Dangerously Charming (6 page)

“A girl,” Jenna repeated, folding her hands protectively over her belly. “I'm having a girl.” Although she tried to stop it, tears filled her eyes, and the Queen shook her head regretfully and returned to her seat.

“Your Majesties,” Mick said in a formal tone, as if reminding them of why they were all there. “Zilya is already aware of the pregnancy and has made an effort to seek Jenna out in order to lay her magical claim on the baby. We have come here to ask that you forbid Zilya to do so until after the child is born.”

Zilya hissed, but said nothing as yet, clearly biding her time.

“What difference can that make, White Rider?” the King asked, leaning forward in his chair. “Either way, Jenna will still have to give the baby up when the time comes.”

“Ah, but you see, Sire, I believe that Jenna may be the one
to finally solve the riddle her many-times-great-grandmother was given, and break this curse once and for all. But for this she needs time, which Your Majesties alone can give her.”

The Queen arched one white eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You truly believe this, Mikhail?”

“I do,” he said firmly. “I have every faith in Jenna's cleverness and determination.”

Jenna felt a glow that had nothing to do with being pregnant, and she gave Mick a watery smile. The Queen and King exchanged looks and whispered for a moment behind the Queen's upraised lace fan, their light and dark heads bent together as they pondered.

“I protest, Your Majesty!” Zilya said, her voice shrill yet somehow still musical. “This girl I have not met in person before today, but her family and I have a long history, which I am looking forward to continuing.” She gave a smile that strayed dangerously close to a smirk. “I would assume you have no problem with that, Highness, since you agreed to my rights in this matter many years ago.”

“Never assume anything, Zilya,” the Queen said, her voice so cold that frost crept over the surface of her teacup, making lacy white patterns that crackled in the warm pseudo-summer air. “You have taken many an infant from this woman's family, and you seek to claim the child she carries within her now, do you not?”

Zilya held her narrow chin up high. “I do, Your Majesty. It is my right.”

The Queen pursed her lips but didn't argue. “When this woman's grandmother came to seek Our aid some years ago, that much was established, it is true. But We are curious as to the origins of this curse. Explain them to Us.”

Zilya looked startled. “You didn't ask me about that the last time, Your Majesty.”

The King simply said, “We are asking you now, Zilya. Answer the question, if you please. I am quite certain you would not like your Queen to have to ask you twice.”

The faery bobbed another quick curtsy. “Of course not, Sire. As to the beginning of it all, well, there was this man.”

“Of course there was,” the Queen said, with what on any lesser person might have been called an eye roll. “Was he one of Our ilk, this man?”

“No, Your Majesty, he was a Human. But he was mine, and then Rose, this woman's many-times-great-grandmother, stole him.”

“And young Jenna's ancestor, she somehow tricked or beguiled this man into choosing her over you?” the Queen asked.

Zilya pouted. “She must have. Why else would a man choose a mere Human over me?”

“Why indeed?” the King muttered.

The Queen tapped one slim finger against her lips. “So, this curse was cast on a woman who is many and many years dead, because of a man who is also many and many years dead, is that what you are saying?”

“Yes, but—”

“The girl Jenna has asked of Us this boon: that you be forbidden to claim her unborn child until after it leaves her womb, thus allowing her the remaining days of her pregnancy to solve the riddle you set her ancestor. Under the circumstances, this seems a reasonable request, and We will grant it. Therefore, Zilya—”

“Your Majesty! That's not fair! That child belongs to me! You have to give me a second chance.”

The King rose so swiftly from his chair, Jenna barely saw him move. “Do you dare to interrupt My beloved, your Queen? You forget yourself, Zilya.” The faery turned pale; clearly the King was a power in his own right, to be taken no less seriously in spite of the more benign manner he usually displayed.

The Queen's amethyst gaze turned even colder. “You were given your second chance centuries ago, Zilya, when you flirted with My consort and I did not banish you from this
kingdom forever. Perhaps it would be best if you did not ask for any favors beyond that one.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Jenna saw Mick's lips curve. Why did she suspect that he already knew that Zilya wasn't the Queen's favorite person?

“My apologies, Sire, Your Highness,” Zilya said. “I was merely taken by surprise by your decision, since you had previously said that my curse was legitimately cast and you would not interfere.” She gave a belated curtsy, gracefully bending her knee and waving one arm out in front of her body.

“Nor will We, should the Human fail in her attempt,” the Queen said coolly. “If that is the case, you will have the child anyway. You need only wait. For now, you are forbidden to approach the girl until the babe has left the womb. Should she still be unable to produce the solution to your riddle, you may collect the infant one fortnight after it is born. Is that clear?”

“What's a fortnight?” Jenna whispered to Mick, almost giddy with relief now that the Queen had ruled in her favor.

“Two weeks,” he whispered back. “That means Zilya will be entitled to take your baby two weeks after it is born, if you fail.”

“I understand, Your Majesty,” Zilya said with an expression that made it look as though she had bitten into something bitter and not to her liking.

“Very well,” the Queen said, waving her fan at the faery. “Then you may leave Us.”

Zilya curtsied politely and made her way out of the tent. As she passed Jenna, she hissed, “Don't get to attached to that creature growing inside you. I
will
have it from you in the end.”

“Over my dead body,” Jenna hissed back.

“If you insist,” Zilya said, and swept out into the day.

After she was gone, Mick and Jenna expressed their gratitude to the Queen, who accepted their thanks with a graceful nod of the head.

She looked a bit wistful, if such a thing was possible. “My dear Jenna, might We request a boon of you in return?”

Jenna swallowed hard. She couldn't imagine what the Queen would ask for: seven years of servitude, or some other impossible task? “Your Majesty?” she said.

“If you succeed in breaking the curse, perhaps you would bring the child to visit Us when it is born? We should like to see her.”

Jenna could only nod. “I would be happy to, Your Majesty.”

The Queen gave her a wintry smile, and then she gazed intently at Mick. “We are well aware of your long relationship with the Baba Yagas, but no Baba Yaga may act in her professional capacity to help this girl achieve her goal. That would be against the rules.”

Mick looked thoughtful. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“If,” the Queen added, “for instance, you were to go visit the one called Barbara, she would be unable to assist you in any official way. Is that quite clear?”

Mick returned the Queen's look squarely. “Very clear, Your Majesty. I am sure Jenna agrees that you have been most gracious and generous.” Jenna nodded in agreement.

Neither of them said anything until they were most of the way down the path, followed at a discreet distance by an official who would reclaim Jenna's bracelet when she left. Jenna's feelings were such a volatile mixture of triumph and fear and just plain stunned amazement that she, Jenna Quinlan, had just met the Queen of the Otherworld, she barely knew what to say anyway.

Finally, though, Mick said, “You were very lucky that the Queen doesn't like Zilya. I suspect that made her more willing to grant your request than she might have been otherwise.”

“I'm grateful to you for bringing me to see her,” Jenna said.

“But?” Mick raised one blond eyebrow.

“Well, I just wish I knew what to do next,” Jenna said,
feeling a little discouraged despite how well things had gone. “I still don't really know where to start.”

To her surprise, Mick let out a sharp laugh. “Ah, but you weren't paying attention. The Queen already suggested our course of action.”

“She did?”

“Of course. She told us to visit Barbara Yager, one of the Baba Yagas.”

“But I thought she said this Baba person couldn't help. She was quite specific about it.” Jenna felt like she was missing something.

Mick gave her a wicked grin that made her heart skip a beat and cheered her up despite her dire situation. “Exactly. The Queen is a wise and wily woman. She warned me that the Baba Yaga can't act in any magical way to help you, which is definitely a shame, because that might have been my next move. But doesn't mean she can't give you advice or suggestions as one woman to another. The Baba Yaga can't solve the problem
for
you, but the Queen purposely pointed out that there was no reason Barbara couldn't give you the benefit of her wisdom and experience.”

Jenna stared at her. “That's
sneaky
.”

“Welcome to dealing with the fae,” Mick said. “They don't lie, but they can make words dance around so cleverly, you'll think you just agreed to one thing when it turns out you've done exactly the opposite. That's why you never make a deal with a faery if you can help it.”

“You know, all the old stories said that, but I always figured they'd exaggerated.”

“Hardly,” Mick said.

They walked for another minute and then Jenna said hesitantly, “The stories mostly said that the Baba Yaga was a scary, evil witch. Was that an exaggeration too?”

Mick chuckled. “You can decide for yourself. You're going to meet one in about five minutes.”

MIKHAIL
stole a glance at Jenna out of the corner of his eye and saw her take a deep breath and brace herself for the worst. He bit his lip so he wouldn't laugh. He had to admit—if only in a kind of internal whisper—that even though he hadn't wanted to get involved, he was sort of enjoying himself. He'd definitely gotten a kick out of watching Jenna stand up to Zilya, even if the poor girl really was way out of her league.

Not that he wouldn't be happy once he'd handed her over to Barbara and returned to the peace and solitude of his cabin. But for a couple of days it had been nice to think about somebody else's problems instead of his own. Not to mention actively doing something instead of sitting around and replaying scenes from Brenna and the Cave of Torture in his head, over and over. He still didn't want to ride to anyone's rescue anymore, but helping Jenna with her issues was a hell of a lot more entertaining than obsessing about his own.

They'd come directly from the Otherworld, using the doorway that came out into Barbara's Airstream trailer, currently
parked next to a red barn that sat out behind a yellow farmhouse with a tin roof. Luckily, the Riders could always come and go freely through any of the Baba Yaga's magical passageways, and apparently that hadn't changed despite the fact that technically, none of them were Riders any longer.

Day had enjoyed watching Jenna's reaction as they walked out of the eerie mist, through a narrow cupboard door, and into the small but luxurious interior of the Airstream.

“Wow,” Jenna said. “This is amazing. I've been in a couple of RVs, but I've
never
seen anything like this.”

“You think this is impressive,” Day said. “You should have seen it when it was a wooden hut on giant chicken legs. Still, I'll admit this is a lot more comfortable.”

It certainly looked comfortable. The furniture was covered in rich jewel-toned brocades and velvets, with silk accents. Instead of the conventional boring carpet, there was a luxurious antique Persian rug decorated in flowers and tiny creatures so detailed they looked like they could get up and crawl around. The compact kitchen was crafted out of some kind of glossy wood, and there were herbs everywhere—dried herbs in jars, herbal tinctures in small cobalt blue bottles, fresh herbs hanging from hooks in the ceiling and scenting the air with their delicate woodsy aromas.

“Your friend Barbara really lives in this and travels around the country?” Jenna asked, gazing around with wide eyes, probably wondering where the owner was.

“She did,” he said, patting the couch affectionately as they walked to the door. It didn't do to ignore the Airstream; it had a personality and magic all its own, and was capable of making an unwanted visitor very uncomfortable. Luckily, it had always had a soft spot for the Riders, Day in particular, so it probably wouldn't even bother to sound the alarm. Which was just as well, since he didn't want Barbara running out here, shiny silver sword in hand, and scaring the crap out of an already nervous Jenna.

“She lives in the house now, and just uses the trailer for
Baba Yaga business,” he explained as they walked up the driveway and arrived at the front of the house.

“Go ahead,” he said to Jenna, who stood there, one hand hovering over the door, clearly intimidated by the idea of who or what might answer. “I'll just be over here to the side.” He was curious as to how these two strong women would react to each other, plus, just maybe, he needed one more minute before he talked to Barbara for the first time in almost a year.

Jenna finally started to lower her hand, only to have the door open before her knuckles could touch the wood, as if by magic.

A woman stood there, wearing black jeans and a long-sleeved black tee shirt with a picture of a dragon on it. The caption underneath read
DO NOT MEDDLE WITH THE AFFA
IRS OF DRAGONS, FOR Y
OU ARE CRUNCHY AND G
OOD WITH KETCHUP
.

The woman was strikingly beautiful in a way that no one would ever mistake for merely pretty, with a cloud of long dark hair, piercing amber eyes, and a slightly hawkish nose. There was a scowl on her oval-shaped face and a huge white pit bull at her feet.

“What?” she asked, with the air of someone who might agree with the sentiments of the dragon on her shirt.

“Um, I'm sorry to bother you so early, but I'm looking for Barbara Yager?” Jenna smiled at the dog. “Your dog is very handsome, by the way. Would he mind if I petted him?”

The expression on the woman's face became a fraction less severe. “He'd probably love it. His name is Chudo-Yudo, by the way. But I have to tell you that if you're trying to sell me something while I'm attempting to get a small child ready for school, I will probably let the dog bite you.”

A tall, attractive man with dark blond hair appeared in the doorway behind her. “Honey, how many times do I have to tell you that you can't threaten to sic the dog on perfectly innocent strangers?” He grinned at Jenna, looking decidedly friendlier than his companion. “I apologize for my wife. I'm afraid we're still trying to get her house-trained. The dog, on the other hand, is perfectly harmless.”

“Unless you're trying to sell something,” the woman muttered. “Or hand out religious pamphlets.”

“I wouldn't think of it,” Jenna said. “I don't even want to borrow a cup of sugar. The Queen sent me and Mick to see the Baba Yaga. Is she home?”

The woman exchanged shocked glances with her husband and then stood on her tiptoes to look over Jenna's shoulder. Even the dog perked up, sticking his black nose in the air and snuffling.

“Mick? Do you mean Mikhail Day? Where is he?” she asked eagerly, amber eyes glowing. “Did he bring you?”

Day stepped forward out of the shadow of the house. “Hello, Baba. Hello, Liam. You're looking well.”

Barbara narrowed her eyes at him. “What was this, some kind of test?” She punched him on the arm, not all that gently. “It's about time you came to visit.”

“Wait. What?” Jenna stared at Barbara. “She's the Baba Yaga? The cranky old wicked witch?” She slapped her hand over her mouth, a minute too late.
Oops.
Day tried not to snicker.

Barbara sighed, and Liam pulled her close for a brief hug before letting her go. “She's only a little wicked,” he said to Jenna. “And way less cranky than she used to be. Would you like to come in?”

Barbara hesitated for one long moment and then stepped out of the way. “Yes, do come in. You obviously know who I am. This is my husband, Liam.”

She led the way into a cheerful kitchen with slightly worn wide-plank floors, cream-colored walls, and gray-blue cabinets. The sun was shining in past blue-and-cream-striped curtains, highlighting the dark-haired girl sitting at a long, rectangular wooden table. The child, who looked about six or seven, was perched on a high stool so she could reach the table, her pixie-cut hair, pointed chin, and sharp cheekbones making her look like a tiny urchin. A gigantic pile of pancakes sat in front of her on a glossy blue pottery plate. At the sight of Day, her whole face lit up.

“Mikhail! You came! Barbara said you would, but that we might have to wait for hell to freeze over first. Did it?”

As soon as she spotted Jenna, the girl set her fork on her plate, hopped down from the stool, and marched over to shake Jenna's hand briskly. “Good morning,” the urchin said politely. “Welcome to our home. My name is Babs. I live with Barbara and Liam now. I am eating breakfast. The pancakes are excellent. Would you like some?”

Jenna bit her lip, trying not to laugh. Mick smothered a grin.

“We're working on manners,” Liam explained, wiping at a smear of syrup on the small girl's face. “Babs was adopted from somewhat unusual circumstances, and she's still trying to figure out how things work here.” He smiled kindly at the child. “Very well done, sweetie. Why don't you go finish your pancakes before the bus gets here.”

“Do I have to go to school?” Babs asked, big brown eyes looking at Jenna plaintively. “We have a guest. She looks interesting. I think I might learn more if I stayed home than if I went to school.” She turned to Jenna. “I already learned my alphabet and numbers. Barbara says I am too smart for my own good, but I think being smart is excellent.”

“I think so too,” Jenna said. “But I will probably still be here when you get home. Your, uh, Barbara and I have a lot to talk about.”

“Excellent,” Babs said, and sat back down at the table.

“That's her word for the week,” Barbara said, mouthing
thank you
as she finished packing a lunch box sitting on the counter. Two fresh plates of pancakes suddenly appeared at the table, a cup of coffee steaming next to each one. “Sit down. You might as well have some breakfast since you're here.” It wasn't gracious, but Day figured that since the old Barbara wouldn't have even thought to feed guests, it still showed a certain improvement in her attitude. Clearly marriage to Liam agreed with his old friend.

A honking sound came from the road, and Liam scooped
up Babs, her lunch, and a sheriff's hat, somehow juggling them all long enough to give Barbara an extended and surprisingly passionate kiss. “That's my cue,” he said. “I'll be heading out to work after I take Babs up to the bus.” He hesitated, looking from Day to Barbara and back again. “Unless you need me to stay?”

Barbara cocked an eyebrow. “I'm sure that Mikhail wouldn't come all this way and not have dinner with us.
Would you
, Day?” The hint of a threat colored her words and Day nodded, although in fact he'd had no intention of staying any longer than it would take to drop Jenna off and explain her situation.

“Great,” Liam said, plopping his hat on his head. “I'll call you later and see if you want me to bring home anything for dinner.”

The kitchen seemed quiet and empty after the tall man and the chatty child left, and it was clear Jenna didn't quite know what to say to Barbara now that they were alone with her. After all this time, Day wasn't sure either.

The other woman solved the problem by sitting down at the table with a cup of coffee and gesturing Jenna to take the seat opposite her. “Go ahead and eat. A ride on the back of a motorcycle can work up quite an appetite. I have one, so I know that from long experience. If you'd rather not have coffee, I have a variety of herbal teas, too.”

“We didn't come by motorcycle,” Day said, trying to eat without talking with his mouth full. But it was tough, since the pancakes were light and fluffy, topped with real maple syrup and a pat of fresh butter. “We came straight from court. I took the liberty of bringing Jenna through the doorway in the Airstream, since it was a lot faster than going back to my place, then riding here. I hope you don't mind. My bike is still outside of Saranac Lake at the gate there, so I'm going to need to use the door again on my way back.”

The white dog, which had been sitting quietly at Barbara's feet, let out a loud
woof
. Barbara raised her eyebrows. “I agree, Chudo-Yudo,” she said to the dog. “It sounds urgent. Especially
if whatever it was actually got you to go back to court again.” Of course, to Jenna it sounded like barking, but after all these years, Day understood him perfectly.

“Um, you talk to the dog?” Jenna asked.

“He talked to me first,” Barbara said with a straight face. “It would be rude not to answer. And he's actually a dragon. He's just disguised as a dog because the neighbors might notice a ten-foot dragon in the backyard, and it is challenging enough to fit in as a Human as it is.”

Jenna glanced helplessly at Day and he shrugged. “You're the one who grew up on fairy tales. I don't know why you find any of this so surprising.”

Barbara gave Jenna a tiny smile, taking pity on the woman. “I'm sorry. We're teasing you, just a little. I suspect Liam would say we were doing it to avoid dealing with our uncomfortable emotions. He's full of nonsense like that.”

“Which doesn't make it any less true,” Chudo-Yudo said, reaching one large paw up to snag a pancake off of the table. “Are you going to ask them why they're here, or should I? It clearly isn't just a social visit, not after they came directly from the Otherworld.”

“The Queen suggested that there was no point in turning to you,” Day explained.

“Did she?” Barbara said, looking thoughtful. “How very interesting. I suppose that must mean you have a problem she thinks falls under my particular area of expertise, but for some reason she doesn't want to authorize my involvement. Care to tell me what it is?”

Jenna put her fork down with a thud. “My family was cursed by a faery. And if you can't help me, she's going to steal my baby.”

*   *   *

BARBARA
looked around the room. The woman had come into the house with a purse and a small backpack, which were still leaning against the wall in the front hallway, but she
didn't see a baby anywhere. Despite her time with Babs, she wasn't very good with children, but you'd think that she would have noticed something like that.