His face softened and he rose to embrace her in a quick hug that included three firm thumps at the center of her back. “Okay, now, get the hell out.”
It was such an Alexander response, she snorted. “I’m not going anywhere. We need to talk. Did you know I’m mated?” When he hung his head like he was exhausted, she went on. “Come on, Alex. Talk to me. Please.”
His eyes narrowed as if he were deliberating between flashing her the middle finger or tolerating her for a few minutes more. After a long pause, he raised his chin and said, “Fine. Just you.” He glanced at Gabriel. “Everyone else, out!”
Rowan leveled a stare on Gabriel and he relented. He and the others left without another word.
Alexander rubbed his wrists. “He can be such an asshole.”
“Undisputed,” she said. “Now it’s just you and me. Tell me where you went just now. You scared the hell out of me.”
He nuzzled the bird on his shoulder and stroked her feathers. “I was thinking about Maiara.”
“What about Maiara?”
“There’s something I never told you about the night we met her.”
Chapter Six
1699
Port of Philadelphia
No respectable excuse existed for Alexander to follow Maiara from the Owl’s Roost, but he could not resist. He told himself he was concerned for her well-being, but there was nothing incapable about her. On the contrary, she exuded strength and understood this world better than he did. But night had fallen while they discussed their plans, and he felt strange allowing her to go into the freezing darkness on her own.
Whatever had caused this deep need to protect her was unreasonable and uninvited. But it was also undeniable. All he wanted to know was that she was safe and sound and had found a decent place to spend the night.
After how they’d treated her at the public house, he was afraid all the inns would be similarly resistant to her occupying their rooms. And if that were the case, he planned to offer her a room even if he had to sneak her inside.
His concern for her increased exponentially when she exited the boundaries of the town and walked into the forest by the light of the moon, which tonight was round and full in the star-filled sky. He cloaked himself in invisibility and followed at a distance, careful so she wouldn’t hear his footsteps.
Raising her arm, she released a long, low whistle. A few moments later, he heard a rustle of feathers and her red-tailed hawk swept in, landing on her offered perch, and chattered at her.
“Shh, shh, Nikan. I am sorry it took so long, but I brought you something.” She fed the bird a strip of meat she must have squirreled away from the stew she’d eaten. The bird gulped it down. “It’s not much. I hope you were able to hunt while you waited for me.”
The hawk swallowed and chattered once again.
“No. There will be no bed for us tonight. This place is inhospitable to our kind.” Nikan squawked and flapped on her arm.
Alexander didn’t like the sound of that. Did she plan to sleep outside? That wouldn’t do at all.
“Yes, I do think he was the one I dreamed about,” she said to the bird, and his skin tingled. Was she talking about him? “His energy is… unusual.” The bird cooed in response. “I’m not sure what it means, but Mother wanted me to meet him. I am certain. Besides, we need the coin for winter.”
Deep among the trees, she stopped before a large twisting oak. “Here we are.”
He froze when she began to undress. What was she doing? It was far too cold for this. She removed her pack and weapons, then each layer of her clothing quickly, folding the pelts and skins carefully beside the base of the tree.
Her silky skin gleamed in the moonlight, the mounds of her breasts, tips lusciously peaked, visible between the shadows of the trees. She turned and the light caught the spread of her shoulders, lean but muscled like a dragon’s, and the taper of her back down to a slim waist. The tops of her buttocks, smooth and round, were visible before the rest of her disappeared into shadow. He watched her shiver against the chill night air.
He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He should look away. What excuse for a dragon watched a woman undress? No matter how much he chastised himself, he could not do it. Everything about the woman intrigued him. It took all his effort not to rush forward and wrap his wings around her to protect her from the chilly December wind.
Battling his dragon against this inappropriate temptation, Alexander planted his feet, dug his nails into the palms of his hands, and concentrated on staying exactly where he was. If he couldn’t force himself to look away, the least he could do was not interfere. Maiara rested both her bare hands against the bark of the oak and suddenly and abruptly disappeared. He blinked and blinked again. Had he consumed too much ale? One moment she was there beside the tree, the next she was gone. Completely gone. He stumbled forward, dropping his invisibility and rushing toward the tree.
Right, then left, he searched the woods for her. Her scent lingered in the air. He tried to follow it but only ended up back at the tree. He ran his hand along the fur cape she’d folded at the base, her deerskin clothing beneath it. She’d definitely been there. How far could she travel naked as she was?
Perfectly still, he held his breath and listened. A rabbit scratched its ear a few yards away, and a bird ruffled its feathers directly above him. He looked up. The red-tailed hawk was in the branches of the oak, staring down at him with intense, knowing eyes that had no business being in the head of a bird.
“Where is she?” he whispered.
The hawk blinked twice, flapped its wings, and jumped to a higher branch, turning its back to him. No help there. He stared at the gnarled bark of the ancient tree, and a chill that had nothing to do with the cold traveled through him. No wonder they called this the New World. This was a strange land indeed.
Feeling uneasy, he backed away and hurried to return to the Owl’s Roost. He pondered telling Gabriel what he’d seen but was relieved to find all his siblings had abandoned the main hall for their rooms upstairs. That gave him an excuse to wait and consider his options. For reasons he didn’t quite understand, he wanted to keep her secret, perhaps confront her about the tree and her nakedness. He wanted to know more, to know everything about her.
What sort of magic had led to her disappearance? Could she make herself invisible? Dissolve into the moonlight? Did all the Indians in this new world have these abilities? The white men had called them savages. Was the term born of fear because they’d witnessed such phenomenal magic?
When he entered his room, he found his oread, Willow, preparing his bedchamber. The creature’s skin shone like polished pearl in the flickering light of the candelabra, and Alexander wondered again at this strange world and its creatures. But his sense of wonder soon gave way to concern. Often the nymph carried his gossamer wings high, raised above his shoulders, but tonight they drooped from his back as if boneless and soaked through.
“Willow, am I mistaken, or do I sense a melancholic air in your disposition?”
The nymph’s voice came soft and melodic as he turned from the shelf he was dusting. “The long journey at sea has drained my reserves, my dragon. Our kind require the grounding energy of the mountain or the lush green life force of trees. Even the cool luxury of fresh water can sometimes invigorate our magic. Salt water, though, is toxic to nymphs, and we were a long time at sea before coming here. I will recover in time, with rest.”
Alexander changed into his bedclothes, handing his linen shirt and breeches to the oread as he undressed. “When we arrived in Crete and your kind came down the mountain to greet us, I was under the impression that you fed off our energy and this partnership was advantageous to you.”
The nymph’s eyes grew unnaturally large. “Oh, we do! Your energy has sustained me, sir, and it is my privilege to be in your employ. You’ve freed me from the prison of my mountain. But we need more to thrive. We need more to feel alive.”
As Alexander washed up using the bas
in Willow had filled, he thought he understood more than he’d expected to. Losing their home in Paragon had been hard enough, but constantly moving over the past year had left him with a perpetual ache behind his breastbone. He was unmoored, rootless, and what comfort he drew from the family he still had would soon be torn apart as they again found permanent homes separated from each other. They’d survive, but could any of them thrive again?
He climbed into bed and reached for his sketchbook. Willow had kindly placed it on his nightstand. Lifting his charcoal pencil, he began furiously drawing Maiara, the slope of her shoulder, her back, her glorious bottom. He placed her near the tree, in profile, her hands resting against the bark. It was a vivid likeness, and he caressed the long sleek darkness of her hair that cascaded down the center of her back. Staring at the drawing in the candlelight, an idea flickered to life in his head. “Willow?”
“Sir?”
“Are there others like you in this land? Ones who… have a relationship with the trees?”
The oread thought for a moment. “Oreads are mountain nymphs, and my family is from Crete, where you found us. I’ve no idea what magical creatures populate this land although I would suspect dryads, er, tree nymphs and water sprites given the topography. I will say this, these humans you live among have a horrible habit of refusing to see the magic in their own world. I believe it would be stranger to think we are the only enchanted beings here than to assume we are not.”
“Hmm.” He continued to work on his sketch. “How do you tell in this realm who is human and who is not? How would you know another nymph if you met them? I mean, if they were disguised as a human?”
Willow paused. “I don’t understand your question, sir. Nymphs are just like you and me. If you suspect a creature isn’t human, why wouldn’t you simply ask?”
Alexander rubbed his face. He didn’t think it was normal behavior to go around asking strangers if they were nymphs. Willow came from a place with few humans. Magical creatures were more of the norm for him. “Never mind. It was just a thought.”
Willow’s slender fingers pressed into his chin. “If there were nymphs in this area, I doubt you’d meet them now.”
“No? Why not?”
“The weather here grows cold. Once the trees sleep for the winter and the waters freeze, the nymphs associated with those natural sources of magic would either sleep until spring inside their element or be stuck in their human form until the thaw. If the legends we were told as children are true, it’s a vulnerable time for their kind. I doubt very much they’d be mingling with strangers now.”
As Willow finished cleaning Alexander’s clothes and packing them away before extinguishing the candles, all Alexander could think about was the look of desperation he’d seen on Maiara’s face when she’d first entered the Owl’s Roost. Whatever she was, she needed help, and he wanted desperately to be the one to give it to her.
Chapter Seven
2018
New Orleans
If you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself. Aborella’s patience had long ago run thin with every subordinate she’d sent to capture the treasure of Paragon. Now the job was proving far more frustrating than she’d foreseen.
She’d been posing as a human named Charlotte and compelling Raven’s father, David, since June. It should have been a simple job, but he’d yet to succeed in luring the witch and Gabriel to his side. The man was useless. He seemed to have no power over his children whatsoever.
Power was something Aborella had plenty of. In Paragon, she was considered the most powerful fairy to have ever existed, a seer and sorceress to the crown. Sorceress was a necessary descriptor. She was not a witch. Unlike witches whose magic came from the natural elements, Aborella’s power originated in life itself. Plants and herbs were the tools of her trade, but her sorcery was not limited to potions and poisons. On the contrary, by draining the life force from growing things, she could gain enough power to perform the most complex spells, along with those inherent to her fairy composition.
Born and raised in the fae kingdom of Everfield, she’d excelled at magic from a very young age. But despite her extraordinary talents, no one there had wanted to be associated with her. The ancient runes she tattooed into her skin to enhance her power scared them, and she cared little for shallow social interactions. What need did she have for performing the dance of the five kingdoms when she could reduce a tree to dust with the touch of her finger? Which was why Eleanor was so important to her. The empress and Aborella understood each other, and their friendship had changed their world.
Consequently, she’d agreed to come here. Eleanor wanted her children, and Aborella planned to deliver.
Illusion had always come naturally to Aborella, and tonight was no exception. She watched herself in the full-length mirror, her naturally purple skin, her filmy, gossamer wings. The webbing was the same color silver as her irises and the platinum cascade of her hair. She thought herself quite beautiful, but unfortunately this appearance would not get her what she wanted.
Rolling her neck, she sent a cascade of creamy white skin to cover her true complexion, red hair in place of the white. She folded her wings away and stretched her body to look like the models in the magazines. She constructed a face with a series of angular and delicate bones and colored her eyes a deep shade of emerald.
When she was done, she donned a filmy white tunic and wide-legged flowing pants with a pair of strappy sandals. The doorbell rang. Time to shine.
David had promised her tonight was the night Raven and her sister Avery would finally come to dinner. All she had to do was get Raven to drink the elixir she’d made, and the witch would be her puppet. After that, finding the treasure of Paragon—the eight sibling heirs to the throne who’d been exiled here centuries ago—would be easy.
The elixir was important. Raven had the power to absorb magic. At their first meeting in Paragon, she’d drained Aborella into unconsciousness. It had taken her days to recover. That would never happen again. Now that she knew how the witch’s magic worked, she’d keep herself beyond the woman’s reach until Raven was under her control.
The doorbell rang, and she heard that lout, David, lumber from the living room. Aborella practiced Charlotte’s smile in the mirror and then strode toward the foyer to meet him.
“Avery, come in, honey. Where’s Raven?” she heard David say.
Aborella’s blood began to boil. Had the witch dodged her trap again?
“Dad, I told you earlier, she messaged me yesterday. They’ve extended their honeymoon. Gabriel surprised her with yet another excursion.” Avery Tanglewood looked so much like her sister that at first Aborella thought the witch was standing before her. But Avery’s cheeks held a fullness Raven’s did not, and of course, Raven by now would look very pregnant, unlike this woman whose trim waist made her curvy figure seem exaggerated.
David’s eyes rolled back and his face turned red. His voice shook as he said, “I told you Raven had to come. You weren’t supposed to come without her.”
Clearly offended, Avery backed toward the door. “Fine. I’ll go.”
“Please, excuse your father,” Aborella called as she turned the corner into the foyer. “He’s only asking for my sake. I’m afraid he’s a bit overzealous about finally introducing me to your sister.”
“Hello, Charlotte. Nice to see you again.” Avery held out her hand like a good little human, and Aborella gave it a practiced pump.
“Won’t you join us in the dining room? We were about to open a bottle of prosecco. Would you care for a glass?”
Avery pushed her dark hair off her shoulder, her skin still dewy from the New Orleans humidity, and glanced at her father. “Prosecco, huh? I didn’t know my father drank anything but beer.”
David blinked, waiting for Aborella to answer for him. She’d have to cut back on the compulsion. The man appeared half-baked.
“Oh, I think you’ll find I’ve expanded David’s horizons more than you’d th
ink.” Aborella reached the dining room and popped the cork on the bubbly wine, pouring it into the glasses she’d readied. The elixir of Paragonian milkwood she’d dribbled into the bottom fizzed as the bubbly liquor mixed with it.
“Honestly, you’re so sophisticated, Charlotte. Sometimes I wonder how you two ended up together.” Avery glanced between her and David.
Aborella handed her one of the tainted glasses. “I think you underestimate your father. His mind is more pliable than you give him credit for.” She raised her own glass and took a deep drink. Avery brought the glass to her nose but lowered it without taking a sip.
“I’m just happy he has someone. It’s great that you two found each other.” She set the glass down and Aborella silently cursed.
“So, where is that sister of yours, Avery? It’s been weeks since the wedding, and I haven’t seen her since.” Aborella gave her an exaggerated pout.
“You know honeymooners.” Avery shrugged.
Aborella gestured toward one of the dining room chairs, the place already set with a dressed salad tainted with elixir. “Please, sit. You must be starving.”
As expected, David sat like a well-trained dog, eliciting a frown from Avery. “Wow, you’ve got him… trained,” Avery said in a tone that was meant to sound light and playful but which reeked of concern for her father.
“Where did Raven and Gabriel go again?” Aborella asked. “Your father has been vague on the details.”
“That’s because there were no details. Gabriel planned it all, a surprise honeymoon. Even Raven didn’t know for sure where they were going. Knowing Gabriel, though, they are probably traveling across Europe or cruising the Virgin Islands. He’s not one to spare any expense when it comes to Raven.”
Aborella frowned. “Surely she left you some way to contact her. Everyone nowadays stays in constant contact. She must have a cell phone. Can’t one of you… communicate with her somehow and find out where she is?” Despite her best efforts, Aborella’s voice had become shrill.
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