A Touch of Fae

by Lauren Dane

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  A Touch of Fae

  ISBN # 1-4199-0362-4

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  A Touch of Fae Copyright© 2005 Lauren Dane

  Edited by: Ann Leveille.

  Cover art by: Niki Browning.

  Electronic book Publication: August 2005

  This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Warning:

  The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. A Touch of Fae has been rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers.

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic), and X (X-treme).

  S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.

  E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature.

  X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

  A Touch of Fae

  Lauren Dane

  Dedication

  As always, for Ray, who loves me even when I’m grumpy and editing. For my children, who help me appreciate the wonder of the magic in the world. Mom and Dad, even though I cringe at the thought that you may actually read my books, I’d be lost without all the support you give me.

  Special thanks go to the fabulous ladies in my Yahoo loop who keep me writing with their excellent feedback and encouragement. To my ever so wonderful beta readers who never pull punches just to get free hot sexy stories—Di, Julia and Tracy—my books are better because of your input.

  Sparkles and Piston, how can I express how important your friendship is to me? Having people who are where you are and get what you’re going through and who also have great talent and insight is such a blessing. Oh, and all of the giggling is just icing.

  And last but not least, Ann, my own personal grammar goddess—thank you.

  Trademarks Acknowledgment

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Hermès Paris: Hermès International

  Gucci: Gucci America, Inc.

  Kate Spade: Kate Spade, LLC

  Leisure Suit Larry: Sierra Entertainment, Inc.

  Prada: Prefel S.A. Corporation

  Guardian: Guardian Newspaper Limited

  Jacuzzi: Jacuzzi, Inc.

  Chapter One

  Em Charvez hurried along Pirate’s Alley toward The Grove, her family’s shop. It was January and the brightly colored walls and doors of the narrow passage greeted her as she held her coat closed against the wind and the rain. The drops fell sideways in icy missiles, pelting her already chilled skin, stinging her face and hands. She cursed herself for forgetting an umbrella, although in this kind of weather it would have blown inside out anyway.

  Minutes before, as the storm approached on the wind, she’d stood on the banks of the river staring at the white froth of the waves and the steel gray hue of the water. The water could be muddy, green or that gray blue, the river had always held a deep fascination for her and she often came to walk the Moonwalk when she needed to think about things.

  Hoping to beat the storm but wanting to warm up she’d stopped at Café Du Monde for a café au lait and a bag of beignets on her way to the shop. Just as she’d crossed the street and entered Jackson Square the rain had started and she hurried along as best she could, knowing that she’d be soaked by the time she got to work.

  Her heart began to lighten as she approached the block that held The Grove. She walked through the front door. The jingling of the chimes and the scents of the oils and herbs assailed her and calmed her frustration at having to leave the research she’d been doing with the books and papers she brought back from Chicago.

  The shop held all manner of magical items as well as healing herbs and teas, special aromatic candles and oils and readings done by her grandmere and her tante Lou. More than any other place, it was her spiritual home.

  “Hey! How are you?” her sister Lee called out.

  “Wet and cold. But I did bring you something,” she answered as she dropped the bag with the still-hot beignets on the counter.

  “Oh! Thank you, Em! My favorite,” her sister said and dug into the bag, pulling out the sweet dough confection and eating it, getting grease and powdered sugar everywhere in the process.

  Em laughed as she hung up her coat and caught the towel her grandmere tossed her way to dry her hair off with.

  “So tell me already, little raven. I can see how excited you are,” her grandmere said as Em took a long drink of the chicory-flavored coffee and sighed with satisfied pleasure as the heat coursed through her system.

  Em smiled at the use of her childhood nickname. “You know me too well, Grandmere. I’ve found something interesting in some of the books and papers from Alex’s grandfather’s collection. I have this feeling that the demon lord isn’t done with us, with trying to break the Compact. It’s all a matter of how. So I’ve been keeping an eye out in my research and well, I’ve found something.” Her grandmere sighed and nodded in agreement. Em pulled out a sheet that she’d photocopied before she left Chicago the week before. “This passage refers to some ancient text on chaotic magic, there’s this sketch in the margin.” Em picked up a pen and sketched a facsimile of the faint drawing on a separate piece of paper. “Have you ever seen this?” she asked her grandmere.

  The older woman looked at the group of odd runic symbols carefully, tracing them thoughtfully with a fingertip. “No, but this seems familiar.”

  That had been niggling at her, she could almost feel what the symbol meant but she couldn’t quite grasp it. It kept eluding her and she was frustrated. She was glad she wasn’t the only one. “It does, doesn’t it? Well, anyway,” she said as she folded up the paper, put it back into her bag and tossed it into a chair, “I have so much more of the Carter Collection to catalog and go through. I can’t believe how wonderful Alex is being over this.”

  Lee hugged her sister tightly. “Alex is a great guy, isn’t he? He knows how much you love books and the idea of being the first on the path of light to read some of those ancient dark magic texts. You know how hesitant he was to take anything from his grandfather at first. If it wasn’t for you talking with him about the historical importance of the collection, who knows where it would have ended up. So of course he’s only too happy to let you at them first.”

  “Well, still, I know that others have asked to see the collection but that he’s put them off until I’m done. It’s a very sweet thing for him to do.”

  Lee shrugged with a smile. “You know that Alex wants you to be the curator of the collection and you know that you’re more than qualified for the job. Alex will let other people view the collection but as far as he’s concerned, it’s your decision as to how an
d when that happens.”

  Lee watched the flush of pleasure come over Em’s face at the compliment. Lee loved her sister very much but she didn’t always understand her. Eric was Lee’s twin brother and they had an unspoken rapport that she wished she had with her sister. She wasn’t empathic like Em was, but she could tell that something was wrong, that Em seemed unhappy and a bit melancholy. Over the last year, especially over the last six months since Lee’s wedding and the vanquishing of the dark mage in Chicago, her sister had felt more and more distant.

  Truth was, Lee was more than a bit jealous of Alex. He seemed to understand her sister better than she did. The two of them seemed to really strike a chord with books and magic and research and Alex connected with Em in a way that she wished she could. Em and Alex had talked of nothing but those books for the last month. More often than not when Em called or stopped by it was to talk to Alex instead of Lee.

  Seeing the distance and the dissatisfaction grow, Lee had tried to talk to Em about it several times but Em just changed the subject and Lee didn’t want to push. She only hoped the research made her happier. If things didn’t resolve themselves soon, Lee would push her sister into a confrontation to work it all out as a family.

  * * * * *

  On Tir na nOg, the queen raised her head at the moment Em sketched the symbol on that paper, the echo of Isolde tracing it with a finger wrapping around her consciousness. Alarmed, she quickly stood up and went to her scrying bowl. She poured water into it and waved her hand over the surface, speaking the words of the spell that would allow her to see through the Veil that separated the world of Fae from the human world.

  The face of a raven-haired woman with big green eyes shimmered to the surface. She had almost delicate features but a determined chin. Aine looked at her and saw the sadness resonating from her. She listened to the woman speaking with the elder human and, with a small frown, spoke out a name in summons.

  Moments later a tall warrior with hair the color of caramel walked into the room and bowed low before her. His hair was long and it slid over his shoulders as he did so, the braids at his temples swaying slightly. His muscles rippled as he stood straight again, his golden eyes flared with intelligence and mischief.

  “Conchobar, I need you,” Aine announced as she smoothed her skirts and sat down on her bed.

  At that, a sexy smile slowly slid across his lips. “Is that so, my queen? It has been two thousand years since I last warmed your bed but I would be most happy to do my duty now.”

  She stifled a smile at his irrepressible nature. “I need you to cross the Veil and keep an eye on a human for me.”

  His only answer was a raised brow.

  “She wrote one of the symbols of the first books of the Tuatha De Danann. More specifically, I believe it is from Crossing the Veil.”

  His face went from sexy boredom to acute interest.

  Aine gave a satisfied smirk and raised a brow. “Yes, I thought you might be interested. I don’t know who this woman is or what she knows but apparently she’s got some knowledge and I need to know just how much so I can proceed.”

  “Just watch her? Why don’t I bring her back here to speak to you? If she has the book she could unleash forces beyond her control.” He had a hard time stifling the look of irritation on his face. He was too damned old to be put on babysitting watch over some human.

  “Yes, just watch her and keep me apprised of what she is up to. Do not make contact with her and keep your glamour, I do not want her to know of our existence. She doesn’t know what the symbol means nor does she know where it comes from. I do not want to bring her over unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “As you wish, my queen,” Con said and bowed before he left her.

  * * * * *

  Conchobar MacNessa walked out of the room and stalked down the long hallway to the quarters of the Favored. Many women of the Court tried to catch his eye as he passed but failed. Con had work on his mind and, as much as he admired the female form, he was focused on the task at hand.

  As one of the oldest and most revered of the Queen’s Favored, he was a fierce warrior, a brilliant tactician and a trusted councilor. At ten thousand years old, he had battled through the last major war between the Fae and the Dark Fae. His reputation had taken on mythic proportions but most of it was true.

  When he entered the main chamber, many of the younger Fae there straightened, standing taller, thrusting out their chests as if merely by his presence, he’d ordered them to stand at attention. He gave a casual wave of his hand as he walked through the room toward a red-haired warrior seated at a large table, cleaning a long-handled knife.

  He sat down and a mug of steaming tea appeared quickly near his hand, deposited by one of the more eager apprentices. Con smiled and nodded his head in thanks at the younger Fae and looked back to the other man.

  “So, I’m off to the other side,” he said simply.

  Jayce MacTavish raised a fiery eyebrow and waited for Con to tell him the details.

  “Seems a human female may have something of ours.” He didn’t go into specifics about the book, he was in a room with many other people and he didn’t want to broadcast that there were Books out there among humans.

  Jayce picked up on the seriousness in Con’s voice and continued to polish the knife. “Need any help?”

  “No, it should be simple enough. Probably a total waste of time.” The annoyance in his voice at having to baby-sit a human was clear and Jayce snorted with humor.

  “How long?”

  Con shrugged. “As long as she wills it,” he said, referring to Aine.

  “Better you than me. You will let me know if you need anything, won’t you?” He gave his best friend a glare.

  Con made a noncommittal sound and Jayce sighed.

  “Well, at least there’ll be more women for the rest of us with you gone,” Jayce said, knowing that if it truly got bad Con would come to him but also knowing that his friend was very overprotective of those he cared about and would take a lot onto his own shoulders before he’d ever put anyone else in danger.

  “Only until I come back. It must be hard for you, Jayce my man, to know that while you’re swiving them, they’re calling out my name.” Con chuckled and avoided Jayce’s lazy swipe with his fist. His face turned serious. “You will keep an eye out, yes?”

  Jayce sobered as well. “I will. You know I am as uncomfortable as you are with this new information about the Dark Fae. I don’t trust their motives, Con.”

  “Aye, me neither. But we can’t turn our backs on them, we don’t know how big of at threat they pose or their numbers. But we do know that MacAillen is involved and as the humans say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Come to me should a problem arise.”

  Jayce nodded solemnly and Con stood, touched his forehead, made his farewells and shimmered out of the room.

  Con found himself standing in his home on the shores of the Western Seas. He didn’t need much but he wanted to check on his dog, who would be with his brother Finn while he was on the other side, not knowing how long he’d be there. Except for the dog, Con lived as a solitary man. His bed was never cold for very long, but his heart remained untouched by any woman who wasn’t related to him. He left the romanticism to his brother.

  Con was the kind of warrior whose blade was always razor-sharp but who preferred negotiation to battle. His muscles were hard and tightened by work. He spent his time these days with Jayce, training those new warriors who sought the honor of the Favored.

  Behind the mischievous glint in his eyes, there was a certain loneliness, a pain that was only very rarely visible. Only three people in the world knew that he didn’t let people get close because he felt he’d failed his father several thousand years before. He hid that vulnerability with a devil-may-care attitude and an endless line of women, none of whom could ever hold his heart.

  * * * * *

  Early April saw Em strolling through Spanish Plaza and taking in the Lundi
Gras crowds. In a few minutes it would be six and Rex would be arriving, marking the official start of Mardi Gras. Being a local, it was a favorite time of year. The tourists were there but Lundi Gras was more of an event for the locals. Of course in these few days’ time the area would be swollen with tourists there to celebrate Mardi Gras, the shop would do the biggest business of the year and afterwards they’d all take a few days off.

  She was on the arm of Jon Boudreaux, an old friend of the family and her date for the day. She’d really tried to get excited about him, he was handsome and well mannered, and he already knew that she was a feeler and could pick up thoughts and emotions from others and he was okay with that. She knew he liked her and was sexually attracted to her even though she tried to keep her gift turned way down when she was with other people in social situations. That was one of the problems with being an empath. She picked up on other people’s emotions and motivations all the time—it was like constant background noise.

  No, truth was she just saw him like the cousin he reminded her of. She was troubled by the whole state of her life, though. She was a twenty-five-year-old woman in one of the most fun cities in the world and she was still a virgin. She got asked on dates pretty often but she rarely accepted. When you could pick up a guy’s intention to fuck you and move on, or his acute discomfort with your being a witch or the fact that he wondered why you weren’t as hot as your sister, well, it just tended to make one very picky.

  But the heart of the matter was that Em was very unhappy with the current state of her life. She felt like she was living in the shadow of the other strong women in her life, she felt weighed down by her virginity, by being the bookishly quiet one in a family of boisterous extroverts. Worse, by her family’s inability to see her as anything other than “shy, bookish Em” when she wasn’t that person at all, not really. She was tempted to just sleep with Jon to be rid of her bothersome hymen and break free of the stereotype her family’s perception, but couldn’t really bring herself to endorse the idea.