In the Shadow of the Selkie

by M. A. duBarry

  Dubheasa gave him a cautious stare. “You’ve blocked me from your mind.”

  He ignored her comment. “My people are of no use to you, Dubheasa. They’re not mortal. Fin-Folk need mortals to preserve their youth, not selkies.”

  “Do you really think I didn’t know that?”

  He studied her face. The wrinkles he remembered didn’t seem so severe just now. “What did you do, Dubheasa? Who did you turn for the sake of regaining your youthful appearance?”

  “You speak so ill of me, Roane,” she said. “To think of me as having taken a life-force for my own good, a precious little life-force, hurts me beyond anything you can imagine. I’m using the powers of your sealskin to rejuvenate myself. It was that or control you. And I don’t like it when you play the puppet. I’d rather take your energy.”

  Now he knew why he’d felt so weak.

  A moan escaped from Theo’s lips.

  Fear shot through Roane like a bolt of lightning, jolting his senses in a million directions. Theo was alive.

  “Don’t blame me for lying, Roane. Theodosia makes for an irresistible meal. I couldn’t help myself. Of course I haven’t fully turned her yet. I thought that act we could do together.” She smiled an evil grin. “I surmise her blood will sustain us for years to come.” She ran a finger over Roane’s jaw. “If you’d cross over to my side, we could rule two kingdoms as one.”

  “Never.” The mere thought of joining forces with Dubheasa disgusted him. He needed to save Theo. The thought of losing her again destroyed him.

  Dubheasa turned away from him.

  He raised the crossbow and reloaded the weapon. Pain shot through his body as he moved. With his sealskin still in Dubheasa’s control, his strength continued to dwindle. Time was running out.

  “You can’t kill the one who made you, Roane. A signature bolt will only turn face and strike at its creature’s own heart.”

  He aimed for the part of her back right behind her heart. His fingers held tight around the weapon.

  Dubheasa didn’t move.

  He spanned the crossbow, drawing back the bolt, and aimed at the dark queen’s heart.

  “Would you really shoot me in the back, Roane?”

  The woman’s words hit him like a sack to the gut.

  The sound of bats echoed in his ears.

  Dubheasa turned around and opened her mouth wide. A hoard of flying creatures flew from her lips.

  Roane fired the crossbow and prayed.

  The bolt shot Dubheasa in the heart. The dark Fin-Folk queen fell to her knees and shriveled. Her once supple skin turned to hard, black fish scales. As her transformation completed, her body crumbled to the ground in a pile of ash.

  The bats released from Dubheasa’s mouth dropped from the air and vanished.

  Roane ran to Theo’s side. He lifted her in to his arms and cradled her still limp body. “Speak to me Theo. Tell me you live.”

  She moaned.

  He breathed a sigh of relief.

  Connor came crashing into the crypt, Miles at his heels. “We heard bats,” he said.

  Roane rose from the ground, carrying Theo in his arms. He looked past Connor to where Miles stood. “You’re both bloody late.”

  Chapter Eleven

  A knock on the door disrupted her solitude. Theo adjusted the blanket and sat up in bed, her neck still sore from where Dubheasa had bitten her. “Come in,” she said.

  The door opened, revealing a tall, blond-haired man standing on the other side. “Queen Theodosia?”

  The man looked much like Roane, save for his lighter coloring. “Prince Miles?”

  “Would you mind some company?”

  “Of course not. Please, come in.”

  He closed the door and then approached her bed.

  “Take the chair from the corner and bring it here.”

  Miles followed her instructions and then took a seat at the side of her bed. “I want you to know my brother has no idea I’m here. He thinks me in the barracks practicing with swords.”

  The notion the young man had come in secrecy piqued her inquisitive nature. “Do you often go behind your brother’s back?”

  A look of slight fear crossed Miles face. “No…well…sometimes… Only when I think he’s wrong about things. I fear my brother never thinks of his own needs, only those of his kingdom. And while he believes he’s the one watching over me, I sometimes am the soul who watches out for him.”

  “Then you are a good brother, Miles. Roane is fortunate to have you as a sibling.”

  “I’m just as fortunate, Your Majesty.”

  She liked the young pup’s loyalty to his brother. If she had siblings of her own, she imagined they would have shared a similar bond. “What brings you here, Miles? Surely a sister-in-law is not that much of an attraction.”

  He lowered his head, but she saw his innocent smile anyway. “I come for my brother’s sake.”

  “I fear Roane and I simply are not suited for each other, Miles,” she said.

  “You’re wrong,” the prince said, then quickly added, “If I may be so bold to say so.”

  She held back the urge to giggle. Miles had nothing to fear from her, especially since propriety wasn’t something she followed steadfastly. “And why do you believe me to be wrong?”

  He lifted his head and stared her in the eye. “My brother risked his life for you by going after Dubheasa. In all my years I’ve never seen him so keen on one cause. He’s given up a lot for you, my queen.”

  She didn’t understand what Miles referred to.

  A second knock at the door interrupted their conversation.

  Before she could respond, Roane stepped inside the bedroom. “In the name of the gods, Miles, what the devil are you doing here?”

  “It’s all right, Roane,” she intervened. “I enjoy your brother’s company. He only came to wish me well in my recovery.”

  Miles frowned. “I’d have thought you asleep by now.”

  “It’s not quite dawn.” Roane raised an eyebrow. “Besides, what does that matter? I think you need to return to your lessons, lest you’ll be the one needing recovery, brother.” He grabbed Miles by the shoulder and nudged him off the chair.

  The young man stared down at her. “Consider my words, Your Majesty. I beg you.”

  “Enough,” Roane said. “Now go.”

  Miles scooted out the door, pulling it shut behind him.

  Theo looked away.

  “I’ve sent a coach to the mainland,” Roane said. “Your parents should arrive by dusk.”

  “My father won’t be pleased at finding out he sent me to a vampire, and a selkie one at that.”

  “I’ve made amends, Theo. Your wound will heal without consequence. Dubheasa’s death frees you from any vampyric hold she might have had on you. You’re free to go whenever you so wish.”

  She didn’t want to break her marriage vows. “But I am your wife and my place is here, at Cu Mara.”

  “I will agree to dissolving our marriage pact. I no longer have anything to offer you, since I’m no longer the man you married.”

  She turned and faced him head-on. “What do you mean?”

  He paced back and forth at the side of the bed. “I’ve killed Dubheasa, my maker. Without replenishing my life-force, my death is imminent.”

  “He’s given up everything for you…” Miles’s words rang out like thunder in her head. Now she understood what the young prince had been talking about. “You saved my life, Roane. Dubheasa would surely have killed me.”

  He stopped mid-stride and tilted his head in her direction. “And I’d do it all over again, Theo. Before you came into my life, all I had was Miles and my kingdom. You changed my heart. Without you my life no longer mattered, and so I went after Dubheasa.”

  “But I was the one who staked you in the crypt that night.”

  He sat down next to her on the bed and took her hand. “I know. I’ve known all along.”

  Shock covered her soul. “And you d
idn’t take my life-force?”

  “I never believed you guilty of the crime. In my heart I knew there had to be an explanation.”

  “You gave me the benefit of the doubt.” She thought back to the moment she accused him of being a seal killer. “I didn’t offer you the same.”

  “I love you, Theodosia. I only wished we had met under different circumstances, when I had life in front of me.”

  Pain ripped through her heart. “Take me, Roane. Take my life-force now and make me one with you.”

  “I exist in two worlds, Theo. The only way to take your life-force and still allow you to travel between this realm and the underground selkie world, I’d have to turn you. If I take your life-force and keep you mortal, you’d have to remain solely in the selkie realm. And I would never dream of making you vampire or taking you away from your parents.”

  “But I desire to be vampire. Don’t you see? My father must have known what you were when he sought your name for my sake. I lived for preserving selkie relics. I spent more nights in crypts than you can ever imagine. With you, I have all that my heart desires.”

  “Life would be very different once I turn you. Food will only be able to be eaten in small amounts, on rare occasions. I live on a special blend of seal blood mixed with wine. The animals that sustain me never die—they were a gift from the gods and are highly respected in my realm. They hold precedence even over me should my kingdom ever be attacked.”

  “I will adjust to my new life, Roane. All that matters is that I have you.”

  “Then so be it. After we’ve discussed the matter with your parents so your father may have access to my libraries and tangible proof of my existence, I will turn you.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. “You’ve given me back more than just my physical life, Theo. You’ve also given me back my heart and for that, I will be eternally grateful.”

  And he’d given her everything in return. No longer did living in the shadow of the selkie seem so daunting. She was now truly one with her greatest dream and Roane Cu Mara had made it all possible.

  About the Author

  M.A. duBarry’s sensual romance titles have garnered numerous awards and accolades including the P.E.A.R.L. Award for Best Erotica, Romance Reviews Recommended Read Award, Love Romances Reviewer Choice Award, and a nomination in the Bloody Dagger Awards. Ms. duBarry also writers award-winning dark and urban fantasy under the pen name Angelique Armae.

  Aside from writing, M.A. dabbles in digital art. She is the recipient and two time nominee of the Dream Realm Award for best cover art. Her photorealism image—Donovan2—hangs in E-frontier America’s 3d gallery (E-frontier is the maker of Poser software).

  When not working, Ms. duBarry enjoys traveling, learning about the ancient Celts, exploring history, and learning new languages. M.A. studied history and French literature at Skidmore College.

  Interesting episodes in M.A.‘s life have included spending a summer working on an archaeology dig at Fort Edward, New York, digging up fragments from the French and Indian War; visiting the Alcazar in Segovia, Spain where she was given a private tour that allowed her to play with armor and sit in Queen Isabella’s throne; and a singing gig that put her on stage at Carnegie Hall belting out tunes in Irish Gaelic.

  To learn more about M.A. duBarry, please visit http://www.madubarry.com. Send an email to M.A. at madubarry.com or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as M.A. duBarry! http://groups.yahoo.com/group/madubarry/

  Look for these titles

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  Tales from Lachmuirghan

  Welcome to Lachmuirghan, where fantasies come true.

  Tales from Lachmuirghan

  © 2007 Madeleine Oh and Friends

  You may have trouble finding Lachmuirghan on a map. That’s because it exists only in our imaginations. Hidden in this secret valley, Lachmuirghan can be whatever you want it to be.

  Imagine a sheltered valley and loch somewhere in the west of Scotland. At the head of the valley is an ancient circle of standing stones; at the lower end stands a ruined castle overlooking the bustling village center.

  As you explore, suddenly you notice things are not quite as they should be. The village is the same, yet somehow changed. You notice that you have also changed—your senses are more alive than you’ve ever known. You stand at a strange yet familiar crossroad. Out of the mist, a voice calls your name.

  Where will you go? And to whom? In this fantasy world, the choice is completely yours.

  Featured authors:

  M.A. duBarry

  Pandora Grace

  Isabo Kelly

  Maristella Kent

  Xandra King

  Madeleine Oh

  Clarissa Wilmot

  Cross a lawyer with a tale-spinning thief and throw in three meddling fairy godmothers. Result? Magical mayhem, hidden evils and dangerous desire!

  Princess of Thieves

  © 2008 Gia Dawn

  Demons of Dunmore, Book 3

  Snapdragon, Pansy, and Rose have their hands full as Allard Dunmore meets the woman of his dreams—or rather nightmares—in the impish thief, Jo. When her father goes missing, she enlists Allard’s aid to find him. And she won’t take no for an answer.

  Sparks fly and love sizzles when Jo kidnaps Allard and attempts to force him to help her. Despite his best intentions, Allard is drawn into the web of dark secrets and heretical writings that revolve around the renegade Jo and her mysterious missing father.

  As ancient evils chase them, and even allies become enemies, the couple must learn to rely on each other to find the hidden truth. When Jo herself goes missing, Allard’s worst fears are realized. How can he face losing the lawless beauty he has come to love? Is he finally willing to put his doubts aside and believe in her at last?

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Princess of Thieves:

  Allard watched Jo stab at the meal, knowing she choked down each and every bite. He was torn between the urge to wrap her slender body in his arms and whisper words of comfort, and the overpowering need to shake some sense into her stubborn little head.

  “I would have thought a master thief like yourself would have no trouble stealing enough to eat.”

  Her chin jutted up. “I manage well enough. But there are others who need.”

  Allard felt her indignation. So that was why she was so damned thin. She gave most all of her spoils away. “Is that how you justify your choice of careers? It makes it right if you serve the needy?” He was interested in her answer.

  “I don’t justify anything.” She continued to pick at her plate.

  “What about those you steal from? Do they not need? Deserve the rewards of their labor? You deprive them.” His lawyer’s mind was getting the best of him, trying to pick her words apart to discover the hidden truth of her.

  “I trade when I can.”

  That got his attention. “And what do you trade, princess?” He didn’t know if he really wanted to hear the answer. If she traded herself—

  “You think I’m a whore.” There was a condemning twist to her mouth.

  “I admit the thought did cross my mind. Are you?” he demanded when she settled to silence again. He didn’t know why he cared. He’d known many women who sold themselves for a living. He’d paid them handsomely and enjoyed their services on many a lonely night.

  She gave a bitter laugh. “Do you want to trade, Dunmore? My body for your work?”

  Those amazing lavender eyes held a challenge Allard could not resist. He bared his teeth, no pretense of humor in the gesture. The surge of need rose between them again, and he let it sink into his awareness, a tide of want that settled hard between his legs.

  He could sense her nervous attraction. Her hand rose again to her throat. If she did sell herself, she hadn’t done it often. In fact, he thought, as he watched the blood surge up her beautiful neck and into her cheeks, he was willing to bet she had never sold herself at all.

  “Would you agree
?” The question slipped from his lips to hang heavy in the air. He slid his finger down the valley of her breasts to rest at the edge of her bodice. A small movement to either side would have his hand cupped across one tip. The anticipation of palming one tightly pearled nipple kept Allard poised on the edge of the chair. “Say the word and the deal is done,” he whispered in her ear, giving into the urge to nuzzle her creamy skin. It was soft from the bath and lightly scented of sandalwood.

  Her eyes grew huge, the pupils swelling to almost eclipse the lavender rim. She ran her tongue across her lips and Allard froze in expectation. “You would not be cruel.” The phrase came out more like a plea.

  Allard’s smile softened. “I am not a cruel man.” When she gave a slight nod of agreement, he still hesitated. “Was that a yes?”

  She nodded again, lowering her eyes. “Yes.” He could feel her tremble when he lifted her chin once more.

  “And now you will tell me the truth.” He ran his thumb over her lower lip. “Have you traded yourself in the past?”

  She swallowed when he moved his hand to cup her nape, allowing the other to inch slowly over one breast. The nipple was big and swollen beneath his palm. “N-no,” she stammered as he pulled her head back, baring her neck even more.

  He had not even noticed her hair was the color of spun honey, but now that it had almost dried, it spilled in a golden fall across his arm. Mmmm, he thought, her other curls would be golden, also. And if he knew his women, her breasts would end in proud pink tips. He liked pink and gold. He ached for pink and gold.

  “That is a very good thing.” He tried to pull down her bodice and cursed when the shawl hid her skin. It quickly landed in a pile on the floor.

  A whimper floated from her lips as he bared the nipple to the light. It was pink.

  Beautiful, dusky, rosy pink. He rolled it between his fingers and watched as she bit her lip against the pleasure. He plucked it once again before dipping his head to nibble at the pebbled flesh. She shook at his touch and he felt the moan that rumbled in her chest, but she did not let one sound escape her.