Page 27

“ You canna allow this to happen. You have to do something to stop it.”

Ian balanced the receiver between his ear and his shoulder as he hopped from one foot to the other, pulling on his pants.

“I did all I could.” Dallyn’s voice floated to him over the line.

“I canna believe that. Yer without a doubt the most powerful man I know and yer telling me you canna make one small woman bend to yer will?”

“She may be small, but she’s a mind of her own, that one.”

“Did you no remind her of her promise? She said she’d no have anything to do with that man.”

“I did remind her.”

Ian huffed an irritated breath as he hunted for his shirt in the pile of clothing he’d dumped out of his suitcase.

“And? Did she have a response?” Sometimes it felt like pulling teeth to get a straight answer from the Fae.

“I believe her exact words were something along the lines of all bets being off because you’d left. Oh, and promises. She included promises as being off as well. Said I should feel free to tell you that.”

“Bloody, stubborn woman. Well, you simply have to keep them out until I can get there. That’s all there is to it.” He tucked the receiver under his chin while he pulled on his socks.

“How do you expect me to do that? She’s invited them. It’s out of my hands.”

He had felt so safe. So sure there was no way they could get to her. Never once had he considered she would invite them across the water. Unless they could be stopped, unless he could get there and stop them, the last six centuries of his life would have been wasted.

“You must do something.”

“What would you have of me? Should I try to talk them off the estate?” An unusual trace of irritation sounded in Dallyn’s voice, fueling Ian’s concern.

“I dinna care what you do. Or how you do it. Stop them however you like. You canna let them cross onto the property.”

“If I had the power to do anything violent on the Mortal Plain, we never would have needed Guardians, now would we? My job is to meet them on the other side of the Portal with whatever amount of force is required. If you fail in your job. Stopping them before they enter the Portal is your job, Ian. It’s why you’re supposed to be here.”

He felt the rebuke in Dallyn’s words. Deserved it and much more. Of course he was supposed to be there. His being there was all that stood between life as it is now and a return to utter chaos.

His being there would also mean Sarah’s death.

How could Dallyn sound so sure of himself? Ian wanted to rage, to throw the phone through the wall, to pound someone’s face. It was a testament to his sheer force of will that he managed to speak at all.

“What time did you say she’s expecting him?”

“According to Martha, they should arrive at four.”

He glanced at the clock. Half past one.

“Dinna let her out of yer sight, not for an instant. Swear it to me.”

“I will do my best.”

“No. I’ll have yer oath on it. No double talk, no Faerie riddles. This is too important.”

“I so swear.”

“Good enough.” Ian slammed down the phone without waiting to hear more. Sliding into his shoes, he grabbed his keys and cell phone off the coffee table and ran for the door.

He flipped the phone open, hitting the speed dial as he sprinted toward his car.

“Danny? No. I’m no coming. Shut up and listen. I’m on my way to the airport. I need a plane ready to take off in the next twenty-five minutes. And I’ll expect a car waiting when I land. Oh, and make sure it’s a fast one.” He flipped the phone closed and unlocked the door of his own automobile. Too bad it wouldn’t be waiting when the plane landed.

There was no possible way he could get to Thistle Down Manor before Ramos and whoever would be with him. The best he could hope for at this point was arriving in time to prevent total destruction.

The best he could pray for was accomplishing that without sacrificing Sarah.

***

Three forty-five. Fifteen minutes and counting. Sarah’s hand shook as she applied her mascara.

Soft music filled the cottage along with the aroma of lasagna bubbling in the oven. The table was set, the kitchen cleaned, and still she couldn’t quite rid herself of the feeling of impending doom that had settled over her at the end of yesterday’s telephone call.

“Stupid.”

What was the absolute worst that could happen? She could burn dinner. No, the absolute worst-case scenario would be a renegade asteroid impacting the earth and destroying all life.

She smiled at herself in the mirror as she picked up her lipstick pencil. Way too much Science Channel television. The asteroid option was one she could quickly discard.

But she couldn’t rid herself of the unnamed dread so easily, or the nerves that accompanied it, so she gave up on the lipstick, opting for a little clear gloss. Better no color at all than looking like she’d had her makeup done by a deranged preschooler.

One last quick inspection in the mirror before she flipped off the light, closed the door and headed to the kitchen to check her lasagna. After all, she hadn’t ruled out the burning-dinner scenario.

Everything looked fine. She turned off the stove, leaving the casserole inside to finish and stay warm. She rolled down her sleeves and buttoned the cuffs at her wrists. She was as ready as she was going to get.

Anything else? Another glance at the table and she thought of the beautiful etched crystal pieces she’d seen in the top cabinet above the refrigerator. She dragged a chair over, climbed up and retrieved two delicate wineglasses.

Ramos said he was bringing a bottle of wine.

She had just finished drying the freshly washed goblets when a light knock sounded at her door.

“Come in,” she called as she started toward the sound, both wineglasses still in her hands. “Look what I found in…” The words froze in her mouth as she looked up.

An unsmiling Ramos stood in her doorway, but it was the sight of the people who accompanied him that brought her to a halt, silencing whatever thought of small talk she’d had.

Reynard Servans and Nicole Tanner flanked him.

The delicate crystal slipped from Sarah’s hands unheeded, shattering on the floor at her feet.

***

Three forty-five. Ian glanced at the clock on the dashboard and silently cursed. He had been driving for twenty minutes, battling traffic as he raced toward home. At this speed, it would be at least another forty-five minutes and that was assuming optimal conditions. He flipped open his cell phone and dialed Henry again, apprehension as high as his impatience.

Four rings. Five. Where could they be? Six. No one had answered the last two times he’d dialed.

“McCullough residence.”

“Martha. Thank the Fates.” Relief flooded through him, leaving a vague weakness in its wake. “What’s kept you from answering the bloody telephone?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I canna get either of them for you right now. His Lordship is in London for a time and Mr. Henry is unavailable.”

“It’s me, Martha. Ian.” Had the woman gone daft?

“Yes, yes I know. But you’ll have to figure it out on yer own. Everyone’s tied up here. Good day.”

The click that followed vibrated with an ominous air of finality.

Silence pressed at him from the telephone he gripped in his hand as fear clawed at his gut. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

He pressed the accelerator toward the floor, fearing he was already too late.

***

“Mon petit cadeau de la fée.” Reynard smiled as he reached her side. “What a shame. Your lovely crystal is ruined.”

“What are you doing here?” Sarah’s reaction added to the doubt growing in Ramos’s mind.

“You invited me. Aren’t you pleased to see me again?” Reynard’s hand closed around her upper arm and he pulled her toward him.

Watching the reflection of dread grow on Sarah’s face as his father’s grip tightened on her arm, Ramos regretted not having pursued the subject of what she’d sensed in the man when he’d had the opportunity. Suddenly it seemed of utmost importance to him to know why she had reacted so violently to his father’s touch.

“Father.” Ramos hadn’t intended the rebuke to sound so sharp, but his concern was building. Things were not going at all as he had hoped.

Reynard’s head snapped up, irritation filling his eyes, as his hand dropped to his side. “Very well. As you wish. For now.”

“What’s going on here, Ramos? Why are these people with you?” She backed away from Reynard, her hand rubbing the spot where he had held her.

Ramos crossed to her, placing his hand on her shoulder and, in the process, discreetly inserting his body between her and his father. “Let me explain.”

Reynard interrupted. “We’ve some unfinished business, you and I, ma petite. That’s what’s going on.”

She ignored Reynard, perhaps the first time Ramos had seen anyone disregard his father so completely.

“You can begin your explanation with what she’s doing here.” Sarah tilted her head toward Nicole, her voice faltering just a little. “And by telling me what’s wrong with her.”

Reynard had insisted on keeping the Mortals who’d traveled with them under a compulsion. Ramos had argued against the practice to no avail on their way here.

“A simple compulsion, Ramos. It doesn’t harm them in the least and it makes everything progress so much more smoothly,” Reynard had claimed. But it concerned Ramos that his father gave no thought to free will or the value Mortals placed on it.

Ramos glanced at Nicole now. As much as her emotionless stare unnerved him, it was obviously more upsetting for Sarah.

“She’s all right, don’t be frightened,” he started.

His father interrupted again. “I’m attempting to allow you to do this your way. Sit her down and explain our needs now or I will be forced to do it myself.” The promise sparking in Reynard’s gaze was disquieting.

“I don’t understand any of this, Ramos.” Sarah’s gaze remained focused on him.

“I know.” He led her to a chair, kneeling down in front of her after she sat. “We need your help, Sarah.”

Hurt shone in her eyes. None of this was what he’d wanted. He’d known it should be handled differently. If only his father had given him more time. In time, his friendship with Sarah would have allowed him to explain all this to her, to ask for her help. But once Reynard had learned of the Guardian’s departure, he’d insisted on moving forward immediately.

“Then why not just ask me for it the first time we spoke? Why all this charade of flirting and being my friend?”

An inelegant snort issued from his father. “Friends. Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t be friends with females. Especially not her kind. They respond only to total domination.”

Sarah’s eyes narrowed as she slowly looked up at Reynard. “My kind? What kind would that be?”

His father glanced at her dismissively. “Mortal, of course.”

Any number of emotions skittered across Sarah’s face, ending with a carefully blanked mask settling there.

“As opposed to whatever you are, I assume. And that would be what exactly?”

In spite of what Ramos had feared, she remained calm, her voice actually growing stronger.

“A true Fae, of course.” Reynard arched an eyebrow. “A full-blood.”

“Ho-ly shit.”

She surged up from her chair, the mask gone, replaced with pure anger. Ramos rose in unison with her, holding her where she stood.

“I am sick to death of all this Faerie garbage. Has everyone in this whole freakin’ country gone totally insane?”

“It’s not garbage, Sarah. It’s real. Surely you know that by now.” He had to calm her down. An angry Sarah would result in an angry Reynard. And that was something to be avoided at all costs.

“Father, will you now give me a moment alone? As I’d asked?” He bit off each of the words sharply.

***

Some unspoken emotion passed between the two men in that moment, communicated in the force of their locked gazes. Sarah couldn’t name what it was, but she could feel the friction of it crackling in the air around her, dancing across her skin.

“Very well. You may have your moment, Ramos. But make it quick. I’ve grown weary with all the waiting.” Reynard flicked his wrist and Nicole, clutching her handbag, obediently followed him out the door.

“Please. Sit.” Ramos motioned to the chair behind Sarah.

Sincerity flowed from him, so, in spite of her confusion and anger, Sarah decided to give him a chance to explain. She sank back down and he knelt in front of her just as he had before, his hand on the arm of the chair.

“Many centuries ago my people lived under the tyranny of their despotic rulers. They finally revolted, fighting for their freedom, their very lives, but they were overcome by treachery. The victors showed no mercy. My people were banished from their homes, thrown out into the wilderness, left to fend on their own. All these years they’ve suffered, struggling to survive in a harsh, alien environment. Now, at last, with your assistance, they have the chance to return to their homeland. Won’t you help them, Sarah? Help us?”

“Us?” She waited for his nod before proceeding. “First I need answers, Ramos. Will you give them to me?”

“If I can.”

“You called him ‘Father.’ You’re telling me your people are”—she paused, hating to say it, to give it credence by speaking the word out loud—“Faeries?”

As Ian had claimed.

“In spite of how it may look, Reynard is my father.” He shrugged. “Those from the Faerie don’t age in the same way as Mortals.”

From the Faerie. The phrase was everywhere. De la fée. In the books she’d read. The candy he’d sent. Reynard’s comment.

“Your father said something to me when he came in. Something about the Faeries. What was that?”

Ramos looked perplexed for a moment. “Ah, yes. Mon petit cadeau de la fée. My little gift from the Faeries.”

“Because he thinks I’m descended from Faeries as well. And that’s why you think I can help you?”

“We know you’re descended from our people, my sweet. And that is why you can help us. You have the ability to see the doorway to the Realm of Faerie. With your assistance we can enter and take back what is rightfully ours. We can reclaim our homes from the evil tyrants who tried to destroy my people.”

Every word she had read about the Fae passed through her mind. Everything she had been told. She had written off Will’s stories as imagination and fancy, but she knew in her heart the child had not lied to her. She would have felt a lie. Especially from someone whose emotions had been so closely tied to her own. When Ian had tried to explain more to her, she hadn’t wanted to believe him either, but, again, she had known he wasn’t lying. And she had the information from what she’d read.

Time to put all that knowledge to the test. Time to make a decision. Could she accept the knowledge as fact? And if she did, what then?

“The battle between your people and the others, it was fought here in this world at one time?”

Ramos laid his hand on top of hers. “Yes. Until the evil ones found a way to steal the powers of my people, leaving them stranded and defenseless in this world.”

She looked down at his hand clasping hers. He believed what he told her.

“Were you there? Did you see this happen, experience it?”

He shook his head, a sad little smile on his face. “No. Like you, my sweet, I’m half Mortal, and only recently born into this world.”

“Recently?”

“You must understand, in comparison to a true Faerie’s life span, my twenty-eight years is nothing.”

“So you know of these things from…?”

“My father.”

Reynard. The most concentrated evil being she had ever experienced.

“It’s all a lie, Ramos.” Her decision was made. “What he’s told you is not what happened at all.”

He blinked rapidly, the only outward sign of his inner turmoil. “No. My father wouldn’t lie to me.”

“Of course I wouldn’t lie to you, boy.”

Ramos jumped to his feet at the sound of his father’s voice.

“Has she agreed to help yet?”

“No. I won’t help you.” Her decision was made. She would not be talked about as if she weren’t present. And she would not help the ones Will had so aptly termed the “really bad guys.”

In the blink of an eye Reynard crossed the room, grabbing her hand and dragging her close to him, his breath fanning over her face. “Enough. You will do as I say.”

Sarah felt a tingle, something like every hair on her body standing on end, but she’d been prepared for his touch this time. She already knew the feel of evil. She’d banished it from her being once before and didn’t plan to allow it another foothold.

“You know, for such a superior being, you don’t hear so well. I said I won’t be helping you.”

Ramos’s quick intake of breath only momentarily distracted her attention, and not for long enough to prevent her seeing shock pass over Reynard’s face.

He quickly schooled his features, hiding whatever he might feel. But he hadn’t removed his hand from hers. He was disturbed by something that had just happened. Disturbed and surprised.

Just as she was disturbed by the smile slowly growing on his face and the satisfaction she felt replace his surprise.

“Oh, but I think you will, ma petite. The old man who lives up in the big house? You like him, yes?”

What she didn’t like was the gleam in Reynard’s eye or the excitement she felt building in him. “Henry? What have you done to him?”

“I haven’t done anything to the man. But should you continue to refuse us the assistance we need, I can’t speak for what might happen to him. Or his hired help.”

Martha and Peter, too. Sarah felt ill. “You wouldn’t hurt those poor people.” She jerked her hand from his grasp as a new thought occurred to her. “You can’t hurt them. You don’t have any power to battle in this world.”

Reynard studied his fingernails as he walked toward the door, stopping there to smile at her again, a slick, oily expression that made her stomach knot.

“No, you’re quite correct about that. I can’t do anything to your friends. But someone else might.” He looked at his son. “Tell her, Ramos.”

“Not you! You wouldn’t do something like that.” She couldn’t believe it of him.

Ramos lowered his head, but not before she’d seen the sorrow evident in his eyes. “Bradley Tanner holds them in the house now.”

“God knows Brad’s a complete jerk, with no consideration for anyone. But he wouldn’t do anything to hurt those people.” The relief she felt was short-lived.

“Perhaps not if he were himself,” Ramos conceded.

“Why is he not himself?” Doubt crept through her and she stole a glance at Nicole. The woman stood quietly, too quietly, at the door, a completely blank look in her eyes.

“At last you begin to understand.” Reynard laughed as he snapped his fingers and Nicole came to his side. “You see? Mortals are so easy to control. Aren’t you, my pet?” He ran the back of his fingers lightly down Nicole’s cheek. “Bring her, Ramos.” Reynard left the room, Nicole trailing behind.

“It’s a compulsion, Sarah. My father holds one on Brad as well. He’ll do anything he’s told to do. If it’s something abhorrent to his nature, he may fight against it, but ultimately he will do whatever my father bids. He can’t help it.”

Ramos took her hand, and she pulled away from him. But not before she felt his confusion.

“I can’t believe you’re a part of this, that you would have anything to do with something so horrible.”

“We have to go now.” Ramos put his hand at her back, urging her forward, without meeting her eyes.

With the threat to Henry and the others, she had no choice. She’d have to do what they wanted, whatever it was. Fear curdled low in her stomach.

If only she’d listened to Ian. If only she’d opened herself to all she’d been told. If only he were here to save her one more time.

***