Chance snorted; Royce assumed that he did not think much of riddle-like information they had received. However, his next words showed her that supposition was not quite right.
Chance said slowly, “Well now, ye both be too young to know much about him, but I remember the Fallen Druid very well. It was a name he earned.” He sighed and said, “We will have to consider all the possibilities. There are no easy answers, and I am not exactly sure how this information helps us. I need some time to think.”
~ Six ~
“WELL? HAVE YOU thought long enough?” Royce asked, for she could see from the way Trevor sat that he meant to let Chance draw this out, for what reasons she could not fathom. She meant to speed it up if she could.
She noted to herself that as usual Trevor was far more patient than she ever could be. In fact, she realized, they were so very different from one another it was a wonder their friendship had ever survived those differences.
She tried to control her anxiousness ‘to know’, and Chance seemed to enjoy her discomfort as he said softly, “Aye then … I suppose ye want to know about this Fallen Druid?”
“You think?” Royce returned with a frenzied movement of her hand.
“We must approach this new development carefully,” he said after a moment’s quiet.
Royce reached out, grabbed his arm, and squeezed. “
Now
—tell us now what you know.”
“If ye take hold of me like that with yer fine wee hands, ye must expect me to do the same …” he said to her with a look that made her want to cross her legs and close her eyes. He had a magnetism that worked her in so many ways …
“I … only grabbed yer arm …” she offered on a hushed sound.
“There is no saying where I’ll be grabbing,” he returned with a low and sexy tone that came from somewhere deep in his throat and made a shiver race up her spine.
She stared into his blue eyes—those bright blues—and then cast a glance over his face, partially shaded by his windblown blond hair. She had an absurd desire to move into his arms and kiss him. She told herself she was just frenzied by everything that had happened.
Forgotten was Trevor, who coughed and interrupted the moment. “Well, if you two are finished doing whatever it is you are doing, do you think, Chance, you could let us in on this Fallen Druid tale …?”
Chance snorted a laugh and eyed Trevor before he said, “Aye then, but I’m hungry and thirsty. Time to sit down with a pint and some food, and then we’ll talk.”
Royce sat thoughtful another moment as she watched both Trevor and Chance get to their feet. Chance turned to her and gave her his hand. “Doona ye coom with us, lass?”
She gave him her hand, and he pulled her up with just enough force to land against his body. He held her hand as he took it behind her back, pressing her against him. He bent his head to …
He is going to kiss me
, she thought with a sudden tremor that spindled up her back.
Right here and now and with Trev watching, because he doesn’t worry about such things. He is going to kiss me … yes, here it comes …
Instead, he whispered in her ear, “Are ye hungry, lass?”
“Um, hungry … yes …”
“Then stay close, and I’ll take ye there …”
He led them into his shift as a trickle of disappointment swept through her.
H
e didn’t kiss me.
She felt like a schoolgirl.
She wasn’t much more than one, with little experience in the art of pleasing a man—or herself for that matter. Her time had been spent watching and forming attachments to humans. Unlike her Fae friends her own age, she had very little experience and a great deal to learn.
As they stepped out of the shift and stood before a charming pub with brightly filled flower boxes on either side of the black front door, she looked at Chance; he had still not released her hand, and she wondered if she should let him be the one to teach her.
Would he want to?
He had flirted with her, he had teased, and, yes, he had kissed her, but not because he really wanted her. He had kissed her to show her she was but a female and should stay out of the fight. He had flirted for much the same reason, she believed. No, he had not really tried to romance her.
All such thoughts were put aside, however, as they entered the lively pub, took a table in a dark corner in the back of the main galley, and settled in.
Royce sighed. Fae didn’t need to eat often, but they did enjoy a good meal, and she was actually looking forward to her first Guinness of the day.
She ordered a great deal more in the way of food than either man expected, and they both regarded her in some amusement. “Ye can’t possibly fit all that food into that wee body, lass?”
“Watch me.” She laughed and then shrugged. “We burn a great deal of calories when we perform … er … magic. So I can eat two orders of chips with chocolate cake to wash it down, if I want to.”
Chance put up his hands and grinned.
Royce got up and started towards the ladies room, and Chance said softly, “I’ll miss ye till ye get back …”
Trevor rolled his eyes, and Royce snorted. “Yeah, right.”
She took a moment to look at herself in the mirror. Her red hair was tossed wildly around her face. She realized she had not toned down the variegated shades of silver and aqua of her eyes and immediately humanized them. She blinked her long, flame-colored hair into a silky mane and ran her hands over her dirty jeans—cleaning them instantly.
She took off her denim jacket; with a flick of her wrist it too was spotless and wrinkle free. She blinked away the tank top she had been wearing and replaced it with a fresh, sleeveless black cotton top that barely reached her low-waisted jeans. Royce smiled, pleased with the picture she would present Chancemont LeBlanc!
She stepped out and into a group of three men bent on having a good time. She smiled as she tried to make her way through them.
One of them, an American who’d spent most of his vacation trying out Beamish, Guinness, and various other local beers, was feeling his oats. He reached out and held her wrist to detain her. “There now, pretty lady, where are you going? Stay awhile.”
Before she could answer or handle the situation, Chance was there, stepping up to the American and saying on a low, hard note, “I woona do that if I were ye.”
“Well, you ‘woona’, but I would and am,” returned the young American, bending his head back a bit to look up the seven inches higher that Chance stood.
Royce saw from the way Chance clenched and unclenched his jaw that he was supremely irritated. She reached out to take his hand, but he didn’t notice as the young American, apparently meaning to stand his ground rather than appear a coward in front of his friends, continued his challenge. “So …?”
“
So,
is it?” Chance barked. “The question ye should ask yerself right now then, lad, is do ye wish to spend the rest of the week in a hospital … so … do ye?”
The American pulled a face, took half a step back, and dropped Royce’s wrist. “Well, didn’t know she was with you …” he said gruffly.
Royce was furious with Chance. He should have allowed her to handle the situation. She had been in no danger at anytime, and it was absurd of him to come off all bully-like.
Did he not think she was capable of handling such minor situations? It was infuriating. She could have extricated herself quietly and in the style she preferred without the entire pub looking on.
She stared hard at Chance and would have then stomped off before him to their table had he not immediately taken her hand and put it to his lips to lead her forward. She stiffened but did not wish to make any further scene, so she allowed him to gently guide her to their table and see her seated.
She meant to read him the riot act, but hunger won out when the waitress arrived laden with a huge tray of delicious-smelling food and started distributing it.
The pretty waitress bent very close to Chance’s face, apparently unconcerned that her unbuttoned shirt had allowed a good deal of her breasts to show as she brought her bosom close to his lips.
Royce’s mouth dropped, for Chance looked up at the pretty’s face and winked at her as he took a long dreg of his Guinness. Royce wanted to throw something wet and sticky at them both.
However, she maintained her composure, and when the waitress wiggled off with both Trevor and Chance staring after her, she cleared her throat and said, “You are both disgusting!”
Trevor and Chance exchanged ‘looks’ and laughed, and Royce applied herself to her food. However, when the waitress returned with her ketchup, she gave it to Chance, bent to him, and said softly, “I get off m’shift at nine … and I don’t live far from here …”
Royce wanted to kick her, but settled for saying, “Sorry—he is busy this evening.” She gave the waitress a crooked smile that, woman-to-woman, she would understand.
The waitress took it good naturedly and said with an inclination of her head, “What about this one? He’s hot too …”
“Is he?” said Royce with a laugh.
“Well then, what about ye, handsome … are ye busy this evening?” the pretty pursued.
Trevor grinned and answered gallantly, “Too bad for me that I am, pretty lady …”
The waitress pouted and once again left them to their meal, which Royce dived into, wondering why she should care who Chance winked at. It occurred to her that he had never winked at her …
For a few moments all three were busy eating their meals and sipping their drinks. Royce finally gave up thinking about how many women Chance had probably had. Instead, she busied herself with lathering ketchup onto her chips and then licked the ketchup off before she ate one.
It was then that Chance put his drink down and watched her eat with an odd look in his eyes. Suddenly he got their attention with, “Well then, ’tis time ye knew that the Fallen Druid wasn’t always evil.”
Royce plopped a chip in her mouth and motioned with her hand for him to continue. Trevor knew better and sat back to wait.
Chance didn’t smile as he added, “His woman was taken by a neighboring clan—thugs they were. The leader of that clan wanted her and took her by force—raped her. She was a frail thing and thought she had brought shame to her husband. She killed herself.”
“Oh … how awful,” Royce said in a hushed voice.
“Aye then, all that was done before he could conjure enough white magic to save her—to get into their stronghold, which had been protected by black magic. I doona know if ye ken what it is for a man to know his woman is being … hurt and not be able to save her. And then, by her own hand, she was gone. She was the one woman in all the world that he adored, and his thoughts turned dark.” Chance shook his head. “I knew him then—we were friends of a sort. I … understood him.” He shrugged and took a long gulp of his Guinness. “He lost all semblance of himself. He went on a killing spree using black magic, and it sucked him in deeper each day as he put that clan, one by one, to death.”
Trevor said quietly, “I can feel what he felt …”
“Of course ye can, but that is just it—black magic plays on that, draws ye in, and then owns ye.” He took a moment, and both Trevor and Royce waited until he started again. “As it happens there is a clan—a good clan, the MacCleans—dear friends to your Fae Prince Breslyn, who decided he posed a threat to them. They requested Breslyn’s help to defeat him and end the Fallen Druid’s tormented life.”
“Yes, but Breslyn is a Fae—we don’t kill humans …” Trevor frowned.
“No, but he trained his friends the MacCleans. He showed them how they might be able to defeat the black magic the Fallen Druid lived by, and once that black sorcery was defeated, it was the MacCleans that would do the rest.”
“Sad … all sad …” Royce whispered.
“Aye, considering what the man suffered, but necessary in the end, for he lost sight of the innocents.” Chance leaned back against his hardwood chair.
“And this Peckering—how did he have it?” Royce asked.
“You should know this. It is a part of Fae history. The Peckering is a Hallow with powers of Light and Dark. It had been given to the Fallen Druid’s ancestors to keep safe for the Seelie Queen when it appeared the Dark King might use time in a manner that might cause … problems. However, the Fallen Druid used the Peckering unwisely to gain Dark powers before he died. It was not meant to be used in such a pattern, and in the end, unable to make it do what he wished, he hid it away. It was never found.”
“Why have I never heard this story?” Trevor asked, shaking his head. He looked around and saw the waitress, who winked at him. He frowned and said, “Don’t bother calling on her. I’ll just get us three more pints from the bar.”
“Hmm, and some cheese, Trevor …” Royce called after him and turned back to Chance. “I don’t know how we are supposed to find something that has been missing for centuries.”
He took a chip off her plate, dipped it generously in ketchup, and put it to her lips. “I noticed you like a bottle of ketchup with your chips …” He smiled.
Bold—he was always so bold.
Outrageous, considering that he knew she was still annoyed with him.
Just what did he think he was doing? Was he flirting with her?
She allowed him to feed her, accepting the challenge. Without hesitation she slowly, suggestively sucked the chip into her mouth, and her eyes never wavered from his oh so blue, deep blues.
What she saw in the depths of his eyes sent a shiver through her.
* * *
Chance silently berated himself. He was letting this Fae beauty get to him. He was walking around with a damn hard-on all the time, and just now when he looked into her eyes, he thought he might go off! What was wrong with him? He wasn’t a youth to be so shaken by a beauty! He had been with more beautiful women than he even wanted to think about, but this wee lass, this Seelie Fae did something to his insides. He found himself thinking about her when she wasn’t near. He found himself hanging on every word she said, and when he saw that young lad … touch her, he couldn’t believe the jealousy that came over him.