She stepped back, her skirt swaying around her and drawing his eyes over her body again. “Enough play. Let us proceed to your true goal.”
The abrupt shift in her thinking nearly took him off guard. The pisky had warned him that the Queen of the Unseelie was known for following whatever urge took her mind from moment to moment, but he had expected a monarch to have an attention span slightly longer than a gnat’s. Aldric kept his face blank as he beckoned his men to follow him as he trailed after the queen. Every sense sharpened as they moved, wary of any other surprises that may leap from behind a blood red curtain.
“When you finish here, do not forget your promise to the poor little pisky,” the queen spoke up suddenly. She continued walking without pause. “No matter what excitement may follow your visit, you must keep your word.”
Aldric’s steps faltered as cold shock cracked over his spine. His men halted behind him as he stopped and stared at the queen. She didn’t glance back, didn’t continue to speak. She didn’t give him a single clue as to how she’d known of his prisoner.
Alarm bells went off in his head and his hand swept behind him to his long braid of hair. It would take him only seconds to rip the iron bar from it’s plaited prison, though he had no idea how he and his men would escape even if he could subdue the queen. Cold resolve stiffened his muscles and he forced a calm over his body. He returned his hand to his side. Rash behavior was never rewarded.
“Your majesty?” he asked calmly. “To what pisky do you refer?”
The queen spun around, a smile splitting her face like a demented jack o’ lantern. “Why the one you’ve got buried in your little iron cage, of course.” She frowned. “I don’t recall his name. He’s not one of my subjects after all, the piskies belong to Tatania’s horde.”
Behind him, he could feel the currents of air shifting as his men fanned out ever so slightly. It took all his self control not to reach behind him again for the iron bar.
“Oh, Aldric, calm yourself. I could care less if you imprison a pisky. And it doesn’t bother me in the slightest that you inquired so vigorously about me and my court. Why, I should have done the very same thing in your position.”
“It seems I was not as vigorous in my inquisition as I believed,” Aldric said slowly.
“Oh, no, you were quite enthusiastic,” the queen assured him. “He just assumed you knew my title. I’m sure it never occurred to him to spell it out for you.”
“The Queen of Air and Darkness? Is that the title to which you refer?” As much as he hated admitting ignorance, playing it cool would only put off the inevitable. He needed to know right now what it was he had missed. Before he went any further into the belly of the Unseelie sithen.
“That is the one,” the queen nodded. She smiled. “Poor Aldric. How were you to know that every word spoken into the soft embrace of the darkness is mine to hear as I will it?” She chuckled. “Even if you had known, what are you to do about it? You’re a vampire, your options are dreadfully limited in that area.” She scowled. “Not like Tatania.”
The circle of her thoughts led him in a dizzying dance. Aldric couldn’t be certain, but it seemed as if Dubheasa was toying with him for amusement’s sake. There didn’t seem to be much threat in her at all.
“Tatania, the queen of Light and Illusion?” he asked politely, gauging the queen’s reaction.
“Light and Illusion,” the queen echoed, rolling her eyes. “Yes, yes. Everything around her is full of light. Not a single shadow to carry a whisper.” Yearning filled her eyes for a moment. “Oh, what I would have given to see her face when Oberon turned his attentions to Saule. It was delicious enough to see her expression when she called to offer Saule to me for punishment. She looked so delightfully enraged!”
Her laughter bounced off the walls and Aldric stepped back toward his men. He had always hated monarchs, and now he remembered why. Bloody insanity.
“She is beautiful, I’ll give her that,” the queen continued. “Of course what do you expect? She is a sun goddess after all. Even in human form one wouldn’t expect less than radiant beauty from a sun goddess, yes?”
Cold hatred sent painful splinters of ice prickling through his veins. “One wouldn’t expect much more than beauty from a sun goddess.”
Queen Dubheasa raised her eyebrows. “Such venom in your voice. What did the goddess do to earn such poison?”
“Nothing,” Aldric said bitterly, not bothering to hide the truth from the inquisitive queen. “She did nothing when it mattered most.”
“Is that why you raped her daughter?”
Aldric hissed. “I raped no one. Valkyrine submitted to me willingly.”
“After you kidnapped her and held her against her will for several full moons,” the queen pointed out. “I dare say anyone’s will could have been broken under the . . . attentions you lavished on her. Incidentally, what made you turn your vengeance to seduction? That’s quite an unusual punishment, I’m curious as to what made you think of it?”
Aldric brushed off the pang of regret that stabbed at his heart. The past rose like a ghost in his mind, reminding him ever so briefly of who he used to be. “As a human, I was a loyal follower of Saule. I held myself back from the pleasures of the flesh, dedicating myself completely to her service.” Cold anger swirled through his veins, chilling the pain that threatened to close his throat. “My years of complete dedication meant nothing to her. My self-denial meant nothing.” He turned his head to face the queen, only half seeing her through the shade of the past. “What better revenge than to compensate for those years of lying alone in a cold bed than to warm my sheets with the warmth of her daughter’s golden body?”
A brush of fingertips on his erection startled him out of his daze. He stared at the queen as she caressed his hardening manhood. He had allowed himself to get too wrapped up in thoughts of sweet revenge. The queen had startled him with a caress, but it could just as easily have been a stake to his chest. Such mistakes were unforgivable—his emotions would get him killed if he continued to let them run roughshod over him.
Steeling himself all over again, Aldric refocused his attention on the queen. Just because the female he wanted waited for him in the bowels of the sithen, didn’t mean he could afford to take his focus off the female currently running a fingernail over his erection.
“It seems answering my little question has left you in the perfect mood to meet your fair lady.” She whirled around. “Come. This is a show I must see.”
Before Aldric could process her most recent change in direction, the queen walked up to yet another red curtain a mere ten yards away.
“Don’t be shy, Aldric.” She gestured toward the curtained alcove. “Pull aside the curtain and meet the entertainment that you have been so eager to find.”
A soft clink of metal from behind the curtain rang in his ears, drawing his attention to the thick red material. The picture he’d received with the queen’s invitation floated back into his mind. Saule. In chains. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Half the work was done for him. Moving with all the severity of the grave, he stepped forward and pulled it aside.
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Preview of UNDER HIS SKIN, a paranormal romance
Chapter 1
“Ack, no! Don’t pick that one.”
Ana paused with her hand over a strip of honeysuckle. Darting her gaze around the herbalist’s small shop, she searched for the source of the unholy screeching that made the nerves in her arms shrivel in agony. Rows of drying herbs hung from a square patch of ceiling on her right, lavender, mistletoe, and slippery elm filling the air with their soft fragrances. Rows and rows of oils and candles lined the left wall, their simple glass jars and neatly labeled black lids the epitome of order.
Mrs. Downing, the shop’s owner, was still in the back filling her order. No other patrons were in sight. Ana narrowed her eyes and then turned her attention back to the display of honeysuckle that lined the glass case in front of her. Her
foot resumed its nervous tapping and she clenched her teeth as she wondered once again what was taking Mrs. Downing so long.
“Are you daft? I said don’t pick that one!”
Stomping her foot in agitation, Ana jerked her head up just in time to get struck between the eyes with something small and pointy. She caught the projectile in her hand as it fell, looking down at what appeared to be a tiny piece of wood. She stared at the sliver in her hand before glaring up at the creature that had hurled it.
A little pixie glowered at her from inside a cage hanging over the cash register to her right, just over her head enough that she hadn’t noticed it when she looked around. His pale white skin looked strange amidst the warm earth tones of the shop. The soft grey fur of his clothing seemed to be stitched together from what she could only guess was mouse fur and he had on a pair of tiny brown boots as well. He would have been cute if not for the scowl on his face.
“What do you care what herbs I pick?”
“Don’t question me, woman, just listen,” he shouted. “Don’t pick that one! Don’t pick any of them!” He grabbed hold of the bars on either side of him and began to rock until the whole cage swung crazily from side to side. “Every herb in this shop is POISON!” he screamed.
“One more squeal out of you and it won’t just be the cage’s latch that’s forged of iron!”
Ana raised her eyebrows as Mrs. Downing came barreling out of the back room, shaking her fist at the imprisoned pixie as the curtain that blocked the doorway settled behind her. Dressed in casual black pants and a red shirt, with a black and red Chilkat blanket hanging down her back, the shopkeeper was a pleasant combination of tradition and modern comfort. As her long black braid flailed behind her, Ana couldn’t help but be impressed that a woman of Mrs. Downing’s generous size and age could move that quickly.
If only she’d move that fast filling my order, Ana thought, annoyance prompting her to cross her arms. I need these herbs NOW. I’m so close . . .
The old woman continued to glare at the pixie. “You think about that, you little thief! Surrounded by iron! Just the thought of it makes your puny flesh burn, doesn’t it?”
The pixie glared at the herbalist, but he kept his mouth shut. Mrs. Downing gave him one last scathing glance before turning to Ana, a smile instantly bursting to life as she focused her attention on one of her best customers.
“Please forgive the noise, my dear. I only leave him there as a warning to any other pests who might be thinking about stealing from me.”
“What did he steal from you?” Ana asked the question more to distract herself from her reason for coming to the shop than for any real desire to know the answer. The devastation waiting for her at home weighed like lead on her spirit, only a thin sliver of hope that this time, this spell, might be different saving her from complete despair.
“A lousy rose petal,” the pixie grumped. “I only wanted a soft leaf for my pillow.”
The herbalist’s gaze shot back to the cage. “It wasn’t one lousy rose petal, you little miscreant. You raided my roses every night for a month! Do you know how expensive roses are? They don’t exactly grow wild in the Alaskan wilderness, now do they?”
“Well they dry up!” the pixie screeched. “You want I should sleep on a scratchy dried up rose petal? Me, with the soft skin of a newborn—”
“Oh, shut up!” Mrs. Downing bellowed.
Ana rubbed her forehead between her eyes. This, she said to herself, is why I should stay at home and order herbs over the internet. Shipping can’t possibly take as long at this exceptionally loud woman. “Mrs. Downing, would you be so kind as to add some St. John’s wort to my order?”
The herbalist turned her attention back to Ana, a look of concern adding new creases to her aged brown skin. “St. John’s wort? Are you not feeling well?”
“Just a headache,” Ana growled.
“Probably from the smell of all these third rate herbs.”
“That’s it!” the old woman yelled, whirling around. She stomped toward the back room. “I’m getting the iron cage!”
Ana looked up at the almost comical look of horror on the little pixie’s face. Without a second thought, she reached up and unlatched the iron slide bolt. She couldn’t seem to do anything about her own misery, but the pixie’s woes were easily assuaged.
“Get out of here before she comes back,” Ana said quietly. “And never treat your freedom so carelessly again.”
The pixie darted out of the cage, only pausing for a second to hover in front of her.
“My name is Nu.” He tilted his head. “What is your name?”
“Ana.”
“I won’t forget this, Ana,” he said seriously.
“You can’t help me.”
Nu raised his eyebrows. “No? Are you so sure?”
Ana’s eyes burned with the hint of tears. “I’m sure. A little ice fairy has no power over my problem.”
The pixie remained silent for a moment, eyeing her with eyes that looked too old for his young face. “Fire or iron then?”
Ana’s throat constricted. She nodded, once.
The pixie furrowed his brow and tilted his head. “I’ll think of something.”
She nodded wearily and waved him away. It was a nice sentiment he offered her, but her parents had left her more money than she could spend in a lifetime and the one thing she truly wanted wasn’t something a little pixie could help her with. Nu gave her one last strange look and the next moment he was gone.
“Mrs. Downing, perhaps I’ll just cancel my order. I really am in an awful hurry,” Ana called loudly, knowing the woman would be distracted from her retrieval of the iron cage at the thought of losing money. She pressed her hands to her face, forcing the tears back. She had not time for that now.
“I’ll be with you in just a tick, dear!” Mrs. Downing called out in a sweet sing-song voice. “Won’t be, but a moment.”
Ana gritted her teeth at the woman’s condescending cheer. The sooner she could get out of this miserable shop and back to her cabin the better. Just the thought of her secluded cabin, nestled away in the trees just a stone’s throw from the shore, eased some of the tension from her shoulders. It was so quaint, so comfortable—so isolated. And when I finally get my hands on these herbs, I’ll have the means to try one more time. This spell just has to work.
Memories of all her past failures screeched at her from her mind and she bit her lip to muffle a whimper of frustration. She couldn’t keep doing this. If this spell didn’t work . . . Blast you, Mrs. Downing, please, for the love of Perun, hurry!
The bells over the door to the shop jingled and Ana closed her eyes. Was getting her herbs without being exposed to a hundred people really so much to ask? In Haines, Alaska? Yes, yes it is, she answered herself.
For what had to be the millionth time in just the past month, Ana rued the fact that while the population of Haines was what allowed her to have such a wonderfully isolated home, it was also the reason that her weekly venture into town for supplies was akin to attending a family dinner. Which is to say, everyone felt obligated to greet her and inquire into her personal life while simultaneously sharing unwanted tidbits from their own. Humans are so nosey. It’s no wonder they can’t go a decade without a war.
Vowing once again to move to a big city where no one knew her name, Ana opened her eyes to see what fresh hell was going to engage her in conversation now.
She froze.
Possibly the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen had just stepped into the shop. Six foot six if he was an inch, with eyes so dark they could only be called black, and a shock of dark hair that just begged her to run her fingers through it. He wore a pair of stiff blue jeans and a fur-lined brown leather coat. She caught a glimpse of a soft green cotton shirt under the leather. He kicked the snow off his heavy boots, the dull thuds of the hard rubber soles against the floor sounding unnaturally loud in the silent shop.
By the time she dragged her gaze away from its perus
al of his clothing, he’d noticed her stare. She kicked herself as she found him looking straight into her eyes, a bemused smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. She didn’t know what annoyed her more, the fact that she’d been staring at him like a starving fox watches a limping rabbit, or the fact that he seemed amused by it.
“Hello,” he said with a smile, sauntering over to her and reaching out a hand. “I’m Brec.”
Cursing Mrs. Downing and her wounded turtle-like speed, Ana dropped her gaze as she accepted his handshake. “Ana.”
His hand engulfed hers, her pale slender fingers looking more feminine and delicate against his tanned skin. He didn’t seem dark enough to be a full blood Native, but he looked as if someone in his family tree was. The warmth of his hand soothed Ana’s senses, reminding her of how long it’d been since she had any real contact with another person. Even a simple handshake felt . . . personal. Her heart beat a little faster and she mentally shook herself. She didn’t have time for this. She had too much to do, too much at stake. She pulled her hand away, opening her mouth to excuse herself. As his hand left hers, Ana’s downcast eyes spotted something that made her heart skip a beat and all other thoughts come crashing to a halt.
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