Beguiled

by Maureen Child

  She knew he was right. It was time. Time she gave up her ties to the world where she didn’t belong anymore. Time to move her family and her friends to a palace that could be safeguarded more thoroughly than her little beach house ever could be.

  Time to be what destiny had already named her.

  More bad was coming. But then, she’d known that all along. She wrapped her arms around Culhane’s waist and clung to him so tightly he’d have to peel her off later.

  She was shaken. Scared. And royally pissed off.

  Maggie was done being the nice Queen. It was time to kick some serious Fae ass.

  And she was just the Donovan to do it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Maggie was never going to make it living in a castle that was entirely white.

  She was a girl who loved color. Texture. She enjoyed the tactile experience of putting paint to canvas. She relished being surrounded by jewel tones, by soft greens and pale yellows. She liked flannels and silks and those nubby bedspreads that used to be so popular.

  In a crystal palace with white marble floors and the occasional pulse of faded color, Maggie felt . . . uneasy. Uncomfortable. She wanted warmth and coziness.

  And she wasn’t going to find it here.

  “Stupid,” she mumbled, doing a half turn in her new bedroom. Here she was worrying about white walls and floor when she had half of the Fae population out for her blood. But then again, if she didn’t feel at home here, how could she fight to remain?

  “Can’t do it,” she muttered.

  Culhane’s head snapped up, his gaze locked on hers. “So you will not stay after all?”

  “Oh, I’m staying.” She fisted her hands at her hips and turned in a slow circle, taking in the Queen’s chamber.

  Her new bedroom was as big as her entire house back in her old life. Wide windows, opening out onto gardens that were so rich and beautiful, they were a painting in themselves. Sparkling marble floors and crystal walls shone like mirrors, reflecting her own image back a thousand times.

  Mab might have enjoyed that, but for Maggie . . . she looked at herself and saw five extra pounds, hair that needed a trim and the beginnings of panic shining in her eyes. Nope. Didn’t need more mirrors.

  There was a closet, empty of all but the space she might need to hang her pitifully small wardrobe. A bathroom that could have been right at home in the Taj Mahal and a formal sitting area beside a fireplace—again white marble—big enough for her to stand up straight in.

  It was gorgeous, palatial and so not her.

  “I can’t live like this,” she murmured.

  Culhane looked stunned. “You do not like it?”

  “Oh.” She turned quickly to face him. “It’s gorgeous. Like a museum or a castle you pay ten bucks to tour. It’s just not . . . me.”

  He smiled, a slow curve of his mouth that was comforting as well as sensual. “Ah. I think I understand. Perhaps something more like this.”

  He waved one hand and Maggie’s breath caught as she watched the room transform, molecules scattering, rearranging themselves in the blink of an eye. Her own paintings, now in luxurious frames, were hanging on walls painted a soft blue. Dark blue, overstuffed chairs now sat in front of the roaring fire, with a small table drawn up between them.

  Pillows, all kinds and colors, were stacked on the window seat, making it look as though a rainbow had spilled into the room and settled in for a long stay. The bed, which she’d already had Culhane change out since no way had she been willing to sleep in Mab’s old bed . . . ew, was now a massive four-poster.

  The very one he’d conjured for their first night together down in the throne room. It looked invitingly plush, with its thick quilts and throws piled atop the mattresses and the mountain of pillows stacked against the headboard. At either side of the bed, lamps burned with soft yellow glows from atop the twin tables that appeared magically. The book Maggie had been reading at home lay on one of the tables also, just waiting for her to pick it up again.

  Maggie grinned as rugs in shades of blues and greens dotted the floor that now looked like oak planks the color of warm honey. Beside one of the windows, her easel and painting supplies blinked into existence and her chair popped in next, all ready for her to pick up her brushes and do what she did best.

  She laughed, delighted. “It’s wonderful.”

  Maggie gave Culhane a grateful smile and shook her head in amazement. “It actually feels like my place now.”

  “It is your place, Maggie. You are Fae,” he said. “Magic is your birthright. You may do what you will to the palace. You are Queen. You must make of it whatever you see fit.”

  “You’re a dangerous man, Culhane.”

  “Not to you,” he countered.

  “Oh, especially to me,” she told him. She knew he’d never meant more to her than he did right this minute. He had, with a wave of his hand, made this new world seem possible. Made her feel as if she might actually belong here.

  “Oh. My. God.” Nora wandered into Maggie’s room. “Did you see my room? It’s bigger than my whole house and I think I had a sexual experience when I saw the bathroom and—” She broke off, took in Maggie’s sumptuous bedroom and said, “This is. Wow. I mean. Wow.”

  “I know.” Maggie smiled at Culhane and walked toward her sister. “So you’re okay with moving to the palace? I know I didn’t give you much of a choice about this, but I really think we’re all safer here.”

  “Yeah, you said all that.” Nora shook her head and looked at her sister. “Don’t worry about me, Mags. The important thing is, we keep Eileen safe.”

  “We will.” Maggie glanced at Culhane for confirmation and the warrior gave her one quick nod.

  “But you said before that you were worried about us staying in the palace. Because Mab used to live here and she’d know it so well.”

  She had believed that, until it had become all too clear that Castle Bay, California, was not the safe haven she’d hoped it would be. There were too many Fae wandering around her hometown. Too many demons making tries for her and her family. So the only thing left to do was to move to Otherworld. Pick up her destiny with both hands and hold on for everything she was worth.

  Maggie was going to do whatever she had to do to keep her family safe. Period. Besides, she had a little idea, which, if it worked, was going to up their safety quotient by a lot.

  “Trust me, Nora. We’re going to keep Eileen safe. And, we’ve got something Mab didn’t have and probably doesn’t know about. Claire.”

  “Claire?”

  “This is amazing, Aunt Maggie,” Eileen said, trying to look at everything at once as they walked through the palace.

  Thanks to Culhane, Maggie had made quite a few more changes to the crystal castle. The walls were now different hues, from pale blue to green, to yellow. Instead of empty, cavernous spaces, rooms were inviting now, with comfy furniture, and paintings on the walls. Fires blazed in every hearth and even the Fae who worked there seemed pleased by the changes.

  There was a warmth to the place that it had probably never known before. Plus, this way it didn’t give Maggie the creeps.

  She didn’t know if she’d ever get used to the way the palace staff were forever bowing to her, but that was a worry for another day.

  “So,” she said, with a glance at her niece, “you’re speaking to me again?”

  Eileen scowled, remembering that whole situation with Devon. “Well, you are the Queen and everything. . . .”

  “Gee, thanks. Feel the love.” The two of them entered the main dining hall and Maggie looked at her gathered “family”—Nora and Quinn, of course, Culhane, Bezel, Mac and Claire. Along the wall, a brand-new doggie bed held a snoring Sheba. And naturally, Jasic had insisted on joining them.

  Since Maggie hadn’t been able to find out anything specific about her grandFae just yet, she’d figured it was a good idea to keep him close enough to watch. But he’d settled into palace life more easily than any of them. It had onl
y been one full day and already, she’d heard that he was keeping the palace staff hopping with his demands. That wasn’t going to fly for long, she promised herself.

  Once Maggie and Eileen were seated, dinner was served. Conversations rose and fell around the table as they ate and Maggie tried to listen to everyone at once.

  “The baby’s moving around a lot,” Nora whispered to Quinn.

  “My son is strong,” he answered.

  “I don’t see why Devon can’t come to the palace,” Eileen said to anyone who was listening.

  “Female warriors are not a good idea.” McCulloch was lecturing Claire.

  “Afraid of a little competition?” Claire countered, making Mac sputter in outrage.

  Maggie hid a smile, then listened to Bezel boast. “Gotta get Fontana over here to see me. That crimson tree out back is gonna be perfect for my new house.”

  “The pudding is warm,” Jasic complained, tugging at the sleeve of one of the serving Fae as he passed.

  Maggie frowned at Jasic, made a mental note to have a chat with Grandpa Faery and looked at Culhane. Now that dinner was mostly over, she asked, “What do you think? Do we tell them now?”

  He smiled and nodded.

  “Excellent,” Maggie said, “that’s what I thought. Okay, everybody, listen up.”

  Instantly, a hush fell over the table and the male Fae servants began to back out of the room.

  She waved them back in. “No, you guys stay here, too. This is going to involve everyone who lives in the castle.”

  The males looked dumbfounded that not only had their Queen noticed their existence, but had spoken to them directly and included them in whatever it was she was going to say. Maggie sighed.

  Culhane had been right about one thing. The males of Otherworld had been treated way too crappy for way too long. She had the distinct impression that good ol’ Mab had never once considered her male subjects’ wants or needs.

  Well, Maggie was coming at this from a whole different viewpoint. She was from a world where until the last hundred years or so, women had been getting the shaft. Sure, now everyone said that equality had arrived, but women were still overlooked for jobs, paid less for doing the same thing men did and they managed to give birth to more men determined to keep them at bug level.

  So she was just a touch more understanding about the whole even-steven rule. And she was going to take care of that, fast.

  First things first, though. She waited until everyone was looking at her and then she said, “I know you thought we were here just until we settled this thing with Mab. But . . . we’re here in Otherworld to stay, people.”

  Everybody spoke at once.

  “What about school?” Eileen demanded.

  “What about our house?” Nora asked.

  “Holy Ifreann, it’s about time,” Bezel shouted.

  “What about my painting?” Claire wondered aloud.

  “Ahhh . . . ,” Jasic sighed with pleasure.

  Maggie frowned at him, but let it go for the moment. Instead, she looked at her sister first. “Nor, you know this is where we belong now. Not just me, you.”

  Nora inhaled sharply and held that breath trapped behind lips clamped tightly together.

  “Come on,” Maggie chided. “You float all the time. You’re pregnant with a Fae and you breathe Faery dust almost constantly these days. Somebody’s going to notice if we stay in the human world.”

  “But it’s home,” Nora said, with a guilty look at Quinn. “Sorry, honey. Otherworld is nice and everything, but it’s not home to me.”

  “It will be,” he assured her.

  “It has to be,” Maggie said quietly, reaching out to take her sister’s hand. “Look, I know none of us asked for this. But the truth is, we’re not human anymore, Nora.”

  Bezel snorted.

  Maggie sent him a glare, then continued talking to her sister. “Not completely human, anyway. Everything’s changed and it’s time we accepted it. You’re turning into a full-Fae and so am I.”

  “When do I get to?” Eileen demanded.

  Maggie sighed. “The point is, we’re in Otherworld for good.”

  “I’m not Fae, Maggie,” Claire put in, and Maggie looked at her friend.

  “No, you’re not. But Claire, you’re my best friend. The Fae know that. You wouldn’t be safe in the human world alone.”

  She looked as if she might argue for a second or two; then she simply slumped back into her chair. Claire didn’t seem to notice that Mac was grinning like a big dork.

  “And we just abandon our house? Our things?” Nora demanded, shifting the conversation back to her.

  “You can bring them all with you,” Quinn told her.

  “It’s not the same thing,” she said, with another look of apology for him before turning her gaze on Maggie again. “We just walk away from the house Grandpa built practically all by himself?”

  Culhane spoke up. “Time runs differently here, remember that. You can be months in Otherworld while a single night has passed in the mortal world. You can return whenever you like.”

  “Or bring the blasted house here plank by plank,” Jasic muttered, and motioned for a server to pour him more nectar.

  “Huh.” Maggie looked at Jasic for a long minute and realized he was right. They could bring the house here. Set it up in the backyard of the palace if they wanted to. With a little Faery magic, they could make it so the neighbors didn’t even remember the Donovan house having once been there.

  Then she shook her head, and added the question of the house to her mental list of things to look into as soon as she had time. For now . . .

  “So anyway, you should all know that Claire’s going to be doing a warding spell on the palace tomorrow.”

  “It is already warded,” Quinn pointed out. “No enemies of the Queen may enter.”

  “Yeah, but that was Mab’s warding,” Maggie told him, and picked up a slice of what looked like a pear. She bit into it, smiled and said, “We need some new ones. With a different kind of punch. Spells Mab won’t be expecting and won’t be able to get around.”

  “You can do this?” McCulloch asked.

  “I can,” Claire told him, smiling at Maggie.

  “Besides,” Maggie added, “it’s not just my enemies we have to worry about. Eileen’s in danger. So is everyone who even knows me.” She groaned internally at that. She’d somehow become like Typhoid Mary or something. She was just the center of some big black tornado that sucked in everyone she cared about.

  To protect them, she was going to have to seal them up inside a Faery palace. Oh yeah. This was going to be fun.

  “It’s not your fault, Maggie,” Nora said, trying to smile through her fears.

  Wasn’t it? Maggie wasn’t so sure. This had all started because she’d killed a demon and inhaled the Fae dust it was carrying. If she hadn’t gone to her ex-boyfriend’s place that day, none of this might have happened. Or, another voice in her mind pointed out, Culhane was right and this had all been destined from the beginning of her life. This was where she would have ended up no matter what.

  The trouble with destinies, she thought, was that they were continually being rewritten. She had no guarantee that she was going to survive all of this. Nothing was written in stone about how long her reign was supposed to be.

  So she had to do the best she could with the information she had at the time. And suddenly, she had a lot more sympathy for presidents and kings and queens. They were probably all stumbling around in the darkness, hoping to make the right decisions.

  “Anyway,” Maggie told everyone seated at the table while she plastered on a happy face and a bright smile so brittle it felt as though it might crack her face, “that’s the story for the short term. New spells. New home. New way of life. Everybody excited?”

  That question was met with glowers, complaints and hushed mutters filled with worry.

  “Yeah,” she muttered, reaching for her wineglass, “right there with you all.�
�

  Hours later, Culhane held Maggie close and buried his face in the curve of her neck. Her scent filled him, wrapped itself around him and held him in a grip as gentle as it was tenacious. Behind the locked doors of the Queen’s chamber, the two of them came together on the luxurious bed as soft breezes drifted through the open windows to slide across their skin and the scent of flowers filled the air.

  “You were magnificent, Maggie,” he whispered, hands skimming along her naked body, loving how she arched into his touch. “You are the Queen I always knew you would be.”

  She blew out a breath, sighed a little, then rolled over to lie on top of him. Flesh to flesh, heat to heat, she rubbed her body along his and Culhane hissed in air through gritted teeth. His cock swelled, his body ached to join with hers.

  “It’s not your Queen who needs you at the moment, Culhane,” she said, going up on her knees to straddle him. She reached down, curled her fingers around his thick shaft and smiled at him. “It’s just me. Maggie Donovan.”

  “You are she and she is you,” Culhane told her with a groan as she rubbed and stroked him until he felt as though he might explode. “The Queen and Maggie are interlocked now. One does not exist without the other.”

  She frowned and in the soft lamplight, she looked more beautiful to him than she ever had before. Golden light spilled over her, making her skin appear luminous. Her blue eyes shone and glittered with an inner pride.

  She had finally accepted her duty. Her destiny. She had come to the palace and already was turning everything in Otherworld on its head. This would not be an easy transition, but he knew she had been born for this.

  And he had been born to be at her side.

  For so long, he’d expected merely to serve as her consort. To rule Otherworld through her. But he knew now, there would be nothing at all without her. That he would be empty without her. She had become the best part of him.