by S A Archer
Riley covered her hand with his. “First the blessing.”
She twisted free of his grasp. “You don’t need the blessing. I have someone else who can help me with the rescue. All I need from you is the location.”
Emotion strained his plea, “If I tell you, then what becomes of me? Of us? Have I not done all this to serve you? Look at the worshippers I have inspired. Think of what that could mean. How you could be a goddess to them. I can make them do anything! Lead them anywhere. Have them kneel before you. That’s what a druid does. Brings the faithful to the Sidhe deities. All you have to do is bless me and I will serve you willingly in all ways. Please, Kaitlin.”
“He lied to you, Kaitlin,” Lugh finally revealed himself from behind the stone. “He told you what you wanted to hear, to make you do what he wanted.”
“We’re having a private conversation.” The anger in Riley’s voice rose, laced with righteous indignation. Lugh swept back his hood and leveled a glare at the man until realization dawned upon him. “Sidhe.”
“And not a youngling easily swayed by vain promises.” Lugh swept his gaze over the man, considering his appearance and mannerisms. “You ask for a blessing, but you have been blessed before, haven’t you?”
Riley stumbled a step back. The truth, so bluntly revealed, unnerved him, proving Lugh’s guess.
“What Sidhe Touched you, Riley? Who was it that captivated you?” Lugh circled the man, intent on having his answers and willing to do more than intimidate to have them. As he moved behind Riley, Lugh cut a glance at Kaitlin. Her expression was uncertain, fearful. She’d no idea. Too innocent to fully comprehend the magnitude of the lies she’d been told. Too innocent to probably understand what Lugh was about to do now. They would have to discuss the matter at great length later, for what she was to witness she’d never experienced before. It was a trauma he had hoped to spare her.
“You are a druid then, in truth.” Lugh lied as easily as he flattered. “None but a true druid could conceive of the wisdom with which you spoke.” He towered over Riley, very close to him, so he could see little else but Lugh. If the human ventured to glance at Kaitlin, her expression might give away the ruse. “The one who blessed you has neglected you. I can see it. You deserve so much more than abandonment. ‘Tis a cruel thing, the longing for the Touch. The absence of the magic that once filled you with life and power, dwindling. Unreplenished.”
“Please…” Riley’s eyes glistened with the rise of tears.
“Kneel before me, Druid.”
Riley dropped to his knees, face upturned in reverence and despair.
Lugh cupped Riley’s cheeks between his gentle hands. As the magic of the Touch began to slowly course from him into the human, he asked, “Who was it, Riley?” The magic of the Touch was a mere trickle. The barest taste. The warmth from a narrow shaft of sunlight.
“The god of magic,” Riley whispered, the first fleeting hints of elation beginning to shatter the pain of his longing. “Manannan.”
Even as Lugh lightly stroked Riley’s cheeks with false affection, he cast a glimpse over at Kaitlin. She truly needed to concentrate more effort in schooling her expression, for her utter shock and confusion was undisguised. Although Lugh could not yet conceive of the reasoning, nor fully was prepared to take this human at his word, he revealed no outward sign. To do so was to give power to one’s enemies.
“And to what purpose? What did Manannan task you to do?” Lugh’s voice was kind. The magic of his Touch continued to flow softly. He could feel the yearning void within this man. The gaping hole left after a Sidhe Touched a human burned a path for the magic into their very soul. What followed was a feeling of horrid emptiness, causing them to forever crave the Touch. Lugh could fill the vessel, and again the magic would Fade as it always did in a captivated human. It was why some humans called it a curse, for no matter how glorious it felt when the magic flowed within them, there was always the pain of longing that would follow. Even now, granting Riley this relief, this ‘blessing,’ was only a temporary respite.
“To distract,” Riley admitted, tears streaming down his face.
As he leaned over Riley and kissed him on the forehead, Lugh unleashed his magic. He cradled Riley’s face to keep him from swooning. The intake of breath that escaped Riley’s lips was followed by an aching cry as the magic burst through him. The full glory of it, laced with Lugh’s sunlight, illuminated the man’s skin to glow with a soft golden hue. Riley clasped his hands over Lugh’s as if afraid he might release him. He shivered with the violence of pleasure, gasping quick breaths before crying out once more in a long, heart-wrenching outburst as the Touch filled him to his capacity to endure it.
Lugh straightened. His hands slipped from Riley’s face as the man slumped, trembling and weeping. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Lugh turned toward Kaitlin. Toward the horror on her face that he could see, despite her hand pressed over her mouth. How often had she been warned to never Touch a human? The magic of the Touch, so natural and sustaining to the Sidhe, a form of sharing and bonding that was as vital as sleep, was devastating to a human. The practice of ‘blessing’ humans, and creating the captivated class of humans once known as druids, ceased when the Sidhe forsook the surface to live solely in the Mounds ages ago. That Manannan had callously Touched this man was something Lugh would never have believed had he not heard the confession with his own ears. Even now, he was not fully prepared to believe it. But whatever dismay Kaitlin felt about what Manannan had done, that surely paled in comparison to witnessing Lugh perform the act.
Lugh offered Kaitlin his hand. “You shall not return to him. Not ever.”
She nodded, and he believed that she would obey him in this. She slipped her hand into his. They walked together away from Riley. Away from the humans who had taken notice of them, and who had no concept of what they had witnessed other than Riley kneel and Lugh kiss his forehead. Once they were behind one of the standing stones, Lugh teleported them back to the Mounds.
Chapter Nine
London reached for her gun as Rico stepped up onto the coffee table. The bodyguards reappeared beside her, one snatching each arm. London struggled uselessly against them. Rico dropped down to the floor before her. Nothing but calm confidence shone on his wicked handsome face. “This is not the way to work a deal.” She jerked against the restraining hands. Besides bruises she accomplished nothing else with the effort.
Rico touched her face. His palm caressed the curve of her jaw and immediately a jolt of pleasure shot through her. She jerked away from his hand. It didn’t matter. The magic was in her like a seductive venom, spreading a heated desire across her skin. Her panic spread faster. “Incubus? Lust demon? What are you?”
Rico didn’t seem the least deterred. As his hands pushed beneath her blazer, she knew she should squirm away or kick out at him. Instead she arched her back, lifting her breasts to brush against his hand. He did not fondle her body as she anticipated. Instead he merely lifted her gun from its holster. His hands brushed the small of her back, down her hips, and stroked around her ankles. With each incidental contact London gasped, but nothing he did now matched the initial touch.
Rico passed her gun to one of his men and they released her. London swayed; queasiness made the room tilt. She barely managed to stumble away a few steps. Even clutching to the back of the chair didn’t slow the room spins. “What did you do to me?”
“You want more, don’t you?” Those dark eyes, so cold and yet so seductive, seemed to see right into her.
“Yes,” she breathed. The magic from his brief touch had already faded inside her, but it left a yearning void in its wake. The more she tried to control the shakes, the more violently she shivered. The flash of pleasure had torn through her system like a power surge.
“What did the wizards want?”
&
nbsp; London stroked the lingering tingle on her cheek. It was hard to process everything with her teeth chattering and eyes watering. Her insides twisted. Reaching for… wanting… demanding… something.
The two bodyguards flanked Rico. “Tell me what I want and I’ll give you what you need.”
London glared. “What did you do? Poison? Spell?”
“I hired you. Now tell me what I want to know.”
Her gut clenched like she’d eaten some bad leftover Chinese food. Shaky legs gave way. The floor caught her but listed from side to side, riding the waves of whatever bad magic trip she was taking. If the nausea got any worse she was going to barf. “Fine. They wanted to find someone. Some Changeling called Deacon.”
“You delivered a Changeling into the hands of the wizards?” Rico snarled. All sensuality vanished. Nothing but pure fury remained.
“I didn’t ‘deliver’ him. I just arranged an introduction.” Her fingernails raked the carpet, wanting to do the same to Rico, knowing instinctively that he possessed what she needed inside him and wanting to rip it out of him. She growled, “I told you what you wanted to know. Now make this stop!” The aching need burned her muscles like lactic acid.
Rico gave a quick nod to his men. This time she didn’t recoil when they grabbed her arms.
The closer she came to Rico the heavier the air felt. Thick with magic. London trembled. She tilted her head up to gaze into those deep eyes. Body heat spread over her like oil. His hands settled at the small of her back and pulled her body against his. His easy strength supported her even when her legs couldn’t. The first brush of his lips against hers sent a tingle through her. The flick of his tongue made her lips part to inhale him.
The kiss was sensual. Slow and deep. London closed her eyes. Breathing him in, the magic cascaded into her once more. It tasted like rain. His power soaked into her, drenched her body in bliss. London circled her arms around his neck, drawing him deeper into the kiss.
More… She wanted more…
His hands slipped down to grip her bottom. She wrapped a leg around him and ground needfully against him. The magic drove into her core, intense with sexual pleasure. She shuddered as it spared no part of her being. The magic-induced orgasm exploded within her. Power spilled from Rico into her mouth, thick and rich. The scent of storm clouds filled her awareness. The kiss washed away everything. Everything but this moment, this fulfillment, this manifestation of perfect passion. She cried out into Rico’s mouth, but refused to let their lips part so it could escape.
Suddenly, the magic ceased. Just like the flick of a switch. London’s eyes snapped open.
“You work for me,” Rico informed her. “You work for no one else. You will tell me all you know, with no hesitation.”
His words wormed their way through her blind lust. “What?” London snatched her arms back, forcing her body to obey, to back away when she desired to clutch to him. “You kiss like a million bucks, but that don’t buy me.” The magic washed through her, glorious and cleansing. Her head swam as the lingering power overloaded her equilibrium. She fought the narcotic effect of the magic, feeling herself tripping.
One of the bodyguards shoved a card into her pocket.
“We require your help. You will give it to us. Willingly or otherwise.” Rico brushed his fingertips over her lips.
London froze, expecting the jolt of magic again, but nothing happened. Nothing except the heated craving that flooded through her. “What are you? What did you do to me?”
“Find out what treachery Deacon’s performing for the wizards.”
“Answer my question.”
“Call me when you have something.” With a nod to the others all three of them vanished, leaving London in devastated silence.
Chapter Ten
The minute Jhaer reappeared in the castle of the Unseelie Court, he knew the Changeling hadn’t been lying. He raced along the deserted corridors, shouting at the top of his lungs. “Where is she? Where is the queen?”
The chancellor rushed out of an antechamber, disheveled and frantic. He hooked Jhaer’s arm and propelled him along, unwilling to stop even to talk. “She’s gone. Danu demanded the queen come to the Seelie Court for the summit. The All-Mother compelled her to comply.”
“Compelled? So there is no pretense of neutrality anymore.” Jhaer jerked free of the chancellor. “Where are you going? We can’t allow this. The Courts can never be united.”
“She ordered me to impart that information to you. My obligation is fulfilled.” The chancellor snatched up a satchel from a hiding place shielded by Glamour. “Believe what you will, Jhaer. The Seelie will overrun us. The Unseelie are fleeing into the Sluagh lands.”
“That won’t save you.” Jhaer growled. “If the Seelie force the unification, no corner of the Mounds will be spared.”
Chapter Eleven
The barrier against teleportation prevented Lugh from bringing them directly to the castle. They instead reappeared in the fey town beyond the castle walls. In anticipation of the summit that was to take place, the fey of the town were busily strewing garland, ribbons and fairy lights as if preparing for the spring festival of Beltaine. Lugh never exhausted in his amazement of the artistry of the fey, gilding the already beautiful hamlet. Voices and music rose in celebration.
Except one voice.
Kaitlin’s choked sob came sooner than he’d anticipated. He’d expected her shock to last a while longer, but perhaps being home made it safe to crumble. Lugh gathered her into his embrace and she clung to him. Gently, he stroked her back, hoping to soothe her. He murmured soft reassurances, to which she shook her head in denial. So very young. So painfully innocent.
Lugh slipped his hand up under the back of her shirt, seeking skin contact. His palm curled against the delicate curve at the small of her back. As he held her, gently rocking, he allowed the Touch to flow once again.
The feel of it was utterly different this time. Her magic accepted his, as it merged with her body. Natural. Beautiful. Restoring. As he loved his people, individually and as a race, he loved Kaitlin. The power of his love flowed with his magic. Flowed into her pain. He gave her more than the comfort and rejuvenation of his magic, he gave her the strength of his faith. Of his belief that she was strong enough to endure, to overcome, to grow. Idealism must bend to the winds of realism, lest the spirit might break.
Having heard his thoughts through the Touch, she smacked lightly at his shoulder. “You are a poet, Lugh.” Kaitlin pushed back enough to gaze up at him, tears still streaking her fair face. “How can you be a warrior, too?”
“I’m just that talented,” he teased and she rewarded him with a laugh.
“Egomaniac is what you are.” It was a familiar game between them, and it was good to see her play at it now. She scrubbed at her face with the sleeves of her sweater. As they returned to the castle they held hands. She Touched him back for a while, and it was just a light Touch. Sharing magic and comfort, without revealing her thoughts or the deep current of emotions he knew must be churning within.
The dwarves manning the outer gatehouse opened the wooden door for them and closed it behind them. Fey warriors lined the inner courtyard wall, and they watched the pair of them cross to the castle. The castle was locked down, ready to defend against attack. The tension was a weight of anticipation.
Lugh spotted an elf on the tower balcony, the very same elf who’d given Kaitlin the message that propelled her on this mission of distraction. He ducked back into the castle, and Lugh suspected whom he meant to warn. As they crossed the threshold Manannan descended the grand staircase. Danu herself, the All-Mother of the Sidhe, watched from the second floor walkway, her hands resting on the railing.
As soon as she saw Manannan, Kaitlin fled toward the family wing of the castle. Lugh had half expected her to co
nfront Manannan, but surely it would come eventually. Manannan watched her depart before joining Lugh.
“She knows about Riley. That you used him to distract her.” Lugh’s tone was intentionally neutral to disguise any inference as to his opinion regarding the facts he’d stated.
Manannan didn’t bother to deny, merely nodded. “A small ploy, but effective.” Manannan put his arm around Lugh’s shoulder drawing him away from the staircase. “The Unseelie king and queen have come. They have yielded. We are to have the unified court!”
Lugh halted, “You jest!”
“No, my friend.” Manannan gripped Lugh by the upper arms and shook him with excitement. “The day we’ve long fought for has come. The preparations are underway. Danu will perform the ritual for the Unseelie to submit their magic.”
“I fought for peace, not for unification of the courts,” Lugh clarified. “I cannot believe any Unseelie, much less their monarchs, are submitting willingly. This is something I must see.” He twisted to head toward the stairwell leading to the throne room above where such a ritual would be performed, but Manannan held him fast.
“Unification will bring a final and lasting peace. One people. One court.” Manannan smiled more joyously than Lugh could ever recall seeing before. “But the magic of the ritual is delicate. I anticipated this success, and made what preparations I could. Distracting Kaitlin was but one small part, the least of the plans I set into action. Other distractions were placed into motion as well. I need you to make sure that if those distractions fail, as Kaitlin’s did, that the enemies of unification do not succeed in destroying the peace process. We have good warriors on the courtyard walls, but none that could hold back the Unseelie Elite. I had them prepare your armor.” Manannan looked over the human clothing Lugh wore. He mused, “Unless you think this costume more appropriate.”
