Leana

The Leanan Sidhe has lived for centuries, inspiring artists while draining their life force in return. It’s who she is, all she’s ever known. While she loves human artistic creativity, she cares nothing for her victims.

Conall lives a complicated life, but he loves what he does. By day, he’s a humble farmer, by night he’s hunter, searching for the dark creatures that plague Ireland. He is also an artist who often escapes to the local village to paint portraits in the small marketplace.

For Leana, Conall is just another victim. And yet, from the moment she meets him in the marketplace, she can’t seem to get him out of her mind, let alone end his life like she has so many others before. While they both see their growing attraction, they know that they can never be with the other and survive.

The Leanan Sidhe has lived for centuries, inspiring artists while draining their life force in return. It’s who she is, all she’s ever known. While she loves human artistic creativity, she cares nothing for her victims.

Conall lives a complicated life, but he loves what he does. By day, he’s a humble farmer, by night he’s hunter, searching for the dark creatures that plague Ireland. He is also an artist who often escapes to the local village to paint portraits in the small marketplace.

For Leana, Conall is just another victim. And yet, from the moment she meets him in the marketplace, she can’t seem to get him out of her mind, let alone end his life like she has so many others before. While they both see their growing attraction, they know that they can never be with the other and survive.

 Leana
stood and left the lake, already forgetting about the man she’d drained of life moments before. He had been kind, and his music rivaled that of some of the best musicians in the history of Ireland. But he had served his purpose, and it was time to move on.

Her thick red hair blew into her face from the winds of the oncoming storm. It was time to go back to the barrows. If she stayed too long, people would begin to question.

His final moments flashed through her mind, begging for her to help him. But he was already beyond help by that point. The moment he had agreed to court her, he had sealed his fate. The thought made Leana pause, something that had never
happened before. He was among countless others that she’d drained, and yet it was the first time she’d almost felt . . . regret.

She squared her shoulders and pushed away the strange human emotion. She was the Leanan Sidhe. It was her duty to provide the inspiration for music, art, and literature that would be remembered for years to come. She had done it for centuries, and would
for centuries more.

“Leana? Is that you?” The old woman stood at the doorway. “Come in, or you’ll catch your death of cold.”

Leana put her arm around the old woman and guided her back into the barrow. “’Tis you I worry about, Mam.”

Because of who she was, Leana had to move often so that angry villagers couldn’t find her. When she chose this home, it was already occupied. Leana knew that Fiona didn’t
have much time left on this earth and her memory was poor, so Leana had come as Fiona’s long-lost daughter.

“Did you find what you were looking for, dearie?” Fiona dished out some stew and set it on the table in front of Leana.

“Yes, I did, thank you.” Leana took a bite, even though she didn’t need the nourishment. If Fiona suspected anything, Leana would be forced to leave, and this part of the
country was rich in young artists trying to make their way in the world. “This stew is wonderful.”

Fiona beamed. “Oh, I am so glad. I will be going to the market tomorrow. Would you like to come with me?”

Leana hesitated. She detested being around humans for long periods of time, but now that the young man was gone, she’d need someone new to feed on. “All right. I may leave early if the storms come in.”

“Of, course, dearie.” Fiona slumped over on her chair. She’d fallen asleep again.

Leana frowned in disgust. Humans. They were so weak. She still had her beauty after centuries while humans only had theirs for a few decades. It was said that if she didn’t
feed on the souls of artists, she would also fade and grow old, but Leana wasn’t about to test the theory.

She led Fiona into her bed and pulled the covers up, allowing the woman to have comfort for the few days she had left. In three days she would leave the earth and Leana would be alone. It was strange to feel responsible for a human, but then no
other human had ever cared for her when they weren’t under her spell.

***

Leana grew
impatient as Fiona stopped again in the middle of the trail, trying to catch
her breath. Leana had offered to pull the cart, but Fiona insisted on doing it herself. She swore that it kept her young, which was obviously not the case.

The market was loud, and young children ran through the street. Leana’s skin crawled at the
thought of the germs and filth that ran rampant in the village. She wanted nothing more than to flee. But the call for another soul was strong, and she knew she needed to stay. Her body was already starting to weaken from her meal
the night before.

While Fiona took her time setting up the vases and other pottery she’d made, Leana made her way through the market. The sooner she could find her next mate, the sooner she
could leave this place.

The artists usually took their places across from the square so they could use the market as their inspiration. Leana shook her head. They would never learn true inspiration until she had hold of them.

Most of the artists that morning were older, trying to make ends meet. She skirted past them toward the younger men. The stronger they were, the longer they would feed
her. They also tended to ask fewer questions as they got weaker.

There. In the back of the artists sat a young man with curly auburn hair and piercing green eyes. His strokes were sure as he painted the buildings across from him. While the others talked and laughed together, he continued to work.

Leana smoothed her dress and ran her fingers through her hair, making sure his first impression of her was perfection. She strode toward him, swaying her hips seductively. If she could get his attention from the beginning, it made everything else easier. She hated having to convince him that she was the only one he’d ever need. It took more of her essence to finally make them succumb to
her.

The other
artists didn’t look up as she passed by. She was invisible to everyone but the man she had in her sights. It didn’t stop her from brushing her fingers across the others’ cheeks or whispering words into their ears. Always promising them that there was something else out there for them.

They sat up straight and looked around, dazed and wanting more. But they wouldn’t get it until she was done with her current victim. This just ensured her that she would have others to come back to later.

It wasn’t until she stood by his easel that the man finally glanced up at her. His eyes were even more beautiful than they’d first appeared, and Leana’s breath caught. She had
never seen his like.

“Excuse me, lass, but you’re blocking my view.” His gaze burned into her, and she stumbled out of the way.

“Sorry, I just . . .  wanted to see what you were painting.” She touched his shoulder, but the usual side effects of her releasing her magic on him—a sudden intake of breath, a slightly dazed expression—was absent. Who was this man?

He gestured toward the market. “I am just trying to capture humanity in all its glory. From the rich merchants to the poor villagers who simply walk through, wishing they
could afford the wares.”