“Really potent,” Carina answered. “That man’s magick is so strong that even standing in his wake a woman feels a little intoxicated, but it’s false.” She turned and embraced Drem. “My attraction to you is completely real.” Her voice, low and honey soft, convinced everyone within hearing range of her honesty.
“Do
you
think he’s ‘potent,’ Aislinn?” Drem asked, curving his thin lips into a teasing smile.
She watched the man disappear through the ornate gold and rose double doors leading into the throne room at the end of the hallway. The last thing she saw was the trailing edge of his coat. Behind him scurried a cameraman and a slick, well-heeled commentator from
Faemous
, the annoying human twenty-four-hour “news” coverage of the Seelie Court that the Summer Queen found so amusing. “A woman would have to be dead not to see his virility, but if he’s got any special sex magick, it’s not affecting me.”
Drem shifted his green eyes from her to stare at the end of the hallway where the man had disappeared. “So detached and cool, Aislinn?”
She shrugged. “He doesn’t make me hot.”
“You’re the only one,” Carina muttered. Her husband gave her a playful swat on her butt for punishment. She gasped in surprise and then laughed. “Look over there. He’s the reason no men are making you hot right now.”
Aislinn followed Carina’s gaze to see Kendal in all his glittering blond glory. He stood with a couple of friends—people who used to be
her
friends—in the meet-and-greet area to socialize outside the court doors.
Ugh.
Kendal locked gazes with her, but Aislinn merely looked away as though she hadn’t noticed him. She’d wasted too much time on him already. She could hardly believe she’d ever thought she’d loved him. Kendal was a social climber, nothing more. He’d used her to further his position at court, for the prestige of dating one of the queen’s favorites, and then tossed her aside. It had worked for him, too. That was the truly galling part.
“I have nothing to say to him,” Aislinn said in the coolest tone she could manage.
Carina stared at him, her jaw set. “Well, I do.” She began to walk across the corridor toward him.
Aislinn caught her hand and squeezed. “No, please, don’t. Thank you for being furious with him on my account, but that’s what he wants. The attention feeds his ego and Kendal doesn’t deserve it.”
“I can tell you what that weasel
is
deserving of.”
Aislinn laughed. “You’re a good friend, Carina.”
The doors at the end of the corridor opened and a male hobgoblin court attendant stepped out, dressed in the gold and rose livery of the Rose Tower. “The queen requests the presence of Aislinn Christiana Guinevere Finvarra.”
Aislinn frowned and stilled, looking toward the doors at the end of the corridor through which Gabriel Cionaodh Marcus Mac Braire had recently disappeared. Why would the queen wish to see her?
Carina pushed her forward, breaking her momentary paralysis. Aislinn moved down the corridor amid the hush of voices around her. She’d grown used to being the topic of court gossip lately. The Seelie nobles didn’t have much to do besides get into each other’s business. Magick wasn’t a valuable commodity here, practiced and perfected, like it was in the Unseelie Court.
She entered the throne room and the heavy double doors closed behind her with a loud thump. Caoilainn Elspeth Muirgheal, the High Royal of the Seelie Tuatha Dé Danann, sat on her throne. Gabriel stood before her, his back to Aislinn. The Imperial Guard, men and women of less pure Seelie Tuatha Dé blood, lined the room, all standing at attention in their gleaming gold and rose helms and hauberks.
It always gave her shivers to stand in the throne room before the queen. Arched ceilings hand-painted with frescoes of the battle of Cath Maige Tuired
,
depicting the Sídhe taking over Ireland from the Firbolg, who were humans in their less evolved and more animalistic form, instilled a sense of awe in all who entered. Gold-veined marble floors stretched under her shoes, reaching to rose quartz pillars and walls. It was a cold place despite the warm colors, full of power, designed to intimidate and control.
The Unseelie, Gabriel, seemed utterly unaffected. In fact, the way he stood—feet slightly apart, head held high, and a small, secretive smile playing over his lips—made him seem almost insolent.
The
Faemous
film crew had been allowed within. They stood near a far wall, the light of the camera trained on the Summer Queen and Gabriel. Though now the camera turned to record Aislinn’s entrance. The silver-haired female commentator—Aislinn thought her name was Holly something—whispered into her mike, describing the goings-on.
Ignoring the film crew, as she always did, she halted near the incubus, yet kept a good distance. The last thing she was going to do was fawn like most women. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him do a slow upward appraisal of her, the kind men do when they’re clearly wondering what a woman looks like without her clothes. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. Maybe he was so arrogantly presumptuous that he felt he didn’t have to.
Aislinn was seriously beginning to dislike this man.
She curtsied deeply to the queen, difficult in her tight Rock & Republic jeans. If she had known she was going to be called into court, she would have worn something a little looser . . . and a bit more formal. Today she was wearing a gray V-neck sweater and wedge-heeled black boots with her jeans. She’d twisted her hair up and only dashed on makeup. This was not an event she’d planned for.
The queen, as always, was dressed in heavy brocade, silk, and lace. Today her color theme was a rich burgundy and cream, her skirts pooling at her feet like a bloody ocean. The royal’s long pale hair was done up in a series of intricate braids and heavy ruby jewelry glittered at her ears and nestled at the base of her slender, pale throat. She wore no makeup because she didn’t need it. Her beauty was flawless and chilly. Her style, as ever, old-fashioned. It worked for her.
Caoilainn Elspeth Muirgheal gestured with a slim hand, the light catching on her many rings. “Aislinn, please meet Gabriel Mac Braire. He is petitioning the Seelie Court for residency, in case you hadn’t already heard. It seems word has spread through court about it. I am still considering his case. As you know, we don’t often grant such requests.”
Yes, but there were precedents. Take Ronan Quinn, for example. He was a part-blood druid and Unseelie mage. He’d successfully petitioned the Summer Queen for residency in the Rose Tower over thirty years ago because he’d fallen in love with Bella, Aislinn’s best friend. Not long after his residency had been granted Ronan lost Bella and consequently fell into a state of reckless despondency that had lasted for decades. Last year he’d pulled some mysterious job for the Phaendir that had nearly gotten him beheaded by the Summer Queen. In the end, Ronan had retained his life and won Bella back—but both had been banished from the Rose Tower as punishment for Ronan’s transgressions. Aislinn didn’t know where they were now.
She missed Bella every single day. Bella had been the only one to know her deepest and darkest secrets. Without her presence, she felt utterly alone.
That entire story aside, Ronan Quinn was one example of an Unseelie male who’d managed to find a place in the Rose. Gabriel, like Ronan, was exceedingly good-looking. That would weigh heavily in his favor. The queen couldn’t resist a virile, highly magicked man.
“He’ll be staying here for the next week and I have decided you shall be his guide and general helpmeet while he’s here.”
“Me?” Aislinn blinked. “Why me?” The question came out of her mouth before she could think it through and she instantly regretted it. One did not question Caoilainn Elspeth Muirgheal; one simply obeyed.
The Summer Queen lifted a pale, perfectly arched brow. “Why
not
you?”
“With all respect due you, my queen, I think—”
“Do you have a problem with my judgment?”
Oh, this was getting more and more dangerous with every word the queen uttered. The room had chilled a bit, too, a result of the Seelie Royal’s mood affecting her magick. Aislinn shivered. “No, my queen.”
Gabriel glanced over at her with a mocking smile playing on his sensual, luscious lips.
Nope, she didn’t like him one bit even if he did have sensual, luscious lips.
“That’s a good answer, Aislinn. Do you have a problem with Gabriel? Most women would kill to spend time with him.” The queen gestured airily with one hand. “I thought I was doing you a favor after your . . . unfortunate incident with Kendal.”
Oh, sweet lady Danu. Aislinn gritted her teeth before answering. “I don’t have a problem with him, my queen.”
The queen clapped her hands together, making Aislinn jump. “Good, that’s all settled then. You’re both dismissed.”
Aislinn turned immediately and walked out of the throne room, Gabriel following. She didn’t like having him behind her. It made her feel like a gazelle being stalked by a lion. He’d soon find out this gazelle had fight. There was no way she was going to lie down and show him her vulnerable, soft stomach . . . or any other part of her body.
They exited into a corridor thronged with curious onlookers. Carina, partway down the hall with Drem, made a move to walk to Aislinn, but Aislinn held up a hand to stop her. All eyes were on her and Gabriel. She didn’t want to linger here and she really didn’t want anyone listening in on their conversation and using it to weave rumor. They could watch
Faemous
for the juicy details, just like everyone else.
Falling into step beside her, Gabriel surveyed the scene and ran a hand over his stubble-dusted, clefted chin. “Is it always like this over here?” His voice, deep and low, reminded her of dark chocolate.
“Like what?” she snapped in annoyance.
He encompassed the corridor with a sweep of his hand as they made their way down. “All the Seelie nobles standing around and gossiping.” He glanced at her stern expression and sobered. “Never mind. Forget I mentioned it.”
“Insulting my home is not a good way to start things off, Mac Braire.”
“Call me Gabriel, and I wasn’t insulting it. I was making an observation. I want this to be my home, too, remember? That’s why I’m here.”
“Sounded like an insult to me,” she muttered, hightailing it away from the clumps of Seelie nobles doing exactly what he’d just accused them of. Although he walked faster than she did. She had to fight to keep up with the strides of his longer legs.
“I apologize.”
“How does the Shadow King feel about your defection from the Black? He can’t be very happy.”
Gabriel gave a low laugh. “He’s not. I’m taking a huge gamble. If the Summer Queen rejects me and I lose the protection of the Seelie Court, I may lose my head, too.”
“You don’t seem all that nervous about it.”
“I don’t live my life in fear. Anyway, I’ve lived so long that I’m a thrill seeker. Anything to break up the monotony. Anything for change, Aislinn.”
The way he pronounced her name sent a shiver down her spine. He rolled it on his tongue like a French kiss, smooth and sweet as melting candy.
It made her miss a step and deepened her annoyance.
She picked up her pace and matched his strides once more. “Listen, I don’t know why the queen selected me for this job, but the last thing I want to do right now is babysit you.” Ouch. That had been harsh. She winced as the words echoed through her head. He hadn’t done anything to her and she wasn’t sure why she was feeling so hostile. It had to be because of her recent breakup with Kendal. Gabriel reminded her of him.
Every man reminded her of him.
She still felt so raw and vulnerable. She needed time alone to lick her wounds and heal. The last thing she wanted was to be forced into spending time with an obvious womanizer who could wield sex as a weapon. Literally. Perhaps she was using this man as a scapegoat for her wounded pride and broken heart. If so, that was wrong . . . yet she couldn’t seem to help herself.
He halted, hand on her elbow. “Whoa. Look, Aislinn, if you feel so strongly about it, I’m sure I can find someone else to ‘babysit’ me.”
She winced again, turning to face him. She was being a bitch and needed to rein it in. Regret pinched her and she opened her mouth to apologize.
“It’s too bad you don’t want to spend time with me, though, since I have news of Bella and Ronan. They’ve been anxious to get back into contact with you.”
Danu
. Bella and Ronan? So they were at the Unseelie Court, after all. Aislinn had assumed they’d gone there, but wasn’t sure whether or not the Shadow King had allowed them residence in the Black Tower.
The Seelie Court was called the Rose Tower because it was constructed of rose quartz. The Unseelie Court was referred to as the Black Tower because—never to be outdone—it was made from black quartz. The delivery of large quantities of each had been allowed by human society and the Phaendir, and magick had been employed to make it usable as a construction material.
Gabriel walked ahead of her, intending to leave her in the dust. Damn the man! He’d tossed that last bit out, and then left, to punish her. He knew she’d chase him. Clearly her first impulse to dislike the man had been dead-on.
“Hey.” She took a couple of running steps to catch up with him. “I’m sorry. I’ve been unfair to you. You’re all alone and could clearly use a friend”—although she was sure he’d end up with plenty of “friends” here soon enough—“and someone to show you around. Let’s start over.”
He stopped, turned toward her, and lifted a dark brow. “Ah, so you do want to know about Bella and Ronan.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I mean, yes, but I didn’t say that just to have news of them. This is about me being fair and giving you the benefit of the doubt.”
“Benefit of the doubt? What movie about me have you made in your head, sweet Aislinn? And without even knowing me.”