by Ann Gimpel
A collective sigh surged through the room.
Roz ran her fingers across Ronin’s palm before releasing him, and quirked an inquisitive brow. “Will every Sidhe in here be able to fight demons?”
Ronin shook his head. “No. It never worked that way before. We have, or we used to have,” he corrected himself, “a warrior class. They will be the ones who volunteer to resorb the genetic code.”
Colleen picked up the direction of Roz’s thoughts. “I’m assuming there are more Sidhe than those in this room.”
“Yes. Perhaps triple this number,” Ronin concurred.
“If half of you took back the genetics to fight demons,” Colleen said, “we’d have them on the run in no time, plus Duncan uncovered a source of magic that allowed him to send them packing, and he hasn’t had any genetic alterations at all.”
Gasps escalated into a sibilant rustling that became nearly deafening. “Duncan.” Ronin’s voice was sharp, rising above the din. “Come up here.”
Colleen walked back to where Duncan sat and crooked a finger. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to blow your cover,” she said.
“You’re in for it now, old chap.” Tristan clapped Duncan’s shoulder.
He got to his feet and joined Colleen. “Should have told you to keep quiet,” he whispered.
“I have very good ears.” Ronin’s voice carried across the room.
Colleen bit back laughter. Duncan made a grab for her hand, but she trotted ahead of him. Together, they walked briskly to where Ronin stood. The crowd quieted. Duncan turned so he faced everyone. “It’s quite simple, really. I tapped into the ancient power source that we normally eschew because it’s so hard to control. You know, the one they teach us about when we’re young, and then tell us never to use.”
“And?” Ronin’s eyes blazed with something wild, and barely constrained.
Duncan shrugged. “The power is there. Just like it’s always been. It’s hideous to manage, but it does seem to force demons back to their borderworlds. If you believe the dark fae, it extinguishes the Irichna, but I’m not so sure about that.” He grinned. “I’m still here to tell about it, so it doesn’t kill us.”
“The Unseelie?” Ronin laid a hand on Duncan’s arm. The wild look in his eyes shone hotly. “I have a feeling you haven’t told us quite everything.”
“You’d be correct,” Duncan said, “but when would I have had a chance?”
“You haven’t, but you’ll make time to tell me everything.” Ronin’s voice rang with command. Colleen got a glimpse of just how powerful he was. She took a deep breath. Getting to know the Sidhe would be an adventure in and of itself.
“My lord.” Duncan inclined his head. “I’m sure we’ll work something out.”
“Ronin can wait. Teach us how to access that power,” someone cried. “It’s been so long since I learned about it, I’ve forgotten.”
“Yes. Immediately,” another Sidhe demanded.
“I’ll do what I can,” Duncan said. “Colleen and I are due back in Seattle on December twenty-first for our wedding.”
Sidhe surged to their feet and rushed forward. Questions bounced about the room. Had he told Oberon? Titania? Did they give their blessings?
“I asked you not to do that?” Colleen spoke low into his ear.
“And I said I wouldn’t until the meeting was over.” He drew her against him. “It’s looking pretty much over to me. People want to congratulate us. I say we let them.”
“I thought you said they’d shun you because of Titania, that she’d excommunicate you or something.”
He smiled, appearing so happy and relieved, it touched her heart. “Looks as if I was wrong about part of it. Titania may try to bar me from Sidhe society, but it appears my kinfolk will ignore her.”
“So.” Ronin held his ground against the Sidhe forming a tight circle around them. “I’ll forgive you for the short notice, if you invite us to your nuptials.”
“Of course—” Duncan began.
“We need to at least ask Naomi,” Colleen interrupted, concerned about taking advantage of the Witches’ Northwest Coven’s hospitality. She scanned the group. “There must be around eighty of you here. If the other two-thirds of you came too, that would be over two hundred extra people. It’s not the sort of thing you can just spring on someone without lots of notice.”
“Tell her we’ll cater your wedding.” Ronin waved an airy hand. “Besides, I need time with Duncan. If I have to chase him across the Atlantic to get it, I’ll do so.” He eyed the witches. “Besides, it’s high time our races got to know one another better.”
“Is that so?” Roz’s old sarcastic tone was back in spades. “If you really mean that, there are Covens right here in the U.K. where you could begin.”
Epilogue
Colleen lolled on a plush sofa in one the many downstairs rooms in Duncan’s house. She sipped from a snifter of Armagnac and sighed heavily. “I can hardly believe we’re alone for a few hours.”
Duncan settled next to her and swirled the liquor in his own snifter. The amber liquid gave off a heady fragrance. “Well, we are. Bubba, er Niall, is with a group of Scottish changelings, probably getting shit-faced. Jenna went shopping, and,” he rolled his eyes, “unbelievable as it may seem, we left Roz at Ronin’s chatting with a group of Sidhe council members.”
“Why is that unbelievable?”
“I told you the Sidhe are unbearably insular, plus Ronin has ignored the human race since the fourteen hundreds.”
“What happened then?”
“A mortal woman died delivering his child. The babe died too. He always blamed himself for falling in love outside our ranks.”
“That’s horrible. No wonder he comes off as a pompous prig. It’s a defense mechanism to keep people away. I almost feel sorry for him.”
“Don’t. He’s had more than his share of women since then. He just never let himself get attached again.” Duncan sipped his brandy. “He may be arrogant, and a bit of a pain in the ass, but he’s been a good leader, all in all.”
Colleen leaned against him. “Probably no one else wanted the job. I’m beginning to see where immortality’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” She wriggled, trying to loosen stiff muscles. “All I have to say is he’d better not patronize the witches in Seattle, or he’ll have to answer to me.”
Duncan laughed, the sound deep and rich. When he could talk again, he said, “It would be amusing to see the two of you square off against one another, but I have a feeling it won’t come to that.”
“No fair. You’ve been peeking inside my mind.” He adopted an innocent look, all wide eyes. She elbowed him and said, “On a more serious note, we have until what? Day after tomorrow, and then we have to leave?”
“Something like that. Did you phone Naomi?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What’d she say?”
“After she got over not being able to talk at all, she said she was sure they’d figure something out. I guess they’ve had as many as five hundred people there before for ceremonies.”
Concern flitted across his perfect features. “Did you tell her the Sidhe will take care of all the food?”
“I did. I think she was more shocked that the Sidhe wanted to visit her Coven than anything else. You haven’t exactly been the most approachable group.”
He nodded his understanding. “No, we haven’t.” Duncan set his snifter down, and took hers, setting it on the coffee table alongside his. He opened his arms. “Rather than rehashing history, I’d like to make better use of this little sliver of private time that fell into our laps.”
She winked. “Just what did you have in mind…my lord?”
“I can come up with a French maid’s outfit if you’re going to talk like that?”
“Really? Who was the last one to wear it?”
In one lightning fast move, he scooped her into his arms and closed his mouth over hers. He licked the seam between her lips, probing for entrance, and she opened her m
outh to him. He tasted wonderful, sweet like the brandy and fresh like wheat fields she remembered from her childhood in eastern Washington. The more they made love, and they’d even managed to squeeze into the tiny jetliner bathroom by using magic to make the flight attendant look the other way, the faster she responded to his advances. Her nipples pebbled and her crotch flooded with heat. She pushed her hands under his shirt, frantic for the feel of his skin. Fingertips connecting, she reeled from the larger-than-life reality of him: hot, silky, electric, and all hers. Her breathing quickened; her throat clotted with desire.
He broke their kiss and licked his way down her neck. Where he touched her, she felt supercharged, alive. No matter how much he caressed her, she always wanted more. She arched against him, moaning low in the back of her throat.
“I love it when you make that sound,” he said, hands tightening on her back. “You sound like a lioness purring.”
He rucked her shirt out of the way and reached behind her to unhook her bra. She moved it above her breasts and he settled in to suckle her. He was so skilled, licking, sucking, biting, nibbling, she sometimes came without any additional stimulation. From the hot tightness between her legs, this was looking like one of those times. She writhed and rubbed her thighs together. Anticipation of sensation added spice to her peaks when they cascaded through her body, leaving her breathless and satiated.
She repositioned herself so she could cradle his cock in her hands. The heat of him through his pants seared her. She wanted to take him into her mouth and do some serious licking and sucking of her own. She’d just begun to unfasten his trousers when something in the air shifted and changed.
Her eyes snapped wide open. “What was that?”
He lifted his mouth from her breasts. “What was what, darling?”
“You’re as lost in rut as I am. I felt…something just a few seconds ago.” She straightened and pulled her top down, scanning the room for clues.
“You’re being silly—” he began, and then broke off. “Damn it!” He drew away from her, rearranged his cock, and zipped his pants back up.
“Who’s here? Or who will be?” She reached behind herself to hook her bra.
“Titania,” he said through gritted teeth and shook his head. “I’d meant to track her down, but what with all the Sidhe clamoring to know about that power source I tapped into, and Ronin wanting a full report on the dark fae, I ran out of time.”
“Excuses, excuses,” an airy voice trilled. A coruscation flashed in the air and a tall, emaciated woman, with silver hair to the floor, stepped from its glow. “Lovely. Perfect.” She clapped her hands together. “I’d hoped to find the two of you—alone.”
Duncan scrambled to his feet and bowed. “Your Highness. Welcome to my home. May I offer you any refreshments?”
Because Colleen wasn’t certain of the correct protocol, and because she didn’t owe any allegiance to the Faerie queen, she remained seated. Wary and watchful, but seated.
“Thank you.” Titania swept the room with her pale blue gaze. “Whatever you’re having will be fine.”
“It’s Armagnac. I have mead if you’d prefer.” Duncan straightened and stood, looking at his queen.
“I would prefer it. You know me too well, dear boy.”
“Back in a moment.” He trotted from the room.
Colleen winced. There was something patronizing about Titania’s tone that grated on her nerves. As if the monarch had read her thoughts, she turned to face her. “You don’t like me.”
Aw shit, here it comes. Colleen got to her feet, so they’d be more equally matched. “Why should I?” she countered. “Duncan came to you and said he wanted to marry me. You not only withheld your blessing, you vanished so he couldn’t discuss it any further.”
Titania winced. “Ach, he told you that, did he?”
“Why wouldn’t he? Lovers shouldn’t hold secrets, at least not ones of that nature. Plus,” Colleen forged on, “you put Duncan in a really difficult position. He had to choose between his kinsmen and me.” She put her hands on her hips. “That wasn’t fair.”
Duncan walked back into the room. He handed a glass of mead to Titania and strode to Colleen’s side. “Darling. It’s all right. You don’t have to defend me.” He glanced at his queen with eyes that looked weary, and wounded. “You sought me out for a reason, my liege. Tell me what you wish of me.”
She furled her silver brows. “I actually wanted several things. I wanted to meet the woman you were willing to place above allegiance to your people.”
Colleen smiled coldly. “Here I am. Do you think I’m worth it?”
“It’s not wise to bait her,” Duncan murmured.
“No.” Titania smiled too, but it was reminiscent of a scimitar. “I could flay the skin off your body.”
“Feed me to the Irichna?” Colleen inquired caustically. “I’ve been there more times than I can count. You don’t scare me. But I am angry you caused Duncan pain.”
Titania fixed her unearthly gaze on Duncan. “She doesn’t understand us.”
He blew out a breath. “She understands me. I’m not certain about the rest of us.”
“That was the second thing I wanted.” Titania forged ahead, making Colleen think the queen lacked even the barest rudiments of how to conduct a two-way conversation. “When you sought me out, there was only one witch-Sidhe pair, now there seem to be three.” She spread almost translucent fingers before her. “Why are you making my life so trying? Ronin, in particular, is nearly impossible to control. I have no idea what he sees in that black-haired hag, but—”
“Now you hold on a fucking minute.” Colleen’s temper shot over the top. Her blood heated with outrage. “Roxanne Lantry is one of the strongest, most courageous women I know. I will not stand by and hear her slandered. Do I make myself clear?” She sucked air and forged ahead. “Plus, at least so far all Colleen and Roz have done is talk with some of your precious Sidhe males. That scarcely makes them couples.”
Titania rolled her eyes and fanned herself with one hand. “What a feisty bunch you are. I had witches pegged as a docile lot who cast runes around a fire and chanted up homilies.”
“You had us pegged wrong.” Colleen bit her lower lip. She wanted to slug Titania, but figured it wouldn’t go over well. Damn royalty anyway. They treated whoever they wanted like crap, and got away with it—every time.
Duncan looked miserable. He moved between Colleen and the Queen of Faerie. “Titania, you cannot deal rudely with my wife-to-be. She will soon be the lady of this manor.” He inhaled raggedly. “If you came here to sever my ties with Faerie and relieve me of my immortality, just get on with it.”
“Presenting yourself to me like a plucked goose, are you?”
“This isn’t funny,” Colleen snapped. “He’s doing the best he can. I don’t fully understand all your rules, or I’d help him.”
Titania snapped her fingers in front of Colleen. “Oberon’s breath, woman. Stand down. Show some respect for me. I’m many thousands of years old.”
“If you want respect from me,” Colleen said evenly, wondering where her courage was coming from, “you’ll have to earn it. I have a funny way of not respecting people who treat those I love badly.”
Duncan turned to her; his mouth was twisted into an expression she couldn’t read. “I love you for being fierce and trying to protect me, but let’s hear Titania out. She’ll tell us what she wants eventually.”
“Indeed I will,” the queen huffed.
Colleen opened her mouth, but Duncan shook his head. She balled her hands into fists so hard her nails dug into her palms. While she waited for the queen to spit out what she wanted, Colleen made a conscious effort to unkink her aching hands.
“Much better.” Titania frowned. “I was beginning to wonder if you could remain silent, or if you always had to have the last word.” She flicked a finger toward Colleen. “Always having to win isn’t a good trait in a woman.”
“So it’s better in a m
an?”
Duncan’s mouth twitched. In moments, he started to laugh. After a long, awkward moment, Titania joined in. Colleen just watched, open mouthed, wondering what was so funny.
Titania took a substantial gulp from the glass in her hand, and then set it down. “You may not like me,” she said to Colleen, “but I think I’m going to like you very much. I was testing your mettle. You not only passed,” the queen snorted, “you surpassed my wildest expectations of what you’d be like. You’re tough, gutsy, and apparently not afraid to stand up to anyone.”
Colleen swallowed outrage so she wouldn’t lope across the room and deck the Queen of Faerie. “That…that,” she waved her arms at a loss for words, “was all just a test?” Titania nodded, blue eyes guileless. “You’re not going to excommunicate Duncan, or take away his immortality?” A complex array of emotions buffeted her. Gratitude sparred with anger that the queen hadn’t been more direct.
“No. I’m not planning to do any of those things.” Titania shifted her gaze to Duncan. “At least not today, but if you do something to anger me in the future…”
Joy, so primal it was painful to look at, bloomed on his face. Colleen blanched as the depth of his feelings for her slammed home in raw, visceral Technicolor. She meant everything to him, enough for him to be willing to walk away from home, hearth, and kin.
“Thank you, my liege.” He bowed low.
Colleen’s anger evaporated in the face of Duncan’s obvious relief. Courtesy of her blow-hot, blow-out, Irish temper, she’d always been quick to flare up, but equally quick to let things go. She faced Titania and bowed too. “Thank you.”
The queen smiled broadly. “Now that we have the preliminaries out of the way, aren’t you going to invite me to share your evening meal? I want to hear all about the upcoming wedding.” She skewered Colleen with her unnerving gaze. “You must tell me more about witches. I had no idea you were such a captivating group.”