by Conn, Claudy
“Well, Chance, if you have a plan, it would be nice if you let me in on it,” complained Trevor, while Royce silently took it all in.
“When I know enough … when I know more, so I shall, lad … so I shall.”
Royce’s brow went up as she watched Chance turn on his sandaled heel and, without another word or explanation, stomp off.
Trevor gave her a crooked smile, shrugged, and said, “I tell you what, Red. I don’t know what is going on with that Milesian. Sometimes I just don’t understand him.”
Well, here was the thing, thought Royce. She was beginning to see just what Chance was doing. He wanted to draw the Dark Prince out. Keep him wondering what his little team meant to do next.
It might work. The Dark Prince was arrogant enough to believe that they didn’t stand a chance in hell of getting to him. Fine—let the Dark One think that.
Deep in thought, she left Trevor to his own devices and took a walk along the edge of the lake. She wanted to formulate a plan from the tendrils of her last vision. She needed to gather what she knew and put it together with what she had seen and felt. She needed to concentrate and remember everything she had noticed from when she saw him leaving the hotel to the moment they had locked eyes in her more recent vision.
She already knew that tracking black magic was next to impossible—for most Fae. She smiled to herself because she wasn’t ‘most Fae’. She was a princess with unique abilities. Her family’s house was Nimrough, which meant ‘the hunters’.
To hunt, one needed many abilities, and those abilities centered on earth, water, wind, and fire—just the elements she could wield to advantage. She put out feelers, stretching her senses and becoming one with the breeze. It worked all too quickly. She was suddenly engulfed in a cloud of darkness and mist.
She knew almost immediately, and too late, her magic was being turned on herself. Pestale had used his own brand of black magic at that very moment.
She felt its biting touch as the dark mist surrounded her. However, she had to pretend weakness. She had to give into it if she was going to follow it to the source.
She opened her eyes and realized she was no longer standing at the edge of the lake!
* * *
Chancemont made his way towards a cluster of oak trees and stood in their midst, looking up at the heavens and chanting. He paused after a moment and conjured up a fire in the center of the circle he had created with his mind. He watched as the flames lapped up air and then burned blue.
Trevor came up behind him and said, “You can’t leave me out of this, Chance. Either I’m with you or I’m not.”
“I am calling on the spirits of my ancestors to help us track. They might not like a Fae around,” Chance answered grimly.
“Well, I’m sure they can deal with it.”
“Do ye think that, indeed?” Chance said ruefully.
“I do. If they are powerful enough to help you, then they will immediately know you and I are on the same side.”
“Well then, lad, we’ll just have to wait and see …” Chance turned back to the high blue flames and whispered the chant once more.
A soft breeze touched them, and a voice to match asked, “What do you need, Milesian?”
“Help,” he answered laconically.
“Of course, but we are Spirits of the Light. We cannot help you seek revenge.”
“But you can help me find the Dark Prince. You can point the way,” Chance answered defiantly.
“No, we cannot. Your purpose forbids us.”
“My purpose is justice!” Chance snapped irritably.
“Your justice,” the disembodied voice answered softly.
“Would you have the devil’s evil loose in the world?” Chance shot back.
“Will you contain his evil or put him to death, Milesian?” After a slight pause, the voice then said, “Ah, we have our answer—it is there in your heart.”
“But … he will harm so many unless we put a stop to him!” Chance pursued.
“Fate is what it is—we don’t condone or aid the spilling of blood. Come to us for truth and light.”
And as gently as the spirits of the light arrived, they left.
Chance kicked at the fire and cursed harshly, “Hell bloody hell!”
“Come on—let’s get Red and figure something out …”
Chance eyed Trevor speculatively. “That is another thing. You say you loved my sister, yet you seem very … close to the wee princess. You call her Red and speak in intimate terms with great affection in your voice.”
Trevor snorted. “Royce?” He shook his head. “Royce is like a sister to me.” Trevor grinned. “We grew up together, and I think I have always called her Red, for her hair.”
Chance said nothing to this but looked around. “And where is the wee lass now?”
They looked back towards the lake and saw there a dark cloud hovering only a few feet over the grass but no sign of the princess!
* * *
Royce was in trouble, and she knew it.
Something had a hold of her, and although she tried, she couldn’t break free. Her Death Sword was thankfully within her sphere and easily called should she need it, but she was momentarily trapped in this thick, dark, damp cloud!
She looked around, and the only thing she was sure of was that black magic was at work—it was all around her.
She felt a stinging sensation as the mist drew her deeper inside and seemed to rise off, well off the ground with her. The Lower Lake below began to recede from her vision, and as she was drawn deeper into the dark cloud, she lost sight of it completely.
She was being sucked in by a force wrapped around her body like a second skin, and she had to acknowledge it was damned terrifying. Dark Magic of the basest kind had a hold of her as she tried to break free.
She spread her arms out and called on the elements, but a shield between her and the atmosphere outside the cloud interfered with the process.
What kind of black magic was this? She suddenly realized she had the power to shift out whenever she chose. However, she didn’t choose. She wanted to take this ride, test it, find out what it locked away, and perhaps gain a step up. Knowing Dark Magic was the way to defeat it …
Suddenly, two strong, tattooed arms enfolded her and molded her to a male body. She felt featherweight in his arms, and she knew … it was Pestale. He was holding her in his embrace, and his voice was wildly enticing as he whispered softly in her ear, “My very own Seelie princess …”
Okay, so not good. What exactly did he mean—his own Seelie princess? What was that all about? She was off the ground, high in the air, and floating around with the Dark Prince—not exactly a way to control him.
Could she kill him? Was she mentally and physically ready to unsheathe her sword and put him to death?
No. Chance had been correct, so correct, when he had told her she wasn’t a killer. She wasn’t—at least not yet. There was no telling what she would become when the need called.
However, she wasn’t prepared to kill just yet. There had to be more diplomatic ways to control the Dark Prince. There had to be. She would have to concentrate to get herself out of this without using violence.
She squirmed around in his arms so she could face him as he held her tightly in his embrace. She looked up into his penetrating black eyes, felt the challenge of his magical strength. She was momentarily taken aback. She had known that his Dark powers would be a force, but she had not expected him to exert such hypnotic charm. His smile was absolutely beautiful. His eyes promised something she knew he was not capable of feeling—love.
She calmed herself, for fighting with him at this moment wouldn’t work. What she needed was another tactic altogether.
She said as flirtatiously as she could muster, for she’d never believed she was any good at the art of dalliance and had not had very much practice, “Hello, big boy …”
He looked at her with some surprise and chuckled, and she hurriedly followed up with a
tease in her voice and a saucy glint in her eye, “Just what are you doing?” She ran her hand up his naked, hard, and rippled chest.
“Whatever you wish me to do with you, here and now, beauty,” he said softly.
“Well, I would like you to put me down on terra firma for one thing …”
“Not now, now when I need to stare into your eyes … such eyes … aqua lit with silver and captivating.” His voice was a soft caress.
Why did his voice have to be so lush and beautiful, she thought ruefully. He threw her off balance. He shouldn’t have such a wonderful, sexy voice. He should sound as wicked as she knew he must be. She continued to dally with him as she said, “And are you … captivated?”
He grinned, and she noted that grin was devastatingly inviting, alluring—and told herself to be on guard.
“Is that what you want—to enchant and seduce me? For if so, consider yourself successful. I am yours …” he said quietly and with a glint of passion in his dark eyes.
She told herself to remember that he was the one who was the master seducer. She smirked. “Oh, I am not so easily taken in, Dark Prince. I am weaned enough to know that you will never belong to anyone.” Pander to his ego, she told herself, as her instincts kicked in.
He chuckled. “True, but if you come with me now of your own free will, I will pledge myself to you.”
She stared at him and frowned. “Why? Why me … when you obviously can have so many?”
“Because the moment I saw you, I felt … something … and I am not capable of feeling very much, so you must understand that I am intrigued.”
She was surprised to discover that she almost believed him. She knew better than to believe a dark and twisted mind when it spoke, didn’t she? Of course she did. She shouldn’t believe anything he said. He was evil, he was, and would always be self-serving …
And he was certainly cunning.
He would play with her sense of self. He would flatter her into thinking she was the only female who had ever ‘intrigued’ him. He would attempt to remove her guard, and then what? Just what did he want with her? Dawning lit in her active brain. “Ah, you want a Seelie Fae princess at your side, to add to your consequence and power,” she concluded, saying it as much to herself as to him.
A short laugh escaped him before he acknowledged, “Of course, but I want that Seelie Fae princess to be you. You are the one in my thoughts—you are the one I want to undress and take to my bed.”
“Because I’m handy.” Her eyes narrowed. His bed? What was this sudden talk of bed? She didn’t like that—not one bit. She pulled a face at him as she suddenly realized he was done talking.
He had bent his head as he held her in his steel grip, and his mouth took hers with a demand that was forceful and yet managed not to give her pain. He nibbled just a bit more roughly as he parted her lips and plunged his velvety tongue inside her mouth, and for the flash of a moment, just a moment, she saw into his mind!
She allowed him his kiss because she was in his head, in a place where a whirlwind of bitterness, hatred, need, and something else swirled and raged …
He lifted his head away from her and laughed without mirth. He was angry. She had invaded a private part of him that he had never meant to reveal to her. He disguised his anger with the softness of a smile.
Once again she thought that evil should sound and look like a living horror so that one could immediately recognize it and arm oneself against it. Evil should have fangs dripping with blood and a cold, shark-like killer look.
One should know beyond a shadow of a doubt when facing evil that one’s life—even a mighty Royal princess’s life—could end by that evil’s hand … or thought.
“You will want me in the end—need me, as I want and need you …” he whispered into her ear, his voice a gentle caress.
His aura had a very definite seductive and sensual quality that was unquestionably appealing. She looked up into those glittering black eyes and reminded herself just what he was, just what he had already done to so many humans and Fae alike. She had to get away from him, for suddenly she felt as though she were about to be ill with disgust at herself for almost doubting his wickedness. She bolstered herself with another plan.
It wouldn’t be easy to employ a tactic while still floating in a space of indefinable mist and fog. But she had to. He was absolutely beautiful, and his smile enveloped her as he held her in his arms and whispered words of devotion. He sounded so sincere that she had give herself a shake and remind herself just who she was dealing with.
She put a hand to his chest and asked, “Where are we now, Prince? How—no, why are we … er … floating about instead of standing on solid ground?”
When he answered by kissing her neck, she struggled to pull away. He laughed and said, “You flirt, but you don’t follow through.”
“And how could I want to? You take me by surprise and hold me in this … just what is this … and …”
“And I mean to make you mine, if not now—soon,” he said simply.
“Could we stand on solid ground while you make the attempt?” She pulled a face at him, and he laughed out loud.
“Oh, but you amuse me as well as work my lust,” he said on a low note.
She eyed him and mentally slapped herself. This seducer was handsome and sounded so gentle, but she knew different. She knew what he was, she reminded herself, and yet … she felt a moment’s empathy for him. After all, he laughed, he teased, he … and here was the crux of it, her mind cogitated worriedly; her compassion and willingness to always see the good in someone, anyone could get her into deep shit.
“Well … ? Will you set me down?” she urged.
“I cannot. We are in a dimension I call the ‘in-between, where time stands still.”
“How … ?” she started to ask, shocked to her core. Time travel was something only the queen could accomplish, and even the queen had been unable to accomplish it in recent years.
“Ah, I may be Unseelie, but I was created by the Seelie Dark King. My powers are quite unlimited when combined with the Dark Magic I have perfected over the centuries.” He stroked her face. “One day I will rule the earth with my Queen Morrigu and my brothers. You will sit beside me, as I have chosen you, but for now, I need a place from which to work my … plans, and this simple but perfect dimension suits me.”
“But—”
“Be quiet, Seelie Princess,” he admonished and clucked his tongue. “You must know that I don’t wish to wage a bloody war on humans. I will enslave them, yes, but with mental persuasion. They will be easily controlled when the time comes. It is the Seelie Fae that must be conquered—and I shall start with you.” Suddenly his tone, which had become grim and displayed some of his ruthlessness, softened once more. “Indeed, beautiful Princess … I shall start with you …”
She struggled as he bent once more and left a blazing trail of kisses across her neck, to her ear, and back to the hollow of her neck. Then he startled her further by pulling at her tank top.
She pushed at him. “Hold it, Pestale—or do you mean to take me against my will?” They were her words, but she acknowledged to herself that his kisses, his touch, and his aura had an effect on her. Curiosity flooded her veins, he damn well knew it, and she was shocked by it—by her reaction to him.
He chuckled and touched her chin. “You are but a child, untried … I shall enjoy introducing you to pleasure.”
“You think you can conquer the Seelie Fae?” she said, changing the subject. “But you have set yourself an impossible feat.” She watched him for a reaction to her words. Had she drawn on his temper—would he lose control?
“Have I? And yet, here you are, in my arms …” he said, and his lips brushed against hers. She had to get away from him immediately.
“Do you think I can’t leave whenever I want if I put my mind to it?” she answered him sharply, trying to draw on his fire.
“Can you?” He smiled, but she felt something beneath that smile, som
ething dark and ever ready to explode.
“Yes, but …” she answered flirtatiously, “your question should have been … do I want to leave you?”
He smirked, but his dark eyes lit up. “Do you take me for a fool, little Seelie? Do you think I don’t know what you are doing? And did you think I don’t realize it will take time to make you truly mine?” He shook his head. “But I will play your game, so tell me, my rare one, do you wish to leave me?”
“Yes,” she said and immediately found the magic to break free and shift. She had had this power all along, and now he would know and not be fooled the next time. Her shifting brought her back to the Lower Lake, and even as she felt the earth beneath her sneakered feet, she heard his angelic-sounding laughter fading into the atmosphere.
Then his voice whispered darkly in her ear, “Ah, my Seelie beauty, there are consequences when one is rude to me, and leaving me like that—very rude.”
That had the ring of a threat, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it as something else entirely grabbed her attention.
She had shifted to the very area where she had been before he had taken her, but Royce discovered a kicker to the scenario. She should have been in the present—her present, but she wasn’t.
She was in the past.
She looked up the slope to see herself, Trevor, and Chance just before he stalked off.
Oh, so very bad.
But this incident had taught her something: events in the future could be changed, because this time she did not go to the lake alone; instead, she ran away from it, and the other her vanished as she ran towards Trevor and Chance and screamed for their attention.
This time, Pestale had not scooped her up and taken her off for a repeat performance, and yet oddly enough she retained a memory of the entire experience. She blinked as she tried to put logic to it.
Should she tell Chance and Trevor? Yes, yes, they needed to know, and she wasn’t sure she could handle all the new information on her own. Time travel, no matter how you looked at it, in the Dark Prince’s hands would be the worst kind of nightmare.