“That is correct, Madam.” The man or elf or whatever the hell he was said to Nana, agreeing with her statement. “For the length of this trial, I will be your ‘very own elf’ as you put it.” He had a very slight accent that was almost British and he bowed as he spoke to their grandmother, making her preen with delight.
“Cass,” Phil murmured discretely. “Elves are kind of the white collar class of the Realm of Fae. The executives, the doctors and lawyers and bankers—the people that get things done. Basically he’s saying he’s our attorney.”
Jacobin O’Shea threw Phil an approving glace over one broad shoulder before looking back at Cass. “Your sister is also correct but it extends farther than that. Because you don’t have enough fairy blood to look out for your own interests, during these proceedings I will be both your representative and your guardian in the Realm. As I said, I am your court-appointed elf.”
Cass stared at him blankly. “Well you sure as hell don’t look like any elf I ever heard of,” she said, frowning.
He didn’t, either. When she thought of elves, it was usually Santa’s tiny, jolly, red-cheeked helpers that came to mind. That or the pale, blond, androgynously gorgeous elves from the Lord of the Rings movies. But Jacobin O’Shea wasn’t red-cheeked or jolly and he certainly wasn’t tiny. And as for androgynous, well, Cass couldn’t imagine anyone less asexual than the tall man in front of her.
Look up ‘male’ in the dictionary and I’d probably see his picture staring back at me, she thought. The only thing even remotely elfin about him, as far as she could see, were the tips of his ears which were ever so slightly pointed.
“I had heard that you humans had some strange misconceptions about my people. I suppose you were expecting a tiny, amusing imp or some pale angelic being come to guide you through the Realm,” Jacobin O’Shea rumbled, raising one black eyebrow and returning her frown with a frown of his own. “But I assure you, Miss Swann, that I am neither easily amused nor amusing and my temper is anything but angelic. So I suggest you come along to the hearing now with your grandmother and sisters.”
“Or what?” Cass set her jaw and put her hands on her hips, determined to stare the annoying man down. Despite the fact that he had stated almost exactly what she had been thinking, she was damned if she’d jump just because he said frog. “Or you’ll drag me by my hair like the cave man, excuse me—cave elf you are?”
“No,” he said coolly. “Or I’ll have to go back to the court without you and report that you need to be forcibly brought to the hearing. In which case the chief magistrate will probably appoint a fachan to come and get you.”
“A what?” Rory asked, frowning. She and Phil had drifted closer to O’Shea’s broad back as he talked to Cass, like iron filings drawn by a magnet. Now both of them and Nana were crowding around Cass and the irritating elf like spectators watching a fight.
“A fachan is an evil spirit with a single eye in the middle of its face,” Phil said, her voice trembling every so slightly. “They’re said to hate anything even remotely human. Some have claimed that even the sight of a fachan can cause a fatal heart attack.”
“Are you serious?” Cass spared a moment from her staring contest with O’Shea to see that her older sister looked remarkably pale.
“Your sister is correct and I am deadly serious,” Jacobin O’Shea said. “I’m not certain if the sight of a fachan could actually stop your heart, but then again you humans are puny creatures so it’s possible, especially if the fachan was angry. And I promise you that it would definitely be less than pleased to be dragged out of the Realm to fetch you.”
“That sounds awful.” Rory grimaced. “Cass, just come on. You don’t want to risk that.”
“But I…” Cass shook her head. She didn’t want to give in to threats from this big asshole, but then again, she didn’t want some pissed-off, one-eyed monster from another world hunting her down either.
“You have…” O’Shea reached into a side pocket of his expensive suit and pulled out an old-fashioned gold watch on a chain. “Exactly two minutes to decide,” he told her, putting the watch back after a glance. “Thanks to your stubborn refusal to listen to reason, we’re about to be running late.”
“Two minutes? But I can’t get changed in two minutes,” Cass protested. “And I can’t go like this—just look at me.” She gestured to herself, indicating the Snug as a Bug in a Rug! sleep shirt and the Bert and Ernie slippers. “I mean, I don’t even have on a bra!” She threw out her arms in protest, forgetting for a moment that their court-appointed elf was standing less than two feet from her and could probably see her nipples poking through the thin white cotton of her sleep shirt.
For the first time, a slight sardonic smile curved the corners of O’Shea’s narrow mouth.
“So I see,” he murmured.
Cass felt a hot blush spreading across her cheeks as his piercing leaf green eyes raked over her body. She crossed her arms over her chest quickly and bit her lip in frustration.
“What I meant was, I’m not exactly dressed to go to court,” she said stiffly, wishing she could punch the big elf in the mouth. She bet a fat lip would wipe that stupid little smirk off his face.
“But be that as it may, Miss Swann, your somewhat, ah…unconventional mode of dress can be more readily excused than our tardiness or your absence from the court room,” he said, returning his gaze firmly to her face. “Now, are you coming or not?”
“Fine.” Cass hated to give in to his bullying but he didn’t look like the kind of guy to bluff. If she had no choice about going to court, she would rather go like she was than be dragged there by some supernatural being so ugly it could stop your heart. “I’ll go,” she said and added mentally to herself, But that doesn’t mean I have to like it!
O’Shea seemed almost to hear her unspoken words because he didn’t tease her any farther. He simply nodded and held out his hand. But Cass balked at shaking hands.
“If you think I’m shaking hands with you, I’m not,” she told him bluntly. “I don’t care what court-appointed you. I’ll go because I’d rather come peaceably than be dragged but that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about putting up with your bullshit. So don’t expect me to play nice and pretend to be friends when you’re basically forcing me to go out in public in my pajamas.”
“Cassandra!” Nana gasped. “Language!”
O’Shea ignored her distraught grandmother and kept that piercing gaze trained on Cass.
“I have no intention of trying to be your friend,” he said in a voice that was little more than a growl. “But we must have skin-to-skin contact in order for me to transport you from your world back into the Realm of the Fae. I trust your sisters and grandmother to each take one of my fingers.” He held out his other hand as he spoke, the fingers of his large right hand splayed wide. Hesitantly, Phil and Rory and finally Nana each clutched a digit. “But you,” O’Shea continued, still holding out his left hand to Cass. “You I intend to keep an eye on. So take my hand, Cassandra Swann, or suffer the consequences. Now.”
Cass was so angry she felt fit to explode but there was nothing else she could do. Thinking that she’d rather bite his hand off than hold it, she reluctantly uncrossed her arms and reached for him. Before she knew what was happening, long, strong fingers were entwining with hers and she felt the familiar tingle that let her know Jacobin O’Shea had fae blood in his veins.
“Hang on to me tightly,” he murmured. Cass heard a whooshing sound like the wind when you put your head out of a fast moving car’s window. Then everything around her began to turn dark blue and swirl in a way that made her want to be sick. She closed her eyes tightly and held on.
When she opened them again, she was in a different world.
Four
Cass opened her eyes and looked around to see that they were all standing in a small brick room that looked like some kind of a cell. Except she’d never heard of any cell that was made of sparkly pink and gold bricks. And the floor, when she
looked down at it, appeared to be made of pale pink marble but there were no windows or doors to be seen.
Great, their court-appointed elf had taken them to an upscale jail. And even for a jail in the Realm of Fae she was underdressed, she thought ruefully, frowning down at her lady bug sleep shirt. Well, maybe they could hit a fairy pajama party on the way back from court where she’d feel right at home.
“You can let go of me now. Unless you’re still afraid.”
She looked up to see that O’Shea was looking down at her with something like amusement in his pale leaf green eyes. Cass realized she’d been so absorbed in taking in her surroundings that she’d forgotten she was holding his hand. She was clutching his large palm so tightly in hers that her nails were digging into the back of his hand, but he wasn’t complaining. Only standing there smirking down at her with that irritatingly arrogant look on his face. Asshole.
She dropped his hand abruptly. “I’m not afraid. You said to hang on to you.”
“Yes, I did. It’s nice to see you’re good at obeying some instructions.” There was definite amusement in his deep voice now.
“Excuse me?” Cass put a hand on her hip and glared at him. “I’m not here to obey you. I’m here because you threatened me and I had no choice.”
“I heard that you human women were touchy,” O’Shea remarked casually. “But I had no idea how much. Please accept my apologies for my poor choice of words.”
Cass clenched her jaw so hard she could feel her back teeth grinding together. “Speaking of poor word choices,” she said stiffly, “I don’t appreciate the way you keep talking about ‘humans’ as though we’re some kind of inferior species. I may not be a full-blooded fairy like you but—”
“I am not a fairy.” O’Shea cut her off, his eyes flashing and Cass realized that she had somehow finally managed to break through his calm exterior. It was satisfying but a little scary too. He seemed to get bigger somehow, looming over her like a thundercloud before he took a deep breath and the fire in his eyes died down. “I’m not a fairy and neither are you,” he said in a calmer tone. “And if you forget that fact you can be assured that one of the winged ones will remind you.”
“The winged ones?” Rory asked timidly, breaking into their conversation.
“That is another name for full-blooded fairies,” Nana answered unexpectedly. “Many species of Fae live in the Realm but only full-blooded fairies have fully functional wings, you know.” Her hair was a little disarranged from the strange whirlwind flight, Cass saw, but other than that she looked much calmer than either Phil or Rory who were obviously still pulling themselves together.
Cass took a deep breath and decided to file the information away for later.
“Well maybe I should apologize for my poor word choice,” she said, frowning at O’Shea. “I didn’t mean to call you a fairy if you’re not one. But the point is, I have both human and fairy blood in me and I’m not ashamed of either. I expect to be treated with respect and dignity and that doesn’t include your racist remarks about my ethnicity.”
O’Shea looked faintly surprised.
“What an astonishing attitude,” he remarked in that slightly British accent.
Cass glared at him.
“What, that I expect respect? Don’t they have political correctness here in the Realm?”
“Not that you expect to be treated with dignity, but that you acknowledge your mixed blood without shame. Most half-breeds are rather reluctant to admit their status.”
“I don’t like being called a ‘half-breed’ either,” Cass told him, narrowing her eyes. “That’s what our fairy godmother always calls us. In fact, as long as we’re suing her on all those charges, why not throw in ‘libel’ as well?” She looked at Phil who was still somewhat wind-blown. “Can we do that?”
O’Shea cursed softly under his breath, making her look back up at him.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded.
“We’re late,” he said tersely. “I’ve been standing here talking to you when I should have been getting the lot of you to court.” He frowned. “Are you certain you don’t have some kind of latent power? Did you work a spell to distract me?”
“What?” Cass frowned at the accusation. “Of course not. Why would I do that?”
O’Shea shook his head impatiently.
“Come on.” He grabbed Cass by the arm and motioned for Nana and her sisters to follow.
“Let go of me!” Cass demanded. But the big hand remained circling her bicep. O’Shea wasn’t holding her too tightly, but his grip felt like unbreakable steel all the same. He muttered a few words under his breath that sounded like another language—maybe Gaelic—and suddenly an arch appeared in the sparkly pink and gold bricks in front of them.
O’Shea cast a glance over his shoulder.
“Stay close to me, all of you,” he growled. “Things aren’t always what they seem in the Realm of the Fae.”
Protesting all the way, Cass was dragged through the archway with Nana, Phil, and Rory bringing up the rear.
Her grandmother was silent for once and her sisters still seemed too dazed to do anything but follow quietly and gaze at the scenery which irritated Cass to no end. Couldn’t they see she was being man-handled here? Or would it be elf-handled? Whatever you called it, she didn’t appreciate it one bit.
But soon even her irritation at O’Shea faded as she got her first look at the Realm of the Fae.
“Holy crap,” she heard Rory say behind her in a soft, reverent voice. “It’s like somebody crossed Rodeo Drive with Disney World.”
It was true, in a weird kind of way. Everywhere Cass looked, pastel skyscrapers rose to the pale blue patch of sky overhead. The buildings were all sparkling clean and done in tasteful shades of mint green, soft lavender and cotton candy pink. The pink marble floor that she had seen in their ‘cell’ was still in evidence as the sidewalk they were walking on.
The road that ran between the buildings on either side was made of bluish-gray marble and the vehicles that drove up and down it looked like something out of a science fiction novel.
Even stranger than the vehicles driving on the road were the ones flying through the air. Cass saw several that appeared to be large, plush sofas with ridiculously huge white feathered wings on either side. These ‘sofa-cars’ flew erratically through the air in a flagrant violation of the laws of physics—Earth physics at least, Cass thought.
Just watching them made her sick. She had fallen out of a friend’s tree house at the age of seven and the experience had left her with a deep and abiding fear of heights, although she’d rather die than admit it.
Damn, I’m glad we’re not riding on one of those things, she thought, watching weird flying furniture with unease.
The other vehicles which actually stayed on the road instead of flying over it seemed to be more animal than machine. She saw one large car that looked like a classic Rolls Royce with brass trim but it had four long gray horse legs with shiny black hooves where the tires should have been and was cantering along the blue marble street at a steady pace. Beside it and trying to pass it was what looked like a sleek black Mercedes with a panther’s huge paws and a muscular, twitching tail.
As far as Cass could see there was no discernible way of directing the traffic. The sofa-cars swooped in and out of the air, landing wherever there was a clear area to pick up and deposit passengers which made her wonder if they might be the taxi cabs of the Realm. And the animal vehicles—some of them had heads as well as tails and legs—stamped and snorted and sometimes stampeded down the broad street, pushing each other out of the way in their hurry to get to their destinations.
But if the transportation was strange, the people getting in and out of it were even stranger. Looking around, Cass recognized what must be the full-blooded fairies at once. They were the only ones with wide, sparkling wings sprouting from their backs, like oversized butterflies. The wings were reflected in all their rainbow glory in the plate glass window
s of the posh shops on either side of the street, as they fanned gently from side to side with each step their owners took.
There was something about the full-blooded fairies that bothered Cass and soon she realized why Rory had mentioned Rodeo Drive.
All of the ‘winged ones’ as O’Shea had called them, were dressed in what must be the latest fashion trends of the Realm. Cass saw rich silks and butter-soft leather. Gold and silver gleamed everywhere, sparkling with opals and diamonds and other jewels she didn’t have names for.
One thing the rich clothing displayed all around her did do was assure her that wearing her night shirt out in public didn’t matter a bit. Judging from the incredibly pricy outfits she saw the fairies wearing, Cass decided she could have worn the most expensive thing she owned and she still would have been drastically underdressed. And from the expressions on their faces, they would have looked down on her every bit as much if she was dressed to the nines as they did now when she was dressed for bed.
The only full-blooded fairy she’d ever seen was their fairy godmother and Cass had always assumed her designer clothes and brittle, bitchy attitude was unique. But there was a definite air of privilege around the tall, thin, richly dressed upper denizens of the Realm that made her think the FG was probably more the rule than the exception.
Some are born to bitchiness and some have bitchiness thrust upon them, she thought sourly.
Every full-blooded fairy she saw appeared to be born to it. At least, judging from the looks of distain they gave Cass and her sisters and Nana as they passed. They looked down the ends of their knife-blade noses, so unlike O’Shea’s and frowned until their prominent cheekbones looked sharp enough to cut paper.
Be Careful What You Wish For Page 3