And her Gift had shown her his past. That was more than Lord Haddon had accomplished in months.
She directed him up the stairs to her tower, ignoring the sly looks from other party guests. Let them think what they wanted. The queen wouldn’t care if she took a lover. The queen didn’t care about anything other than Cassie’s Gift. But the truth? That when he touched her she saw another world? One that called to her, begging her to leave the castle and run to it? That knowledge would free the queen’s dark side.
Cassie shivered. No one wanted to see the dark side of the queen.
Behind the closed doors of her reception room she sank onto a sofa and let her head fall back. Her guest poured her a glass of water from the tray.
“Here.”
“Thank you.” It was cool and soothing and chased some of the headache away. “I guess I should have eaten something.”
“You didn’t eat?”
“I was too busy wondering where you were to think about eating.” She took another sip. “We’ll have them bring something up here.”
“Won’t the servants talk?”
She grinned. “Oh, they’ll talk alright. I’m sure everyone is already talking. You see I haven’t taken a lover in the months I’ve been here and they lay bets on who will be the first.” It skeeved her out to think about taking one of the be-spelled courtiers to her bed and until tonight, none had tempted her. And there was Haddon. He didn’t like when she talked too much to anyone.
“I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be. Letting you help me up here wasn’t an invitation. It just gives me a way to give them something to talk about.” She took another sip of water. “And maybe they’ll stop seeing me as a challenge if they think someone’s won.”
She went to the intercom and ordered a late supper for two. “Let them talk.” She sank back down to the sofa and rubbed her forehead. “They talk about me anyway.”
“Headache? I can help with that.” He walked behind the sofa.
“What are you going to do?” She sat up straight and whipped around, keeping him in her view.
He’d snuck into the castle, avoided the spell. She didn’t really know him, he could be anyone. Maybe she knew the man underneath. Maybe he was from the enemy, her cousin Prince Kian. What kind of fae could maintain this quality of glamour in the face of the queen?
His hands were poised, inches from her face. “Two hundred people saw me walk up the stairs with you, if anything happens to you, I’m a dead man.”
“Somehow that’s not reassuring,” she said, but she eased back anyway. He touched her, stroking light feathery touches from her hairline down the nape of her neck. She shivered and bent her chin, allowing him access. His touch soothed her headache, so she closed her eyes. And let the slow heat of his fingers take away the pain.
He pulled out the pins from her hair, loosening it from its up-do and ran his fingers through it. “Close your eyes,” he murmured next to her ear. “I’m very good with soothing females and their stresses.”
A part of her was irritated at his condescending tone, but his presence behind her was like a hot fire, and she’d been so cold.
His light touches grew deeper, rubbing into the muscles of her neck she hadn’t realized were sore. A small moan escaped her and she let her head fall onto the back of the couch. He moved the massage up into her hair line, into her scalp, his fingers using just the right pressure, not too soft and not too hard.
“Better?” His voice was low in her ear and she nearly didn’t answer, wanting him to keep going. To work his magic down her shoulders and into her back.
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Good,” he said. As if he knew what she wanted, he slid his fingers down the sides of her neck, to the tops of her shoulders. “Lean forward, I’ll do your spine. Many headaches stem from tension in your back.”
She followed his direction, bending at her waist. The pressure increased and he worked her upper back and shoulders, digging into the muscles and freeing her from her pain.
“That’s so nice.”
He paused. “Do you want me to stop?” He stroked along her neck, dipping into the low back of her gown, stroking the small of her back. A frisson of desire shivered through her.
He was a stranger. More than that, he’d snuck into the castle. He had an ulterior motive being here, she was sure. He carried danger inside him like it was bred into his bones. She could see it in the glint of his eyes. Hear it in his voice. Feel it in his touch. But she knew she wasn’t going to stop. She was taking a risk. And for the first time in months, it felt like she was alive.
She turned and rose up on her knees. He met her halfway, leaning over the back of the sofa and kissing her with lips that felt too thick.
She was suddenly frustrated. She wanted the man underneath, the man with the sharp edges who matched the pain flickering in his dark eyes. So much in her world was unsure, as if everything around her she knew to be reality would fracture if she looked too close. She wanted the real him.
“Show me,” she said.
Bosco’s face shuttered closed.
“I can see you.” She pushed ahead. “The real you. Not all the time, but it’s driving me crazy. Can you please drop the glamour?”
He tensed, his grip caging her neck.
Fear uncoiled in her belly. She became still. Very still, as she realized—she’d made a mistake.
He’d lulled her with his touch. His heat. And her own repressed desires. Now that he knew that she knew his secret—the flicker of danger in his eyes she’d thought was exciting, became her death.
Chapter Six
Haddon surveyed the ball. His plan to create a world where Cassie used her talents for himself and the queen was working. Cassie thought herself a fae princess and worked hard daily to find the man she thought had killed her royal parents—her very own cousin and the queen’s son, Prince Kian.
He allowed his lips to curve up in a secret smile and nodded to a passing acquaintance on her way to the buffet. The lady nodded back, twisting her head to keep an eye on him as she walked, and looking a little startled at his unusual mirth. Yes, the plan to fool Cassie into cooperating had gone off without a hitch. Well, once they’d managed to coerce her small amount of fae DNA into taking over her body and making her fae. Now she looked, walked, and felt as if she were one hundred percent Tuathan. As long as everyone who came into contact with her didn’t examine her aura too closely.
And why should they? To all of them she was a princess, and untouchable.
Guests swirled by in the last of the evening’s formal dances. Soon the lights would dim, the rock band would emerge, and the debauchery of the court would be loosened. He scanned the crowd for the “princess”. So far he’d successfully kept her out of the worst of the court’s excesses but it wouldn’t take much for one of the guests to decide she was a morsel for snacking on. He’d thought about it himself. She was slim enough to be his type with little breasts and long slender legs, but they’d kept her hair long and curled. He preferred his women a little more androgynous. Rather like he preferred his boys a little on the effeminate side. Swinging both ways had its advantages.
He frowned. Cassie was nowhere in sight. “You there!” He flagged down a quivering page-boy. Now this one he’d sampled many times and by the way the boy flinched when he realized Haddon called him, he remembered every second of it. Now what was his name? Robby? Yes, that was it. “Robby, where is the Lady Gertrude?”
“I believe I saw her heading out to the pool, my lord.”
“Excellent.” Should he have the boy come to his chambers later? Haddon tapped his chin and considered. No, he needed to be up early in the morning and working out his next move in the chess game that had now become a stalemate. He’d hit a snag on his quest for the kingdom. While using Cassie as their pet psychic was working wonders for the war effort against Kian, the spell all the guests were under to make them believe there had always been a Princess of the Black Court a
lso kept the courtiers from worrying about the queen’s madness. Now he was further away from convincing anyone that the queen should be removed from power. And that much further away from the crown.
He let the boy go with a nod and set off for the pool. He’d been lax lately. The spell that bound Cassie’s memories needed constant upkeep. Changing her into an elvatian had been the easy part. As a witch she had enough fae DNA in her to make that simple. All it had taken was both his powers and the queen’s—and a few blood sacrifices—and Cassie was now for all intents and purposes as elvatian as any in the room. But her memories had been harder. Frustration welled inside him and his nails dug into his palms.
That stupid girl. Somehow she’d protected them so even the queen had been unable to touch them. The best they’d been able to do was confine them into that silly child’s toy and hope that it held.
He let the breath he was holding out and stretched his fingers out, relaxing them. It wouldn’t do for anyone to know how tightly wound he was. Or how close he was to the edge.
On his way outside he passed a side room. A familiar laugh snagged his attention. He stopped and stared. The queen was holding court among a bevy of good-looking young men, including one with luscious lavender skin and a round ass that he’d marked out as someone he wanted to get to know better. And, he noticed with growing irritation, she looked happy. Satisfied.
Her bright red hair, which would climb into the air with static electricity when she was upset, lay in quiet curls on her shoulders. Her usually flashing violet eyes were flirting with her admirers. Flirting! No one looked scared. No one looked uncomfortable. And worst of all, the queen herself looked like she might be sober.
He unclenched the fist he hadn’t realized he’d made and forced himself to walk on. He’d track her down later and give her some of the drugs that made her crazy. The courtiers here might not remember her fits, but he’d be damned if he’d lose control of her temper now. It was his to command. How dare she look happy? How dare she not be fully compliant with his plan?
Outside the full moon glinted on water already seething with bare skin. Hands on breasts. Mouths between thighs. Only a few of the fae in the pool were indulging in fornication, but it was clear many were working hard at seducing their quarries. At least here everything was as it should be. He caught sight of Gertrude’s naked back, heading for a cabana. He snuck up behind her.
“Looks like the party’s a little more advanced out here,” he said quietly.
Her jump made him smirk.
“My lord.” She curtsied. It took talent to curtsey bare-ass naked and make it look elegant. Gertrude had talent.
“Are you planning on joining the fray?”
“My lord, the princess has retired to her room. I am free for the evening.” She shifted her eyes away from his.
“She has?” He stepped in closer. Close enough he could sense her heartbeat speeding. “If she’s safely tucked away, why are you so nervous? Surely the presence of myself wouldn’t shatter your calm.”
Gertrude definitely wasn’t his type. Too old, too worldly. Now had he met her when she was Cassie’s age, he might have been interested. He waited until she looked back into his eyes, thrilling in the dilation of her pupils. She was scared. He held back his smile, unwilling to let her relax even a tiny bit.
“My lord?”
Yes, she was too worldly. Look at how she held her composure when faced with his threat. “Something is going on, Gertrude. What is it you’re not telling me?”
She stiffened. “I don’t know what you mean?”
He held back his irritation. He shouldn’t need to remind her that he held the whip. It was one more example of things sliding out from under his control since they’d moved permanently into the summer palace.
“Gertrude—” He let his voice go silky soft. “It isn’t wise to hold things back from me. Remember, I control where the war turns. It might happen that your lands, your very rich and fertile lands, will be where the battle happens next.” She stiffened. “What about your estates on Charnay. Isn’t that world full of minerals? War is such an expensive business and the crown can’t be expected to bear all the costs alone.”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “She left the ball early. I’m surprised you didn’t notice. And she is up in her rooms.” Her elegant fae eyebrows lifted and she lowered her voice. “She took a guest with her. I asked around. He’s a guest of her uncle’s, some guy looking to get laid while he tours the demesnes.”
It had taken years to control his features to the point where nothing crossed his face but what he wanted. Gertrude, and all the castle staff, were under a modified version of the spell all the guests were under. The modification also left them convinced the pseudo princess was real, and that her dead parents had been real. But he needed the staff to function more on their own. Who cared if a guest left and his memory of the weekend was gone, but the staff? They needed memories. Unfortunately, that meant they also retained the ability to think.
He didn’t let Gertrude see his true horror that Cassie had become a victim to one of the Lotharios roaming the party. “Gertrude, do you remember why I wanted you to watch the princess?” He seized her hand, tightening his grip to just under painful. “She’s in a vulnerable state. We don’t know what happened to her when her parents were killed. Anything might set her back, and she’s made such progress.”
Everyone knew the princess had blocked out the horrible night of her parents’ supposed murder. Gertrude had been warned to keep an eye on her.
“Oh, he seemed harmless. A little sex will do her good. Loosen up those goody-two-shoes.”
She might be right. Cassie was wound up too tightly, but it wasn’t Gertrude’s place to make those decisions. It was his.
He squeezed harder and she winced.
“This isn’t what I’m paying you for.” He nodded at the humping and bumping couple on the deck chair a few feet away. “And if you can’t do your job, I’ll have to find someone else. That wouldn’t be good for you.” He watched her face pale as the threat sank in, before he released her.
She stepped hurriedly away, rubbing her wrist. “I’ll go up right away.”
She turned, but he stopped her. “No. I’ll go.” If there was any damage to the spell he’d cast containing Cassie’s memory he wanted to know right away. And he didn’t want Gertrude to find out the princess’s true identity or risk having his carefully stacked set of spells collapse.
She nodded, all of her earlier surety wiped out. Despite his lack of attraction to her, as she walked away her bowed shoulders and cowed demeanor sent a thrill through him. Maybe he’d find something he could do with her after all. Not actual sex, but perhaps a careful disassembling of all of her confidence would be stimulating.
He couldn’t plan it right now. Now he had to check on Cassie and her spell. He stepped back into the ballroom. Everyone made way for him, scraping and bowing as they should. But something was missing. He slowed, observing the giddiness of the guests. Something was wrong.
Across the room the queen burst into a temper, her voice rising, shaking the leaves of the potted palms that bordered the dance floor. Her hair rose in a red static nimbus, even from this distance the electric charge of her rising impending shift into the Morrigan had his skin creeping. But the crowd partied on, oblivious to the danger.
A partially tuxedoed man carrying a falcon nearly bumped into him. “What? Oh sorry old chap.” The drunk guest moved on, weaving back into the crowd. Haddon stopped, the realization that he’d committed an enormous mistake rushing through his nervous system.
The queen was going insane, just as he’d planned. But because of the spell he’d been forced to put over every single courtier, not a single one cared. If only they’d been able to get the stupid girl’s Gift to work without all of this rigmarole. The spell, the castle. It was all window dressing for Cassie, just so he could get her to work her psychic ability. Psychics were touchy, the queen had killed more than one tr
ying to force their Gifts. And there weren’t that many around. No, they needed Cassie, and they needed her working for them willingly. But it had slowed his plans, almost to a standstill.
Without the courtiers remembering the queen’s fits, without the world seeing that she was falling apart, he would lose ground. The court would be happy to drown their memories in bliss while forgetting that the queen was imploding.
He’d never be king.
Dancer’s swirled by and the music ebbed and flowed.
He needed to show them all that she was closer to losing it than before. Something big. Something that would push them over the edge and put him on the throne. And he needed them to remember it.
The little psychic who was winning them the war was losing him his kingdom. Perhaps it was time to remind the queen who the Princess Cassandra really was—one of the hated MacElvy’s whose very life threatened the queen’s.
Chapter Seven
Bosco stilled. Time slowed in that way it did when his instincts told him he was in mortal danger. He’d never seen this woman before today, she couldn’t possibly know who he was. Or why he was there. Or worse, what his real secrets were.
Or could she?
He’d fooled older, experienced kings and queens. Magic users of far more power. Could she really be a threat?
She seemed so innocent.
His fingers sank into the back of her neck. He could snap her bones in seconds. Save his own hide. He could change his looks, walk back in the castle as someone else, and no one would ever be the wiser.
Thud-thud, thud-thud, thud-thud. Her fear pulsed under his fingertips.
A knock sounded on the door and the cold, calculating part of his brain said: do it now.
“Your Highness?” The knock came again. “We have your dinner.”
He didn’t let go.
“It’s the food.” Her pupils flared. Her breathing sped up. And a realm of possibilities flashed in his head.
Kill her, kill the servants, and get out.
Enchanted: A Fae Fantasy Romance (Fae Magic Book 3) Page 5