Cruel Enchantment

by Bast, Anya

  We’ve got you covered.

  What was that supposed to mean? What’s going on?

  Pause.

  Are you going to hurt me? There was no reply for several moments.

  We have no plans to hurt you. That was not exactly a comforting answer.

  I hate you with all that I am. Even in her mind, her voice shook with emotion.

  Silence.

  BROTHER Gideon Amberdoyle stared across his desk at Charlotte with his watery brown eyes. Slight of build and average in height, Mr. Amberdoyle was hardly the imposing figure his position might lead someone to believe him to be. In fact, he was far slighter in physical stature than the majority of his Phaendir brethren. With his thinning hair and cheap gray suit, he put Charlotte more in the mind of a car salesman than the leader of the Phaendir, the most powerful group of individuals in the world.

  Still, just being in the same room with him choked her up. It was better than meeting the president. “I can’t even tell you what an honor it is to meet you,” she gushed at him for the third time since she’d sat down.

  He smiled a little, but it was cold and his eyes flashed for a moment when he did it. Her smile went flat. Ah, so there was strength behind the unassuming visage. “You seem to be an awfully big fan of the Phaendir, Miss Bennett.”

  “I am. My whole family is very grateful to the Phaendir. I’m not sure my father’s line would have survived if the Phaendir hadn’t stepped in during the fifteen hundreds and created Piefferburg. In fact, I might not even be sitting here if you hadn’t imprisoned the fae.”

  “Yes.” He glanced at a file on his desk. “Your family has had intimate dealings with the fae throughout the centuries, not all of them very pleasant.”

  “None of them pleasant, according to my father and grandfather.” She shuddered and looked down into her lap. “Believe me when I say I’m not looking forward to spending time among them.” She hadn’t lied yet, but it was coming. The magickal compulsion lay as heavily on her will as it had since yesterday.

  Brother Gideon smiled his hard little smile again and leaned toward her from behind his desk. “That’s why I find your request so odd. Why would someone with a history like yours take an assignment that put her in Piefferburg City for two whole weeks? Why didn’t you request that your accounting firm send someone in your place?”

  The wave of compulsion was so strong that when she opened her mouth to tell Gideon the absolute truth, no words came out, only little puffs of air.

  Brother Gideon’s eyes narrowed.

  “Sorry, I’m a little overwhelmed.” She blinked a few times and smiled. “I don’t like it, but it’s my job and I’m looking to be promoted. I couldn’t turn this assignment down, not at this point in my career. You can call my boss if you’re suspicious of my intentions.” She opened her purse, extracted one of her business cards and handed it to him over the desk.

  She hoped he called. Her boss would tell him the truth—he had never assigned her any such special project—and she could get out of this mess somehow. Even if it meant she went to jail or the loony bin, anything was better than Piefferburg.

  He took the card, stared at it for a moment and set it aside. As he moved, she noticed the thick, white mottled skin peeking from his cuffs. Scar tissue, it looked like. Charlotte knew that the most pious of the Phaendir self-flagellated. Apparently this man was really into it.

  Licking his thin lips, he steepled his fingers on his desk and raised his gaze to hers. “I can see no possible ulterior motive for your entrance into Piefferburg, Miss Bennett. I’m satisfied after performing a very thorough background check that you have no sympathies with the HFF.”

  She gasped in genuine shock. “No, I most certainly do not.”

  He smiled. “That said, you must understand we need to be very careful these days. My predecessor, Brother Maddoc, allowed the fae to recover several magickal artifacts, ones that might be of use to them. It’s why we checked your luggage and purse when you arrived this morning.”

  “Yes, I know. I read all about it in the paper. There’s a possibility the fae could break the walls and run loose.” A shiver went up her spine at the thought. She wasn’t alone. After the news had broken there had been a run on survival supplies and weapons that could be used against the fae. The media had, of course, shamelessly hyped the hysteria.

  Brother Gideon’s face went hard. “No, Miss Bennett, there’s no possibility that such a thing might occur. Not on my watch.”

  She nodded. “I believe you.”

  “But in order to keep it from happening, we need to analyze every entrant into Piefferburg. My predecessor’s methods were too lax and people got in who shouldn’t have. Our processes are not meant to offend.”

  “I’m not at all offended. I’m happy to see such strong controls in place.”

  He smiled at her and picked up the business card. “I’m glad you understand.” Then he reached for the phone.

  Oh, thank God.

  Say this, As Labrai wills, so shall it be.

  Charlotte jerked at the abrupt intrusion of her puppet master’s creepy psychic link. His words were accompanied by a compulsion so strong that the phrase tumbled from her lips before she could even think about uttering them. Smiling serenely, she said, “As Labrai wills, so shall it be.”

  Brother Gideon paused with the phone halfway to his ear. She could hear it ringing on the other end. Her office was in Oregon, three hours behind Protection City, and had just opened. Brother Gideon almost set the receiver back into the cradle. Instead, he lifted it all the way to his ear.

  Ha! Take that, puppet master. She received no reply. The magick man was probably shaking in his boots right now.

  She smiled smugly as Brother Gideon connected with one of her superiors and attempted to verify her story. Any moment now and the jig would be up. Brother Gideon would—

  He hung up the phone and gave her a wide smile. “Everything checks out. I hope your project in Piefferburg City is successful, Miss Bennett.”

  Her smile faltered.

  Still under the magickal mojo, she stood smoothly and offered her hand across the desk. “Thank you very much, Mr. Amberdoyle. It was truly a pleasure to meet you.”

  He stood and shook her hand. “I’ll walk you to the gates. Shall I order a car to meet you once you’re inside? You’re not dressed for a hike through the Boundary Lands and I don’t advise it. It’s very dangerous.”

  “Nor would I ever want to take one. Yes, a car to Piefferburg Square would be lovely.”

  They made their way out of the office, headed toward the exit. Her hands were shaking as she picked up her suitcase, packed with clothes and other items she’d bought as soon as she’d reached Protection City, and followed him. In a mere matter of minutes she would be in the one place on earth she’d never wanted to go.

  “I understand you’re going to the Piefferburg Mercantile Exchange, among other locales,” Brother Gideon said mildly as he led her to the gates.

  “Yes. They’re having trouble with their accounting system and need me to consult.”

  “Yours is not the first company to be doing business in Piefferburg City, of course. Piefferburg has done well in creating an economy.” Brother Gideon’s teeth barely kept from gnashing. “And the government allows them to do it.”

  “Of course. Business is business, I guess, though I agree the morality is a little murky.”

  “Indeed.”

  Gravel crunched under her shoes and the wheels of her suitcase as they walked in silence for a moment. Outwardly, it was likely she appeared calm. Inwardly, she seethed. As soon as she met this man pulling her strings as if she was some marionette, she was going to let him have it. Now she understood that expression about blood boiling with rage.

  The huge gates, they were already opening as Gideon and Charlotte reached them. The hinges made a low moaning sound, a little like what she imagined the gates of hell might sound like. Her stomach churned.

  Brother Gide
on turned toward her and bowed a little. “Safe travels. May Labrai always be at your side.”

  She bowed in response, a little stiffly. “And also at yours.”

  “Call the front gates when you’re ready to leave. Your name will be on the list of approved exiters. They’ll send a car for you if you ask them.”

  “Thank you.” She stood staring at him for a long moment. Stalling. The compulsion was pushing her toward the gates and she was resisting, but her ability to do so flagged more with every second.

  Brother Gideon fidgeted, motioning at the entrance. “You’re free to enter now.”

  She closed her eyes briefly. “So I am.” The compulsion forced her to turn and walk through the gates, leaving her world behind her. The gates closed with a thump that made her jerk.

  The other side of the gates looked much the same, though the trees and foliage around her seemed to have extra color—like she’d stepped into a painting in which the artist had used slightly unreal hues. She stood on a paved area with a dark brown gravel road beginning not far away that led off into what appeared to be an enchanted forest.

  All she could see past the paved area, other than the road stretching away to what had to be Piefferburg City, were trees. Huge, towering, ancient trees. She’d never seen the California redwoods, but this is what she imagined they must look like. She felt dwarfed by them, and they seemed almost sentient. As though they were watching her, judging her, and found her . . . wanting.

  “Miss Bennett?”

  She turned to meet her first fae. Wanting nothing more than to scream and run away, she froze, staring. It was a red cap, of all things. She knew what they were because every human did. No human hadn’t been told horrific campfire stories about these creatures or wondered if they lurked under beds in the dead of night when they’d been a child.

  He was a hulking monster of a humanoid fae with a dark red “cap” of skin on his otherwise bald head. A swirl of black tattoos marked his massive face, swarming down one side of his neck. If she could see inside his mouth, she would see viciously pointed teeth—all the better to tear the flesh from the bones of his enemies.

  Red caps needed to kill periodically to survive—luckily periodically was every few hundred years. It was also lucky that they kept their restorative murdering to their own kind in elaborate gladiator-like tournaments that all the fae turned out to see. Faemous was always trying to get permission from the FCC to air the tournaments and, lucky for all, the FCC always denied them.

  “Please don’t eat me.” She snapped her mouth shut. Her sudden fear had just pushed the words she’d been thinking right out there.

  The red cap guard leered at her and smiled. Oh, yes, there were the teeth. Suddenly she felt a little woozy. “You’re not to my taste.”

  Another guard motioned with an excessively long arm toward a classy black sedan waiting at the curb. “Your car.”

  “Th-thank you.” She walked to it and opened the back door. Peering in, she hoped nothing would make her want to pee her pants.

  A man with artfully tousled, thick dark hair and a face fit for a men’s magazine cover grinned charmingly at her from behind the wheel. He had dimples, a trait that gave him an innocent air that was immediately offset by the mischievous—maybe even dangerous—glint in his eyes. He was devastatingly handsome. He was not, however, the man from her dream. “I’m Niall Daegan Riordan Quinn. Get in and I’ll take you where you need to be.”

  She paused, leaning into the car with one hand on the handle of her suitcase and the other on the door. “I’m nowhere close to where I need to be.” Her voice shook with badly controlled rage. “Tell your friend to let me go back to my life.”

  His eyebrows rose. “You have more guts than your looks imply.”

  “Gee, thanks for the compliment.”

  He grinned again. This time it was far more irritating than it was charming. “Get in already, would you? You’ve got no choice but to go to Kieran and you know it.”

  Kieran? “Is that his name?”

  “Get in and I’ll tell you more.”

  She hesitated a moment longer, then pushed her suitcase onto the backseat and climbed in after it. No way was she sitting in front with this guy.

  Once she’d closed the door, he pulled away from the curb. “Normally the goblins drive the cars to and from the gates, but we figured getting into a vehicle with one of them behind the wheel might be a little too much for you.”

  She shifted impatiently. “So Kieran is the”—she struggled to find the right word. She never swore, but the urge to do so now was nearly overwhelming—“jerk who did this me?”

  “Whoa, nelly. That’s some strong language there, girlie.” Sarcasm dripped from every syllable. He chuckled . . . irritatingly. She was really starting to hate this fae.

  “Fine. Bastard! Asshole! Dick!” she yelled at him. Her cheeks heated.

  “Ah. Now that’s more like what I’d expect from a woman whose had all her free will taken away.” He gave a genuine laugh this time. “Still, take a tip from me. I wouldn’t be calling Kieran Aindréas Cairbre Aimhrea an asshole or a dick to his face. He’s got somewhat of a bad temper. Calling him a bastard is okay since he is one in the literal sense of the word.” He paused as if thinking. “In the figurative sense, too.”

  “Will he hurt me?”

  “Kieran’s got a bad temper, but I’ve never known him to harm a woman. Still, he’s holding your leash, so to speak, so it’s probably wiser to keep him happy.”

  “What does he want from me?”

  “All will be revealed once we reach the Unseelie Court.”

  Her spine snapped to attention and she gripped the seat in front of her, leaning toward Niall. “The Unseelie Court?”

  He cast a look of disbelief over his shoulder. “Did you think we were going to the Rose, the tower of sunshine, lollipops, and unicorns that poop rainbows? No fae with juice dark enough to bind and compel a human all the way across the country is going to be Seelie, woman.