by Anya Bast
“He’ll be staying here for the next week and I have decided you shall be his guide and general helpmeet while he’s here.”
“Me?” Aislinn blinked. “Why me?” The question came out of her mouth before she could think it through and she instantly regretted it. One did not question Caoilainn Elspeth Muirgheal; one simply obeyed.
The Summer Queen lifted a pale, perfectly arched brow. “Why not you?”
“With all respect due you, my queen, I think—”
“Do you have a problem with my judgment?”
Oh, this was getting more and more dangerous with every word the queen uttered. The room had chilled a bit, too, a result of the Seelie Royal’s mood affecting her magick. Aislinn shivered. “No, my queen.”
Gabriel glanced over at her with a mocking smile playing on his sensual, luscious lips.
Nope, she didn’t like him one bit even if he did have sensual, luscious lips.
“That’s a good answer, Aislinn. Do you have a problem with Gabriel? Most women would kill to spend time with him.” The queen gestured airily with one hand. “I thought I was doing you a favor after your . . . unfortunate incident with Kendal.”
Oh, sweet lady Danu. Aislinn gritted her teeth before answering. “I don’t have a problem with him, my queen.”
The queen clapped her hands together, making Aislinn jump. “Good, that’s all settled then. You’re both dismissed.”
Aislinn turned immediately and walked out of the throne room, Gabriel following. She didn’t like having him behind her. It made her feel like a gazelle being stalked by a lion. He’d soon find out this gazelle had fight. There was no way she was going to lie down and show him her vulnerable, soft stomach . . . or any other part of her body.
They exited into a corridor thronged with curious onlookers. Carina, partway down the hall with Drem, made a move to walk to Aislinn, but Aislinn held up a hand to stop her. All eyes were on her and Gabriel. She didn’t want to linger here and she really didn’t want anyone listening in on their conversation and using it to weave rumor. They could watch Faemous for the juicy details, just like everyone else.
Falling into step beside her, Gabriel surveyed the scene and ran a hand over his stubble-dusted, clefted chin. “Is it always like this over here?” His voice, deep and low, reminded her of dark chocolate.
“Like what?” she snapped in annoyance.
He encompassed the corridor with a sweep of his hand as they made their way down. “All the Seelie nobles standing around and gossiping.” He glanced at her stern expression and sobered. “Never mind. Forget I mentioned it.”
“Insulting my home is not a good way to start things off, Mac Braire.”
“Call me Gabriel, and I wasn’t insulting it. I was making an observation. I want this to be my home, too, remember? That’s why I’m here.”
“Sounded like an insult to me,” she muttered, hightailing it away from the clumps of Seelie nobles doing exactly what he’d just accused them of. Although he walked faster than she did. She had to fight to keep up with the strides of his longer legs.
“I apologize.”
“How does the Shadow King feel about your defection from the Black? He can’t be very happy.”
Gabriel gave a low laugh. “He’s not. I’m taking a huge gamble. If the Summer Queen rejects me and I lose the protection of the Seelie Court, I may lose my head, too.”
“You don’t seem all that nervous about it.”
“I don’t live my life in fear. Anyway, I’ve lived so long that I’m a thrill seeker. Anything to break up the monotony. Anything for change, Aislinn.”
The way he pronounced her name sent a shiver down her spine. He rolled it on his tongue like a French kiss, smooth and sweet as melting candy.
It made her miss a step and deepened her annoyance.
She picked up her pace and matched his strides once more. “Listen, I don’t know why the queen selected me for this job, but the last thing I want to do right now is babysit you.” Ouch. That had been harsh. She winced as the words echoed through her head. He hadn’t done anything to her and she wasn’t sure why she was feeling so hostile. It had to be because of her recent breakup with Kendal. Gabriel reminded her of him.
Every man reminded her of him.
She still felt so raw and vulnerable. She needed time alone to lick her wounds and heal. The last thing she wanted was to be forced into spending time with an obvious womanizer who could wield sex as a weapon. Literally. Perhaps she was using this man as a scapegoat for her wounded pride and broken heart. If so, that was wrong . . . yet she couldn’t seem to help herself.
He halted, hand on her elbow. “Whoa. Look, Aislinn, if you feel so strongly about it, I’m sure I can find someone else to ‘babysit’ me.”
She winced again, turning to face him. She was being a bitch and needed to rein it in. Regret pinched her and she opened her mouth to apologize.
“It’s too bad you don’t want to spend time with me, though, since I have news of Bella and Ronan. They’ve been anxious to get back into contact with you.”
Danu. Bella and Ronan? So they were at the Unseelie Court, after all. Aislinn had assumed they’d gone there, but wasn’t sure whether or not the Shadow King had allowed them residence in the Black Tower.
The Seelie Court was called the Rose Tower because it was constructed of rose quartz. The Unseelie Court was referred to as the Black Tower because—never to be outdone—it was made from black quartz. The delivery of large quantities of each had been allowed by human society and the Phaendir, and magick had been employed to make it usable as a construction material.
Gabriel walked ahead of her, intending to leave her in the dust. Damn the man! He’d tossed that last bit out, and then left, to punish her. He knew she’d chase him. Clearly her first impulse to dislike the man had been dead-on.
“Hey.” She took a couple of running steps to catch up with him. “I’m sorry. I’ve been unfair to you. You’re all alone and could clearly use a friend”—although she was sure he’d end up with plenty of “friends” here soon enough—“and someone to show you around. Let’s start over.”
He stopped, turned toward her, and lifted a dark brow. “Ah, so you do want to know about Bella and Ronan.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I mean, yes, but I didn’t say that just to have news of them. This is about me being fair and giving you the benefit of the doubt.”
“Benefit of the doubt? What movie about me have you made in your head, sweet Aislinn? And without even knowing me.”
“That you’re a dangerous, arrogant, superficial man with piles of discarded, heartbroken female bodies on each side of the path you tread.”
They’d stopped in a large open area where a huge fountain, in the shape of a swan, flowed into a pool. There were fewer people here. For a moment all was silent except for the sound of running water and the clicking heels of the few passersby.
He studied her with hard, glittering, dark blue eyes. “Your honesty is very refreshing. I’m sorry that’s your first impression of me. Perhaps I can change it.”
“Maybe you can.”
“A little too honest, that’s my first impression of you.” He narrowed his eyes. “And perhaps a bit jaded about men at the moment.” He loosely shrugged one shoulder. “Just a guess.”
Good guess. Time to change the subject. “Why do you wish to change courts anyway?”
“I’m surprised a pure-blood Seelie Tuatha Dé would ask such a question. I thought everyone here believed the Rose Tower superior in all ways. There should be no question why I wish to defect from the Black.”
Aislinn didn’t understand the twist to his words. It was almost—but not quite—mockery. An odd attitude to have when he seemed to want to join those he mocked for the rest of his very long life.
“Apparently Bella and Ronan have gone to the Unseelie Court. It can’t be that bad.”
Gabriel smiled. “Well, there’s no Faemous film crew there.” No. Apparently t
he film crew the Shadow King had allowed in years ago had been eaten. “And the nobles aren’t as . . . prissy.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Prissy?”
He nodded. “The Unseelie Court is darker and you have to watch your step.”
“So I’ve heard. Magick cast, blood spilled.”
“Sometimes. The magick is stronger, more violent, and held in higher regard. You know that. The laws are different there and you have to be careful. You don’t want to make enemies of some of them.”
Fear niggled. “How are Bella and Ronan?”
“Good. They’ve adjusted to life in the Black. They said to tell you they’re fine, but Bella misses you. They say to tell you they’re happy.”
She studied him for lies. It was what she wanted to hear, of course, and Gabriel seemed the type to tell you what you wanted to hear. But she so wanted to believe what he’d said. She’d lost more than one night’s sleep worrying about her friends. The memory of watching them walk away into Piefferburg Square on Yule Eve, forever banished from Seelie by the Summer Queen, still made her heart ache.
Though the crime that Ronan had committed—taking work from the Phaendir—normally would have held the punishment of death. He’d been lucky. They both had. The Phaendir, a guild of powerful immortal druids, were the sworn enemy of the Sídhe—Seelie and Unseelie alike. Enemy of all the fae races.
There was good reason.
The Phaendir, with the full support of the humans, had created and controlled the borders of Piefferburg with powerful warding. They called it a “resettlement area.”
Piefferburg’s inhabitants called it prison.
If one wanted to be philosophical about it, the fate of the fae was poetic punishment for the horrible fae race wars of the early 1600s that had decimated their population and left them easy prey to their common enemy, the Phaendir. The wars had forced the fae from the underground, and the humans had panicked in the face of the truth—the fae were real.
On top of the wars, a mysterious sickness called Watt syndrome had also befallen them. Some thought the illness had been created by the Phaendir. However it had come about, the result was the same—it had further weakened them.
The two events had been a perfect storm of misfortune, leading to their downfall. When the fae had been at their most vulnerable, the Phaendir had allied with the humans to imprison them in an area of what had then been the New World, founded by a human named Jules Piefferburg.
These days the sects of fae who’d warred in the 1600s had reached an uneasy peace. They were united against the Phaendir because the old human saying was true—the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Aislinn cleared her throat against a sudden rush of emotion. Bella had been the only one in the court who’d carried the weight of Aislinn’s secret. Really, Bella had been more of a sister than a friend. “Come with me. I’ll give you a tour before dinner.”
“Sounds good.”
They walked the length and breadth of the Rose Tower, which was enormous and completely self-sufficient. She showed him all the floors and how they were graduated in terms of court ranking. The higher floors, the floors closest to the queen’s penthouse apartment, were where the purest-blood Seelie Tuatha Dé resided. She showed him the court-yard in the solarium where the families with children lived so they could have yards to play in. The school. The restaurants on premise where the nobles dined. The ballroom, the numerous gathering areas, and the banquet halls.
Most of the residents never really left the building for much beyond shopping or to have a night of dining out. Some of the more adventurous slummed it at a few of Piefferburg’s nightclubs, but the Summer Queen discouraged the Seelie Tuatha Dé from mixing with the trooping fae—those fae who didn’t belong to either court and weren’t wildings or water dwelling.
While social contact with the troop was discouraged, un-chaperoned and unapproved contact with the Unseelie Tuatha Dé was strictly forbidden. Aislinn suspected more of the illicit sort went on than was widely known. After all, she suspected her own mother of it. There was no other way to explain away certain . . . oddities . . . in Aislinn’s magickal abilities.
She and Gabriel ended up at her front door. A good thing, since she wanted her slippers, a cup of hot cocoa, and her own company for the rest of the evening.
Gabriel grabbed her hand before she could snatch it away. “Thank you for spending time with me today,” he murmured in Old Maejian, the words rolling soft and smooth like good whiskey from his tongue. He bent to kiss her hand in the old custom, his gaze fastened on hers. At the last moment, he flipped her hand palm up and laid his lips to her wrist. All the while his thumb stroked her palm back and forth.
That callused rasp in conjunction with his warm, silky lips sent shivers through her. Made her think about his hands and lips on other parts of her body, which made her think of his long, muscled length naked against her between the sheets of her bed.
In a sweaty tangle.
Limbs entwined . . .
Bad incubus. She snatched her hand back.
He stood for a moment, bent over, hand and lips still in kissing position. Then he grinned in a half-mocking, half-mischievous way, straightened, and walked down the corridor, all sex wrapped in black and adorned with a swagger.
She supposed the Summer Queen thought spending time with Gabriel would be good for her after her breakup with Kendal. A little meaningless fling to get her back on the dating horse? But she did not do meaningless flings.
And she was definitely unappreciative of being saddled with a man like Gabriel Mac Braire.
Sweet Danu, what had the queen thrown her into?
TWO
AISLINN shifted uneasily, watching Gabriel come toward her in the ballroom. A hundred other men in the room were dressed in the same style of black wool tuxedo, but none of them wore it like the incubus. His hair was pulled back at his nape, revealing the almost brutally perfect bones of his face and accentuating the deep blue of his eyes.
“Sweet Danu,” Aislinn murmured, taking a sip of her champagne. She jumped, startled, as Carina came up on her side.
“Oh, my goddess,” Carina said, gazing hungrily over the rim of her glass. “Look, he’s coming over here.” She made a low growling sound. “There’s something about a man from the dark side, isn’t there?”
“No, there’s not.”
“I’m so jealous you get to be his guide.”
“You’re not the only one. Think of Drem.”
“Drem doesn’t care how much I drool over other men as long as I come home to him.”
As he cut through the crowd, people seemed to move out of his way by pure instinct. It was odd the way the men seemed to sidestep him. Even the women did, though they might take an appreciative look at him while they moved aside. Was it because he was Unseelie? Was it because he was incubus? Neither explanation seemed right to her, but she couldn’t put her finger on the threat he seemed to unconsciously exude.
Somewhere deep within, Aislinn also had the subtle impulse to get out of his way, despite his attractiveness, and it had nothing to do with the fact that she wanted nothing to do with men at the moment. She pointedly looked away from him as he approached.
“Aislinn,” Gabriel greeted as he came to stand near them. “Carina. You both look beautiful tonight.”
“Thank you,” answered Carina with a simpering smile. Aislinn rolled her eyes.
He motioned with his hands at the thronged room. “So, is this a special occasion?”
“You know well that this is a common event,” Aislinn answered. “We discussed it this afternoon.”
“Yes, that’s right. Weekly, right?”
“Periodically.” Gabriel was ever so lightly mocking again.
“Would you like to dance, Aislinn?”
She hesitated, jaw locking.
“Sure she would,” Carina answered, slipping Aislinn’s champagne glass from her fingers and giving her a “helpful” push forward.
Gabri
el slipped his hand around her waist and led her toward the dance floor of the glittering ballroom, where couples already swirled to the traditional music of the Seelie Tuatha Dé Sídhe. They had all danced to the same melodies a millennium ago. These days they were just more refined.
His hand was large, imposingly so, and possessive on her waist as he led her into the crush. He took her hand in his and pulled her much closer than she wanted, though the proximity was proper for the dance. Her breasts swelled above the bodice of her dove gray gown, making her feel naked all of a sudden.
She cleared her throat and tried to get comfortable in his arms. The problem was that she actually was comfortable in his arms. He made her feel safe in a way she didn’t want to examine too closely.
“How are you enjoying the Rose Tower so far?” That was a nice, distant question and she’d even sounded polite. Score point one for her.
“It’s nice and the women are friendly. Not the men, though.”
She gave a short laugh. “That can’t be anything odd for you, an incubus. The men feel threatened.”
“Not in the Black Tower.”
She made a scoffing sound. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I missed you today,” Gabriel said, his voice low and soft near her ear.
She’d been gone all afternoon. “I was volunteering in the ceantar láir. There’s a center there for—”
“Homeless fae. Yes, I know of it.” He smiled a little. “Close your mouth.”
She realized she’d been gaping and snapped her mouth shut. It was hard to believe he knew of the shelter. Aislinn couldn’t think of one Seelie who did. “Sorry. I volunteer there once a week preparing and serving meals.”
“The queen can’t like that much.”
“She’s fine with it,” Aislinn said defensively. In actuality, the queen suffered Aislinn’s “hobby,” as she called it, badly.
