by Claudy Conn
~ Eleven ~
PACING, BRESLYN, PRINCE of Dagda, tried to keep himself intact. He felt trapped and frustrated within the walls of his queen’s royal palace while he awaited her. He knew that Queen Aaibhe was growing irritated with his constant interference with humans, but he couldn’t help himself, and after the Council meeting … he supposed he would have to deal with her lecture.
He was the prince of one of the four royal houses of the Tuatha Dé. His powers were immense. His passions, his queen often told him, were unbecoming a royal Fae. Perhaps, he thought now and then, she might be right, but his passions made him feel alive.
His present mission—look, don’t touch, don’t maim, don’t kill the DuLaine—was grating on his nerves. With the flick of his wrist the problem would be ended and DuLaine would be a bad memory! The prince did not feel she carried enough human qualities to be considered one.
His queen did not agree.
A sound made Breslyn look up to find beautiful Ete coming towards him, and he could not help, in spite of his resolve to maintain his distance, but stare. Ete was a royal princess, and her beauty amongst his own kind was considered outstanding, but, he told himself, she was an infant. She was young—if compared to a human in years she would be considered just barely out of her teens. She was also a Lianhan Shee. This meant that in addition to her extraordinary beauty, she had magical and sexual prowess. She could literally cause a human male death by sexual heat and desire. Some said a Lianhan possessed a skin coated with unique oils made up of aphrodisiac components. Others said it was the color of a Lianhan’s eyes. Still others swore that it was the Lianhan’s scent, which even for a royal Fae was intoxicating and served as an aphrodisiac.
Whatever it was, Ete had it, and although she had never used her magic sexual prowess to secure any male, Fae or otherwise, her infatuation with Breslyn was beginning to weaken her moral resolve, and Breslyn knew it.
The prince watched her slow approach with appreciation. She was stunning in her full Glamour. Her auburn hair glittered with golden highlights and fell around her body in cascading silky waves. Her iridescent eyes sparkled with humor. Her lips were full with promise. The sheer gown of gold flowed delicately over her perfect body, and she was more than alluring. He had to remind himself of the facts. One, she was his sister’s dearest friend. Two, she was the favorite cousin of his queen; and three, she was too young. His years numbered ten thousand, and hers but just three thousand. If these three reasons to keep his distance were not enough, there was another: Fae were immortal. He did not want to be tethered to a female Fae for all eternity. He had always steered clear of that sort of relationship.
She touched his bare arm as she looked up at him with adoring eyes, and her voice wafted softly around his brain as she said, “Breslyn—I have missed you.”
He realized she was using some Lianhan—not much, but enough—and he put up a shield at once as he flicked her nose. “Tread carefully, infant. Know what you do … actions have consequences.”
A slow smile curved her luscious lips. “I am not an infant, and, Breslyn … consequences with you is precisely what I am looking for.”
The prince took her hand to his lips. “Ete, I am here for—”
“Business with the queen. I know, and I can help you. I think we could work well together to help our queen.”
The prince considered her. “I have always worked alone.”
She pouted. “It is because of her—the human … you call her Lia. I have watched you and your humans. Most of the ones you favor are engaging—but none of them can help you here in Tir, and I can. None of them can ever … really know you, Breslyn.”
“And I repeat—I have always worked alone,” Breslyn said more gently.
“Perhaps it is time for a change, my Prince. Things are quickly going awry here in Tir. Someone very powerful is working with the Dark Fae. The queen says she has felt the beasts at the fabric of the prison walls … just waiting to escape. The Unseelie Dark Ones have a Seelie—a traitor—helping them, and we don’t know who it can be. Already something is wrong with the curve of time. Time travel has become hampered. Have you not sensed it in our atmosphere?”
The Unseelie were monsters, Fae by misused science, one could say, cloning gone terribly wrong. Dark Fae from time to time escaped in small numbers and were dealt with, but Ete was correct: something very different, far more massive was going on. “Yes, Ete, I have felt it. We have a traitor. I believe one of our own trusted Council members must be helping them, but the queen has thus far refused to believe it.”
“The queen has felt the tug at the dimensional walls only this morning, and she now believes you and I are correct, Breslyn. She knows we have a traitor in our court.” She shook her pretty head. “Why does the Dark King not do something? After all, these beasts exist because of his madness. He created them.”
“He is often off in other worlds of his making, unconcerned with politics, his monsters, and the past. We must always remember that he, although dark, is still Seelie and doesn’t enjoy thinking about the demons he created. The Dark King would be impossible to reach.”
“What is this traitor’s purpose?”
“To rule the Earth and humans once more. You see, Ete … before you were born not all the powerful and warrior Fae agreed with the decision to draw up a treaty with Man. Many Fae believed our magic—our might—gave us the right to own the planet. When we first ruled, the humans looked at us as though we were gods, and there are Fae that enjoyed the status.”
“And you, Breslyn … how do you feel about it?
“I? It is common knowledge that I find humans admirable. They overcome such odds with little to aid them and with lives that are flogged by disease and pain and then over just as they begin to see … No—the Fae came to Earth because we destroyed our own world. We have no right to this one, and we should be thankful to share it with the humans.” The prince sighed. “Power, Ete … it is always about power. Whoever this is wants more of it.”
“I will be your eyes and ears, my Prince.”
He touched her nose and again was struck by her beauty, not only of body but also of heart. He felt drawn to her before he set himself back. Her affection was flattering, he told himself, but it just would not do. “I don’t know, Ete, if I want you drawn into this.”
“I am already in it, my Prince. Tell me what you wish me to do and how you wish me to do it, and I shall. You lead … my Prince …” Her eyelashes brushed her cheek, and then she brought her gaze up to his. “ … and I will follow.”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment. How could he? He was mesmerized. Then he found his voice. “Perhaps, Ete … perhaps.”
* * *
Max gobbled the last of the shepherd’s pie and looked up to find Julian staring at her. She could see regret in his eyes and understood what he felt. She said lightly, “My mom always used to make this dish.”
“And she doesn’t any more?” Julian asked casually. He was attempting to keep the conversation acquaintance level. He had been cool, polite, and mildly interested on the surface as they had carried on a bland conversation, and he couldn’t help but note the irritation that showed in the sparkle of her green eyes. Then he saw that sparkle turn into a film of sadness.
She breathed in a long drag of air and said, “I lost my parents four months ago … They died in a plane crash.”
He looked stricken. “I am sorry … I didn’t know.”
“Of course not, how could you?” All at once Maxie felt the floodgates open up. No she didn’t want to let loose in front of this overflowing local crowd around her in the teahouse. She didn’t want to cry like a child in front of Julian Talbot. So she started to babble instead. “No, how could you know … I mean … up there … down here … wherever you were? Fairyland …? What do they call it? Yes, the ‘OtherWorld—the Isle of Tir?’ Yup, there you were … now you’re here.”
She stopped and collected herself. A long sigh escaped her lungs in s
pite of her efforts to contain it, and she found herself seeing her mother’s face. She was smiling at her, and Maxie could hear her singing a Springsteen tune, “Brilliant Disguise”. It just resonated in her ears. Maxie could hear her, and it made her smile. “We were close. I always thought they would be there one day when I got married, be there for the birth of my children … be there for the next Bruce Springsteen concert!”
He looked baffled over that, and Maxie let go a shaky laugh. “I guess you wouldn’t know, but he is a rock and roll legend … I mean, my parents would bop all over the house when his music was on. One day when I was thirteen they came and told me we were on our way to the Nassau Coliseum to rock with Bruceee! That was just how they said it.” She lingered a moment over the memory. “I was mortified. I thought of myself as a pretty cool teen, and going to a concert with my parents—well, so not cool. But I went.” The next second or two stretched out as the memory took over. In a flash she was a teen, looking around the coliseum and hoping no one she knew was there to see her with her parents. Now there was no stopping the tear that rolled down her cheek. “They were up on their seats screaming, singing at the top of their lungs, and dancing … everyone was … and I think I have never enjoyed another concert as much.” She sniffed and tried to look away.
He reached over to wipe the tear away with a napkin, and then he took her hand. “How remarkable that you have such a vivid memory of just who they were in your life. It will serve you in moments when you need them.”
She looked into his deep blue eyes. They were rich with sincerity. She bit her bottom lip. What had she done? She had spilled her guts to a virtual stranger in a public place. She gave him the only smile she could muster and sniffed it off. “Well, yes, I was lucky. They never tried to hide who they were from me. How about you? Do you have memories of your family?”
“Yes, all good ones. I hold onto those. I lost my father to a hunting accident when I was just twenty and inherited my title and the family estate. My mother was devastated by his loss. She never recovered completely. She went into what they called in the day a slow decline … she just gave up on everything, and one day when she caught a chill, she didn’t bother trying to get well. I lost her two years after my father’s accident.”
“Oh, wow … I am so sorry.”
He brushed it all away. Right then she felt oddly connected to him. She was sure he felt it as well, because he stopped short and looked at her for a pregnant moment. His bright blue eyes looked deep and long into hers, and she felt a rush … and then they were disconnected, and he was aloof once more. He said quietly, “It was a long time ago.”
“Yes, and now here we are doing something absolutely no one would believe …” She paused. “but … well, we are not really doing something are we? I mean, here we are sitting ducks waiting for DuLaine to come to us, and why is that? The longer we leave her out there, the stronger she will become. Why aren’t we doing something right now? I mean, she deserves to die. She is out there about to kill, or has already killed, innocent people. She will go on killing innocent people if we don’t stop her. I think we should take her down. Immediately.”
He chuckled, and it lightened his face so she could see the boy in him. “You have a savage person inside you, don’t you, Miss Reigate?”
“Well?” Max gave him a hard stare. “We need to be savage, don’t we?”
“I have always heard that revenge is a tastier dish when served up cold.”
“I am not in it for the revenge. She wants to kill … she will kill, and when she finds out I am living in her world, she will want to kill me. So, I have a different take on this. I think we should do it, get it over with, finish the deal, and move on. End of story.”
He looked at her, and suddenly he laughed. “You have a point, but there is something in our way.”
“And what is that?”
“Her power, Miss Reigate, and the fact that she is virtually immortal. There are only two ways of killing her that we know of, and Druids we may be, but neither one of us has the might at this moment to disarm her enough to accomplish either of those methods.”
“Meaning … us … you and me …?”
“Yes, meaning us … the Druids in this effort.”
Max could see he was studying her. She wanted him to know that she might have a healthy fear of DuLaine and her abilities, but she wasn’t going to get caught napping. If he knew how to kill her, Max wanted to know how as well. “You say there are two ways? What are they?”
“Complicated.”
“I am a quick study.”
He laughed. “But I like to consider the consequences of revealing too much too soon. I made a costly mistake the first time. I rushed in and lost everything. I shall not do so again.”
Maxie saw that was that. He wasn’t going to tell her any more today. She bit her lip and decided to let it go.
He gave her a rueful look, and they both realized that when he had taken her hand a short while ago he had not yet let it go. She pulled away at the exact moment he dropped her fingers. A tingling sensation trickled through her as she felt the last of his touch.
Quietly he asked, “Dessert?
Maxie declined. A moment later he was taking care of the check, and then they were walking down the sun-drenched sidewalk to a general store of sorts. Maxie was a quick shopper. She knew what she wanted, went in, spied the boots, tried them on, and was done.
Julian stood back and suddenly chuckled. “I have never seen a woman shop quite like that.”
“Believe me. Mom used to call me an anomaly.” She moved towards the Jaguar and waited by the passenger door with a mischievous look on her face. He was there, and there was no doubt as to the gloat on his face as he bent to open it wide for her. She got in with a flourish.
~ Twelve ~
WHAM! “OH PLEASE … not now …” Maxie whispered out loud. She had been thinking about Lamia DuLaine as she hurriedly took the stairs to freshen up before dinner. All at once she was somewhere else and standing close enough to the DuLaine that shivers of dread spread through her body.
Maxie stumbled as she tried to see past Lamia’s thoughts and make it to her bedroom door. It was as though she were stuck—frozen to the hardwood floor. She wasn’t quite in Lamia’s head this time, but standing there like a ghost watching, hearing, and feeling. It was awful. She was in the past again.
Lamia was searching for fresh blood.
DuLaine stood at the crossroads, not far from her estate grounds. The staffers that Shamon had hired to care for her were daytime employees and were long gone by the time Lamia left her home. It was a cool night, and she breathed in the air with relish. Her blonde hair was loose and hanging about her shoulders in silky waves. She wore a soft red leather jacket tailor cut in slim lines. Lamia had not bothered to fasten it. The jacket blew open with the night breeze, nicely displaying the low cut of her white sweater beneath it. A short knit black skirt hugged her hips and well-shaped thighs. Black high-heeled boots reached her pretty knees. She looked definitely out of place on the edge of the New Forest.
She had made her way down the sandy country road that lined her land, noting to herself how different everything now was. The countryside was dotted with houses where none had been before. Her road was not lit, but she had no trouble seeing as she made her way to the dimly lit paved road that would lead to the small village of New Forest. A few cars went by. One caught her in its headlights, and she put up her hand to ward off the light. She squinted in great discomfort and stood for a moment with indecision and sudden insecurity as she wondered just what she should do. A car pulled over to her, and a man stuck his head out his open window and inquired if she needed help.
DuLaine looked him over appraisingly, and Maxie tried to get his attention by waving her arms. She was both unseen and unheard as she shouted, “Drive off—go … drive!” Maxie guessed him to be in his thirties. He had a shock of darkish hair and a pleasant enough face, and Maxie wrung her hands together because she
knew what was coming next. He couldn’t see her because this had already happened.
“Yes … yes, I do,” Lamia said softly. Without hesitation she got into the car.
He looked her over and breathed, “You are beautiful …”
“Am I?” Her amber eyes glinted an invitation.
He nearly grabbed her right then, but he managed to say in a low, husky voice, “You know that you are.”
“Show me how I make you feel. Show me what you want to do to me.”
A wicked smile curved his lips. “Oh honey, I plan to do just that …”
“Take me down this road …”—she pointed to the sandy road that led to her estate—“deep in the woods …” Lamia used her voice of compulsion. He had no other choice, but it served; it was what he had in mind before she had taken control of it.
* * *
This was the first time she had ever been in a car, and even at that slow pace, she felt the thrill of its speed and power. She ran her hands over the seat and said, “I like this.”
He laughed. “What? This old clunker? Honey, you are easy to please.”
Maxie watched them drive down the dirt lane and pull into a narrow clearing bordered by DuLaine’s dark woods. She felt helpless as she floated near them. Maxie wanted out of this before it was too late and she had to watch DuLaine take this man’s life.
Maxie’s face scrunched up with the effort as she tried to will herself back to her own reality. Nothing. She had inadvertently put herself at this scene. Now she had to get out, and then she seemed to feel rather than hear a soft thought. It told her to stay.
Damn! She felt like an impotent voyeur.
He parked his old car and pushed back his seat until it was almost reclining. Lamia pulled off her jacket and then undid his tie. He pushed back on his seat and got into position as she started to undo his zipper. She fumbled with the zipper and laughed when she got it undone. She looked into his hazel eyes. “I am easy to please, as long as you give me what I want.”