“You’re healthy enough,” Maggie told her, and made a mental note to talk to Nora about this. If Nora ever came home. If Maggie got home in one piece. If Mab didn’t kill her and take over the world.
If, if, if . . .
“Don’t go,” Culhane said. “Not yet.”
“Yeah, let’s stay, Aunt Maggie. If we’re not going to talk about sex, you could show me Otherworld.”
Culhane sighed as his chin hit his chest. “Very well. I suppose you might as well go now, after all.”
“Tough luck for you, Culhane.” Bezel patted the other man’s arm until the warrior snarled at him. “Hey, at least one of us is getting lucky.”
“Pay no attention to him.”
“I never do,” Culhane assured Maggie.
“Good. And I’m sorry things went a little wonky here in the last few minutes.”
“Hah!” Bezel shook his head.
“Don’t you have a wife to go visit?” Maggie demanded.
“I’m in no hurry. Things’re just getting entertaining around here.”
“Eileen, go look out the window,” Maggie said. “Take Bezel with you. And no leaning!”
When her niece and the pixie were safely across the room, Maggie moved in close to Culhane. He looked so cute. And frustrated. Which she really understood. God. She was thinking nice things about him again, and she wasn’t entirely sure she was through being mad at him. Oh, it was really time to leave. But before she went . . .
“Answer me one question,” she said, cutting off whatever he might have said. “Is Nora safe? Be honest with me about this, Culhane, or I promise you when I am queen I’ll make your next millennia a living Ifreann.”
“She’s safe,” he said. “And will remain so—”
“As long as I do what I’m supposed to.”
“Yes.”
“Forty-two percent of blackmailers end up getting shot in alleys, you know.” Eileen wandered back from the window.
“Where does she get this stuff, anyway?” Bezel demanded.
“I need a few days, Culhane. Am I going to have to fight you for them?”
The silence in the room pulsed with life—animosity and curiosity, heat and need. Finally, though, Culhane spoke up and shattered it. “No. You can go.”
He lifted one hand to open a portal, but Maggie stopped him with a grin.
“Wait,” she said. “Let me do it.”
“You can do one, Maggie?” Eileen moved in close. “Ohmigod, that’s so amazing. Can I learn how to do it, too? Because I’ve been doing research on genetics, and since I’ve got Fae blood—”
The portal opened, and the air shifted and again streamed with the crackle and hiss of energy. Maggie turned to Culhane with a victorious smile on her face. “See? I’m learning.”
“Oh yeah. Impressive as male Fae flying,” Bezel said with a groan.
“What?”
“It’s a portal to Netherworld,” Culhane said with a sigh as he closed the pulse of energy and opened a new one. “You must concentrate, Maggie. Or all will be lost.”
“Netherworld—what’s Netherworld?” Eileen was still talking when Maggie gave her a gentle push through the doorway.
“I can learn to concentrate, Culhane,” Maggie told him just before she went through after her niece. “Can you learn to tell me the truth?”
Then she was gone, and the light went with her.
Culhane stared at the spot where the portal had been, a frown twisting his mouth.
“Gotta admit,” Bezel said, “the girl asks good questions.”
“Get out.”
“Gone.”
“Is Mom in Otherworld?”
“I think so.” Maggie sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed Eileen’s hair back from her face.
“You think she’s okay?”
Looking into her niece’s worried eyes, Maggie forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m sure she’s okay. They’re just protecting her, really.”
Eileen gave her an oh-please look. “I’m not stupid, Aunt Maggie. I was actually there when you were talking to Culhane about this. I know they took my mom to make sure you’d do what they told you to.”
Maggie blew out a breath, leaned in and planted a kiss on the girl’s forehead. When she straightened up again, she said, “You hear too much.”
“Forty-five percent of all information is discovered while eavesdropping.”
She smiled. “Is that right? So did you ‘discover’ anything else interesting lately?”
She flopped over onto her side, tucked her right hand under her cheek and looked thoughtful. “Not really. I mean, before Mom left, I heard Quinn telling her that Mab was getting suspicious about Culhane being in our world so much.”
“Really?” Did Culhane know that? Of course, he’d have to know. So what did that mean for Maggie? Was Mab more likely to pop over here and investigate why one of her warriors was spending so much time with mortals? Would that bring the big fight on sooner?
And if it did, was Maggie ready?
Um, no.
“You’re gonna do what Culhane wants so Mom can come home, right?”
Maggie pushed her troubling thoughts aside and looked down at her niece. Eileen was so smart, so together, sometimes Maggie forgot that she really was just a little girl. And right now that child was worried about her mom. Who could blame her?
“Course I am,” she said. “You think I’m going to waste all this training Bezel and Culhane have been putting me through?”
“Can you beat her?” Eileen asked.
Hmm. Sometimes honesty wasn’t the best policy, Maggie thought. For all of her bitching at Culhane to tell the truth, she knew she couldn’t tell her niece that she was scared shitless about fighting Mab.
“You bet I can,” she said, and gave Eileen a smile that was filled with all the confidence she wasn’t feeling.
The girl sighed, sat up and wrapped her arms around Maggie for a big hug. Then she whispered, “You’re not a very good liar, you know?”
“I’ll work on it.” Laying Eileen back down, Maggie reached over, turned off the bedside lamp and said, “Try not to worry about this stuff, okay? I’m going to take care of Mab, and your mom is okay. I’m sure of it.”
Nora screamed loud enough to rattle the windows carved into the walls of the tree.
“Oh, my God, that was incredible.” Body still shuddering with the force of her climax, Nora dropped onto Quinn’s bare chest with a heavy sigh.
Propping herself up on her elbows, she looked down into her lover’s eyes and smiled. “I think it was even better than the last one.”
“It’s all you, my love.” Quinn reached up, smoothed Nora’s short, choppy hair with his fingers, then drew her head down to his for a kiss.
“Mmmm . . . I really shouldn’t be enjoying myself so much. I am a hostage. But maybe it’s that Norwegian syndrome thing. . . .” She paused, thought about it for a second and asked, “Norwegian? Swedish? Doesn’t matter.”
She drew one hand down his chest, defining Quinn’s sculpted muscles with the tips of her fingers. The Faery was truly a work of art. And a magician in bed. Nora’d never experienced anything like what happened to her during sex with Quinn. And she couldn’t seem to get enough of him. All she wanted to do was touch and be touched, to taste and be tasted, to—
Guilt reared its ugly head and took a huge bite of Nora.
“Oh, God. I’m a horrible mother. I’m here, in Otherworld, having incredible sex with my very own personal Faery, and my daughter is at home with a pixie. What does that say about me? My life?” Her forehead hit Quinn’s chest, and she felt the rumble of a chuckle roll through him. “You think this is funny?”
“No, I think you are adorable.”
She lifted her head and blinked back a sudden, unexpected sheen of tears. “You do?”
He caught her face between his palms and stared into her eyes. “I do. You are a wonderful mother. You are raising a bright, happy child. You have been kidnapped and h
eld hostage, and yet your concerns are for her.”
“Well,” Nora said grudgingly, “I haven’t exactly been tortured, have I?”
“That is still to come.”
A tingle of expectation swept through her and disappeared in another rush of guilt. “I should be furious with you. Taking me away. Leaving Eileen behind . . .”
“It is safer for her to be at home than here in Otherworld. The more humans here, the greater the chance of Mab discovering your presence. That would mean danger for all of us.”
“Fine, fine.” She’d heard those arguments when he’d first taken her through the portal. Though it still bothered her that Eileen was in one world while she was in a different one, what he said made sense. On a level that didn’t even touch the guilt factor.
She squirmed a little and felt Quinn’s body, still locked deep within her, stir to life again. Nora sighed, trying to ignore the building heat inside, and said, “You’re sure she’s safe?”
“The little one is fine. Didn’t we look into a portal only a short while ago? The child is with Bezel, who will protect her with his life, or answer to the Fenian warriors.”
Nora chewed at her bottom lip. “There is that. But it’s been days and—” She stopped. “Time. It moves differently here, so really, I’ve only been gone about an hour or two, right?”
“Yes.” He smiled up at her and lifted his hips.
Nora groaned softly, closed her eyes and swallowed a gulp. “So really, my being here is no worse than me going on a date at home and having a sitter come in to be with Eileen.”
He skimmed one hand down the length of her back and over the curve of her bottom. His fingers kneaded her soft flesh, caressed her Faery tattoo, and a fresh bolt of need shot through Nora so fast it stole her breath.
“Precisely.”
“Okay,” she said, sighing now as Quinn stroked his big hands up and down her spine, “then I’m not going to worry. For a while.”
“Good. The little one is fine; I promise you.” Quinn braced his hands at her hips and pulled her into a sitting position atop him.
Nora sighed, arched her back and let him fill her completely.
“Now, my hostage,” he murmured, “I fear it’s time to search you for weapons again.”
“Really?” Nora’s eyes brightened. “But you just searched me a few minutes ago.”
“I might have missed something,” he said, eyes gleaming.
She swiveled her hips against him and watched his eyes flash with heat. “Well, then, it’s best to be thorough.”
“I am devoted to doing my duty,” he said, and sat up to take one of her nipples into his mouth.
“Mmmm . . . I do love a man who loves his job.”
Quinn flipped her suddenly onto her back and drove himself deep. Then, smiling, he whispered, “Work, work, work . . .”
Chapter Twelve
After getting Eileen settled into bed, Maggie went to her own room and stretched out on the mattress. God, it was good to be home again. But how could she sleep? Thoughts of Culhane, and Mab and Nora, and Bezel—and Culhane, mostly—kept stomping through her mind. There was too much to think about.
Damn him, anyway. This was all Culhane’s fault. She’d never asked for a destiny. Hadn’t she been happy before? Painting her windows, enjoying her rut? Scowling, Maggie had to admit that, damn it, the answer there was a big no. She hadn’t been happy. Not completely. There’d always been something missing in her life.
Not like there was a big, gaping hole or anything. Maggie’d done fine, despite her lousy taste in men and the fact that she couldn’t make a living as an artist or that she’d dug herself into the aforementioned rut. It was just, at odd moments, she’d sometimes felt like she’d forgotten something. Put a piece of herself on a shelf somewhere and couldn’t remember where she’d tucked it. Like a missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle, that nagging something was there.
It didn’t ruin the picture—or her life—but if that missing piece fit into place, then everything would have been whole. Complete.
But until she’d met Culhane she hadn’t had a clue what that missing piece was.
Now she was really afraid she knew.
She missed hearing Culhane’s voice. Seeing those rare smiles. The feel of him. The touch of his hand. The way his gaze landed on her with the power of a caress.
Damn him, anyway. She sat up, punched her pillow into shape, then flopped back onto it again. Irritated at Culhane and furious with herself, she muttered, “He kidnapped you, idiot. He’s got your sister holed up God knows where with a Viking Faery, and Eileen’s all alone with a pixie.”
Anger surged, then receded.
He was doing what he had to; she knew that. What he believed was important, not just for him, but for his world. She’d learned enough in her time at Sanctuary to know that Culhane and the others hadn’t lied to her, at least about this. For centuries male Faeries had been treated like boy toys by the females. They had no say in their councils, and unless they were married—or, as they put it, joined—they might as well be invisible.
The warriors were a little better off, which only made Maggie sort of admire Culhane a bit—which she wasn’t happy about, either. But she had to admit, he didn’t have to fight for the other males of his race. He could have had his life and the rights warriors enjoyed and never given the others a thought. But he wouldn’t.
He was risking everything to help all Fae males.
“No matter who he has to use,” Maggie muttered thickly, and turned off the lamp at her bedside.
Shadows drifted into the room. Outside her window night crowded close and the stars glittered brightly. She wondered if Culhane was looking at the sky, too, then told herself to stop being a romantic idiot.
Still furious with Culhane and even angrier with herself for giving a flying damn about him, Maggie surprised herself by dropping into sleep. Then the dreams came.
“You’re still angry.” Culhane came close, smelling of the forest and leather and pure male.
The scent of him surrounded her, his heat reached out for her and Maggie swayed toward him. She didn’t want to. Had promised herself that when she met up with him again, she’d be cold. Hard. No better than he deserved.
Yet one glance from those pale green eyes of his and she felt herself yearning. Damn it.
“Yes, I’m still angry,” she said, despite the way her body was beginning to heat and tremble. “You lied to me. You used my family against me.”
“I need you, Maggie.”
“You need me to be what I’m not.”
“No,” he said softly, reaching out to drag the tips of his fingers along her cheek. “That’s not what I’m talking about. I need you. Your touch. Your warmth. My body aches for yours. Has for longer than I care to admit. That kiss we shared haunts me. I hunger for the taste of you in my mouth again.”
Oh, God, she wanted that, too. It didn’t seem possible, but even more heat swamped her, pooling in her center, making her wet and achy and so damn ready for him her knees shook.
“I don’t want to need you,” she said, lifting her gaze to his.
Around them candles leaped into life, tiny, bright flames dancing and swaying in a wind that neither of them could feel. Behind them a lush bed with a mountain of pillows lay waiting, and overhead a sweep of stars blanketed the sky.
“But you do,” he whispered, his fingers now moving over her lips gently, tenderly.
“I do,” she said, leaning into him, feeling her breasts press against his chest, her nipples hard and sensitive to the slightest touch.
“Then take me, Maggie,” he said, bending down, lowering his mouth to hers. His breath brushed across her face; his eyes seemed to swallow her in their pale, pale depths. “Take me, and let me take you.”
She felt him. Felt the nearness of a kiss she’d hungered to experience again—
And the dream changed, images fading, Culhane slipping away from her as new images rose up in her mind and had he
r twisting on the tangled bedsheets. Her dreams became nightmares in the space of a single heartbeat, and even in sleep, Maggie fought to get free of them.
Fae invading her world, destroying what they couldn’t take, driving humanity underground, where mortals huddled in fear and hid from beings they couldn’t understand. Strangers fell away then and became something else.
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