Jasic’s eyebrows arched before he gave Maggie a proud smile. “The point is she did beat her.”
“No, the point is she coulda been squashed like a tree beetle.”
“She wasn’t, you irritating creature. And how dare you suggest that I would wish my granddaughter harm.”
“That’s just what you’re doing if you’re telling her not to worry about Mab.”
Bezel was worried—and that made Maggie’s spine twitch. If her resident pixie thought she was in trouble, Maggie was willing to bet he was right. She’d come home from the DMV, and found Bezel the only one there, since Nora was at her place napping and Eileen was at school. The pixie had spent the last couple of hours training Maggie.
He’d had her leaping and crouching and shadow-boxing and spinning all over the backyard like a crazy person. He’d made her practice the focusing ability necessary to blow Faery dust at an opponent so intensely that she was light-headed from all the deep breathing. The next hour, he’d had her work at sketching portals in the air. She was getting better at that, but she really wanted to learn how to shift from one place to another. For that, she’d have to learn from a Faery, but she really didn’t want to ask her grandFae to be her teacher.
Illogical or not, she just couldn’t bring herself to fully trust the grandFae who’d so recently barged into her life. The rest of her family didn’t seem to have a problem with him, though. So why did Maggie? She wasn’t sure. It was just a really vague sense of . . . uncomfortableness around him. Probably not even a word.
Plus, Bezel didn’t like him. Of course, Bezel had something nasty to say about almost everyone. Still, Maggie trusted the pixie more than she did the stranger so intent on invading her life. What did that say? she wondered.
She took another sip of ice water, leaned against the kitchen counter and tuned back in to the battle raging in front of her.
“Besides,” Bezel was saying, his pointy, bewhiskered chin jutting up at the Fae sneering at him, “even though Maggie won that fight with Mab, who’s to say she will again?”
“Oh, thanks very much,” Maggie put in.
Bezel waved one hand at her.“Didn’t say you couldn’t do it, did I?”
“She’s the Queen now,” Jasic argued. “She has warriors to protect her, a palace to retreat to and she certainly shouldn’t be spending time rolling around in the dirt with a pixie, of all things.”
Retreat? He meant hide. She briefly considered it and felt a sudden yearning for a blanket to pull over her head.
“It’s called training, you useless pile of trollshit.”
“Just one minute there—”
“Both of you shut up,” Maggie shouted, and instantly, both of the males currently bothering her turned furious gazes on her. “I really don’t need this crapola right now, okay? I’ve got enough going on in my life without you two going at each other, looking at me to referee.”
“Hey”—Bezel held up both hands—“no biggie to me. Train or don’t train. You want your ass kicked, that’s your problem.”
“You’re a queen now, Maggie,” Jasic explained slowly and quietly as if talking to a not-quite-up-to-specs three-year-old. “There’s no need for this pixie to rule your life.”
“Oh, please!” Maggie shook her hair back from her face. “Like Bezel’s in charge around here? I don’t think so. Anyway, I’m done training for the day. I’m going to Otherworld. I need to talk to Finn about all of this. See if there’s any way to really keep Mab from escaping from wherever the hell she is.”
“First good idea you’ve had all day,” Bezel told her.
“A wizard,” Jasic sneered.
“Is there anyone you like?” Bezel asked, then answered the question himself. “Besides yourself, I mean.”
“Bezel—” Maggie headed for the backyard, mainly because she knew Jasic wouldn’t follow her. Her grandFae had become way too fond of her living room couch and the hidden wine fridge behind the faux fireplace. He’d already gone through three bottles of Chardonnay in the last two days and if he drank her last one, Maggie was going to kick his ass all the way back to Otherworld.
When she was out in the yard, halfway between her house and Nora’s, she stopped and turned around to look at Bezel.
“That grandsire of yours is a whole new level of Ifreann , if you ask me,” he said, giving Maggie a look that dared her to argue with him.
She wanted to. It was pretty much instinctive for her to defend family. Besides, who wouldn’t want to discover a grandfather you hadn’t known existed? For years now, the entire Donovan family had consisted of just Maggie, Nora and Eileen. They were great together, but she understood why Nora, especially now, what with the baby and everything, wanted to connect with her roots. To have extended family was a gift. Another branch on the family tree. A link to a world that was new and scary and overwhelming at times.
Heck, Maggie wanted him to be a good guy, too. She just couldn’t bring herself to believe he was. His fault? Or hers? She didn’t even know anymore.
“Just ignore him,” Maggie said, and wasn’t surprised to hear Bezel muttering something unintelligible. “Okay, yes, he’s hard to ignore. But Bezel . . .”
“I know, I know. He’s family. What am I? Chopped Tarkian?”
Maggie tipped her head to one side and blinked at him. “Why, Bezel. Are you jealous?”
“Hah! Me? Jealous? Of him?” He kicked at the dirt and a soft cloud of dust rose up, and settled on his green velvet suit. Quickly, he brushed it away, then blew out a breath. “I don’t want you getting the wrong idea or anything, but for a part-Fae, you’re not all bad. And besides, until Fontana lets me come back home, you’re all I’ve got.”
“Wow.” Maggie smiled and wiped away an imaginary tear. “That was beautiful.”
He sneered at her. “Nobody likes a smart-ass queen, you know.”
She sighed. “I know Jasic’s bugging you, so while I’m gone, keep an eye on him, okay?”
Instantly, his pointed ears twitched and his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Don’t trust him, do ya?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Didn’t have to.”
Maggie rolled her eyes at the satisfied expression on Bezel’s wrinkled face. “Fine. Look. I’m just saying, it’s a little . . . coincidental that he shows up now. So why don’t you see what you can find out, okay? Watch him. See who he talks to. What he does.” God, should she feel guilty for spying on her grandfather? As soon as that thought rose up, she squashed it. There were way too many other things she could do guilt about. “There’s probably nothing going on. I just want you to keep your eyes open, okay?”
Bezel slapped his palms together and scrubbed them in anticipation. “I’ll watch him, all right. We’ll be closer than a Dinci demon and its parasite.”
“What?” Maggie held up a hand. “Wait. Stop. Never mind. Don’t want to know. Just watch him.” She shot a look at the house before adding, “If you notice anything weird, tell me about it.”
“I’m all over that,” he assured her.
“And I need you to look out for Nora and Eileen, and if Claire comes over . . .”
“Forget it.” Bezel shook his head so hard, his silvery hair lifted and twitched like live snakes. “I draw the line at babysitting witches.”
Maggie’s best friend, Claire MacDonald, had been spending most of her time at Maggie’s house in the last few weeks. Well, except for the past few days.
Claire and Maggie were both artists, the only difference being that Claire actually made a living selling her paintings and Maggie had to decorate glass windows to support herself and paint in her spare time. And since Claire was off finishing up a mural for a client, she hadn’t been around much in the last few days. Too bad, too, because Maggie was more anxious than ever to get Claire’s read on Jasic.
After all, being best friends with a psychic witch had to have some perks, didn’t it?
“I thought you and Claire were getting along all right now,”
she said.
His mouth pursed as if he were tasting something sour. He stroked the wispy beard at his chin and said, “Got nothing against her except she’s a witch and witches and pixies are like . . . chocolate and tuna.”
“Ew.”
“Exactly.”
“Anyway . . .” How did he manage to drag her off topic so fast? “Claire’s not here, so I just want you to look after Nora and Eileen—”
“Where you going?” a perky young voice asked.
Maggie sighed, turned and smiled at her niece. “I have to go to Sanctuary. Talk to Finn.”
“Oh!” Eagerness was stamped on her young face and Maggie felt herself weakening almost immediately. “Can I come?”
Bezel chuckled and Maggie accepted the inevitable. Eileen, the most book-loving kid she’d ever known, had been drooling to visit Sanctuary ever since Maggie had first told her about the place.
It was, in a word, impressive. Like an old-world library, only as big as a state, Sanctuary held all the knowledge of the Fae—not to mention thousands of years’ worth of mortal history. The kind that humans didn’t have access to. The kinds of things that were destroyed when the Library of Alexandria was burned to the ground. There were answers to the world’s questions in that place and it had been only a matter of time before Eileen found a way to indulge her curiosity.
“This isn’t a sightseeing mission, Eileen,” Maggie warned her. “I’ve got to talk to Finn and—”
“I’m quiet,” Eileen interrupted, then shrugged.“Okay, I’m not. But I could be. If I tried. And I’ll try. Come on, Maggie. You said you’d take me sometime. Why not now? Mom’s taking a nap and Bezel’s crabby—”
“I am not—”
“And anyway, forty-seven percent of promises made to children are broken. You don’t want to be a statistic, do you, Aunt Maggie?”
Eileen lowered her head and looked up at her from under her lashes. Her bottom lip poked out just enough to be pitiful and the slump of her shoulders completed the picture. If there was one thing a Donovan knew how to do, it was pout.
“Wow,” Maggie said, “you’re good.”
Eileen’s head snapped up and she grinned. “So I can go?”
“Yeah, you can go.” Maggie grinned, shook her head and told Bezel, “When Nora gets up, let her know where we are.”
“Right. Uh . . .” He paused. “I’ll watch out for you know who, too.”
Maggie frowned. She didn’t need Bezel letting Eileen know she was keeping an eye on Jasic.
“You need some help drawing a portal?”
Now it was Maggie’s turn to sneer. “I’m not a complete idiot. I’ve been practicing.” She lifted one hand, focused her mind, concentrated on the spot in Sanctuary where she wanted to be and then drew a circle in the air.
Golden light defined it and the air within shimmered with light and wind and the soft scent of . . .
“What is that?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.
“It ain’t Sanctuary,” Bezel muttered. Quickly, he dispersed Maggie’s portal into the wrong place and drew a new one. This time, the colors were familiar and the faint scent of flowers sighed from its center.
“There you go, Your Majesty.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Maggie said. She grabbed Eileen’s hand and stepped into the light.
Sanctuary was living up to its name on this visit.
Maggie felt like a refugee from a war zone. There was so much going on at home, just stepping through the portal into Sanctuary’s cool, calm atmosphere helped her breathe a little easier. Though she hated to admit it, the Cree-An she’d spoken to at the DMV had made her more nervous than she’d like. She’d also made Maggie think about Mab—Where was she? And that led naturally to Could she get out?
Could Mab somehow find a way to free herself? Because if she ever did, Mab would come after Maggie in a heartbeat. No sense fooling herself. Maggie knew that the once-mighty Fae Queen would want a little payback and she would for sure want her throne back. Which would mean getting rid of Maggie.
Just one more thing to worry about, she told herself, with a glance at her surroundings. She and Eileen had materialized in the main room where she’d spent so much time on her first visit.
Now, as Maggie looked around at familiar surroundings, Eileen was entranced with the otherworldly.
“This is amazing,” the girl beside her whispered, awe in her voice.
“It really is, isn’t it?” Maggie’s gaze slid over the pale, marble walls, where threads of silver in the stone sparkled like secret treasure. The marble should have given a feeling of cold sterility, but instead, warmth radiated from the walls, enveloping the visitor with a sense of well-being.
Gleaming tables held crystal vases filled with a riot of blossoms in every shade of the color spectrum. Their scent and what Maggie thought were probably the lingering effects of lemon polish filled the air with a homey kind of atmosphere. And the miles of bookshelves that studded the walls were stuffed with tomes both ancient and new. Their brightly colored leather bindings made them look like jewels shining in the dark.
The windows in Sanctuary were always open and sheer white panels danced in the constant breeze. Soft, delicate scents wafted in and just as before, Maggie had to wonder from where they came. Sanctuary was literally a castle in the sky.
No ground stood beneath it, no sky hovered over it. Instead, pale blue surrounded the building that was out of time and space and wisps of white clouds sailed past like ships gliding across a glassy ocean.
“It’s so . . . big,” Eileen said, her head turning first one way then another, as she tried to see everything at once.
“And this is just one room of the place,” Maggie told her.
Eileen’s gaze shifted to hers. “There’s more like this?”
“Oh yeah.” Maggie grinned, and relished the sensation. She’d been so worried, so anxious lately, that she hadn’t taken the time to really step back and see the magic in what her world had become. Now, looking through Eileen’s dazzled eyes, she was seeing this place for what it was.
In a word, spectacular.
“Look up, sweetie,” she said, and lifted Eileen’s chin with the tip of her finger.
“What? Whoa . . .” That last word slid from Eileen’s throat on a sigh of delight so pure that it made Maggie’s smile even broader.
She looked up, too, and just as she had the first time she’d stepped into this room, Maggie felt a tingle of raw wonder sparkle to life inside her. Fifty feet above their heads, the ceiling put the Sistine Chapel to shame.
Brilliantly colored murals streaked across the broad expanse, depicting life in Otherworld. The trees, the crystal towers, the Queen’s castle. There were representations of every kind of Fae she’d ever seen and some she’d yet to meet. There were rivers and oceans and forests so richly detailed, her artist’s soul ached to find a paintbrush and canvas and lose herself in creating her own masterpiece. But just as before, she wasn’t here as an artist. She’d come for help.
Again.
“Majesty.”
She dropped one hand onto Eileen’s shoulder and turned around to face Finn, the wizard and scholar in charge of this amazing place. Tall and lean and so gorgeous most women would have toppled over from the force of his smile, Finn had long blond hair, deep blue eyes, the temperament of an angel and the wicked smile of a devil. He wore black slacks, a long-sleeved white shirt that was open at the throat and black shoes that made barely a whisper as he walked on the silver-veined marble floor. He was, like most other Fae males Maggie had met, quite the hunk.
But with Culhane a part of her life, Maggie was pretty much immune to Finn’s charms.
“It’s just Maggie,” she reminded him, and wondered if she would ever get used to the idea of someone referring to her as “Majesty.” “I really need to talk to you.”
“Of course.” He walked closer, held his hand out to Eileen and said, “You are the Queen’s niece. I’ve heard much about you.”
“Not at all.” He escorted the girl to a nearby table, waved one hand and a tray holding milk, cookies and a bowl of apples appeared in front of her. “Please, Eileen. Make yourself comfortable. As the Queen’s niece, you are most welcome here. Look around. Explore. Enjoy yourself. That’s what Sanctuary is for.”
“Excellent,” Eileen said. She was already turning to look at the immense bookshelves lining the white marble walls.
Maggie chewed briefly at her bottom lip. Eileen was in her care, so she just had to ask. “You’re sure she’s safe here on her own?”
“Aunt Maggie!” The humiliation in Eileen’s voice was complete.
Finn only smiled. “Certainly. You know better than anyone, Maggie, that when a Fae enters Sanctuary, their power is stripped from them, not to be returned until they leave the same way they entered.”
“Right.” That was, after all, how she’d beaten Mab in their big fight. She’d tricked the Queen into showing up at Sanctuary, knowing that Mab would lose her power and they would be closer to even ground than they would have been anywhere else.
For just a second, she remembered that fight—it had happened here, in this very room. If she closed her eyes, she could see it all again, hear the hissed breathing and the slap and punch of kicks and fists that she and the enraged Faery Queen had shared. And she could see, very clearly, the last image she’d had of Mab, just before Maggie had pushed her out of one of the windows.
The Queen’s golden hair flying about her exquisite face, her pale eyes flashing with fury and the smile that had curved her mouth when she’d whispered one last warning . . . “You think you’ve won—but just so you know, when Culhane whispers in the night—he lies.”
She swallowed hard and released that memory, wishing she could simply block it from her mind entirely. Not that she believed Mab or anything, but did she really know Culhane well enough to say that he wasn’t a liar?
Beguiled Page 9
