Bedeviled (22 page)

Her mom was gone, and so was Aunt Maggie, and they
never
left her alone. She glanced around, checking the shadows in the corners of the room as if to make sure there were no monsters about to spring out at her. Then she reminded herself she was almost thirteen and she shouldn’t be acting like a baby or something.

After all, she wasn’t
alone
, alone. She had Sheba. And Bezel.

“Quinn took her somewhere,” the pixie said gruffly.

“Why?”

“Because.” He didn’t sound very happy about her questions, but Eileen knew that if you didn’t ask, you never found out anything.

“Quinn’s a Faery, too, isn’t he?”

“Not much gets past you, does it?”

“Where’d he take Mom?”

“What am I?” Bezel demanded. “Answer pixie? I’m sitting right here with you. How the
Ifreann
do I know where they went? Does anybody tell me anything?”

Sheba whined and cuddled closer to him, and Bezel’s long fingers stroked through the dog’s fur, unconsciously soothing.

Eileen nodded in sympathy. “Nobody tells me anything, either.”

“You’re a kid.” Bezel snorted and tugged at his wispy beard. “Nobody tells kids anything. Why would they? But I’m two thousand and seven.”

“Really?” Eileen’s eyes went wide as she was momentarily distracted. “You don’t look that old.”

Bezel preened a bit. “Well, I work out.”

“Is Maggie with Nora, too?”

“No,” Bezel said, clearly irritated. “She’s with the ‘Great Fenian Warrior’ Culhane.”

“Well, how come I don’t get to go somewhere cool?” Her fears were slowly sliding away. After all, Bezel was here. It wasn’t like she was completely alone. Plus, she was in her own house.

“How do I know?” He leaned back against the couch and crossed his big feet at the ankles.

“Well, it’s not fair, that’s all,” she muttered, plucking at the hem of her cotton nightgown. “Thirty-three percent of all children who have their dreams quashed turn out badly.”

“What?”

She sighed. “Mom and Aunt Maggie get to do things, and I’m stuck here.”

“Welcome to my world.”

“How long will they be gone?”

“Probably be back before morning,” he grumbled.

“Really? Oh yeah. Time moves different for Faeries, huh?” The knot in her tummy started to go away as she realized everything was going to be okay. Her mom and Aunt Maggie would be back really soon. Maybe if they didn’t come back until late tomorrow morning she wouldn’t have to go to school. And since they weren’t around now, they couldn’t tell her to go back to bed. So she’d get to stay up as late as she wanted. That was good, too.

“Smart kid.” Bezel pushed himself to his feet and held out one hand to the girl. “Look, I’ll tell you what I know while we get something to eat, okay? Your mom buy some more of those cookies with the chocolate and marshmallows?”

“I think so.” Eileen took his hand and stood up, then looked down at the pixie. “We can have cookies and milk.”

“Ugh. Bovine lactation?” He shivered.

Eileen laughed, and the rest of that knot inside her dissolved. “Okay, you can have a Coke.”

“Sounds good.”

“Bezel?”

He sighed.
“What?”

“If they’re not all back by morning will you take me to Aunt Maggie?”

He scratched his chin, tipped his head to one side and considered the request. Finally he smiled. “Yeah, I can do that. Serve Culhane right for screwing with a pixie.”

Sanctuary was a castle in the clouds.

Literally. There was no ground under it, which was enough to make a person uneasy at first. But after a few minutes Maggie got used to it. Pretty much.

“So, no ground at all?” she asked, looking out one of the wide windows that were kept open so that sweetly scented air could pass through the long halls lined with more books than she’d ever seen. Leaning out the window, Maggie stared down, down,
way
down, to the suggestion of green far below them.

“None,” a voice that wasn’t McCulloch’s said from behind her.

Maggie whipped around fast, almost lost her balance and grabbed hold of the window jamb to keep her balance.

A tall, lean man with long blond hair and pale blue eyes smiled at her. “Best not to fall out the windows. It’s quite a drop.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I noticed. Where’s McCulloch?”

“Gone back to Otherworld.”

“Fabulous. More disappearing Faeries. No wonder Mab hates those guys. Can’t depend on ’em to stick around. Hey, wait a minute. Aren’t we
in
Otherworld?”

“We’re in Sanctuary,” the man said, walking closer with a slow, easy grace that told Maggie he was completely comfortable with who and where he was.

He wore black slacks, an open-at-the-throat long-sleeved white shirt and soft shoes that made only a whisper of sound on the silver-veined marble floor.

“You are Maggie Donovan,” he said when he was no more than a foot away from her.

“That much I know,” she said, a little hesitant at being dropped into yet another unfamiliar spot. “Who are you?”

“My name is Finn. I run Sanctuary.”

He was gorgeous, too, which Maggie was beginning to expect. Every male she’d run into since falling down the rabbit hole was the stuff female fantasies were made of. His features were clean and sharp, his eyes thoughtful and his mouth moved easily into a smile.

Yes, very nice to look at, but there was none of the tingling sense of expectation that happened to her when she looked at Culhane.
Damn it
. Would have made her life easier if she’d been able to be attracted to someone else.
Anyone
else.
Blasted Faery.

“Are you a warrior, too?” she asked, though she doubted the answer would be yes. He wasn’t built like the other warriors. Though his shoulders were broad, he was more leanly muscled than the Fae bred to fight.

“No,” he said, and smiled again as if he were reading her mind, which she really hoped he wasn’t. “I’m a scholar and a wizard.”

“Of course you are.” She blinked up at him and shook her head a little. No point in being surprised. If she allowed that, she’d wander around with her mouth hanging open all the damn time. Faeries, pixies, demons and now
wizards.
“Well, you look way better than Dumbledore.”

He grinned and gave her a brief bow. “Thank you. Wonderful books, those.”

“Yeah, my niece, Eileen, loves ’em.” So did Maggie. Of course, she’d always considered them
fiction.
She glanced out the window again and was nearly mesmerized by the soft, swirly movement of the wispy clouds sliding past. “So, Mr. Wizard, where exactly are we?”

“Everywhere and nowhere. Sanctuary exists out of normal time and space.”

“Oh, good. Even more cryptic.”

“Not at all. If you’ll come with me, I’ll explain what I can.”

Well, where else would she go? Out the window? Maggie started moving and walked alongside him as he headed down the long, pale hallway. The walls were marble, too, but they weren’t cold. Instead warmth radiated from them, welcoming. She caught the scents of lemon and flowers again and spotted vases filled with staggering bouquets of brilliantly colored flowers. And the lemons? She was willing to bet the smell came from the polish that had the miles of bookshelves gleaming in the soft light.

“Sanctuary’s open to all and haven to all,” Finn was saying, and Maggie reined in her thoughts and listened. “When the Fae enter Sanctuary, their powers are stripped from them and not returned until they leave again. No powers exist here but mine, so you’re safe.”

“I’m safe? With no powers?”

“In Sanctuary, yes. No one can harm you here.”

Now that he mentioned it, Maggie did feel different. Lighter somehow, as if something had slipped off her shoulders. Apparently, that something was her powers. Shouldn’t she be more pleased about that?

“I’m supposed to take your word for it that I’m safe from
you
?”

He grinned, and Maggie had to envy the Fae women. So far, every male in Otherworld was heart-stoppingly dazzling.

“You don’t have anything to fear from me,” Finn assured her. “You’re here at Sanctuary to learn. Culhane asked me to show you the breadth of your powers and the depth of our need.”

“Oh, man.” She stopped and stared at him. “You, too?”

“I am male. Is it so hard to imagine where my sympathies would lie?”

“No, I guess not. Guys always stick together.”

“True enough,” he said, and led her into a cavernous room with a ceiling that had to be fifty feet high.

Across that ceiling spread a mural of such rich and deep colors, Maggie was caught in the sheer beauty of it. It depicted Otherworld, of course—the land, the people, the magic. Her artist’s heart ached and in spite of everything she wished she were holding a paintbrush in her hand. She wanted to paint everything she’d seen. The warriors. The trees filled with windows. Sanctuary, surrounded by clouds.

But here she wasn’t an artist.

Here she was expected to be a savior of some sort.

God help them all.

“These books,” Finn said as she looked at him, “and the others in Sanctuary, hold all the knowledge of all the worlds.”

“All?”

“Did you think there was only your plane and Otherworld?” He laughed. “No, there are many dimensions, many levels of existence, and each of them is peopled by beings as diverse as you’ve already seen.”

She turned in a slow circle, examining the towering shelves of books. Of varying sizes and shapes and color, there were hundreds of thousands of books, and just thinking about reading them all made Maggie tired. “You expect me to read these? All of them?”

“Of course not. I’ll give you the volumes you need. You’ll study. You’ll learn. And when the time is right you’ll save Otherworld.”

Confidence was good, she supposed. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Sure of you, Maggie Donovan. I’ve seen the future. What can come of it. You are at the heart of whatever change comes, good or bad.”

“But no pressure.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms and, despite the warmth in the room, felt a bone-deep chill snake along her spine. How was she supposed to do this? How could any one person be responsible for so many?

Still smiling, Finn waved one hand and a dozen or more books, scattered all over the room, floated through the air and settled onto a long, polished table. He waved again and one of the bright floral chairs at the table slid out in welcome.

“Sit. Read. See for yourself what you are and what you can become.”

After two days—Faery time, that is—in Sanctuary, Maggie felt as though she’d been in school for a century. Finn was determined to teach her as much as possible in whatever time they had.

“Mab has reigned unchallenged for more than three thousand years,” Finn was saying as Maggie watched him. “In the beginning she was a fair enough ruler. She’s always favored the female Fae, but that was to be expected.”

Maggie’s head was pounding. She braced her elbows on the tabletop and watched as Finn strode around the room. He should have been wearing a cloak or a pointed hat decorated with stars or something. A wizard in jeans somehow lacked . . . authority.

“Sometime into her reign, though, she changed.” He stopped, fixed Maggie with a hard look and said, “She thought only of bolstering her own power. But for her warriors she surrounded herself only with females. Fae males were slowly pushed into the background until finally even they can’t remember a time when things were different.”

“So why’d they let it happen?”

“What could they do? Their own queen had declared them to be unimportant. Soon they began to believe it, as well.” He walked faster, his strides long, powerful. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he shook his head in disgust as he talked. “Mab decreed that no male would hold a position of authority. She was the only law. And any who dared disagree with her were tossed into a demon dimension to fend for themselves.”

“Nice.” Maggie shifted uneasily on her chair. Was that what she could expect if she couldn’t beat Mab?

As if sensing her thoughts, Finn walked across the room and stopped just opposite her. “You will be a better queen. I’ve seen it.”

“Uh-huh. Have you also seen that I don’t really want to be a queen?”

“Yes,” he told her, smiling. “But destiny is not something you can ignore.”

Maggie wasn’t so sure.

Chapter Eleven

“
C
oncentrate on the act of drawing your power from your center and directing it through your fingertips.”

“Thought I didn’t have power here.” She grinned as she teased him.

“You don’t.” Finn sighed as if he were as exhausted as she felt. “I’m . . . lending you some of mine so that you can practice, remember?”

Maggie stared at Finn for a long moment. He was practically unteaseable. If she were teasing Culhane like this, he’d have been shouting at her by now. Strange that she missed that.

Letting her thoughts of Culhane go, she paid attention to Finn again. With her borrowed power she’d already learned how to peek into possible futures, and how to fly—well, almost. She had the floating thing down; it was steering that was giving her problems. Finn had also shown her how to throw blasts of energy from her fingertips—like tiny lightning bolts—and how to direct a flow of Faery dust with her breath so that another demon wouldn’t be getting the drop on her anytime soon.

He was a better teacher than Bezel; that was for damn sure. Finn didn’t lose his temper and call her names for motivation. And God knew, he was easier to look at.

But thoughts of Bezel brought on thoughts of home. Of her family. Nora was never far from her mind, and Maggie tortured herself daily by wondering what sort of prison Culhane had locked her in, the no-good bastard Faery from
Ifreann.

Which was exactly where she hoped Culhane was at the moment, in Faery hell, frying his Faery ass.

“You’re not listening.”

“What? Oh. No, guess I wasn’t.” As usual Culhane had been up front in her brain. Even furious with the damn Faery she couldn’t stop thinking about him. How nuts was that? Shaking her head, Maggie sat up straight, focused on Finn and said, “Totally here now. Really.”