Rise of the Lost Prince (10 page)

Gosh. Why did she have to love
the way her name sounded when he said it?

“I don’t know,” she said. “You
might, to protect your home.”

“We may use scare tactics, or
change people’s memories, but we do what we do in order to protect them and ourselves.
What do you think would happen if people knew about us? About the things we can
do? About all those things which really do go bump in the night?”

She blinked up at him, processing
that. He must have taken her silence as a confirmation she didn’t believe him.

“We don’t hurt humans,” he said
through gritted teeth. “No matter what. Okay?”

She knew, on some instinctive
level, he was telling her the truth. She dropped her gaze yet again. “Okay.”

He reached out and tucked his
fingers under her chin. “Look at me.” Softening at the touch, she did what he
requested. “We won’t harm your father.”

She nodded. “Don’t you think
he’ll become suspicious if he doesn’t hear from me?”

“Nope.” He slipped his fingers
free of her and she mourned the loss of contact. “You are going to call him.
Let him know you’re going to take a few days away from work. How about a trip
to a spa?”

She arched a brow. “Spa?”

He shrugged his big shoulders.
“Sounds like a good reason to be away to me.”

“How am I supposed to call him?
No phones, remember?” Byte cleared his throat. Petúr produced her cell phone
from his pocket and handed it over. “You had the twins take my phone out of my
purse, didn’t you?”

“Guilty,” he said.

Unless she wanted to argue until
she was blue in the face, she’d give in.

“Fine,” she said, not quite as
piqued as she sounded.

“After the call,” he said, “and
after you eat something, we’re having a group meeting so Bell can tell the guys
what she told me about the portal.”

“All right.”

“Then we’ll make a quick trip to
your place to get some clothing.”

“Thank you for not forcing me to
wear this the entire time I’m here.” She tugged at the too large shirt she was
wearing.

 
“You’re welcome. But, I never said you’d be
wearing my shirts the entire time.” He hit her with a wicked smile an instant
before he leaned down and whispered in her ear, warm breath gusting across her
cheek and neck. “When I get you alone again, you won’t be wearing anything,
because I intend to continue where we left off in my room earlier.”

Goose bumps humped her flesh
right about the moment she blushed. Quickly she glanced at the phone, pressing
the icon in her contacts to dial her father’s number with her thumb.

****

Bell was standing inside a
closet, scooting aside hanger after hanger of men’s suits. Armani suits.
Sighing, she plucked a navy blue V-neck sweater free and put it on, next
snagging a belt and wrapping it around her waist twice, before rolling the too
long sleeves up. The sweater-dress she created hung to her knees, and since she
didn’t have anything else to wear, this would have to do.

“Hey there, little bit,” she
heard, spinning around to see Vibe in the doorway of what she knew had to be
his closet, smiling at her. His silver eyes did the once over, gaze starting at
her toes, which she wiggled, moving up her bare legs, roaming over her torso
and the erect nipples she sported, then rested on her face. “Looks good on
you.”

“Um, I know I probably should
have asked first, but I needed something to wear, and—”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Uh. Okay. Thanks for the use of
your sweater.” She paused. “And for the use of your bed, too. Sorry to have put
you out.”

He shook his head, one strand of
blond hair brushing his forehead. “I’m just glad you’re up and about.”

“Yeah,” she said, straightening.
“Up and about.”

Why was she repeating what he
said like some kind of mimicking parrot?

“Listen.” He rested his big hand
on the doorframe above his head. “Thanks for what you did out there with
Grapple.”

“I couldn’t let him hurt you
guys, or Petúr.”

He tilted his head, his
expression soft. “It took a lot of guts to take him on the way you did. And, I
just wanted to let you know I won’t forget.”

She smiled, glancing up at him.
“Thanks.” Her gaze dropped to his left thigh. “How’s your leg?”

His brow crinkled. “My leg?”

“Yeah. I saw you take a blade
during the battle.”

“Oh,” he said, moving the leg in
question. “Right as rain.” He glanced toward her shoulder. “How’s your
shoulder?”

She rotated the joint.
“Surprisingly good.”

“Nanos,” Vibe said. “They’re
pretty amazing.”

She nodded. “They are.”

“So, little bit. I hope you’re
feeling up to it, because Petúr has called a meeting.”

She blinked. “A meeting?”

“He said you were going to
explain a few things to us about where we come from, although, since I heard
what you said to Grappling about Petúr being a prince, and Fae, I’m assuming we
all come from the same place.”

“You do,” she said.

He didn’t bat an eyelash at the
admission.

“Well…” Vibe held out his hand
for her, which she tentatively took. “Come on, then. I suppose we shouldn’t
keep everyone waiting.”

****

Wyndi sat next to Petúr on the
sectional couch in what appeared to be a combination game room/workout center.
She was enthralled, listening to Bell tell the story of Petúr once again. How
Grapple came to be. The portal between the human world and the Fae realm being
sealed, and the boys lost within the world of man, never to retain any memory
of their home due to the queen’s magical decree.

“So, we’re Fae,” said Vapor, not
in question, but as if the puzzle pieces of their lives snapped into place,
making sense to him.

“Yes,” Bell said. “Petúr is
Seelie Sidhe
Fae. Most Seelie
Sidhe are of nobility. But there are other branches besides noblemen, some of
whom are craftsmen, and warriors, quick of mind and hand.”

“And you?”

“I am Demi-Fae. I serve and
assist the royal court.”

“Vibe said you have wings and
used some sort of dust.”

She smiled wide, dimples forming.
“I do. I can fly. And the dust is fairy dust.”

“Fairy dust? We don’t have fairy
dust.”

Bell chuckled. “No. Only Demi-Fae
have fairy dust.”

“What do you do with the stuff?”
asked Tera.

“I can use it to glamour people
and some Fae, and I can use it to transform into a butterfly, or a
hummingbird.”

“You can?” Wyndi asked, unable to
hold in the question.

Bell nodded.

“What is Grapple?” asked Byte.

“Grapple is of the line of
Unseelie Sidhe Fae. As I said earlier, he used his magic for healing, until he
became the consort to Arielle and was banished from our land.”

Vapor’s brow creased. “What am
I?”

Bell walked over to him, placed
her nose to his neck and sniffed. “You are an elemental Fae of water. An
Undine.” She straightened. “You harness water, do you not?”

“Yes,” he said, gazing at her
with his mouth slightly a gape. “I do.”

“And, me?” asked Dash. “Do you know
what I am?”

“I saw you teleport. You too are
of the warrior line.”

Dash cocked his head. “As in
Seelie Sidhe
Fae?”

“Yes.” She turned her green-eyed
gaze to Vibe. “You too are Seelie Sidhe Fae, only of the order of Delphi. If
you recall what I said about our fallen King, the order of Delphi are the
keepers of fairy magic. You can do much more than implanting suggestions and
mind control. Much more than being an empath.”

He shook his head. “No. I only—”

“You can,” said Bell. “You just
haven’t learned all you are capable of.” She glanced over to Firefox. “You are
a Fae elemental as well, an Agni.”

Firefox blinked, before he
glanced down at his hands, as if he were studying them.

“And us?”

That came from Tera, who was
standing next to Byte.

“I’m not sure,” said Bell. Tera’s
mouth curled down at the corners, and Byte still looked, well, stoic. “I know
you’re Fae, but…” She glanced at them before strolling over and sniffing the
air. “You’re something else as well.” She turned and looked at Petúr. “Surely
you can detect the difference. They’re like us, yet unique.”

Petúr nodded, however he remained
silent. Wyndi wondered if all this information was as overwhelming to him as it
was to her.

“Would you like to see our home?”
Bell asked.

Every man seemed to stiffen.

Petúr sat forward. “You can show
us?”

“I can.”

Bell held out her small hand and opened
her palm—a little mound of glittering dust sat in the middle. She closed her
eyes, said something under her breath that Wyndi couldn’t discern, then blew.
The dust scattered out and started to form a swirl, mid-air. Twirling,
twirling…. Rotating into a ball which became bigger and bigger, until the ball
danced up toward the ceiling and exploded. Shimmering bits rained down, forming
a translucent wall, and there before everyone’s eyes a forest of green
appeared, like a silent movie gleaming on a screen.

Petúr asked, “How are you doing
this?” His velvet voice sounding astonished.

“Memories.”

He reached out. “These are your
memories?”

“Yes. I’m showing you my memories
of our home.”

Water droplets sparkled within a
million facets upon the oversized leaves of trees, the picture moving as in
flight, scaling up and over a rock, covered in moss. Brilliant light cascaded
on an outcropping of ferns below. Hundreds of colorful butterflies burst into
sight and seemed to float up, up on air, gliding into a single shaft of
sunlight within a tight formation, before the image flickered and disappeared.

Chapter Nine

Petúr took hold of Wyndi’s hand,
leading her to the front doors of the castle, listening to her high heel shoes
clatter-tap out a cadence on the floor. With her pant suit ruined, she still
had one of his ten dollar T-shirts on, with her high fashion on her feet. Crazy
attire or not, he had to admit she looked as sexy as hell.

When they stepped outside, he
glanced down at her. “Last night, you asked me what I could do.”

She blinked up at him, those long
lashes of hers fluttering. “I remember.”

He leaned down and picked her up
by the waist. She sucked in a breath. “Put your arms around my neck and hold
on.” She did without protest and he reveled in the feel of her incredible
breasts pressed into him. “Don’t scream.”

“Excuse me?”

He straightened and ran with her,
crossing over the hologram threshold, then leapt, taking flight.

“Oh-my-God-oh-my-God,” she
spluttered, nails sinking into the nape of his neck, kicking.

“Put your legs around my waist
and stop the kicking.”

Immediately, she wrapped her legs
around him, clinging like a burr while her heart raced, beating against his.

“Breathe,” he said. “And relax.
I’ll never let you go.” They went higher, breaking into a low-line cloud bank.
Wisps of grey-white enveloped them. Petúr felt a slight tremble roll through
Wyndi’s compact body. He stopped flying, floating in place, and kicked out his
legs, crossing them at the ankles in front of him, adjusting her so her
fabulous ass was seated on his lap. “Open your eyes, Wyndi.” She shook her
head. “Please. I promise you’re safe.”

Slowly, her right eye opened,
then her left. She glanced over his shoulder. “We’re sitting on a cloud,” she
said, voice quaking. “We’re really sitting on a freaking cloud!”

He chuckled. “More like hovering.
A body can’t really sit on clouds.”

“You can fly.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I can.”

“You don’t have wings though.”

“No wings.”

Carefully, one arm moved from his
neck.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he
assured her.

She reached, poking her hand
through one of the puffy cloud tips. “This is like my dreams.” She sounded
wistful.

Petúr looked into the depths of
her eyes. “Dreams?”

She nodded. “I’ve dreamed of
you.”

The admission hit him in the gut.
“You have?”

Resting her head against his
chest she admitted, “Ever since I was a child, I’ve dreamed of you. In my
dreams, you fly me through the heavens. In my dreams, I feel the moisture in
the clouds, and the wind on my skin.” She let out a contented breath. “The
night we met, and I looked up into your eyes, I knew.”