She sighed and he went on. “I know your father loved her very much.” Where had that comment come from?
Ric was well known for his total disbelief on the subject.
Even his songs reflected the futility of love; he never sang romantic ballads. He tried to tell himself that he was only offering a platitude to comfort Meagan, but he couldn’t quite erase the chill that had run down his spine when he heard himself speak of love.
“Did she have a family?”
“Yes. Aidan has the details.”
“I have to know, Ric. Where do you fit into this? And why does it feel like there’s something more, something immediate, that you haven’t told me about?”
He sighed. She was way too perceptive. “Because there is,” he replied, answering her second question first.
“And I got involved as a friend of Aidan’s, but primarily because I was ordered to by my boss. A bard is something more than a musician in my world. I’m also—well, call me an agent, of sorts. The rank is knight, but I don’t usually get involved in actual combat. The nearest equivalent here would be intelligence operative, I suppose. The queen orders and I have no choice but to obey.”
“Queen?”
“Queen Llyris Astrella, Ruler of the Seelie Court. She’s a decent enough monarch, but watch yourself when you meet her. She is completely and totally ruthless in achieving her goals and only she knows for certain what those are.” The thought of Meagan being used by Llyris was making his skin crawl. He knew, down to his bones, that if worse came to worst, he’d break the geas that bound him to Llyris if she tried to hurt Meagan. Even though the gesture would probably cost him his life.
“Of course. I get to meet the queen of the fairies. Can this day get any weirder?” Her snicker was shaky, but genuine.
“Oh, probably.” Her resilience amazed him. He couldn’t resist a kiss, a quick smack on the lips. She didn’t turn away and he took that as an encouraging sign.
“So why, after all this time, were you suddenly sent to find me? You mentioned danger and I’m still getting this sense of, well, urgency, which doesn’t quite compute.”
“Because you are at risk. Llyris has enemies. There is political intrigue in every reality and Elfhame is no exception. You, like it or not, have inherited your father’s seat on the Seelie Council. That makes you a playing piece in a bitter, long-running chess match. Both factions would prefer that you end up on their side.”
“And Owen Ferris belongs to one of these factions?”
Ric growled. “Owain le Faire—aka Owen Ferris—is the leader of a group of radical racists. The Ku Klux Klan of elvenkind. He’d like nothing more than to seize control of the throne and break the compact that has kept peace between the worlds for the last thousand or more years.”
“And I’m somehow involved in this?”
“Yes.” This was the critical moment. Ric knew his magic was strong enough, he could compel her to believe him, force her to accompany him, but if he did, she would eventually find out and she might never trust him again.
And he didn’t think he could stand for that to happen. He grasped her shoulders, looked into her eyes. “You are in danger, Meagan. If Owain can’t control you, he means to kill you. The next in line for your house is one of his toadies. With you out of the way, he’ll control the council and take the throne. Then the gods help both our worlds.”
“Then why hasn’t he hurt me before now?”
Ric winced. “That’s my fault. He probably couldn’t find you either. But when he saw us at dinner last night, and saw your painting today, I’m sure he came to the same conclusions we did.”
“Last night?” She raised one eyebrow in accusatory question.
He nodded. “He saw us at the restaurant. That’s why I hustled you out the back. And why I left you in such a rush. I needed to report in, let my boss and Aidan know that Owain was here in Detroit.”
“Your boss, the queen.” She was shaking her head, obviously still astounded by the whole concept. He couldn’t blame her and he hoped she didn’t end up blaming him either.
“My boss, the queen. Are you ready to go meet her yet?” He tried to curb his impatience, but his foot tapped out a rapid beat on the wooden floor as he tried to hurry her along. Talking was important, but he also needed to get her somewhere safe.
“I—I don’t know. How do we get there?” He stopped tapping and groaned. The vulnerability in her eyes was ripping out his heart.
“There are portals scattered all over the world. The one for the Detroit area is at Aidan’s house.”
“Aidan. My cousin.”
Ric nodded. “He’s dying to know, by the way. We could stop there for a bit. Finish our conversation. Talk to Aidan.” He wondered why he hadn’t thought of that before. There were three days left before the council meeting. She’d be safe under the protection of himself and Aidan’s security force and she’d have time to acclimate, to ask her questions before being whisked through the portal to a whole other world.
The more he thought about it, the better it sounded.
More security for Meagan was suddenly at the top of Ric’s priority list. Ric knew his boss. As soon as Ric presented Meagan, he’d be sent out on another mission, while Llyris kept Meagan sequestered at the palace. The longer he could keep her out of the queen’s clutches, the better.
In fact, Ric mused, Aidan could probably even be convinced to accompany them. After all, he’d have to show up for the council vote, anyway. If Aidan went along, Meagan would be more comfortable and have a personal ally at court. Then Ric wouldn’t have to worry about her every second. Aidan was about the only other individual Ric trusted with Meagan’s physical and emotional safety.
He looked over at Meagan and could practically see the wheels turning behind her clear green eyes. He wondered if she’d been considering any similar possibilities. She smiled thinly. “Well, hell. How long will I be gone?”
“I don’t know.” He honestly didn’t. “Time gets a bit weird when Llyris is involved.”
“What about my house, my art, my class, my cat?” He could tell that she was trying hard to restrain the faint undertone of hysteria that crept into her voice and he wanted nothing more than to promise her that everything would be all right. But he never made promises he wasn’t sure he could keep.
“Ric,” she asked, eyes wide. “Will I ever be able to come home?”
“You will and soon. On my life and soul, I promise that.” So much for not making promises. Much to his own surprise, he meant every word. He’d never yet broken a true vow and he wouldn’t this one. One way or another, Meagan Rose was going to be able to return home safely, or Ric would die trying to ensure it. “Aidan will make sure the house is taken care of, he can probably even find a replacement…” He saw her shudder, stressed the next words. “A temporary replacement to teach your class.”
“And Calculus?”
“We’ll take him with us. Aidan likes cats and they seem to make the transition between worlds particularly well.” Llyris hated the beasts, but he could call in enough favors with her to overcome that problem. He hadn’t been her agent for over six centuries without knowing where a few of the bodies were buried. Literally, in some cases.
“I’ve always thought cats were sort of out-of-thisworld.”
She pulled her hands from him and stood, squaring her shoulders and ignoring the tremor he could still see in her fingertips. Goddess, what a woman! “So, elf-boy, what do I pack to meet the queen?”
Chapter Eight
Getting Calc into his cat carrier proved to be easier than Meagan had expected. Ric seemed to have some natural affinity with even the crankiest of animals. Then again, assuming the story he’d told her was true, maybe he put a spell on the poor beast. She shivered and tossed her comfiest pair of jeans into her suitcase while Ric watched, his golden eyes intensely following her every move. She hoped like hell he hadn’t used some similar magic on her. She’d been acting out of character since the m
oment she’d smacked into him outside the co-op. If she was going to go nuts over a guy who claimed he was an elf, she’d at least like to think the insanity was her own and not something he’d invented.
As she packed her clothes, her thoughts whirled. It was as though her brain belonged to someone else. Maybe even several someone elses. Part of her mind was numb while another part raced. Yet another sat back and watched, making snarky comments and marveling at the improbability of the whole thing. She shouldn’t believe Ric’s explanation, of course. She had to admit, his story sounded insane. Elves didn’t exist. But she couldn’t seem to help believing him. In some weird, twisted way, it made sense, tied so many loose ends together in her world.
She’d never understood her dreams, with their fantasy settings and prophetic tendencies, but they’d always been a part of her, one she’d suppressed while her ruthlessly practical and staunchly Catholic parents had been alive.
They’d loved her unconditionally, but they’d never understood the wilder side of her nature. She knew they’d privately wondered if her mother had been a drug addict, if there was some small chemical imbalance that made Meagan different from the other girls at St. Francis School. When she’d channeled that restless energy into her art instead of her personal life they’d been relieved.
Now Ric was telling her that she’d been right to feel like she never quite fit, that her weirdness was inherited from her elven father and it was sort of scary how desperately she wanted to believe him.
She tried to tell herself that it was only her lust for Ric that made her want to believe him, but she wasn’t buying it. Every bit of intuition that she possessed, along with the evidence in front of her own eyes, since he hadn’t resumed the glamour and still sported the pointy ears, was telling her it was true. Looking at his oversized, almondshaped eyes, sharp cheekbones and long, pointed ears, it was pretty much impossible not to believe.
So here she was, packing a suitcase while Ric sat on her bed and watched. She could tell by his edgy fidgeting that he was in a hurry, but unlike other men she’d known, he didn’t rush her, didn’t push. In fact, he hadn’t spoken a word except to answer direct questions since he’d followed her up the stairs.
“So did you really grow up in Wales?” She couldn’t help but wonder how much of what he’d told her was truth, how much was fiction.
“Sort of,” he grimaced, turned his face away from her gaze. “It’s kind of like overlapping dimensions, I guess. The world map is essentially the same, though and the place I was raised is analogous to the Welsh mountains.”
“So your people—they inhabit the entire world?”
“No, just the British Isles and parts of Western Europe. There are other races in other parts. Gnomes and trolls in Scandinavia, ogres in the Black Forest, djinn in the Middle East.”
Okay, that made sense, though the concept of an entire world populated by what she’d always considered fairytale creatures was—well—overwhelming. She packed her underwear, blushing as Ric watched with a heavy-lidded gaze.
Unfortunately, she’d been uninvolved for so long that most of her undies were of the practical cotton variety, though in a wide variety of colors. With the hope that she’d get the chance to model them for Ric, she did include her small selection of lacier stuff, blushing even more at his broad grin and raised eyebrow. Her body was still tingling from the best sex she’d ever had and the looks he was giving her said they weren’t through yet. If this was all a fantasy, she was pretty sure she didn’t want it to end. It helped, somehow, to know she could make him squirm. It made him seem more real, more “human,” she supposed. Which was weird, because sitting there on her pale blue bedspread, without his illusion of humanity, he looked so exotically handsome that she could barely keep her hands off him.
“So if this portal is in Grosse Pointe, does that mean we’ll end up in the Michigan of your dimension?” She had to get her mind off of sex and trying to figure out how this alternate reality thing worked was a pretty damn good distraction.
“No, the portals traverse distance as well as what you call dimensions. We’ll appear in the entry hall of Llyris’s palace.”
“Which is in Wales?”
“England, actually. Near Stonehenge, which is another portal, though a primitive one. Many of the standing stones in Europe are early portal markers.”
“I guess that makes sense. So you didn’t grow up at the palace, or whatever it is?” She wanted to know him, know everything about him. She could tell he hadn’t always had an easy life and all her repressed nurturing instincts were clamoring to comfort him somehow, ease the pain she glimpsed behind those glowing gold eyes.
“No, my father’s home was in the Welsh countryside. I lived there until his death. Then I moved to the palace.”
“I remember you said he died when you were young. How old were you?”
“Fourteen.” His response was curt, clipped.
“Ouch!” This was obviously an area he didn’t want to talk about, but probably needed to. Great, now she was Meagan the shrink. Well, it beat being Meagan the nosy bitch, she supposed. “I’m so sorry. How did he die?”
“He drank himself into a stupor, and walked off the edge of a cliff into the sea. At least that’s the preferred version. I’d rather think it was a drunken mishap than outright suicide.”
She had no idea how to respond to that except for a hug. Sensing that he didn’t want sympathy, she kept it quick and darted back to her closet. What did one wear to meet the queen of the fairies?
“I am not a fairy.” Ric growled when she asked. “Fae or elf are fine, but that other word has come to mean something far different in recent years.” He waggled his eyebrows. “And I think I’ve proved rather conclusively that I’m straight.”
She turned her face to the closet, to hide yet another blush. She hadn’t been in enough relationships to be so open about discussing sex. She barely heard him move and jumped when she felt his hands on her shoulders, his lips brushing her temple.
“It doesn’t matter what you wear, Meagan. You’re beautiful in anything, even paint-covered jeans. I’m partial to the way you look without any clothes, but I’d rather you didn’t make Aidan’s eyes fall out of his head. He is your cousin, after all. Once we’re through the portal, anything you need will be provided. You’re quite a wealthy woman Underhill, you know.”
She leaned against him with a sigh, closing her eyes.
He felt so strong and solid against her back and it was so tempting to lean on him forever and let him be in control.
But Meagan had stood on her own two feet for too long and she wasn’t about to turn into a jellyfish simply because he’d rocked her world. After taking a moment to enjoy the feel of his strong, warm arms around her, his freshly showered scent overlaid with a hint of her lemon balm shampoo, she opened her eyes and pulled away.
“Seriously, Ric, what will this Queen Llyris expect? A business suit? Evening gown? Give me some help here, please!”
He stepped away, looking as annoyed as most men at being asked to ponder the intricacies of feminine garb. “A suit, I think. She goes in for the formal fantasy look, but she knows what’s going on in this world as well. She’ll recognize a business suit as a sign of respect, an indication that you take her seriously. And you need to take her seriously, Meagan. She’s a good ruler, but ruthless. If she thinks her kingdom would be better off with you dead, she won’t hesitate for a moment. Right now you’re her best hope to thwart Owain, but if anything changes her mind, you could be in serious danger and I really don’t want you to get hurt.” The concern in his expression warmed her heart.
“But you said I’m already in danger from Owain, right?”
He nodded, reaching for the suit she’d pulled from the closet. He laid the coral-colored linen carefully into the garment bag she’d left open on the bed, while Meagan rummaged for her bone leather pumps. This was her meet-with-buyers-and-gallery-owners suit and she’d never been gladder that she’d made
the investment.
“I’ll do everything I can to protect you, of course. And Aidan will be in your corner, as well. He’s got a lot of clout at court and he was close to your father. You won’t be on your own.”
Meagan tossed pantyhose—yuck—and an ivory silk shell into her suitcase. Finally, she zipped it shut and flopped down on the bed. “This all takes a lot of getting used to, you know.”
“I know.”
She reached out a hand, traced his jaw, the line of his ear and felt him shudder when her finger brushed the tip.
She smiled shakily, let her hand fall back to her lap.
“Hard to believe we’ve only known each other for about twenty-four hours. I’m not usually like this, jumping into bed with someone so quickly.”
“I know that, too.” His voice was low and soft.
“There’s something special between us, Meagan. I don’t know what it is, but it matters. You matter. Whatever happens at court, whatever stories you hear about me, don’t let them get to you. I’m a lot of things, sweetheart, including the queen’s agent, a wandering musician and mostly a miserable bastard, but I give you my vow that I will never lie to you and I’ll never do anything to intentionally cause you harm.” He repeated some words in a strange and lilting language, the same one, she was sure, that he’d used while making love. Then he took her hand and looked into her eyes. “That’s an elven oath of fealty, a binding promise, on my honor and my life. As long as I live, anyone who tries to hurt you will have to go through me.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back. Thank you seemed kind of inadequate, so she didn’t know what to say. Acting on pure instinct she leaned forward and touched her lips to his, sealing his promise with a kiss.
Moments later she was flat on her back, crushed to the bed by Ric’s weight. His knee was wedged between her thighs and she was kissing him for all she was worth and running her hands up under his shirt. Nothing had ever felt more natural.
Motor City Fae Page 9
