“Aye,” Chance said. “Is he there?”
“He was … but now … I don’t know.”
Chance stepped to the water’s edge, heedless of the sightseers, and cupped his mouth to shout, “Pestale! Do ye hear me, devil—do ye? I want ye to prepare yerself to say m’sister’s name, for it will be the last thing ye say before I gouge out yer eyes and yank out ye insides and feed ye to the buzzards!”
Royce walked up to him and touched his bare arm. Her problem had always been that she empathized with others. She felt for Chance and understood the anguish that governed his need for revenge.
There was nothing she could do for him, so she didn’t speak. He looked down at her, and their eyes met. A blast of emotion swept through her, and she was stunned by the charge. She looked at him and wondered if he felt it as well—an electric current that went through her insides …? Did he feel it? Did he?
“We shouldn’t give him warnings like that, Chance.” Trevor interrupted the moment. “He’ll leave the area now before we can get to him.”
“Doona be daft,” he answered Trev gruffly. “He already knows we be cooming for him. If he hasn’t left the area already, he will long before we can locate him, but we are getting closer, and he knows it. What I’m wondering is how he will manage to move the portal, for that, I’m guessing, is his plan.”
“I wasn’t being daft,” said Trevor, obviously taking umbrage. “It isn’t daft to work on a strategy,” he said irritably.
Chancemont’s pointer finger jabbed at Trevor’s head as he smiled at the young prince. “Ye think I doona have a plan? Again, don’t be daft.”
“Well, Chance, if you have a plan, it would be nice if you let me in on it,” complained Trevor, while Royce silently took it all in.
“When I know enough … when I know more, so I shall, lad … so I shall.”
Royce’s brow went up as she watched Chance turn on his sandaled heel and, without another word or explanation, stomp off.
Trevor gave her a crooked smile, shrugged, and said, “I tell you what, Red. I don’t know what is going on with that Milesian. Sometimes I just don’t understand him.”
Well,
here was the thing, thought Royce. She was beginning to see just what Chance was doing. He wanted to draw the Dark Prince out. Keep him wondering what his little team meant to do next.
It might work.
The Dark Prince was arrogant enough to believe that they didn’t stand a chance in hell of getting to him.
Fine
—let the Dark One think that.
Deep in thought, she left Trevor to his own devices and took a walk along the edge of the lake. She wanted to formulate a plan from the tendrils of her last vision. She needed to gather what she knew and put it together with what she had seen and felt. She needed to concentrate and remember everything she had noticed from when she saw him leaving the hotel to the moment they had locked eyes in her more recent vision.
She already knew that tracking black magic was next to impossible—
for most Fae.
She smiled to herself because she wasn’t ‘most Fae’. She was a princess with unique abilities. Her family’s house was Nimrough, which meant ‘the hunters’.
To hunt, one needed many abilities, and those abilities centered on earth, water, wind, and fire—just the elements she could wield to advantage. She put out feelers, stretching her senses and becoming one with the breeze. It worked all too quickly. She was suddenly engulfed in a cloud of darkness and mist.
She knew almost immediately, and too late, her magic was being turned on herself. Pestale had used his own brand of black magic at that very moment.
She felt its biting touch as the dark mist surrounded her. However, she had to pretend weakness. She had to give into it if she was going to follow it to the source.
She opened her eyes and realized she was no longer standing at the edge of the lake!
* * *
Chancemont made his way towards a cluster of oak trees and stood in their midst, looking up at the heavens and chanting. He paused after a moment and conjured up a fire in the center of the circle he had created with his mind. He watched as the flames lapped up air and then burned blue.
Trevor came up behind him and said, “You can’t leave me out of this, Chance. Either I’m with you or I’m not.”
“I am calling on the spirits of my ancestors to help us track. They might not like a Fae around,” Chance answered grimly.
“Well, I’m sure they can deal with it.”
“Do ye think that, indeed?” Chance said ruefully.
“I do. If they are powerful enough to help you, then they will immediately know you and I are on the same side.”
“Well then, lad, we’ll just have to wait and see …” Chance turned back to the high blue flames and whispered the chant once more.
A soft breeze touched them, and a voice to match asked, “What do you need, Milesian?”
“Help,” he answered laconically.
“Of course, but we are Spirits of the Light. We cannot help you seek revenge.”
“But you can help me find the Dark Prince. You can point the way,” Chance answered defiantly.
“No, we cannot. Your purpose forbids us.”
“
My purpose is justice
!” Chance snapped irritably.
“
Your
justice,” the disembodied voice answered softly.
“Would you have the devil’s evil loose in the world?” Chance shot back.
“Will you contain his evil or put him to death, Milesian?” After a slight pause, the voice then said, “Ah, we have our answer—it is there in your heart.”
“But … he will harm so many unless we put a stop to him!” Chance pursued.
“Fate is what it is—we don’t condone or aid the spilling of blood. Come to us for truth and light.”
And as gently as the spirits of the light arrived, they left.
Chance kicked at the fire and cursed harshly, “
Hell bloody hell!
”
“Come on—let’s get Red and figure something out …”
Chance eyed Trevor speculatively. “That is another thing. You say
you loved
my sister, yet you seem very … close to the wee princess. You call her Red and speak in intimate terms with great affection in your voice.”
Trevor snorted. “Royce?” He shook his head. “Royce is like a sister to me.” Trevor grinned. “We grew up together, and I think I have always called her Red, for her hair.”
Chance said nothing to this but looked around. “And where is the wee lass now?”
They looked back towards the lake and saw there a dark cloud hovering only a few feet over the grass but no sign of the princess!
* * *
Royce was in trouble, and she knew it.
Something had a hold of her, and although she tried, she couldn’t break free. Her Death Sword was thankfully within her sphere and easily called should she need it, but she was momentarily trapped in this thick, dark, damp cloud!
She looked around, and the only thing she was sure of was that black magic was at work—it was all around her.
She felt a stinging sensation as the mist drew her deeper inside and seemed to rise off, well off the ground with her. The Lower Lake below began to recede from her vision, and as she was drawn deeper into the dark cloud, she lost sight of it completely.
She was being sucked in by a force wrapped around her body like a second skin, and she had to acknowledge it was damned terrifying. Dark Magic of the basest kind had a hold of her as she tried to break free.
She spread her arms out and called on the elements, but a shield between her and the atmosphere outside the cloud interfered with the process.
What kind of black magic was this? She suddenly realized she had the power to shift out whenever she chose. However, she didn’t choose. She wanted to take this ride, test it, find out what it locked away, and perhaps gain a step up. Knowing Dark Magic was the way to defeat it …
Suddenly, two strong, tattooed arms enfolded her and molded her to a male body. She felt featherweight in his arms, and she knew … it was Pestale. He was holding her in his embrace, and his voice was wildly enticing as he whispered softly in her ear, “My very own Seelie princess …”
Okay
,
so not good
. What exactly did he mean—his own Seelie princess? What was that all about? She was off the ground, high in the air, and floating around with the Dark Prince—not exactly a way to control him.
Could she kill him? Was she mentally and physically ready to unsheathe her sword and put him to death?
No
. Chance had been correct, so correct, when he had told her she wasn’t a killer. She wasn’t—at least not yet. There was no telling what she would become when the need called.
However, she wasn’t prepared to kill just yet. There had to be more diplomatic ways to control the Dark Prince.
There had to be
. She would have to concentrate to get herself out of this without using violence.
She squirmed around in his arms so she could face him as he held her tightly in his embrace. She looked up into his penetrating black eyes, felt the challenge of his magical strength. She was momentarily taken aback. She had known that his Dark powers would be a force, but she had not expected him to exert such hypnotic charm. His smile was absolutely beautiful. His eyes promised something she knew he was not capable of feeling—
love.
She calmed herself, for fighting with him at this moment wouldn’t work. What she needed was another tactic altogether.
She said as flirtatiously as she could muster, for she’d never believed she was any good at the art of dalliance and had not had very much practice, “
Hello, big boy …
”
He looked at her with some surprise and chuckled, and she hurriedly followed up with a tease in her voice and a saucy glint in her eye, “Just what are you doing?” She ran her hand up his naked, hard, and rippled chest.
“Whatever you wish me to do with you, here and now, beauty,” he said softly.
“Well, I would like you to put me down on terra firma for one thing …”
“Not now, now when I need to stare into your eyes …
such eyes
… aqua lit with silver and captivating.” His voice was a soft caress.
Why did his voice have to be so lush and beautiful, she thought ruefully. He threw her off balance. He shouldn’t have such a wonderful, sexy voice. He should sound as wicked as she knew he must be. She continued to dally with him as she said, “And are you … captivated?”
He grinned, and she noted that grin was devastatingly inviting, alluring—and told herself to be on guard.
“Is that what you want—to enchant and seduce me? For if so, consider yourself successful. I am yours …” he said quietly and with a glint of passion in his dark eyes.
She told herself to remember that he was the one who was the master seducer. She smirked. “Oh, I am not so easily taken in, Dark Prince. I am weaned enough to know that
you
will never belong to anyone.” Pander to his ego, she told herself, as her instincts kicked in.
He chuckled. “True, but if you come with me now of your own free will, I will pledge myself to you.”
She stared at him and frowned. “
Why
? Why me … when you obviously can have so many?”
“Because the moment I saw you, I felt … something … and I am not capable of feeling very much, so you must understand that I am intrigued.”
She was surprised to discover that she almost believed him. She knew better than to believe a dark and twisted mind when it spoke, didn’t she? Of course she did. She shouldn’t believe anything he said. He was evil, he was, and would always be self-serving …
And he was certainly cunning.
He would play with her sense of self. He would flatter her into thinking she was the only female who had ever ‘intrigued’ him. He would attempt to remove her guard, and then what? Just what did he want with her? Dawning lit in her active brain. “Ah, you want a Seelie Fae princess at your side, to add to your consequence and power,” she concluded, saying it as much to herself as to him.
A short laugh escaped him before he acknowledged, “Of course, but I want
that
Seelie Fae princess
to be you.
You are the one in my thoughts—you are the one I want to undress and take to my bed.
”
“Because I’m handy.” Her eyes narrowed. His bed? What was this sudden talk of bed? She didn’t like that—not one bit. She pulled a face at him as she suddenly realized he was done talking.
He had bent his head as he held her in his steel grip, and his mouth took hers with a demand that was forceful and yet managed not to give her pain. He nibbled just a bit more roughly as he parted her lips and plunged his velvety tongue inside her mouth, and for the flash of a moment, just a moment, she saw into his mind!
She allowed him his kiss because she was in his head, in a place where a whirlwind of bitterness, hatred, need, and something else swirled and raged …
He lifted his head away from her and laughed without mirth. He was angry. She had invaded a private part of him that he had never meant to reveal to her. He disguised his anger with the softness of a smile.