Beguiled (4 page)

“Yes.” His eyes were fixed on her and his features were grim. “There are some who believe a human has no business being in Otherworld at all, let alone sitting on the throne.”

Couldn’t really blame any of them for that, since she’d considered the same thought once or twice herself. But one thing she didn’t understand. “What’s Nora being pregnant got to do with people not liking me?”

Culhane’s scowl looked even fiercer than usual. “It is because of you that Quinn met and fell in love with Nora. They blame you for the warrior’s fall from grace.”

“Fall from—”

“Without you, Quinn would not have taken Nora to his bed, and now a child . . . There are some who believe it’s muddying Fae blood to mix with humans.”

“
Muddying?
” she repeated, less worried now and more insulted, both on her own behalf and for Nora. “Quinn’s lucky to
have
Nora and you know it.”

“I do—”

She kept talking, cutting Culhane off before he could sputter another word. “And
muddying
? Nora was a quarter-Fae before she and Quinn got together, and now their baby is going to be even
more
Fae than we were. So excuse me, but there was some other Faery
muddying
things up with my grandmother a long time ago. And he’s the one who set all of this into motion.”

“Yes, he—”

Maggie grabbed a fine-line paintbrush, loaded it with yellow paint and, even while she was raging, kept a steady hand to fill in the flames of several candles on the glass. “I don’t see anybody going after
that
guy.”

“You’re wrong,” Culhane spoke up quickly. “The Fae who seduced your grandmother has been . . . unpopular in Otherworld lately.”

“Lately?” Maggie grabbed that one word out of the sentence and pulled the brush away from the glass. “You mean our grandFae-father is still alive?”

“Of course.” He shrugged. “Fae are long-lived. You knew this.”

“Yeah, but I never thought—” Of course, things had been a little crazy in the last couple of weeks. Hardly surprising that she hadn’t had a chance to consider that their mysterious grandFae was still alive and out there somewhere. But now that she knew, she had to wonder why no one had said anything to her before this. Why hadn’t Culhane mentioned it? Why hadn’t Quinn said something to Nora?

Or had he? No, she told herself just as quickly. If Nora had known about this, no way would she have been able to keep quiet about it. So she didn’t know, either.

“Why didn’t you say something?” she asked, her voice quiet, careful. “Didn’t you want me to know? Or was it that good old grandFae is one of the ones who doesn’t want me on the throne? Is that it?”

“Maggie . . .”

She shook her head and fought down a surprising swell of disappointment. Why should she care what a grandparent she’d never met—and had believed until recently was just a figment of Gran’s imagination—thought of her? Still, it stung to think he didn’t approve of her as Queen. “Too bad for him,” she whispered. “I am the Queen and he’ll just have to deal with it like everybody else. After all, he’s the one who started the whole Fae line in the Donovan family.”

Culhane moved in closer and carefully eased her paintbrush from her fingers. “He is not one of those against your reign. I told you, he is having trouble in Otherworld because of his relationship to you.”

She bit her bottom lip and thought about that. Until a few minutes ago, she hadn’t even known about him. Now there was a thread of worry for him running through her system. “You should have told me about him, Culhane.”

“There wasn’t much time before Maggie. And I confess, I do not know your grandsire. I am a warrior. He is not.”

She almost argued with that reasoning, but then figured it must be like saying to someone here,
Oh, you live in Los Angeles. You must know my cousin, Wanda.
Big city. And Otherworld was even bigger. Hell, it was a
world
all by itself, with cities, countries, continents. . . . Of course Culhane wouldn’t know everyone there.

But imagine. The Donovan girls weren’t as alone in the world as they’d thought they were. They still had a relative. A Faery grandfather. Who hadn’t bothered to call and say hi or anything in like forever. Okay, that colored things a little, Maggie admitted silently and took her paintbrush back from Culhane.

Deliberately, she set thoughts of her mysterious grandfather aside for the moment. She’d have time later to think about him and decide what she was going to do about him. She’d have to meet him. Nora would want to meet him, too. But that meant being in Otherworld and right now, she had to be
here.

“You are pulling away from me again,” Culhane whispered.

When had he dipped his head so close to hers? And why did her insides immediately start jumping up and down in excitement the minute he did?

“I’m not,” she said, even as she did just that, stepping to one side, keeping a small, but necessary distance between them. She felt at a loss. He knew so much more than she did. About her life. Her family. Her new duties and her place in Otherworld. She felt as if she were standing over a chasm in the earth. One foot in Faeryland, one foot in the real world, and the tiniest wrong step would send her tumbling down into the gap between both worlds.

Forever falling, just like Mab.

She shivered and this time it had nothing to do with Culhane’s nearness. There was just too much going on in her world for Maggie to be thinking about Culhane and, God help her, Faery sex. Especially now that she knew Faery sperm were hearty enough to get through the birth control pills she
knew
Nora was on.

Though she wanted him more than she had ever thought it possible to want anyone, how could Maggie possibly stop long enough to enjoy sex when there were so many other things cluttering up her life and her thoughts? No, it looked like she was going to die a vestal virgin.

All right.

Not exactly a virgin.

But close. She’d been celibate—not by choice—for several weeks now. And the shower massage she’d installed a few nights ago? Not really the same.

Culhane blew out a breath. “You’re angry.”

“I’m . . . something. But, maybe angry’s mixed up in there somewhere.”

“Ah.” He nodded sagely, then shook his head as if he were disappointed. “I see. Somehow you blame
me
for Nora’s announcement?”

Actually, she was blaming him for pretty much everything lately. But then, why not? Wasn’t
he
the one who had started all of this you’re-the-destined-Queen thing? Whom else could she blame?

“You should have warned me,” she said flatly.

“I didn’t know about your sister’s pregnancy.”

She glanced at him and couldn’t read his expression at all. That’s what happened when you lived for thousands of years, she guessed. You had plenty of time to develop an excellent poker face. Culhane was on top of everything, though. Nothing surprised him. And he was damn good at keeping secrets. “Wish I could believe that.”

“You may.”

Maggie almost laughed. Now he wore that fierce, of-course-you-must-believe-me-I’m-a-Fae-Warrior-who- was-not-informed-of-all-I-should-have-been look on his face. Okay, maybe he hadn’t known after all. Even Culhane couldn’t possibly pretend to be
that
insulted.

“I would not have kept it from you had I known, but Quinn,” he added with a snarl, “did not tell
me
.”

She studied him for a long moment or two, then finally nodded, at least partially convinced. “Somehow that makes me feel better. At least I’m not the only one out of the loop.”

“Maggie,” he said, with a very human-sounding sigh, “as Queen, you
are
the ‘loop,’ as you call it.”

Wouldn’t that be nice? But . . . “Clearly not.”

He scowled again, folded his massive arms across his broad chest and planted both feet wide apart. Maggie’s breath hitched unsteadily. He looked so damn good. Like a pirate on the cover of a steamy romance novel. His black hair lifted in the cold sea breeze and his pale green eyes narrowed on her. Strange, that even when he was crabby and pissy, Maggie still felt sparks dazzling through her system.

Seriously, Culhane was enough to tempt the saints right out of heaven.

“I will speak with Quinn,” he promised, and from his tone, Maggie almost felt sorry for the other warrior. “But there is more to think about than the coming child.”

“I know, I know.” Maggie forgot about her paint-stained fingers and shoved one hand through her hair, giving it a yank so that the tiny jerk of pain would make her focus on something else besides the urge to throw herself at Culhane and forget all about everything but how he could make her feel.

Didn’t really work.

“I’m the Queen; I’ve got to pay attention. I have to be in Otherworld, trying to fix what’s wrong; like that won’t take a couple of decades. . . . Oh, and a shiny new—old—grandfather to think about, not to mention that there are Fae who don’t like me, not that they even
know
me.” She looked up at him and blew out a breath. “But Otherworld isn’t the only thing I’ve got to think about and you don’t seem to get that. This is still my world, Culhane, and here, I’ve got to eat and I’ve also got to pay bills—”

“You could live in the palace and never pay another bill,” he whispered.

That sly hush of sound probably was just what the snake in the Garden of Eden had sounded like. Tempting. Alluring. Making her envision a life of pampered luxury. She’d been in the palace a few times and it was pretty damn impressive. Huge and beautiful, its white marble and crystal walls shimmered with an inner light. Windows that overlooked gardens so breathtaking you could hardly force yourself to stop looking at them. Breezes that tickled and teased your skin, carrying with them the tangled scents of those flowers, the far-off seas and foreign spices.

For one brief shining moment, Maggie let herself think what it might be like to surrender her version of normalcy to live forever in that world so far away from her own. Imagine having no electric bill, no phone company getting snippy because the check was late. No insurance bills, car payments, ooh, and no taxes. She sighed. “Wouldn’t that be something. . . .”

For the first time, she didn’t consider all of the palace intrigue, the pixies against the Fae, the women against the men, the rogue Fae threatening to break loose of the icy world they’d been imprisoned in, to wreak havoc in
her
world. Nope. All she thought about was the incredible notion of having no responsibilities beyond, you know—ruling.

Then she caught herself, frowned at the Fae Warrior watching her with a knowing gleam in his eyes and said, “You’re evil, Culhane.”

He smiled and her stomach did a quick spin.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Maggie said, shaking her head and holding up both hands, forming a cross with her fingers, as if she were trying to hold off a vampire. “You’re trying to seduce me onto the throne. Well, it won’t work. I told you. I’ll be Queen. On my terms. I have a life, Culhane, and I’m not ready to give it up.”

Muttering something under his breath in a language she didn’t understand, he practically snarled at her; then he moved so fast she didn’t see the motion, him sweeping in close, grabbing her upper arms and dragging her up against him. He held her so tightly pinned against his body, she felt the hard, solid length of him pressing into her belly and lower.

She blinked, her head tipped back and he loomed over her, staring directly into her eyes. “Your life is not your own anymore, Maggie. Do you not see that? Do you not see that this”—he lifted his gaze to sweep the town of Castle Bay with a dismissive glance—“is no longer where you belong?”

“No.” She said it firmly. Loudly. Convincing him? Or herself? Didn’t matter. Both of them needed to hear it. “I won’t give it all up, Culhane. I can’t. This is who I am and hey, it should not be a big surprise, Mr. Great Fenian Warrior.” She yanked herself free of his grip. “You’re the one who’s been peeking into my life for years. Not like knowing who I am is a big shocker. So dial down the caveman attitude, okay?”

“You try my patience, Maggie Donovan.”

She clucked her tongue at him. “Is that any way to talk to your Queen?”

He gritted his teeth so hard, Maggie was pretty sure she actually
heard
his teeth dissolving into powder; then his eyes blazed a pale green fire at her and his image shifted, blurred and disappeared.

Alone again, Maggie shot a look into the beauty shop, hoping to hell no one had seen Culhane doing the vanish thing. But everyone inside was busy combing out hair, sitting under dryers reading magazines and slurping down coffee while gossiping—none of them had a single clue that a Fae Warrior had just been outside their cozy little shop. They would never dream that a place like Otherworld existed.

Lucky bastards.

Chapter Three

Culhane embraced the change, letting his body dissipate, molecules disbanding, as he shifted dimensions, moving through time, space and the magic doorways that separated his world from Maggie’s. He appeared a brief moment later in his home at the Warriors’ Conclave—his body hard and tight, his temper tightly leashed but straining to be free. And the familiarity of his rooms did nothing to ease the tension clawing at him.