Legend 4 - Free Falling (22 page)

Natural
, I told myself.
Silly, jealous, infantile girl
, I told myself.
He is a male … and even the most faithful male will look at a beautiful female when she is naked, and, even if she is the enemy, she is still an exceptional beauty and …
damn
!

Was that steam rising from the top of my head? Was that steam coming out of my ears and my nostrils … oh yes—
steam.

Morrigu was on her feet and moving towards him. “Shift out,” I said out loud to him. “Now, Danté—get out of there. You came here looking for
me
, so
look for me
!” and then Morrigu had her arms around his middle, she was doing something obscene to his thigh, and damn it all to hell—the screen went blank.
Blank, I tell you.

I banged on the screen and shouted out his name. This couldn’t be happening. Danté wouldn’t dive into the Dark Realm simply to make it with Morrigu. An important part of me knew that. The other part of me was just a crazy, jealous woman.

Rolo said, “Oh-oh.”

“Hush up!”

“I am a Seelie Hallow, and you should want to know my conclusions regarding the evidence we have just witnessed.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“However, if the screen showed you this and shut down at such inauspicious moment, there is a reason.”

“And what would that be?”

“Not sure.”

“Great, Rolo … just great.” I was beyond the ‘reasonable’ stage.

“It means that Danté is very capable of finding his way in the Dark Realm, but Danté, although a Royal, is not Daoine,” said Rolo.

“Yeah, so … he found his way right into Morrigu’s arms.”

“Chances are, Z, that he dove in after you and shifted to where he tracked you. We just came from the palace.”

“And he is looking for me with Morrigu wrapped around him?” I sneered, my brain still not operating in the normal mode. It was out there in loony tunes land with a vivid picture of him and Morrigu repeating itself as though stuck in that position.

“Morrigu, as I recall, was forever wrapping herself around anything that moved,” Rolo offered hesitantly.

I laughed in spite of myself and bit my lip. “Why can’t he track me here?”

“No doubt, it isn’t meant …”

“Why?”

“Because you are here to find your way out and more power along the way.”

“What more?”

“You need to come to grips, Z, with who and what you are.”

“And how do I do that?”

“Let go …”

“No—at least not until I get to Danté.” I shifted back to the palace and the chamber that held Danté and Morrigu.

I arrived in time to hear Danté say seductively, “There are better ways, Morrigu, to accomplish what—”

His lips were near her ear, his hands were on her upper arms, and her
naked breasts
were pressed against his naked middle.

I wanted to throw something at him, but all I had was my death sword. I looked around, grabbed a vase, and flung it with accuracy. It popped him one good one on the forehead, and Morrigu jumped away!

“Having a nice time?” I asked him sweetly.

He rubbed his forehead and frowned as he strode towards me.

“Creep!”
was the only word that came to mind and mouth, and I spat it out just before I shifted back to the TV chamber of the Dark King’s retreat.

Want to see how the Legend began?

Find out in

Prince Prelude—Legend

~ Prologue ~

ACCORDING TO THE humans’
Encyclopedia Britannica
, Fairy is a race of supernatural beings who have magic powers and sometimes meddle in human affairs.

(I must agree, and I meddle more than my brethren.)

It goes on to explain that we are well known in Ireland, Scotland, and Wales and that we are very powerful and sometimes dangerous beings who can be friendly, mischievous, or cruel, depending on our whim. Sadly, it is true.

The human reference advises that we occasionally take human lovers, as the Fae find human sexuality inviting and are drawn to the passion humans possess. However, it cautions, Fae, unlike humans, are immortal. True again.

History has called us the Tuatha Dé Danaan, and we’re also known as the Seelie Fae. I should like you to know more about who we are. You see, the truth is we came long before the written word put us in Ireland at 1000 BC, and we are so much greater than the written word can describe. We are, to a one, quite stunning—and I am even more captivating than my peers. In fact, let me describe myself. I am, Prince Breslyn, last male of the Dagda line, which is one of the four Royal Houses of the Seelie Fae.

If you have read the Legend books, or my first novella, then I need no introduction, but for those of you who haven’t yet read the series, I will give you a brief description of who and what I am.

As I mentioned, I am a Royal Fae Prince of the Tuatha Dé Danaan. I am a Council member (although I rarely attend the boring meetings). I am well over six feet six inches and taller than most male Fae, who are as a race quite unusually tall and warrior built.

My dark blonde hair is long, and I usually slick it back and keep it tethered at the back of my neck with leathers. My eyes are silver, my face chiseled, and I have been described by Fae and human alike as much more than handsome.

I wear a gold torque with the etchings of my Royal House—Dagda—and I like tattoos and wear a band of Celtic knots and ancient runes around my biceps.

What is really important is this: I adore humans, especially female humans.

That gets me into all kinds of trouble with my Queen Aaibhe, who feels that my interactions with humans are a break from our treaty and an infringement on the rules of Fate.

Five hundred years ago I fell in love for the first time with a human. Her name was Chartelle, and we were happy for a time.

When human life and immortal life meet, there is only one conclusion, and when it happens, the one left behind will find himself or herself heartbroken.

We Fae are rumored to lack the equivalent of a human heart. Untrue—I know, because my heart broke, and I grieved and went on missing my Chartelle for centuries.

Those centuries—just about five—were a blur, and had it not been for my young sister and charge, Aida, and her friend Ete, who in later years was appointed to sit on the Council, I think that first depression I felt would not have lifted.

A human friend, one of the MacCleans in fact, said something once to me about ‘time healing’. For me that is totally incorrect: time doesn’t heal per say, but it does dull the pain of loss, a pain that returns in quiet moments when one least expects it to. I was suffering just such a discomfort when visiting the MacCleans in the year 1814 in their home in Scotland. They were entertaining… hosting a thing they called a ‘cotillion’, and I looked across the room and saw
her…

Her name, I was told, was Destinee, and she was exquisite.

In fact, I could not look away. Her long black hair, black as the velvet night sky, was piled in dangling curls around her angelic face. Stars twinkled through the curls. Her heart-shaped countenance was classically beautiful, her eyes almond-shaped and bright blue, her neck long.
By Danu
, I started walking in her direction, thinking that the silk of her form-fitting Regency gown of blue needed to come off—and I was just the one to accomplish the feat.

She looked up, and our eyes met. I can tell you that I saw her catch her breath; I know I was breathing in short spurts of desire. I bent and took her white-gloved hand and brought it up even as I opened the buttons of the glove, found her flesh, and pressed it to my lips.

She blushed, and her lashes lowered. “Sir! I must object…”

“Must you?” I quipped as I started to introduce myself. “My beauty…allow me to intro—”

She cut me off. “Oh, I know who you are, you are Lord Dagda…Breslyn, in fact. Lady MacClean spoke of you to me only this morning.”

“Did she?” I frowned, for although her ladyship and I have been friends for all her life (the MacCleans all know the truth of who I am), I was not sure just what she would tell her female acquaintances.

“Oh, yes…she says that you are the best of all good men.”

As one can imagine, I was much relieved, as I had decided that this beauty and I must get to know one another. “And you have the advantage of me—you know who I am, but I do not know who you are.”

“I am Destinee LaBlanc…”

I must have frowned, for she blushed. I realized she saw I had heard the gossip; I hurriedly tried to put her at ease. “That is a lovely name and suits you.”

“Lady MacClean has been very kind and has offered me a situation here. She, in fact, provided me with the clothes upon my back, for just before my father shot himself to death, he had lost everything…and had even gambled…” She broke off and looked away.

“I know—you needn’t speak of it. Yours is not the shame. It is on him. How a father can offer up his daughter…but Lord MacClean put a stop to it and brought you here to his wife, proving once again the worth of the MacClean clan.”

“Yes, and I am so happy to be able to assist with the children. They are all wonderful…”

I wanted to take her into my arms right at that moment. I wanted to hold her, kiss her, seduce her, and tear the clothing from her delectable body so tat I could ram the hard-on beating in my pants inside her.

I saw at once, however, that she was a delicate flower, and thus, I made up my mind to do something else entirely. I decided to court Destinee LaBlanc.

* * *

The Regency time was an era of fashion, art, culture, and extreme social etiquette. It was also headed for war with Napoleon.

There seemed to be an urgency about the business of hedonism, especially in Brussels, where balls were being given nearly every night in spite of the pending war. And at those balls and soirees, hushed whispers centered on what Wellington was about to do or what information had just escaped the Home Office.

We were removed from the main hub of gossip in Scotland but peripherally interested all the same. I found myself more and more attracted to Destinee as time flew by during my courtship. For the first time in a long time, I wanted the woman, not just the bedding of her. You may ask at some point if I loved her, and to this day, I cannot tell you that I did. I most certainly wanted her…

You may recognize the name Gaiscioch. He plays a major role in the Legend series, and he and I were always at opposite ends of the Council, very much in each other’s way. He was a dear friend of the queen’s, and yet, I had for centuries sensed an evil in him.

I should have known. I should have realized that day when I walked with Destinee in the village and he appeared and bent over her hand demanding an introduction. She seemed…taken with him.

He had not used compulsion on her, and still she seemed to like him. It troubled me. As I drove her home in the MacClean carriage, she said, “He is very striking with that white streak in his hair…and so very handsome.”

“Do you think so?” I felt myself stiffen and wondered how it was that both Fae and human females did not see past Gais’s good looks. He wasn’t even a royal, but even in Faery, he captured Fae hearts. It annoyed the hell out of me.

She laughed, held my arm, and looked up into my eyes. “Not, by any means, as attractive as you, my big handsome Lord Dagda.”

“Why do you never call me Breslyn?” It was a sticking point between us.

“It would not be seemly. I work for the MacCleans.”

“Whatever I wish is seemly,” I answered. “Say my name, Destinee…for I have a desire to hear it on your lips.”

“No, I shall not cross that line.”

“You will say it before this day is done,” I answered, much annoyed with her. I clicked the horses forward and into a faster pace.

But I did not see her the remainder of the day, as she stayed with the children in the schoolroom and then later retired to her own chambers, not even emerging for dinner.

I went to Casey—Lady MacClean—and took her hand. “Walk with me, Cass.”

She fell into step with me as we took a tour of the halls of MacClean and said, “Ah, has she rejected your offer?”

“My offer? No…I didn’t think she was ready, so I did not offer,” I answered, a bit taken aback. “Would she reject it if I were to offer?”

“Yes.” She touched my cheek. “She loves you and thinks you the most handsome man in all of Scotland, but she is
not in love
with you.”

Oddly enough, I was not hurt. I was taken with her and I wanted her, but love? I don’t think I was in love. “I see…”

She laughed and said, “Yes, you do, don’t you…this is not the one, my darling Breslyn. She is but a diversion for you. She intrigues you more than any other female of your acquaintance, but you and I…we both know, she is not the one.”

I grinned; Casey always made me grin. She was full with child and was due any day, and I found her absolutely lovely. “Aye then, but you are, my sweet…”

“What’s that?” Shawn MacClean—a big brute of a Scotsman, Casey’s husband, and one of my dearest friends—shouted out as he came down the hall at us. “I’ll thank ye to get yer grubby hands off m’woman!”

I didn’t know at that moment why Destinee had remained above stairs. I didn’t know that she had a visitor who had decided to hurt us both.

I didn’t know what Gaiscioch had done …

Until the next morning, when Shawn stormed through the castle and grabbed me by the shoulders to exclaim, “Casey is beside herself! Ye must do something, old friend.”

“Anything…what is it?”

“The LaBlanc chit is gone, and she left a note saying that she is off with someone called Gaiscioch.”

“Damnation and bloody hell! I’ll have his neck for this, I will.”

“He is a Fae then?” Shawn asked on a dark look.

“Aye…and for the moment, there be naught we can do…for, Shawn, I fear she went with him of her own free will.” I shook my head. “I saw her face when she met him, and I saw the way she looked at him. He didn’t compel her…but, to leave in this fashion…?”

“He must have compelled her in the end. She would not have gone with him otherwise, would she?”

I wasn’t sure at that point, and so I went with Shawn to her room. There I saw the evidence of their night of lovemaking and imagined the promises he must have made her: life eternal at Faery with him.

However, at that moment, a chambermaid came running at us, screaming for Shawn and advising us that Casey had gone into labor.

I went with him to Casey, but she told us we were devils. That all men were devils forever doing terrible things to women, and that we had better get out while we could, so we did. We ran for the safety of the study and threw down some brandy as fast as we could.

I was hurting though. I may not have been fully in love, deep or otherwise, but she was the woman of my dreams at that point, and both pride and my so-called non-existent heart were taking a beating.

I stayed with the MacCleans for another week and then returned to Faery, where I got word Gaiscioch had a human squirreled away with him at his private retreat. I shook it off. So be it. She had made her bed, so to speak.

* * *

Here was the kicker: Gais had taken her only to get at me. He had her at his retreat, oh yeah, and he used her in every conceivable manner. He tortured her mentally, physically, and in ways I could not bear to think about.
Because of me,
he took this poor human beauty and ruined her for all time.

A month after Destinee had gone off with Gais, I returned from Faery to visit with Shawn MacClean. We went to the local tavern for a couple of pints. I love engaging in human pastimes, and this ritual men have of drowning their sorrows together at a tavern is most satisfying. At any rate, Gais chose that moment to complete his
coup de gras
. He dumped (and there is no other word for it) my little Destinee into the tavern. He dragged her through the tavern door, shouting at her that she was a worthless whore, and he threw her across the floor to lie naked, dirty, and totally out of her mind.

We Fae can cure almost all things, but we cannot cure, either in Fae or human, madness.

I was ahead of Shawn, covering her with my long coat, picking her up in my arms, and carrying her out of the tavern, where Shawn took her from me and put her ahead of him on his horse.