Enchanted: A Fae Fantasy Romance (Fae Magic Book 3)

by Jessica Aspen

  She sat down. And stood right up again when her aunt slammed into the room. The queen was in her Aeval aspect, her dress a tight, red silk that showed off her generous cleavage and long, Tuathan legs. Her bright red hair spiraled toward the ceiling, always a bad sign her power was getting away from her. She wobbled like a new kitten on her stilettos as she and four ladies-in-waiting, in poofy dresses with tiny fairy wings sprouting from their shoulders, poured into the room.

  “My queen.” Cassie bobbed a curtsy and forced herself not to cringe when her aunt gave her a curt nod. So far, the queen hadn’t hurt her. But only because Haddon had interfered. She prayed to the Goddess this would be a good session, that her Gift would respond and give her aunt the answers they needed.

  “My queen, how good of you to come. But are you sure you’re up to this?” The oil slick of Haddon’s voice turned Cassie’s stomach. How could her aunt not see he hated her? How could she not see he was biding his time? Was it only Cassie who saw past his solicitous care as he helped the queen into a chair and made sure she had a cool drink in her hand before turning to glare Cassie into her own seat?

  The queen dismissed her ladies and they fluttered out the door, leaving them alone.

  “Well? Has she given us anymore information?”

  “Not yet, my queen.” He turned to Cassie. “Time to get to work, Princess.” The sneering twist he gave her title made her squirm, but she squared her shoulders and braced herself for his touch. Ignoring the taint of garlic still seeped into his breath.

  She struggled every session to summon what little Gift her trauma with her parents had left her and every time she failed. These sessions were important. She hadn’t had to be told. No one could hold the throne of the Black Court without power. Nor had she had to be told she only held onto her title out of courtesy and the grace of her aunt. That if it hadn’t been for Kian’s betrayal she would be merely Lady Cassandra, like her old Uncle Nial, who had never had the power of the rest of his relatives.

  Haddon placed his thumb on the center of her forehead. “Think of a sunny day, and a broad sky...” He droned on, and she breathed through her nose, concentrating hard, finally losing herself under his hypnotic spell. She knew where she was, but everything was at a distance, her real self numbed to what was happening to the rest of her seated in the chair.

  “Is she under?”

  “Yes, my queen.” Haddon sat back. “Now, Cassie, we need you to tell us where the prince is and what his plans are.”

  She reached within, pulling her magic from deep inside and finally a trickle of power flowed through her. She relaxed at the familiar touch, the fiery red of her visions danced inside her head. She opened her mouth and let the Goddess through.

  “The one you seek is planning to circle back and attack from the South. He uses the old ways and the old paths...and yet, he is new, bright and shiny with a golden light that he plays with, as if with a new toy.” The power rushed through her, taking her over as it hadn’t since she’d gotten here. It was wonderful and amazing, and frightening. She tried to wrestle control back from the voice pouring through her, but it seemed to want no part of her control. “He has new allies who will give him much power, but in the end he will come to you. Be ready.”

  She collapsed in her chair.

  “When I count to three you’ll be awake and you won’t remember you were able to do any of this. You’ll remember you tried and tried, but you only were able to give us a little bit of information. You’ll remember your Gift is still broken.” He placed his thumb on her forehead. “And one, two, three.”

  Cassie swam up out of the hypnosis. The room seemed too bright, the furniture sharp and the colors too bold. She blinked. She hated this part of the sessions, they always left her feeling drained. And for what? She’d tried and tried and had only been able to give them a little bit of information.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I wish I could have given you more.” She took the restorative drink Haddon handed to her. All these sessions, but nothing seemed to work. Haddon was doing his best, but her powers still hid from her.

  The queen shot out of her chair, her eyes whirling violet vortexes of excitement. “He’s going to try to take the Black Court, but we aren’t even there!”

  Cassie stared at her. What was she talking about. She hadn’t said any such thing. Had she?

  “He’ll get there and find he can’t get in.” She leaned in close, her wild power crackling over Cassie’s skin. “I left surprises at the Court.” Her beautiful lips slid up in an insane grin. Against her will Cassie could see her attraction, why the courtiers still followed her, despite her worsening insanity. She gleamed with magic. It poured off her like liquid electricity, making Cassie’s light red curls crackle with static.

  Aeval danced away and around the room. “He’s coming and we’ll be ready!” She headed for the door.

  Haddon ran to open it for her, but before he let her out he paused. “My queen...Your Highness, please do not do anything rash. We need to plan carefully.”

  “Oh, fuck you, Haddon.” She waved a long manicured hand at Cassie, not even glancing in her direction. “You were right. The girl is good. She’s all we need to beat him down.” She stroked her nails down Haddon’s cheek, leaving pale scratches along the green of his skin. “As soon as we have my son and all of his delicious power we’ll go after the big fish.”

  “But, Your Highness, we no longer have Agrona. We can’t drain the prince of his power.”

  Cassie was impressed. It was like holding a grenade after you’d pulled the pin.

  “Are you questioning me?” The queen’s eyes glowed and power crackled off of her, then she laughed. “Why, Haddon, how could you have forgotten? I am the most powerful fae in the entire demesne.” She finally looked at Cassie, staring through her as if she weren’t a person or innate. As if she were a vase or a portrait. Or a possession. “If I can create this—” she waved her hand, the tips of her fingers flicking up and nearly grazing Cassie’s face. “—I can do anything. Siphoning off his power will be easy. I don’t need Agrona anymore.” She eyed her advisor, looking him up and down and tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I don’t think I even need you.” She headed with lightening speed toward the door, teetering on her heels and nearly knocking over a table lamp. “Now get out of my way and open the door.”

  He scuttled to the door and bowed her out. Before he followed her he turned back to Cassie and hissed, “Not a word of this, do you hear? I don’t want to find out you’ve told anyone the queen thinks she can drain the prince of his power. Not Gertrude, not that fop you’re fucking...no one.”

  “What did she mean, she created me?” Cassie gripped the arms of her chair, digging her fingers into the soft fabric. “She looked right through me, as if there were nothing to me. Nothing at all.”

  “Never you mind.” He turned to go and she stood up.

  Steel laced through her voice. “No, I need to know. Did you do something to me? Did she? Is that why I can’t remember?”

  “Shut up, you fool.” He shut the door and strode back across the room. He leaned over her, forcing her to either retreat or bend backwards to face him. “You don’t want to know what we did. You don’t want to remember.”

  She held her ground, so close she could see the nose hairs trembling inside his flared nostrils.“But what if I do? What if I can get my Gift to work better? What if I can get my powers back so I can work magic like every other fae here? I’m like one of those stupid flower fairies, only able to work the tiniest magic. You help me every time and I have to stop, and think, and work to get my Gift going. Wouldn’t it be amazing if I could get it all back?”

  His face contorted and he choked as if what he really wanted to say was too poisonous, even for him. He swallowed and started again, his voice packed with deep power. “You were a mess,” he said. “You were in a cage and beaten every day. Do you want to remember being tortured?”

  She flinched away from him, and his words,
and the images hammering into her brain.

  A horrible smell. The hungry beady eyes of rats. Haddon and her aunt coming in to...it was gone. But what remained was the memory of fear and pain. “No,” she whispered.

  “Good. If it wasn’t for us you’d still be in that cage. Or you’d be dead. Now, think on that, missy, and be grateful you don’t remember. Be grateful we brought you here where you can be a princess.” He stroked her cheek and she kept herself still, refusing to flinch away from his touch. “Now be a good girl and forget the past. Forget your parents. Forget the horrors and the torture.” He stood up straight and looked at her, his lips pursed thoughtfully together. “Maybe we’ve been working you too hard. Maybe it’s good you’ve taken on a lover.” He left her there and headed for the door. “But, Cassandra, don’t imagine for a moment that you have any other life than what the queen allows you.”

  He shut the door behind him and she dropped into her chair. Outside, in the garden, one of the tigers stalked a flower fairy. Its head lowered and its muscles tensed. It eased close. And then closer to the fat, pink-covered backside.

  But Cassandra didn’t really see. The fragments of memory she’d never known existed were still there.

  She’d never remembered a cage. She’d never remembered Haddon and the queen and the dark. Was her memory coming back? Was it due to Bosco and the way their Gifts interacted? Or was it something else?

  If she touched him—if he helped her—could she remember? Did she want to? Cold raced down her spine and she shook like a wet dog. Her future, her past, it might all tip on this man. She had to find him again. Like touching a hot fire, she needed to find out if he’d burn.

  Chapter Eleven

  Haddon raced down the hall after the queen. “Your Majesty, wait!” He pushed aside the flock of ladies-in-waiting clustered around her.

  “Why should I? You’re not accomplishing anything.” Aeval wavered from side to side. “You’re doing nothing but dragging me down.” She slid, her high heels skidding on the stone floor, arms windmilling wildly.

  In a burst of colorful dresses, tiny wings fluttering, the bevy of ladies-in-waiting dove to catch her. “My lady! My lady!” They flocked around, cooing and petting her hair, her dress, her arms.

  She slapped them away. “Useless, you’re all useless!”

  “My queen.” Haddon pushed past the women, knocking one into the wall. The ladies dropped back and hovered, muttering and whispering to each other behind cupped hands. He turned and flapped his arms. “Shoo! Shoo! Can’t you see she doesn’t want you?” They stumbled to a stop eyeing him with cowed eyes and bent heads. “Go! Find something to do.”

  He turned. The queen was halfway down the hall, moving like a charging swan, aiming for the stairs and her getaway.

  He forgot about the cluster of ladies and ran to catch up to her, alarm racing through his system. The queen was moving far too fast for someone on as many downers as he’d given her earlier.

  “Your Majesty, we need to talk. Now that Agrona is dead you can’t possibly think you can drain Kian of his powers. Agrona’s ability to suck men dry was the reason we had any hope of taking his Gift.” He pulled the drug out from his pocket and held his palm out in front of her, allowing her to see the glittering silver-blue pills. “You’ll feel better once you’ve had something to calm your nerves.”

  She stopped suddenly and he had to throw himself into the wall to keep from hitting her. Her eyes whirled and her hair spiraled up. Sparks flew from the ends, striking him in the face. He gritted his teeth and bore it.

  “You think you can control me?” She leaned in, her face pressed so close he was overwhelmed by her aura sparking against his until he could almost smell the burn. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to,” she hissed. “I don’t need your drugs and I don’t need you. I have her.” She jerked her shoulder back in the direction of the room they’d just left and Cassie. “All I need is her Gift and my powers and I’ll have Kian. And once I have him I’ll figure out a way to drain his Gift. I’ll have that asshole King Oberon by the short ones.” Her eyes lit with violence. “I’ll finally have my revenge on Oberon and when he’s dirt beneath my feet I’ll take control of the Gold Court. I’ll be the most powerful fae in two demesnes, both the Black and the Gold Courts. ” She curled her lip. “Now run away, like the good little dog you are, and go arrange tonight’s party. I feel like celebrating.”

  She careened down the hall—stopped—straightened up and walked in a nearly straight course down the hall and out of sight.

  His breakfast curdled in his gut and he sank against the wall, pulling the tapestry behind him down with his weight. She knew he’d been controlling her with the drugs. She knew what he was up to. And she seemed almost lucid, despite her issues walking on her knife-sharp heels.

  None of this was good.

  If she knew he was after the crown. If she knew he wanted her dead. If she knew the rumors he’d started outside of this little charade of a castle—that she was hidden away here because she was nearly uncontrollable. If she knew all that—then she knew everything. And if she did know then his plan was in ruins.

  But maybe she didn’t. Maybe she just thought she did. Otherwise, why hadn’t she had him killed?

  He straightened up off of the tapestry and brushed the dust off of his jacket with a fastidious flick of his fingers.

  No, she couldn’t know. That had to be the paranoia from the drugs talking. She was in withdrawal, that’s all. But she’d brought up some good points. He could easily lose control over her if she stopped depending on him for the drugs. And he needed her to become more insane, not less. He needed a new plan.

  The ladies fluttered by, giving him a wide berth and sidelong glances and leaving behind a wave of nauseating floral scent in their wake. He wondered how much they’d heard. They, like everyone else here in the summer castle, besides himself and the queen, were under the spell. They wouldn’t remember what had happened once they left the castle grounds. The spell ensured that. But what if the queen broke the spell? What if she took Cassie and found Kian herself? What if she could drain his powers?

  If that happened, he’d be S.O.L.

  No, she needed him. She needed the drugs now to function at all. And if by some chance she didn’t need the drugs, he’d make sure she got into a state where she did.

  And he’d better get that little bitch of a psychic back under control. She was beginning to think she really was a princess and he couldn’t have her thinking she could band with the queen against him. She didn’t have the power of an elvatian fae, but inside the spell she had political power.

  And this was Underhill. Here, in the land of magical mists, simply believing hard enough could make anything happen. He needed to do something about her and her possible rebellion.

  Humming to himself he straightened out his sleeves and proceeded down the hallway. He needed another chain on her. And he knew exactly where he could find one.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was the time of day when the sun had dropped and the dark had yet to arrive. An early full moon rode low in the sky and Bosco had finally found a secluded place to make contact. When the moon had risen half an hour before, the ring had started a slow burn on his finger, pushing him to find somewhere he could contact his demanding employer.

  The gardens had several hidey-holes, nooks with small benches and secluded hot tubs. He’d had to search hard to find one empty of lovers and trysts but he’d finally succeeded, following a path until it dead-ended at a wall. The small area was nearly enclosed by the wall at the back and a tall hedge of bushes guarded the front and sides. There was a cheerfully burbling fountain that spit water over the sides and only hard pavers to sit on. No one would be coming here for romance.

  He stripped off his tux jacket and hung it and his dress shirt on a protruding brick far away from the spurting fountain. No sense in getting them wet.

  He cast his magic out in a wide circle forming shields that spi
lled into wards. The spell’s dome rose above him, shining silver blue in the twilight. He cupped his hand, blowing more magic onto it, and it shimmered into invisibility, spreading out wide. Good. Now anyone who came within fifty feet would trigger his wards and let him know well before they came too close. He couldn’t afford anyone overhearing what he had to say tonight.

  The moon wasn’t high enough yet to cast any direct light, but he decided to try anyway. There was a thin glow where the lengthening evening shadows stopped and a strong mix of daylight thinned the light of her pale sister. He held the ring out. The large moonstone gleamed but nothing happened.

  He blew out a breath. Old magic wasn’t something he liked dealing with. Magic from the old world combined with moon magic was even worse. The Fir-Bolg had been the first people to find Underhill, using the magic between the worlds to discover this space formed of mists and enchantment and able to be molded into whatever someone with power could imagine. They’d held it, and the connecting lands, for many thousands of years, but while they’d been playing at lords and ladies across the universe their Tuathan enemies on the dying home world had learned a few tricks. When the Tuathan had finally abandoned the elvatian world and come into Underhill it had been as fierce warriors and the battles had been legendary.

  By the time he’d been born, the Fir-Bolg had been losing ground for centuries—the lands they’d had formed in the enchanted mists of Underhill had been divided and conquered by their enemies, and the old world had been mostly forgotten.

  He didn’t know much about it, but he did know the magic that had come from there was potent.

  The ring grew hot on his hand. No one in the castle had given it a second look. It cloaked itself, protecting it and its owner from discovery of whatever magic it might have. Normally he’d never have put it on but he needed this last power bolus to add to the ones he had stashed away. And, his employer hadn’t given him much choice. With this payment he’d finally be the equal of the kings and queens of Underhill. And after a hundred years, he could head back north and make good on his promise to Siobhan to rescue her.