Fae Mistaken (Fae 0f Ballantine Book 4)
Page 4
Darby looked over at Fiona. “We’ve been through a lot together, including a few good fights, but she just won’t leave me alone,” she said.
Fiona laughed. “Guess I’m a glutton for punishment,” she said.
Darby pretended to be offended, but then burst into laughter, and Miranda found herself joining in. It felt good to laugh, and it wasn’t long before she’d forgotten about all her troubles and started to enjoy herself, trying on one ridiculous outfit after another. She wouldn’t have been caught dead in some of the skimpy stuff Fiona insisted that she try but it was fun to feel glamourous for a little while.
It was getting late when Darby realized what time it was, and they forced themselves to leave the racks of fun clothes alone and focus on what she’d need for the cabin. The reminder of the real world brought them all back to reality, and they finished the task quickly, amassing a pile of clothes much larger than Miranda thought she needed.
“Darby, I can’t take all this with me; it’s too much,” she finally said when they stood looking at what they’d chosen.
“Nonsense; it isn’t that much,” Fiona said. “After all, a girl should be prepared.”
“We’re just going to a cabin. I can’t imagine when I would need a dress,” she said, pulling it out of the pile.
Fiona snorted. “I think you’re going to be surprised to see what they consider a cabin,” she said. “Take the dress.”
Chapter Six
Jamison
Jamison stood staring out the window of the castle kitchen, thinking that his eardrums were going to explode as the gaggle of young girls laughed and giggled behind him. It had been his mother’s idea to hide Sarah and Miranda in a group of Fae teenagers for the trip to Rushbrooke, and now he wished he hadn’t agreed. But when the two finally appeared in the kitchen doorway dressed like servants, he knew that it was going to work and tramped down his frustration.
Sarah’s blonde hair had been washed with a rinse until it was a dull brown that matched every other head in the kitchen, and Miranda’s long curls were stuffed up into her cap, leaving only enough showing to help her blend in. Both looked very nervous and a little more than uncomfortable, and for a moment, he felt a small rush of pleasure that they were as unhappy as he was.
But it drained away when Miranda saw him glaring at her, and she unconsciously stepped back a few steps as if afraid of him. Darby came bustling into the room, then burst into laughter. “Your mother is the smartest woman I know,” she said. “No one is going to notice them in this crowd.”
“I just hope my mother is prepared to cope with them all when we get there,” Rainie said, looking around the kitchen.
“If I know your mother, that won’t be a problem,” Keaton said, stepping up behind Rainie and wrapping his arms around her. “I was thinking that we could send a few of them over to the farm; it could use a good cleaning.”
“Hmm, we’ll see,” Rainie said. “I wouldn’t want to mess with my mother’s plans.”
Colin and Reese were the last to step into the kitchen, which was becoming so crowded, the cook threw her hands up in the air and retreated to her office. “You all need to get out of my kitchen, and soon. I’ve got dinner to make,” she called over her shoulder.
Jamison saw Reese’s eyes meet Sarah’s from across the room, and she moved slowly into the crowd, pulling Miranda behind her. A few of the girls looked at them curiously, but Rainie stepped forward and announced. “We’re ready to leave, girls; quiet down and listen to your instructions.”
Silence fell over the room, and all eyes turned to Rainie. “I’m going to read off a list of names; if your name is on that list, go out and get into the wagon parked outside,” she said, then began to read names from a list in her hand.
Sarah and Miranda were the last two on the list, and they quickly slipped out the door. He wanted to follow to bark instructions at them, but knew that he couldn’t risk being seen; instead, he slipped into the pantry and opened the hidden door in the floor. Only a few seconds later, Reese slid through the door and closed it, but not before he heard Rainie instructing the rest of the girls to report to the head housekeeper.
Feeling reassured, he climbed down the ladder into the secret passageway that led to the barn and turned on the flashlight in his pocket. Reese was right behind him, and only a few minutes later, they emerged inside the barn and slipped into the back of an empty wagon and covered themselves with a tarp. It wasn’t long before they heard the sound of horses approaching and the mumbled curses of one of the stable boys.
“Stupid Royals,” he said. “Think they can put that many people in a wagon.”
Jamison couldn’t help but grin at Reese, who returned his smile, and they settled in for a long ride. When the wagon finally rolled out of the barn, it didn’t go far before stopping, and they heard Rainie ordering some of the girls to move to the other wagon. There was a burst of conversation and giggling, the wagon bounced around a few times, then was still again as the girls settled in.
Daring only to risk a peek, he lifted the tarp a few inches and peered out, relieved to see Sarah and Miranda sitting only a few feet from them. Reese sent him a questioning glance, and he nodded, then settled back in the straw again and closed his eyes. It was at least a two-hour ride to Rushbrooke and he planned to use that time to catch up on some much-needed rest. His men were guarding the party, and with Keaton and Rainie in charge, he could relax knowing that they’d warn him of any danger.
But the back of a wagon under a stifling tarp proved to be the worst place to try to catch up on his sleep, so he gave up after only a few minutes. Shifting the tarp very slowly, he made an opening and stuck his head out and took several deep breaths of fresh air. Most of the girls in the back of the wagon were asleep, and the others were staring off into the distance, so he rearranged himself so that he could keep the fresh air flowing.
But he soon discovered that Miranda was right in his line of sight, and his only choice was to watch her or close his eyes. Knowing he didn’t dare move again, he closed his eyes and hoped that he might be able to sleep, only to open them again when he heard Sarah say Miranda’s name.
***Miranda***
Miranda heard Sarah say her name but didn’t look over at her until she said it a second time. “I’m sorry about what I did to your mother,” she said. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
Miranda studied her for a second. “She wanted me to kill you. I don’t blame you,” she finally said.
“Why didn’t you kill me?” Sarah asked. “I thought you were going to, but then you dropped the knife and walked away.”
Miranda thought back to that night, to the way it felt to know that she was about to take a life. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill you no matter how much my mother wanted me to.”
Sarah’s face was filled with guilt and sadness. “And then I killed her. You must hate me.”
She shook her head. “I don’t hate you; in some ways, you’ve helped me more than I was ever able to help myself,” she said, thinking about the binding spell. “You helped me break the spell she put on me when I was eight.”
“What did she do to you?” Sarah asked, shock on her face, then quickly added, “I’m sorry, Miranda, I’m being insensitive. I shouldn’t have asked.”
Miranda didn’t answer right away; she was trying to think of all the things her mother had done to her and realized that she needed to talk about it, needed to unburden herself just a little. “It’s okay,” she said. “My mother put a binding spell on me when I was eight because I hated her black magic and refused to help her with it, so she bound me to her and used my magic herself.”
“Darby said she thought something like that had happened, but she wasn’t sure,” Sarah said, her face full of compassion. “But, you’re free now.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “For now,” she said.
“What do you mean by for now?” Sarah asked, alarmed. “What aren’t you telling me?”
She wan
ted to answer, wanted to blurt the horrible truth, but couldn’t make her mouth form the words. Instead, she whispered, “I belong to a Fae, a high ranking Unseelie who bought into one of my mother’s crazy schemes.”
“What do you mean you belong to a Fae?” Sarah asked, horrified.
Miranda wished she hadn’t said anything. “We’re engaged; that’s all I meant,” she said, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment.
Sarah studied her for a long time, then asked, “What was your mother’s crazy scheme?”
She looked over at Sarah, the truth begging to be spoken. “She was sure that the key to the Unseelie conquering the Seelie was to strengthen them with witch blood, and when you came along, that was her plan for you as well.”
“I remember she told me, but I thought she was just raving,” Sarah said, shivering. “I never thought she actually...I mean...”
“I was supposed to be the first, an experiment to see what would happen,” Miranda said, goosebumps forming on her arms. “Abram decided I was too young and sent me away to grow up, but he’s going to want me back, and if he finds you with me, he’ll take you too.”
Sarah was stunned into silence, and Miranda felt the exhaustion of confession seeping into her but was afraid to close her eyes, afraid the memories of that night would come pouring back. She’d worked hard to banish them from her mind, tried to forget the horror of being so completely helpless, and until now, it had worked. But talking about it had reawakened them, and she knew that she’d do anything to be free of the man who would haunt her dreams for the rest of her life.
She managed to fall into a fitful sleep as the wagon bumped along the road, her warning to Sarah echoing in both their ears, unaware that behind her, Jamison was seething with anger. His hands clenched into fists, he tried to control the need to hurt someone that had been building as Miranda talked and cursing the day she appeared in his life and turned it upside down.
When the wagon came to an abrupt halt, it jarred her awake, and she let out a little scream. “It’s okay; we just stopped,” Sarah said, a little groggy herself.
She sat up and looked out of the wagon, worry beginning to fill her when she saw no reason for them to stop. “Where are we?” she asked, then realized that Sarah didn’t know any more than she did.
“I’m not sure,” Sarah said, her face full of worry as well. “Maybe something is wrong with one of the horses.”
But deep in the pit of her stomach, a feeling had begun to grow, a feeling she knew all too well, and she began to shake. Pinpricks of pain began to pierce her brain, and she put her head in her hands. “It’s the Unseelie,” she whispered, her head beginning to pound.
Sarah grabbed her arm. “Miranda, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice full of panic.
Miranda took a deep breath and pushed the pain away, but she was still shaking. “It’s the Unseelie,” she said. “I haven’t felt this in a long time, since I was a little girl. I guess it was muted by my mother’s spell. But I remember this same feeling. I used to scream and cry when my mother tried to take me around them.”
“Are you sure?” Sarah asked, her voice full of fear. “What are we going to do?”
The pain was getting worse, and she knew that they didn’t have much time. “We have to run; they’re getting closer,” she said, gritting her teeth against the pain. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold take this. It’s never been this bad before.”
Chapter Seven
Jamison
Jamison wasn’t buying Miranda’s act for a second, and he suddenly understood what she was up to, the reason she was there. It wasn’t Ballantine she was after: it was Sarah. She’d been sent here to get the Pixie, and it would have worked if he and Reese hadn’t hidden in the wagon with them. She and her mother must have worked it all out before, a backup plan in case something went wrong, and his brother had bought into it.
He tensed his muscles, readying himself to spring when Miranda made her move, marveling at what a good job she’d done. After her little speech earlier, he’d almost believed that she was telling the truth, that she was just as much a victim of the Unseelie as Darby had said. But all that feeling had disappeared as soon as she started her performance, and even if Sarah was buying it, he wasn’t.
Reese was frantically trying to get his attention, his face full of concern, clearly buying Miranda’s act, but he ignored him, anticipation coursing through his body. He was finally going to prove to everyone that his brother was a fool, and it surprised him to feel a bit of regret mixed with the satisfaction.
Miranda showed no sign of moving, was instead holding her head and rocking back and forth. “You have to go without me,” she said. “I can’t make it stop.”
“I can’t go without Reese,” Sarah said. “He would never forgive me.”
“You have to,” Miranda said. “You have no idea what it will be like if they catch you, the horrible things they’ll do to you.”
Jamison could hear the anguish in her voice, true pain that couldn’t be faked; his protective instinct kicked in, and his arms ached to hold her. Still crouched under the tarp with Reese, he fought his feelings and the need to protect Miranda, telling himself over and over that she was a witch. Only a second later, the decision was taken out of his hands when he heard the unmistakable cry of the Unseelie as they attacked.
Reese threw back the tarp at the same time he did and took only a second to assess the situation before barking, “We have to get them away from here.”
Jamison didn’t hesitate to put the back-up plan he and Reese had devised into play. Jumping down from the wagon, ignoring the girls’ cry of alarm, he ran for the horses tied to the back of the wagon. It took him only a few seconds to untie them and mount one, and even less time to make it back to Reese, but the Unseelie had swarmed his men, and it looked like they might win.
Reese lifted Sarah out of the back of the wagon and onto the horse’s back, then turned to pick up Miranda, who was still writhing in pain. When he handed her to Jamison, she looked at him with pain, then closed her eyes and went limp in his arms. He jostled her around in his arms until she was secure, then kicked his horse into a gallop, watching from the corner of his eye as Reese and Sarah raced off in the other direction.
It took him a few minutes to get his bearings, but before long, he began to recognize the terrain and found a trail that would take him deeper into the mountains. He rode as hard as he could with Miranda in his arms, looking behind him frequently to make sure he wasn’t being followed, hoping to put as much distance between them and the Unseelie as he could.
He knew that he’d have to stop soon; although she’d stopped whimpering a few miles back, Miranda was still limp in his arms, and he was beginning to get concerned. That concern annoyed him, and he wondered why he’d even bothered to save her, but as he rode, he realized that he could never have left her behind, could never have taken the chance that he was wrong and handed her over to the Unseelie.
Looking down at her, he wondered if he was beginning to fall for the little witch, and how he would ever live with himself if that were true. But he couldn’t deny that she’d awakened feelings inside him that no Fae ever had, and that he was getting tired of fighting those feelings.
Hearing his own words to his brother in his head, he tried to talk himself out of it, but with Miranda in his arms, they rang false, and for the first time, he had to question his own beliefs. Too tired for that much introspection, his arms beginning to tremble with Miranda’s weight, even as tiny as she was, he started looking for a place to stop and focused on their situation.
When he finally spotted a small stream, he turned off the trail and followed it into the woods until they came to a small clearing protected by large trees. Knowing they couldn’t be spotted from the trail, he dismounted, Miranda still in his arms, and laid her down under one of the trees. She stirred for the first time in over an hour but didn’t open her eyes, so he bunched up his jacket and put it under her head.
When he found nothing, he sat back and looked down at her, his body throbbing with desire, his mind disgusted with his lust. Pushing himself to his feet, he began to pace, searching his mind for a solution; when the stream came into view for the third time, it came to him. After trying to wake her once more and getting no response, he picked her up and carried her over to the stream.
***Miranda***
Miranda was dreaming about fire; she knew it was a dream, but every time she tried to wake herself, it would consume her again in its throbbing heat. She felt herself being lifted, heard the gurgling of a stream, then the welcoming rush over cool water over her legs and chest. It was shockingly cold, and she sucked in a gasping breath, fighting to rid herself of the flames still dancing in her head.
When the last one had faded, she was panting and shivering at the same time, the icy water beginning to chill her. Trying to remember what happened, she opened her eyes to find Jamison looking down at her, his face full of concern. It all came rushing back to her then, and she struggled to sit up, pulling away from Jamison, who was staring at her now.
“Where’s Sarah?” she asked, looking around the clearing frantically. “What happened to Sarah?”
“She’s with Reese,” he said, a suspicious look replacing the concern.
“Did they get away?” she asked, getting unsteadily to her feet. “Do you know where they went? Is she safe?”