by Claudy Conn
“Julian, if you err again, you will not only cost us your life, but that of another. She is young and an innocent Druid girl. In fact, she is your Maxine’s namesake on Daniel’s side.” The queen’s eyes burned into him as she watched for his reaction.
“What?” He ran his fingers through his black hair. He wanted to rant and pull at its lengths—Maxine’s blood … in danger?
The queen sighed. “Such handsome blue eyes … what a shame that all they hold is fury.”
Maxine’s image bounced before him. Her green eyes hopeful … now dead. The blood fever was no longer in his system. His heart was full of ashes, but in spite of this he suddenly was diverted. “A namesake on Daniel’s side, you say?”
“You hear well.” The queen appeared mildly pleased. “Indeed, and in appearance she could be your bride’s twin, and you two will soon meet.”
This meant he would be leaving Tir. That was what he wanted. That was all he really cared about. He would be leaving Tir—and be free to track and destroy the DuLaine.
“When?”
“Soon.”
He saw the slight, secretive smile curve her luscious lips and wondered at it as she said, “I need to have a look in on Shamon. He is a wildcard in all of this. The Druid elders have done all they can in his regard. I only hope it will serve in the end.”
The queen’s visit had been over two days ago. Two days in the Isle of Tir … how long was that in the real world, his world, he wondered.
~ Six ~
REIGATE GRANGE IN the south of England was Maxie’s second home. She had always loved it. The countryside with the wild horses of the New Forest was simply her style. However, as she stepped onto Scottish soil, it seemed to reach for her, enchanted her senses, and made the magic in her veins come to life!
After they landed in Inverness and she was able to look across at the snowy peak of Ben Wyvis, she had this odd sensation of really coming home. It felt so right to her. It was as though something in her red cells were answering a long-awaited call. She went on feeling that way as they went about the business of checking in and doing the tourist thing by meandering around the city. All the while she felt this pull from the earth. It was as though the elements were lovingly stroking her, welcoming her home. Fate. Her father had believed in fate. Was this predestined? Was this meant?
They stayed the night in Inverness and didn’t get started till the next morning, when Uncle Kennet insisted on taking the wheel of their rental car. However, once behind the wheel he became a maniac.
Maxie attempted to assuage his sudden horror of driving on what was to him the wrong side of the road in a vehicle whose wheel was on the wrong side as well. She tried pointing a finger to keep him in the correct lane. She attempted calm instructions. And then finally, she was forced into out-and-out shouting. “To the right, Uncle Kennet—right … yes … right … you are on the left!” It was a difficult job that left her exhausted.
After a time, he settled in and she was able to view the rolling hills, decorated with craggy rocks and grazing sheep. They did in fact come to a complete stop as a small herd of cows made an irrefutable decision to cross in front of them. As more than a couple of cows looked their way and mooed, Kennet and Maxie found themselves bent over with laughter. At long last the road was clear and they were able to proceed.
Max found the landscape along the winding road beautiful, and she simply could not look away. She couldn’t stop herself from schoolgirl ooohing and aahing over the breathtaking lay of the land. Breathtaking also applied to Uncle Kennet’s driving, she thought with an affectionate shake of her head.
She returned her attention to the road while he was still cursing actively under his breath. He was having a difficult, really unsustainable time with the wheel on the wrong side of the dashboard. He had decided to balance this situation by driving down the middle of the road. The problem? It was a winding road.
Kennet had to swerve sharply to avoid any on-coming vehicles, which occurred enough to shatter Maxie’s newfound relationship with the countryside. This was a constant strain on them both.
“This is freaking nerve-racking,” she shouted as she pointed her fingers. “Left … no, no … that is right … left!” She was reading the directions they had been given to Castle MacTalbot, which was just about an hour’s drive out of the city of Inverness and near the historic village of Beauly.
The loch came into view as they rounded another bend in the road, and they stopped just to stare before wending their way up a slope to one of the most enchanting castles either of them had ever seen.
A small herd of horses grazing in the pasture lifted their heads. A few of them whinnied as they passed. “Hello, you guys,” Maxie called out her window in response, and then to Kennet, “Score one for MacTalbot, and lucky me, I brought my chaps!” Maxie was passionate about horses and riding.
The castle was constructed of gray stone and had magnificent turrets and charmingly designed peaks. It wasn’t as enormous as some castles in Scotland, but from the windows and the four floors she could see, Maxie guessed that it probably housed somewhere around seventy rooms.
The windows overlooking the drive were lead-paned and charmingly arched. The landscape was filled with trees and manicured beds of early spring flowers. She was exclaiming like a child in Disneyland as she looked around. Uncle Kennet breathed a sigh of relief as he parked the car in the front cobbled courtyard.
They exchanged wide-eyed looks and then took a gander at the huge, double oak doors laden with black wrought-iron hinges. Maxie leaned in to him to whisper, “Do you think they’re expecting us?”
“The servants, you mean?” He shrugged. “I don’t think it matters. I suppose that is why we have the key.”
They started for the doors, which were flung open with a flourish, and there in full glory—in as close to human form as he could get—was Breslyn, Prince of Dagda.
Maxie discovered she was holding her breath as she looked at him. What is this, and when will I ever get my composure back around him? She released the air caught in her throat slowly as she discovered his now familiar seductive scent. Pine wafting in the breeze touched with vanilla and, once again, that herb she couldn’t name. His scent made a circle around her, and she found her eyelids getting lazy and her body feeling warm and receptive to warmer ideas. It occurred to her that this was very odd. Was he using Fae magic? She did not fall head over anything for men—hunky or otherwise. She was a gal with a steady sense of self. Yes, but this isn’t a man, she answered immediately. This is a Fae, and he’s in full hot human Glamour!
No sense denying that when he had visited her in his Fae regalia he had been magnificent, but he was definitely no less so in his human Glamour and Armani clothes.
He stood in a creamy cashmere sweater and dark brown leather pants. Gucci dark leather boots trimmed with gold toes adorned his feet. Her eyes traveled back up to his face and then down to his neck, where she could just see his torque peaking out from the rounded neckline of his tight-fitted sweater. At his wrist he wore a leather bracelet dotted with gold. His dark blond hair had been swept back and was held with a leather tie. His smile took all the prisoners he wanted …
“Hello, Lia,” he said softly, and then he turned immediately, respectfully, to Uncle Kennet. “How was your trip, Mr. Silbury? Pleasant, I trust.” He welcomed them in with his hand stretched out, indicating the way. “Come then, we have refreshments, and a fire set up for us in the library.”
Uncle Kennet stopped him. He was already acquainted with the prince but had not formed an opinion until Maxie, perhaps unwisely, she now realized, had recounted some of her interaction with the irrepressible Fae prince. Maxie saw at once that Uncle Kennet was reserved towards the prince, and she had a pretty strong hunch why.
Uncle Kennet’s eyes had narrowed as he caught the look the prince had given Maxie. She could see and understand that he meant to stand in place of her dad. Well, she would have to advise him, as she would have her fa
ther, that she was all grown up.
“Prince.” Kennet nodded his head curtly, with a classic fatherly look that meant to spell out don’t touch in regards to Maxie. “I didn’t realize you were going to be here to greet us.”
“Indeed, I thought my assistance would be needed during your transition …”
“Transition?” Maxie asked.
The prince grinned broadly and ignoring her question, said softly. “By Danu, Lia, you are stunning.”
She could see the irritated look on Uncle Kennet’s face and gave him a sideways glance that said, behave yourself.
Uncle Kennet was frowning and then coughing hard to show his disapproval. His body language as well as his darkling stare in Maxie’s direction said to her, don’t you fall for this Fae.
No one spoke, but all had made themselves understood. The prince was amused but swallowed a chuckle as he casually remarked, “Your luggage will be taken to your rooms. We have a very capable staff here at MacTalbot, so do come join me inside and be comfortable.” He was leading the way, and it was obvious to Max that the prince was used to being at the controls. Very dangerous stuff here …
* * *
After excusing herself, she made her way down the hall to freshen up. She was just washing her hands in the modern above-vanity glass bowl when she was startled into a silent scream—silent because it never made it past her throat.
The queen of Fae, Aaibhe, was floating just behind her. Her reflection in the mirror was dazzling and difficult to view. For a moment, Maxie froze. Then she swallowed and slowly turned around.
She was struck by the queen’s grace, by her otherworldly beauty, by her infinite radiating power. As she had in her vision, Maxie found she had a deep-seated respect for her. She had the urge to bow her head and did so.
The queen of the Fae reached down and stroked Maxie’s black, silky hair. “You are like her—your ancestor,” she murmured, “very beautiful, but your nature is different. You have the fire in you, but it is tempered with good sense … and control.”
Maxie tried raising her eyes to the queen and found that she couldn’t look up from her boots. She bit her lip and tried looking up again. Finally, she was able to raise her head and shoot a quick glance at the queen’s bedazzling eyes.
The queen encouraged her. “Yes, Druid child.”
“My … my Queen.” Addressing her came from somewhere deep within Max. A feeling of loyalty infused her with pride, a pride that the queen had honored her with her presence. Again, Maxie’s gaze shifted back to her boots, and it occurred to her that the jeans she was wearing were inappropriate for a visit with the queen of Fae.
“You may look at me.”
Maxie did. The queen had toned herself down. She was not in human Glamour, but she had softened the ancient glow that was a natural aura that came from her status. Her hair was pale gold. Her skin was soft and glistened creamy white. Her eyes were an array of endless lights. She was glorious. Her gown floated around her perfect body. She put up one delicate brow and said, “Once again my favorite prince forgets himself. He usually does.” There was irritation in her voice.
Maxie said nothing. The queen’s eyes narrowed, and then she continued, “I have warned him about interacting with humans, and yet, he still does.”
Maxie couldn’t find much to say to this either, so she didn’t.
Again, the queen scanned Maxie’s face before proceeding. “Your human lives are too short … pitiful. A Fae that allows a human into their sphere is bound for tragedy. I know this—I know it in fact too well, and I have warned my prince what heartache and misery it can bring, yet he pursues his fantasy.”
Maxie wondered for a fleeting moment if the queen was saying she had experienced such heartache.
She interrupted Maxie’s wayward thought as she continued, “I am fond of my loyal prince. He is dependable, but he seems determined to become involved with humans of his choice, in spite of my wishes.”
“Are you asking me to send him away?”
“Absurd child, as though you could do that. He is a willful royal. He must play at his games.” She waited for Maxie to say something, but Maxie wasn’t going there. The queen sighed heavily, evidently still very irritated. “It is not for you to do anything other than what you must. It is safest when we do not tamper with fate.”
Maxie had no idea why she was telling her all this or what the queen could possibly want with her. She thought it best for the moment to take the role of a yes-man and breathed in a voice she hoped sounded knowing, “Ah.”
“Excellent, then we understand one another. The laws of karma govern all, even we Tuatha Dé.”
Maxie bit her bottom lip. It was way beyond her. She hadn’t a clue. Couldn’t come up with a guess as to what she was supposed to say. However, Max sensed that the queen was concerned in earnest. Blandly, and with an attempt to be non-committal, Maxie said, “Yes.”
“I have indulged him.” The queen began after a long pause. “I have allowed him the game of playing human over and over again through the centuries. How could I not? He is a not only a powerful royal but immortal, and immortality wears thin at times. Fae must have their interests. I know that his interactions with various humans over the eons filled him with excitement and passion. However, now … there is a great deal at stake, and he must not interfere.”
“I see,” Maxie answered, thinking, Whom am I kidding? She didn’t see.
“Indeed, he has accomplished everything I set him to do. After all, he has faithfully conducted business for Talbot all these years. He has kept all in order in preparation for this day. I don’t mind him having a little innocent fun. But he must know his boundaries.”
“O—kay …” seemed an appropriate response.
“My prince is arrogant. He means to have what he wants, fates be damned.”
Maxie had heard the prince speak in such terms, and she thought it best to maintain a momentary thoughtful silence as she chewed her bottom lip.
The queen gave Maxie a considering look and smiled. “You have a mind of your own.” She then looked suddenly disturbed, touched Maxine’s cheek, and whispered, “I must go,” and she was gone.
With their ‘talk’ fresh in Maxie’s mind—or rather, ‘the queen’s talk, Maxie’s listen’—Maxie returned to the library, where the prince and Uncle Kennet were regarding one another warily. Not much fun there either. They enjoyed refreshments and suffered stilted conversation, and Maxie became all too aware that Uncle Kennet’s behavior bordered on rudeness. She decided it was time to put an end to their little tea party and escape.
He had been frowning at the prince non-stop and spit out a hiss to Max, “That Fae is looking you over like you are a lush dessert he wants to lap up, and I won’t have it!”
Maxie hushed him and told him that Fae hearing was better than theirs. The truth to this became apparent when Max glanced over and saw that Breslyn was smiling arrogantly to himself.
Uncle Kennet took off his glasses and waved them about. His gray eyes glared as he told Max to keep the Fae at a distance. “He may be a prince, but he is still a male and a dangerous one …” He put his glasses back on and grumbled, “Fairy thing.”
Breslyn heard this and visibly bristled. However, he did not respond to it, for which Maxie breathed a sigh of relief. Instead, he gave Max a lingering smile as his tongue licked at his bottom lip. She stared and thought, Somebody save me. She was going to hell in a heartbeat! Given the warmth he was exuding, and drawing from Max, she felt grateful when a mature and husky woman arrived and showed them to their suites.
She introduced herself as Bess, and she bubbled and chattered proudly about the castle as she led them up the wide, floral-carpeted staircase. Her conversation was bright and set them all at ease. “Aye then, I had me sons come and help get the place spiffy for ye, seeing as most of the rooms have been closed off and not in use.”
Max liked Bess at once. She was a lively woman and easy to talk to. She was pleased to show them
about and sweetly advised them that each of their suites housed private baths. They could see she was impressed with her employer’s castle.
The stone wall along the stairs was full to overflowing with portraits. It flickered through Maxie’s mind that she was looking at Julian Talbot’s ancestors. She couldn’t help but notice how both the men and the women of his family were exceptionally attractive.
However, when she got to her own suite, Maxie just stopped and stared. It was huge, with a crackling fire that just drew her inside with its warm welcome. There were French-style glass doors leading out to a stone balcony, and the view of the manicured lawns beckoned with charm.
A king-sized bed dominated the room. It was adorned with a coverlet of plush cream velvet embroidered with green fronds of palm. Antiques were tastefully set about the room, which was decorated in shades of soft greens.
Maxine’s luggage was already there beside the green velvet upholstered bench at the end of the bed. Max moved to the bench, dropped onto it with a sigh, and pulled off her leather boots. She’d been sitting in her stocking feet for a moment just to think about her day when the door opened a crack and the prince of Dagda whispered, “Lia?”
She knew she should send him away, but what the heck, he was practically already inside the room. Correction. He was inside the room, and coming towards her.
“Hi,” Maxie said, feeling like an idiot. She had made up her mind not to tell him about the queen’s visit so, of course, it was all she could think about. She sucked and then chewed at the corner of her bottom lip to keep herself from blabbering.
Breslyn, Prince of Dagda, didn’t just come into a room—he exploded through the atmosphere! He always appeared bigger than life, and very nearly impossible to resist. However, resist she did. This was no ‘Fairy Thing’ as Uncle Kennet had called him. This was male at his finest. This was male making her feel like woman. He definitely had the ‘ole caveman thing’ going on.