Bewitch Me: The Red Veil Diaries: A Witchy/Fae Romance

by Marianne Morea

  All the magic she thought she had at her fingertips was useless against a full Sidhe. Gareth was gone. Her mind rebelled against the thought. This was not happening. Yet, here she stood. Facing her father, alone.

  Another wave of his hand reset his wards, and just like that, she was cut off from the only way she knew to get home.

  Lane steeled her jaw and lifted her eyes to the man who ruined her life. The man responsible for taking everything she loved. The fire Leith used to kill Gareth had hardened her to the core. If he wanted a protégé, he’d get one in spades. At least until she could turn the tables and burn his ass the same way he had the man she loved.

  “You took a life. Now it’s time to relinquish one,” she said, finally.

  “You are in no position to bargain, little girl.”

  “Let Eve go.”

  He sheathed the knife from her friend’s throat and Eve’s shoulders slumped.

  “Not good enough.”

  He cocked his head. “Convince me, then.”

  “Eve served her purpose. She got me here. Now let her go.”

  He shrugged, and then snapped his fingers. Eve disappeared with a shriek, but it was his laughter that jerked her gaze back to his ice blue eyes.

  “Where is she? I said let her go.”

  “Ah, yes. But you didn’t specify where.”

  Lane clenched her fists, ignoring the burning in her palms. She itched to burn his ass, but right now it was futile and a waste of energy. She needed to conserve her resources and feel out the situation.

  “Why are you playing games, Leith? You wanted me here, but really, isn’t the cost a little high?”

  He shrugged. “The cost isn’t mine, my dear.” He smoothed the front of his velvet coat. “Still, Eve may prove a bargaining chip yet. I sent her to my castle. But don’t worry, she has at least three friends there who know her intimately.”

  If the bastard meant his three bloodsuckers, then obviously, Leith didn’t know everything. Not when his vampire mafia was down one head, literally, and the rest were tied up in silver.

  Xax would have found Rémy by now, letting him and the others know what happened. Not that they could help.

  “Asshole, haven’t you heard you catch more flies with honey than vinegar? You want me so badly, you arranged this elaborate scheme, yet instead of trying to entice me, your first instinct was to frighten and bully me. Dude, it’s Machiavellianism 101 in reverse. You always try the sweets before the sour. Then again, my mother said you were good looking. She never said you were smart.”

  “So, you knew about me.”

  She shook her head. “Not until yesterday. But I wasn’t wrong all these years. You were just a sperm donor.”

  A slash formed on his lips and his fingers curled. The energy that crackled, though, he extinguished as quickly as it sparked. “You can blame your whore of a mother for that. I was robbed of the chance to be your father, but that is something I plan to remedy.”

  She nearly laughed in his face. “Well, daddy dearest, you’re off to one hell of a start.” Lane watched his face, and in that moment, she knew she had him. Not exactly where she wanted, but it was a start.

  “You want me for a protégé or whatever? I’ll bite, but I have a few conditions.”

  She’d just learned the hard way about not being specific, and she wasn’t about to make the same mistake. She had to out-cunning the master.

  “Name your price.”

  “First, I want Eve safely returned to the motherhouse, unharmed, in one piece, with her mind and body intact as it was before you took her from the Red Veil.

  “Second, I want Gareth restored and returned to the Seelie Court, also unharmed, in one piece, with his mind and body intact before you hit him with your fire ball.

  “Next, I want to get a message to Caitlan, the Supreme of the Circle of the Ravens. I want her to know I’m well and staying in Faerie with you of my own volition, and I want the message to be timely. That means Earth time, not Faerie time.”

  He smirked. “You sound like you’ve had dealing with the Djinn.”

  “More like dealings with the cocksucker who sired me. I trust no one and nothing, Leith. From here on in, it’s all about me and what I want.”

  Pride seemed to spark in his eyes, and the smile creeping on his lips made her ill. She dismissed the feeling. There was no time to indulge anything but revenge and getting the hell out of here with the people she loved.

  “Oh, and one last thing, Leith.”

  He inclined his head, waiting.

  “I have reason to believe my mother is still alive, and I think you know exactly where she is. I want to see her. Not in a scrying surface or in a memory, but for real, face to face—and she better be healthy and hearty, or hell will reign.”

  He chuckled, impressed. “How I got you off that wilted rose of a Raven is beyond me. You inherited your mother’s pretty face, but there’s much more of me in you than you think. You’re quick and resourceful, as well as adaptive. Do well to hone those traits.” He turned with a flourish. “Very well. If you wish to see your mother, then so be it.” He clapped his hands, and in that moment everything went dark.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lane woke to slatted light winking in from a shuttered window. Blinking to adjust, she tried to sit up, only to wince back against a lumpy pillow.

  A dull throb pounded the top of her head in time with nauseous waves in her stomach. She dragged her arm across her eyes, hoping the counterpressure would help.

  “Easy now. Give yourself a chance. It’ll take a bit for your body to shake off Leith’s touch. Gentle isn’t a word in his vocabulary.”

  At the soft feminine voice, Lane pulled her arm back. “If you mean what I think you mean, then he’s more of a sick fuck than I thought.”

  The woman flashed a shy smile. “I haven’t heard that accent or that kind of language in a very long time.”

  Her hand was soft as she brushed Lane’s hair back to place a cool towel on her forehead. “He didn’t touch you, sweetheart. Not in that way, anyway. He saves that particular cruelty for me.”

  The woman looked to be in her mid-thirties, with flawless skin and long, sandy blonde hair that fell to her waist in a thick braid. Her eyes were dove-gray, but dulled, as if all the hope had gone out of her life.

  There was something familiar about her, but Lane couldn’t place it. Not until the sad woman leaned over to adjust a pillow.

  Her pendant came loose from her bodice and swung forward. Lane gripped the woman’s arm, all pain and nausea forgotten.

  “Is your name Aislinn?” she asked, her eyes taking in every detail of the woman’s face.

  She nodded but didn’t offer anything more.

  The door opened and Eve came in carrying a pitcher and washbowl, with a white cloth over her arm.

  “Lane!” She rushed forward, water sloshing. “Thank God! Oh, Laney! I knew you’d never give up on me!”

  The pitcher and the rest clattered as she dropped them on the nearest table and rushed to give Lane a hug.

  Aislinn’s eyes went unblinking as the realization hit, and Lane stared at her from over Eve’s hug.

  “Laney Belle?” She froze with her daughter’s hand still on her arm.

  Lane’s throat tightened against any kind of words, so all she could do was nod.

  Eve backed off and stared at the two. “Wait, are you saying this is your…I mean Laney is…”

  “Yes, child. To all of the above.” Aislinn’s voice was barely a whisper as disbelief changed to fleeting joy, but it was regret and censure that took control. She looked away, slipping her arm from Lane’s grip.

  “No. Don’t do that,” Lane said, sitting up. “This is not your fault. I chose to be here…and I made him agree to certain conditions. One of them was you.”

  Aislinn sniffed hard. “You chose to be here. That tells me I failed. Miserably.”

  Shaken, she got up from the bed and walked toward the window. Pulling bac
k the shutters, she let the room fill with overcast light. “You chose to be here, where it’s always either winter or fall.”

  Aislinn kept her gaze outside. “Caitlan must have given you my letter if you thought to demand anything of your father, let alone to see me.”

  “That megalomaniac is not my father. He’s a sperm donor.”

  Turning, Aislinn shook her head with a self-disdaining snort. “Then how can I be your mother when I abandoned you?”

  “Don’t. You did what you did to protect me.” Lane got up from the bed, not caring about the cold, damp floor on her bare feet.

  “Caitlan did give me your letter. But only because Leith was sniffing around. I know leaving me with the Ravens was the hardest thing you ever had to do. That you stayed with me all that time told me you tried. You weren’t wrong about binding my powers.”

  “But?”

  Lane looked at the way the breeze blew loose tendrils around her face. The simple image brought so many memories

  “No buts, just a question.”

  With an inhale, Aislinn lifted her chin, as if bracing herself. “What do you want to know?”

  “My only question is why didn’t you stay after you and Caitlan bound my Sidhe side? The Circle of the Raven was your home, too. The motherhouse would have protected you as well.”

  Aislinn looked at the floor. “Seven years on the human plane is barely seven days here in Faerie.” She looked up again, her eyes were dry. “Any longer and Leith would have gotten suspicious. I could risk a week, but no more. To be honest, I still can’t believe I managed it. Those years with you were the happiest of my life, and the memories have sustained me since.”

  She moved to crouch by a stone slate near an inside wall. Wiggling the loose rock, she took a metal box from a hole behind the slate.

  Aislinn lifted the lid, pulling out a clear plastic bag. “My most precious possessions,” she said. “Pictures of you and me.”

  Lane looked at the mementoes in her mother’s hand, and then stared at the woman she remembered, but barely knew. “Stored in an iron strongbox.”

  “Yes. Hidden but unlocked, because no Fae would dare touch it.”

  Eve moved to look at the pictures through the Ziplock bag. “Laney, you were so cute. You look just like Aislinn. Even now it’s easy to see you’re her daughter.”

  Lane wasn’t paying attention. Her eyes hadn’t moved from Aislinn’s face. “If you knew how to escape home, why didn’t you do so beforehand?”

  “Leith wasn’t always the way he is now. I was happy with him. Happy being here. I barely noticed the changes in him until it was too late. Truth is, I didn’t want to leave until he became so cruel and hungry for power there was no way I could let him know about you.”

  “Then how did he find out about Lane?” Eve asked, handing the pictures back. “Did you tell him?”

  Aislinn’s eyes went wide. “God, no! He’d have to kill me first.”

  “Then how?” Eve asked again. “Because his plan to find Lane, and lure her here, was pretty elaborate for something he’d just learned about. I was taken by mistake. I think he and his cohorts thought Lane would be in that backroom. The club where it all went down is one of her favorite haunts, but he got me instead. Still, everything I suffered is nothing compared to the lives lost in this mess.”

  Aislinn’s eyes welled. “I don’t know how he found out about Lane, and I’m so very sorry for everything you two have endured.”

  Lane unfolded her arms from her chest. “Leith’s machinations are not your fault. He’s the one responsible. Any normal person who found they had a secret daughter would have contacted me in a normal way. Met me for coffee. Bought me dinner. Not try and kidnap me.”

  Raking a hand through her hair, she took in the layout of the room. Her gaze moved from the window to the door and then back to both women.

  “Eve, you came in with that pitcher and stuff from somewhere outside, so we obviously have the freedom to move around.”

  “We are at dun Sliabh Creagach,” Aislinn replied. “It’s the seat of Leith’s ancestral home. Loosely translated, it means jagged mountain.” She swept a hand toward the window.

  “Look outside. We’re perched on a cliff facing the sea. We have free roam because there’s literally nowhere else to go.”

  Lane moved to the window beside her mother. Aislinn was right about that. The water was dark and beautiful, but despite its majesty, the rocks around the shore were deadly.

  She turned abruptly, taking Aislinn’s hand. “There has to be another way. Think.”

  “I don’t see how. The portal I used to get home has been sealed since I returned. Leith must have suspected I was testing out an escape, so he had it destroyed. The only other portal is from here to the Seelie Court. We might be able to open it, but they’d never let us through.”

  “Not even for sanctuary?” Eve asked, nodding as she looked at Lane. “Contrary to what Caitlan thinks, I actually paid attention in class. We could ask for asylum.”

  Lane dropped her eyes for a moment. “I lost someone dear to me in the Middle Course when we came looking for a way in to rescue Eve. He had sanctuary at the Seelie Court.”

  Eve moved to Lane’s side to take her other hand, and the three of them stood in the stone window overlooking the tumultuous sea.

  “I saw what happened during that fight. Who was he, Lane?”

  Lane looked up with a sniff. “It was Gareth, Eve. He was the love of my life. Someone I thought lost to this godforsaken plane and this so-called superior race. Leith wasn’t the first of his kind to become drunk on the thought of power.” She filled them in on Gareth’s story.

  “I watched Mason die, too,” Eve said, her voice barely a whisper. “It was horrible. And to think I used to think the undead mysterious and sexy. They’re nothing but coldhearted predators.”

  Lane squeezed her hand. “I know, honey. And the undead bastards that helped themselves to his life are getting their hearts and fangs ripped out by their Master Adjudicator. Or at least I hope so. There are a lot of moving parts to this thing.

  “We can talk later about the miles of therapy we’re facing after we get out of here, but first; we need a plan. We have each other, and we’re not without skills. Three Ravens form a circle of three times three times three.”

  Eve smiled and even giggled the way she used to before this mess. “And you’re a halfling Sidhe. So, hell yeah. I’m in.”

  “How?” Aislinn voiced. “I just said there’s no portal open to us, even to the Middle Course. Only the Seelie Court.”

  Lane nodded. “Exactly. And I’m wearing Gareth’s claim.” She lifted her palm, showing them the sigil. “When he was alive it shimmered translucent gold, but since the Middle Course…”

  Her voice trailed, and she let go of Eve’s hand to run a finger over the dull white scar. “Well, at least it’s still a pretty design.”

  “It’s beautiful, Lane.” Eve took her hand again.

  “Yes.” She nodded again. “Let’s hope it’s also our ticket out of here. Maybe it’ll give Leith a stroke that someone laid claim to me first.” She smiled.

  Aislinn loosed her hand from their strategizing. “If we’re really going to do this, then we don’t have much time. In this castle, servants’ eyes and ears are everywhere. Eve and I managed to ward this room to give us some privacy, but only just barely. The manor is like a trip wire. Anything but a gossamer touch sets off alarms.”

  “God, that man is not just a megalomaniac, he’s paranoid as shit.” Lane exhaled a disgusted grunt.

  “He is what he is, Laney Belle. We can’t worry about that now. He has plans for you. I know him, sweetheart. He won’t want to wait. The servants have most likely let him know you’ve stirred from the portal’s magical backlash. Everyone thinks it’s so easy for the Fae to abduct unwilling victims. It’s not. It takes as much out of them as it does the abductee.”

  “You sound almost sorry he suffered dragging me and Eve here.” Lan
e paused, sparing a look for Eve.

  “Aislinn, if you have any doubts, you have to voice them now. We can’t have you go all Stockholm Syndrome on us at the last minute.”

  Her mother shook her head. “I’m in. If only to get you two back where you belong. I don’t really care about me.”

  “You should. Just because your lover changed course mid-trip doesn’t mean you’re obligated to ride the crazy train with him.” Eve nodded. “Besides, you look amazing. You left the human realm twenty years ago, but you don’t look like you’ve aged at all.”

  Aislinn patted Eve’s arm. “I’ve aged all right. Mentally and emotionally. Even if the packaging is well preserved.”

  “Good genes.” Lane slipped her arm around Aislinn’s shoulders. “Like mother, like daughter.”

  Lane pecked her mother’s cheek and then left their huddle to hunt for her clothes.

  “They’re not here, honey,” Aislinn said. “Leith wants us all to dress in Fae fashion.”

  She sat on the end of the bed, scrubbing the heel of her palm into her eye. “Great. So, we all look like extras from the Lord of the Rings.”

  “I thought Renaissance Festival, but either works,” Eve said, opening the wardrobe. “C’mon, Laney. At least they’re pretty. Think of it like playing dress-up.”

  Lane exhaled, but then squared her shoulders and got up from the bed. “Maid Marion does manslaughter,” she mumbled.

  Dressed and ready to play their parts, the three women sat in the manor’s courtyard. Leith hadn’t showed yet and waiting ratcheted the tension for everyone.

  “Maybe he knows and isn’t coming,” Eve whispered, holding her needlepoint. “And what the hell is it you’ve got me sewing? I’m a twenty-first century witch, not a homespun hack.”

  “Shut it, Eve. Until we have lift off, just play the game. He thinks this is a cat and mouse, but he’s about to find out he’s up against a pride of lionesses and he’s lunch.” Lane gripped the wooden frame of her needlepoint so tightly it cracked.

  The overcast sky had broken into a dull sunshine. A cool breeze off the water stirred the sheer trim on Lane’s dress, and she frowned. Under any other circumstances, she’d love this level of cosplay. But this gave new meaning to the term ladies-in-waiting.