by Lora Leigh
red if her mother had had an affair with one of the Unseelie court males, but the Rose and Black Towers had almost no interaction at all. In addition, her mother’s blood hardly ran hot, and she was not at all inclined to passion or impulsiveness. No, it was more likely that her father was really her father, but that somewhere down her genetic line someone had strayed to Unseelie and by some trick of fate the blood had shown up so gloriously bright in her.
Unwilling to worry them, Bella had never confronted her parents about her dark art. If she was discovered with Unseelie blood, the Summer Queen would banish her entire family from the Rose Tower and, as their money was dependent on the court, they’d be left destitute. She’d simply learned to lock down her thoughts with an iron will, not allowing herself to do any damage to anyone, making sure she didn’t inadvertently back any negative thoughts with magick.
Luckily her ability to manipulate physical flame had also developed and she could present that soft, benign magickal face to the world. She could blow out candles from across the room and make the fire in her hearth grow brighter or dimmer—that’s all that power was strong enough for. But strength of magick wasn’t a prized asset in the Rose Tower. Here it was all about your bloodline . . . and your fashion sense.
It was better for people to think her a weak Tuatha Dé Danann with pure blood than the powerful Unseelie she suspected she was.
Bella had confided her secret in Aislinn because Aislinn also possessed Unseelie blood. It had forged a bond between them and they became closer than sisters. Perhaps some subconscious link had drawn them to be friends in childhood; Bella didn’t know. She was just grateful they had each other to lean on.
Maybe Ronan suspected the blight on her bloodline. Maybe that was why he’d rejected her . . . twice.
“Stubborn man,” she muttered and slammed her bedroom door shut.
ying awake in her bed, Bella heard a slight sound a moment before a huge hand closed over her mouth. Terror jolted through her veins and she kicked and struggled until Ronan’s face came into view.
“Don’t scream.”
She shook her head and he released her. Bella scrambled back away from him a little. “You scared a year off my life, Ronan! How did you get out? Why are you here?”
“I’m here because you’re here, Bell.”
Bell. Once she’d loved it when he’d called her that.
“Bella.”
“I came because I had to talk to you.”
“Talk to me? You broke out of prison just to talk to me?” She blinked. Was she still dreaming? Nope, wide awake. “You’re slated for death in the morning.”
He grinned. “Did you really think I was going to stick around for that?”
“I never thought you had a choice.”
He was not wearing a shirt. The realization slammed into her fast and hard. Not only was Ronan in her bedroom in the middle of the night, he was shirtless. A bare-chested Ronan was her worst weakness. She refused to let her gaze slide down past his broad shoulders to that muscular, golden silk-over-steel expanse. If she looked at his chest, she’d want to glide her hands over it, and she couldn’t afford such brainless impulses right now.
“Seems I did.”
“You turned down my offer of marriage. Did you prefer death to being with me?”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“Am I?” She made a frustrated sound and looked away from him. “Look, I don’t want to bicker with you right now. I was sleeping. What gives you the right to break in here and harass me?” She waved her hand. “Just go off and try to escape. Good luck with that, by the way. I predict you’ll be back in charmed iron by morning.”
“You weren’t sleeping.”
“How do you know?” She hadn’t been, of course. How could she sleep knowing the morning would bring his head rolling across the throne room floor?
“I remember the way you breathe when you sleep, Bella.”
Her chest tightened and all rational thought left her for a moment. They’d never had sex, but they had slept together once. Just once. He’d held her from twilight until dawn. It was one of the times in her life when she’d felt perfectly content, so she recalled it vividly. “That was decades ago and it was only one time. There’s no way you could remember that.”
A slight smile twisted his full mouth and his light blue eyes glittered in the half light. “Yes, it was decades ago, but I memorized how you breathe that night. I replay it in my dreams.”
She went motionless, caught breathless with her gaze locked on his. She had no idea what to say to that, and definitely didn’t know how to feel. The moonlight streamed in through the window, bleaching the color from his face and painting it in shades of silver. His eyes were serious, focused—intent on her in a way that made her shiver. As if he’d decided she was his. After the rejection. After all these years.
Suddenly she knew how to feel—angry.
“I have to go soon. Before I leave, I have things I need to say to you.”
“You have nothing to say that I want to hear.” Her breath hissed from between her clenched teeth. “Where are you going?”
“I can’t tell you.”
She threw her hands up. “How did you get out of the prison?”
He flashed a cocky smile. “Did you really think they could keep me?”
“Yes, actually. They had you mired in charmed iron up to your neck.” She studied him. “If you could escape, why didn’t you do it earlier?”
“I didn’t have a reason until you came to see me, Bella. You still care about me. There’s still a seed of emotion in you for me. I thought I’d crushed it a long time ago, but it’s still there.” He held out a hand to her.
What? Her mind whirled with all the implications of his words.
She looked toward the door, needing a way out. There might be a bit of truth to what he said, but it wasn’t something she wanted to face right now. He’d hurt her so badly. The last thing she needed was to show him her soft underbelly again and allow him to snap out another bloody chunk.
“You presume too much,” she said in her best icy voice.
He dropped his hand.
A hard pounding on her front door made her jump. The Summer Queen’s Imperial Guard, most likely. She leapt from the bed and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward her walk-in closet.
He resisted a little. “Where are you leading me?”
“I have a secret room behind my shoe rack.”
“Why do you have a secret room?”
She glanced at him. “Do you think I would serve in a place as treacherous as the Summer Queen’s court without a safe place to go?”
She flipped on the light and pulled a knob on the wall containing her dozens of pairs of designer shoes. A panel slid open and she pushed him through.
He hesitated, looking back at her. “How do I know you won’t turn me over to them?”
“You don’t.” She gave him a final shove and closed the panel back in place.
THREE
Flipping the closet light back off and going into her bedroom, she grabbed her bathrobe off the end of the bed. By now Lolly, her house hobgoblin, should’ve answered the door.
“Can I help you?’ Bella asked, squinting against the light in the foyer and tying her silk wrap more firmly around her. Lolly, a knobby, wrinkled hobgoblin of about five feet tall, stood near the two guards. A more loyal housekeeper was never to be found, and right now Lolly looked upset that the keepers of fae law were shadowing their doorstep. The guards were both dressed in head-to-toe rose and gold metal and wearing heavy black boots and helms. Shining swords hung at their sides. The fae had never really gotten on board with firearms.
The Imperial Guard was primarily made up of lower-blood sons and daughters of the Tuatha Dé. All were fiercely loyal to their queen. They had unmatched speed and strength and were well suited for their position.
“We’re very sorry to disturb you, my lady. We are looking for an escaped prisoner,” said the on
e on the left.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Ronan Achaius Quinn, no doubt.”
“Yes, Miss Mac Lyr.”
Bella smiled at Lolly, who stood as if ready to defend her mistress’s home with her life. “Thank you for answering the door. You can go back to bed, dear.”
Lolly nodded once, glared at the guard, and melted back down the darkened hallway.
Bella turned her attention back to the men. “As you are already aware, since all of Piefferburg and the free world is also aware, I asked Ronan Quinn to marry me to save him from the Wild Hunt and he refused. He chose death over marriage to me. Why do you think he would come here?”
“By order of the Summer Queen, we’re checking everywhere.”
She stepped to the side and used a supercilious tone of voice. “All right, then, search my apartment if you feel the need, but it’s a waste of your time and mine. I’d prefer to be sleeping.”
“Apologies, my lady.”
She waved her hand dismissively and they moved past her. Sinking down on the edge of her couch, she watched as they searched her place. The soft recessed lighting of the room glowed on their rose and gold armor as they respectfully moved pieces of furniture and checked possible hiding places. She held her breath as they investigated her walk-in closet, but they found nothing.
“Thank you for your attention to this matter. You serve Her Majesty well,” Bella said, escorting them to the door. “I hope you find the bastard. Since he refused me, I’d just as soon see his head roll.”
“Causing his head to roll is our objective, my lady. Have a restful night,” one of them replied as they left.
Once the door closed, Bella leaned her hand against the wall and slumped a little, releasing the breath she’d been holding.
The sound of shuffling slippers met her ears. “Is everything all right, my lady?”
Bella straightened and smiled at her housekeeper. “It’s fine, Lolly. I just don’t like having the Imperial Guard looking for a fugitive in my home, especially when it’s the man who has made me the laughingstock of the court . . . twice.”
Lolly nodded her wizened brown head. “It’s been an eventful day, to say the least. Would you like me to make you some peppermint tea?”
“That’s kind of you, but I’m exhausted. I think I’ll just retire for the night and hope no one else pounds on our door. You should get some sleep too.”
Lolly bowed her head and turned. “As you wish, my lady.”
After the light in the hallway had flipped off and Lolly’s bedroom door was once again closed, Bella hurried in and released Ronan from the hidey-hole. “They’re gone,” she said, and then gasped as he pressed her backward, crowding her against the closet wall behind her. Magick snapped around his head like a blue halo, maybe triggered by . . . what? His emotions? Could his emotions be that strong where she was concerned? It seemed unlikely.
“Ronan, what are you doing?” Her voice came out a touch too breathy for her own peace of mind.
He said nothing in response; he only stared down at her with his eyes heavily lidded. Shadows concealed half his face, but she could still tell his expression was serious, and there were sexual intentions in his eyes that made her stomach tighten and anticipation pool a little farther south. Ronan didn’t touch her, didn’t even kiss her. He only dipped his head so she could feel the heat of his mouth near hers, scent the mint on his breath. He remained so close to her skin that heat radiated from his body and warmed her.
Her hands made fists at her sides as she fought her reaction to him tooth and nail. No way was she going to make this easy for him, not after what he’d done to her. No way was she just going to give in to him now. She was no longer the young, naïve woman she’d been the first time they’d been together. She was no longer dazzled by his good looks and power.
Although the touch of him apparently dazzled her body.
She moved a little, hyperaware of all the changes his proximity was eliciting in her. This was not good. This was not something she wanted, but the only way to get it to stop was to get away from him.
“Back away from me.” Her voice sounded surprisingly even. It was a Yuletide miracle that she could sound so calm right now.
“No.” He pressed in closer and she lost her breath for a moment. His mouth came down so close to hers that she could feel the words he spoke. “I need you.”
Something she’d been holding in, all penned up and tightly lidded, bubbled up from her depths, bringing with it a swell of emotion. It burst over her like a berry in her mouth, sweet and luscious, making her melt against him for a moment and close her eyes. It would be so easy to give in, to forget and just allow this. There was still a part of her that wanted him so much, more than anything.
“It was never that I didn’t care about you,” Ronan whispered. “Bella, don’t you know that?”
“How could I know that?” Her eyes popped open and she pushed him backward, which had all of the effect of trying to move a boulder, but he stepped back anyway. “Get out, Ronan. I’ve tried to save your butt twice now and I’m done. Get out, and good luck.” She started to force her way past him, but he caught her by the elbow.
“You still care about me.”
She closed her eyes again. “Ronan . . . ”
“I’m leaving now, but I’m coming back for you. You’re mine, Bella. You always were and you still are.”
She wrenched her arm from his grasp and turned from him. “You’ve got no right to call me yours. You threw me away years ago, you bastard.”
“I made a mistake. I’ve regretted it for years. I thought at the time it was the right thing for you.”
Bella stopped short, but didn’t turn around.
“I was wrong. I have wanted to turn back the clock for decades now, make the other choice. I didn’t know until tonight that you still carried any residual feeling for me.” He paused. “But you do, don’t you? Otherwise you never would’ve offered marriage to save me.”
She said nothing for several moments, her hands clenched tightly at her sides and her mind in a whirl of surprise and confusion. Her words had left her completely. She didn’t know what to say anyway. How dare he tell her these things after he’d rejected her all those years ago and left her alone!
“I’m going to the Boundary Lands. There’s something there I need to retrieve, something I didn’t think mattered until you came to me at the prison. Now this object means everything. It will save my neck and make it possible for us to be together.”
The Boundary Lands. A little thrill went through her at the prospect.
She turned and studied him, her brow knitting. Memories of the years following his rejection of her welled up. A muscle in her jaw worked. “This object you need to get from the Boundary Lands, it’s what you stole for the Phaendir, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“I can’t tell you, for your own safety. I’m going to retrieve this object, and when I come back, you’re mine, Bella.”
“I’m not yours. I’ll never be yours. You made sure of that three decades ago.”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He didn’t believe her. Why should he? She barely believed herself. This man held a power over her that she could not deny. “As you wish.”
“I’ll see you safely out of the building and into the square. I’ll wish you luck and then we’re saying good-bye. Forever.”
His eyes clouded black for a moment. “I’ll take what I can get from you, but this doesn’t mean it’s the end. Now that I know you have a seed of emotion for me, I intend to make it grow.”
She stared at him, unable to believe the words he’d just uttered or the ferocity behind them. Not in the last thirty years could she have imagined she’d be hearing them from him. “It’s too late.”
“It’s never too late. I want you and I won’t give up until you’re mine.”
“You didn’t want me before. What makes you think I want you now?
”
That made him blink. Good. His level of confidence where she was concerned disarmed and annoyed her. Her head was still spinning from the last twenty-four hours.
She turned and stalked into her bedroom, where she dressed in a pair of jeans, a warm gray sweater, and a pair of black boots.
He was lucky she had a whole stack of Yule gifts in her closet at the moment, waiting to be wrapped. Some of them were clothing items for men. After she found him a black sweater, a coat, and a pair of boots, she grabbed her own coat and they made their way out of the building.
Her shoes crunched the snow on the cobblestones as they kept to the shadows along the edges of the square. The Imperial Guard marched at the far end of the open expanse, a sight that made Bella far colder than the winter air biting through her heavy burgundy coat.
Above their heads, the Wild Hunt returned to the Unseelie Court, their pockets stuffed full with fresh souls, perhaps. The air above Bella and Ronan stirred, and the soft sounds of wings and the baying of the hounds broke the snow-laden quiet.
But Ronan’s soul wasn’t in that mysterious dark man’s possession. At least, not yet.
A block away, two revelers laughed and drunkenly slapped each other on the back, on their way home from a Yuletide fete, no doubt. All the evergreens around the edges of the square gave off a gentle glow of festivity, dressed with lights and ornaments. Even the much abused and hated statue of Jules Piefferburg, founder and architect of the fae prison, was dressed in Yuletide finery. He even had a sprig of holly tucked behind one charmed iron ear. Normally they dressed the statue as a woman or adorned it in rotten fruits and vegetables. If it hadn’t been made of charmed iron, much worse would have been done.
“There, you’re in the square. Good luck, Ronan. I sincerely wish you well. May you successfully evade the guard and return with the object, victorious.” She turned back toward her building.
A hand clamped down over her wrist. “Don’t put me too far from your mind, Bella. I’m coming back for you.”
She turned back to him with wide eyes, her surprised breath huffing out white in the cold air. “Let go of me. All I have to do is scream and the guards will come running.”
Magick tingled against her skin. A bolt of blue darted across his pupils, like lightning. “You wouldn’t. I know you wouldn’t.”
“Don’t make assumptions when your life is at stake.”
A rustling came from nearby. The tromp of imperial boots in the snow. Suddenly panicked for him, she pushed him backward into the shadows and then followed. The reaction was instantaneous; she needed to protect him. It proved everything he’d said, but she wasn’t about to admit it.
“Ronan Achaius Quinn and Bella Rhiannon Caliste Mac Lyr, stop in the name of the Summer Queen.”
“Gods damn it. They saw you,” Ronan growled. In one smooth move, he had her over his shoulder and was running along the wall toward the shadows between the buildings.
The guards shouted and gave chase, boots in multitude crushing the snow and ice in pursuit. Ronan muttered a few words of Old Maejian, the ancient language of the Tuatha Dé, and a duplicate image of Ronan and Bella split from their bodies and headed in the opposite direction, running across the square while they—the real they—melted seam lessly into the inkiness of the space near the base of the Rose Tower.
The guards took the bait, changed directions, and followed the illusion. Magick like Ronan’s came in handy.
“Let me down!”
He stopped and eased her to the snowy pavement. He’d covered their snow tracks with another illusion. He paced away from her, pushing a hand through his hair. “Bloody hell, Bella. You have to come with me now. I didn’t want this. It’s too dangerous.”
“Yes, well, I don’t want to go either.” Even though a part of her did. He was going to the Boundary Lands and she very much wanted to see them.
And maybe that wasn’t the only reason she wanted to go with him.
“I’ll tell them I coerced you into going with me.”
“The guards clearly saw me trying to protect you, Ronan.”
He swore under his breath. “It doesn’t matter. Once I have the object, I’ll be able to bargain with the Summer Queen for anything.”
She tried, and failed, to imagine what could compel the Summer Queen to forgive Ronan of all his trespasses, and Bella’s too. Her voice lowered. “What did you do for the Phaendir, Ronan?”
He smiled, his teeth white against his golden skin. “I stole something for them and then I stole it from them. Something very rare and powerful.”
FOUR
Ronan studied Bella as she walked under the soft glow of the intermittent streetlights with snowflakes catching in her long dark hair and on the shoulders of her burgundy coat. She glanced at him. She’d drawn her normally lush mouth into a thin line and narrowed her eyes.
They were making their way farther into the Ceantar Láir, the area where most of the fae in Purgatory lived, the trooping fae—all those who didn’t belong to one of the courts and weren’t wildlings. The Ceantar Láir formed a half ring between downtown Piefferburg and the Boundary Lands, and there was a lot of water in it and many bridges. They were walking because any other sort of transport right now was too risky. Metal amplified tracking spells.
“Give it up, Bella.”
“I’ll never give anything up to you.” She continued her march.
He missed a step at the venom in her voice and watched her walk past him. His objective was to make that a lie. Right now he lived for it. He wanted her to give everything up to him. He wanted to fuck her luscious body from twilight to morn—every way she’d allow him—with no sounds issuing from her lips but sighs, moans, entreaties for more, and his name.
The phrase I love you wouldn’t go amiss either.
He picked up his pace
