by Conn, Claudy
“Yes, it is what I want.” Silently, however, she asked herself, Right? Isn’t that what you want? A part of her whispered, No, you want to stay and help fight against the Dark Fae. It is in your blood.
“Then I suggest, little Fios, you get to work and find the orb with your ‘sounder’ ability,” he said authoratively.
She pushed at him with all her might, but he didn’t budge, standing there like a huge, sculptured boulder, and she said agitatedly, “Oohh!”
“I have annoyed you, why?” he asked on a frown.
“You can’t help it—you are what you are,” she said on a heavy sigh.
“Well, of course I am. You have a knack for stating the obvious, Jazmine Decker.”
She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes. She wouldn’t think of him. Instead, she would do what her instincts told her she could do. Only once had she been put to the test. Her mother had a small pendent, handed down from mother to daughter for centuries. Oddly enough, the story went that it had been a gift from the Queen of the Seelie Fae, Aaibhe, for a service her ancestor had done.
Her mother had hidden it, and Jazz had located it with her ‘sounder’ talent, over and over again. She touched the locket now, but before she could proceed, Trevor moved in so fast the air rushed around her like a small wind. He took the locket in his hand and held it. “This … belongs to my queen. It is not only a Fae artifact, it is the queen’s loicéad. It holds very unique magical properties. What are you doing with it?”
She slapped his hand away. “It was given to one of our ancestors by your queen!”
“Why?”
“I don’t like your tone,” she answered, glaring at him. Didn’t he believe her? Did he think it had been stolen? Like anyone could steal something from the queen! Ha.
“You don’t like my tone?” he returned, looking both annoyed and perplexed. He shook his very handsome head while she studied him, but finally he grimaced and asked, “Very well then, do you know how to use it, Fios? Because I do.”
“Well, not sure. The family story was that we could call on the queen if an injustice against one of us was being committed. That is all I know.” She shrugged. “I just wear it because it’s pretty, and I used to think maybe it would bring me good luck.” She looked around. “Not so sure about that anymore.”
“Why did you think it would bring you good luck?” he asked, looking at her with obvious curiosity.
She thought for a moment. Her mother had given it to her the day of the accident, telling her to always wear it, as though she knew something was coming …
She had been thrown clear and lived. Luck was a double-edged sword. She lived, but she lost them. She returned her gaze to his golden eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Well then, what does this tell you, Jazmine Decker?” Trevor asked with a growing smile.
“I don’t know, but I am certain from the look on your face that you mean to tell me.”
“It tells you, little Fios, that we have found our way home—I think.”
~ Five ~
HORDLY STOOD AT the edge of the monoliths that hovered over the Middle Lake of Killarney. He was confused and looking for answers. What had gone wrong? Why had the dolmens been sucked into the past with him? Why had he been sucked into the past? And why the year 1816? Was it significant or just an accident of fate?
Dark Fae could not touch Seelie Fae relics. Nor could they successfully command them, but he and his brothers were not just Dark Fae. They had their father’s Seelie essence. They each represented a Royal House, and each had precious gifts. However, because the Dark King had used Dark Magic and the preserved genes of beings extinct in the Seelie’s beloved Danu when creating his sons, they were neither all Unseelie nor all Seelie. Thus, Seelie artifacts never reacted quite as they were supposed to when he or his brothers tried to use them. Was that the reason he had been sent back to this time period?
He had been careful not to touch the orb when he used the incantation, hoping it would not ‘feel or sense’ the Unseelie in him. He had been specific in the use of that incantation, limiting it only to the opening of the portal, a portal that Gais had used to travel to Killarney. Gais had been a Seelie Fae, and it had finally worked for him, but it had also worked for his brother Pestale.
Why then not for him? Was he darker—less Seelie than Pestale? Was he readily recognizable as Unseelie by the orb?
Without the Wheel of Being, the Dark King had needed more than his own and Morrigu’s essence to create true Fae, so he had implemented the use of the darkest magic he could find and combined it with the science he had perfected. Thus, the first of his sons, Pestale, had been created. Later, with the others, he had altered the method so that none were exactly alike.
Hordly knew Pestale had been favored in his father’s eyes. He had stopped caring about that centuries ago. However, now it seemed it was Graely that held the Dark King’s true affection. Graely, stupid, soft-natured dolt!
The Dark King had made small alterations when he had finally created Hordly and then Donworth, now dead by a Milesian’s hands. That alteration had given him fangs, but he liked that. He liked the feel of ripping something apart…
But all that didn’t matter. Soon, they would take over the universe. Their father didn’t care. He was off with his whore … his Crystal … evolving into pure energy.
He and his brothers had a secret they could use against the Seelie Fae. And that secret was a weapon—it was the fact that they had Seelie inside them waiting to be utilized!
The Seelie Royal had looked at him as though he were nothing more than an evil being, and that angered him.
He was more. Yes, he had wicked desires, but he also had the ability to feel affection. He had affection for his brothers and for Queen Morrigu, whose essence had been used to help create them. He had a sense of loss for the brother killed by the Milesian Lana. He was more than the Seelie Royal saw. But, he also knew, he had a strange desire, the need to feed on blood from time to time. It was because of the genes the Dark King has used when creating him …
He sighed over it. Soon, however, he would find a way out of the past, and then he and his brothers would enter the Human Realm and rule the whole damn universe, Faery included!
Freeing his brothers would be difficult because of his present predicament, but he would find a way. After all, it was he who had planned to keep Pestale from losing his memory. Pestale was whole because of him.
Because the Dark King had evolved beyond understanding, he had only been mildly interested in watching Pestale drink from the Cauldron. He had not really seen. He had not expected his third son to outsmart him.
Hordly smiled as he thought of the tray of water he had installed in the Cauldron. That tray held plain water from their Realm’s Dark streams and had been only mildly contaminated by the Cauldron’s magical libation. Pestale’s memories had been affected but not removed, and when the Dark King had withdrawn, as he always did, to his universe with his evolving human consort, he—not Graely, but he—had begun Pestale’s reeducation!
Now, he had to find a way to free him and Graely.
He’d also free Morrigu, who was quite mad, but was lover, mother, friend, and the only female being they had been able to enjoy for eons. She would finally have an outlet for her cravings, perhaps find peace once she was free of the Dark Realm. Pestale thought he was the only one who had affection for Morrigu, but that wasn’t so; Hordly also had some caring for her.
He had many purposes now, and one of them was to avenge his youngest brother’s death. Lana, the Milesian, had killed him. True, Pestale had killed Lana, but for Hordly it did not end there. He wanted to destroy every Milesian that existed. He could not rest until he, with their Dark Army, charged into their little human and Milesian worlds and took them down to the last child.
His youngest brother, Donwith, who had always made him laugh but would never make him smile again, had to be avenged.
Pestale had been with him at the portal
when he had been sucked back into the Dark Realm, but Hordly had found himself alone as he was spit out of the portal. He stood at its mouth and knew something had gone wrong.
What he didn’t want to do was return to the Dark Realm. He had to find a way of getting his brothers and Morrigu out from this side of the portal.
Ruefully, he thought it was better to be in the past than in the Dark Realm.
This would have to do. At least it would have been a partial answer if the Seelie Prince hadn’t appeared to make things more difficult.
He had never thought of himself as a problem solver. That had always fallen to Pestale. He had, however, surprised himself as of late, but even so, he didn’t want to charge into the human world alone. He needed his older brother and even his resistant brother Graely at his side. He wanted them all. They were familiar. His brothers and Morrigu had been with him for all time. All time? He sneered as he thought of the Seelie Prince, for he was old, so much older than this young Seelie Prince who dared to challenge him.
He would not make the same mistakes Pestale had made. Pestale would be dead if the Dark King had not interceded.
Pestale ‘felt’ too much. Pestale had doubts about how far he would go to attain his needs. He, however had no such doubts.
He had two problems to deal with: the Seelie Royal and the little human who was not quite human.
The little pretty had power.
He liked that. He also liked the look of her. Her form was more than pleasing, and something in her eyes caught his attention. She was more than human, less than immortal. Intriguing, and what was even more exciting was the fact that he could not seduce her with the Lianhan. He could, however, force her to have sex with him, and the notion was damned thrilling …
He was amused that she had managed to best him in their first encounter. He liked that. He had never been challenged by a woman before. Pestale would be surprised to see how well he handled the setback. Pestale thought him cold and calculating, and he was, but so much about him was growing. Each day in the Human Realm, even in the past, he was discovering more about himself.
However, he had not anticipated a Seelie Royal running him to earth like this so soon. He thought he would have had more time. Fate was a bitch, and apparently that bitch had somehow put the Seelie Royal in his way. He would take him down. It was just a matter of time.
If only he had the Death Sword that Pestale had managed to obtain. For now, he would have to do without this invaluable weapon.
When he got his hands on one, though—then the Seelie Prince would meet with death, and the woman would be his.
She was a beauty, a piece of artwork he would enjoy exploring. Perhaps he would even take the time and seduce her, use her … damn, but he wanted to use her! In the meantime, plenty enough peasant women awaited him.
A smile curved his lips as his cock distracted him from his goals. He turned back to the two women he had brought with him. They were lying in the grass playing with one another, calling to him. Did he have time?
He thought of the Royal Seelie and frowned. No, he would have to keep on the move. Leave the pretties. Time enough for more of that later, when he completed his plans and brought Pestale and Graely, and their Morrigu, through the monoliths. Soon, the stars would align and the future would be theirs.
* * *
“You think?” Jazz said in some exasperation.
“Indeed, how can I know for sure when I have never had it in my possession and, therefore, am uncertain just what it does?”
“Okay, but—” Jazz cut herself off and frowned at the scene taking place only a hundred feet down the road from where they stood.
A man was shouting at a child Jazz assumed was his daughter. She was a dirty little urchin no more than eleven or twelve years old. Jazz felt a moment’s irritation with the man, until she saw his hand rise and the child cringe.
Irritation turned to fury when the man smacked the child across her face and sent her flying backwards to land hard on the ground.
The beast of a man took hard, long steps to stand over her. He bent and grabbed the collar of her worn sack of a dress, but Jazz, using her hyper-speed, arrived in time to catch his attention by slamming her boot down on his foot.
He yelped and hopped on one foot, stood, and turned to her, a fist in the air as he bellowed, “I’ll kill ye, ye little tart!”
Karate was a human skill, and one that her father had made certain she acquire and perfect. She used it now and with great pleasure. Her leg came up and into position, landing him a round kick that sent him flying. He tripped over himself and went down, hard. Winded, he lay there while Jazz put the child behind her.
Visible now, as she was out of the prince’s circle of Féth Fiada, she stood in position, ready to dole out more.
The brute lifted his head and stared at her as he made his first attempt to get up, saying, “Eh … whot the hell?” He got to his knees and then rose from there. “Where did ye learn to hit like that? And wot be ye wearing there, she-devil?” His voice was hushed, and caution laced his movements now.
All at once, apparently thinking Jazz had just landed him a lucky blow, he released a low and ferocious sound as he charged, bent like a bull.
“Ah, foolish beast …” Jazz sneered as he paused. She waved him to bring it. “Come on and get some more.” She wanted to taunt him; he needed hurting, and she wanted to be the one to dish it out.
He completed the charge at her, all brawn and fury, and got his head kicked in for his effort. He lay there on his back again, but this time he was unconscious.
Jazz turned to the child. “Are you okay?”
“What is ‘okay’?” The girl’s Irish lilt was lovely, but her hazel eyes were bright with worry.
“It means are you all right?”
She nodded. “Aye, that I am, but when he wakes up, he will kill me for this … och, but he will.”
“No, he won’t. Is he your father?”
“No, I be an orphan, and he bought me from the orphan home … to help on his farm, last month.” She said this in a resigned tone, sounding so much older than she looked.
“Did he?” Jazz said in some disgust. “Well, you don’t belong to him anymore.”
“But I have nowhere to go,” the child said pragmatically.
“Yes, you do. You will come with me, and we will see about finding you a better home. How is that?”
“What are you doing?” Trevor demanded as he stepped forward and leaned into her.
“What do you think I am doing?” Jazz answered, thinking, Oh no, the child will think she is going crazy. One minute I’m here, the next I’m invisible.
“I can’t have a child in tow,” he answered. “And besides, we are not supposed to interfere in human matters and events.”
“Well, I am not bound by your rules,” Jazz said.
“A Royal,” the child whispered and reached for Jazz’s hand.
Both Trevor and Jazz turned to the child in shock, and Trevor asked, “You can see me, lass?”
She lowered her gaze and did not respond. Jazz bent to her and said, “It is safe. You don’t have to worry. Are you a seer?”
When the girl looked away and would not answer, Jazz realized she must have been taught never to reveal what she was.
She said softly as she took the girl’s chin and looked into her hazel eyes, “You don’t have to be afraid. This Royal will not hurt you. I know because I had to reveal to him that I am also a Fios …”
Startled, the girl’s eyes opened wide, though she still did not speak. Jazz continued, “That’s right. I can see Fae.” She waved towards the prince. “This Royal will not carry you off or harm you. Instead, he will keep you safe, won’t you, Trevor?” Jazz straightened as she turned to him with an arched look.
The prince released a low curse in Danu, but when Jazz pinched his arm he frowned at her and told the child, “Of course—isn’t that what we Royals do? Babysit?” He grimaced at Jazz and murmured as he bent t
o her ear, “Sure, what is one more piece of baggage?”
“Oooh,” Jazz seethed and glared up at him as he straightened. She played with her pendant and said, “Ah, but, Royal, I am the one with the charm, remember?”
He grinned suddenly. “So you are, though you haven’t a clue how to use it.”
She turned away from him and bent once more to the girl. “What is your name, sweetie?”
“Francine McGilley.” Her voice was quiet and still tinged with uncertainty as she kept her eyes focused on the ground.
“Well then, Francine, I am Jazmine Decker, and this big, handsome Fae is Trevor, Prince of Lugh …” She smiled up at the prince, noting that he appeared taken aback. She smiled to herself and said, “Oh, aren’t you used to being called handsome?”
* * *
Surprise raced through him. She had called him handsome? Well, of course he was, but until this moment he thought she was not aware of it. He frowned and then felt a wave of satisfaction. She thought him handsome. It shouldn’t matter, but perversely it did.
Jazmine Decker was complicating matters irrevocably for him. He spent too much time thinking about her, wondering what she was thinking, looking at her. Damn but he couldn’t stop looking at her. Everything about her attracted him to her. Her golden hair framed her piquant face … her nose, upturned slightly, and he constantly had an urge to touch it … kiss it, lower that kiss to her full, luscious lips and taste her tongue.
No time, absolutely no time for this.
And then he had stood back and watched her fight for the child’s well being. In that moment, he thought he had never seen a more beautiful creature in all his thousands of years.
He was affected by the child’s plight. He shouldn’t be, but there it was.
It was most disturbing.
He had always been very detached from humans, even more so than his brother, Prince Danté, yet he had felt fury establish itself as he stepped forward with every intention of picking the brute up and throwing him into another dimension.