Bedeviled (30 page)

“I knew you’d come,” he said. “I’ve waited.”

“Who are you?” She couldn’t tear her gaze from him. Didn’t want to.

He didn’t answer, only smiled again. His fingers stroked her cheeks, as if he needed the touch as badly as she did. Then he dipped his head, claimed one sweet, soft kiss, and whispered, “Someday.”

She came up out of the memories feeling as shaken as she had that long-ago day. Maggie hadn’t thought of that morning-bright kiss in years. She hadn’t wanted to remember, because for years no other guy had been able to hold a candle to that Irish boy with fire in his touch and summer in his smile.

Now she looked up at Culhane and saw the face of that boy in the features of the man. “It was you.”

“It was,” he told her. “I’d waited for you and then you were there, with sunlight in your hair and meadow flowers all around you. I had to speak to you. Touch you.”

Shaken, Maggie stepped back and away from him. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

Culhane felt her confusion and thought that it was far better than her anger. As the storm continued to grow around them he saw only her. Just as he had then. “I’ve been near you since your birth. Keeping you safe. Watching you grow. Waiting for your time to come. For the prophecy to be fulfilled. The time is here, Maggie, and we must work together or none of us will have a future.”

She scraped her hands over her face, rubbed her eyes, then scooped her fingers through her soaking-wet hair before looking at him warily. “I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.”

“That’s it?” she countered. “Just ‘I know’?”

“What more would you have me say?” Culhane felt a stirring of anger himself and thought, not for the first time, that Maggie Donovan was the only female he’d ever known who could inspire such wild swings of emotions within him. “I can’t change my past, not even for you, and even if I could, I wouldn’t. What I’ve done has made me who I am. Made you who
you
are.”

“You’re still having sex with Mab.”

He sighed. “I don’t
want
Mab. I want only you.”

She whirled around, tearing her gaze from his to stare out at the storm-tossed sea. “I don’t know if that helps or not.”

He moved up behind her but didn’t touch her. Couldn’t risk it. He wanted to taste her again, as he had so long ago. Wanted to lose himself in the scent of her, in her touch, her body. But he couldn’t risk that. Not yet. Not when they were so close to their goal.

“This is your destiny, Maggie.”

“I don’t want it.”

Her words were faint, sliding just beneath the sound of the storm. “You would be foolish if you did.”

She glanced at him briefly, then looked back to the sweep of sea and storm clouds.

“Neither of us has a choice in this, and I will do everything I can to see that you succeed. Your destiny and mine are intertwined. As you were meant for this, so were you meant for
me
.”

She laughed shortly. “I don’t know that I want that, either.”

Now he smiled, though she couldn’t see it. “Yes, you do.” He laid his hands on her shoulders and felt the rush of power inside her. “We are a team, Maggie, you and I.”

“Some team,” she said, narrowing her eyes as she looked over her shoulder at him. “You lie to me and just expect me to fall in line.”

“I explained that.”

“Doesn’t change the facts, Culhane. Where’s Nora?”

“What?” The abrupt shift of topic threw him for a moment. “You know where she is. Otherworld.”

“With Quinn.”

“Where she will stay until this is done.”

“You mean until I do what you want.”

“Know that Nora’s safer where she is than she would be here. If Mab finds out about you she won’t hesitate to kill you, as well as your sister.”

She opened her mouth to ask a question, and he answered it before she could.

“Remember, Eileen is safe. I have told you, even Mab doesn’t approve of killing children.”

Maggie blew out a breath. “So the Evil Queen has standards. Okay, good to know. But Nora’s been with Quinn for months in your world. How do I know she’s safe? Or happy?”

A half smile pulled at one corner of his mouth, but there was no answering smile on her face.

“It’s Quinn you should be concerned about,” he said, hoping to take that flash of worry from her eyes. “He’s half in love with her and forgets about his duties as a warrior to spend more time with Nora. And,” he added, to get a spark of interest out of Maggie, “as for her being happy, I’ve been told that sex with a Faery is an amazing experience for a human.”

Something flashed briefly in her eyes. Then she swallowed hard and said, “Uh. Great. Good for Nora. Glad somebody’s having a good time.”

Fog twisted and slithered up across the rocks, lifting from the sea, writhing with the wind, covering the stones, the path and reaching out for the two who stood together, yet separate. Seconds ticked past, the sea and the storm crashing around them as the cold crept closer.

A sense of something dark, cloying, caught Culhane’s attention, and he turned to see the fog rising, stretching, solidifying. “Maggie . . .”

She looked, too, and inhaled sharply as a being materialized from the wisps of fog. Black holes where eyes should have been and a skeletal suggestion of a face stared at her with a hunger that was raw, undeniable.

“A Gray man,” Maggie whispered, remembering what Bezel had told her about them. The pixie hadn’t even come close to describing what she felt being this close to it.

Culhane moved instinctively to stand between Maggie and the threat.

But she stepped out from behind him, rain sluicing down her face, her body. Her eyes were cold and hard, though, her features set in unforgiving lines as she stared at the Fae that twisted and writhed in the wind. “Bezel told me about them,” she said softly. “Said they were creepy.”

As if in answer, the fog-shrouded creature shimmied closer to her, reaching out with wispy tentacles that looked all the more menacing for their fragile appearance. The closer it came, the colder she felt, a bone-deep iciness that crept through her veins, settled in her soul and seemed to leach out every drop of warmth inside her.

“You,” it whispered, and the voice was as thready as the body. “I come for you.”

Maggie’s heart raced in her chest. Her mouth went dry, and the cold wrapping itself around her made her feel as if her bones were brittle enough to snap.

“Go,” Culhane told it, his strength, his authority ringing in his tone. “Go now and live.”

He seemed unaffected by the Fae, and Maggie was desperately jealous. But, she reasoned, if Culhane could withstand this thing’s powers, so could she. She focused, calling on all of the bits and pieces she’d learned over the last couple of weeks. She remembered Bezel’s taunts, Finn’s quiet teachings and Culhane’s absolute belief in her.

“No,” Maggie told the warrior beside her, never taking her gaze from her enemy. “No, it came for me. Let it try.”

It did, sweeping across the few feet of space separating them like mist in a nightmare. No substance. No sound. Just a nameless threat and the deepening cold. It spilled across the jetty, wrapping itself around the rocks, reaching for her as the black eyes in the mist glittered eerily in the darkness. Needles of rain hammered at them, yet the mist survived, and a sly sigh of sound became whispered threats that rode just above the thunder of the sea.

“I won’t let you win,” Maggie said, stepping away from Culhane, her gaze fixed on the insubstantial creature stalking her.

In the dark, rain-shrouded air, the wisps of its arms shredded, came together and faded again. Each time it was closer to her, and Maggie held her breath, preparing for the moment when the thing would actually touch her.

Culhane stood nearby. Watching.

Maggie was determined to prove herself. She’d fought demons and lived. Trained to fight a queen. If she couldn’t fight and win against a Fae, then she stood no chance at all against Mab.

In the embrace of the wind she lifted her arms. Her gaze locked on her enemy, her mouth tight, she allowed those gray threads to touch her, to wrap themselves around her.

That icy touch was a living nightmare as Maggie’s mind shrieked away from the sensations pouring into her. Terror. Emptiness. Death. She swayed with the impact of the emotions slamming into her and held on to the tattered edges of sanity with a tight grip.

This was worse than a fight. This was more than pain. This was the end of everything. Mind shattering, soul draining, she felt the Gray man’s triumph and fought her way back from the edge of madness. The soft sigh of a disembodied laugh whispered into the wind, and Maggie answered.

She struggled to find her voice, her will. Locking her knees, she stiffened her spine and forced herself to meet the black gaze that was like a void. “You won’t win. I won’t let you.”

Surprise flashed briefly in those empty depths, and Maggie knew she’d already beaten it.

“You won’t scare me off, fog boy, and you won’t kill me, either. Not tonight.” She pulled her power to her, wrapped it around the cold within and smothered it. Lightning erupted from her fingertips, and she let the power flow. Bolts of blue and white shone and flashed with a near-blinding brightness. Those bolts stabbed at the ethereal creature, and it twisted in on itself before fighting back. Energy pulsed darkly, radiating off the Fae in shades of gray and black that were swallowed and shattered by the light pumping from Maggie’s fingertips.

It slid farther away then, trying to slink back into the foggy mist atop the water.

But Maggie followed, moving in, never hesitating. Again and again she used her power, her strength, her confidence to beat back the threat, and pride filled Culhane’s throat and heart as he watched.

When a reedy scream echoed out around them and the last of the fog dissolved, Maggie stood like a warrior at the edge of the sea. The wind tore at her, the rain drove at her, yet she stood as steady as the rocks beneath her feet.

It was then Culhane knew she was more than even he’d thought she could be.

Maggie slowly turned her head to look at him. She dragged in a breath, blew it out, and said, “I’m a little shaky, Culhane. But I’m still standing.”

“You are,” he said. “You did well.”

“I did, didn’t I?” She turned to look out at the ocean and added, “I’ll probably never look at fog the same way again, though.”

“You fought past your fear.” Culhane moved closer but didn’t touch her. He sensed her fragility despite the aura of strength still clinging to her. “I know what a Gray man can do. The welling pool of emptiness they can open inside you.”

“It was awful,” she whispered, not looking at him. “I actually thought about screaming,
help!
But now I’m glad I didn’t.” Finally she turned to meet his gaze as she said, “I think I needed to prove something to myself—and to you.”

Culhane understood. “You did. Now you see what you can do. What you are destined to do.”

“So why,” she asked, “aren’t I filled with satisfaction?”

“Maggie—”

“The Gray man is Fae.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“So, lots of different-looking Fae,” she said.

“As in any race,” Culhane admitted, “the Fae come in many forms and sizes.”

Something suddenly occurred to Maggie. “How’d that thing know to attack me? If he knows, doesn’t Mab?”

Culhane shook his head. “No. Not yet. The Gray man was here when we arrived. He only sensed your power because you were nearby.”

Nodding, she swallowed hard and said, “Okay. That’s good. You know, Bezel did warn me that some of the Fae wouldn’t be happy to see me in Otherworld.”

“He was right. There are some Fae who remain loyal to Mab no matter what.”

“And there are more like him? It? Whatever?”

“Many more,” he said softly.

“So basically,” Maggie said, as that jittery feeling she’d had while fighting roared to life again in the pit of her stomach, “I’m not going to know whom I can trust, right?”

“Me, Maggie,” Culhane said. “You can trust me.”

She looked at him, and though her heart screeched at her to walk into his arms, her mind held her back. If she was going to get out of this, she would need Culhane’s help, she knew. But she was also going to have to stand on her own two feet. Make some hard calls on her own and hope they were the right ones. She wanted to trust him—but that was all she could give him for now.

“Where’ve you been?” Nora rushed to Quinn the moment he shifted into his apartment in the Warriors’ Conclave. She’d been alone for what felt like hours. And she didn’t like it. Alone, she had too much time to think. To worry. To realize that it had been
months
since she’d seen her little girl.

It didn’t matter that Quinn kept reminding her that only days had passed in the mortal world, and that Eileen had hardly had time to notice she was gone. For Nora it was months. And she missed Eileen desperately. Yes, fine, having an amazing Faery lover keep her captive in his fabulous tree-house apartment had its appeal. But she was a
mother
, for God’s sake. And it was time she got back to it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, wrapping his thick, strong arms around her and holding her close. “There was a battle in the streets. We were called out to stop it.”

“Battle?” Every other thought was pushed aside momentarily as Nora stared up at him, running her hands up and down his chest, his arms, as if looking for wounds. “Are you okay? Who were you fighting? You’re not hurt?”

He smiled, and everything in Nora turned over and shook itself silly. “I am unhurt, Nora. I’m a warrior. This is what I’m trained to do. And the Fae are immortal, remember?”

Yes, she did. They’d had plenty of time to talk . . . well, when they weren’t in bed . . . and he’d told her a lot about the life of the Fae. “Yes, you’re immortal. Unless someone comes along and chops off your head or something.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Even if it doesn’t, you could be hurt. Injured.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“Who were you fighting?”

“Male Fae were protesting in front of the palace. Mab’s women came out to drive them away and the war raged.” He shook his head as if he still didn’t believe what he’d seen himself. “Never in all my years have I seen a male Fae take arms against a female.”