Through Time-Whiplash (8 page)

“Oooh,” Jazz seethed and glared up at him as he straightened. She played with her pendant and said, “Ah, but, Royal,
I
am the one with the charm, remember?”

He grinned suddenly. “So you are, though you haven’t a clue how to use it.”

She turned away from him and bent once more to the girl. “What is your name, sweetie?”

“Francine McGilley.” Her voice was quiet and still tinged with uncertainty as she kept her eyes focused on the ground.

“Well then, Francine, I am Jazmine Decker, and this big, handsome Fae is Trevor, Prince of Lugh …” She smiled up at the prince, noting that he appeared taken aback. She smiled to herself and said, “Oh, aren’t you used to being called handsome?”

* * *

Surprise raced through him. She had called him handsome? Well, of course he was, but until this moment he thought she was not aware of it. He frowned and then felt a wave of satisfaction. She thought him handsome. It shouldn’t matter, but perversely it did.

Jazmine Decker was complicating matters irrevocably for him. He spent too much time thinking about her, wondering what she was thinking, looking at her. Damn but he couldn’t stop looking at her. Everything about her attracted him to her. Her golden hair framed her piquant face … her nose, upturned slightly, and he constantly had an urge to touch it … kiss it, lower that kiss to her full, luscious lips and taste her tongue.

No time, absolutely no time for this.

And then he had stood back and watched her fight for the child’s well being. In that moment, he thought he had never seen a more beautiful creature in all his thousands of years.

He was affected by the child’s plight. He shouldn’t be, but there it was.

It was most disturbing.

He had always been very detached from humans, even more so than his brother, Prince Danté, yet he had felt fury establish itself as he stepped forward with every intention of picking the brute up and throwing him into another dimension.

Even though interference was prohibited, it had been his intention, but then he saw that his little Fios had it under control.

Idiotic pride swelled forcefully through him as he watched his Jazmine Decker take on a brute twice her size.

Why should he find himself proud of her? Ridiculous. Why should he feel any pride for anything she did? It had nothing to do with him, and yet he could not deny that he did.

Perhaps his admiration for the courage she constantly displayed had confused him about what he felt for her?

She was mortal
. She could be hurt. She could die. She could be maimed for life, but faced with these possibilities did not stop her from taking on a man of great size to spare a young human hurt.

In spite of his cool attitude about humans, he immediately was aware of feeling two things: respect for her and pity for the human child.

However,
now
what she was doing would plunge them into further complications. He didn’t have time for this. He had to track Hordly, get a hold of the orb, and use the pendant to call on the queen … if she could be called on from this time period.

He could not be embroiled in human affairs. His queen would be most displeased, but neither could he leave the girl to be beaten by the brute once they had departed.
Quandary.

Interference in this time period could be devastating for the future, but he didn’t think saving this child from harm would adversely affect anything. To the contrary. Maybe, in fact, that was why they had been pulled into the past. Perhaps saving this Fios child was their destiny?

However, they would have to be careful about other matters. It would be dangerous to do anything of consequence when in another time period. Even small matters, once altered here in the past, could mushroom towards the future and cause the fates to be altered. One could never know if that would be good or catastrophic.

However, the child was a Fios. That might work well when he presented his explanation to the queen.

At any rate, he could not refuse to take the child under his protection. He simply could not.

Would his brother, Danté, refuse to see the child to safety?
No
, nor would Danté’s mate, Z, allow the child to go unprotected. And he knew what Prince Breslyn would do. Bres would scoop up the child and find a way to wash, clothe, and feed her without delay. Bres would make certain his humans were safe. Suddenly, he smiled to himself. Could he do less than that?
Hell no.

“Very well,” he said. “The child remains with us until we can find a solution to the problem.”

And then, something inexplicable happened.

Jazmine Decker threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around him, and a wave of happiness flooded his senses. He had never felt such pleasure. He had never before felt such satisfaction. She, his little Fios, was pleased with him. His agreeing to care for the little one had found approval in her eyes, and he found himself absurdly thrilled by this.

Without thinking he hugged her back and put his chin on the top of her head. “Very well then,” he said. It occurred to him he could not, must not, become attached to his beautiful Fios.

She was mortal, and that was that.

* * *

A rush of emotion swept through Jazz.
The child was a seer
. It was fate! Fate had sent her and Trev back in time. They were supposed to save the girl from the horrible brute and keep her safe.

Jazz knew there were others of her kind but had never encountered one before, and now … here was this lovely little girl, and all her protective instincts kicked in.

And then Trevor, for all his show of ‘unconcern’, was, in fact, concerned. She was so thrown off kilter by everything Trevor, Royal Prince of Lugh, was displaying himself to be. He was a complicated being with so much more heart than he wanted to let on.

Before she knew what she was doing, she dove at him. Locking her arms around him as though holding on for life, she whispered, “Thank you.”

He set her apart and gruffly answered, “We must get her bathed and fed.”

She couldn’t believe her ears. Fae were
so not
cold-blooded, or at least
this one
wasn’t. He had thought of it all on his own—getting the child safely away, cleaning her, and feeding her.

She turned back to the girl and asked, “How old are you, Francine?”

“I like to be called Frankie, if you please,” the dirty-faced girl said, still not smiling.

“Frankie then, how old are you?”

“Eleven, but I’ll be twelve next month.”

Jazz grabbed her in a wave of sympathy and held her tightly until Frankie remarked with a groan, “Ye be crushing me …”

Jazz laughed and loosened her hold as she turned back to Trevor. “Yes, you are right, she needs a bath, some food, and some clothing.”

He rolled his eyes, but the next thing she knew he had blinked, and Frankie was clean and wearing a simple but pretty dress of pale green. Her hair was brushed and, though short, had a matching ribbon worked into the strands.

Frankie looked down at her dress and new shoes and at her arms where the dirt had been removed. Then she looked at Trevor, openly and with a warm glint in her eyes. “’Tis a lovely dress, it is,” she said simply, and Jazz thought she would burst into tears.

Jazz looked at Frankie’s face and said, “Huh? That bruise you had on your cheek seems to have faded.”

Frankie lowered her eyes and said, “I heal fast, I do.”

Jazz hugged her again and said, “Now, we need food.”

A sudden swoosh of air enveloped her; she looked at herself and realized Frankie was not the only one who had gotten a makeover.

She pulled at the pretty muslin gown of blue and laughed when she realized she was still in her comfortable hiking boots. A warm knit shawl of cream covered her shoulders, and her hair was a pile of curls at the top of her head. She touched the small pin box hat angled on top of her curls and wished she could see what she looked like.

She turned and found her Royal Fae had donned human Glamour. His blonde hair was slicked back, braided and tied at the nape of his neck. He wore a fashionable superfine of dark navy, breeches, and gleaming hessian boots. His cravat was tied intricately, and his silk pale blue waistcoat fitted his hard, muscular body in a way that made Jazz lick her lips. This was crazy, she told herself. She had to stop looking at him like he was something to explore.
No exploring
. He was Fae. She was Fios.
That was that
.

It all seemed too fantastical, and she thought she was going to have a fit of the giggles again. She got control, regarded him with an appreciative smile, and said, “So then, we are mingling with the locals?”

“I suppose eventually we must.” He sighed heavily. “In the meantime, if we must be seen, we should don the clothing of the time.” He suddenly reached for her hand and murmured, “Take the child’s hand. We need a place to stay.”

She took up Frankie’s hand and gave the girl a reassuring smile as Frankie clung to her, a desperate look in her eyes. Jazz said reassuringly, “It will be okay, honey.”

“Ye won’t leave me, will ye?”

“No, you and I—
friends for life
, and I won’t leave you till you are ready for me to go.”

“I’ll never be ready for that,” the girl answered softly, and Jazz kissed the child’s hand.

A moment later Trevor shifted them, and Jazz opened her eyes to look down at Frankie.

The girl was sniffing the air, and after a good long whiff said, “Hmmm.”

Jazz smelled it too. From somewhere the aroma of freshly baked bread and simmering food wafted on the air.

They stood in a great hall of what appeared to be a lovely and well-maintained mansion. No cobwebs, no sign of time, and yet, it was empty. Jazz had the feeling it had been empty for a long, long time.

She looked at Trevor and whispered, “Whose house is this?”

“You don’t have to whisper. There is no one here except us,” he replied.

“No one here? But … it looks so clean, and … I smell food.”

“Seelie Magic. Humans can’t see this place and pass it by even as magic maintains it ever ready for its owner.”

“Who is its owner?”

He laughed, and all at once his fingers lifted her chin, and he said softly, “So very inquisitive, Jazmine Decker.” He frowned then and dropped her chin as he stepped away. “All you need know is that we can remain here safely. It is heavily warded, and no Dark Fae may enter, not even a Dark Prince.”

“I see, but, again, whose house is it?” she pursued.

“As I said, it doesn’t matter—why do you want to know? You don’t know him.” Trevor looked around, as Frankie had broken away from them and was heading down the hallway.

He took Jazz’s hand and started to follow the girl, but Jazz pulled out of his hold and demanded, “It does matter. I need to know. Tell me.” She couldn’t say why, but somehow she knew that the more she learned the better equipped she would be to handle what was coming—and all her Fios senses told her something ugly was coming soon.

“We Royals enjoyed time travel until a few years ago. There were rules, and Prince Breslyn broke them more than he should. This place was one of his rule breakers. We are not supposed to set down roots in the human world, but he loves Scotland and Ireland …” Trevor shrugged. “Breslyn does what Breslyn wants, and most of the time the queen forgives him.”

“But he can’t get back here anymore?” she asked thoughtfully. “So we can’t expect him to swoop in and rescue us?”

“No, he can no longer travel through time. We are not certain, but we believe that even our queen cannot …” His voice trailed off, as Frankie was now out of sight.

“Come on—let’s go, sit, and have our dinner,” he said on a laugh.

“Oh, yes, that wonderful aroma … I am famished. How did you do that?”

“I am a Royal, Jazmine Decker. I can do many things. You would do well not to forget that.” His voice was low, and suddenly Jazz was sure he was going to kiss her. He was bending towards her. He was putting his arm around her waist. He was pulling her close.
Yes, yes, he was going to …

He bent to her ear and said in a low, husky voice, “Perhaps one day, you will ask me to show you some of the things that I can do …”

He unbent and led her to the kitchen, where they found Frankie already seated at the table, eating a basketful of biscuits and with a drumstick in her free hand.

~ Six ~

THE DARK PRINCE Hordly looked around at the old barn he had converted to serve his requirements. It had taken some concentration and a great deal of magic. He felt strangely drained from the effort.

He had never had to construct anything so elaborate. His life in the Human Realm during that final battle with Gaiscioch leading the charge had been short-lived. Pestale had always been the one to plan, construct, and execute. He had never had to build anything anywhere. It had all been provided for them by the Dark King; this had been a new and taxing experience.

He sneered when he thought of the Dark King. Hatred oozed through his body. Pestale still thought of the Dark King as a father, but he never had—how could he, when all he had been was a thorn?

He shut down such thoughts. He quickly enacted a spell of concealment so that his habitat would be hidden from the outside world.

He needed this place, this refuge where he could work and think and find a way back to his time without plunging himself into the Dark Realm.

The orb had closed the portal at the monoliths. He could not presently use that portal in its present state, but he was trying to recall the spell his brother had once perfected. Perhaps that spell would enable him to open another door from the past to his own time period … right in Killarney, where it had sucked him back instead of allowing him to remain in the present. Once in the present, he could work on a way to get his Morrigu and brothers out of the Dark Prison.

What might help was the residue created and left to linger in the atmosphere, when the orb first opened the portal, before it realized he was Unseelie. Could he harness that power …? He would only have a few more days to collect it before it was too weak to be of any use. The question was how—how to collect it?

However, now he needed rest. He needed to return to his full potency because the Seelie Prince was hunting him, and he knew sooner or later the Royal would find his hideaway.

He went to the cabinet drawer that held the Seelie orb and held it in his hands, no longer concerned that he would be recognized as Unseelie. The orb already knew.

The feel of the Seelie artifact made his skin crawl. It was as though the crystal was repulsed by him and in turn gave his skin the sensation that hundreds of Dark Fae bugs skittered all over his flesh.

Hurriedly he set it on the round table he had created. He sat with the window flanking him so he could look out on the meadow.
It was all so beautiful.
Green and fresh no longer existed in the Dark Realm, only decay—decay left by the hapless monsters the Dark King had created and abandoned.

At his back, two human women played with one another on his large bed, ignorant of anything other than their sexual needs. He found his lust for human women was bottomless. He couldn’t get enough. They were lovely and moved so beautifully beneath him. They expired so easily but were also easily replaced.

He enjoyed their passionate displays, but that was for later.

He spoke the words of enchantment and asked to be shown where the Seelie Royal, Prince Trevor, could be found. The orb did not respond.

“I am Seelie—
you must
obey me,” he told the orb, as he had the first time he had used it.

It had responded immediately then, unaware of the Unseelie inside him as he had been careful not to touch it. Too soon the Seelie orb realized its mistake and withdrew its magic. That was why and how everything went wrong. It was what had landed him in the past.

“You are tainted,” the voice rebuked. “You are not Seelie but a Dark Fae!”

“Obey me. I am the Dark King’s son!” he snapped.

“You are the Dark King’s abomination,” it murmured contemptuously.

“Don’t tease my temper, Orb. I am made from the Dark King’s essence, and you must obey,” he said, using a threatening tone.

“You have Seelie in you, but the Unseelie in you prohibits me from granting you what you want. It is enough I allowed you into the Human Realm.”

“You threw me back in time,
and that is forbidden
.” Hordly sneered as he spoke.

“I did not throw you back in time. I granted your request before I recognized you for an Unseelie. My magic pulled back—thus, here you are.”

“Show me the Seelie prince, help me, and in the end I will return you to Faery,” Hordly offered.

The orb was silent for a long moment and then said softly, “You have no magic to return me to Faery.”

“I will leave you for the Seelie prince to find once you get me back to the Human Realm in my time.”

Again, the Orb was silent. “Your word is meaningless.”

“You can scan me for the truth,” Hordly returned.

The orb turned dark, and Hordly felt as though something had entered the center of his brain, something with feathery tentacles.

When the orb spoke again, it was a simple word: “
Witness
.”

The Dark Prince saw at once that the Prince was within a warded estate. He could not look inside the huge mansion, and he fancied he heard the orb chuckle over the fact.

“Damn you!”

“Did you think to trick a Seelie Relic?” Then the Dark Prince did, in fact, hear the orb laugh.

He picked it up and threw it across the room. It fell hard, rolled, and continued to laugh before it said, “You have many choices, Dark Prince. It is yours to choose wisely.”

Hordly controlled the rage threatening to overtake him. He needed a plan. What would Pestale do? What would Pestale caution? Suddenly, he had a plan that could work.

He knew the Seelie Prince would not remain safely behind the wards. He would, without a doubt, venture out to locate him, and he would have the lovely he had called Jazmine Decker with him.

What he needed to do was get a hold of her again and, this time, imprison her. That would make the Seelie Royal come to him.

His grin spread, and he turned to the human women in his bed. He liked his plan because, damn if he didn’t want to explore the human, Jazmine Decker!

* * *

Dinner was over, and Frankie had been tucked comfortably in her bed. She oohed and aahed over the softness of the mattress and the sweet scent of the pillow and the coverings. She clung to Jazz for a long moment before she whispered, “Please … don’t leave me … promise you’ll take me with you when you go.”

“I promise that you will stay with me until I find you a proper home,” Jazz said, stroking Frankie’s brown curls.

“No,
I
don’t want any other family. Just you—” Her chin pointed towards Trevor. “—and him,” Frankie said vehemently.

“Well, Trevor and I aren’t going to be to, well … we … well …” Jazz sighed and decided to give up on that explanation. “Tomorrow is a brand new day, and we’ll see what it brings.”

She left her then and, as she closed Frankie’s bedroom door, saw Trevor shift off. She sighed worriedly to herself. However, no sense fidgeting about it now—other matters needed attending.

She found her Royal seated by the fire in the library poring over an ancient manuscript. “What are you doing, Trev?”

“Remembered this manuscript. It might help, and what do you mean, calling me Trev? Since when did I become Trev to you?” He frowned at her.

“From the moment you displayed that big open heart and helped me take care of Frankie. So, I repeat, whatya doing … Trev?” The tease was alive in her voice, and he responded with a grin.

“Just thought I would investigate your pendant …
the queen’s pendant
.”

“Huh?” Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t really know how to use it, do you? Oh, I should have guessed when you didn’t immediately try!”

“I do know how, but it can do many things, I want to be certain I manage it correctly.”

“Well, I tell you what. This is what I’m going to do.” Jazz held the pendant in her hand and whispered a spell that had been handed down from generation to generation. No one had ever been able to translate it, and it had occurred to Jazz that perhaps it had something to do with the queen’s charm.

And it did.

Suddenly the atmosphere in the room changed. It was warm, almost tropical. For a moment, Jazz actually expected coconut trees to pop up. And then it was as though the air right in front of them took on shape and folded back to display a dark, round opening. That opening filled with light, Jazz smelled gardenia and pine, and then the face of the most astoundingly beautiful creature she had ever seen appeared. Jazz knew this was the face of Aaibhe, Queen of the Seelie Fae!

“Ah, Trevor,” the queen said softly. She then directed her gaze to Jazz and added, “And you, my dear, are a McWallen.”

Trevor rose to his feet and bowed his head briefly before he spoke. When he did, he put one arm and fist across his chest in what Jazz fancied was a warrior’s allegiance to his queen. “My Queen, it is not Pestale who escaped but his brother Hordly. However, he did not make it to our time in the Human Realm, but to the year 1816, and we were dragged into the past with him.”

“I see,” the queen said thoughtfully. “And what is your plan?”

“I have my death weapon and am on the pursuit,” Trevor answered.

“And you must keep my Fios safe,” the queen said with an urgency that surprised Jazz.

“I mean to whether she wills it or not. She, however, wishes to return to her time,” the Prince said and sighed heavily.

“No, no, I don’t—I mean, I did, but now … there is Frankie, and I think I can help the Prince get Hordly, and—”

“I accept your very brave offer, Fios, but tell me, who is Frankie?” the queen said softly.

Jazz made a lengthy explanation, and the queen’s bright eyes glittered. “You both may remain with my prince for now, and I expect that you, my Jazmine, will watch over the Fios child.”

“Can we get out of the past using this pendant?” Jazz dared to ask. “My … er … Queen.”

Aaibhe chuckled. “Indeed, in a manner of speaking, but I should like you to retrieve the orb that Hordly has in his possession and return him to the Dark Realm first.”

“Big order,” muttered Jazz.

“But we can handle it.” Trevor grimaced at Jazz.

“Tell me something,” the queen said suddenly. “You have taken up residence in a mansion whose wards are strongly infused … so strong I can feel them. Tell me now, Trevor, whose home is this?”

“Er … ah … well,” said Trevor.

“It has Breslyn’s style and scent, so there is no need to tell me.” She shook her head. “It always astounds me that each time he breaks my rules, it turns out for the best.” She sighed and said, “Pestale has remembered everything. The waters of the Cauldron were tampered with, no doubt by his brothers. He did not receive its full strength. The brothers should all have been made to drink at once.” She sighed heavily. “The Dark King has once again found other matters to divert him from his promise. It is always thus, and so we must handle the situation we are left with. I am depending on you, Trevor, and on the Fios McWallen.” She paused and then softly said, “Pestale has sent me a message. Imagine the gall—he managed to crack open the Prison Wall long enough to shove through a drone who delivered the message before Morgan LeBlanc put it out of its misery. It was galling to have an Unseelie in Tir. It has never happened before, and that in itself was a message. Pestale believes he will be successful in his renewed efforts to take control of Tir and the Human Realm.
There is
something different in him. I feel it, know it, saw it in the language and style of his delivered message. I believe he has received the means inadvertently from the Dark King to break free with an army. I have assembled my team once more, but I need you to contain Hordly. He and Pestale must not be reunited outside the Dark Realm.”

Once again, Trevor’s arm crossed his chest as he bowed his head. “So it shall be done, my Queen.”

“To do so, you must retrieve the orb,” the queen said as she faded from sight.

Trevor and Jazz looked at one another, and then without warning he took two long strides to her and took her hungrily into his arms as his mouth sought and found hers!