As she and Deaglan took their places at the table, waiters were already making their way through the room with trays of drinks and salads. Bannon thought everyone looked relaxed and happy. She wasn’t picking up any negative vibes at the moment.
Letting herself relax a little, Bannon studied the crowd, noticing several guests from the hotel mixed in with the locals and terrenes. Most of her guests had disguised themselves in human form, but she could still recognize them by their magical auras. Even though the terrene population was coming to terms with the magical realm, most paranormals preferred to keep a low key and blend in. Too many centuries of being hunted and persecuted kept them from ever fully trusting mortals.
“Everything seems quiet so far,” Deaglan whispered in her ear. “I found a picture of Geoffrey Goodbloode, and it was definitely him at the festival.”
“Do you think he was behind the broom incident too?” Bannon asked in a low voice, glancing around to see if anyone was listening.
Deaglan took a sip of wine, using the movement to study the crowd again. “Yes, I do. It was either him or his wife. When Eastsage lost the council’s blessing to host terrenes, it was transferred to Blansett.”
“Oh,” Bannon breathed, suddenly understanding the motive. “Eastsage must have lost a lot of revenue, not to mention an easy supply of food for the vampires.”
“Exactly,” Deaglan said. He leaned aside so a waiter could reach between him and Bannon to remove their empty salad plates. When the waiter was out of earshot, he whispered, “If they are going to pull any tricks, it should be soon. I’ll try to diffuse the spell when I know what they have planned.”
Bannon nodded her understanding and watched a new round of servers bring in heaping plates of spaghetti and platters of garlic bread. When the last plate was served and the bread placed on every table, the fire alarm began to ring. Everyone sat frozen for a moment then jumped up from their seats.
Deaglan stood and raised both hands, shouting to be heard over the noise. “Please remain seated everyone. There is no fire. The alarms are malfunctioning.”
Bannon shot a silence spell at the clanging alarms, and immediately the room fell quiet. She hoped they were doing the right thing and a fire wasn’t burning somewhere in the building. Scattered throughout the room, wearing their fire department tees, local firefighters with the night off left their meals untouched, rushing to check out the premises.
The crowd looked uncertain, but several people sat back down and began to eat. Soon the rest of the diners followed. Deaglan kissed Bannon on the temple. “I’ll be right back. Finish your meal.”
“No, I’m going with you,” Bannon insisted and took his hand. They went out into the hall, and when they passed the street exits with double glass doors, Bannon heard the locks being thrown. “They’re locking us in,” she said, unable to keep the panic from her voice.
Immediately, a bright flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed by the rumble of thunder and a deluge of rain. Deaglan frowned. “No, I think their intention was to lock us out.”
He held up both hands and began to chant in a language Bannon wasn’t familiar with. The sky grew calm, and the rain stopped falling. Bannon took a moment to enjoy watching him. Just as Deaglan dropped his hands, a couple of the off-duty firemen came down the hall, and he stopped them.
“Did you find any hot spots?”
The younger fireman shook his head. “No, we even checked out the alarm systems grid. Looks like someone pulled the alarm, but nothing shows in the security video.” He shrugged. “Musta been a short in the system somewhere.”
Deaglan nodded. “Thanks. Go back and enjoy your dinner.”
The two firefighters lost no time in heading back to the dining area. When they were gone, Deaglan narrowed his eyes and looked outside. “The question now is, will they try to disrupt things again tonight?”
Bannon looked out over the town, seeing the bright glow of lights from the festival. “It depends, I guess. Doesn’t seem like much effort went into tonight.”
Deaglan smiled. “No, don’t pass it off too easily. Imagine, several hundred people outside and a lightning storm. Not only would that affect the diners, it would shut the festival down and drench the crowds. My guess would be that high winds would have followed the storm, wreaking even more havoc. The plan is so simple it’s brilliant when you think about it.”
“He, or she, is keeping it so low key it doesn’t seem like much, but when you put it all together, the damage and disruption is extensive.” Bannon said. “And I bet we start seeing vacation advertisements for Eastsage pop up everywhere soon.”
Deaglan nodded. “Let’s go pay a visit to Mr. and Mrs. Goodbloode.”
“We’re going to Eastsage?” Bannon asked, remembering the drive to the civic center. She wasn’t certain she could stand two hours of supersonic speeding.
“No. They have a short-term rental on Maplethorpe Ridge.”
Thank the goddess, Bannon thought. Before she could say anything, Deaglan ushered her out the double glass doors and into the parking lot. She wondered if she could offer to drive, but he was already opening the passenger door for her and she slipped inside wordlessly, grateful it would be a short ride.
* * * *
“They’ve gone?” Bannon asked, looking around at the empty house. “Why would they leave now?”
When she and Deaglan arrived at the house, the door was standing open and all the lights were on. They could see through the windows that the furniture was gone, and a trace of magic still shimmered in the air from recent activity.
Deaglan shut his eyes, concentrating on the empty room. Turning in a full circle, he kept his eyes closed and his palms outward at his side. When he opened his eyes, he gave Bannon a warning look. “Not gone,” he mouthed.
She felt a shiver of apprehension run down her spine. They had to be hiding somewhere close by for Deaglan to pick up on them. She didn’t know what to expect from the couple, but she’d heard bad things about them. They both practiced the dark arts without any restraint, and it was well known in the paranormal community that Geoffrey Goodbloode considered humans a lesser species, good only for his cruel entertainment or as a food source.
“Is this how you want to play the game, vampire?” Deaglan taunted. “Hide and seek? We Tuatha Dé Danann are good at it.” He waited for a response. “I don’t think the court will be happy with your actions, and Prince Cian is here for the festivities this year. Let’s hope he wasn’t involved in any of your little pranks.”
Bannon felt a slight ripple in the air. It was the first time she realized just how important Prince Cian really was in the Seelie Court. The mention of his name had disturbed the vampire enough that he’d broken concentration of his glamour.
She saw Deaglan’s lips curl at the corners. “No one has been hurt up to this point. I’m sure we can talk this out and laugh about the whole incident if you come out now.”
“Do you take us for fools?” The vampire’s frosty voice shimmered through the room. “We’ve done nothing wrong, and you have no proof.”
“Except that I saw you at the festival the night you dunked Firenze Goldenmere into the tank and tried to drown a few humans in the process.”
“Bah,” the vampire spit out. “I paid money to extinguish the old dragon’s fire. I did nothing wrong.”
“You deliberately destroyed the pool so the humans would get swept away by the water.”
“It merely knocked their footing out from under the clumsy fools. Hardly anything the Seelie Court would be interested in.”
“True,” Deaglan answered, “but combined with the greased brooms, attack of bees, and tonight’s lightning storm and it certainly looks like a deliberate attack on humans and the town of Blansett. The court prohibited you from harming humans in any fashion.”
Celia Goodbloode shimmered into view and stood with her back pressed against the wall, eyeing them warily. “My husband had nothing to do with these pranks. This was my doin
g, and if Helena-Marie feels like I’ve threatened her precious little town, then she should come to me herself.”
“The mayor has her hands full with important matters,” Deaglan answered. “She asked me to take care of this minor irritation.”
Bannon watched the dark witch stiffen with anger at the slight. Her blood-red lips thinned into a snarl, and she clenched her hands as if trying to contain the magic she wanted to throw at them. “I can show her my true power if she wishes.”
“Don’t let them trap you, love,” Geoffrey warned, flashing into sight beside his wife.
Bannon avoided looking directly into his eyes. She didn’t know if his power held sway over her, but she wasn’t going to find out. She felt their menace in the room like an overpowering scent. Bannon almost expected the air to turn toxic green with their malice.
“Why have you gone to all this trouble?” Deaglan asked. “You know how serious it is to go against the Seelie Court.”
“Because Blansett doesn’t deserve all the tourists and the perks that go with them,” Celia hissed. “We had it all until that sniveling Helena-Marie complained we were harming her human pets.”
“I’m sure Helena-Marie didn’t call them her pets.” Bannon spoke up for the first time. “She doesn’t think of terrenes that way.”
Celia looked her up and down, head to toe, uttering a derisive laugh. “Of course not, little witch. She’s convinced the humans are equals in their own rights. It’s ridiculous. They are nothing more than food and entertainment.”
Geoffrey must have heard the cymbals and discordant music that signaled the arrival of the court before anyone else. He flashed into bat form to flee just as the ruling members of the Seelie Court settled into the room, blocking everyone from escaping.
With a sweep of his arm, one of the highborn elves knocked Geoffrey to the floor. The vampire flapped helplessly on his back until he returned to human form, snarling and showing his fangs.
The court, an odd mixture of Seelie in every shape and size, established their rightful places throughout the room, waiting for the oncoming judgment to be announced.
“You have admitted your duplicity in attempting to harm humans and destroy the town of Blansett. While no terrenes were seriously injured, you both have committed treason against the court and must be punished accordingly,” Prince Cian said. “You will be banished from the council and unable to live in human territories for the next 125 years, by order of the Seelie Queen.”
Celia smirked at him, producing a small silver bell from her pocket. Holding it up for the room to see, she rang the bell. The notes were hauntingly clear and ethereal, causing a silence to fall over the room as the last note of the bell died away.
Deaglan reached over for Bannon, pulling her protectively into his side. A sizzle of electricity shot through the air, and the Unseelie Court arrived, bringing the stench of brimstone along with it. When they settled, the antagonistic atmosphere in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.
“State your business,” Prince Cian said aloud. “The court has made its judgment.”
“As you said, no terrenes were harmed. Therefore, the punishment is too severe,” a wizened little troll of a woman spoke, addressing the room. “The Unseelie Court does not acknowledge the Goodbloodes’ actions as treason.”
Bannon’s heart threatened to break out of her chest. Trying to draw a breath felt like sucking air through a straw. The amount of power radiating through the room felt nearly crushing, and she was afraid.
A beautiful woman with white robes and long flowing black hair stepped forward. The tips of her pointed ears were the only hint she wasn’t human. When she spoke, her voice flowed like a wooded stream, softly lilting and musical, casting a hypnotic effect over the audience.
Bannon realized with awe she was looking at the Seelie and Unseelie Queens. The two women faced each other, both speaking in their native tongues. After a heated debate, the women inclined their heads toward one another and returned to their courts, nearly disappearing in the crush of bodies surrounding them.
Prince Cian stepped forward again. “While the Seelie Court stands by its original judgment, the Unseelie Queen has begged for leniency on the grounds no terrenes were grievously harmed. The Seelie Queen graciously gives custody of Celia and Geoffrey Goodbloode to the Unseelie Court with the knowledge their presence in the terrene realm will be just cause for immediate execution.”
As his words died away, the room filled with sparkling lights resembling the small fireworks loved by children everywhere. In a shower of sparkles, the room cleared, and Bannon blinked a couple of times, wondering if she had hallucinated it all.
“That went much better than I expected,” Deaglan said, wrapping his arms around Bannon and pulling her close.
Chapter 9
St. Patrick’s Day
The town of Blansett had turned green in honor of St. Patrick’s Day. Excitement filled the air and the streets were once again alive with tourists enjoying themselves and spending their money.
Bannon’s parents insisted on watching the inn for her, leaving her free to spend the whole day with Deaglan. He’d made quite an impression on her folks, and they were making sure the couple had every opportunity to spend time together.
“We can stop in at Hooligans,” Bannon said as the last of the parade passed them by. “A band I enjoy will be playing. Have you ever heard of Celtic Knights? Alex Whitlock is the brother of a friend of mine.”
Deaglan raised one eyebrow and took a sip of green beer. “You didn’t have a crush on him, did you?”
Bannon giggled and felt her face flushing hot pink. As a matter of fact, she’d had a terrible crush on Alex Whitlock when they were in junior high. “I outgrew it quickly,” she said. “I bet you had a few adolescent crushes yourself.”
“Me? Nah, I was the crush factor.” Deaglan bragged, one of his dimples showing as he tried to suppress a grin.
“You’re so full of blarney.” Bannon laughed. “I bet you were a nerd in high school.” She thought nothing of the sort, but she had to take the man’s ego down a couple of notches.
“Ack, you’re wounding my heart, lassie,” Deaglan answered, putting on his thickest fake accent. “I suppose we can go watch this band, but when you start getting all moon-eyed over Alex Whitlock, we’re outta there.”
Bannon laughed so hard she sloshed beer out of her cup, which wasn’t too hard considering all the beer they had drank through the day. “Deaglan O’Brien, I think you’re jealous.”
“You’re damn skippy I’m jealous.” Deaglan looked around him. “I’ve got the prettiest girl in all of Blansett, and I’m not letting her go.”
“Don’t worry. You couldn’t pry me away from you,” she answered and immediately shut her mouth. Uh-oh, too many beers. She was saying whatever was on her mind now. “I meant…”
Deaglan leaned down, planting a kiss on her lips. “Shhh, don’t say a thing. I’m okay with you being stuck to me, Bannon.”
She looked up at him feeling her heart dance a happy little Irish jig. “Did you really mean it when you said you’re going to stay in Blansett?”
“Well, you can’t very well run your inn from Dublin, and I can’t very well live in Ireland while my heart’s here in Blansett.”
Bannon shoved her beer at the nearest person standing next to her and flung herself into Deaglan’s arms.
“I love you.”
“I love you more,” he answered.
The End
Princess o’the Green
Devin Govaere
Chapter 1
5:00 A.M. Wednesday, March 8
Tap-tap-tap.
Tabby Whitlock groaned into her pillow and snuggled it closer.
Tap-tap-tap.
Faint, far away. It sounded like a small hammer striking an object, but it was muffled.
Tap-tap-tap. Louder this time.
“Oh come on!”
She rolled to her back and flung out her arm, sl
apping her bedside table and knocking several objects to the floor. When she lifted her iPhone, the bright light nearly blinded her in the gloom of her room. She squinted at the display.
“Ugh,” she muttered. “What are those morons doing at five in the morning?”
She tossed the blanket off and scurried across the chilly wooden floor, tugging her sleep shirt down and then scrubbing her hands over her arms. As usual, her dad had turned the heat down. The man knew how to pinch his pennies—“More money for me!” he always said, rubbing his hands with glee. The day he found a Tabbysicle lying frozen in her bed was the day he’d be sorry.
She yanked open the door, prepared to give her stupid brothers a piece of her mind.
“What are you two—”
The hallway was empty. Quiet and dark. And then a light spilled from under the door to her parents’ room. When the door opened a crack, Tabby’s mother, Emily, peeked into the hallway and then pulled the door wider and stepped into the hall. She pulled her robe around her tighter and shivered.
“Why is it so cold? Honey, what are you doing?”
Tabby blew out a breath and glanced up and down the hall. “I’m not sure. I thought I heard something.”
A frown shadowed Emily’s pretty face as she walked toward Tabby. She brushed her hands through short auburn layers, very much like Tabby’s own. “Like what? Should I get your father?”
“I don’t think so. Maybe it was the old furnace trying to kick on.” Tabby shivered.
“We can only hope,” Emily said. “Go back to bed, Tab, before you freeze to death. I’ll have a talk with Dad in the morning. Keeping the pot full is one thing. Keeping it below fifty in here is ridiculous. Spring is still a few weeks away.”
Mystic Luck (Mystic Tides Book 2) Page 4
