by Bast, Anya
“Me?” Aislinn blinked. “Why me?” The question came out of her mouth before she could think it through, and she instantly regretted it. One did not question Caoilainn Elspeth Muirgheal; one simply obeyed.
The Summer Queen lifted one pale, perfectly arched brow. “Why not you?”
“With all respect due you, my queen, I think—”
“Do you have a problem with my judgment?”
Oh, this was getting more and more dangerous with every word the queen uttered. The room had chilled a bit, too, a result of the Seelie Royal’s mood affecting her magick. Aislinn shivered. “N-no, my queen.”
Gabriel glanced over at her with a mocking smile playing on his sensual, luscious lips.
Nope, she didn’t like him one bit, even if he did have sensual, luscious lips.
“That’s a good answer, Aislinn. Do you have a problem with Gabriel? Most women would kill to spend time with him.” The queen gestured airily with one hand. “I thought I was doing you a favor after your . . . unfortunate incident with Kendal.”
Oh, sweet lady Danu. Aislinn gritted her teeth before answering. “I don’t have a problem with him, my queen.”
The queen clapped her hands together, making Aislinn jump. “Good, that’s all settled then. You’re both dismissed.”
Aislinn turned immediately and walked out of the throne room, Gabriel following. Aislinn didn’t like having him behind her. It made her feel like a gazelle being stalked by a lion. He’d soon find out this gazelle had fight. There was no way she was going to lay down and show him her vulnerable, soft stomach . . . or any other part of her body.
The corridor was thronged with curious onlookers as they exited. Carina, partway down the hall with Drem, made a move to walk to Aislinn, but Aislinn held up a hand to stop her. All eyes were on her and Gabriel. She didn’t want to linger here, and she really didn’t want anyone listening in on their conversation and using it to weave rumor. They could watch Faemous for the juicy details, just like everyone else.
Gabriel surveyed the scene and ran a hand over his stubble-dusted, clefted chin. “Is it always like this over here?” His voice was deep and low, and reminded her of dark chocolate.
“Like what?” she snapped in annoyance.
He encompassed the thronged corridor with a sweep of his hand as they made their way down. “Is this all the Seelie nobles have to do? Stand around and gossip?” He glanced at her stern expression and sobered. “Never mind. Forget I said that.”
“Insulting my home is not a good way to start things off, Mac Braire.”
“Call me Gabriel, and I wasn’t insulting it. I was making an observation. I want to make this my home, remember? That’s why I’m here.”
“Sounded like an insult to me,” she muttered, hightailing it away from the clumps of Seelie nobles doing exactly what he’d just accused them of. She had to fight to keep up with the strides of his longer legs.
“I apologize.”
“How does the Shadow King feel about your defection from the Black? He can’t be very happy.”
Gabriel gave a low laugh. “He’s not. I’m taking a huge gamble. If the Summer Queen rejects me and I lose the protection of the Seelie Court, I may lose my head, too.”
“You don’t seem all that nervous about it.”
“Life is too short to spend in fear. Anyway, I’ve lived so long that I’m a thrill seeker. Anything to break up the monotony. Anything for change, Aislinn.”
The way he pronounced her name sent a shiver down her spine. He rolled it on his tongue like a French kiss, smooth and sweet as melting candy.
It made her miss a step and deepened her annoyance.
She picked up her pace and matched his strides once more. “Listen, I don’t know why the queen selected me for this job, but the last thing I want to do right now is babysit you.”
Ouch. That had been harsh.
She winced as the words echoed through her head. He hadn’t done anything to her, and she wasn’t sure why she was feeling so hostile. It had to be because of her recent breakup with Kendal. Gabriel reminded her of him.
Every man reminded her of him.
She still felt so raw and vulnerable. She needed time alone to lick her wounds and heal. The last thing she wanted was to be forced into spending time with an obvious womanizer who could wield sex as a weapon. Literally. Perhaps she was using this man as a scapegoat for her wounded pride and broken heart. If so, that was wrong . . . yet she couldn’t seem to help herself.
“Whoa. Look, Aislinn, if you feel so strongly about it, I’m sure I can find someone else to babysit me.”
She winced again. She was being a bitch and needed to rein it in. Maybe she’d misjudged him, and he was a great guy. After all, he bore nothing but a passing resemblance to Kendal. That wasn’t his fault. Regret pinched her, and she opened her mouth to apologize.
“It’s too bad you don’t want to spend time with me, though, since I have news of Bella and Ronan. They’ve been anxious to get back into contact with you.”
Danu. She nearly tripped and fell. Bella and Ronan? So they were at the Unseelie Court, after all. Aislinn had assumed they’d gone there but wasn’t sure whether or not the Shadow King had allowed them to stay in the Black Tower.
The Seelie Court was called the Rose Tower because it was constructed of rose quartz. The Unseelie Court was referred to as the Black Tower because—never to be outdone—it was made from black quartz. The delivery of large quantities of each had been allowed by human society and the Phaendir, and magick had been employed to make it useable as a construction material.
Gabriel walked ahead of her, intending to leave her in the dust. Damn the man! He’d tossed that last bit out and then left to punish her. He knew she’d chase him. Clearly her first impulse to dislike the man had been dead on.
“Hey.” She took a couple running steps to catch up with him. “I’m sorry. I’ve been unfair to you. You’re all alone and could clearly use a friend”—although she was sure he’d end up with plenty of “friends” here soon enough—“and someone to show you around. Let’s start over.”
He stopped, turned toward her, and lifted a dark brow. “Ah, so you do want word of Bella and Ronan.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I mean, yes, but I didn’t say that just to have news of them. This is about me being fair and giving you the benefit of the doubt.”
“Benefit of the doubt? What movie about me have you made in your head, sweet Aislinn? And without even knowing me.”
“That you’re a dangerous, arrogant, superficial man with piles of discarded, heartbroken female bodies to each side of the path you tread.”
They’d stopped in a large open area with a huge fountain in the shape of a swan. There were less people here. For a moment all was silent except for the sound of running water and the clicking heels of the few passers-by.
He studied her with hard, glittering dark blue eyes. “Your honesty is very refreshing. I’m sorry that’s your first impression of me. Perhaps I can change it.”
“Maybe you can.”
“A little too honest, that’s my first impression of you.” He narrowed his eyes. “And perhaps a bit jaded about men at the moment.” He loosely shrugged one shoulder. “Just a guess.”
Good guess. Time to change the subject. “Why do you wish to change courts anyway?”
“I’m surprised a pure-blood Seelie Tuatha Dé would ask such a question. I thought everyone here believed the Rose Tower superior in all ways. There should be no question why I wish to defect from the Black.”
Aislinn didn’t understand the twist to his words. It was almost—but not quite—mockery. An odd attitude to have when he seemed to want to join those he mocked for the rest of his very long life.
“Apparently Bella and Ronan have gone to the Unseelie Court. It can’t be that bad.”
Gabriel smiled. “Well, there’s no Faemous film crew there.” No. Apparently the film crew the Shadow King had allowed in years ago had
been eaten. “And the nobles aren’t as . . . prissy.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Prissy?”
He nodded. “The Unseelie Court is darker, and you have to watch your step.”
“So I’ve heard. Magick cast; blood spilled.”
“Sometimes. The magick is stronger, more violent, and held in higher regard. You know that. The laws are different there, and you must be careful. You don’t want to make enemies of some of them.”
Fear niggled. “How are Bella and Ronan?”
“Very well. They’ve adjusted to life in the Black. They said to tell you they’re fine, but Bella misses you. They say to tell you they’re happy.”
She studied him for lies. It was what she wanted to hear, of course, and Gabriel seemed the type to tell you what you wanted to hear. But she so wanted to believe what he’d said. She’d lost more than one night’s sleep worrying about her friends. The memory of watching them walk away into Piefferburg Square on Yule Eve, forever banished from Seelie by the Summer Queen, still made her heart ache.
Though the crime that Ronan had committed—taking work from the Phaendir—normally would have held the punishment of death. He’d been lucky. They both had. The Phaendir, a guild of powerful immortal druids, were the sworn enemy of the fae—Seelie and Unseelie alike.
There was good reason.
The Phaendir, with the full support of the humans, had created and controlled the borders of Piefferburg with powerful warding. They called it a “resettlement area.”
Piefferburg’s inhabitants called it prison.
If one wanted to be philosophical about it, the fate of the fae was poetic punishment for the horrible fae race wars of the early 1600s that had decimated their population and left them easy prey to their common enemy, the Phaendir. The wars had forced the fae from the underground, and the humans had panicked in the face of the truth—the fae were real.
On top of the wars, a mysterious sickness called Watt Syndrome had also befallen the fae. Some thought the illness had been created by the Phaendir. However it had come about, the result was the same—it had further weakened them.
The two events had been a perfect storm of misfortune, leading to their downfall. When the fae had been at their most vulnerable, the Phaendir had allied with the humans to imprison them in an area of what had then been the New World, founded by a human named Jules Piefferburg.
These days the sects of fae who’d warred in the 1600s had reached an uneasy peace. They were united against the Phaendir because the old human saying was true—the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Aislinn cleared her throat against a sudden rush of emotion. Bella had been the only one in the court who’d carried the weight of Aislinn’s secret. Really, Bella had been more of a sister than a friend. “Come with me. I’ll give you a tour before dinner.”
“Sounds good.”
They walked the length and breadth of the Rose Tower, which was enormous and completely self-sufficient. She showed him all the floors and how they were graduated in terms of court ranking. The higher floors, the floors closest to the Queen’s penthouse apartment, were where the Seelie Tuatha Dé with the purest blood resided. She showed him the courtyard in the solarium where the families with children lived so they could have yards to play in. The school. The restaurants on premise where the nobles dined. The ballroom. The numerous gathering areas and the banquet halls.
Most of the residents never really left the building for much beyond shopping or to have a night of dining out. Some of the more adventurous slummed it at a few of Piefferburg’s nightclubs, but the Summer Queen discouraged the Seelie Tuatha Dé from mixing with the trooping fae—those fae who didn’t belong to either court and weren’t wildings or water-dwelling.
While social contact with the trooping fae was discouraged, unchaperoned and unapproved contact with the Unseelie Tuatha Dé was strictly forbidden. Aislinn suspected more of the illicit sort went on than was widely known. After all, she suspected her own mother of it. There was no other way to explain away certain . . . oddities . . . in Aislinn’s magickal abilities.
She and Gabriel ended up at her front door. A good thing since she wanted her slippers, a cup of hot cocoa, and her own company for the rest of the evening.
Gabriel grabbed her hand before she could snatch it away. “Thank you for spending time with me today,” he murmured in Old Maejian, the words rolling soft and smooth like good whiskey from his tongue. He bent to kiss her hand in the old custom, his gaze fastened on hers. At the last moment, he flipped her hand palm up and laid his lips to her wrist. All the while his thumb stroked her palm back and forth.
That calloused rasp in conjunction with his warm, silky lips sent shivers through her. Made her think about his hands and lips on other parts of her body, which made her think of his long, muscled length naked against her between the sheets of her bed.
In a sweaty tangle.
Limbs entwined . . .
Bad incubus. She snatched her hand back.
He stood for a moment, bent over, hand still in kissing position. Then he grinned in a half-mocking, half-mischievous way, straightened, and walked down the corridor. Pure sex wrapped in black and adorned with a swagger.
She supposed the Summer Queen thought spending time with Gabriel would be good for Aislinn after her break up with Kendal. A little meaningless fling to get her back on the dating horse? But Aislinn did not do meaningless flings.
And she was definitely unappreciative of being saddled with a man like Gabriel Mac Braire.
Sweet Danu, what had the queen thrown her into?