by Mary Morgan
O’Malley’s gaze sharpened. “When did ye become my enemy?”
Taking a step near the man, Liam replied, “The day you attempted to steal a jeweled dagger from my brother, Rory.”
The man shrugged and held his arms outward. “Thieving is not an act of war.”
“You’re wrong. It is if the one you’re stealing from is a Fae. We—Rory and I—came at your request. The summons was one of dire importance. However, I sensed the real reason was one of deception.” Liam’s words were as cool and clear as ice water.
A muscle flicked angrily in the man’s jaw. “Are ye calling me a liar?”
“Never,” responded Liam flatly.
O’Malley’s smile never reached his eyes. “Then let us not quarrel further.”
“Nevertheless, I would not think this act of saving me is one that needs to count as a debt of payment to you.”
He regarded him for several moments. After spitting into his hand, he held it outward. “Deal.”
Liam narrowed his eyes. “No, only in agreement. A Fae makes no deals with the leader of the travelers. I seek nothing from you that requires an exchange.”
A flash of anger showed briefly over the man’s features and then vanished. Wiping his hand on his shirt, O’Malley turned to leave and then stayed his steps. He glanced over his shoulder. “All men have need of something, even you, MacGregor. Beware the words you have spoken here today.”
Liam watched the man descend the hill in steady strides.
Bringing his attention to the present, Liam understood the predicament he faced with the O’Malley. He had one item of value on him. As he absently brushed his hand over the hilt of his sword, he thought of other ways to appease the man. Abela had two blades, so maybe she would be willing to part with one. In his recollections, the O’Malley did favor any weapon from the Fae realm.
She slept soundly next to him, soft snores escaping every so often. His minx was exhausted from traveling through time. Yes, her landings were unskilled, but she did manage to see them through. He worried more about her strength and ability when they met with the travelers. They were known to weave their own charm over the Fae, and he did not intend to let Abela fall prey to this group of humans.
Liam rested his head back on the stone and closed his eyes. One more treaty and we can return home.
For the next several hours, he kept his Fae senses alert, but allowed his body to get the required rest. An owl hooted nearby, so he sent out a message to the bird to alert him of any intruders. When the flames dwindled, Liam blew across his palm and ignited the dying embers. Heat and light flooded their small enclosure.
Abela snuggled more against him, wrapping an arm around his waist. Gently, he brought his arm out and placed it around her shoulders. Her honeysuckle scent filled him. Even after all these decades, he yearned for her. Time, battles, and other liaisons had not diminished his emotions. He deemed he sought out the Pleasure Gardens in the Fae realm to rid her essence from him. Yet, he left feeling empty, and one night he vowed to never return.
Taking the end of her braid, Liam wove the soft hair around his finger. Black as ebony, the lock glistened in the soft glow of the fire. She’d tempted him beyond reason. Once, he thought there might have been a destiny for them, but her words of rejection slammed the door on any possibility. If she had no desire to claim him, why did Abela come to his initiation?
“Why witness my ceremony?” He let out a frustrated breath and brought the braid to his lips.
“Because I never said goodbye,” she uttered softly. Lifting her head, her eyes sought his and her cheeks colored from the heat of his gaze.
Liam was unable to look away from her beauty. “No. I recall harsh words and tears.”
“We were young—naïve.”
“Stubborn and set on a path of adventure,” he added.
“But our roads have led us to this fork, so to speak.”
He cupped her chin. “Was it destined?” He felt her tremble from his touch.
“I am not a seer,” she replied, darting her tongue out along her bottom lip.
His mind screamed at him to move away. She was a princess—a priestess. But the temptation to taste her lips once more seeped into his being. Liam bent his head and placed a feather-like kiss on the corner of her mouth.
A small breathless whisper escaped her lips, “More.”
Her invitation sparked a desire that had remained sealed. Cupping the back of her head, he continued to kiss her tenderly on the eyes, nose, and forehead. As he shifted his position, Liam brought his arms around her and dared to feast on something that was forbidden. If death was his future, he wanted one more kiss to take with him.
He moved his mouth over hers, devouring its softness. He reveled in the heady sensations as his tongue sought entry into her velvety warmth. Her moan entered his body, and Liam crushed her against his chest. His kiss became more urgent—demanding, and she met his fierce possession with her own. He craved Abela like no other, and the passion of claiming her consumed his thoughts.
When he brushed a hand beneath the folds of her cloak, he cupped her breast. She drew her head back and arched into him. Her heat surrounded him, and he longed to strip the clothes from their bodies. “Take it off,” he demanded in a hoarse voice.
She tugged at her cloak, pushing the garment free from her shoulders. Her eyes blazed with passion. He gasped when she quickly straddled him and tugged at the lacings on his tunic. “I have longed to touch your skin,” she teased, stroking a finger across his collarbone.
“You’re playing with fire, Abela.”
Aware of his growing desire, she moved against him. “We have been playing this game for some time, I believe.”
He let out a groan and recaptured her lips. This time he let his hand slip under her tunic. His fingers grazed over the taut nipple as he explored the softness of her breast. Liam ached to bury himself deep within his minx. Possess her body and soul. Take her to the stars and beyond. Fill her with pleasures she never knew existed.
Breaking free of the kiss, he grasped her bottom and nudged it over his swollen cock. “Is this what you crave?”
Her breathing was labored, and she rocked in a rhythm as old as time.
“Answer me,” he ordered.
“I have always desired you,” she confessed. “Is that what you want to hear?” She lifted her hand. “With one word, I can remove our clothing.”
Liam’s heart pounded, the words slamming into his mind and heart. His eyes clouded with images of the past. “Then why did you send me away when I came to your chambers that summer evening?”
Abela blinked in confusion. “You were leaving.”
His hands shook as he shifted her off his body. Standing, Liam raked a hand through his hair. Placing his fists on the stone mantel, he glanced over his shoulder. “One word, Abela. One word from you and I would have stayed.”
She stood slowly, and he watched the play of emotions on her face.
“You can’t even answer me,” he stated in disgust and moved away from the hearth. Grabbing her cloak, he tossed the garment at her.
As he made his way out of the cottage, her words caused him to pause.
“I wanted you for more than one night, Liam.”
He stormed back to her and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Did it not occur to you I desired the same? You never gave me the chance to say what was in my heart.”
Abela shirked out of his embrace. “I’m supposed to believe the words from a Fae who frequently visited the Pleasure Gardens?” Fury sparked within the depths of her lavender eyes.
He raked his gaze over her. “I guess we shall never find out, Abela. And let me make this clear. I did not once visit the Gardens while we were together. I sought only to spend time with you. I don’t know where you came upon your information, but that particular one is false.”
“My brother would never lie to me,” she claimed.
Liam took a step back. “You are a fool, Abela. Conn would have done anything
to make sure you were protected and see me enter the Brotherhood.”
Her chest heaved with anger. “I don’t believe you!”
“Sadly, that has always been your problem.” Liam blew out a sigh of frustration and walked out of the cottage.
Storming away from the place, he wanted to distance himself from Abela. The cold stream beckoned him to cool the burning rage he had for Conn. He no longer cared if the entire Fae realm descended upon them. Actually, he wished the Fenian Warrior would present himself right now. He’d have a few colorful words for the bastard, along with a fist to his face. All these centuries and not once did Conn mention knowing about his relationship with Abela. Or did he fill her mind with foul lies, so she would spurn him? Regardless, the deed had been done.
As he approached the stream, he stripped completely. When the first icy sting of water touched his skin, he bit back a curse. Submerging his body, he released the tide of ferocity into the stream. He swam swiftly with the current.
By the time he returned to the land, not only had he closed the door on his anger, but also on his lustful feelings for Abela. Once, they might have had a future. She had chosen her path, and he walked another. Even now, their futures were strained, undetermined. The focus had to be in obtaining the last treaty and returning to the kingdom. Emotions and lust only clouded their mission.
Nevertheless, the day of reckoning with Conn MacRoich was an absolute certainty.
****
Conn tried to temper his impatience. Never could he have imagined the difficulty of finding two Fae. From the moment they entered the human world, all traces of his sister and Liam were non-existent. Each Fae carried an elemental signature, but for some unfathomable reason, they were unable to find any. He had no knowledge of where they would flee, and this made it difficult.
Pacing the outer edges of the forest, he tried to recall fragments of past conversations with Abela. Even his recent discussions had been fleeting. He'd thought of her as one with Mother Danu, safe and off limits within the temple. Was it all a ruse to remain hidden? When he sought entrance at the temple doors to speak with the elder priestess about his sister’s disappearance, she refused to offer him an audience.
Even Rory could offer no viable explanation for Liam’s behavior. His brother had never spoken about Abela. The two shared their conquests in The Pleasure Gardens, but nothing else.
Conn knelt on one knee. Placing his palm upon the ground, he searched the land, stretching his magic in a wide arc. He swept along the veins deep within the earth, probing for the smallest speck of essence from her. Silence greeted him, and he smacked the hard dirt. Standing, he fisted his hands on his hips. This was going to be a tedious journey.
He studied the landscape. Memories of being in this exact spot over a year ago consumed him. His journey began in Ireland on an uncertain future. Now he found himself contemplating his own sister’s future. She’d actually assisted him through one of the darkest moments in his life with Ivy.
“Why Liam?”
Ronan approached quietly by his side. “Nothing from the animal kingdom.”
He kept his sight on a lone hawk hovering in the distance. The bird had sought out its prey as the rabbit skittered out from within a bush. If it had remained hidden, the hawk would have flown to another part of the land.
Conn narrowed his eyes in thought. “Camouflage.”
“Explain.”
“Abela is shielding herself and Liam. It’s a form of magical camouflage—one she is extremely good at performing.”
Ronan brushed a hand across his brow. “The king and queen possess this power—”
Conn placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “So does my sister. It’s one of her varied gifts. I had forgotten this peculiar power.”
“Then we are at an impasse,” stated Ronan.
Releasing his hold, Conn clasped his hands behind his back. “She cannot maintain the shield much longer, given she is in the human world. Time moves more swiftly here. Soon, it will collapse, and we will be able to find them both.”
“Where do you think they went? If they are on foot, they are not far. Let us each take a direction and search,” Ronan suggested.
Conn shrugged as he continued to view the lazy circles of the hawk. “When I returned last year, I found a horse to take me near Dublin. Abela or Liam could have done the same.”
“There were none,” countered Ronan and stepped away.
His anger grew as he turned toward the warrior. “No! I will not accept the alternative.”
Ronan’s eyes widened as if he came to the same conclusion as Conn. “Did they travel the Veil of Ages?”
“By the hounds!” snapped Conn, recalling the earlier words of warning from his father within his mind. “My sister is proving to be one step ahead of us. If she has the Stone of Ages, she might be able to travel through the vortex.”
“Especially if Liam speaks the ancient words. A strong possibility,” added Rory, appearing magically through colored mists with Taran following closely behind him.
“Anything?” demanded Conn, trying to temper his fury.
“No. Yet, I’m beginning to agree with your theory,” replied Rory. “They must have known how foolish it would be to remain in the present here in Ireland.”
Conn threw up his hands in aggravation. “What is their purpose? To avoid death? Why didn’t Liam thwart this plan? Was he not the honorable warrior we all believed him to be?” He glanced at the warriors gathered, each remaining silent. They held no answers. There were only two Fae who could give an accurate account to this sheer madness, and he was determined to search to the stars for them.
Rory shifted his stance. “My brother has always been one to maintain control in any situation, regardless of his emotions. One of his greatest battle qualities, but this is beyond my comprehension.”
Conn drew in a breath and released it slowly. “Time is fleeting. I now share this knowledge with you. It is unknown how long Abela can survive in the human world. As you have recently learned, we—the Fenian Warriors—are the only Fae who are allowed to travel away from the kingdom and through the Veil of Ages. Apparently, the king sought fit to inform me of this new revelation.”
Rory started to protest, and he held his hand up to still his words.
“It is an ancient law and one that is written down in the annals of some tome. I have ordered it to be joined with the other volumes of knowledge within the Brotherhood.”
“It is an important piece of Fae information we should have known,” complained Rory.
“Agreed,” echoed the other warriors.
“Regardless, we must proceed quickly,” commanded Conn. “I suggest we travel to the nearest standing stones. There will be residual energy, something Abela did not factor in when she concocted her scheme.”
“But where did they go?” asked Taran. “The humans have a saying—it’s like searching for a needle in a haystack.”
“I believe this one is worse,” argued Conn, turning toward Rory. “Any time period your brother favored?”
Rory tapped a finger to his mouth in concentration. “Hmm…Liam is more scholar than warrior, so toss out anything relating to battle times. He enjoyed visiting and working with Prince Albert on designs for locomotives in Victorian England. Then there was the time he talked for hours about his time with Leonardo DaVinci—from paintings to inventions.” He chuckled softly. “Yet, he favored most the time spent with Aidan Kerrigan on the archaeological digs. Remember, he was Aileen’s guardian.”
“Still,” corrected Conn. “He has maintained a vigil over her and Stephen, especially after the death of Aidan. He thought it was his duty to the warrior.”
Rory nodded. “Then I deem we have our first point of origin to search for them. Yet, what year do we venture to?”
“We follow their trail through the stones,” responded Conn tersely.
Chapter Twelve
“I dared not risk my heart being shredded like the petals of a flo
wer during a thunderstorm.”
~Diary of Princess Abela
The air hummed with energy as they galloped closer to the Irish Traveler’s camp. Abela had heard all the tales, some even spoken in whispers among her people about these Irish folk. Long ago, when the Fae dwelled with the humans, the travelers lured many with song, food, and drink. Although there were some who were good decent men and women, others schemed to procure the powers of the Fae. They used dark and twisted methods to coerce many. Some succeeded with their drug induced potions and spells, leaving those Fae immobile, or worse dead.
A sense of unease washed over her as she darted a glance at Liam. He had warned her of the danger, so she made a vow to keep her tongue silent and permit him to do all the talking. If any questions were directed toward her, Abela would give curt and concise answers.
The O’Malley had a keen inner sixth sense.
As they crossed the stream, Liam directed them southward. The area opened up to reveal a sprawling landscape dotted with cottages here and there. Farmers milled about their chores and some gave a passing wave. Abela forced a smile, and she gripped the reins of her mount more fully as a man tipped his cap to her.
Her heart remained bruised from Liam’s slashing remarks last evening. How could they have gone from passionate kisses to biting words in a matter of moments? Liam had given her no promises. He only spoke of desires, wants, and needs. She was confused, wary. When she sought out Conn for advice about his friend, he warned her to stay away. He professed the man liked to dabble in sexual favors within the Pleasure Gardens. Additionally, he shared that Liam's brother, Rory, was a frequent member of the Gardens as well. Trusting Conn, she went back to her chambers and refused to see Liam anymore and sent him curt messages. She'd chastised herself for many days, until she heard about his initiation into the Brotherhood. Her heart broke fully on that day.
“Was it all a lie?” she asked, lifting her head to the sky. She returned her sight to the man riding ahead of her. “Was there more? If so, I am the fool.”
Regardless of her past emotions, Abela had to close the door forever. Bitterness had replaced joy. Now that Liam knew what happened, there was no point in going forward. She only prayed this course of direction they were taking would set him free.
