Wicked Enchantment

by Anya Bast

  Now she sat on her couch and studied the book on the table before her. She’d rejected the Shadow King’s apartment and instead taken slightly more modest accommodations on the other side of the tower. She was dressed regally because it was required of her. Today she wore all red—a perfectly cut crimson gown with a full skirt and a plunging neckline. As she breathed, her breasts heaved gently against the tight confines of the bodice and made him crazy with need. His fingers curled to touch her, to slide under the material and stroke her nipples until she moaned his name.

  But he wasn’t pushing her.

  He settled back against the cushions and forced himself to relax. All he wanted was to jump her, but that was not what she needed right now. And if her cool demeanor toward him was any indication, it was not what she wanted, either. She would come to him when she was ready, when she needed him as much as he needed her.

  She pulled the book toward her and set it in her lap. “Thank you for bringing it to me.”

  He inclined his head. “You have the book and the Summer Queen has one of the pieces of the bosca fadbh. If we can manage to locate the other two pieces, we may have a shot at breaking the hold the Phaendir have on Piefferburg. We’re closer now than at any time in Piefferburg’s history to breaking free.”

  “I am aware.”

  His eyebrows rose at the icy tone of her voice. “And?”

  “And I’m considering our options. I have my first meeting with the Summer Queen soon. I’ll take her temperature on the issue at that time. I don’t know what lay between her and the Shadow King, but all that is done now. Along with it may go some of the hostility between our courts.”

  “You and she have your own issues.”

  “Of course. It’s no secret to her that I defected from the Rose Tower to come to the Black. That will have her nose out of joint, but I don’t know how badly. I need to confer with her and see where we stand.” She fisted her hands in her lap.

  He glanced from her lap to her face. “Are you nervous about meeting with the Summer Queen?”

  She lifted her chin and locked her jaw for a moment before answering. “I wouldn’t admit it if I was.”

  “You don’t have to put on a show for me, Aislinn. You can just be yourself.”

  She stood, holding the book close to her chest. “Are we done here?”

  He cocked his head to the side. “Aislinn, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just that I have a lot to do. I need to prepare for my meeting with the Summer Queen.”

  “All right.” He stood and walked to the foyer. She followed. When they reached the door, he turned to her and closed the distance between them. Her swift intake of breath sounded panicky and she took a step back from him. “If you ever need me, call. I am yours, Aislinn, body and soul. Please remember that. Remember me.”

  “Are you saying that as my subject or as my lover?”

  “Both.”

  She blinked slowly and hugged the book to her as if for protection. “We aren’t lovers anymore, Gabriel. We were thrown together under extreme circumstances. I appreciate your help and your sacrifices, but the ordeal is done.”

  “Aislinn?”

  She paused, drew a breath, looked him in the eye. “And so are we.”

  AISLINN et the Summer Queen on neutral ground. The Summer Queen would not set foot in the Black Tower, so then neither could the Shadow Queen enter the Rose Tower, just from a standpoint of pride. Aislinn didn’t really understand it, but it was the dance she was forced to dance. Thank Danu for Hinkley, who was advising her on proper etiquette.

  She’d always assumed the royals communicated only through messenger fae, but now she learned there was a meeting room they sometimes used in one of the buildings that edged Piefferburg Square. Piefferburg Financial traded stocks in the world securities markets. The fae were separate, but equal, in many ways and Piefferburg boasted some of the most profitable companies in the United States. Many humans coveted products made by fae hands, including elderberry wine and woven rugs.

  Piefferburg Financial’s building was one of the most richly appointed in the city. The boardroom, where she and the Summer Queen met, had a shiny marble floor, with high, elaborately carved tray ceilings with gold leaf. The long, large room reminded Aislinn a lot of the throne room in the Rose Tower. The Summer Queen was probably fairly comfortable here.

  Score one point to Caoilainn Elspeth Muirgheal. Aislinn had declined to enter the Rose Tower and yet the Summer Queen had managed to find a room that looked just like home anyway.

  The Summer Queen sat at the end of the long table, a row of windows that overlooked the square to her left. The Imperial Guard, bedecked in their signature gold and rose, stood in a row behind her.

  The Seelie Royal was dressed in heavy lavender and gold brocade. Her old-fashioned skirts spilled down in a train that draped to the side of the chair and lay in an artfully arranged sweep of rich fabric on the floor. Her pale hair was arranged in a complicated knot on the top of her head. Heavy gold jewelry glittered at her ears and winked from the hollow of her slim, white throat.

  As befitting her station as the Shadow Queen, Aislinn had also dressed elaborately. It was expected of her. She had dressed in bloodred velvet and silk. Her Victorian gown was fitted at the waist and pushed her small breasts to overflowing at the top with the help of a tight corset. The collar of the dress flared and ruffled at her nape, leading down to a silk bodice of a paler shade of red. Her skirts stopped above her knees in the front, revealing black thigh-high button-up boots, also with a Victorian feel. The skirt hung long in the back, giving her a train that was just as lengthy, but less voluminous than the Summer Queen’s. Ruby jewels glittered at her ears. Having the vibrant tattoo of the amulet for throat ornamentation, she’d forgone a necklace.

  Her hair had been left long and natural, although the silver blond tips had been dipped in red, as was the tradition for the royal of the Unseelie Court. She’d opted to steer clear of the fading multihued effect the former king had sported, just to avoid being reminded of him every time she looked in a mirror. She’d destroyed the fighting staff he’d always carried.

  Hooking her hair behind her ear, she approached the Summer Queen with a row of her own Shadow Guard—in their colors of silver and black—walking behind her. She would use the goblin army much more sparingly than her predecessor. One of the men pulled out a chair and she sat down, the guard sweeping her train to the side and settling it on the floor with a flourish before going to stand behind her.

  Score point number two to Caoilainn Elspeth Muirgheal. She was sitting at the head of the table and Aislinn had been forced to sit at her left hand. Aislinn was sure it was clear to all present just how green she was at being a queen. She should have dictated where they met and she should have arrived there far earlier to take cherry placement.

  The Summer Queen smiled slightly. “Aislinn. You’re the last person I thought I would ever greet as the Shadow Queen of the Unseelie Court.”

  “I aim to surprise . . . even me. However, I am the rightful descendant of Aodh Críostóir Ruadhán O’Dubhuir and have inherited the throne by blood.”

  “And might.”

  “I had no choice. I either called the sluagh or suffered the deaths of nine innocent people, myself included.”

  “Indeed. You definitely have a backbone, Aislinn.” Her slight smile faded. “Now why did you desire a meeting with me?”

  A guard came up on Aislinn’s right side with the book. “I am in possession of the Book of Bindings and you possess one of the pieces of the bosca fadbh. We need to discuss potential possibilities.”

  The Summer Queen’s face went pale at the sight of the book that the guard had placed in Aislinn’s hands. She tore her gaze from it and centered it on Aislinn’s face with effort. She recovered from her slight slip of shock with ease, her face settling back into its implacable mask. “How did you get that?”

  “I inherited it from my father.”

&
nbsp; A stricken look passed over the Summer Queen’s face like a fast-moving storm, then was gone. “The Shadow King had this?”

  Aislinn shook her head. “No, not him.”

  The Summer Queen shifted slightly in her chair. “You not only have the book, you have Ronan and Niall Quinn. They are the best mages of either court. If anyone can help us obtain the final two pieces of the bosca fadbh, it’s them.”

  Inwardly Aislinn let out a long, slow breath. She’d used the word us. That meant she was on board with working together.

  “That implies you think it’s possible.”

  The Summer Queen shook her head. “I don’t. Not really.” She raised an eyebrow. “Yet hope springs eternal. Is the faery tale of freedom the only reason you asked me here?”

  Aislinn lifted her chin. “And to take your measure.”

  The Summer Queen had a relaxed look on her face, but her eyes were keen. “The courts will always be at odds, Aislinn. Like the day and the night, there’s only a little common ground, a bit of twilight made from mingling light. Freedom for the inhabitants of Piefferburg, for our people, is our common ground, our twilight. Revenge against the Phaendir, on that much the courts can agree, yes? So while I may not be inviting you to tea very often, you can count on my assistance in any matter regarding the Book of Bindings or the pieces of the bosca fadbh.”

  “Would you have made the same offer to the Shadow King?”

  “When I banished Ronan Quinn from the Rose Tower, I did just that.” She stood and one of the guards gathered her train. “Is that all?”

  Aislinn also stood. “That’s all.”

  The Summer Queen inclined her head. “I bid you welcome to the twin throne of the fae. May your reign be peaceful and lengthy.”

  Aislinn also inclined her head, clutching the book to her chest. “Thank you.”

  With a rustle of brocade skirts, the Summer Queen was gone. After she’d left, Aislinn walked to the window and looked out over the inhabitants of the square. It was noon on a workday and fae hurried over the cobblestone area on their way to lunch or to run errands.

  The Summer Queen had been friendlier and more cooperative than Aislinn had imagined she would be and she hadn’t mentioned—not once—the fact that Aislinn had rejected the Rose in favor of the Black before she’d discovered her dubious biological parentage.

  But there’d been a look on her face and a note in her voice that Aislinn didn’t trust. The Summer Queen had said all the right words, but Aislinn had a niggling feeling that she didn’t like that the Shadow Royal—whoever that may be—was in possession of the Book of Bindings.

  Unless she was being paranoid, and she didn’t think she was, perhaps she needed to be wary not only of the Phaendir, but of the Summer Queen, too.

  AISLINN walked along the corridor late at night, unable to fall asleep. Sleeping had been a problem since her meeting with the Summer Queen, but Aislinn couldn’t put her finger on an exact reason. Most likely it was the result of the stress of her position—suddenly becoming a queen hadn’t been an easy transition to make.

  Or maybe it was because she missed Gabriel.

  She loved him. She had no doubt on that score. Silly, stupid woman that she was, she’d fallen head over heels for yet another man she couldn’t trust. Only this time the man had the potential not only to injure her heart—as Kendal had done—but to completely annihilate it. It was better that she distanced herself now, no matter how much it hurt. In the long run she was saving herself some blood loss.

  Yet she missed the scent of him and the rough brush of his unshaven chin along her skin. She missed the sound of his voice and the steadiness of his presence, the protection she always felt when he was near.

  But it was in Gabriel’s nature to seduce and bind women to him and then let them go without care for their hearts. Everyone expected him to go back to his old ways, as Melia had put it. No one would ever, ever expect a man like Gabriel to commit to one woman out of love. That he wanted—or seemed to want, anyway—to continue this relationship with her was suspect.

  Was he like Kendal? Only wanting to be with her because of what her station could do for him? By all accounts Gabriel had been close to the Shadow King, had been placed very highly in the Black Tower. Perhaps he didn’t want to lose that.

  Of course, Gabriel had contributed greatly to the Shadow King’s demise. He’d risked his life for her, done the right thing by fighting his royal. He could have turned on her, could have betrayed her. He could have stood by and done nothing while the Shadow King had stolen her soul . . . and he hadn’t.

  But how much of the reason he’d intervened could be attributed to guilt?

  No, she’d done the right thing.

  Even if it was breaking her heart to do it.

  She reached out and ran her fingertips along the smooth, cool black marble wall of the corridor she walked through. The oil of her finger pads left smudges; her fingerprints marking this place. A few weeks ago she never could’ve imagined walking through these halls as if she owned them, could never have imagined feeling contentment at the fact she now, in a way, claimed them as her own.

  Now that the Shadow King was gone, she felt very at home within these walls. There was a far greater sense of acceptance here, a sort of more open feeling about the building and the people in it. Oh, yes, one needed to watch one’s step. Monsters dwelt in this place. Red caps, joint-eaters, phookas, alps, and more. Dark magick abounded. Yet, oddly, it was more comfortable to her than the starched, shallow hallways of the Rose Tower.

  She finally felt like she belonged.

  The Book of Bindings was hidden away, secreted magickally by Ronan and Niall, who were both on her committee of advisers. Gabriel and his host were also on it. She might not trust Gabriel with her heart, but she trusted him with her politics and, ultimately, with her life.

  Gabriel was a good man. He simply wasn’t a man built for love. Not a man built for her.

  She stopped short in the middle of the hallway as the man in question appeared from the shadows at the end of the corridor. Somewhere in the distance, laughter boomed, chatter swelled and then fell away to silence. The Black Tower never slept. There were always fae up and roaming around even as late as this, though the late hours were quieter than the day-lit ones.

  Aislinn was momentarily arrested by the sight of him, long and lean, his body half hidden in shadow. They hadn’t spoken since she’d told him she didn’t want him romantically anymore. Every time they’d seen each other since then, they’d had others around them, and she’d been avoiding him otherwise.

  Avoiding exactly this situation.

  Suddenly she regretted leaving her room to take this walk. He walked toward her slowly and she fought the urge to flee. She wasn’t sure she could remain composed if he was angry at being rejected, and she didn’t want to hear what he might have to say to her.

  She swallowed hard as he approached. His handsome features were set as rigid as chiseled stone, his dark brows drawn up. His dark blue eyes weren’t cold and angry as she’d expected; they were hot and filled with confusion and pain. His long dark hair was unbound and shifted around his shoulders. He hadn’t shaved today and the too-long growth shadowed his face.

  Aislinn cleared her throat and set her hand flat against the wall of the corridor as if trying to draw strength from the building itself. “Gabriel—”

  “Aislinn, I love you.” The words came out angry, accusatory.

  Her breath stopped in her throat and shock stole through her. “What did you say?” she managed to push out in a whisper.

  “You heard me. I love you. I’ve loved you since the Rose Tower. I couldn’t let the Shadow King have you because by that point you were mine. Mine to protect. Mine to love. I should have told you sooner.”

  She glanced away, blinking away sudden tears. These were the last words she’d been expecting him to utter. Was this a game or did he really mean it? She shook her head. “Gabriel, I don’t know what to say to you.”


  He closed the distance between them, grasped her wrist, and dragged her up against his chest. “You say what you feel, Aislinn. You stare into my eyes and tell me how you feel. I dare you to look at me and tell me you don’t love me. Do it.”

  She raised her gaze to his and he held it firm, challenging her.

  “Do it.”

  She opened her mouth to lie, and then closed it, looking down.

  “I thought as much. Then say it, tell me you love me back. I know you do. I can feel it. Tell me.”

  Aislinn said nothing, did nothing. She couldn’t speak. All she could do was hang on while her world listed to the side like a ship about to sink.

  He made a frustrated sound and turned her face-first toward the wall. Her breasts, the part that spilled from the top of her gown, pushed up by a corset, pressed up against the cold marble. She gasped and closed her eyes. Overwhelmed by tumultuous emotion, tears slipped down her cheeks.

  He leaned in behind her. “Aislinn, don’t you think you can leave me. You’re mine. I know it and so do you. I love you and you love me, too.” His words shivered through her, spoken close to her ear. She was helpless against him, craving his touch and drowning in the words he spoke and in the possessive way he spoke them. “I need you.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  GABRIEL lifted her heavy skirts, up past the tops of her thigh-high stockings, and, pushing aside the panel of her panties, quested between her legs to find the evidence of her arousal. Making an appreciative sound in the back of his throat, she knew he found it.

  “Tell me to stop,” he growled into her ear. He pushed a finger deep inside her, then two, thrusting in and out. “If you don’t want me to fuck you right here, right now, tell me to stop.” His voice shook like he was groping for control and couldn’t find any.

  Her breath shuddered out of her as her body reacted to his touch and the sound of his voice, to the sensation of his fingers pushing in and out of her so slowly.