by Claudy Conn
He grinned, and this incensed her further.
“Are you laughing?” she demanded. “Laughing—now? Why are you laughing? Oh, that … that just beats—wait.” She shook her head and then put one finger up high and in his face. “Never mind. Just tell me, where the frig are we?”
The grin vanished, and he looked around with a frown. “As far as I can fathom, we are in the past.”
“In the past?” Her mouth opened and closed, and she then demanded, “Are you frigging kidding me?”
“No, not kidding you, frigging or otherwise—what is this frigging? Humans have so many idiomatic expressions it is difficult to know all of them,” he answered, frowning still at her.
“Never mind that now. Tell me that you are mistaking a restoration village for being in the past. That is what you meant by the past, right? It must be a restoration village, I know, because what other explanation is there?” She eyed him. “That smithy must have gotten a little drunk and forgot himself … that’s right, that’s what it is, because right here in Killarney there’s a restoration village. And there’s a cafeteria where we can go and get something to eat. I think I would like that now. Tea … yes, with pastry … lots of pastries.” She glared at him. “So, are you going to take me to the cafeteria and feed me? It’s the least you can do.”
When he didn’t answer and only regarded her as though she were insane, she said, “Why are you looking at me like that? I am not the one who thought they were in the past simply because we got spit out of the tornado into a restoration village.”
“We are not in a restoration village. We are in the past,” he answered her slowly.
“Nope, can’t be. Stephen Hawking does not think it is truly possible—because of some curve or other—to time travel, and he, let me tell you, knows what he is talking about. I should know—I’ve tried reading his chapter on time travel.” She was rambling, she knew, but couldn’t stop herself.
“By all that is earth, wind, and fire, stop chattering at me and let me think!” He sighed. “Well, at least Shee Willow and Shayne will be able to report to our queen what has happened. I got a message off to them as soon as I found the dolmens and was waiting on them when you appeared out of nowhere.”
“Not out of nowhere. I was hiking—it is a National Park—and I was hiking, minding my own business, doing what is expected when on a trail … hiking, enjoying the sights—”
He cut her off. “Stop going on and on about it.” He considered her and shook his head. “Mad, the experience has made you quite mad.”
“Damn straight it has. How would you like to be hiking, minding your own business, and accosted by a Royal Fae? Mad? I am furious.”
He chuckled. “That is not exactly what I meant, but indeed, from your point of view, matters are quite intolerable.” He sighed heavily. “I wish for your sake that we were in one of your human historical villages, but we are in the past. When I inspected the village earlier, before I located you, I discovered a newspaper that denotes the fact that we are in the year of 1816, in the month of August.”
“Noooo, didn’t you hear what I told you about Stephen Hawking? Ha, in the past, not likely.”
“I did hear what you told me, and your human, Stephen Hawking, is quite right. However, Pestale has been obviously playing with dark magic, and dark magic can do what science cannot.”
“What are you saying?” She took a step away from him, not wanting to accept what he was telling her. Maybe she had fallen and clunked her head? Maybe that was it, and she would wake up in a hospital?
“The Dark Prince must have opened a portal, no doubt attempting to get to the Human Realm, but was sucked into the past instead. Something went wrong.”
“You think?” She pulled a face at him and then asked, “He opened? Who—he? Sucked in? Dark Prince? You mean like in the devil, Dark Prince … or someone else?” She shook her head. “Not liking the sound of this, but never mind all that. How do we get sucked back to the present?”
He eyed her ruefully for a long moment and said, “To answer your questions, no, not the devil humans refer to. He is the Dark Prince Pestale—an Unseelie Royal. He has done this before, gone to the past before, but on purpose. This time, I rather think he did not mean for this to happen. It was a completely clumsy effort, not like him at all.” He shrugged. “No doubt, he has been affected by the waters of the Cauldron. As to getting back just yet, we don’t.” He frowned and reached for her chin. “You are bruised.”
“Not sure I understand any of this,” she said, pulling away from him. “Maybe you are the one who is … mad?”
“Were you bruised in the time portal?” He wasn’t letting go.
She sighed and grimaced. “That big oaf put his grimy, rough hands on my face when he tried to force a kiss out of me.”
The Fae Prince’s face suddenly took on an ominous expression, and he said on a low growl, “I shall go teach him some manners! Such behavior cannot be tolerated.”
She laughed, but when she saw he was serious she shook her head. “I doubt anyone could teach that Neanderthal manners. But never mind him. I’m okay, and we need to keep a low profile and find a way home. Home—let’s just concentrate on getting home.” A tentative smile curved her lips, and she offered, “Thank you, though, for your concern.”
She watched him as he looked out into the distance and said with an off-handed wave of his big, strong hand, “Of course I am concerned. You are here in part because I failed to stop the Dark Prince. Thus, I must consider you a lesser being under my protection.”
“A lesser being?” She hauled off, smacked his chest, and then resisted the need to cry out in pain from the impact. She said with a hiss, “I’ll show you lesser being.” It occurred to her, though, that however much she did not like hearing him call her that, it was in fact precisely what she was.
“Why do you attack me? It is, of course, a waste of time, but why do you do it?”
“Did no one ever teach you about manners? You don’t insult someone by calling them a lesser being!”
“But it is the truth,” he said, looking at her with puzzlement.
“Truth? Whether it is truth or not, it is not nice, and it wasn’t necessary. You are a Royal, yes, but you are also, arrogant and as cold-blooded as a … shark. How do you like that?”
“But you are not being factual. I am not cold-blooded.” He suddenly moved even closer to her. “I am, in fact, quite warm-blooded.”
If she hadn’t been so annoyed with him, she might have admitted he had just sent chills up her spine. However, she was annoyed with him and not admitting anything. She wagged a finger and said, “You go about your business because it is your business, regardless of the consequences to others trapped by your … your … whatever it is your business is. You haven’t got a clue how to conduct yourself when in the company of those who aren’t Fae—Royal or otherwise. That is cold-blooded, that is thoughtless, and, and … never mind!” She threw up her hands.
He eyed her for a long moment and then offered, “You are very emotional, but perhaps we can get past that and begin again. Before we proceed, you may tell me your name.”
She glared at him. She realized, however, she was in a precarious situation and would need to rely on him to get her out. He didn’t seem intent on doing any of the things Fios had been taught to fear. He didn’t, in fact, seem to wish to scurry her off to Faery as she had been raised to believe. Thus, she said, “Jazmine Decker, and I am not emotional! I have just been, according to you, shoved into the past—the year 1816 in fact. I have been accosted by a brute of a smithy and told we are stuck here in the past. What do you expect from me, hearts and roses?”
He eyed her thoughtfully. “I am not really certain what to expect from you, as you are a human female, and why should I expect hearts and roses? It seems a very odd thing to expect, but back to the human thing … I find that you are not quite human—are you?”
“Oooh!” She felt the urge to punch him again but calmed h
erself. “Okay, give me something to call you.”
“Something? It is more than something,” he said, his chin up and one well-shaped eyebrow arched. “I am Trevor, Prince of Lugh.” However, after a brief pause he made the mistake of adding, “And, yes, you are emotional. In fact, I find you more so than some of the humans I have interacted with recently. Although Red says humans can be quite practical and logical, I have not yet witnessed it.”
“Oooh,” she seethed again. She glared at him and then once again quieted herself as curiosity got the better of her. She inquired, “Who is Red, another one of your cold-blooded Royals?”
“Red is what I have called Princess Royce since childhood—because of her flame-colored hair. We are very different, she and I, but also the best of friends, and Red is anything but cold-blooded.”
She eyed him. “A childhood friend? I never thought of Fae as ever being children.”
He ignored her and said, “What you need to know, Jazmine Decker, is that we were taken through a time portal. Pestale, the eldest Dark Prince of the remaining three Dark Princes, did this not so long ago when he meant to take over both the Seelie Fae Realm and the Human Realm. We, of course, defeated him, but against my wishes he was allowed to live.” Trevor paused as he gritted his teeth and composed himself to add, “See now what comes of it?”
“I’m with you on that. Never let your enemies live to come back at you one day.” She frowned and then asked, “Right, okay, if he escaped, why did he try to get into the present if he meant to come here to 1816? That doesn’t make sense.”
“No doubt something went wrong in his calculations. Opening the portal from the Dark Realm is not easily done.”
“Well, this time I hope you intend to finish him off. This playing with portals and time is so not good,” Jazz said irritably as she looked around. She was venting; she needed to vent. She really wasn’t sure that she wasn’t just hallucinating. It would be so much better if she were having some kind of fantasy.
“Indeed, perhaps you are more intelligent than I had at first assumed.” He put up his hand to stall her when her finger came up and pointed at him, and he hurriedly added, “Obviously, he meant to travel to our present time but miscalculated and was sent into the past. We were taken with him, as the portal must have encompassed a larger area than he anticipated, and anything living was sucked in with him. I am certain he is still working on a way to get to our time, which we must counter at all costs.”
“WE? There is no we trying to stop a Dark Prince. There is you trying to stop a Dark Prince and me trying to get home.”
He shrugged. “You are here and perhaps capable of distracting him while I take him down. You might prove useful in this manner.”
For a moment, Jazz was sure she felt steam rise in her head and exit her ears. “I might prove useful?” She poked him in the chest and said, “I want to get home, so I am hanging with you. Big ol’ period to that!”
“In order to get home, we must first capture him and discover how it is he got here.”
“You are a Royal Seelie. If he can time travel, why can’t you?”
“Time travel was something we once were able to do. Something went wrong some years ago with the curvature, probably because somewhere along the line someone did something in the past they should not have. Now time travel eludes even the Fae. I am certain the Dark Prince did not wish to time travel but wished only to enter the Human Realm.”
“Yeah, well, here we are, so now what?” Jazz pulled a face and started pacing. What was she going to do? Her senior group would be waiting for her to guide them first thing in the morning. This would mean no tips, and she needed that extra money to see her though the summer.
“Indeed, Jazmine Decker, here we are,” he said and went into deep thought.
She waited a few moments and then nudged him to ask, “I repeat, now what?”
“We find him—Pestale, who must be responsible for this anomaly—and return him to the Dark Realm where he belongs, and hopefully we’ll find a way back to our time.”
“Hopefully? That is all you can give me? Hopefully?” Jazz was beginning to worry, really worry. She was so going to be oh so fired!
As an answer, he took her hand, and before she knew what he was doing, they did what she had heard all her life Fae did to get from one place to another in a matter of seconds: they shifted.
* * *
Once again, and this time more comfortably, she was traveling with a Royal Fae, her hand clasped in his large, strong one. Only this time, it was nothing like the black hole that had earlier swallowed, battered, and parted them. This form of travel, while momentarily disorienting to her, was over quickly, taking only a second or two, and she found his hold oddly assuaging to her frazzled nerves.
Man, she thought, this sure didn’t feel like a dream or a nightmare; it felt real.
A moment later, they stood in the middle of a busy avenue as pony carts laden with supplies, riders on horseback, and elegant coaches traveled past them. The dust drifted upwards, and she coughed. Oh, yeah, so real.
He pulled her out of the way of an oncoming carriage. Once they were both on the curbing, he stood for a moment looking around. “We are protected by the Féth Fiada. We cannot been seen by humans.”
“We—meaning, I’m invisible as well?”
“Yes, as long as you are near me.”
“How near?” She eyed him doubtfully.
He grinned, reminding her of an adorable, naughty boy. She banished this thought. “Right, okay, so now what?” she asked again.
“Now what, now what? You don’t have to keep repeating the same question. Be content that I am working on a solution to our problem.”
All at once, she realized that one of the things that seemed to travel through her mind, soothing and intriguing her, was his accent. He had an accent, one she could not quite place. Something of an Irish lilt, but something else as well. She couldn’t name it, for it was nothing familiar, but it was incredibly beautiful. And his voice was masculine and full of confidence. Absurdly, she felt safe with him, sure he would get her home.
Lost in these thoughts, she jumped when his voice echoed loudly in her ear.
“Aha! His scent is fresh!” he pronounced with a sneer. “We have tracked him to earth.”
She looked in the direction his strong chin pointed and saw a lovely Tudor-styled inn at the edge of town. “Tracked him to earth? You make it sound as though he is an animal.”
“His actions have made him little else,” replied Trevor on a hard note. Then she felt herself pulled speedily along, felt that same ‘shifting’ rush, before finding herself standing on level ground, this time in front of the inn. She looked his way and stared wide-eyed as he sniffed the air.
He was sniffing the air. Like, holy cow, so her mother had been right. They did use sense of smell to track. She knew they were capable of incredible feats of tracking, but she couldn’t believe it was through sense of smell. So, then, he was tracking this horrible Dark Prince? She swallowed. This meant they would soon come face to face with him. Uh-oh, that was fine for him … Royal Fae, there. Mere mortal, here.
She then studied the ring of tattoos on his huge bicep, and as she looked him up and down, she admitted once again to herself that in spite of his arrogance, he was one fine-looking male! Oh, was he ever. She frowned, silently berating herself for giving in even for a moment to such a thought.
A puzzled expression took over his face, and he said, “You frown a great deal, Jazmine Decker.”
“I have good reason,” she answered, still frowning.
He laughed, and she discovered that his smile was absolutely mesmerizing, as was the sound of his laughter. How could he be so coldly overbearing one moment and so incredibly sexy-boyish the next?
She said, “Look, I have to find a way to get back. I have people in our time waiting for me, depending on me—what will they think? I have a job to do, and, well, how will I ever explain this?”
�
��I am sorry for your problem, but if Pestale is here, then here is where I must be to do my job, and doing that, you must see, will also be the solution to hopefully get you back in time to do yours.” He said, “Now, before we go inside the inn, you must tell me just what you are, Jazmine Decker, for we both know you are quite a bit more than human.”
She realized she wasn’t afraid of him any longer. For one thing, she had remembered the Treaty: Fae were prohibited from causing any permanent injury to humans. She sighed, for she knew the Treaty didn’t stop them from playing their pranks, but it did prohibit them from doing more than that. In addition, her inner self told her this Royal would consider it beneath him to bother playing planks on her. He seemed sincere about returning her to her life, but would he still do that if he knew what she was?
Should she just tell him that she was a seer? He would guess it in the end. She opened her mouth but instead of telling him said, “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you!”
“No, that is correct. You would be dead,” he answered pragmatically. “Now, if we could get back to my question. What, Jazmine Decker, are you?”
“Listen here, Royal. I am a tour guide, and very soon, this fall in fact, I will be a marine biologist at the Charleston Aquarium, and … oh, never mind.” A sudden urge to cry tickled her throat.
“Yes, but that is not what I am asking,” he said, displaying something close to a temper, which surprised her. She had been raised to believe the Fae were an alien race, superior mentally and thus coldly detached and unemotional. His constant change of facial and body language disputed that old theory and gave her pause. She would have to rethink this later.
Her reticence had obviously annoyed him, and her brows went up as he shouted, “Now, tell me not who you are, or what you do, but WHAT YOU ARE!” Clearly he had lost patience as he hovered threateningly.
