My Faire Lord: A Renaissance Flair - Book 1

by C. A. Storm

  “Oh, hell no!” Allie exclaimed with a laugh. “I’m already on my third cup. Some of these crazy people have been here since five in the morning!” She gave Sam a wink. “And there’s money to be made when the closest Starbucks is over a half-hour away.”

  “Shew,” Sam grinned, “Okay then, so what do you have now?”

  With a grandiose wave, Allie indicated the set-up behind her. “We have a full range of different coffees and teas, as well as various natural syrups, different milks, sweeteners, and all that.” She pointed to a blackboard she had set up just beneath the window, where an elegant hand had scripted out a short menu. “Unfortunately, still waiting on a few shipments, but these are what I’d recommend.”

  “Oh, I’ll have a Tall, Dark Mocha Knight, double-strength, please,” Sam said as she fished her wallet out of her bag, “And whatever Clara’s having.”

  “That Chai with Orange Honey and Coconut milk sounds heavenly, Allie,” Clara chimed in, leaning a hip against the bar as she watched the two shorter women chat.

  Within a few blissfully short minutes, Sam and Clara had their drinks and were waving a goodbye to Allie, who was already helping the next customer behind them. Sam gratefully inhaled the scent of her coffee as she trailed beside Clara.

  After they were out of earshot, Sam turned suspicious eyes up to Clara. “Okay, so I may be slower than usual, but what freaked you out? I know I can be a grump without my coffee, but you looked like you saw the antichrist in person.”

  Waving Sam over to one of the benches set periodically along the path, Clara sighed. “Sorry, I keep forgetting how new you are to all of this. What do you know about bonds?”

  Shrugging, Sam sat down and took a slow, cautious sip of her coffee. Mmm. Perfect. “Honestly, besides the fact I get some nifty tattoos that most other people can’t see, that’s about it.”

  Settling next to Sam, Clara cradled her cup between her hands as she thought over her words. “It’s like this. All bonds are magic. Some bonds are little more than a formality, while others can convey power. For example,” Clara pointed to herself. “I’ve made three bonds, besides the one I have being born into Clan Leon. My clan bond is a formality, but in times of duress, it allows the members of my clan to draw upon my strength or to locate me in case of emergencies.”

  Sam nodded, listening intently as she subconsciously rubbed a hand over the mark on her left chest. “Okay, and I’ve made two bonds, right?”

  Clara waggled a hand side-to-side, “Sort of.” She pointed to Sam’s right arm. “The bond you made with Bertie is a powerful one. It’s more than a simple mark of friendship; instead, he imparted a bit of his own power into you. And Bertie is more than a little powerful. Don’t let the dessert-addicted teddy bear act fool you, he’s ancient and one of the few who are truly stormbound.”

  “Which means what?” Sam asked as she rolled up her sleeve to look at the gargoyle tattoo on her arm. The tattoo was at rest, but there was a subtle sense of movement within it, like wind rippling over a moss-covered statue.

  “Honestly, I’m not sure, just that Bertie’s taken you under his wing, which isn’t a bad thing,” Clara assured the other woman.

  “And what about this one,” Sam tapped her chest.

  “The mate bond is another different one. It binds the life forces of the two together. Once complete, it ensures that even a Mortal can live as long as their Fae partner, barring accidents or tragedies. Likewise, it allows mates to draw upon each other’s power.”

  “Still not seeing what freaked you out, I mean, I’ve had both of these for about a week now,” Sam said. “It’s not like you didn’t know about them.”

  Clara laughed ruefully, “Sweetie, apparently, when you get angry, you start drawing on whatever powers Bertie gave you. Your pretty little eyes were all electric. I’ve seen that man call down tornadoes, and I really didn’t want you going all Wicked Witch of the Rockies on us until you get a grip on these new gifts of yours.”

  Stunned, Sam gaped at the Sidhe. “It’s too damned early to deal with any of this,” Sam muttered as she drank her coffee and took the opportunity to look around her.

  Not far from where they sat, Sam spotted Lizzy with two other women, laughing together as they cleaned out one of the shops. Noticing where Sam’s gaze had landed, Clara grinned, “Right, showing you around now to some of my favorite places. Let’s go.”

  Sam sighed in resignation as Clara grabbed her arm and dragged her away once more on a whirlwind tour of the Village. They hung out for a little while with Lizzy and her two “sisters from other misters,” Laurel Song and Nicole Willow, at their shoppe, “The Sisters Tree: Beauty Au Naturale,” which sold beauty products ranging from soaps and shampoos through different makeups, all handmade from natural ingredients. The interior of their store smelled incredible, filled with floral scents that perked Sam up.

  Sam and Clara pitched in, helping to sweep out some of the dust and bring in some stock from the cart outside, while they gossiped with the three “sisters.” While Laurel and Nicole were younger than Lizzy, all three were big, beautiful women—Laurel with her glasses and smile that could light up the sky, Nicole with her long burgundy hair and sly wit, had Sam in stitches as they talked about the many, many hot guys that came through the Village.

  As they were leaving, Lizzy laughingly hollered after Sam, “You keep giving that boy hell, girl!” A cry that was echoed by both Laurel and Nicole.

  More awake now, and making a mental note to return once the Village opened for business, Sam once more followed alongside Clara. They passed by Raven, who was directing a group of very big, very muscular, and very shirtless men as they set up shop.

  Sam and Clara both stopped to gape at the shirtless guys, all those incredible muscles flexing and twitching as they carried heavy boxes into the store and set up the barbeque pit and smokers. Noticing their audience, which had picked up to a small crowd of gawkers, including a few guys, Raven’s men played to the crowd. Flexing, posing, “accidentally” spilling water as they took thirsty gulps from the big bottles of water conveniently at hand.

  A smirking Raven walked up and bumped hips with Sam. “Sorry about my boys. They can get a little rowdy and love showing off for a crowd.”

  Clara leaned in and whispered, “Raven’s always got a crew of her ‘boys’ around. Apparently, she’s quite a gifted matchmaker for bear shifters, with a knack for helping them find their fated mates.”

  Raven idly traced the bear-paw choker she wore, her eyes gleaming as she watched her boys. “Oh yes, it’s such a hardship having so many big, strong men hanging around all the time.” She gave Sam a sly look. “Too bad you’ve already met your fated mate, otherwise I’d hook you up with one of my boys!”

  Clara gasped, “What about me?” She pointed to herself with a pout.

  Raven speculatively eyed the tall Sidhe woman, then shook her head. “Alas, a bear is not in your future, m’dear.” She waggled a finger, “Besides, a certain Viking wolf might have something to say about that. You know how territorial those guys are.”

  “He’s just a good time,” Clara waved Raven’s comments away. “Great in bed, but not my cara.” Eyeing Sam, Clara grinned, “And now that my big brother’s met his, I figure I might as well settle for nothing less.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust, “Settling didn’t work so well for my parents.”

  Patting Clara’s shoulder, Raven gave Sam a subtle wink as she said, “Don’t worry about it. Your time will come, and until then, well, enjoy yourself!”

  Laughing, Clara replied, “That’s the plan!” Grinning at the flexing show of beefcake still performing for their appreciative audience, Clara wrapped an arm around Sam’s shoulders. “Right, let’s go. I want to show you the amphitheater.”

  As they headed off, Sam’s phone pinged with a message. Digging it out of her bag, her brow furrowed at the unfamiliar number.

  ‘SORRY I COULDN’T WAKE YOU UP PROPERLY THIS MORNING, MA CHÈRIE. HOPE YOU DREAM SWEET. ME
ET ME FOR LUNCH? CALL OR TEXT ANY TIME. <3 RIK’

  Sam felt her wounded pride ease as warmth flooded her chest. Jerk. At least he gave her a few hours to get a proper temper on before he had to go and ruin it by being thoughtful.

  “Going by the expression on your face, I’d say my idiot of a brother finally did something right,” Clara cheekily commented.

  Shoving her phone back into her bag, Sam managed a nonchalant shrug, though the grin threatening to break out on her face belied her words as she muttered, “Whatever. He’s still a jerkface.”

  Chapter 28

  It took about an hour to show Travis around the Château and immediate grounds, including the Landsmaster offices, which consisted of a large room set on the second floor of the main building, overlooking the grounds. As the pair stood out on the balcony, watching the sun rise over the Rockies, Rik pointed out the Estates borders.

  “The river divides the Estates, with the eastern side dedicated to the Village. North of the Village is the Field of Honor, where we hold huge festivals and host special events, such as the Rose War in August and the Cirque du Noir in October.”

  Moving his finger, Rik pointed out, “That’s the area the Travelers set up their camp. Then that area is the stables, with a boarding barn, foaling barn, pastures, and all that. We don’t keep many horses on the Estates, but we have a state-of-the-art facility, and during the season, we have some performers and guests board their horses here during the week. Off-season, we tend to keep it closed down and have the horses wintered down in Austin.”

  “What’s the season?” Travis asked, leaning on the marble railing as his eyes intently scanned the area.

  “We say May Day through Samhain,” Rik replied with a shrug, “But it’s usually the last weekend of April through the first weekend of November. We close the Village over the winter, though we maintain the grounds year-round. Since the Château is open year-round, and we rent villas and cabins for those looking for a wintery, private retreat, the eastern valley is pretty quiet during off-season.”

  “Can I ask what happened to your last Landsmaster?” Travis turned to regard Rik curiously, “I mean, why now? And why were Sam and I brought out here?”

  With a sigh, Rik shook his head. “it’s not a pretty story. Suffice to say, our last Landsmaster violated a personal pact, and it was either get rid of him or risk the Rockies being buried under an eternal blizzard.”

  Travis barked a laugh, but it quickly died at the serious expression on Rik’s face. “You’re serious?”

  “Sort of.” Rik shrugged, “He pissed off the wrong Fae, one whose emotions tend to influence the weather around here.” He shot Travis a crooked grin, “You think it’s easy having a place like this in the Rockies? Having someone who’s able to manipulate weather comes in very handy. He’s subtle, but there’s a reason why we pull a healthy profit every year.”

  Eyeing his watch, Rik said, “Come on. Let’s grab one of the UTVs and head over to the Village.”

  As the two headed back downstairs, Travis got a few dirty looks, including the cold shoulder from both Gen and Danny, who were going over security cameras at the main desk.

  Looking back over his shoulder as they headed down to the garage, Travis asked, “What’d I do? I just got here…”

  Glancing back, Rik grimaced. “They know you’re here for the Landsmaster position, and they’ve already met and like Sam, who’s supposedly up for the same position.”

  In a decidedly neutral tone, Travis asked, “What are you going to do about that?”

  “Simple,” Rik’s grin was decidedly shark-like. “I’m hiring both of you. You’ll work together and share the damned title. It’s not like we can’t afford it, and believe me, I plan on keeping Ms. Samantha Kelly around for a good, long time.”

  Travis let out a nearly inaudible sigh of relief, his grin bright in his bearded face as he clapped Rik’s arm, “In that case, sign me up. Sam and I can work it out, but I figure I can take the west side and she can take the east side responsibility-wise. We’ve worked together well before, so I’m sure we can get it all sorted out.”

  Rik clapped his hands together, resisting the urge to rub them together and cackle maniacally, like a supervillain, as he replied, “Excellent. Let’s go. We can tell Sam later, but I’ve got to get to the Village, or we’re going to have a lion hunting me down like I’m a catnip mouse.”

  Fishing out his phone as they headed for the ATV and UTV stalls, Rik quickly sent Sam a text message. Yes, he totally stole her number from her personnel file, but he was the Big Boss, so it was totally allowed. Grabbing a helmet, he tossed one to Travis and pointed out the crimson Yamaha Viking UTV, one of the three-seater utility vehicles kept by the Estates to get around throughout the year.

  “Really?” Travis asked with sneer, a hint of his old arrogance as he hefted the black helmet emblazoned with the CDL white-and-gold lion logo.

  “Just put it on,” Rik chuckled. “Got to make it look good for the straights. Plus, liability insurance is a bitch. Get used to it. I’ll even buy you a helmet with a puppy on it, if it’ll make you feel better.”

  Rolling his eyes, Travis strapped the helmet on and climbed into the UTV as Rik hopped into the driver’s seat. Strapping in, they roared out of the garage and down the hill. With the UTV, they were able to hop off the main road, cutting along one of the side roads that led by the lake and cut directly toward the Village instead of taking the long way around.

  As they crossed over one of the river bridges, Travis leaned over and hollered, “So what’s with the light side and dark side of the Village?”

  “Easy. The ‘Light Side’ represents the Seelie Court, and is more geared toward kids and family-friendly entertainment. The ‘Dark Side’ is the Unseelie Court, and is more adult-oriented,” Rik hollered back as he maneuvered onto one of the spiraling paths leading through the Unseelie side of the Village. Here, the buildings were all darker, in grays and blacks, with an eerie vibe that was both menacing and seductive.

  “Every Saturday, the Village stays open until about 2 AM,” Rik went on to explain. “We call it After Dark, and it’s only open to those 18 and older. We started it a few years back after getting some complaints from vamps that wanted to visit, and since they’re not the only nocturnals, we figured it made sense. The Unseelie-side really comes to life then.”

  “And the entire Estates, both the Château and Village, are considered a Sanctuary?” Travis asked, his grip on the safety bar a bit white-knuckled. Not that Rik noticed. Well, okay, so he noticed, he just didn’t care.

  “Yep, it’s expanded over the years, but the Château was made a Sanctuary back when my grandfather built it, one of the first in the Rockies, and the only one for a good few centuries,” Rik said as they pulled up outside the amphitheater.

  It wasn’t even noon yet, but a good crowd had already begun milling through the Village. Some of the shops were opened, getting aired out and stock being moved in and prepared, while some of the venues were likewise being cleaned up and prepared.

  The amphitheater was a reproduction of the Théâtre antique de Lyon, a Roman theatre in Lyon, France. Built at the base of a hill, upon which sat a stone keep, the semi-circular amphitheater could easily seat over 1000 people, with the staging area roughly about 150 feet wide and 75 feet deep. With its marble winged lion statues, orchestra pit and even “Royal Boxes,” many considered it one of the centerpieces of the entire Village. Few outside the Uncanny knew that it had been here for centuries, serving as a private meeting place for moots and ceremonies, but almost everyone could feel the impressive weight of its presence as they stood at the top and looked down at the stage below.

  “Wow,” Travis breathed as he stepped out of the UTV. “It’s different being down here than seeing it from at the Château.”

  “Mais oui, mon ami,” Rik teased as he climbed out and joined the wolf at the top of the amphitheater, looking down at the small group gathered on the stage. When one of the distant
figures raised an arm and waved them over, Rik chuckled and slapped Travis on the back. “Come on, pup, time to introduce you to the troupe.”

  Jogging down the wide stone stairs, Travis behind him, Rik headed for the group of guys standing around a bunch of heavy-looking, large canvas bags. Clay was there, wearing a Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, and flip flops with a University of Hawaii ball cap.

  The big feline pulled Rik into a manly hug, with lots of back-slapping as he crowed, “Well, look here. The man has managed to peel himself from between the luscious thighs of his anam cara. This calls for a celebration!”

  Rik winced. Not only from the heavy-handed slaps against his back from his so-called best friend, but the loud announcement that echoed through the amphitheater. Damn acoustics!

  Rik was surrounded by the members of his troupe, in a rough group hug filled with teasing congratulations.

  “Damn, man, trapped? Lucky git!”

  “Who’s the unlucky wench that got boarded by you?”

  “Poor Clay, he’s finally lost you to the Dark Side. Always knew he wasn’t pussy enough for you!”

  “Hey, fucker!” The roar came from Clay as he launched himself at a massive, chortling Viking.

  With a resigned sigh, Rik turned to Travis. “Meet my troupe. You already know Clay,” Rik pointed to the snarling feline, who was rolling around trying to pin the helplessly gasping from laughter Viking. “And that big, blond idiot is Donar.”

  “The skinny one over there,” Rik pointed to the grinning auburn-haired guy, whose long hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, except for a white lock that fell into his golden-hued eyes. Compared to the others, he was indeed shorter and more slimly built, but he had the lean, wiry build of a long-distance runner. “Goes by Sionnach. Don’t take a single thing he says seriously. Ever.”

  “The pirate-looking guy over there,” Rik indicated the tall, elegant guy with a rakish goatee, thick brown hair pulled back into a queue, and gleaming golden hoops in both ears. The man’s wide grin was startlingly white against his darkly-bronzed skin. “Is currently going by Santiago. He’s a bit of a slut, even compared to the rest of us, so don’t get between him and his flavor of the evening, or you may find yourself on the wrong end of a boarding party.”