Song looked at Heaven and shook her head with such a tiny movement that it would have been missed by anyone not staring at her. That, coupled with the pleading look in Song's eyes, told Heaven all she needed to know.
"Let me take back that 'uh oh'." She glanced at the prince. "Bloody buggin' bags full of shite is what I should have said."
A guest standing nearby turned and gave Heaven a look of censure to indicate her severe disapproval of the word choice. Heaven just smiled and bowed her head gracefully like she was a courtier in a Renaissance play. The polite vocabulary enforcer seemed to accept that and moved on.
Heaven turned back to ask Song what the plaintive look was about, but she was gone. While Heaven had been posturing for a stranger who needed some business of her own to mind, Song had noticed a little fae with glasses motioning her toward an alcove. Excited by the intrigue and the idea of possibly speaking to the prince, she ducked off to the side. He placed a handwritten note in her hand surreptitiously.
Her heart was beating a little faster as she opened it and read the words, Meet me. -D. She experienced one of those rare, surreal moments when her intuition worked on herself. And she knew her life was going to be permanently divided into everything that had come before that moment and everything that happened after she'd read the note she was crushing in her gloved hand.
Concealing the note in the palm of her hand, she slipped it into her little bag then looked squarely into the face of the messenger.
"Come with me?" The verbal question mark at the end of that phrase left no doubt that it was not a command, but her choice. She nodded her assent. The time for considering was over. Her course had been set before she'd accepted the invitation to attend the prince's party.
Looking back over her shoulder to be sure no one was paying attention, she slipped away doing her best to look nonchalant and no one saw her leave. No one except a double ex vampire who had been asked to take her to the party and see to her safety while out and about in "fairyland". He had no intention of explaining to the Lady Laiken after the fact of whatever was afoot that he'd been too busy to pay attention to Song's comings and goings.
Baka set his glass on a sterling silver tray as it was carried past, excused himself from his conversation with Simon and followed Song with enough stealth to make a shadow envious.
Grieve led her down several deserted and dimly lit hallways, up a half tower of stairs then turned down a tiny curving hall that seemed to branch off and double back. He stopped next to another set of stairs leading higher.
"Down there." He pointed to the ground.
She stared at the stone steps beneath their feet. "Down where?"
"Fae Gods! You be elf!" he practically hissed.
She narrowed her eyes thinking it amazing that he had discerned that as the result of the utterance of two words. "Aye."
He stared for a moment, pressed his lips together, then shook his head. "Down. There!"
She looked closer at where he seemed to be pointing at the ground. At shin level there was an opening in the wall behind the steps. Her eyes jerked up at him. "'Tis a joke?" she hissed. "You can no' be serious! 'Tis your idea or his?"
"Have no fear, elf. You will fit. I assure you. I'm very good at spatial relationships."
"Spatial relationships," she repeated in a dry tone. "By that you would be meanin' the relationship between the flare of my hips and the width of that openin'."
He blushed a little and looked down, not meeting her eye. "Oh, aye."
"You're thinkin' I will be agreein' to acrobatics on a dusty stair? In this dress?" He continued to look at the ground, but said nothing more.
Song bent at the waist to take a closer look thinking that she could not believe she was considering it for even a millisecond. There did appear to be a room beyond the little opening, but it was too dark to make out what was in there. She looked at Grieve. "You'll be gettin' the dry cleanin' bill and 'twon't be cheap. I can promise you that."
With two fearless older brothers, Aelsong wasn't big on shrinking from challenges. She gripped her little beaded evening bag with her teeth so that she could hold onto the banister with both hands and lowered herself part way, feet first, before letting go. Her hips brushed against old stone steps as her lower body let gravity do most of the work.
She let go of the railing, expecting to drop, but squeaked in surprise when strong hands gripped her waist. She knew that scent. Duff Torquil. He chuckled, preening with male satisfaction as he slowly lowered her down the front of his body. Aelsong, who was anything but inexperienced sexually, caught her breath and decided that, fully clothed and in the near dark, it was still easily the single most erotic moment of her life.
There was just enough light in the room to see the extraordinary shine in the prince's eyes. Every cell of their bodies caught the fire of mating excitation as the ancient and mysterious magnetism did its work. He pulled her closer for a sweet and tender kiss that heated to flash boiling. Since neither of them had ever felt mating frenzy, they were both surprised by the intensity and immediacy of the passion.
Duff took hold of her shoulders and forced himself to break the kiss. Taking a step back, he managed to whisper, "H'lo beautiful," even though his breathing was uneven. "You came."
"No' yet." Ram's sister she simply couldn't let that opening slide.
She tore her eyes away long enough to look around. The room under the stairs was where the palace staff kept the royal family's collection of pewter plates, trays, goblets, tankards and pitchers. There was a large rectangular table in the middle of the room laden with gun-metal gray objects and every wall was lined with crowded shelves.
"Where are we?" she whispered.
He glanced around. "Pewter Room."
"How did you know about this?" She waved at the opening between the steps.
"I used to play hide and go seek with other kids whose parents worked here. I never lost and nobody ever figured it out. The hard part was stayin' in here by myself and bein' quiet until they gave up."
"Shows patience."
"Aye. I'm almost out where you're concerned."
They looked at each other in the semi-darkness for a few seconds before throwing themselves into kisses and clutches with renewed fervor. Independently, each was thinking they had never experienced anything in life half as good as the feel of each other and each was thinking they never wanted to stop or let go. Again, Duff pushed away.
"What are we goin' to do?" Song's whispered question was couched in between breaths that were coming fast. She was almost panting.
He reached out for one of her blonde curls and rubbed it between his fingers. His eyes met and searched hers. "Run away?"
She stared into his darkened eyes for a few seconds then grinned. "I will if you will."
He laughed softly. "Let's do and say we did no'."
She nodded enthusiastically while he gave her a crooked little sexy grin. Her features went smooth and he knew the moment she became serious. "Are we kiddin'?"
He searched her face before moving to cup her cheeks in his hands. "I do no' have a better plan. I wish I did." He placed a tender kiss on her forehead and then jerked back. "Do you have a phone in that little purse of yours?" She looked down, opened the clasp, pulled out her phone and handed it to him.
He took it and started adding his contact. "This is a private number. My private number. The ID is 'Yam'." He pulled his own phone from the inner pocket of his jacket and handed it to her. "Give me yours. You can call me anytime, but I will only answer when I can. Do no' leave voice message or text. I will see that you called and call you back when I'm alone."
"YAM?"
He smiled. "You are mine."
Her lips moved as she repeated the words silently. She tore her gaze away from his handsome face long enough to enter her number in his phone.
He looked at the contact. "IAY?"
"Aye. I am yours."
Duff opened his mouth to say something, but heard Grieve's hushe
d voice above their heads. "Sir. Someone's comin'."
Duff grabbed Song and kissed her like he thought he had one minute to live then, placing his forehead against hers, he said one word. "Soon."
He left through the room's actual door on the other side from where she'd dropped in. She heard Grieve speaking to someone above her head and knew she needed to remain as quiet and still as possible. Still feeling the warmth and tingle of his kiss on her mouth, she pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. Her mind was racing, imagining a hundred different scenarios of the future. The only thing they all had in common was a big comfy bed with a big and naked dark fae prince in it. Soon.
She smiled into the shadow-filled room, partly because of the idea of a lifetime with Duff Torquil and partly because it occurred to her that she might actually beat her older brother out of the position of family black sheep. Running off with a fae? She could see her father's face turning reddish-purple. She could see her mother's face pinched with disappointment and worry while hurrying away to oversee composition of a press release. Both her brothers would be turning the air blue enough to change the tint of the sky before vowing to hunt Duff down and skewer him.
At least she wasn't the heir. As difficult as it would be for her, she couldn't begin to imagine what Duff would be up against with his family. She let out a whispered laugh. She never asked to be mated to a fae, but there was no point trying to deny it. Life was strange.
***
CHAPTER_2
Litha sat at the end of a long conference table and watched the head of the Metaphysics and Mysticism Department tong a couple of ice cubes into her glass before he refilled it with water. For the hundredth time that day she wished that she and Storm had never confided to The Order that she was able to slip dimensions because of her something more than half demon heritage.
Sure. She could be the key to answering thousands of questions. From the perspective of paranormal investigators, she was a walking treasure trove. She was also witnessing the signs of her worst nightmare unfolding. They were starting to treat her like property of The Order.
There wasn't much that was less fun than being stuck in a room full of academics in Edinburgh while Storm was half a world away. He'd been summoned to Jefferson Unit. Well, he hadn't actually been summoned, but when his old boss asked to see him, it amounted to the same thing.
She had dropped him off at the New Jersey facility that morning. He had joked that her unusual abilities lent a whole new meaning to the question, "Can I get a ride?"
Storm had suggested that they use the opportunity to take a well-needed break, that she should join him as soon as she finished the current inquiry. Or "inquisition" as she called it. He said they could have a weekend in New York, then go home to the vineyard and regroup. She smiled, remembering that he had leaned into her ear and added, "... in bed," in a breathy whisper that never failed to give her visible shivers and make her nipples bead.
"Mrs. Storm?"
Her thoughts came back to the room, where seven faces were staring and waiting for a reply. "I'm sorry. Could you please repeat the question?"
"Of course. When you said you visited one dimension where they've been doing organic hybrid experiments for so long that there are no full humans..."
"Yes?"
"We're wondering what kind of hybrids have been developed?"
"Animal-human hybrids." It took every bit of patience she could muster to keep from shouting, "Duh!" at the end of that answer.
She glanced at her watch, as she was starting to wonder what she was getting out of her work with The Order. Their pay-off was obvious, but she was beginning to question her role. A quick assessment told her that she was beginning to feel less like an employee or associate and more like a victim. Something needed to change.
Another hour and she'd be gone. What a shame. She used to love her work. As far as she was concerned she was not only done with the questions and answers. She was well done and well on the way to being burned to a crisp.
When Litha had dropped Storm at Jefferson Unit that morning, she took him to Sol's office, partly to keep from causing a stir by materializing in the middle of some high-traffic area like the hub, and partly because one of the best things about emerging from a pass near a Black Swan facility was startling the codgers: Sol and Simon.
It was a joke that just couldn't be repeated so often that it wasn't funny anymore. Litha stayed long enough to make sure Sol hadn't had a heart attack, left her gorgeous husband with a big smile on his face, and vanished.
Storm turned to Sol, who was a little miffed about spilling room temperature coffee all over the front of his gray slacks in a pattern that would raise eyebrows. Sol scowled at the still-chuckling Storm, while dabbing his thighs with paper towels.
The very hour that Storm had announced his retirement - in person - the character of his relationship with the Sovereign had changed and transformed to friendship. On one level it felt like the most natural thing in the world to interact with Sol like he was a peer. Just two veteran knights sharing a coffee. On the other hand, it felt like the strangest thing in the world to have his recruiter, mentor, and former boss relax his demeanor and treat Storm like a peer.
When Sol decided that he had done as much as could be done with the pants, short of sending them to dry cleaning, he motioned for Storm to sit.
"Coffee?"
For a moment Storm wondered if that was a trick question. If he said yes, would he end up with room temperature coffee all over his lap? He decided that Sol was far too staid and mature for that sort of petty payback. And he was right.
"Sure."
Sol picked up the phone and asked for a coffee service for two to be served in the conference room, then moved the meeting next door. He recognized that sitting behind his desk skewed the dynamic in a direction that wouldn't be conducive to his purpose, part of which was to relax his guest. Talking to Storm from the authority side of a desk would suggest an unnecessary formality that would remind them both that, until relatively recently, Storm had had no choice but to do whatever Sol commanded. At least in theory.
Next door in the conference room, Sol motioned to two tufted leather club chairs that sat opposite the wall of windows with a small table between.
When they were seated, he asked, "So. How have you been?"
The inquiry was innocuous, but it gave Storm pause. In fifteen years, Sol had never asked how he was or how he'd been. It took a moment to absorb the oddity of the experience and, in the process, raised a hint of suspicion regarding the Sovereign's motives.
"No complaints. How about you?" Sol nodded without looking up from his coffee, acknowledging Storm's answer, but saying nothing more. After a lag that was starting to feel awkward, Storm ventured further. "Sooooo. You asked to see me?"
Sol brought his eyes up to look Storm in the face. Actually look was probably not the right word. Sol more scrutinized people than looked at them.
"I did. I want to run something past you and I suppose the easiest way is straight ahead."
"Always a good policy."
"Actually there are two things I'd like to scoot past."
"Okay. Shoot."
"Well, first, I do have some news." His face smoothed out into a goofy little smile that was so out of character all Storm could do was stare. Sol might have even looked a little embarrassed. "I'm getting married."
Storm was so grateful that the coffee hadn't arrived because, had he been in mid swallow he would have spewed right before half-choking to death. If he'd ever heard anything more shocking, he'd be hard pressed to remember what it was. After his brain freeze began to abate, when he was once again able to form a coherent and appropriate thought, he said, "Congratulations. Who's the lucky, um, woman?"
"Farnsworth." Sol smiled. "From Operations."
Storm smiled, but with a little squinting of his eyes. "You call your fiancée by her last name?"
Sol shrugged. "It seems to fit. And it's not like she minds."
Sol frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Never mind. You'll find out soon enough."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
Storm just continued to smile and shook his head. "So you want to retire. Good for you. You deserve it."
"I want you to take my place."
Storm's smile vanished as the color quickly drained from his face. Sol didn't have time to notice the reaction because he had turned away and risen to respond to a polite and well-timed knock on the door. He showed the trainee where he wanted the coffee service set up. Storm silently gave the rookie points for how hard he tried to pretend that he didn't notice the wet stain on Sol's pants. When they were alone again, Sol fixed his coffee and noticed Storm hadn't moved.
"What do you like in yours?"
"Oh." Storm's eyes seem to clear as he refocused on Sol and the coffee tray. "Black. One sugar. Thank you."
Sol stirred Storm's coffee, set it on the table next to him, and sat looking at the younger man expectantly.
"I told her I would give it up in two years which would give me time to tie up loose ends and groom somebody for the position." He wagged his head back and forth slightly. "She wants enough time to have some fun while we're still young."
Among other things Storm was trying to imagine referring to himself as "young" when he reached Sol's age.
Since Storm wasn't responding, Sol decided to continue.
"Let's face it, kiddo. I'm just an old vampire hunter witnessing the end of an era and the turning of the page. It's an historic moment for The Order. The Hunters Division is going to need to be reconceived and refitted. The old challenges are on the way out. The new challenges..." He blew out a long exhale. "I don't know. Defense against interdimensional breach?" He looked at Storm. "I'm thinking exit stage left."
Moonlight: The Big Bad Wolf (Black Swan 4) Page 3