Beguiled (20 page)

“Chill out, Culhane,” Maggie told him, then asked Nora, “Do we have any milk?”

“Just bought some,” her sister said, still shooting daggers at Quinn.

“Chill out?” Culhane demanded. “What is that?”

“It means calm down, oh-high-and-mighty Fenian Warrior,” Bezel told him.

“I
am
perfectly calm!” His shout rattled the window-panes.

“Yeah, I’m getting that,” Maggie told him as she moved around the table, headed for the fridge.

“Here’s a glass,” Nora said, handing one over.

“Thanks.”

“We are not here to eat cookies, Maggie,” Quinn announced.

“That’s what
I’m
here for,” Maggie told him abruptly, then narrowed her eyes. “And that’s
Queen Maggie
to you, buddy.”

Bezel laughed and scrubbed his long-fingered hands together. “Hoot! Listen to Her Majesty!”

“Quiet, pixie,” Culhane ordered.

“Quit picking on him because you’re mad at me,” Maggie told him as she poured milk into her glass and took a long drink.

“You’re a bully, Culhane,” Nora threw in, then added just for good measure, “And so are you, Quinn Terhune.”

“Me?” The Viking was appalled.

“Fifty-three percent of family squabbles end with a visit from the police,” Eileen pronounced to no one in particular.

“Jeeez, kid, put a sock in it, will ya?” Since he didn’t have a sock handy, Bezel shoved a cookie in Eileen’s mouth and dropped one to the dog as well, to stop her whimpering.

Maggie whistled, a shrill, short blast of sound that had everyone in the room shutting up instantly. “I didn’t mean to start World War Three here or something. I just talked to Ailish, the secondary commander of the guards. She said the girls were ready to fight and I said good idea. Told her I’d talk it over with my Chieftain”—she shot a disappointed look at Culhane—“and that I would make sure the females got their chance to fight.”

“You should not have done that, Maggie. There are rules. Traditions.”

“And I’ve already broken dozens of ’em, okay?” She picked up her milk glass, took a drink, then set it down again. “I get that I’m not your ordinary Fae Queen. And you have to understand that, too. I’m not going to be doing everything the way it’s always been done, because I don’t freaking
know
how it’s always been done.”

“I will tell you,” Culhane said through gritted teeth.

“Fine. I’m willing to listen. But I’m also not going to be jumping every time you tell me to. You wanted me to be the Queen, Culhane. Well,” she said with a sigh, “I am. And I’m going to do it my way.”

“This road will lead to madness,” Quinn mumbled.

Maggie frowned and said, “Look, all I’m saying is, it makes sense that the female guards fight if they want to. They’re trained warriors.”

Quinn snorted.

“If you do this thing,” Culhane warned, ignoring his friend because he was still trying to remain calm and coolheaded, “it will only cause more trouble. The warriors will not accept the female guard. And this is
not
why I fought so hard to help you become Queen.”

Maggie tipped her head to one side, studied him for a long moment or two, then walked toward him. Suspicion glittered in her blue eyes, along with a hint of danger that should have warned any sane male in her vicinity to take a walk. Culhane, though, was made of sterner stuff than most males. He stood his ground.

“Just why did you fight to put me on the throne, Culhane?” she asked thoughtfully. “So I could be a good little warrior puppet? Was that the idea all along? Were you planning on jerking my strings and telling me which way to move, what to say, what to think?”

“Of course not.” Not in those particular terms, at any rate.

She looked at him as if she didn’t believe him and that stung more than he would have cared to admit.

“It doesn’t really matter why, I guess,” Maggie said. “Because if that was the plan, it’s not going to work. I’m my own woman—Fae—Queen. You might not like everything I do, but you’re not going to stop me from doing it. And I say the female guards are going to fight with the warriors.”

“Insulting,” Quinn muttered, then hissed out a breath as Nora punched him in the stomach.

Culhane was still striving for reasonable, though his temper was near the boiling point. How had this day suddenly turned asunder? Only an hour or so ago, he had been filled with hope for his world and his brave new Queen. How had he lost control of this situation? And more importantly, how could he get it back?

“Better to give the males the power of flight,” he pointed out in a cool, rational, she’ll-have-to-listen-tome-now tone. “Then we have flying warriors without the trouble of females trying to fit in where they have no place. Males are the better fighters, remember.”

“Maybe
you
should remember whom you’re talking to, Culhane,” Maggie said softly.

“Uh-oh,” Bezel murmured.

Culhane’s gaze was fixed on Maggie as she closed in on him. Gone was the tender, yet fiery lover he’d held so briefly in his arms. Here stood a queen in all her furious glory. And though she infuriated him, he couldn’t help the swell of admiration he felt for her, either. She lifted her chin, squared her shoulders and glared at him hard enough to turn him to stone.

“I’m female, remember?” she asked. “And in the last few weeks, I’ve fought demons, rogue Fae and even a damn crazy queen. Not to mention,
you
.”

“Yes,” he agreed, then added, “Although—”

“Not finished yet,” she told him, cutting him off before he could even end his sentence. “It’s time you warriors get a grip. You guys are
not
the only ball game in town, you know.”

“Ball game?” Quinn muttered.

Maggie didn’t even glance at him. Her gaze remained fixed on Culhane’s. “Otherworld needs
all
of its warriors fighting together now. No more of this stupid bickering about who fights better than who or who has better powers or whatever.”

“You don’t understand,” Culhane said tightly as his carefully banked fury began to slip its leash. “You’re new to this, Maggie.”

“I may be new to Otherworld, but to this sexist crap?” She shook her head. “Old news, Culhane.”

He grabbed her shoulders, pulled her in close and ignored the room full of people watching them both intently. He stared into her eyes and said, “You’re new to ruling, Maggie. You’ve said yourself you have no idea how to be Queen. You have stalled and avoided your responsibilities for as long as you could and even now, there’s a part of you that quails at the thought of taking your rightful place.”

“
My
rightful place,” she said, not arguing his point, just reminding him that like it or not, she
was
the Queen.

Irritation clouded his judgment. That was the only reason he could find later for what he said next.

“You are still more human than Fae. You are not immortal yet. Your powers are still growing. You are hesitant when you need to be strong. You need me to make these important decisions for you.”

A second ticked past. Then two. Then three. Finally, Maggie asked, “Was this all nothing but a game to you, Culhane?”

“What?”

“You used me to fight Mab. Now you want to use me to make your changes to Otherworld. What’s the plan? I’m Queen, but you’re in charge?”

“It is not like that, Maggie.” He had never used her. He’d thought only to train her. To help her. To set her on the throne so that he might . . . He groaned inwardly. So that he might rule in her stead.

“Do you even give a single damn about me?”

Too late now, Culhane saw the trap he’d stepped into so completely. All he could do now was try to ease himself free. “How can you ask that after—”

She shook her head and spoke up fast to cut him off. “You want to use me, Culhane. All I ever was to you was a tool.”

“You’re wrong.” He wouldn’t beg or plead. Wouldn’t bloody well ask for forgiveness for doing the right thing for both his world and the mortal dimension. “You’re wrong about everything.”

She stopped, pushed both hands through her hair and choked out a half laugh. “God. How stupid am I? You never wanted me to be Queen. You expected me to just let you be
King
.”

He drew himself up to his full, imposing height and stared down at her. Those blue eyes he knew so well were clouded with suspicion and hurt and anger. He suspected those same emotions could be seen in his own eyes. Even if most of what she’d said had been true, he had never once thought of her as a puppet. Just some mindless body to sit on a throne. He’d wanted to rule
with
her. To show her what Otherworld could be.

And now, that chance was gone because she didn’t trust him. That fact stung more than any other. Hadn’t he been by her side through all of this? Hadn’t he defended her? Protected her? Looked out for her when she had known nothing about the new life she was facing? Did he really deserve her contempt?

No.

“I am Culhane. A Fenian warrior,” he said softly, though with such strength, his voice ricocheted off the walls and hummed in the room like a force of nature. “I am unaccustomed to being mistrusted. My honor—my word—is all-important to me and has been through the eons of my life. You are my Queen, Maggie Donovan, and your protection is my duty. But I will not defend
myself
to a woman who should know me better than this.”

Then he gave her a half bow and shifted out of the room, out of her world. Quinn was just a heartbeat behind him.

Maggie was rocked to her soul.

Nora was crying.

Eileen looked confused.

When the back door flew open a moment later, Claire MacDonald rushed inside, eyes wild, hair flying. “Mab’s escaped!” she shouted.

“Some psychic,” Bezel snorted, and ate a cookie.

Chapter Ten

“Female warriors?” McCulloch repeated with a grimace, as if even the words themselves were distasteful. “It cannot be.”

“So we tried to tell the Queen,” Quinn muttered in disgust.

Muldoon poured a glass of nectar, downed it in one gulp and shook his head. “Surely this will be the end of the Warrior clan.”

“ ’Tis lunacy,” Riley swore.

“Or perhaps not,” O’Hara put in quietly.

Instantly, the others in the room turned on him, their voices combining to create a dull roar of outrage.

Culhane was only half listening to the debate that had been raging now for hours. He’d gathered his most trusted five the moment he’d returned to the Warriors’ Conclave to tell them about Maggie’s unreasonable demand.

Maggie.

His heart clenched in his chest and a ball of ice settled low in his belly. She’d been in his grasp there in her kitchen and yet farther from him than she had ever been. As if their time together in the throne room had never happened, she’d distanced herself from him completely. He’d seen it himself. The frost in her eyes, the disdain in her voice and the disappointed anger written all over her features. He would remember it always.

And know that he had been at the root of it all.

Yet a part of him rebelled against any regrets clouding his thoughts. He had done only what he had always done. His best for Otherworld and his people. He would not apologize for simply being who and what he was.

Gods knew he had never meant to harm her in any way. Maggie would realize that eventually and come to see that she needed him. Needed his advice. His counsel.
Him
.

“Culhane, you must stop this insanity.”

He looked at Muldoon, a fiery man with thick red hair, blazing green eyes and hands the size of platters. A giant of a man, he made the other warriors, including Culhane, look nearly small in comparison. At this moment, Muldoon looked ready to explode.

“Is
this
what we waited for? For a queen who cares not for the tradition of the Warrior clans? Does she dismiss us without even knowing us? She is not even fully Fae yet!”

A fierce wave of protectiveness rose up in Culhane as he stood to his full height and glared at Muldoon until the warrior’s gaze flinched away.

“Maggie is Queen,” Culhane said with deliberate emphasis, his gaze moving from one warrior to the next to ensure that
all
of them understood how he felt about the situation. He didn’t agree with Maggie about this, and he would certainly try to change her mind. But until that happened, he would defend her decisions. He would fight for her right to rule. He had waited centuries for her to ascend to the throne. He would not turn his back on her before she had been Queen even a month. “If she decrees the females as warriors,” he continued, “it will be done.”

“Ending the Warrior clans for good and all,” McCulloch muttered again, in spite of the glare Culhane sent him.

“Ach,” O’Hara groaned, pushed to his feet and snatched the bottle of nectar from Muldoon. “Such whining I haven’t heard in this Conclave in years. Are you so afraid of females fighting alongside you? Do you fear they’ll be a hindrance? Or is it that you fear they might prove themselves finer warriors?”

McCulloch stepped up to his friend, grabbed a fistful of O’Hara’s shirt and yanked the warrior right off his feet. He lifted him until O’Hara’s feet left the floor. “I fear no woman and there’s not a female alive can out-fight me.”