the first time – that she'd buy a new washer that weekend.

She pulled on her coat, put her headphones back on, slung the duffle over her shoulder and headed out the door. The wind was freezing; she was surprised it hadn't snowed yet. It would be a white Christmas this year.

Pulling her coat around her and shoving her hands in her pockets, she turned for home. She hummed along to Everything Little Thing She Does is Magic as she walked, tucking her chin into her collar and watching the ground in front of her.

Suddenly, she was knocked sideways, landing on her butt as a shadowy figure ran passed. She said a silent thank you that she'd landed on her bag and done no lasting damage. She looked around, but saw no sign of the douche bag who'd knocked her over as they'd run out of the darkened alley. She sighed, pushing herself up quickly, not wanting to have to touch the freezing pavement longer than necessary. Just as she got her footing, more figures rushed out of the alley, pushing passed her with no sense of propriety, tingles shooting through her at their touch. She yelled and felt herself falling again.

This time, though, a strong hand grabbed hers and pulled her back to her feet. It was covered with fingerless leather gloves, but where their skin touched, heat blazed. She looked up into a pair of blue eyes, already strangely familiar as if she hadn't just seen them for the first time. She knew she wasn't that short, standing as she did at about 5'6", so he must have been over 6'; her eyes were barely level with his nose.

She realised he was speaking and pulled her headphones off.

"Sorry, what?" she asked, pointing to them.

He looked at her strangely, as though he'd never seen headphones before in his life. "I was just asking if you were all right." He replied.

Not only was he gorgeous, he had an Irish accent. Casey felt herself melt a little, then told herself to pull it together.

"Hurry up!" she heard a yell behind her.

She turned and saw the man with long blond hair, hovering as though they were on some urgent life or death business. She felt a finger on her jaw, accompanied by a warm tingle that made her crave more, and he turned her back to look at him. His touch was caressing and tender. His black hair was long enough to cover the top of his ears and hang just past his eyebrows. Those incredibly ice blue eyes were rimmed in thick dark lashes that made her fight her tongue from licking her lip.

She saw him blink in surprise. Then the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk and she tried to dampen the desire flooding through her at the sight. But, the only successful dampening happened in her panties and she scowled.

"Are you hurt?" he asked again.

"I'm fine." She pulled her head from his reach and turning around again. "You're friends are waiting."

She heard him say something.

She whipped her head back. "What?"

"My name. Declan." He flashed her a winning smile and she felt her insides clench.

"Pleasure." She looked around again. "Have a good night...with whatever you're doing." She started walking away.

"Let's go!" the blond man called.

"Hold up, Eoin! You didn't tell me your name." he called. Something in his tone made her smile.

"No, I didn't." she called back, not turning around.

She heard a laugh. At the corner, she turned, but the street was empty. In the distance, she heard a howl that made her shudder. She huddled deeper into her coat and hurried home.