Motor City Fae (19 page)

“The concussion’s not gone, but you won’t be passing out before you reach your car now.” Sutton shot a stern look at Meagan. “But you should drive. He needs some rest.”

“You heard the man, Ric. Hand over the keys.”

The fact that Ric complied without comment worried her more than almost anything else. Meagan jingled the keys as she blinked back a tear. “Okay, so let’s all hit the road.” She turned to her friends. “Take care of each other, okay? And thanks. All of you.”

They all nodded. “Remember the amulet,” Elise called weakly as Meagan and Ric moved out of the garage.

Jase broke free of George to give Meagan a hug. “You owe me one hell of an explanation, baby girl,” he muttered, before turning to Ric. “You best be taking care of my girl, here.”

“I will,” Ric vowed. “George and Greg will explain everything.”

Greg walked with them to the car and Meagan thought she could still see a hint of the wolf in his alert posture and watchful brown eyes. “Call me,” he told Ric as Ric folded himself into the passenger seat. “You need me, I’ll get there.”

Ric clasped his friend’s hand. “Thanks. Contact Aidan if you can, see if he needs you.”

“Got it.” Greg straightened and saluted Meagan who was trying to adjust the driver’s seat for her much shorter legs. “Take care. And don’t let all the prissy posers get you down.”

She’d wanted to drive the Jag, but not under these circumstances. She pulled out of her driveway and looked at Ric. “Where to?”

Ric reached up and pulled a pair of black Ray-Ban sunglasses off the visor. He put them on, snapped his fingers and handed her another pair. “Chicago.”

She put on the sunglasses, grinned and shifted the purring engine into first gear. “Well, Jake, it’s a hundred and six miles to Chicago. We got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it’s dark and we’re wearing sunglasses.”

Actually, Chicago was closer to three hundred miles and it was still broad daylight, but Ric got the reference.

He snickered, leaned his head back against the headrest and replied, “Hit it.”

Ric was asleep by the time they hit the interstate. He was so exotically handsome in repose that it was all she could do to keep her hands on the wheel instead of on him. The only other thing holding her back was the knowledge that he’d been hurt. Because of her. That really sucked big-time. Normally she’d have worried about letting him sleep off a concussion, but Desmond had told her it was the best thing for him.

All this time Meagan had known Elise, she hadn’t even known she had a brother, let alone that they were both some sort of magic-users. Which, of course, wasn’t quite as weird as the Novak brothers turning out to be werewolves. And she was a half-elf. Who else in this world was more than they’d seemed? Well, there was that one ex-boyfriend she could have sworn was a vampire.

Who knew, maybe he really was? The world was turning out to be a lot stranger than she’d ever believed.

It wasn’t quite rush hour yet, so they got out of Detroit pretty quickly. Meagan hoped that the spell for being ignored by the cops was on the car instead of on Ric, because she was putting the Jag through its paces.

The problem with being the only one awake was that there was way too much time to think and Meagan had done more than enough of that already. Now she just wanted to get on with it all, find some kind of resolution so that nobody else got hurt. And maybe, if she was really lucky, she’d get some semblance of her life back. That would be nice, too.

Except that her old life hadn’t included Ric. And going on without him was going to be a bitch.

When had she fallen in love with him? Somewhere before the sex, probably, which meant before she’d seen the pointy ears. Even then, she had known he was a professional musician, out of her league and always on the road. She’d been fully cognizant that, to him, this was a temporary thing. She had only herself to blame for falling head over heels.

She turned on the stereo, wishing that she had some of Ric’s music to listen to, to keep her company, but of course he didn’t listen to himself in his own car. Instead, she pushed Play and cruised along to the sounds of the punk rock he’d had on earlier.

That was fine. “Sunshine Highway” seemed strangely appropriate as she drove. So did frequent checks of her rear-view mirror, even though she had no idea who—or what—she was looking for.

They were past Kalamazoo when Ric finally woke. His headache was mostly gone. He owed the
Wyndewins
now and wizards wouldn’t forget. Still, favors owed and returned was part of being a successful spy and when you came down to it, that’s what he was. Llyris’s spy. Shit was going to hit the fan when the queen found out about the
mionn
he’d sworn to Meagan. It was going to take all of his skill to make sure the fallout landed on him, instead of on the woman he loved.

“You awake?” Meagan must have seen him stir.

He straightened in his seat, relieved to find most of the pain had vanished during his nap. “Yeah,” he replied, reaching across the gearshift to squeeze her thigh.

“Thanks for driving.”

“No problem. I’ve been wanting to get behind the wheel of this baby. How’re you feeling?”

“Pretty much like I’ve been flattened by a truck.” He saw her wince and amended his answer. “But better than before. Sutton did a good job with the healing. I’ll be fine after I get some food and a chance to stretch out the kinks.” By the look of the sky it was early evening, which meant they’d probably get almost to Chicago in the daylight. Good.

“We’re getting low on gas, anyway,” she told him, flashing that rueful smile that made his stomach clench.

Or maybe it was only hunger. “We could stop at the next truck stop.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

His stomach growled and she laughed. “Couldn’t you blink yourself some food?”

Duh!
Seconds later he had a coffee cup in his hand and a diet soda for Meagan. Another blink and a pair of warm, buttery scones sat in his lap. He’d have to add a few bucks to his monthly check.

“Thanks.” Her murmur was muffled, since she already had a mouthful of scone. She washed it down with a swig of the soda and stuck the bottle between her thighs, since the Jag predated the era of cup-holders.
Lucky bottle!
“I have got to learn how to do that.”

“Soon.” He’d teach her that at first opportunity.

Transporting small objects was easy, one of the first tricks Fae children usually learned. Hopefully he’d have time in the next few days to teach her some basics, so she didn’t look totally helpless at court.

“I don’t suppose you could collect our luggage?” Her voice was wistful. “Or at least my suit? I’m not looking forward to meeting a queen in a pair of filthy shorts and a tank top.”

“When we get to Chicago.” He’d be able to, if he remembered exactly what he was teleporting and where it could be found. Otherwise it could get tricky. But if need be he could have the Chicago Guardian arrange to have something delivered.

“Do you think they’re following us?” They’d drifted along in silence for a while, so the question startled Ric, who’d been nodding off again.

“Yes.” He was too off-kilter to prevaricate.

“Oh.”

Damn, now he’d scared her. That was good, in a way, because if she was scared, she’d be more careful, but he didn’t want her unhappy. “But they can’t be absolutely sure of where we’re heading. Cleveland is actually the closer portal to Detroit. Hopefully, they’ll think we’re going there.”

“So why aren’t we?”

“Partially because it’s the most obvious.” She nodded at that, quick to pick up on the strategic advantage. “Also because the Guardian in Chicago is someone I trust implicitly. Unless she’s hit by the same kind of treachery as Aidan, the Chicago portal is likely to be safe, whereas I seem to recall that Cleveland has a few of Owain’s followers on the staff.”

“Got it.” Her fingernails tapped softly on the steering wheel for a second, as though she was having an inner debate. Finally she gritted her teeth and turned to glance at him. “She?”

Ric laughed. Goddess, she was jealous. Silly though it was, the thought of her being possessive of him was flattering and, well, warming, in some strange way. “She. Lady Deirdre of the Night Sky, or as she goes by in this incarnation, Diandra Knight. She’s an old friend of mine.”

“Friend or
friend?
” She practically growled the last word. He could see her skin flush, feel her own embarrassment over her reaction.

“Both, I suppose, though we haven’t been
friends
since long before you were born. We had a moment or two, back in the Victorian era, before we decided we preferred each other as friends without the benefits.”

“Just out of curiosity, how many of your former
friends
can I expect to encounter at court? And are any of them going to be trying to skewer me when my back is turned?”

“You’ll meet a few. With a lifespan like ours and a culture that doesn’t blink at promiscuity, you get around a bit. I can’t think of any with cause for animosity, however. I’ve not gone around breaking hearts. It’s always been a bit of fun on both parts.” No, the only exlover he could think of who might have a grudge against Meagan was Llyris herself and that wasn’t about love at all, but power and possession. His headache came back.

He needed to tell Meagan about his relationship with the queen, to explain why he couldn’t admit to caring for Meagan once they crossed the portal.

“There’s a truck stop.” She pointed at the upcoming exit ramp. “Should we take a break?”

“Please.” A good stretch would do wonders for his stiff and aching muscles. Some real food would do even more.

Fifteen minutes later they’d fueled the Jag, fueled themselves with some personal-sized pizzas and availed themselves of the restrooms. Meagan was clutching a jumbo soft drink as they headed back to the car. She’d also purchased a doughnut for now and half a dozen chocolate bars, claiming she was going to need them in “Elfland.” Goddess, she made him laugh almost as often as she made him hard.

Ric was still looking shaky, but he insisted he was fine. He’d demanded his keys back, blinking them out of her hands when she’d refused. Elf guys were still guys, she supposed. Still had to be all macho and tough, still hated to let a girl drive their car.

“Did it take a long time to learn magic?” There was so much to learn about this wild new world and so little time.

“Did it take you long to learn to paint?” he countered.

“Or is it something that was always part of you and grew as your knowledge and skills increased?”

“Got it.” It made sense if you looked at it that way, she guessed. As least as much as the terms
magic
and
sense
could go together.

Next to the parking lot was a small grassy area with two scarred wooden picnic tables. It wasn’t exactly a park, but after two hours in the car, it looked awfully inviting. She gestured. “Can we sit outside for a minute?”

Ric hesitated a moment before nodding and turning toward the grass. “Only for a bit, mind. We need to keep moving.”

“As soon as I finish my doughnut.” She’d gone for the biggest, gooiest, chocolate-frosted, cream-filled concoction available, figuring that after the day she had, she’d earned some chocolate therapy.

Ric sat right beside her on the bench. They leaned back against the table, facing the parking lot. When Ric draped an arm around her shoulder, she snuggled into his comforting heat.

There were people in the lot, but no one paid much attention to anyone else, so she didn’t resist when Ric leaned over and kissed a glob of Bavarian cream off the side of her mouth. Instead, she kissed him back, keeping her hands to herself, but letting him know with lips and tongue what she’d like to be doing if they were alone.

There was a sweetness to this kiss as well as the usual hunger and the rightness of it almost brought tears to her eyes. She felt like she belonged here in his arms like she’d never belonged anywhere else. Ever.

She was so caught up in the mind-blowing heat of Ric’s lips and tongue and hands that she never noticed the two men who must have been hiding behind the scraggly trees. She only knew that when Ric wrenched himself away from her, dragging her bodily off the bench and behind him as he stood, she felt as though a part of her had been unceremoniously hacked off.

Meagan heard a pathetic whimper that probably came from her. Ric didn’t say a word, but an enormous, glowing sword appeared in his hand. She had to peek around his shoulder and wished she hadn’t. Two men…no, elves—they hadn’t bothered with a glamour—

stood facing them. They both had glowing swords, too and they were advancing on Ric and Meagan with cold, calculating
death
in their tilted eyes.

Ric stepped forward, one hand brandishing his sword, the other pushing Meagan more firmly behind him.

Meagan’s eyes were locked on that giant hunk of sharp, shining metal and so were those of Ric’s opponents. She could tell he wanted their attention focused on him, not her. When she got through being scared, that was liable to piss her off.

Where was a state highway cop when you needed one? Meagan looked frantically toward the parking lot for help.

Surely someone would notice a sword fight, even if they’d ignored an R-rated kiss. That’s when she spotted something really odd. The patch of grass where they stood seemed to be encased in a giant soap bubble. A filmy, iridescent dome surrounded the area. Without her new elfray vision, she doubted she’d even be able to see it, but she’d bet anything it shielded them from the view of the other customers of the truck stop. Way too many people were looking right past three pointy-eared guys in leather jackets wielding swords. Obviously, this spell was a lot stronger than the look-the-other-way spell Desmond had used at her house.

Maybe it was a force field. To test that theory, she threw the remains of her Super-Gut-Buster soda at the shimmering dome. Sure enough, it sizzled where it hit and bounced right back onto the grass. Damn, so much for running for help.

The two assassins closed in on Ric, seemingly content to deal with him first and ignoring her. The metallic clash of sword on sword echoed harshly through the enclosed space, while outside, people pumped gas and wiped windshields in total oblivion.