Taken

by Jennifer Blackstream

  I found it after five minutes of searching, my trembling hands making it take longer than it should have, even given the pouch’s enchantment. I couldn’t get the thought of the spider out of my thoughts, couldn’t quit thinking about how close it was, those eight legs dragging it over Flint’s handsome face. I hoped some of this fear would linger, the way fear of sitting in a certain corner after finding a spider there lingered long after the spider had been dispatched. If I was going to be the seductive fey’s plus one, I would need all the resistance I could get.

  I was very, very glad I’d put my iron fortifications in the pouch. Flint wouldn’t feel them yet, so he wouldn’t be able to take them from me before taking me inside.

  Even after I found the anti-curse, it took three tries to reach in Flint’s direction, my fingers curling away from the arachnid I knew was there. I thought of the kids inside, the fate that waited for them. I shoved my fingers toward Flint’s cheek, speaking the anti-curse and wiping my hand through the air as if to rub away the ink. Magic pulsed against my fingertips, a warm comfort that wasn’t enough to make me forget my fear.

  “I believe you can open your eyes now.”

  I hadn’t realized I’d closed them. Flint’s voice curled around my ears, coaxing me to do as he said, to see the face I’d considered such a danger that I’d had to curse him to keep myself safe from it. I pried my eyelids open even as half of me wanted to keep them sealed shut.

  The spider was gone. No more enchanted tattoo, no more arachnid to scare me away from that handsome face. Flint must have read my expression, because his smile widened.

  “If that’s finished, perhaps we can get inside now?” Andy asked tersely.

  I tore my gaze from Flint, suddenly desperate to catch Andy’s eye. He wouldn’t look at me. Dread rolled through my stomach. Did he think I’d let Flint escape last time? Did he think we were lovers, and that was why I’d helped him get away with murder? I stepped closer, questions and explanations jockeying for position on my tongue. Warning bells rang in a far corner of my mind. I couldn’t have this conversation in front of the sidhe. And there was no time anyway. “Yes, we can go now. Right, Flint?”

  Flint studied me from head to toe, like an artisan butcher planning his first cut. “In a moment. First, we need to address your attire.”

  I cast a critical eye over my clothes. Black leggings and a long-sleeve black shirt with a high neck and an asymmetrical cut to the hem under my usual red trench coat. It was my version of dressy. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  Flint rubbed his mouth in a way I was sure hid a mocking smile. “Perhaps we should start with the…fanny pack?”

  I covered the pouch with both hands. “It stays.”

  He sighed. “All right. Let’s try this.”

  He stepped closer, and his scent washed over me. Warm skin, a ghostly hint of cologne, and something else. Anticipation, if anticipation had a scent. I hadn’t expected him to touch me, so when his hands settled on my shoulders, I jumped.

  “Easy now,” he said, his lips far too close to my neck for comfort. “Just relax.”

  Panic licked my nerve endings until they buzzed with painful intensity, but I was too startled to move. I stood there as he drew his hands down my arms. Magic tingled against my skin, distracting me enough that I forgot to protest as he brushed my hips, slid up my sides. My breath froze in my lungs as he swept his palms over my spine, down over the curve of my backside. He slid down my body, his face close enough that my palm tingled with the anticipation of slapping him. When he stepped away, the magic tugged and something broke.

  I stared down at the dress. Glamour. He’d woven glamour around me. I still felt my leggings and my shirt, but when I looked at my attire, I wore a black dress. A small black dress. A snug black dress. I was not a particularly skinny woman, though I had an hourglass shape that settled the extra weight in pleasing proportions. I scowled down at where my breasts were being offered up like some erotic banquet then glared at Flint.

  “You didn’t need to touch me to work the glamour.”

  Flint’s pupils dilated. “No.”

  I blushed, which only made me angrier. “I’m not wearing this. I’m not trying to blend in.” I didn’t bother swiping at the magic to get rid of the glamour. It was Flint’s glamour, and he’d hold it as long as it pleased him to do so. Unless I wanted to expend the energy to fight it.

  “If you’re done, perhaps we can move on to rescuing the children?” Andy said tightly.

  “Yes.” I jerked a thumb toward Marilyn’s house. “It’s time for you to hold up your end of the deal.”

  Flint held a hand out. “Shall we?”

  I glared at him, but reluctantly tucked my fingers into the bend in his arm. We walked toward the house, and Andy fell into step beside us.

  Flint frowned and stopped walking without letting go of me. “You are not coming.”

  “Yes, I am.” Andy spoke with complete confidence, a tone that said he wasn’t arguing, wasn’t wasting any more time.

  “No, you are not. I agreed to escort Shade inside, but there was no mention of bringing in a human.”

  “He’s coming too,” I said.

  Flint slipped his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo, his posture relaxed, as if he had all the time in the world. “All right. If you insist on his presence, then you will have to bargain for it. I am only permitted one guest, so arranging for your FBI agent’s invitation will be significantly more challenging. The price will, of course, reflect the task’s level of difficulty.” Something moved behind his eyes, a shadow of emotion. “I understand witches prefer to trade services. I no longer require your magical talents, so what will you offer?”

  His attention dropped to my chest again, and I clenched my teeth. “We are done bargaining.”

  He shrugged one shoulder, the gesture impossibly elegant. “Pity.”

  “I’m coming inside.” Andy took a step toward the house, but didn’t go so far that he wasn’t still between me and Flint. “I can go as a guest, or as an FBI agent. At this point, I don’t care which.”

  Flint straightened and angled his body toward Andy. “The bidding will start soon. Arguing, or attempting to force your way inside, will only waste your time and mine. You must decide now what matters more to you. Your presence at the auction, or the safety of the children you claim you’re here to protect.”

  Andy clenched his jaw, the grinding of his teeth audible in the silence. Restrained fury rolled off him in waves, hot enough I felt it burn against my skin.

  “Flint, will you give us a moment?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  I waited for him to stroll a few paces up the driveway, then said to Andy, “If I can get inside, I might find some excuse, some technicality, that will let me call the Vanguard. If they intervene, then we have a chance of getting all the kids out, tonight, safe.” I met his eyes. The last time he’d helped me, I’d left him behind to keep him safe. I’d forced him to stay behind. “If you aren’t okay with this, I’ll stay. But I don’t see another way in.”

  He obviously wanted to object, but he swallowed it back. “It is safe for you to go in alone?”

  “No. And it’s not safe for you to stay out here alone,” I said, deliberately not glancing in Morgan’s direction. “But I have Peasblossom. If something happens to me, she can contact you and the werewolves.” I stepped closer to Andy, hiding the side of my body from Flint’s view. I took the plastic My Little Pony out of my pocket and slid it into Andy’s. “Echo can do the same for you. Can’t you, Echo?”

  For a long minute, the ghost remained silent. She’d been quiet for so long. Maybe she’d left?

  “Yes,” she answered, her tone subdued.

  I wanted to ask her what was wrong. It was my instinct to ask what was wrong. But I didn’t have time. Not now.

  “Thank you.” I looked at Andy. “Don’t talk to Morgan if you can avoid it, but don’t be rude. Don’t make any promises; don’t give y
our word. Don’t ask her for anything.”

  “I remember,” he said. He glanced at Flint. “Be careful.”

  I nodded and followed Flint, trying not to feel like a sheep following the wolf into his den…

  Chapter 13

  “Everyone inside will see right through this glamour.” I picked at the dress. The illusion was visual only, so my fingers touched soft black cotton instead of whatever slinky material the dress imitated. “It’s pointless.”

  “Shall I take it off?”

  As I was sure he’d intended, his words set off a chain reaction of mental images. His hands siding over my ribs to my spine to reach the dress’s zipper, dipping in to caress bare skin as he peeled the material down my body. None of the images involved the cotton shirt and leggings I wore in reality.

  I toyed with the zipper of the pouch at my waist, thinking of the tube of iron filings. It would take five minutes of digging to find the damn thing, I was sure, but the thought of flinging them at Flint like some spiny, pain-inducing glitter made the idea tempting.

  You’re going into a fey stronghold. Don’t waste a weapon on the sleazy sidhe. Save it for someone who deserves it even more.

  Drawing on the shreds of my self-control, I resisted the urge to dust the overconfident fey. Instead, I focused on the looming main house and maintained an even stride as I spoke. “Your constant seduction is growing tedious. I appreciate seduction is your go-to social skill, but don’t you ever want to try something new? Something platonic? All social interactions don’t have to include nudity.”

  Flint chuckled. “I have platonic relationships,” he assured me. He caressed my fingers where he’d tucked them into the crook of his arm. “I simply don’t want that with you.”

  Again, visions of dusting him in powdered iron danced across my mind’s eye, and again, I resisted. Instead, I sighed. “I have a pair of black leggings with tiny paste diamonds all over the front.”

  A tiny furrow pinched the skin between his brows. “Indeed?”

  “Yes.”

  “They sound lovely,” he said politely.

  “I was wearing those leggings when I volunteered to help Maggie with her preschool group. Eleven four-year-olds in one room.”

  “A charming story. I’m uncertain why I’m hearing it now?”

  He led me past a square of pavement on the front lawn that held padded chairs and a low table for visitors who wished to converse outside. The large fire pit in the center was empty, but I could still smell the ashes from the last fire.

  “Those four-year-olds picked at my leggings all day. Those fake, twinkling diamonds called to them, pulled them from across the room to poke and scratch at them. Even when they’d only come up to ask a question, even when they didn’t seem to notice the bits of plastic, their little hands would rise to pluck at those damn diamonds.”

  A car holding a sidhe couple drove by us, slowly enough I glimpsed blue-tinged skin and pearlescent eyes. Flint gave them a half-wave, then glanced at me.

  “I think I see where this is going,” he said.

  “You are one of those four-year-olds. Constantly tugging at my pants.”

  He barked out a laugh, a warm, genuine sound that contrasted with the seductive chuckle he’d been using. He patted my hand. “Shade, if I were a less confident man, I’d think you don’t care for my attentions.”

  He stopped, so suddenly that I let out an embarrassing yip. Strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against him before my brain could compensate for the sudden change in position.

  “That tattoo of yours was more difficult to remove than I expected,” he said, his face close enough to mine that his breath caressed my cheek. “An expensive spell, I’m certain. Do you know what that tells me?”

  “The vampire pays well?” I said, cursing the breathlessness of my tone. “You remember Anton Winters. The one who warned you to leave me alone?”

  Flint’s jaw tensed, but then he relaxed. A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “He suggested I not initiate contact with you. He can hardly fault me for coming to your aid. What sort of gentleman would I be if I denied you my assistance?”

  He leaned closer and ran a finger over my jaw. “And if you enjoy my company and seek me out again…and again… Well, it would be rude to refuse you.”

  The ring on my finger grew warmer as the magic flared in response to the threat of his power. I swallowed hard, but didn’t give him the satisfaction of retreating. He wasn’t pressing hard enough to pierce the ring’s magic and cloud my mind, but he could. No reason to goad him into it. Not when my hormones were doing most of his work for him. I blinked. Had he been that close a moment ago?

  “Stop breathing on me,” Peasblossom snapped. “You’re taking the curl out of my hair!”

  Gratitude flooded through me on a cooling tide as my familiar poked out from behind my neck. I wasn’t even mad she’d disobeyed me and revealed her presence.

  Flint jerked away, but didn’t release me, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “Hello.”

  Peasblossom stomped onto my shoulder and faced him with her arms crossed. “Hello. Let go of my witch.”

  Flint blinked, his gaze bouncing between me and Peasblossom. Slowly, he stepped back. “I thought I made it clear. You only bargained for an escort for yourself. You said nothing of the pixie.”

  Peasblossom dropped her arms, her tiny pink face twisting in rage. I winced. I almost felt sorry for Flint.

  Almost.

  “Escort? Escort? You think I need an escort?” Peasblossom flew into the air, wings a furious, constant buzz as she flew straight at Flint’s face. His eyes widened and he leaned away, but Peasblossom kept pace with him, not moving more than a millimeter from his nose. “I suppose next you’ll be suggesting I need an invitation? That I can’t go where I please? That pixies can’t go where they please?” She rose higher in the air, scanning her surroundings as if searching for more of her kin. “Perhaps it’s time we reminded you bigjobs of your place. Of our place!”

  A flicker of panic tightened Flint’s features before he composed himself. “I meant no offense, small beauty. You surprised me, that’s all.” He smiled. “But clever and sneaky as you are, you’re no doubt accustomed to surprising people.”

  “Don’t flatter me.” Peasblossom lowered herself to my shoulder and sat down with a thump, still glaring at Flint. “Keep walking. We have important business to see to.”

  I crossed my arms, mirroring Peasblossom, and smirked at Flint. “You heard her.”

  The expression on the leannan sidhe’s face promised that our conversation wasn’t over. Butterflies swarmed my stomach at the thought, and I straightened my spine before marching toward the front doors of the sprawling country club. I would need a plan to discourage his attention, since I was certain he was plotting a way to stay in my circle.

  We arrived at the front door, and Flint held it open for me as he guided me inside. A breeze from the large foyer carried an interesting mix of paint, wine, and wilderness. Wood floors stretched out before me, the dark brown panels polished so they reflected the light from the large windows. Matching wood pillars supported wide arches over doorways and in tasteful clusters throughout the room.

  “Isn’t it pretty?” Peasblossom said.

  I followed her gaze to the wall. Alcoves set into the plaster held rich soil and growing plants. The artificial lights mimicked small suns, coaxing waterfalls of pink and blue blossoms to spill out from the alcove to brush the floor.

  “That would be our hostess,” Flint murmured, motioning ahead of us.

  I followed his gesture, gazing through a set of archways to an open room in the rear of the building. A woman stood facing the front door. Unlike in human society, when the hostess might stand near the door to greet her guests, fey hosts liked to make their guests cross the room to meet them. It gave them time to compose themselves, decide how to treat each person.

  It also gave them time to assess the threat level.

 
; Our hostess for the night was a statuesque blonde sidhe. She stood at least five nine, and her hair shimmered like flame when the firelight struck it. Flowers covered the upper half of her lithe, pale-skinned body. Soft, silken petals clung to her breasts, spilling in twin lines over her collarbone to connect with the clasps of a sheer blue cape that flowed over her back to spill onto the floor. A thick trail of flowers led from her left breast to the skirt, a match to the cape in color, but thicker, offering only a glimpse of the naked flesh beneath. It wasn’t until a small part of my brain noted her lack of underwear that I realized I was staring.

  I jerked my attention to her face as she lifted her head in laughter at something the man beside her had said. The light struck her eyes, and I froze.

  It was like viewing the moon through a glass of crushed sapphires. Multifaceted, mesmerizing. So beautiful…

  “Best avoid her eyes,” Flint murmured. “Marilyn has a dazzling stare, and she is at the height of her power right now.”

  I turned my head, but the memory of her eyes danced in my mind, shining a light into every dark corner. Inspiration rose, granting me a moment of perfect clarity. I sucked in a breath. “Leannan sidhe.” I scanned the room, noting the guests, their beauty, their power. Many of them had similar sparkling gazes. “They’re all leannan sidhe.”

  “Yes. You didn’t know?”

  “I knew this was a sidhe gathering, put on by one of the larger houses, but I didn’t realize… Is Marilyn the hostess this year, or every year?”

  “The annual auction was her idea. She hosts every year.”

  Another thought followed on the heels of the first. “Are all the kids sold to leannan sidhe?”

  “Yes. The bidding for the art is open to all, but only leannan sidhe can bid on the artists themselves. At least, until they are no longer deemed worthy.” He smiled. “If you’d like to know why—”

  “It’s patronage.”

  Flint scowled. “She’s inspiring you, isn’t she?”