Beguiled (9 page)

“You should have told me, Maggie,” Nora said, more quietly now. “He’s
family
.”

More than temper, there was hurt in Nora’s voice and Maggie cringed to hear it.

“I’m sorry, Nor. Really. But”—she looked at her grandFae again—“why are you here?”

“To meet my family, of course,” he said, waving both arms expansively. “I would have come sooner, but I didn’t want to intrude.”

“Sooner,” Maggie repeated, and thought to herself,
You’ve had more than thirty years to drop by. Why now?
And all of a sudden intruding was okay? What had changed? What had motivated this surprise visit? Why was she so suspicious of a Fae she’d never seen before?

“Of course,” he told her, moving out from the table to walk across the room toward her. His smile was wide and bright, his eyes shining with sincerity and his arms were open, still inviting an embrace she hadn’t given him.

“You’re the Queen now, Maggie,” he soothed, his voice nearly musical. “I didn’t want to be in the way. I thought to wait until you had settled in before . . . reac quainting myself with my loved ones.”

Loved ones. Maggie shot a look at Bezel and saw the pixie’s eyes roll so far back in his head, they practically disappeared. She knew just how he felt. Jasic was smooth and charming and handsome, and Maggie didn’t feel a thing toward him.

Should she, though? Weren’t feelings for family grown and nurtured? Should you really be able to meet a stranger, think, “Oh, he’s my grandfather,” and turn on the affection? She didn’t think so.

“Isn’t that wonderful?” Nora said, sniffling a little as she wiped away a stray tear. “So thoughtful. Putting you first, Mags. He’s been so brave. And so lonely.”

Jasic’s features slid easily into a sorrowful expression as he wrapped Maggie in a hug she didn’t feel completely comfortable with.

While he held her, Nora kept talking. “He didn’t come back before, because he didn’t want to upset Gran and Grandpa’s marriage. And then when they were gone, he saw that we were fine, so he didn’t want to upset us.”

“A real giver,” Bezel muttered.

Again, Maggie had to agree, but couldn’t really say so, since her face was currently buried in her grandFae’s shirtfront. She and Nora hadn’t been fine, after all. Nora had been married to a bona fide creep and Maggie had been struggling with her own sense of loneliness. No family nearby until Nora had divorced and moved home. If Jasic had shown up then, she might have welcomed him as he so clearly expected to be now.

But things were different these days. She had more company than she knew what to do with and a grandFae showing up out of nowhere was really more trouble than blessing.

Boy, she wished her best friend, Claire, were around. A psychic and a witch, Claire might have been able to get a vision telling Maggie exactly what Jasic wanted. But was there ever a witch around when you needed one? No. So she’d have to handle this situation on her own.

Jasic patted Maggie’s back as she tried to pull free.

“He came now,” Nora was saying as she walked to join them, “because he wants to know us. To be part of our family. He’s tired of being alone, Maggie.”

Jasic lifted one arm to draw Nora close, too. He held them both as Nora finished.

“He thinks Gran would have wanted him to be with us.”

Maybe, but they’d never know for sure, would they? Maggie managed to squirm free and then stepped away from the group hug before Nora could start singing “Kum ba yah” or something. Maggie idly wondered whether she would have been this cynical a few weeks ago, then assured herself that yes, she would have been. Why was Jasic tired of being alone
now
?

Could it possibly be because his granddaughter was the Queen? Maybe he had hopes for a nice retirement or whatever in the palace? A quiet, more reasonable voice in her head asked, did it matter? Would it kill her to be nice? To help him out? No, she told herself, it wouldn’t. But she couldn’t help wondering why GrandFae was all of a sudden so lonesome for family.

“Um, Aunt Maggie?” Eileen’s voice was quiet, hesitant. “Jasic—he said I could call him that—knows lots of stuff about Great-Gran and Otherworld, and he said he could help Mom and me get used to things over there, since we’ll probably be there a lot now that Quinn wants Mom to stay there until she has the baby and all and—”

Maggie took an instinctive breath, as always impressed with just how many thoughts Eileen could cram into one sentence.

“I’m not moving to Otherworld,” Nora said, easing away from Jasic to face Maggie. “Quinn can’t force me to, can he? I mean, you’re his Queen and everything. . . .”

“Force? Quinn? Otherworld?” Maggie felt as though she’d been dropped into a conversation that had been going on for hours. Nothing was making sense.

Jasic chuckled and Maggie scowled. She’d been working all day, had come home to get sideswiped by a grandfather she’d never known and now Quinn wanted to kidnap Nora to Otherworld?
Again?

Just a couple of weeks ago, Quinn Terhune, Fae Warrior, had swept Nora off to Otherworld—at Culhane’s orders—to force Maggie to fight and defeat Queen Mab. Weeks had gone by in Faery time while only a couple of days had passed here, but the point was, Nora had been Quinn’s prisoner—though she had come back happy and pregnant—and Maggie wasn’t going to allow that to happen again.

“What’re you taking about?” she asked, despite the headache currently setting up shop behind her right eye.

Nora jammed her hands at her hips. “Quinn thinks it would be safer for me to be at his place in Faeryland until I have the baby, but I don’t want to go.”

“So don’t,” Maggie told her, and idly scratched at the drying paint on her forearm. “He can’t make you and if he tries, I’ll stop him.” She wasn’t sure how yet, but being Queen had to have some advantages, right?

“See?” Jasic cooed, giving Nora a comforting pat. “As I told you. The Queen will not allow your warrior to abduct you.”

“Good,” Nora said. “That’s good.”

“Great.” Maggie moved away from all of them, stepping back into the hall. She really needed some space. Both physical and mental. She wasn’t at all sure how she felt about Jasic showing up and she needed some time to think about it. “Now, I’m going to go take a shower and maybe have dinner.”

“Fine,” Jasic told her, still smiling that wide, I’m-so-wonderful-don’t-you-just-love-me smile. “We’ll be here.”

Maggie sighed. There wouldn’t be any relaxing after dinner, then. Shifting a look to Bezel, she asked,“What’re we having tonight?”

Bezel snorted and slid a furious glance at Jasic. “Your Fae grandfather wouldn’t let me cook.”

“Of course not. Pixie food?” Jasic shuddered. “Surely we can do better than that. I’ll get something at a local restaurant.”

“Not like I
enjoy
cooking for a bunch of humans, you know. I’ll be in my tree if you need me.” Bezel shifted in place, disappearing in an insulted huff.

And Maggie, as much as Bezel annoyed her, was feeling surprisingly protective of the ugly little guy. “Bezel’s a good cook.”

“He’s a pixie,” her grandFae explained. “We don’t really . . . associate with his kind.” Then he backpedaled, clearly noting the less-than-pleased expression on Maggie’s face. “Of course, there are exceptions,” he said smoothly. “I’m sure Bissel has been very helpful.”

“Bezel,” Eileen pointed out before Maggie could.

“Of course. But for now,” Jasic urged, turning Maggie around and giving her a push down the hall, “why don’t you clean up and I’ll take care of my girls tonight?”

She hadn’t taken two steps out of the room before the chatter rose up again. Jasic’s laughter. Nora’s happy chuckle. Eileen’s excited questions.

His
girls. Funny, Maggie thought as she headed toward the zigzag stairs. He hadn’t cared about
his
girls until one of them turned up wearing a crown. But whatever, Maggie told herself as she headed up the series of tiny steps that led to her bedroom. She’d figure out what to do about Jasic later.

Laughter followed her down the hall, niggling at the back of her brain. It seemed that Nora and Eileen had already decided to accept Jasic at face value. But then, they could. They didn’t have to worry about conspiracies and coincidences and rogue Fae and maybe a grandFae who wasn’t what he claimed to be.

They weren’t the Queen.

Chapter Five

Culhane gathered his most trusted warriors for a meeting within the walls of the palace.

He looked at the five, sliding his gaze from one familiar, steely face to the next. McCulloch, Quinn, Riley, Muldoon and O’Hara. These warriors had been with him for eons and had fought at his side in innumerable battles. Though all of the Fae Warriors were his brothers in arms, these few he would trust with his life. With Maggie’s life.

And so he was.

“The Dullahan are indeed riding again,” he said, remembering the full report McCulloch had delivered only hours ago. His insides fisted, not with fear, but determination. The rogue Fae—even now planning an assault on the walls of their frozen prison, and from there an escape to the mortal world—could not be allowed to succeed.

“And we stand here when we should be fighting?” Muldoon demanded, looking at his fellow warriors, eager to be off.

“We meet here first,” Culhane told him shortly. “To decide the best way to proceed.”

“What says the Queen?” O’Hara spoke up, bracing his fists at his hips and tossing his long black hair back from his face.

“The Queen doesn’t know about this.”

Quinn cleared his throat uneasily, but Culhane watched the faces of the other men. Though it didn’t matter what they thought of his decision, he would rather have their agreement before they faced the Dullahan. And though he knew Quinn felt that Maggie should be told—probably because he was in love with Maggie’s sister and dreaded the drama once this truth was known, he also knew Quinn would support him.

Culhane wasn’t going to involve Maggie in this until it was absolutely necessary. She already dreaded the responsibilities of the throne. To throw an uprising at her now would only undermine his efforts to bring her full-time into Otherworld. He had to manage that soon. Since the night he’d joined her in her dreams, he’d been walking the ragged edge of control. He needed her with him. Needed her to decide to become what they both knew she was destined for.

So as her chief warrior, he would stop this insurrection before it could gain strength and take care of the Queen’s business. As he’d been doing for centuries for Mab. He knew what he was about—and hadn’t this been his plan from the beginning? Get Maggie on the throne and rule at her side? Ease her into ruling by showing her how it was to be done?

Certainly, once she found out about this, she would thank him for his diligence.

“Maggie is in the human world, with worries of her own,” he told his men. “There’s no need to trouble her with this. The Dullahan are still trapped in Casia and we will remove the threat before they escape. Put it down completely. Then I will inform her of what we’ve done.”

Muldoon shifted uneasily. “You have my allegiance, Culhane, as always. But she is the Queen. We serve at her command.”

“Is he not the Chieftain here?” Quinn spoke up, anger flashing in his eyes and vibrating in every inch of his large frame. “Do we sit back and ask the females what we are to do when our duty lies stretched out before us so that even a blind man could choose his path?”

“She is
Queen
,” O’Hara countered in a calm, deliberate voice.

“She is not here,” Riley pointed out companionably.

“I do this not to strip Maggie of power,” Culhane told them all, walking a small, tight circle around them, looking at each of them in turn, “but to show her she has our loyalty. That we stand at her back, ready to defend—even when she cannot be here.”

There were mutterings, but then one of them nodded and soon enough, the others joined. Quinn looked ready for a fight; the warrior fairly bristled with impatience. Clearly, he wished to work out his frustrations with his woman on the battlefield. Culhane knew the others would fight as well. They would stand with him, do as he ordered and quell this uprising before it reached the walls of Otherworld and beyond.

The Dullahan would be broken and resigned once again to remain in Casia, their cold, frozen prison. Even if Culhane had to fight each of the damn things himself.

“Now, who fights with me?” He asked the question in a low, controlled voice that rumbled through the crystalline halls of the palace like a challenge.

As one, the five Fae Warriors slapped one hand to the hilts of their swords.

“We do,” they said together, and Culhane nodded.

“Then we go now.” He shifted, knowing his friends, his brothers, would rematerialize right beside him.