Myriah Fire (36 page)

“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.

“Take her home, Shawn.”

“Of course, my friend, we will see to her…”

I turned and saw Gaiscioch with a look on his face that made me lose all control. I was on him before he could shift away.

Rage filled me as I tore into him, beating him even though he attempted to ward off my blows. I am a royal, with powers untold, power and might never to be used in such a physical fashion against a lesser Fae. It is a sacred rule, one I broke that evening.

I screamed obscenities at him, and every time he tried to land a blow my way or block my onslaught, I pounded him. He fell, and I was on top of him, hammering and beating; I had called for my Death Sword and it was in my leveled grip when suddenly my wrist was held fast.

I looked up to see my closest, most dearest friend, Danté, Prince of Lugh, holding me with back with determination. He whispered, “You may not kill a fellow Fae, Bres…”

“Get off me!” I demanded.

“No, Bres…if you kill him, you will be forever banished…or worse. He is the queen’s trusted friend.”

“Do you know what he did?”

“Yes, I ran into Shawn on my way to visit with you at MacClean…I know.”

“Aaibhe will not punish him for this.”

“She is a just, good queen and will sanction him. We will see to it. He has interfered with a human life. He will be sanctioned before all the Council.”

He pulled me off Gaiscioch, who was lying in a pool of his own blood. He was an immortal, and he would heal quickly. The Death Sword would have put an end to his miserable life, and knowing now what he would become, I often think of that day and wish I had incurred banishment rather than allow him to live.

* * *

Proof is a tenuous thing, and when I brought Gais up on charges before the Council, Danté stood at my side ready to support my accusations; however, the only thing he had witnessed was me beating the hell out of Gaiscioch.

The devil covered himself well. I proclaimed, “He threw her naked in the tavern.”

He answered, “She tore off her clothes just outside the tavern and threw herself down in the mud, hugging my ankles, begging me to keep her.”

“You tortured her till she went mad!” I spat at him.

“She was insane…I didn’t know it till it was too late,” Gais responded.

He had an answer for everything I threw at him, and he was the queen’s trusted friend. They decided to believe I had been mistaken—that I had seen things through my clouded dislike of him, my jealousy that the human had gone with him instead of me. It was humiliating and defeating.

The queen came to me and said what I needed was a mission, and one in which only I could help her as her worthy prince. I knew she was trying to bolster my spirits. I knew she wanted to get me away from Gais because she saw the ‘intent to kill’ in my eyes.

Ete tells me that was a defining moment for me and that writing it all down will be important, and Ete is wise beyond her years.

All these things went into making me the Fae prince I am now, she says, and so I am putting pen to paper so to speak because I did learn a great deal from that experience.

Destinee remained with the MacCleans. She was a broken woman…off in a world of her own … and the name she called in her sleep was his, Gaiscioch, for she had been a woman in love…
with him
.

I visited with her often, sat with her, and now and then she would be lucid and laugh before vanishing once more into her ‘other world’, but each time before her thoughts wandered and took her to safety, she told me of Gais’s false promises and then of his endless abuse. I have often thought I should lie in wait for him and return the favor…

And then the queen came for me at MacClean and said we had a mission. A creature, a vampire-like creature, Lamia DuLaine, was about to ruin the life of a member of the queen’s favorite Druid families. Queen Aaibhe said the time had come to act, and yet, how could we prevent the inevitable if we adhered to the rules of non-interference?

My queen said we would find a way to help without breaking the rules.

Yeah, right—and at this point I think it time to hand over the pen, because this is where Legend truly begins …

~ One ~

IN THE SPRING in
the year of 1814 was when DuLaine first saw him. It was as though she felt the humanity in herself all at once, all over again.

However, in reality more than a thousand years had passed, and the humanity in Lamia DuLaine had been extinguished long ago.

She watched him. He was tall, and his black waves of hair framed a chiseled, roguishly handsome face. His deep blue eyes twinkled as he conversed and laughed with his companions, unaware of her stare.

She watched and chided herself. He was a man, only a man. However, there was something magnetic in his appearance. There was something glowing in his aura. There was something that made her feel—and she never felt anything for anyone, other than Shamon.

She sensed greatness in this man and more…something she could not name. She felt suddenly alive. She could feel electricity vibrate off his body and fluctuate in a rhythm that penetrated to a place her soul had once occupied.

She couldn’t look away from him.

She felt a fire heat her forehead, burn her cheeks from deep within her body.

In that short space of time, she knew she had to have him. She had to walk beside him, lust with him, and make him her own!

It had been a glance, just a glance, but it would change her life forever!

That was how it all began to crumble. That was when it all went wrong for
h
er.

Until then, she had reigned supreme. No one had ever touched her essence in such a manner. No one alive, no one human, knew the full secrets of her powers. Until then, until the spring of 1814, she had been mistress of her world.

Until then, no one had defied her will. Because of him her life, her needs, her force would change. Because
of them
, Legend began…

* * *

The queen
and Breslyn hovered in another dimension to observe the creature DuLaine and plan their strategy. At this point, the queen advised Breslyn, his mission was to observe and report—nothing more.

His silver eyes glittered with irritation and uncertainty. “Observation isn’t going to be enough. At what point do we do something to avert disaster? For that is where the situation is headed.”

“You are too impatient, my prince,” said his queen softly.

Her behavior and explanations thus far were things he found frustrating. What he needed was action and possibly a good fight to dispel his mood.

The Queen of the Fae was amazingly beautiful—so much so that few humans could look directly at her. She had a grace of form and movement. Her light blonde hair fell in silky waves to her waist. Her eyes of many colors were full with the wisdom of her age, her experience, and her rare intelligence. She rarely took any deep interest in humans, for their lives were too short to concern her; however, these particular humans were different.

Maxine Reigate and Julian Talbot mattered to her for deep-seated reasons. She had carried her secret for centuries, and suddenly things were beginning to unravel indelicately. The matter had to be handled, and she trusted Prince Breslyn to aid her in this.

“Breslyn…you must watch both the Reigate child and Julian for me. I have other proceedings to attend to in Council.”

He looked down through the airwaves she had parted like a curtain and there saw Lord Talbot. He switched scenes and saw the woman he had come to think of as
the beast,
Lamia DuLaine.

“We could arrange to have the DuLaine taken—that doesn’t break the treaty exactly, now does it? I mean, she isn’t really human anymore.”

The queen bristled. “You know better. We may not play with Destiny. Anything we do must be the least invasive of all possibilities. You must try and explore other avenues. I trust in you to do this, Breslyn.”

He bowed his head. “Perhaps my Queen could be a little more forthcoming with what the bloody hell she wants me to do then?”

She smiled indulgently. He was her favorite prince, her most loyal council member, and she allowed him much. “Indeed, my Prince. You may tweak matters…you may bend situations, but you may not cut the threads. Understood?”

He gave her a slight nod. It was going to be a nuisance. Such things always were. However, he knew the queen of his race had a compellingly personal stake in the outcome of this mission. Thus, he would unquestioningly do what she asked—well, perhaps not quite unquestioningly, for that was not his way, but in the end he would get the job done. He knew he should be remembering something, something about the Talbot fellow and the queen, but he couldn’t quite grasp just what it was. At any rate, he knew that the Talbot Druids were favorites of the queen, and at the moment that was all he needed to know.