Read Cruel Enchantment Online

Authors: Anya Bast

Cruel Enchantment (42 page)

 
ceantar láir
Middle district. Fae “suburbia.” Also borders a mostly commercial area of downtown Piefferburg where the troop live and work.
 
charmed iron
Iron spelled to take away a fae’s magick when it touches the skin. Used in prisons as handcuffs and by the Imperial and Shadow Guards, it’s illegal for the general fae population to possess it. Charmed iron weapons were a major reason the fae lost in the war against the Milesians and Phaendir in ancient Ireland.
 
Danu
The primary goddess of the Tuatha Dé Danann, both Seelie and Unseelie. Also followed by some other fae races. Danu is accompanied by a small pantheon of lesser gods.
 
Furious Host
Those who follow the Lord of the Wild Hunt every night to collect the souls of the fae who have died and to help ferry them to the Netherworld.
 
Goblin Town
The area of Piefferburg where the goblins live. The goblins are a fae race that has customs that differ greatly from the other types of fae.
 
Goibhniu (Go-ive-nu)
Celtic god of blacksmiths, brewers, and weapon makers.
 
Great Sweep
When the Phaendir, allied with the human race, hunted down, trapped, and imprisoned all known fae and contained them in Piefferburg.
 
Humans for the Freedom of the Fae (HFF)
An organization of humans working for equal fae rights and the dismantling of Piefferburg.
 
iron sickness
The illness, eventually fatal, that occurs when charmed iron is pressed against the flesh of a fae for an extended period of time.
 
Joining Vows
Ancient, magick-laced vows that twine two souls together. Not often used in modern fae society because of the commitment involved.
 
Jules Piefferburg
Original human architect of Piefferburg. The statue honoring him in Piefferburg Square is made of charmed iron and can’t be taken down, so the fae constantly dishonor it in other ways, like dressing it up disrespectfully or throwing food at it.
 
Labrai
The god the Phaendir follow.
 
Netherworld
Where the fae go after they die.
 
Old Maejian
The original tongue of the fae. It’s a dead language to all except those who are serious about practicing magick.
 
Orna
The primary goddess of the goblins. Accompanied by many lesser gods.
 
Phaendir (“Fane-dear”)
A race of druids whose origins remain murky. The common belief of the fae is that their genetic line sprang from them. The Phaendir believe they’ve always been a separate—superior—race. Once allied with the fae, they’re now mortal enemies.
 
Piefferburg (“Fife-er-berg”) Square
Large cobblestone square with a statue of Jules Piefferburg in the center and the Rose and Black Towers on either end.
 
Rose Tower
Made of rose quartz, this building sits at one end of Piefferburg Square and houses the Seelie Court.
 
Seelie (“Seal-ee”)
Highly selective, they allow only the Tuatha Dé Danann into their ranks. Members must have a direct bloodline to the original ruling Seelie of ancient Ireland and their magick must be light and pretty.
 
Shadow Amulet
The one who wears the amulet holds the Shadow Throne, though the amulet might reject someone without the proper bloodline. It sinks into the wearer’s body, imbuing him or her with power and immortality, leaving only a tattoo on the skin to mark its physical presence.
 
Shadow Royal
Holder of the Unseelie Throne.
 
Sídhe (“Shee”)
Another name for the Tuatha Dé Danann (Irish) fae, both Seelie and Unseelie.
 
Summer Ring
Like the Shadow Amulet of the Unseelie Royal, this piece of jewelry imbues the wearer with great power and immortality. It also sinks into the skin, leaving only a tattoo, and may reject the wearer at will. This ring determines who holds the Seelie Throne.
 
Summer Royal
Holder of the Seelie Throne.
 
trooping fae
Those fae who are not a part of either court and are not wilding or water fae.
 
Tuatha Dé Danann (“Thoo-a-haw Day Dah-nawn”)
The most ancient of all races on earth, the fae. They were evolved and sophisticated when humans still lived in caves. Came to Ireland in the ancient times and overthrew the native people. The Seelie Tuatha Dé ruled the other fae races. When the Milesians (a tribe of humans in ancient Ireland) allied with the Phaendir and defeated the fae, the fae had to agree to go underground. They disappeared from all human knowledge, becoming myth.
 
Twyleth Teg (“Till-eg Tay”)
Welsh faeries. They’re rare and live across the social spectrum.
 
Unseelie (“UN-seal-ee”)
A fae ruling class, they’ll take anyone who comes to them with dark magick, but the true definition of an Unseelie fae is one whose magick can draw blood or kill.
 
water fae
Those fae who live in the large water areas of Piefferburg. They stay out of the city of Piefferburg and out of court politics and life.
 
Watt syndrome
Illness that befell all the fae races during the height of the race wars. The sickness decimated the fae population, outed them to the humans, and ultimately caused their downfall, weakening them to the point that the Phaendir could gather and trap them in Piefferburg. Some think the syndrome was biological warfare perpetrated by the Phaendir.
 
Wild Hunt
Comprising mystic horses, hounds, and a small group of fae known as the Furious Host, led by the Lord of the Wild Hunt, the hunt gathers the souls of all the fae who have died every night and ferries them to the Netherworld.
 
wilding fae
Nature fae. Like the water fae, they stay away from Piefferburg proper, choosing to live in the Boundary Lands.
 
Worshipful Observers
Steadfast human supporters of the work the Phaendir does to keep the fae races separate from the rest of the world.
Turn the page for a preview of the next paranormal romance from Anya Bast
DARK ENCHANTMENT
Coming April 2011 from Berkley Sensation!
HE
made her want to be bad, and Charlotte Bennett was never bad.
She lay on her side in bed, eyes slowly coming open, the remnants of an amazing nocturnal adventure still clinging to her mind. In adulthood her dreams had a tendency toward monotone colors and were about as interesting as the act of folding towels. This dream had been real enough to make up for a lifetime of black-and-white snorefests.
Rolling onto her back, she stared at the ceiling fan over her bed and groaned. Apparently her body was trying to tell her something. She was still tingling in places that hadn’t tingled in a very long time. Considering she hadn’t had sex in nine months, the reason for the dream probably wasn’t all that surprising.
That man! She’d never met anyone like him in real life. That was because men like the one in her dream didn’t exist. Her subconscious had probably fashioned him from bits and pieces of the heroes she’d read about in romance novels, or characters she’d seen in movies. He’d been—
The phone rang.
She closed her eyes for a moment, cursing it inwardly. Just a few more minutes cuddled under the covers, immersed in her dream would have been nice. Reality was about to steal away the clinging vestiges of the luscious, sensual experience—and the delicious man who’d given it to her. Ah, well. It couldn’t be helped.
She rolled over, grabbed the phone and gave a sleep-husky, “Hello.” At the same time, she groped for her glasses and shoved them on.
Pause.
Charlotte sat up a little. “Hello?”
“Charlotte? Is that you?”
“Harvey?” She sat all the way up, clingy, dreamy deliciousness now completely eradicated. Panicked by the only reason her boss would be calling on a Monday morning, she glanced out the window—daylight-bright she now noticed—and then at the clock. Shock rippled through her.
“Are you all right, Charlotte? It’s—”
She smacked her forehead with her open palm. “It’s ten a.m., I’m not there, and I haven’t called.”
“Ah . . . yes.”
She threw the blankets back and bolted from the bed, her bare feet going cold on the hardwood floor. “I don’t know what happened. I’m so sorry! I guess my alarm never went off. You must think I’m a total incompetent.” She stared accusingly at her alarm clock, which was set to play Tchaikovsky’s
1812 Overture
every morning.
She frowned. Her alarm clock had never failed her before and she never forgot to set it.
“That’s okay, Charlotte. This isn’t like you at all. You’ve never even been late, not once since you started working for us. Remarkable, really.” Harvey chuckled. “So we knew you hadn’t suddenly gone crazy and were sleeping off a bender or anything.” Chuckle. “Or that you’d had a hot date and were—”
Charlotte gave a forced laugh and tried not to grind her teeth. “Right, yes, of course. That would be crazy.”
“Of course it would. No, we just wanted to make sure you were all right. So, you’re coming in?”
“Absolutely.” She’d missed only two days of work in the last five years. Flu. Hand washing was so important. “I’ll be there within the hour.”
“Great, Charlotte. You know we’re lost without you.”
She smiled, warmth from the compliment suffusing her.
It didn’t take her long to get dressed, throw her hair up into a clip, and dash on a minimum of makeup. She grabbed her purse and headed out the door. It was now almost ten thirty. Her in-box would be growing more unmanageable by the moment. Stupid alarm clock.
Charlotte
.
She stopped with her hand on the doorknob, the low, shivery voice blowing through her like a breeze. That had been the voice of her dream man and it had come from . . .
inside her house
.
Blinking rapidly, as she did when she was nervous, she scanned the kitchen to her left and the formal living room to her right. Then she peered up the stairs to the second floor. All was calm. All was silent. The house was empty.
She gave her head a shake. “Crazy,” she muttered and headed out the door.
 
 
JUST
as she’d presumed, the papers on her desk had multiplied like rabbits. The problem with being a capable employee was that your boss had lots of confidence in you and that was a double-edged sword.
She paused at the entrance of her cubicle and stared at the pile of work for a moment, sighing. Then she firmly reminded herself that this was why she’d obtained her MPA from the University of Illinois, cheating herself out of a personal life while she’d done it. It was true that her position at Yancy and Tate wasn’t her ultimate dream, but it was a steppingstone to the career she really wanted. Everyone had to pay their dues and she was no exception.
“Charlotte?”
She jerked a little, startled, and turned to see Harvey behind her.
“Sorry.” He grinned, transforming his plain face into something close to handsome. He studied her for a moment. “You’re wearing glasses.”
Glancing at him, she touched the frames, readjusting it on the bridge of her nose. “I didn’t want to waste time with my contacts today.”
“Ah, well, glad to see you made it in.”
She entered her cubicle, setting her purse onto the only free space on her desk, and sank into her chair. “Glad to be here.”
“Just stopped by to remind you that we have a client meeting at one thirty.”
Panic shot through her veins as she remembered. “Tricities, Inc.?”
He nodded meaningfully.
She practically lunged at her desk. She’d totally forgotten and she had so much to do! “I’ll be ready, Harvey.”
He smiled at her. “I know you will. I have complete confidence in you.”
She spent what was left of her morning cutting through the pile of work on her desk and then, instead of taking a lunch, preparing for the meeting with Tricities.
By the time early afternoon rolled around, she felt caught up and prepared to make the presentation. Knowing she must also
look
prepared, she headed into the bathroom with her makeup bag and examined her face in the mirror.
“Ugh.” The sound echoed in the empty room.
Her face seemed sickly white and gaunt. She hadn’t had much time to fuss with her hair that morning and it was decidedly “pillow-styled.” She undid the clip, extracted her brush, and went to work. There wasn’t much she could do with the thick mass other than straighten it up and put the clip back in. That accomplished, she set her glasses aside and freshened her makeup.

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