Wicked Enchantment

by Anya Bast

  He walked over and took the glass from her hand. His fingers brushed her slightly and it made her feel hot. “That’s basic. It amazes me how sheltered the Summer Queen keeps you.”

  A tornado of defensive rebuttal rose up in her throat, but she just swallowed it down. He was right. There was no sense in denying it. She took a sip of her wine.

  “Brigid Fada Erinne O’Dubhuir was the Shadow King’s mother. She ruled the Unseelie before her son took over. She was very powerful, very feared, and was allied with the Lord of the Wild Hunt. He was her consort, in fact.”

  She sank down into a chair, her fingers tight around her wineglass. “So, she had control of the sluagh?”

  He nodded and sat down on the couch. “The Lord of the Wild Hunt could call them, but it was Brigid who controlled and commanded them. As is the Shadow Royal’s right, she also held the amulet that allowed her to command and control the goblin army. She was invincible.” He smiled with that wry twist she was getting used to seeing him wear. “Or so everyone believed. Necromancy is one of the more feared abilities to have, the power to control the dead.” He smiled ruefully over the rim of his glass. “Everyone is afraid of the dead, of dying. A person who lives alongside that ultimate change and is friends with it is terrifying to even the most powerful fae.”

  “And to you?”

  “Death comes to us all.” He looked down into his drink. “It doesn’t scare me.”

  “What happened to this necromancer?”

  “Someone killed Brigid Fada Erinne O’Dubhuir during the night, in her sleep. Someone she trusted, someone who could get past the Shadow Guard. The Lord of the Wild Hunt was found guilty of that crime and executed. They say he was jealous of her power. Necromancy is not an easy path to follow.”

  She pressed her lips together and looked down at the floor. Every fiber of her wanted to tell him her secret. She wanted so much to trust him and now she was feeling she could.

  He downed the rest of his whiskey. “Aislinn, I know you want to tell me something. You can stop looking like all the answers to life’s questions are somewhere on the tip of that beautiful shoe I bought you and tell me. I already told you I know you’re more than you project, so why not just come out with it.”

  She plunged right in. “I think I have Unseelie blood. No. I know I have it.” She looked up at him, but he didn’t look shocked. Of course, why would he be? He was Unseelie, too. “I’m not sure where it comes from. My family is said to have blood straight from the veins of the original Seelie Tuatha Dé and the power I have . . . it’s very dark. I seem to have”—she swallowed hard—“a lot of Unseelie in my DNA.”

  He laughed. “Look, don’t say it the same way you’d say you had troll in your DNA. It’s really not that bad.”

  “It’s just that I wonder about my bloodline. How could it have Unseelie in it? I wonder who strayed, who lied, how it even happened.”

  “The Seelie and Unseelie mingle more than you might think. It’s more of a shameful secret in the Rose than it is in the Black. Tell me about why you think you have Unseelie blood, Aislinn. What kind of dark power do you have?”

  She leaned forward, excitement welling up in her. “Souls come to me. I can see them, talk to them. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and they’re there by my bedside, desperate for someone, anyone, to acknowledge their existence while they wait for the Wild Hunt.” Now that she’d begun talking, she couldn’t stop. She licked her lips and continued, unable to look at him while she spoke. She set her glass down on an end table and bolted up to pace. “It started when I was a child. I’ve never told anyone but Bella, not my mother or even my father. It got worse as I grew older because I never had any training, no way to control it.”

  “It’s not an uncommon ability among the Unseelie.”

  She glanced at him. “I thought you said it was a rare talent.”

  “Necromancy is a rare talent, Aislinn; being sensitive to souls isn’t. Necromancy is the ability to call souls from the Netherworld and control them, to make them do the summoner’s bidding.”

  She stopped and turned toward him. “But I can call them.”

  That made him blink. “You can?”

  “I found a—” She stopped and started again, not certain she should reveal the book to him. “There’s a spell. I said the words the other night and a soul appeared. I did it accidently.” She didn’t want to reveal whose soul it had been.

  “Under your command?”

  “I hope not.” She’d been excited at first, but now the thought turned her stomach, horrified her. “I don’t know. The soul disappeared almost right away. I would never try to call and command a soul. It seems kind of . . . rude.”

  He blinked and then gave her a slow, sexy smile that made her stomach flutter. “If you really think that, you would make a good necromancer.”

  “So what do you think?” She gazed down at him, chewing her bottom lip. Suddenly she felt the way a human might feel awaiting final word from her doctor on a serious health issue.

  Gabriel set his glass aside and rose. He stepped toward her. “I think you’ve got Unseelie blood, and I think it’s possible you’re a necromancer.”

  “What do I do about my ability?”

  “What do you want to do about it? You have two choices, Aislinn. You can stay here and bury your ability for your entire life and try to keep your secret. You can shop and go to balls and gossip in the hallways. Or you can take a risk, change all that you know, and come to the Unseelie Court to live free, develop your skills, and gain a purpose to your life.”

  Live free. She’d never thought of it in those terms. Her face probably showed it, too. Clearly she had some thinking to do. She needed to figure out what her goals were and prioritize them. She also needed to come to terms with the lifetime of mistruths she’d been told about the Black Tower and those who lived within it.

  “Know what else I think?” Gabriel said in a low voice. He stepped closer to her and hooked a tendril of hair that had fallen from her updo behind her ear. “I think you’re strong, intelligent, and powerful. I think you’re more courageous than you believe yourself to be and you’ll make the decision that’s the best one for you.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I have faith in you, Aislinn. Whether you stay here or choose to leave, you’ll be just fine.” He leaned forward and kissed her. This time it was soft, sweet—qualities she’d never imagined Gabriel possessed. His lips skated over hers, raising the hair along the back of her neck and goose bumps along her arms and legs. Her fingers curled into his shirt at his shoulders and she hung on for dear life.

  Gods, his kisses did things to her that no man’s touch had ever done. She didn’t think it was his magick enchanting her. She hoped not. From the first she’d seemed immune to it; in fact, it had made her dislike him. But was it possible his natural powers of attraction were working on her now?

  Yes, perhaps.

  But she didn’t care.

  Gabriel broke the kiss and set his forehead to hers for a moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Aislinn. You’ll be there for the queen’s verdict, right?” His voice was low and rough.

  “Of course I’ll be there. I’m your court companion.” She licked her lips. “You sound like you’re leaving.”

  He pulled away from her. “I am.”

  She lost her hold on his shoulders as he backed away and she felt the loss of the contact. Suddenly her apartment felt cooler and a little bit emptier. She reached out and touched his arm just as he turned away. “Don’t go.”

  He faced her. “Aislinn, I know what will happen if I stay.” His eyes flashed dark suddenly, like a thunderstorm passing through. “It wouldn’t be right. The longer I stay the more I want you. I need to leave now before I do something I’ll regret.”

  Shocked anger flashed through her veins. “Regret? You’d regret spending the night with me?”

  “Not in that way.” He tipped his head back and groaned. “Gods, not in the w
ay you’re thinking. I’d regret it for other reasons.” He hesitated, then looked directly into her eyes. “I’d regret it would be the last time I could ever touch you.”

  “That’s why I want you to stay. I know you’ll be gone tomorrow, so give me tonight at least, Gabriel.”

  He shook his head. “Not like this, Aislinn.” His voice had grown rougher. “Don’t tempt me.”

  “I’m confused. I thought you wanted—”

  He reached out and pulled her close. “Aislinn, I can’t. I want you, but it’s not a good idea. Not now.”

  His body pressed against hers took her breath away. She could feel that he was aroused. “I don’t understand.”

  “Me, either.”

  Now she was getting angry again. “Stop being cryptic and talk to me.”

  “Maybe I will take a taste of you before I go, Aislinn,” he murmured. “Just the flavor of you to keep on the back of my tongue. Something I can take back to the Black Tower with me. Something I can keep for a while and savor in my memories.”

  All her anger left her in a whoosh, along with her words and her ability to think. The way he looked at her, the intensity of his words, the low voice in which he uttered them—all of it combined to produce the most arousing, romantic thing that a man had ever said to her.

  He moved her back toward the couch and kissed her again. This time it wasn’t soft and it definitely wasn’t sweet. This kiss brought to mind bare skin and smooth sheets, bodies fusing in passion.

  His fingers skated down her bare back to the edge of the fabric just above her rear. “Ever since I bought this dress for you all I’ve been able to think about is taking it off.”

  “So do it,” she murmured, her hand straying to the tie he wore and loosening it. “I won’t complain.”

  Two little movements and the gown slipped off her shoulders to become a very expensive blood red puddle around her feet.

  She wore the lingerie he’d bought her beneath it.

  He backed up a little so he could take all of her in. His gaze swept her, heated and hungry. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmured. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Gorgeous enough to convince you to stay the night?” She kicked off her shoes, stepped away from the gown, and laid it over the arm of a nearby chair. She’d never owned something as beautiful as that dress and it meant even more to her because Gabriel had bought it for her.

  Then she walked to him, confident that he enjoyed the look of her body, mostly undressed as it was, and removed his tie. She worked the buttons of his shirt free one by one and pulled the tails from his pants as he tangled his fingers through her hair, freeing it to fall over her shoulders.

  She pushed his shirt off and took in the sight of his bare chest for a moment. He was any woman’s idea of perfect male beauty—muscled and strong, broad shouldered, with rippling abs. The kind of body that made a woman feel safe. Once his arms came around her, Aislinn knew nothing in the world could hurt her. Admiring him, she skated her palms over his chest. His skin was warm—silk over steel. A small amount of dark hair adorned it, tapering down his abdomen and disappearing past the waistline of his pants.

  Aislinn really wanted to follow that trail.

  His hands gripped the material of her slip and fisted in the silk. With a hungry sound in the back of his throat, he pulled her toward him—flush up against all that lovely male chest—and he dragged the slip upward. Silk slithered over her skin, up farther and farther. The sensation of it combined with the look in his eyes made her body respond, her nipples going hard and her sex heating. The simple act of undressing her was pure foreplay. Finally, he drew the garment up and over her head and let it puddle to the floor, and she stood before him with only air and light to clothe her.

  Making a low noise in his throat that sounded part appreciation and part torment, he kissed her, pushing her backward and down onto the couch. He knelt between her spread thighs, his hands slipping down over her breasts as his tongue speared into her mouth. Her nipples hardened against his palms and he petted them, exploring every ridge and valley with his masterful hands.

  She shifted on the couch, pleasure coursing through her and centering between her thighs with a need she wanted assuaged. She moaned into his mouth and he moved—cupping the back of her neck with one hand and dipping lower with the other, over her abdomen to between her thighs, where she so wanted him to touch her. He found all the sensitive, secret places of her body and stroked, until she wanted to purr like a cat.

  Finding her pouting clit, he petted it with his thumb until it bloomed beneath his touch. He dropped his head and his hot, wet mouth closed over one nipple and then the other. Giving each breast equal attention, he laved them with his tongue until they were hard and rosy and Aislinn was a hot, messy puddle of squirming need.

  Her hands moved over his shoulders and back, but every time she tried to unbutton his pants, he stopped her. She made a sound of discontent and he shushed her. Yanking her forward so her rear was just on the edge of the couch, he covered her body with his, slanting his mouth over hers and sliding his hand between her thighs once again. Suddenly she couldn’t remember why she’d been frustrated.

  He kissed her hard, his tongue stabbing into her mouth just as his fingers thrust in and out of her sex. The fabric of his pants rasped against her inner thighs with their movement, reminding her that he was still clothed from the waist down.

  “Come on, Aislinn,” he murmured against her lips as his fingers speared in and out of her. “Come for me, love. I want to hear you scream.” He found her G-spot deep within and stroked it.

  Pleasure rose and increased with the power of an oncoming train. He knew exactly how to touch her, just how much pressure to use, just where and how to caress her. He wanted to make her come, that was clear enough. He wanted it fast and powerful.

  It broke over her with a force she could never remember experiencing, washing through every pore of her body and mind, making her toes curl and her sex spasm around his thrusting fingers. Her back arched and she cried out. She could do nothing, think nothing. The only thing she could do was feel—and hold on through it as it went on and on.

  “That’s it, love. Good girl,” he crooned to her.

  Her neck arched as she moaned from the waves of it coursing through her, her head hitting the couch behind her. He nibbled her throat and breasts and whispered soft, dirty, almost unintelligible things to her, still stroking her sex, extending her orgasm as far as it would go.

  Finally it eased away and she slumped backward under the force of it. “Gods,” she whispered.

  She reached for him, wanting more of him, wanting him naked and his body against hers, inside hers. But he pulled away and gathered her up in his arms, drawing her to the soft carpet of the floor and kissing her temple.

  “Gabriel—” She felt so relaxed now, all the tension washed from her body by the stroke of his hands. Her limbs felt as insubstantial as the silk she’d worn that night.

  “Shhh, look, Aislinn.” He pointed out the window. The stars seemed especially bright. “Soon the Wild Hunt will ride.”

  She snuggled against him, enjoying the feel and scent of him and the afterglow of her orgasm. He felt so good against her, even half clothed. The sound of his breathing calmed her and the strength of his body made her feel safe.

  Soon she drifted to sleep. When she woke, she was in her bed, sheets and comforter pulled over her. Her gown and lingerie were laid carefully over a chair in her bedroom and her shoes were on the floor near them.

  Gabriel was nowhere to be found. If her body still didn’t hold a delicious tremor of memory from their encounter, she would have thought she’d dreamed it all.

  TEN

  GABRIEL inclined his head. “Thank you for your gracious invitation, Queen Caoilainn, but I decline. The Seelie Court isn’t a good fit for me and I intend to return to the Black Tower.” His words were blithe. Didn’t he realize the danger h
e’d just put himself in?

  For a moment Aislinn thought the Summer Queen’s head would explode. The royal stared at Gabriel, her face flushing and her eyes going wide and shiny. Her fingers tightened on the heads of the carved rose quartz dragon armrests of her throne. The silver and gold tattoo from the ring she wore, giving her the power due a Seelie Royal, flashed for a moment in the light. Her entire body, slight though it was, seemed to vibrate with rage and the throne room filled with the power of her emotion, making Aislinn’s ears pop.

  “You dare to reject me and my court?” the queen bellowed. Even the hundreds of guards lining the walls of the throne room jerked in the face of her voice. The sound of clanking armor echoed from their mass flinch. “You, an Unseelie degenerate, should be kissing my feet that I have allowed you entrance to the Rose Tower. Guards!”

  The Imperial Guards all moved with a combined thumping sound of boots on marble floor. Every hair on the back of Aislinn’s neck stood on end at the horrible sound. All of them had their hands on their swords. Visions of Gabriel’s headless body hitting the floor, a pool of blood spilling from his neck, filled her mind’s eye. It wouldn’t be the first time Aislinn had seen such a sight. It was always horrible, but it would be unbearable if it was Gabriel.

  “No!” The word jumped from Aislinn’s throat before she could stop it. “No, please, just let him leave.”

  The Summer Queen’s gaze swung to her like an owl that had just discovered a juicy mouse in the field. “Did you just tell me no? Me? Caoilainn Elspeth Muirgheal? Do you expect I’ll obey you, Aislinn?”

  Her stomach felt suddenly filled with cold gelatin. “If you harm him, I’ll leave the Rose Tower forever.” It wasn’t much of a threat, but it was the only one she could make.

  The queen laughed. It was a hollow, mirthless sound. “Is that supposed to scare me? Why would I care where you go, Aislinn?”

  That’s right; she didn’t care where her people went because they were all just puppets anyway. The queen had ensured her people hadn’t developed their magick, so they were really worthless to her in actuality. They were only here to populate the building, worship her, and uphold the tradition of the great Seelie Court of myth and history. More than ever, Aislinn could see that. Maybe she’d always known it on some level, but it had taken Gabriel to fully open her eyes. The truth was a cold swallow of bitter fruit and it turned her stomach.