by Lora Edwards
“Of course! When do we leave,” Teagan asked. “Armand offered me a job here at the institute this morning, a research position, but he gave me a few weeks to get settled into my apartment and get acclimated back into life here.”
“That is wonderful,” her mother exclaimed.
“Way to bury the lead,” her grandpa said grumpily, but he winked at her across the table. “I would love to have you here with me always, if that is what you want.”
“I think it is Grandpa. Now that I know all of this exists, it would be very hard to go back and not be able to learn more about it, to research the history and customs of the different supernatural cultures.”
“That’s my girlie.” Her grandpa smiled at her.
“Well Teagan, we can leave this afternoon, if you are open to that,” her mother said, finishing the last of her tea. “Your father and I have one more meeting so we will meet you back here in an hour, does that work?”
“Mom, that doesn’t give me much time to pack,” Teagan replied dryly.
“Don’t worry about that. The dress of the fae is a bit different from this world, especially for a royal. Everything will be provided for you. You are a princess.” Her mother winked at her. “Your room at the palace is ready and waiting for you.”
“Okay, it sounds wonderful. I’ll stay here with Grandpa for a bit,” Teagan replied, sitting back in her chair and taking another sip of her tea.
Teagan smiled as her parents left the room, her father putting his hand on the small of her mother’s back as they left. The sight of them being so much in love even after all this time was a sobering one for Teagan. She wondered if she would ever find a love like that.
Teagan reached for her phone and sent a quick text to Ovidia and Fiona to tell them of her plans; she would not want them to worry. She got a thumbs-up and a smiley face back from Fiona, and an Are you kidding me? I want to go next time! from Ovidia.
“Girlie, if you are done playing around on that contraption of yours, we can have a talk,” her grandpa said sternly.
“Sorry Grandpa, just informing people of my plans. I don’t want Mrs. Kendrick or Ovidia to worry.”
“What about Bran,” Hugh asked, pointing to the symbol around her ring finger. “I saw you trying to hide that from your parents. Anything you want to tell me,” he asked, arching his eyebrow.
“It’s not important. He doesn’t want a relationship, and when I get back from my visit, I will find out the necessary steps for the unbinding ceremony,” she said softly, looking down at the table.
“Is that what you want? Is that what the boy wants,” he asked gruffly.
“I know what I want, but he has made it very clear that he does not want me,” Teagan said, feeling tears fill her eyes.
“That mark there would say otherwise,” Hugh said.
“Well he says he is not ready for commitment, yet last night when I was out with Vid he pulled me out of a nightclub and flipped out because I was dancing with another man—just dancing! If he doesn’t want me then why can’t I do what I want,” Teagan asked, taking another sip of her tea.
“It sounds as if that boy doesn’t know what he wants.”
“Whatever Grandpa, he was quite clear that he does not want to be with me. Can we talk about something else?”
“Yes, yes, of course. Tell me about this job offer. I hope he offered to compensate you well?”
Teagan and Hugh spent the next hour on the more pleasant topic of her new job, the conversation soon turning to future research projects they wanted to pursue together. By the time her parents returned, Teagan knew she would enjoy her new position, despite her feelings for Bran; unrequited as they maybe, she was not going to give up a chance to work with her grandpa. She would not give up the opportunity to explore more about the supernatural world she had found herself thrust into, not to mention experiencing history first hand.
“Teagan, are you ready to be reintroduced to Faery?” her mother asked from behind her.
Teagan looked over at the waving lavender grass depicted in the stained-glass window and felt excitement rush through her.
“Yes, I believe I am.”
Her mother giggled like a much younger woman. “Wait until you see the men,” she said in a stage whisper.
Her father rolled his eyes.
Standing in front of the window, he raised his hand, barely touching the colorful glass, and a castle straight out of a fairytale appeared in front of them. Before Teagan could comment, he walked right through the window. It shimmered for a moment and then the material looked like glass again. Her mother followed him, and then it was Teagan’s turn.
The feeling of floating in a warm bath overtook her for a moment and when she opened her eyes, she was standing in an opulent sitting room.
She turned and looked at her parents. They looked like a younger, more ethereal version of themselves. Her father looked as he did when he had shown his true form to her at the Savoy. Her mother’s skin glowed, her cinnamon-colored hair flowing down to her waist. “Welcome back to Faery, Teagan,” they both said, smiling.
Chapter 24
Faery was enchanting, the skies a jeweled blue with cotton candy clouds, the grass every color of the rainbow. The old Irish legends did not do the land justice. The fruit shone like gems, the taste beyond description. Everyone was graceful and beautiful, always dressed in flowing fabrics in a kaleidoscope of colors. Music could be heard throughout the day and night, and the citizens of Faery loved to dance, not to mention the opulent feasts for each meal. She slowly became used to seeing a slightly different reflection in the mirror. Her face glowed, her thick curls shone as if lit from beneath, and her ears were slightly pointed.
Teagan danced with outrageously handsome men, ate until she wanted to burst, and draped herself in beautiful fabrics. Each new dress she wore was long and flowy, in colors never seen outside of Faery. Each one came with a matching pair of slippers made of the softest leather, along with a jeweled crown. The men wore doublets and hose, the women diaphanous dresses draped in jewels and gold. She felt a bit like she had been transported back to the 15th century, if the 15th century had every amenity one could imagine.
She danced, she ate, she laughed, and she spent much-needed time with her parents. Throughout the whole visit, Bran sat in the back of her mind. She loved him, wanted to be with him, but she could not change that he did not want to be with her.
It stung. Teagan, it admitted to herself, but she knew she would struggle past it and get on with her life. She would find someone else who would return her feelings. She may never love like she loved Bran, but no matter; she would not pine away waiting for some stubborn dragon.
The last night of her stay, Teagan stood on the balcony of the castle, looking out at the grounds. The stars were just coming out and unlike at home, they were all the colors of the rainbow, painted across a deep lavender sky. Teagan would miss this view. An incredibly talented artist had gifted her with a painting of the twilight sky, and she would hang it in her apartment to remind her of the beauty of this place between visits.
The next morning Teagan hugged her parents, promising to return soon. She raised her hand to the stained-glass wall and the glass tinkled, turning the image into her grandfather’s library. She stepped into the scene, expecting to see an empty room on the other side, but standing in the middle of the space was Bran.
“Princess, I didn’t think running away was your style.”
Setting her bag down, Teagan glared at him. “Running away? What’s that supposed to mean? You made it clear you did not want me, my parents offered to have me for a visit, and I went. I wasn’t going to mope around waiting on your next move,” she told him flatly.
“Nothing was clear to me Teagan, nothing,” Bran said heatedly.
“Bran, I cannot be on your emotional roller coaster anymore. I respect your decision, just leave me alone.”
Bran strode over and wrapped his arms around her. “That’s just it—I can’t
just let you be. You are all I think about. I cannot even think about looking at another woman. I want to be with you now and forever. I fought my feelings so hard and I was scared, but now I know I don’t want anyone else. You are the only one I want.” He leaned down, finishing in a whisper, touching his forehead to hers.
“I’m not sure what to do with this…it’s such an abrupt turnaround,” Teagan whispered, keeping her arms at her sides.
“I know that Teagan, but I talked with Hugh, and he said, ‘Boy, pull your head out of your arse and look at what you are giving up.’ This is me pulling my head out of my arse and looking at what I’ve got. We can take it slow, but I want you to know I will always be here.”
Teagan felt her heart expand in her chest and tears well in her eyes. Her arms crept up and wound themselves around his neck.
“Teagan, I love you now and forever, and when you are ready, I want to make your dragon mark permanent.”
Teagan smiled, saying a simple, “Yes,” before Bran swept her up and carried her out of the library to his rooms to show her how much he loved and cherished her.
Chapter 25
Teagan leaned over her balcony and looked at the beautiful knot garden that lay behind the institute. So much had happened in the past few weeks that she hardly recognized her life.
“Thinking deep thoughts, are we,” Bran asked as he came up behind her and put his arms around her, snuggling his face into her neck.
Teagan found a grin sliding across her face at his touch. “How was your meeting with Armand,” she asked.
“I will be going back to the Victorian era tomorrow to wrap up things in the Ripper case, do the final interrogation, and be available for the trial,” he said.
Teagan turned and frowned. “How long will you be gone?”
“A few weeks, but you are more than welcome to travel back and spend the nights with me. Remember, you are just a hop, skip, and a thought away from me.” He winked.
Teagan rolled her eyes but smiled. The past few weeks had brought out the playful side of Bran’s personality, and she was enjoying the relaxed turn their relationship had taken. Bran put his hand under her chin, lowering his head for a kiss.
“Dude, can you guys please stop the kissy face for five minutes,” Ovidia said, strolling out onto the balcony with them. “I understand that you are in loooove, but really.” She rolled her eyes, smiling as she did so.
She was happy for them, but watching them so in love caused an ache underneath her heart, one she refused to acknowledge. Instead, Ovidia slapped a bright smile on her face and pretended it didn’t exist.
“So, Bran, I hear you are going back to deal with all the final details in the Ripper case? I guess they want to make sure this one is sewn up tight.”
“Yep, leaving in the morning. I hear you have a new mission, something to do with pirates?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Yep, going back to the time of Blackbeard. Something about saving a siren. I haven’t got all the mission details yet,” Ovidia replied.
“Pirates? I love pirates!” Teagan practically squealed. “I need in on the research for this one.” Teagan moved to get by Ovidia—she was going to contact Armand right away to ask for the chance to do the research on the case.
“Slow down sweet cheeks, I already put in a good word for you with the boss. You and Hugh are going to handle the research—you guys are the best we have.”
Teagan hugged Ovidia and the squealing started again.
Ovidia rolled her eyes again. “Teag, stop, it is not that big of a deal.”
“Not that big of a deal? It is Blackbeard, sirens, and pirate ships.”
Ovidia held out her hand, knowing Teagan could go on and on once she got started with the historical details.
“We get the picture. I’m starving, are you ready for our dinner?”
“Yes, just let my grab my bag,” Teagan said, heading back into the apartment.
“You have any idea who I’m partnering up with for this one since you will busy with the Ripper case,” Ovidia asked Bran.
“I haven’t heard. I’m sure Armand will tell you tomorrow at the meeting,” Bran told her.
“Yeah, maybe it will be that cute selkie. We went out once but alas, no spark, but I wouldn’t mind looking at him for a few weeks,” Ovidia said, tapping a finger against her lips.
Bran grunted out a laugh as Teagan reappeared, bag in hand.
“Okay I’m ready.” Teagan had found her place in the world. She worked alongside her grandfather doing work she loved, and she and Bran had moved into her apartment, which had magically expanded to include him. Her happiness seemed to shine all around her.
“All right let’s roll. I’m thinking Italian,” Ovidia asked, looking at her companions.
They both agreed, so the trio walked to a small Italian restaurant located a few blocks from the institute. Laughing over ravioli, breadsticks, and crisp green salad, they raised a glass of red wine to enjoying good company without having the stress of catching a murderer hanging over their heads.
They walked back the institute, Ovidia saying goodbye at her door as the other two walked the few additional feet to their apartment. Ovidia again pushed away the feeling of melancholy as she watched them smile at each other, Bran’s hand resting at the small of Teagan’s back as they walked through the door.
Epilogue
For Ovidia, the next few weeks passed quickly. She spent time with Teagan, who had settled into her role as a researcher, happily spending her time getting a report ready for Ovidia and her partner. The best thing was watching her relationship with Bran blossom; it felt good to see her best friend settled and happy.
Ovidia felt confident in her ability to handle the mission, whoever her partner ended up being. At her meeting with Armand the night after Italian with Teagan and Bran, he had told her he was trying to find her a partner, but most of the other operatives at the institute were on assignment. Finally, he had sent her an email requesting another meeting, and she hoped it was to tell her who she’d be working with.
Ovidia walked into the outer office and smirked as she saw Cleo filing her lethal nails. Her nose had been out of joint since the news that Bran and Teagan were a mated couple had become common knowledge throughout the institute.
Ovidia figured the best woman had won and that Cleo, who was notoriously fickle, would move on to be in love with another soon—that is, until she found her true mate.
Ovidia had already found hers, but he had chosen duty over love, and Ovidia had vowed to keep her relationships casual from then on. She was not about to give another the power to hurt her as Erik had. Shaking off old memories, Ovidia pushed open the heavy carved door to Armand’s office.
“Ovidia, right on time as always. Please have a seat.” Armand greeted her with a smile on his handsome face.
Ovidia moved to sit in one of the chairs in front of the director’s desk.
“Ovidia, I think you have previously had the pleasure of meeting your new partner. Erik has graciously agreed to come back to the institute, and he will be partnering with you on this case.”
At the sound of that name, Ovidia froze and then slowly turned to see him standing next to the window. She felt her heart stop and then furiously start to beat again. After everything, he dared to return?
“Ovidia, it is good to see you again,” Erik said softly.
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Copyright © 2017 by Lora Edwards
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
T
his book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents, and dialogue are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
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Contributors
Edited by Ashlee Enz, and C.Marie
Proofread by Macie Kingery
Cover Design: BZN Studios
For Savannah
Prologue
The sea was moody, the frothy waves slapping against the shore in an angry rhythm. Delphine stood, arms crossed across her chest, watching a sea that mirrored her mood. She had been restless as of late, not finding comfort in her normal routine of reading, helping her father with matters of state, and taking her daily dip in the sea. She had been spending more time in the water, hoping the sea would soothe the restlessness in her. It hadn’t worked.
She worried this was the result of her human blood calling out to its own kind. She had been swimming near the boats that passed close to the island, not close enough to draw the wrath of the Sirens of the rock, but within swimming distance. She had found herself wondering where they were headed and what they would do once they got there. The need for adventure seemed to sing in her blood.
Delphine moved away from the window and the moody sea, pacing her suite of rooms. The balcony she stood on jutted off the loft. She had found a wonderfully ornate four-poster bed with brass castings, a tentacle canopy, and a brass crown on a ship that had been foolish enough to heed her sisters’ song. She had chosen every piece of art nouveau décor and the soft colors usually had a calming effect on her, but recently, nothing seemed to be able to quiet her spirit.
She had discussed this with her father, the king of the Sirens. He said her human, biological mother had possessed the same restless spirit. It was why he believed she had ended up on their island, washed up from a shipwreck. He believed her sense of adventure was the reason she had abandoned her husband and child to return to the world of her kind.