Page 26

Twenty-three

“ H ello. May I come in?”

Sarah jumped, startled, turning toward the voice.

“Hello, Dallyn. It looks like you’re already in.”

Her odd neighbor stood in the center of her living room, hands behind his back, looking around, taking in everything. “Your door was open. I took that as my invitation.”

He smiled and she was once again struck by what an extraordinarily handsome man he was.

“What can I do for you?”

“Ah, lovely lady, first it’s what I can do for you.” He pulled a package from behind his back, extending it to her.

“You brought a gift for me?”

“I did.”

She rose from her desk to take the package. “What is it?”

“I have no idea. I’m not a snoop.”

“But you said…” She stopped herself and shook her head. She should know by now not to expect a logical conversation with Dallyn.

The postmark on the package was Edinburgh. R.S. in the upper left-hand corner. Ramos.

“I said I brought it and I did. Not that it was from me. How would I know what the package contains?” He spoke as if to himself. “No need to get your nostrils out of joint.”

“I’m sorry, Dallyn. My misunderstanding.” She set the package on the table and tugged at the brown paper wrapping.

“Yes, I suppose it is. Henry picked it up at the post today. Asked me to drop it by when I came.”

“Well, thank you. Let’s see what it is…oh my.”

The last of the mailing paper pulled away, exposing a square brown box, much like jewelry would come in. But it wasn’t jewelry. Sarah had ogled a box like this before.

“DeLafée,” she breathed.

Oh Lord, edible decadence in a box.

With a feeling nearing reverence she lifted the lid and admired the eight small tapered chocolate cylinders, each hand coated in edible gold leaf.

“Faeries?” Dallyn looked at her quizzically.

“Way better. Chocolate.” She held it close to her face and sniffed. “Ummmm. Swiss chocolate pralines.”

“Faerie chocolate? I never heard of such a thing before.” Dallyn still watched her, a small confused scowl wrinkling his brow.

“Faerie chocolate?” She frowned at him. What was he rambling on about now?

“DeLafée.” He pointed to the wording on the lid. “From the Fée. Faeries.”

Surrounded. Everywhere she turned.

“I give up.” To hell with what he thinks of me. I can’t possibly be any crazier than he is. “Apparently, Dallyn, I’m a descendant of Faeries. And since I’ve been in Scotland, they’ve gone out of their way at every possible turn to make sure I know it.” She took one of the little chocolates in her fingers, then offered the box to her guest. “Want one?”

“How delightful. You could say I descend from them myself, fair lady. Welcome to the family. And, yes, I think I would like to sample this Faerie chocolate of yours.”

She started to giggle, but the chocolate she’d bitten off melted in her mouth, oozing over her taste buds, and she moaned instead.

“I’m going to have to agree with you on that. This is quite delicious.” Dallyn took another tiny bite from the end of his piece. “Unique texture and flavor.”

“The taste of self-indulgence, Dallyn. These are pure decadence. Sit down and close your eyes while you finish it.” She followed her own advice. “I’ll have to give Ramos his due on this one. He sure knows how to pick an impressive gift. A tad ostentatious, maybe, but impressive nevertheless.” She smiled and licked a bit of the chocolate from her fingers.

“Ostentatious?” Dallyn still took tiny bites from his piece.

“He’s a man who likes to make a show of things. Spare no expense.”

“He spared no expense on this gift?”

“No, he didn’t. These are mighty pricey. About ninety-five bucks a box last time I saw them.” At his blank look she tried again. “Roughly forty-five or fifty pounds?” His look didn’t change. “Forget it.” Maybe the man really was one of the elusive Fae. That would certainly explain a lot. “You don’t shop much, do you?”

“I do not.” He was down to the last bite of his chocolate.

“Are you married?” At his look of alarm, she laughed. “Okay. I guess I have my answer to that one.” She held out the box again. “Want another?”

His hand wavered over the candy. “I probably should not.” But he took one anyway, again starting at the tip with a tiny bite.

Sarah took another piece as well. It was so rich she might regret taking a second one, but, you only live once.

“What are you doing here, anyway? Did you just come down to deliver the candy?”

“No, as I said, I was on my way here so Henry asked me to bring the package.”

“So…” She dragged out the word, waiting for him to fill in the blank for her.

He didn’t respond.

“Did you have a reason for coming by or was this intended to be a social visit?”

“Oh.” His eyes popped open like a man who’d forgotten where he was.

No doubt about it, she’d turned him into a certified chocoholic. You’d think he’d never had the stuff before.

“I had a reason.” He took another tiny bite, and his eyes fluttered shut again.

Patience at an end, Sarah leaned forward in her seat and placed a hand on his knee. His eyes fluttered open.

“What reason?”

“Oh. These are wonderful, you know? Yes, the reason. Well”—he smiled sheepishly—“to tell you that you can’t see the young man again who sent these to you.” He took another bite.

“What? You’re here to tell me I can’t see Ramos again? You’re joking. Right?”

She watched him for a moment. When his lack of response indicated he was serious, she felt herself getting angry.

“In the first place, what on earth makes you think you can waltz in here and tell me what to do? I think you need to explain yourself and pretty darn fast.”

Dallyn licked the last of the chocolate from his fingertips, and placed his hand over hers. “I haven’t waltzed in centuries, my dear.”

The smile he favored her with was pure seduction. She felt its impact down to her toes. Perhaps she’d underestimated the man. But, no, as before, there was nothing to fear in his touch. Still, she had an undeniable urge to fan herself.

“And as to why I think I can tell you what to do, that’s simple. It’s because it’s important to Ian that you not see this man again.”

At the mention of his name, Sarah jerked her hand back, using it to capture another chocolate. If Dallyn thought they were going to discuss Ian and what he wanted, she’d need more chocolate than she had in the entire cottage. A veritable swimming pool full of the stuff.

“What Ian McCullough wants or doesn’t want is of absolutely no consequence to me. And, since it would seem he still talks to you, you can tell him I said so.”

“You did promise him you wouldn’t see either of the Servans men again.”

“Yeah, well, obviously things changed.”

“You’re breaking your promise?”

She snorted her disbelief. “Yes, I am. I happen to believe that, based on his not sticking around, all bets—and promises—are off. Feel free to pass that little tidbit along as well.”

He had the gall to look offended. “How can you say that? After everything he’s done for you?”

“I beg your pardon? Everything he’s done for me? Look, I don’t know what he told you”—she paused, feeling her face color as it occurred to her what kind of a conversation the men could have had about her—“but he didn’t do anything for me.”

“Young woman, Ian McCullough gave you the greatest gift someone can possibly give. Is it too much to ask that you give him something in return? Something as simple as peace of mind, freedom from worry?”

“You aren’t making any sense at all. For the record, Ian gave me nothing. And I owe him nothing.” Sarah popped the remainder of the chocolate piece she held into her mouth and closed the lid of the box. At this rate, all that lovely chocolate would be coming right back up if she weren’t careful.

“Then allow me to explain so it does make sense to you. Ian’s gift of love saved your soul. Aren’t you willing to do the same for him?”

“Gift of…” She sputtered for a moment, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone speak. “Love? That’s not my idea of love. It’s pretty clear-cut. He got what he wanted and he left. No good-bye, no discussion, not even a note. Just gone. That speaks volumes to me about his so-called love.”

“But he did free your soul. He made you whole again, didn’t he?”

“Once again, Dallyn, you’ve lost me. I haven’t the foggiest notion of what you’re talking about.” As usual, he spoke in riddles—about what, she had no idea.

“It’s quite simple. You’re whole again.”

She threw her hands up and flopped back against the sofa, crossing her arms defiantly. This was getting worse and worse.

He tried again. “Think, Sarah. What do you want? What’s important to you? What do you care for most in life?”

Ian.

No, she’d never admit that to him. She grasped for something else. Something she could admit to.

“My writing.”

A large smile blossomed on Dallyn’s face. “I suspected you’d say that. It was Ian’s love that gave back to you the ability to write again. The ability that you’d lost when you first arrived. Creation comes from the soul. Your soul was bound and suffering when you came here, withering away waiting for you to accept what you are, waiting for you to find your other half. Ian is that other half.”

“Well, apparently you forgot to give Ian this pretty little speech. He doesn’t think he’s my other half. In case you missed the news bulletin, he’s gone, without so much as giving me the common courtesy of an explanation. As I said, no discussion, no good-bye, not even a ‘kiss my ass.’ So my soul’s just going to have to suck it up and get over it.” Just like I have to.

“You must understand, Sarah. He had a good reason for leaving.”

“Oh yeah. I’m sure he did. ‘Really important business,’ I believe was the excuse Henry stuttered over.”

“In a way. He left to protect you.”

“Protect me? Hardly. He left to get away from me.”

“You’re wrong. Just as your soul cried out for him, his is crying out for you even now. You must be willing to risk everything for him when the time is right, as he will risk everything for you. And for now you must be willing to do as he asks.”

“That is such a load of bull—” She stopped herself. Dallyn didn’t deserve her wrath. This wasn’t his fault. He was only trying to help his friend. “My risk-taking days are over. Understand this, and feel free to share it with Ian. I’ll see who I want, when I want, as often as I want, and there is nothing you, or Ian, or anyone else has to say about it.”

“So you’re going to see this young man again?”

“I am.”

“Sarah, do you have any idea of the chance you take? How you tip the scales of fate with your actions? Can’t you—”

“No,” she interrupted, and stood, walking to the door. “I think it’s time you left, Dallyn. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but it really isn’t any of your business. Please, just go.”

At the door he stopped, placing a hand on her shoulder. “When the time comes, I hope you’ll remember what I’ve said to you.”

“Whatever. Good-bye, Dallyn.”

Giving her shoulder a squeeze, he left.

She stood in the doorway, watching him walk away until he reached the curve in the path and she could see him no more. She walked to the desk and opened the drawer, pulling out her travel paperwork. Perhaps she should call the airline. It didn’t matter how high the charge to change her tickets, she didn’t think she could stay here much longer. Between the constant Faerie garbage and the painful memories of Ian, life was getting out of hand. She stuffed the envelope in her pocket.

A girl could only take so much.

***

Dallyn hated surprises.

Unless they were ones of his own making. Unlike this one. He especially disliked the ones he should have anticipated and prepared for. The ones that shouldn’t have surprised him at all.

It would appear things were a tad more involved than he’d thought. Obviously young Ian hadn’t been completely forthcoming about the extent of his relationship with Sarah. No matter. While it did complicate the situation somewhat, it also served to further confirm his initial suspicions.

Not that he’d needed confirmation after he learned that Ian had seen the woman’s soul. Anyone who was old enough to remember the before times knew that the only soul you could ever see was that of your Soulmate. Those two were meant to be with one another. How many lifetimes had passed with those two souls missing an opportunity to be together?

After the Nuadians disrupted the flow of the Fountain, this had been the fate of so many. That, along with the years of war, had directly contributed to the decline in the number of his people. It was exceedingly difficult to put the broken pieces back together, to right the flow, to reconnect the proper pairings of souls.

True, that wasn’t his job. His was only to protect. Others would have the responsibility to repair. And, yes, the High Council frowned upon any of the Fae meddling in the affairs of Mortals, but, on occasion, a little judicious meddling was necessary.

At least in his opinion it was.

He sat on the lowest branch of a tree outside the Portal door, twirling a fresh green leaf between his fingers. A storm was coming. He could sense the energies gathering in the air. He’d need to stay alert. Wait and watch for the opportunity he sought. It would only come once, and if he missed it, there was no telling how many more lifetimes would pass before another presented itself.

He smiled as he hopped lightly off the branch and disappeared through the Portal. What the High Council didn’t know wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Or so he hoped.

***

Sarah let the book she’d been reading fan shut. She leaned back on the cushioned bench and closed her eyes, shaken by the things she’d learned. The fragile old texts she’d so carefully stacked on the wooden table in front of her seemed to mock her now, as if the long-dead authors scorned her for how little she knew of her world.

After her conversation with Dallyn she’d been too rattled to concentrate on her writing. Tired of everyone explaining things to her as if she were a backward child, she’d gone to the manor house to ask if the nearby town had a library. It was time for some serious research.

Instead Henry had ushered her into his library and given her free rein. What she’d discovered was amazing. The McCullough library housed an impressive collection of works covering sacred texts, legends, religions and, what she’d actually sought, Faeries.

Wanting privacy, she’d brought the texts out here to the gazebo, where she could read without concern for being interrupted. And read she had.

As she sat forward, placing this last text on top of the others, her eye lit on a bulge under the far cushion and she stretched over to investigate.

Her sandal. The sight of it jarred her as the memories of the night she’d left them flooded back, washing over her. She’d completely forgotten about leaving them here. She stood and looked around, lifting all the cushions to peek underneath.

Only the one shoe in sight, the other nowhere to be found. Another mystery, as unsolvable for her at this moment as the one that had led her to this spot earlier today.

She’d spent hours out here perusing the Faerie lore collection, ending up as confused as she’d been before she started. Everything Ian had told her was documented in these texts, up to and including the Swiss name Servans. Everything except what she wanted most.

Everything except proof that it was real.

***

At the first tentative knock, Sarah considered ignoring the visitor, pretending to be gone. She wondered if Dallyn might have returned for another round of what he was dishing out today.

Hiding wouldn’t work. She might have shut her door, but the windows were wide open. Whoever was knocking had only to move a little to either side and they’d see her sitting there.

She’d never get her book finished at this rate.

Sighing in resignation, she rose and went to answer the door.

“Hello, dearie. Is everything all right out here?

“Yes, Martha. Everything’s fine. Why?”

“Well, yer door’s closed. You dinna ever keep it closed, except for after…” Her voice trailed off and she cleared her throat, keeping her eyes trained on her suddenly interesting feet. “You’ve a phone call up at the house.”

“Thanks.” For the call and for not finishing that earlier comment. She didn’t need to be reminded that everyone here knew how upset she’d been by Ian’s leaving.

Once again she followed Martha to the manor house and answered the telephone in the kitchen. Once again, an efficient female voice confirmed it was her on the line before handing the call off.

“Good afternoon, my sweet.”

“Hi, Ramos. Why do you do that? Have someone else call for you?”

A low chuckle preceded his answer. “I’m guessing some of the people there might prefer you not speak to me. If they knew it was me, I’m not sure I’d ever get to talk to you.”

“Ah. Good answer.” Before her conversation with Dallyn, she might have denied Ramos’s assertion. Now she suspected he could be right.

“Have you been thinking pleasant thoughts of me today? Like what a wonderful, generous bad boy I am?”

“I may have. But I’m sure you knew I would when you sent that little gift.”

He laughed. “Little? You wound me to the quick. Sweets for my sweet. Clever of me, wasn’t it?”

“A regular old box of candy wouldn’t do?”

“Not for you. It had to be a rich, sinful chocolate so I could imagine you with your eyes closed, making that little face of sublime satisfaction. Besides, sending a regular old anything wouldn’t fit my image.”

The tease she heard in his voice made her smile. “Yeah, I almost forgot. Bad boys like to spend big.”

“Everything about us bad boys is big.”

“Well, I guess I’ll be taking your word for that.”

“You don’t have to. I’d be happy to demonstrate.” He paused. “No?”

“No.”

His laughter filled the phone line.

“Not funny, Ramos.”

“But it is from my end of the conversation. I can picture you standing there, blushing bright red, with your attentive audience hanging on every word.”

She glanced behind her. Martha had her back turned, busily straightening the contents of a drawer. The same drawer she’d straightened the last time Sarah had taken a phone call from Ramos.

“Are you still coming tomorrow, or were the chocolates an apology?”

“I’m counting the hours, my sweet. So we’re still invited to come across your drawbridge and whisk you away?”

“We?”

Another laugh. “Of course. My traveling companions and I. I’m bringing a lovely bottle of wine in a particularly delightful vintage, and perhaps another, even more decadent form of chocolate to sweeten you up.”

“I like your choice of traveling companions. Yes, you and all your friends are invited to cross my drawbridge, your arrival highly anticipated.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear.”

A clatter from the counter behind her where Martha stood distracted her, nearly drowning out his response. The housekeeper had knocked over a box of pasta, scattering little uncooked tubes all over the floor.

“I need to get back to work. When do you think you’ll be here?”

“Is four acceptable? Or better yet, three. No, I don’t want to wait that long, two. Or…”

Chuckling, Sarah interrupted him. “Four. I’ll plan on your being here at four.”

“Until then.” His end of the line went dead.

After hanging up the receiver, she bent down and began picking up little pasta tubes, unsure whether the sudden feeling of dread that swept over her came from the woman who’d been eavesdropping on her conversation or the man with whom she’d spoken.