Bedeviled (4 page)

What if something had followed her?

God.
What if it planned to eat her and then get Eileen?

No way.

Nobody was going to mess with her niece. Poor old boring Joe was one thing. But Eileen was just a kid—and, until Nora got home,
hers
to protect.

She couldn’t just stand here in front of an open refrigerator for the rest of her life, Maggie told herself firmly. Eileen notwithstanding, it was damn cold. So she did the only thing she could think of: She reached in, grabbed the brand-new, unopened gallon jug of milk and spun around abruptly, ready to swing that heavy jug at . . . a
hunk
?

“Holy hot guy, Batman.”

“What?”

She’d scream in a minute or so, but first . . . wow. Even his deep voice was gorgeous. His gaze met hers, and Maggie felt something almost electric zap through her like a lightning bolt. Then it was gone again, as though somebody had turned off her switch. Just as well. She really didn’t need another man at the moment. Especially one who looked like a pirate right off the cover of a romance novel. And, let’s not forget . . . a
burglar
.

“Get out,” she ordered, but her voice came out in a strangled whisper.

He frowned at her, and even frowning, he was the kind of guy women probably tossed their bras and panties at. Her hormones did a quick two-step before she smacked them back into line. It wasn’t easy.

He was tall enough that his head nearly hit the ceiling. His long black hair framed a face that looked tough and mean and sort of familiar somehow. Which was weird, because if she’d ever run into this guy before, she sooo would have remembered. He was wearing a dark green shirt tucked into brown suede pants. His knee-high, dark brown leather boots were flat soled and were stitched with what looked like gold thread. Around his waist there was a wide leather belt with a
knife
sheathed in a scabbard.

Okay, gorgeous and clearly dangerous.

But it was his eyes that grabbed her. They were pale, pale green. The eyes she’d seen when those visions had raced through her mind earlier.

“What the hell is going on with me today?”

“Maggie Donovan?”

“How do you know me? How’d you get in here?” Cold air was still wafting out from behind her, sending a chill over her backside that seeped right down into her bones. Weird, because there was a wall of heat coming from her gorgeous intruder that was blasting her from the front.

Could she simultaneously combust and freeze?

“We must talk,” he told her. “It’s your time.”

“My time? My time for what? No, never mind. Don’t want to know. Just get out. I have a dog. . . .” Just where the hell was her dog, anyway? “She doesn’t like intruders. She’ll bite your ass.”
Hmm.
Hormone issues again. Her grip on the milk jug tightened, and she really hoped she didn’t break it before she could use it like a weapon.

“You talk too much.”

“Thanks so much for your input. Maybe you didn’t hear me tell you to get out. I’ve got a silent alarm that goes directly to the police station.” Yes, a lie, but Maggie wasn’t very concerned about playing fair with an intruder. “They’re probably on the way right now, so don’t even try to hurt me.”

“I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help you.”

“Oh, I bet you tell that to all your victims.”

“Can’t you be silent?”

“Why should I be? It’s my house, and you’re awfully snotty for a pretty burglar.”

“Snotty?” He snarled the word. “Do you know who I
am
?”

“No. That’s the point. I don’t know who the hell you are, or why you’re in my house or even why my dog isn’t here chewing on you!”

“I’ve never known a female like you.”

“Am I supposed to care?” she snapped. Her gaze whipped around the kitchen as she wondered if the walls were somehow shrinking. He seemed to be taking up a lot of space. “You need to get the hell out of my house.”

He planted both hands on his hips and braced those incredibly long legs of his wide apart.
Damn
.

“I felt the power shift this morning. It’s finally happened, and it’s time for you to accept your destiny.”

She shook her head. “Are you serious? A burglar wants to talk about my destiny? I don’t have a destiny. I’m pretty much a destiny-free zone.”

“Burglar?” he repeated, fury filling his features with a dark red flush that only made his eyes look paler, more haunting. “You believe I’m a thief?”

“What’m I supposed to think? I didn’t invite you in. Yet here you are, and you’re carrying a
knife
.” Maybe she shouldn’t have brought that up.

“You insult me.”

“Oh, I insulted
you
?” Maggie muttered, then told herself to stop talking to the man. Did she really want to go out of her way to anger an armed intruder? Was that really the wise choice here?

“You try me, Maggie Donovan.”

“No, thanks.”

He frowned again, and she noticed how easily his features shifted into that expression.

“I will start again. I’ve come to talk to you. It’s your time, and you must—”

“The only
must
around here is you leaving. I don’t have to talk to you. Who the hell are you?”

“I am—”

“And what do you mean, my time?” Her arm was starting to hurt with the weight of the gallon milk jug dragging on her. But she couldn’t put it down.
Some
kind of weapon was better than nothing.

“If you could stop talking for a moment, I could explain—”

“Explain what? How I wandered into the Twilight Zone? I don’t think so. You’re a part of this screwy mess somehow, aren’t you? So why would I listen to you? And by the way, why do you have a knife, and how did you get in here anyway? What the
hell
is happening to me?”

“Maggie?” Eileen’s voice.

Instantly the gorgeous giant spun around, going into a deep crouch and pulling the knife at his belt free all in one fluid motion.

Maggie saw light glitter dangerously on the silver blade and did the first thing that popped into her mind: She swung the milk jug in a wide arc and slammed it into the back of the guy’s head.

He dropped like a stone. Milk erupted into a geyser as the plastic shattered, and the white wave coated her, him, and splashed across Eileen’s face as well.

“Wow,” her niece said, smiling at her with pride as she wiped milk from her face. “That was amazing. Who’s he?”

“I don’t know.” But now that he was unconscious, Maggie took her first steady breath in quite a while. Still, she had to admit that even out cold and covered in milk, he was quite the honey. Too bad he was some kind of criminal.

Maggie was still shaking when her less-than-alert “watchdog,” Sheba, a golden retriever who’d never met a snack she didn’t want, sauntered into the room, walked up to the fallen giant and began to lick the milk off his face.

“Oh,” Maggie told her, “thanks so much for your help.”

Culhane woke up to find himself tied into a chair, with Maggie Donovan and a child looking down at him. A yellow dog was stretched out atop his feet.

He couldn’t even recall the last time he’d been taken down in a battle. And yet this one mortal woman had done just that. Not only had she caught him unaware, but she’d knocked him out and tied him up. She was definitely ready to answer the call of fate.

Taking a breath, he shook his still-wet hair back from his face and accused, “You hit me.”

“You pulled a knife on my niece! Not to mention the whole breaking-and-entering thing,” she pointed out, dropping one arm around the girl, who’d come to the door behind him unnoticed.

Bad enough that he’d been so distracted by this woman that he hadn’t heard the child’s approach. But to have this female insinuate that he would have harmed the girl was an insult he would not accept.

Culhane glared at her. “I am a Fenian warrior for the Fae of Otherworld. I do
not
harm children.”

She blinked at him. “You’re a
what
for
who
?”

“Fae,” the girl said, nudging her aunt with an elbow even as she looked at Culhane with sharper interest. “Isn’t that like Faeries?”

“Oh,” Maggie murmured, looking at him a little differently. “Now, that’s a shame.”

Culhane muttered a curse.

“What’s a Fenian, though?”

“We don’t care,” Maggie told her.

Still feeling the insult and the humiliation of his situation, Culhane ignored the interplay between the two females and looked at the girl. Her eyes were wide and interested, but there was more there, too, he thought. A stillness. A watchfulness. And temper, along with a courage that outmatched her years. That he understood and admired. He met that young gaze and gave her a formal nod. “I wouldn’t have harmed you.”

She studied him for a long moment or two, and Culhane waited for her to make up her mind about him. Finally she shrugged and said, “It’s okay. I believe you.”

“Well, I don’t,” her aunt said, and Culhane’s gaze slid back to the woman who was the reason for his presence in this place.

There was temper in her eyes, as well. He found it less admirable in her than in her niece.

“You try my patience,” he said, glaring at Maggie.

“Hah! You’re the intruder here, Sparky.”

“Are you really a Faery?” the girl asked.

“Fae. I am Fae,” he said.

“Picky, picky . . .”

He scowled at Maggie again.

“Then I’m kind of sorry I called the police,” the child said, and he shifted his glance to her. The younger Donovan seemed much more reasonable than her aunt. Besides, he admired strength wherever he found it, so he nodded at the girl.

“Don’t be. You did what you should.”

“They’ll be here any minute,” Maggie told him.

“I won’t be here when they arrive.” He let his gaze move up and down the length of the woman who was foretold to be the hope of Otherworld and felt something quicken inside him. Her clothing didn’t exactly mark her as the savior of a race. Her jeans were paint spattered, but clung to her long legs and hugged every curve. Her shirt was ridiculous, but he enjoyed the way it displayed her full breasts. Her hair was a deep red with threads of gold brightening the darkness. Her eyes were blue, her mouth was full and, at the moment, curled into a sneer that he found offensive. Yet there was more here. He felt the crackle of energy in the air and wondered if she did, too—or was she still too human?

Despite what his body might want, though, he wasn’t here for sex. She was the promised one, gods help him.

To think it had come to this: a Fae warrior requiring the help of a mortal female. It was almost enough to convince him that perhaps prophecies weren’t all they were supposed to be. But even as that thought formed, he reminded himself that she’d shown him no fear. She had strength, courage. Everything she would need.

The fact that he could spring from these ropes in an instant was meaningless. She had bested him. For the moment.

She had actually managed to not only incapacitate him, however briefly, but surprise him as well, humiliating as it was to admit.

The sneer she was giving him intensified, and Culhane felt his chest swell with indignation. Who was she to look at him as though he were no better than a good-for-nothing pixie? He was an elite warrior of the Fae, and no one in centuries had treated him with so little respect. She might be the hope of Otherworld, but without his assistance she was only fodder for the enemies she didn’t even know existed yet.

“Won’t be here, huh? Just how were you planning to get out of those ropes?” Maggie tipped her head to one side and let her sugary sweet tone and self-satisfied smile tell him what she thought of him. “Eileen tied them, and she learned knots from the Girl Scouts. Trust me when I say those girls know a little something about—”

“Enough of this.” Culhane shifted while she was speaking, sliding his body from one dimension to another and back again. With the shift, the ropes binding him came loose and dropped to the floor. He stood up, nudged the sleeping dog off his feet and looked at the woman who was at the heart of his troubles. “Ropes can’t hold me.”

“Well, shit.” She stopped, glanced at the child and corrected herself. “Shoot.”

“That was very cool.” The girl was looking at Culhane with renewed interest. “Like magic or something.”

“Back up, Eileen. Stay away from this guy.” Maggie tried to shove the girl behind her, but Eileen wasn’t going willingly.

“I’ve told you I won’t harm you or the child,” Culhane said again.

“Well, sure, if a burglar gives you his word, why wouldn’t you believe him? Forgive me for not trusting the guy who broke into my house.”

“I didn’t break in,” he told her. “I shifted. Just as you saw.”

“Really?” Eileen prompted. “You can go through walls and stuff?”

“I can.”

“Whoa.”

The wail of sirens sounded in the distance, and irritation crowded Culhane’s chest until he could hardly draw a breath. This was not how their meeting was to have gone. The woman was too distracted to listen to him. Her world was crowded and noisy, and apparently she had yet to come to terms with what had happened to her today.

Now, with the human authorities arriving, Culhane was forced to leave before anything had been settled. Yet more irritation. “I have no time for your police.”

“They’ll probably want you to make time.” Maggie kept a tight grip on the girl.

Eileen was still shaking her head in awe. “Did you see that, Maggie? He, like, poofed right in front of us. And the knots are still tied. That was so great. Way cooler than that magician we watched on TV last month.”

“Do you still have the pendant?” Culhane ignored the child and concentrated instead on the woman he’d come to see. As he watched, the blood drained from her face and her eyes became a dark, deep, troubled blue.

“What do you know about that?”

“What pendant?” Eileen demanded.

“Do you have it?”

“No,” she said. “It was broken. I left it.”

“What pendant?” Eileen repeated. “And where’d you leave it?”