Tressa's Treasures (The King's Jewel Book 1)

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Tressa's Treasures (The King's Jewel Book 1) Page 15

by Gordon, Belinda M


  He was mending nicely, but sleep was an important part of the healing process. I insisted he rest for a while. Not that he argued overly much; the effort of being social had worn him out. His eyes were closing before I left the room.

  "Those cousins of yours are something else," he said sleepily.

  "You could say that," I agreed. I smiled as I thought about my adorable cousins. As much as I loved them, I knew the devastation they could bring to tenderhearted young men.

  "They're good fun, Mattie, but don't get too involved with them."

  "No, of course not. I wouldn't do that to Holly."

  I didn’t know if he realized he had spoken aloud; he was asleep with his next breath. His words made me sad. I knew they reflected his true feelings, and Holly wasn't his to think of in that way. I loved Holly, but I didn't think Matt should pine away for her.

  I found Alexander in the dining room. I was starting to tell him my thoughts when the door burst open and Sophia ran in, letting the door bang shut behind her.

  "Daddy, Tressa, guess what!" She ran to where her father sat at the dining room table he used as his desk and bounded into his lap.

  "I give up," he said. "What?"

  "There are three more Pixies down at the lake, and two of them are boys!" She spoke the last word as if nothing could be more astonishing.

  "Oh sure, and that would be the twins' Pixies."

  I picked an apple out of a bowl on the table and took a bite before I realized that they were both staring at me. "Surely I've told you before that most Sidhe have a Pixie bound to them? And vice versa."

  By their vacant expressions, it was obvious that I hadn't.

  "Brenna is your Pixie," Alexander remarked—more of a statement than a question.

  "I want a Pixie!" Sophia exclaimed.

  "I'm sorry, honey, it doesn't work that way. It's not like a Pixie is a doll or a toy," I did my best to explain in terms she would understand. "Brenna is mine and I am hers. Family, experience, and time bind us together. It's kind of like having a best friend who moves around with you wherever you go, and who always looks out for you and you always look out for them."

  Sophia nodded her head solemnly. "Sort of like Uncle Matt." Taken off guard, Alexander let a coughing laugh escape before he managed to suppress his amusement.

  "Aye, very much like that," I agreed.

  "So who do Kerry and Megan belong too?"

  "They belong to Miss Órlaith."

  "She gets two?" the child's eyes grew wide.

  "Sure, and sometimes it happens that way when you live a very long time like Miss Órlaith has."

  "But what about Shamus? Doesn't he have a Pixie?"

  "Shamus is a Brounie, not a Sidhe. Haven’t you noticed that he looks different than Miss Órlaith and me?"

  "Yeah, but that's not fair." Her expression grew indignant for Shamus, of whom she was obviously quite fond. Then her eyes went wild with excitement. She jumped down from her father's lap. "I know! I can be his Pixie."

  "Well, you are small and you do follow him around," I mused.

  "Let's go tell him! Daddy, can I go tell him?" She evidently sensed that he was about to say no, because she put both of her little hands over her heart and pleaded. "Please, Daddy? Pleeeease?"

  Alexander shook his head. "There will be plenty of time for that tomorrow. How about you help me get dinner started?"

  After dinner, Alexander helped me with the dishes. I washed while he dried. It was the first time we had been alone together all day.

  I could hear Sophia upstairs, pretending to read a book to Matt. I had read the same book to her so often she had it memorized.

  I rinsed a plate and handed it to Alexander. He leaned against the countertop as he dried it.

  "It sounds like it's been a while since you've seen your brother," he commented.

  "I haven’t seen him since before my parents’ death."

  "Didn't he come to the funeral?"

  "He was with them when they had their accident. He sent word about what happened and said that he couldn't bear to come home for their Sendoff."

  Alexander put the plate in the cupboard and took the next one I held out to him. His expression showed disapproval. I had been angry myself at the time, but I still felt compelled to defend him.

  "He was just too grief-stricken, you see."

  "So he left you to handle things alone?"

  "Oh, I wasn't alone. Not really. My grandparents and all my aunts and uncles were there."

  Alexander thought quietly while we finished the last two dinner plates.

  "What's the deal with that nickname he and Connor were calling you?"

  I sighed heavily; I had known it would come up.

  "Jewels," I said flatly. "It's just a childhood thing."

  "Why does he still call you that when you so obviously dislike it? You can barely stand to repeat it to me."

  He examined me with those dark chocolate eyes, as if he knew that the story ran deeper. I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. I put a handful of freshly rinsed flatware into the drying rack.

  "I just think he should treat you better, that's all," he said.

  He dried the utensils, putting each one in the drawer as he finished it while I began scrubbing the pan.

  "I don't care about that. I'm just sorry they were so rude to you. To be honest, Gil will always do the thing that annoys me most, but it's not like Connor to be so rude," I said.

  His laugh startled me.

  "What's so funny?" I asked as I placed a pot on the drying rack. I drained the water in the sink and reached for a towel to dry my hands.

  "That's a no-brainer. Jealousy will make anyone into a jerk." He dried the pot and put it away. "That reminds me: we're Handfast, are we?"

  I had forgotten about that too. I blushed. "I had to make them take our relationship seriously. Otherwise, you would be potential fodder for all their shenanigans. It's like saying we're betrothed."

  "I know what it means."

  "Do you mind terribly?" I looked away, anxious to avoid his gaze.

  He gently peeled the towel out of my hands and tossed it onto the counter. He drew me to him.

  "Tressa, don't you know by now that I have no intention of ever leaving your side? You can call me whatever you like, as long as I get to stay here with you." He kissed me: a long thorough kiss.

  I woke up in the middle of the night, guilt making sleep impossible. I couldn't rationalize keeping secrets any longer. Alexander deserved to know the entire truth about me. I promised myself that I would tell him everything first thing in the morning.

  "What's wrong? Why aren't you sleeping?" A pillow muffled Alexander's throaty voice. He always knew when I awoke.

  "Xander, there are some things I need to tell you."

  I sat up and hugged my legs to my chest. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, rearranging his pillow so he could lean back against the headboard. Once settled, he looked at me expectantly.

  "First, I'll need to give you some Sidhe history."

  "You woke me to give me a lesson on the fae?" he asked, incredulous.

  "No," I said ardently. "This is about me. About us."

  Here it was: the point where I had to confess to this man that I was a complete disappointment to my people, and to make matters worse, the Unseelie hunted me anyway. I fought to contain my emotions, but I failed. I choked down a gasp of pain as they burst through my chest.

  "No, sweetheart. Please don't cry." He wiped tears aside that I hadn't realized were there. He sat further up and pulled me to his chest, wrapping his arms around me in a tight embrace. "It can't be that bad. Just tell me and get it over with."

  "Okay." I took a deep, fortifying breath. "Before our angel ancestors parted from us, they gave their children four gifts: the Lia Fail, the Cauldron of Rebirth, the Spear of Lugh, and the Sword of Nuada. Over time, we came to take the gifts for granted and they eventually were lost.

  "The Archangel Michael became incensed when he disc
overed our ingratitude. He vowed that none of the fae would be admitted into heaven until all four of the gifts were found, and each was safely restored to their rightful steward and used with proper esteem.

  "Before our expulsion from heaven, one or another of the gifts would surface now and again. However, never had two been located at the same time. Since then, the Sidhe have searched for centuries without finding any of the gifts. There is a prophecy about how these gifts will be found."

  "And this involves us, somehow?" Alexander interrupted.

  "Aye, I'll explain, but let me finish the story."

  He nodded.

  "The Dominion Zadkiel, the patron angel of forgiveness, took pity on the Sidhe and sent a prophecy to give us hope. It spoke of how our exile would eventually end. The prophecy goes like this:

  Look to The King's Jewel,

  The fifth treasure of her people,

  A youngest child of the youngest child-

  Mother of the rebirth of the Sidhe,

  Nuada's strength and fidelity will be her ally.

  A new beginning shall come

  When the four treasures come home.

  Oh lost child, oh blessed child,

  Open the gates of Annwn

  And bring your people back into the light."

  I stopped there, wishing I didn't need to continue. He stroked my hair; pulling the curls flat and then letting them spring back as he always did.

  "So this King's Jewel is supposed to be the savior for the Sidhe?" he asked.

  "We are told by our Wise Men that the King's Jewel will be the mother of the one destined to bring together and hold the four gifts, or treasures as we call them."

  "This is all very interesting, but what does it have to do with us?"

  "Xander, I am a King's Jewel."

  His hand froze while holding a lock of my hair outstretched. After a couple of heartbeats, he released the strand.

  "What does that mean?" he asked.

  "The King's Jewel is the nickname given to the youngest child of the king's youngest child. My father was my grandparents' youngest, and I am the youngest of my parent's children. I am also the first female King's Jewel in three generations.

  "My people have watched me all my life. First with anticipation; they were sure that I would fulfill the prophecy. My grandfather and my uncle tried to pair me off with every eligible man they thought would be an appropriate match."

  "And Connor was one of them?"

  "Aye, one of the first, since his family is close to mine."

  "I can see how he would be a good match for you. He's one of you. Good looking. Not damaged in any way."

  I snorted.

  "That good looking man was only interested in the position he’d gain by marrying me. A Sidhe woman can only bear children with her Anam Cara—you would say her soul mate. If not for this, I might have been forced to marry him.

  "What's this about being damaged, by the way?" I asked indignantly.

  "Well, he certainly appears to be unscarred."

  "Beautiful doesn't mean perfect," I admonished him.

  "So what happened? How is it now between you and your people?" he said, getting me back on track.

  "I admit that I took my privileged life for granted. But, as I got older and still hadn't mated, people's attitudes began to change. You see, the Sidhe are not a very fertile race. I am old by fae standards for having a child, akin to a forty-year-old human woman. I began to see disappointment whenever they looked at me. I had let them down, and they began to show it more and more.

  "I'm pleased to live my life outside the public eye now. Unfortunately, even though most of my own people no longer believe that I am the King's Jewel of the prophecy, the Unseelie are still looking for me. I still can't live my life in peace. And now, judging from what they said earlier, I can be easily found."

  He pulled me tighter against him.

  "But why would they still be looking for you?"

  "While the Seelie Court lives their lives with the hope of one day entering Heaven in a state of grace, the Unseelie Court seeks to possess the gifts. They would exploit their power to conquer and rule.

  "The last two female King's Jewels were kidnapped by the Unseelie Court and burned alive. Deaglan Mór, their current leader, swore on the day of my birth that he would do the same to me."

  Understanding filled Alexander's expression.

  "So this is where your pyrophobia comes from," he said.

  "When we were children, Gil grew tired of me getting all the attention. He teased me with stories of how my predecessors died and how the same would happen to me."

  A snarl reverberated in Alexander's chest.

  "How can I get information on the Unseelie? I need to learn what weapons they use, their tactics, anything I can use against them."

  I moved away from his side so I could get a better view of his face.

  "You want to learn how to fight them?" I asked.

  "What did you expect me to do, run away?"

  I didn't open the store the next day; I had promised to spend the day with my cousins. However, I soon realized I needn't have rearranged my schedule. None of the guests at the Manor House got up from their beds until almost dinnertime. How had I forgotten what creatures of nightlife they were?

  Instead, I spent the entire day fretting over my two big problems: how to help Holly and how to protect my anonymity at Pine Ridge. When I made my way to the Manor House for dinner, I hadn't resolved either one.

  I could hear Rosheen and Keelin shouting at each other from halfway up the path. They were arguing over who owned a particular dress they both wanted to wear. Keelin won, if only by virtue of getting the garment on her body first.

  When Shamus opened the door, Keelin descended the staircase in triumph, wearing a short, pale blue silk Cheongsam with yellow embroidery. Rosheen, still arguing, followed behind her.

  "Shamus," I said, with an eye on my cousins. "I think Sophia should eat with you and JJ tonight."

  Sophia skipped off toward the kitchen, delighted to escape the formal meal.

  We took our seats at the table and exchanged greetings with everyone.

  "Where's Gil?" I asked.

  "He went out earlier," Keelin said. "He said to text him so he can meet us wherever we end up tonight."

  Keelin's bubbly demeanor was in stark contrast to the identical yet sulking figure next to her.

  "Keelin, how lovely you look in that dress," Connor said, fanning the girls' argument. "Don't you agree, Xander?"

  Rosheen and I both glared at Connor. He knew that Alexander wouldn't have heard the twins arguing from outside. I didn't appreciate his attempt to walk Alexander into a trap.

  "All the women look wonderful," Alexander said.

  "Rosheen, I love your outfit. Is it your design?" I asked, trying to defuse Connor's teasing.

  She brightened.

  "No, but I have a new one upstairs I could wear."

  "I would love to see it," I said.

  Her temper now dispersed, Rosheen turned her attention to Matt. He was back to his old self—none of the bruising, swelling or the sling from the day before. He had even replaced his broken glasses. She beamed at him.

  "Well you turned out to be a cutie. Why don't you come out with us tonight?"

  "Oh aye," Keelin joined in, argument forgotten. "It’ll be fun."

  Between the two of them, the twins cajoled Matt into joining us on our outing. They tried to do the same with Alexander but with less success. Alexander bowed out of the evening, citing Sophia and unfinished work as his reasons for staying home.

  He kissed me before he gathered Sophia from the kitchen and headed home. Then Mamó retired to her room, saying goodnight just after Alexander left.

  Rosheen ran upstairs to change, keeping the rest of us waiting for an hour before she came back down.

  We rolled past JR's without going in; the twins pronounced it too small-town for their liking. I hadn't expected JR's to suit their need
s, and I was happy to keep their frivolity away from my neighbors, even though leaving town would make it harder to get home at a reasonable hour. We drove on to Scranton in pursuit of a better place to party.

  We arrived at a club the twins said Gilleagán had suggested. He stood at the entrance, waiting for us. He held my gaze as he lit a cigarette. I jerked when he flicked open his lighter, which was exactly what he had wanted. He smirked, pleased with himself.

  Inside, the club was dark and gritty. Multicolored lasers shot through the darkness to the beat of music, which blared from all directions. Gilleagán led us around the crowded dance floor to a circular booth near the bar.

  A server arrived as the six of us settled into the brown leather cushions.

  "Shots all around," Gilleagán shouted into the server's ear, twirling his index finger to indicate the whole group.

  I refused a second shot, and Matt switched to a cola for the third round.

  "I'd better designate myself as the driver," he said.

  After the others downed their third shot, we got up to dance. The music had a wonderful beat, although it drowned out the melody. I always enjoy the sensation of moving my body in rhythm with the music. The Sidhe are generally ardent dancers, and this time I wasn't the exception to the rule.

  The crowd eventually jostled us apart, and I soon lost track of everyone. Looking around, I saw Matt dancing with the twins and enjoying their attention. Off in a corner, Gilleagán was huddled with a blonde woman—probably propositioning her.

  The separation from my friends took some joy out of the dancing. The front of my head ached from the flashing lasers and the too-loud music. It seemed like a good time to go back to the booth.

  I tried to step in that direction, but a wall of dancers made the way impassable. I turned, thinking to take a more circuitous route. Suddenly I had the odd sensation that people were closing in on me. The crowd condensed, blocking every direction.

  My headache increased as my blood pressure rose. The pain interfered with my vision. I became more aggressive, not concerned with being polite anymore as I tried to push my way clear. I was trapped, and couldn't get free. I scanned the faces around me looking without success for someone I knew.

  The lasers pulsated: red, orange and yellow lights illuminating the room with a blazing glow. The music screamed. My breathing became short and rapid; I thought I would hyperventilate. I pushed again, harder, but I still couldn't get out.

 

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