Hope Everlastin' Book 4 (36 page)

"It helps."

"Did he hurt
you?"

Taryn looked Beth in the
eye. "Not really. I'm more pissed than anything that he got the
jump on me. Do you know who he was?"

While Beth explained what
she knew, Taryn stared at Winston and gave a single nod when Beth
finished.

"Makes you wonder what
makes a man like that tick, huh? They're coming out of the woodwork
these days."

Beth agreed. "Have you ever
thought of going into serious journalism?"

A wry grin appeared on
Taryn's mouth, and she shrugged. "I think about a lot of
things."

"Have you ever considered
settling down and having a family?"

Taryn's astonishment
swiftly vanished. "I didn't figure you for someone who believes a
woman's greatest expectations should revolve around a man and
kids."

"You make it sound like a
nasty proposition." Beth glanced at Jondee. "Of course, it isn't
the answer for every woman. There was a time when all I wanted was
to finish college and decide what I wanted as a career."

"What happened?"

With a grin, Beth looked at
Taryn. "Scotland. Lachlan."

Somberly, Taryn nodded. "I
guess I would opt for the domestic life if I found someone like
him. You're lucky, you know. Too bad he doesn't have an identical
twin."

Several moments passed
while they watched the Circle Of Magic.

Taryn asked in low, husky
voice, "Do you think there's a chance they can pull this
off?"

A pang of realization took
Beth by surprise but instead of addressing the issue of Taryn being
in love with Lachlan, she said, "One of the male fairies assured me
it's almost over."

"It's funny, but none of
this is real. I mean, I know I'm seeing it, I'm not dreaming, but
it's...not real."

"Life at Baird House," Beth
said wistfully.

"The police are gonna raise
hell about the stiff."

Beth grimaced. "I know, but
I'm more worried about the press—sorry."

"Forget it. You know, we
need to comprise a believable story that will satisfy the police
and the press. I don't think you and Lachlan should be involved.
Let Roan or Winston say they pushed the bastard out the
window."

"You're willing to omit
part of the truth?"

"Yeah. Why are you so
surprised? We can't say anyone was stabbed, because
Deliah-The-Wonder made all the boo-boos go away. Can't even claim
the sick prick had a weapon at all. Whatever is decided, we all
have to stick to it."

"I agree."

Beth's deep voice lifted
Taryn's eyebrows. "You thought I'd rush to my laptop and spill the
whole story, huh?" She shook her head disparagingly. "No, thank
you. Some truths are better left unsaid."

"Thanks, Taryn."

"For what?"

"Being a compassionate
woman first, a reporter and paparazzi second."

Taryn groaned. "Gads, I'm
gonna puke. Beth, I'm going along with this because no one would
believe it if I wrote up the entire story. Sure, there's acceptable
weird, but this soars far out of that range. I'm just protecting my
ass, so don't get misty-eyed thinking I have a magnanimous bone in
my body."

"You're really opposed to
anyone knowing you have a heart, aren't you?"

"Me? No one really cares if
I do or I don't." She nodded in the direction of Roan and Laura.
"Go bug them. I'd like to return to the comfort of a
stupor."

Beth smiled. "Roan's
worried about you."

"Yeah, well, tell him to
keep his big brother sentiments to himself."

"I'll just say you're all
right."

"Whatever."

Beth was reluctant to leave
Taryn alone but nonetheless returned to the group. Jondee rose to
his feet and faced her, his eyes sparkling with delight. Ciarda lay
in the crook of his arm, blinking at the world and cooing
softly.

"I have pledged maself to
young Ciarda," he said proudly, his head held high and his
shoulders squared. "When she comes o' age, I will come to claim
her."

Beth's mind went blank, her
expression deadpan, while a startled Roan and Laura exchanged a
harried glance. Perplexed, Jondee looked at them then seriously
regarded Beth. "I have long had dreams o' pledgin’ to a mortal girl
child."

"Really?" Beth tried to
smile and failed. "But, Jondee, mortals don't pledge to
children."

Jondee's perplexity
deepened. "She has accepted me."

"She can't even talk
yet."

"Aye, she canna speak, but
her mind acknowledges me. Do ye deny me the right to win her when
she comes o' age?"

Beth cast Roan a look of
helplessness.

"Now, Jondee," said Roan
kindly, "mortal females are fickle. Wha' say we wait till she's
grown?"

Jondee searched Beth's wary
expression. "I be untried."

When Beth frowned, he
explained, "Chaste, mistress."

He went on, "In ma dreams,
MoNae tells me—although it has been forbidden to claim a mortal as
a lifemate—mine be, in truth, one o' yer world."

Beth laughed a bit
unsteadily. "Dreams aren't usually premonitions."

"To a mortal, no?" he asked
with genuine surprise.

"Well...no. I mean, it
could be true, but not necessarily that my daughter is the
one."

"Aye, it be her. Patient
and chaste I will remain for Ciarda."

"Beth."

Roan's curt tone stabbed
her with alarm, and her gaze followed to where he was pointing. The
rings that had been around the Circle Of Magic were gone. Stillness
and absolute quite pervaded the enclosure. Apprehension crept up
Beth's spine until the channelers began to separate and she spied
Lachlan sitting up, his hands cupping his head. Running to his
side, she dropped to her knees and threw her arms around
him.

"Ma head," he groaned.
"Fegs, Beth, tell me I didna raid the bloody scotch
again."

Laughing, Beth replied,
"You fell out the window with the Phantom. The dirk was in your
chest when you hit the ground."

"Tha' explains ma heart
burn."

"Lachlan, you almost
died."

"How did I—" His head shot
up and his eyes widened at the sight of the other onlookers. He
couldn't absorb anything more at the moment than the fact they had
wings. "Beth, wha's goin’ on?"

"Deliah's people have
returned, Lachlan, and the queen, Reith's wife, called the Circle
Of Magic to heal you."

"Reith's wife?"

"He's Deliah's
brother."

A longer moan rattled in
his throat. "Ma head's reelin’. Tell me one thing,
love."

"What?"

Deadpan, he stared into her
eyes. "Am I going to sprout wings now?"

"God, I love you!" she
laughed and, framing his face with her hands, kissed
him.

But of course it wasn't the
time to rejoice.

Winston's grave statement
reminded them there were serious matters to attend to, and as soon
as possible.

"I have to go into town for
the police." All eyes, human and fairy alike, trained on him.
"Beth, you and the twins can't be here when they
arrive."

C
hapter 13

Beth tried not to think of
what was going on in the main house, or of how extraordinary was
her temporary refuge. The babies had been nursed and their diapers
changed, and were now with their self-appointed guardians in
another part of the dwelling.

She absently sipped her
herbal tea. Its flavor was strong yet soothing, bitter yet sweet.
When she placed the cup down, her hostess immediately topped it off
with hotter brew, and she murmured, "Thank you."

She'd had her fill of the
round herbal cakes and sweetened root mash. There was so much for
her mind to absorb. New sights and smells and flavors and
impressions.

Lifting the cup, she took a
moment to study the intricate floral design hand painted on its
surface. Some of the flowers she recognized, others, she didn't,
but they were all so perfectly detailed, she almost believed she
could smell their fragrance.

She was in the main dining
room, seated at one of the elongated oak tables, atop one of
countless high-back chairs. All the furniture she'd seen thus far
had engravings depicting nature scenes, and the walls were painted
with murals of exquisite gardens. Torches were used to light the
maze-work of the dwellings, yet none of the rooms were smoky, nor
the air stuffy.

It was a world unto itself,
and no less miraculous or beautiful than that of Beth's.

"You surprise me,
Beth."

She looked up into Blue's
smiling countenance, a bit puzzled by her remark.

This morning, a
full-length, backless gown of blue and white enhanced the queen's
graceful figure. The sides of her hair were braided and woven with
ribbons, the rest left to hang in strands of satin ebony. Beth had
yet to meet a fairy who didn't possess beauty of face and figure,
who wasn't as graceful as a butterfly.

She felt awkward among
them. Gangly and plain. For the second day since entering Faerie,
Beth had chosen to wear a tunic. Although the tweedlike fabric was
soft, its texture was unfamiliar and had an earthy
scent.

"Plant fibers," Blue said,
and added when Beth gave a start, "Our fabric is woven from plant
fibers."

"You can read my
mind?"

Blue laughed a musical
sound. "I could, but haven't." She pointed to Beth's chest, her
eyes lit with amusement. Beth glanced down to see she had a section
of her tunic between a thumb and forefinger.

"You were rubbing it, and
had a most thoughtful look in your eyes."

Placing the cup back on the
table and folding her arms atop the oak surface, Beth grinned
sheepishly. "I'm sorry. My mind keeps drifting."

"I wonder why," said Blue
impishly. "I must say, I was reluctant to allow you passage. Even
the older fairies can't remember when last a mortal was brought
into our nest. I'm glad Deliah persuaded me to reconsider. I've
enjoyed watching your reactions to our ways. You've been very
gracious—surprisingly so, considering I know you long to return to
your Lachlan."

"Without you, I wouldn't
have him, would I?"

Blue stirred the remains of
her tea with a whittled implement shaped like a miniature oar. "I'm
afraid I allowed my resentment for The Sutherland to prejudice me
against all mortals." She solemnly met Beth's gaze and smiled
apologetically. "Foolish, I know, but I'm afraid I haven't had the
time to polish my attitude." She became mockingly serious and
deepened her voice. "There is a proper mindset for royalty, after
all."

Beth laughed. "May I say
something?"

"Of course."

After a short hesitation,
Beth ventured, "Why do I have the distinct impression you're not
happy being a queen?"

Blue's eyebrows quirked
upward then settled in place. "I don't believe I'm the best
qualified, especially in light of the fact we have only recently
regained Faerie's populace and returned to our land."

Beth frowned thoughtfully.
"What happened to the kingdom? During the gathering, I remember
Winston saying something about a warlock."

Strain made taut the lovely
features across from her. Blue sighed in contemplation and said,
"The Sutherland. I don't mean to sound so cryptic, Beth, but it's
something I'm not comfortable talking about, right now."

"How did you manage to put
this place together so quickly?"

A hint of a grin appeared
on Blue's mouth. "Fairies are extremely resilient. We've been back
less than a month, and already they have rebuilt the kingdom of
old. Whatever the tragedy, they persevere. Whatever task is
demanded of them, they accept without question. Only one among them
ever rebelled, ever brought grief and sorrow into the
fold."

"Reith?"

Her mouth twisted into a
parody of a grin. "Another subject I choose to avoid, although I do
understand your curiosity." She sighed almost woefully. "But some
things are better left the way they are."

Beth nodded then frowned.
"Even if it pains you?"

"Then, too. Please, Beth,
don't push me where he's concerned."

"All right. But there is
something else I want to ask you."

Wariness clouded the
queen's eyes.

"Why do you believe you're
not qualified to rule this kingdom?" Beth asked passionately. "I
may be out of line, here, but your self-esteem sucks."

Faerie's queen was taken
aback. "You are blunt."

Beth's head reeled. It
wasn't her intention to sully her welcome, but it disturbed her to
know Blue dwelled in an emotional bog of sorrow. "Forgive me," she
murmured, staring down at her cup. "Yes, I have a tendency to speak
before I think." Her gaze lifted timorously. "Your admiration for
your people is undeniable, but you didn't include yourself when you
spoke of their character."