Morgana has to be removed from the picture through her own actions. Ian won’t believe me or what DooNell shared with me. Best not tell him about the illusion the faerie created to drive Emma away.
Time to pay the old hag a visit. DooNell had more influence with beings in the Faerie Realm than Aphrodite. If all else failed, she could threaten Morgana with Oberon’s banishment.
The hunk massaged the muscles of Aphrodite’s calves, working upward to her thighs. Thoughts of Ian’s problems evaporated, replaced by the heat of lust. She’d deal with those issues later. Right now, she had an itch to scratch.
Hands folded in her lap and head resting on her chest, the hag napped in her rocking chair. Soft snores echoed around the room as Aphrodite took in the shabby-chic décor. Not exactly her taste. She preferred plush with lots of gold accents.
To each their own.
“DooNell.”
A startled gasped ended the snoring and the old woman stared up at Aphrodite in an owlish blinking fit. “Aye, and who are ye?” The fog seemed to lift from her eyes. “Never ye mind. What brings you to my humble door, Goddess of Love? You don’t be intending to fix me up are ye?”
A dry cackle followed the question, and Aphrodite couldn’t resist a smile. No, she wasn’t here for that, but it might be fun to play with the idea in the future. “I’ve come to discuss my grandson.”
Suspicion flared in the dark eyes, and the crone eased herself from the chair. “Care for a cup of tea?” She shuffled across the room and picked up the black kettle on top of a wood-burning stove. Without waiting for an answer, she poured boiling water into a pot and threw in a handful of tea leaves.
Her back still to Aphrodite, she asked. “Are you aiming to help me with your love spells?”
The Hag’s defensive on this matter. Best tread carefully.
“No, I’ve come to ask your help in a matter related to it, though.”
DooNell’s shoulders relaxed.
“You’re more familiar with the way things work in the Faerie Realm and have more influence there than I do.”
“That be true.” The old woman turned to face her, a snaggle-toothed grin spread across her face. “And what do you be needing my help with?”
“Morgana.”
“Ah.” The snowy head shook back and forth. “She does have a chip on her shoulder, for sure.”
The woman’s response spoke volumes. The faerie was known for her attitude in her own realm. Aphrodite had suspected that might be the case, but hoped she’d read the situation wrong. She hoped DooNell did wield as much influence as Aphrodite had heard.
“Do you think a visit from you would help her understand she can’t interfere with what has been put into action? I’m afraid if the words come from me, she’ll only take it as a challenge.”
“Aye. I can talk with her.” DooNell poured tea into two mugs, shuffled across the room to a small table, and motioned for Aphrodite to sit. “I think it best for her to tell young Ian the truth about what she’s already done.”
This may be easier than I thought.
“I couldn’t agree more.” Aphrodite sipped from the chipped blue mug, amazed at the richness of the hot drink. “So you’ll do it?”
A slight nod of the old head was answer enough. “Excellent. Then I can concentrate on Emma. It may take a little time to figure out what needs to be done since it involves a human.”
“Part human.” DooNell sipped her tea and her dancing eyes locked with Aphrodite’s over the rim of her mug. “The lady in question has a lot to learn about herself.”
“So here you be, wee faerie.” DooNell used her staff for support as she struggled to sit down beside Morgana on the patch of moss.
The faerie pitched pebbles into the reflecting pool without comment.
“These bones are too old to spend so long on a search for one such as you.”
After the goddess’s visit, DooNell had set out to find Morgana. She’d just missed her at several of the locations her crystal ball had designated. Now that she’d caught up with the little snip of a troublemaker, she had to convince her to confess what she’d done to create problems for Ian.
“Cailleach, what do you want with me? Go tend your seasons and leave me in peace.” Morgana tossed the last pebble she held into the pool and wrapped her arms around her knees, resting her chin on top of them.
“We need to talk.”
Stubborn this one might be, but she’s met her match in me.
DooNell adjusted her seat on the moss carpet and placed her hand on the faerie’s shoulder. “You can’t avoid me, so you may as well look at me.”
Resentment resonated in Morgana’s expression when she finally turned. “You’ve come to tell me to leave Ian alone.” Anger flared in the dark eyes. “I won’t do it. He’s mine.”
DooNell stared into the glittering pools in Morgana’s face and searched deep for her soul. She nodded, understanding the loneliness she saw buried there. The child clung to Ian because he was the one constant in her life.
“Poor wee faerie, you’re afraid if you lose the prince, you’ll never have another true friend.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, crazy old woman.” Morgana jerked away from DooNell’s touch and stood. “I love him. He’s mine. Understand, it’s simple as that.”
“Aye, you love him. You’ll always love him, but not in the way you want to believe you do.” She shook her head in sympathy. “He’s not for you in that way, child. You know it in your heart but don’t want to admit your own emptiness.”
“Nae, he’s mine. He’s mine.” Tears streamed down Morgana’s checks. “He’s mine.” The last spoken in a whisper.
DooNell pushed up off the moss with the aid of her staff and walked over to the faerie. “He’ll always be yours, in friendship.” She wrapped her arms around Morgana and held her close. “But you must tell him why Emma left while he was in London.”
“I won’t.” Sobs racked the slender body locked in DooNell’s arms. “I can’t.”
“Then, child, you leave me no choice.” She pushed the girl back from her and held her by the arms, “We’ll go to Oberon and you can tell our king.”
Chapter Nineteen
Aphrodite ran her hands over the muscular body of the young man lying next to her. By all the Powers, she loved a gorgeous male. What a shame looks were the only thing this one had going for him.
“So, babe, we gonna do it again or what? If not, I’m gonna hit the road. Surf’s totally awesome with the storm rolling in.”
Yes, it was getting time to cut this one loose. The Goddess of Love had taught him enough to get him the thing he wanted most after catching a good wave—sex. It had been a long six weeks since she’d overheard the conversation between two young women as she strolled along the beach on her morning scope for her day’s love connection.
“Yeah, too bad Duke isn’t as good in bed as he is on a board.” The bikini-clad blonde used a hand to shield her eyes against the sun’s glare on the sparkling blue water.
The dark-skinned beauty next to her flashed a grin, showing her over-whitened teeth. “Listening to him talk, you’d think he was a real stud master.”
“Not the case.”
The blonde lowered her hand and leaned in toward her friend. Aphrodite tuned up her hearing level. No gal wanted to miss the good dirt.
“I’ve done him.”
“No!”
“Yep.” She shook her blond mane. “I think doing a jackhammer would have resulted in better satisfaction.”
“Do tell!”
“At least it would if it kept on going until I got mine, instead of pooping out and wanting me to give it head.”
Both girls had collapsed onto their towels in a fit of giggles. Aphrodite lost interest until someone yelled, “Duke!”
It hadn’t been difficult to identify the non-sex machine called Duke, and she’d made it a point to introduce herself. Yes, she found her love connection of the moment, only it had taken
longer than a day to teach the sexy surfer what he needed to know to please women. She only hoped the future women who crossed his path weren’t interested in mental stimulation as well.
Okay, maybe one more lesson before she sent him to pleasure mortal women. Trailing a perfectly manicured hot pink fingernail across Duke’s stomach, Aphrodite smiled and lowered her head to taste his full lips. A knock on her bedroom door interrupted her goal.
Hades. This better be good.
Miles, her English butler who ran her Hollywood home with the efficiency of a drill sergeant, knew better than disturb her games.
She shoved her arms into the robe she snatched up off the floor and tied it tight around her waist as she stomped across the room. Jerking open the door, the goddess glared at the man standing on the other side. “Damnit, Miles. I’m entertaining.”
The slender man dressed in a black morning coat stood straighter. “Sorry to disturb, Madame, but you have a visitor who insisted I let you know of his arrival.”
“Who is this inconsiderate person?”
“He didn’t give me a name, just that you would want to be interrupted. He’s in the solarium.” Miles gave a short bow, turned, and marched down the hall.
I swear that man must have a poker permanently inserted up his ass. Nobody can naturally stand that straight all the time.
Dressed in a California casual striped sundress and slip-on gold sandals, Aphrodite entered the room and stopped. “Odin, what in Hades are you doing here?”
“Delighted to see you, too, my dear.”
The big man towered over her, and though she’d seen him recently when they all met to discuss Ian, memories of their connection so long ago flooded forward. The Nordic god did know how to make a woman feel special, whether she was commoner or a goddess. A cough brought her back from her brief stroll down memory lane.
Aphrodite turned toward the sound. “Oberon? Odin? Hell really must be ready to freeze over if I’m being visited by the Big Os.” The name Ian had dubbed his grandfathers behind their backs slipped out. Oops, that will go over well.
“We’re well aware of the term of endearment favored by our grandson.” Oberon pulled himself up to his full height and straightened his sleeves. “We’d have to be idiots not to know it.”
“Right.” Especially with your mind reading tricks. A change of subject was on the agenda. Even though The Faerie King might only be able to puff himself up to five feet on a good day, when he was in a snit, he intimidated her as much as Zeus in a rage.
“What gives, gentlemen?” She didn’t bother to ask if they wanted a drink since both held glasses of what appeared to be scotch. “Did you stop by on a social visit, or have you discovered something that will help us come up with a solution to the Ian situation?”
She glided over to the bar and poured a glass of cabernet from an open bottle of her favorite vineyard, waiting for them to share the reason for their visit.
“We have information.”
Odin’s breath caressed across the back of her neck. His masculine scent tickled her nose, and the old heat between them reared its ugly head.
Get a grip, girl. No way are you going down that road again. Once in forever is more than enough.
“Don’t keep me in suspense. Tell all.” The tightness in her throat made it difficult to get the words out with ease. She moved across the room and chose a chair across from Oberon. Curling her legs under her, she leaned back and waited to find out the big news.
Oberon cast a glance in Odin’s direction. His look seemed to say “back off,” but she wasn’t sure.
With his attention back on Aphrodite, the faerie said, “We visited Emma Grant.”
Wow, this is big news. Maybe I won’t have to pay her a visit. I can better use the time to line up a new playmate.
Odin sat on the other end of the sofa occupied by his friend. The Nordic god’s massive frame took up most of his side.
“She’s not what we expected.” He swirled his drink for a moment, studying the liquid. “We went expecting to dislike her and came away feeling she’s worthy of our grandson.”
This chick must really be impressive. I may need to make that visit anyway.
“What about her did you find so remarkable?”
“Her beauty for one thing.” Odin stretched out his legs, his feet sticking out from under the coffee table and smiled. “She’s a real woman, not one of the sticks that are so popular in this country.”
That figures. The old fart always thought with his little head, though some would say I think with the head. She bit back a snort and turned to Oberon. Hopefully, he would have a sensible answer.
A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth and then turned into a full grin. “Odin’s right about that”—he wickedly wiggled his eyebrows—“but there is more to her than looks. She’s smart and compassionate, but her taste in fashion leaves much to be desired.”
“And she thinks we’re total fruitcakes.” Odin gave a sheepish grin. “I read her mind a little.”
Oberon studied the carpet and would not meet Aphrodite’s gaze. Oh, yeah. The old faerie had read Emma’s mind a lot. The poor woman probably hadn’t had a private thought the whole time these two were around her. Aphrodite almost felt sorry for her.
“Did you two great minds discover anything of value other than you deem her worthy of our grandson?”
“Uh…well”—Oberon squirmed a little—“we did learn she’s as heartbroken as Ian.”
“And this was discovered how? Did she tell you?”
“Not exactly.” Odin set his empty glass on the table at his elbow and twiddled his fingers in his lap while staring at the ceiling.
Aphrodite refused to believe his timid, innocent act.
“What in Hades does that mean?” Aphrodite’s patience was growing thin. The two had interrupted her play time, and other than the fact that they’d met this Emma, they really had nothing of value to share.
“I looked into her heart.”
Aphrodite was amazed at Oberon’s boastful tone. He had no regrets at such an invasion of the woman’s privacy.
“I determined her true feelings needed to be understood in order for us to know how to proceed.”
He did have a point. The invasion of Emma’s privacy made sense, in an illogical male sort of way. “And do you know what we need to do next?”
“It’s simple, really.” Odin’s timid moment had vanished. “You need to pay her a visit. Explain about Ian’s life and all of us.”
“Morgana, now is not a good time for a visit.” Ian resented the intrusion by the faerie more than usual.
Why in hell did immortals think they had the right to drop in unannounced when the whim hit them?
“Ian, I really need to talk with you.”
The nervous voice caused Ian to study her closely. She didn’t have the usual arrogance she wore like a prize on a mantel. In fact, she looked deflated.
He knew that look well. A great part of his duties included counseling the inhabitants of the estate, as well as those from the village, who came to him bearing such looks. He should have become a priest from all the confessions he’d heard.
He bit back a sigh as he saw his work goals for the day shatter. No matter. This was a friend, and he needed to set aside his personal anguish and depression. The important thing was to find out what he could do to help her. “What’s wrong? You seem a bit down in the tooth.”
She lifted her head, and her dark eyes glittered with what could be tears.
Impossible. Morgana doesn’t cry.
The faerie created situations for others that generated their need to cry. Whatever caused this much emotion in her was not going to be good.
“Ian.” Her voiced broke and she swallowed hard. “I…I need to tell you something.” Her lips quivered, making the words hard to hear as she swatted at a single tear that slid down her cheek.
Whatever it was couldn’t be so horrible as to generate this much emotion in her—could it?
Was the world coming to an end? Ian reached out, but she turned away and flitted across the room. She stood in front of the fireplace blazing with cracking logs. At last, she swirled around and faced him.
“Ian, it’s about Emma Grant.”
His heart sank to his feet. His daily struggle to drive Emma from his mind was a losing battle. The last thing he wanted to hear was a tirade from Morgana about the woman who’d crushed his soul, whether he still loved her or not. “Morgana, any discussion of Emma is off limits. Do I make myself clear?”
She bowed her dark head. “If that’s all you came do discuss, you need to leave now. I have work to do.” He walked over to his computer and sat, staring at the screen, and began to read through the last page.
“It’s my fault she left.”
“What?” He whirled around and stared at the old Morgana, defiant to the core, with clenched fists. “How is her leaving your fault?”
“I created an illusion.”
“An illusion? Morgana, I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Make sense, wee faerie. What did you do to make her leave?
The faerie chewed her bottom lip and took a deep breath. “I made her see you and me making love. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I just wanted her gone so things would return to the way they used to be between us.”
Ian struggled to tamp down the fury that surged through him. Morgana’s petty jealousy was the cause of the pain he’d endured these past months. His instant response was to ban her from his life forever, but rash actions were something he’d learned to stifle until he had time to think clearly. “Morgana, you need to leave. Now.”
“Can we still be friends?”
Her plea sounded so pitiful, but this wasn’t the moment to tell her the rage that filled his heart. Instead he spat out a cryptic, “I don’t know.”
“I understand.” She vanished, her sad words ringing in his ears.
The unfairness of the situation hit Ian in the gut full force. No wonder Emma had thought him to be yet another man who couldn’t be trusted. Could there be more to what he witnessed in Edinburgh than his conclusion she was a woman not to trust? How could he find out?
Beyond Magic (Magical Love Book 1) Page 16