Some Enchanted Dream: A Time Travel Adventure (Seasons of Enchantment Book 2) (34 page)

"They know we're in Montmartre, but not exactly where," Dan finished. "Great, all we need now is an invisibility cloak to go get food and supplies, and we're good."

His tone was sarcastic, suggesting the very opposite.

"We will stay here for now. The sigils will protect us. The dark ones dislike sunlight. Night is their time. Tomorrow, we'll see about acquiring weapons," Mick commanded. He waved his hand at them, signalling the meeting was over and for Dan and Adrian to leave.

"Well, that was a helluva war council, hey, Dillon?" Dan's jest as they traversed the hallway to their own flat brought a heavy sigh to Adrian's lips.

"They know their own kind better than we do." Adrian turned the doorknob and entered the apartment. "I would like a strong draught of brandy, care to join me?" He removed his suit coat and loosened the shirt about his neck. Glancing about the room, his eyes moved to his bedroom door. Tara must be asleep. That was a relief. She had quite a fright today.

"So, where is Gisele?" Dan asked in a panicked voice. "I told her to stay here."

"We were over there for three hours. She may have gone home."

"I told her not to go home alone. That jerk from the club might be waiting for her there."

"Come, man, it's one floor below us. What could happen?" Adrian opened the lower cabinet of the china hutch and retrieved the brandy and two crystal goblets. Ah, Mick had provided for their every need, didn't he now. He poured a measure into both goblets and carried them to the sofa where Dan had taken a seat.

Dan took his offering with a grateful nod. "She could be kidnapped by a malicious old pervert. She was fired from her job at the dance hall and that skanky fellow is responsible. He tried to get her to become his mistress and she refused, so that's his retaliation upon the poor woman. He already sent his man around to offer her his protection this morning. She refused, but he seems too damned determined for my liking to let it go at that. I told her she could bunk with me for a while."

That explained her appearance earlier. She looked desperate and frightened. Adrian didn't say anything further about Dan's arrangement with the woman. If Dan had fallen for her, then it would do little good to talk him out of his need to protect her.

"So, do you think we can win this fight?"

Adrian cocked his head and considered his answer. "I'd feel better if I knew how many we were up against. That might determine the odds of success."

"I think we're fucked." Dan lifted his glass and drained it. He smacked his lips with satisfaction as the brandy went down his gullet in a slow burn. "But, what are you gonna do, hey? I'm partial to the human race staying the way it is, not going backward to primitive times."

Adrian rose, and set his glass on the small stand next to his overstuffed chair. He gave Dan a salute, as he would to one of his men back in Cork, and then headed to the bedroom.

Once there, he noted the emptiness of the small room. A note was on the bed, on the pillow where his wife's head should be. He opened it in a panic. 

"Dan!" Adrian called out, and the big man came thundering in. "Read this."

"Oh, shit!" Dan groaned as he read aloud. "
While you big strong men were busy planning your war, Gisele and I slipped out to the cabaret to enjoy a little girl time. Have fun storming the castle, boys!    

Lady Dillon, Queen of the Bright and Shining Starling Mound
."

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Tara had a plan. Inspiration from the Green Fairy,
Le Fee Verte
as she was known in French. Bellows had kept asking her if she were the magical woman associated with Absinthe, so she decided to go with that. A little charm, a little flirting, and a little fairy dust were potent weapons when dealing with human males. 

She still wore her pale green tulle gown with flowing sleeves, one that the dressmaker insisted would enhance her complexion. Gisele had also put on one of Tara's new gowns. They didn't have to go far to find Gisele's place of employment. It was just a few blocks from their apartment. 
Le Coq Bleu
was bustling tonight. The street was backed up with carriages as wealthy patrons had their drivers waiting to whisk them away at a moment's notice.

Tara smiled at the sounds of gaiety. It reminded her of bars in the future; loud lively music, crammed with people, and lots of alcohol and cigar smoke filling the room. The lively music was from a piano, not a jukebox. The people were dressed in fine clothing of the Victorian age, lovely gowns on the few women patrons, and suit coats with dress trousers on the men. It was like a night at the opera, but with less dignity. It was, after all, sort of a brothel, dancing or not. She knew from Dan's tales that there were various entertainments in the back rooms, card games, sex games, and places to indulge in smoking a hookah for a price.

They were admitted to the main room, but not without a look of disdain from the 'bouncer' at the door. Some bouncer, he had on a suit and tails, complete with gloves, and a top hat. He tried to stop Tara with a question, "Who is escorting you this evening, Madame?"

She sashayed up to him and peered up into his curious brown eyes. With a wave of her hand Tara said sweetly, "we don't need an escort."  He nodded in agreement and let them pass.

They moved through the crowds of mostly men with some difficulty.  A man stopped Tara's progress by stepping in front of her.

"Are you the Green Fairy?" His eyes were hopeful, and a tad too bloodshot.

"Is your name Etienne Marceau?" she replied.

"No, my lady. I am Eugene Lemay."

"Then I am not your green fairy. Excuse us." She moved past him as he stood with his mouth agape. Other men stared after her as if she were a famous movie star crashing a local pub in her own time.

If Adrian knew I were here he'd be furious. But the boys won't let me play, so . . .

Gisele held on to her arm. The poor woman seemed frightened to be out of her depth, a visitor to the club instead of a dancer looking down at the patrons from on the stage.

Men parted before Tara, giving her a feeling of power. She had applied a teensy bit of glamoury back home as she was dressing, a little extra zing to enhance her attractiveness in the hope her ploy would work. She was new to this so she wasn't certain if she succeeded in making herself more appealing to human men--until now--when they were all forming a line on either side of her as she traversed the crowded room. 

"Mademoiselle Tisante, stop." The voice piercing Tara's grand promenade moment was raspy and ancient. She had a feeling it was Gisele's troublesome pervert. "Stop I say. Do not ignore me, or you'll rue the day you met me, young woman!"

Gisele's hand tightened on Tara's arm from behind her. "It's him. Oh, what am I to do?"

"Ignore him," Tara instructed in a low whisper. "If he bothers you, I'll take care of him."

"But Lady Tara, you are a mere woman. We shouldn't have come here alone, I knew it would be a mistake. Oh--Oooh, no--let go of me!" Gisele's speech went from a low whisper to a high pitched shriek.

Tara turned. Sure enough, a man who looked to be at least ninety years old if not one hundred was cruelly clutching Gisele's arm as if she were a runaway slave and he her owner. "Let go of her, now."

The ancient fellow looked at Tara with open hostility. "And who are you to order me about? Just another overpriced tart expecting men to fall at her feet."

Okay, that was it. The man wasn't letting Gisele go, and his cronies, two younger men of perhaps forty, flanked him. The fellow thought he could just drag her friend to his lair as if she belonged to him. His wrinkled fingers were tight on Gisele's arm, tight enough to leave a bruise.

Tara's fury rose. "Release her or deal with me."

The two men behind him were backing away with fear in their eyes. Still, the old man kept a tight hold on Gisele's arm. He glared at Tara. "I do not take orders from women like you."

"There are no
women
like me in Paris!" Tara felt the electricity zinging over her skin and stinging her teeth. Thunder rumbled above. The chandeliers above their heads quivered as their glass pendants tinkled ominously in warning. At her silent wish, the lights flickered and dimmed.

They came on again, but the effect left the place silent. Even the piano player had ceased to make music. Tara looked down at her tingling hand, noting blue sparks of energy curling around her fingertips and tickling her palms.

"Let the woman go," a man spoke up from the crowd.

And then another agreed, and another. The men were starting to close in on Gisele's bully with menacing looks.

With a huff of indignation, the old man let Gisele go. He pushed her at Tara. Lifting a boney hand, he looked directly at Tara, "This isn't over."

"It is," Tara snapped.  She extended her arms from her sides and let herself
glow
.

The crowd's reaction was a collective
Oooohhh!

The old fellow looked as if he'd have a stroke, right there and drop at Tara's feet.

"This woman is under my protection. Touch her, and you will deal with me."

"It's her--the Green Lady--look, it's the Green Fairy! The patron saint of Absinthe," The men around her whispered in tones of reverence.

Gisele was staring at Tara with a very different look, one of shock and fear.

"Yes, I am Lady Artemisia Absinthium." Tara was careful to not reveal her real name. After all, when impersonating the Green Lady she must give the woman due credit in these parts. Artemisia was also a very naughty fairy who hadn't kept her true self secret among humans but rather flaunted her powers to lure men in.

The men crowded around Tara with adoration. They were getting too close. She was starting to panic.

And she didn't like the way Gisele was looking at her.

Had she become blue, as Mick did when he was upset?

Ok, time to wave them back, she thought. Closing her eyes to concentrate, Tara kept her arms extended at her sides and focused on getting out of this corner she'd painted herself into. With all of her being, she focused her energy on suggestive thought magic as Mick had taught her briefly. "The Green Fairy has vanished. You cannot see her. Go back about your business." With a swoosh of her arms upright and then out in a circle, she pushed her will outward to encompass the crowd.

Faces became confused, startled and almost despondent as they glanced about where their vision of the famous Green Fairy had been.

Tara was still standing there but she appeared to be a normal human again.

Gisele was still looking at her a little oddly. Tara stepped close to her, and took her hand.

"Are you really the Green Fairy?" The woman's warbly voice betrayed her fear.

"No, Gisele. I am just plain Tara, your friend."

The lovely woman looked relieved, but still a little wary. "But are you a fairy?"

"I am. But that must remain between us."

Gisele's head bobbed, as one does when agreeing with something too incredible to comprehend. She squeezed Tara's hand. "I am so fortunate you are my friend."

The English speaking men were still talking in murmured whispers about the visitation from the Green Lady. Those who spoke French were being told what Tara said before her magical aura vanished. Suddenly, glasses of Absinthe were being passed around as they toasted their good fortune in actually seeing the patroness of their enchanted dreams.

Tara squeezed through the crowd inch by inch and stalked up to the table holding the drinks. Glasses of brandy, wine, and the ever popular Absinthe were in neat rows for the patrons to help themselves to the bounty. The Absinthe row was nearly empty, with just a few glasses left as the exuberant men toasted their muse.

Gisele hovered by her side, appearing a frightened pup following its owner through a crowd. She didn't touch Tara again, but stuck so close Tara could feel her heat and smell her perfume beneath the warm chandeliers. It was hot in here. An empty bottle of Absinthe moved past at eye level on a silver tray as the waiter took the remnant away. Tara grabbed it and lifted it from the tray as he passed. It wasn't
Lune Nuit
, it was
Pernod  fils
.

"Mademoiselle, would you like me to bring you a glass from a freshly opened bottle?" The waiter had turned, noting the difference in weight of his serving tray. "I will be right back."

"We'll be in the garden." Gisele seemed to have recovered her tongue. "Could you bring my friend an unopened bottle of Absinthe and a glass of champagne for me, Luc?"

"Is this the only brand your club serves?" Tara wanted to be certain she brought Riley back a full sample from the local cabaret to test with the others he had, and if there were several brands, she'd need a sample of each brand for him to test.

Luc smiled at her and nodded. "
Oui, ma cher, Pernod fils
is the finest label and we serve only the best here. Our patrons expect it. Gisele, you should come to the back with me to talk to Mr. Le Beau. He might give you your position back. I think he regrets letting you go. A little coaxing on your part would bend his will." He winked at Gisele, coyly implying she might seduce the man to recover her job.

Tara was about to open her mouth to tell the waiter where to go with that idea when Gisele spoke up.

"No. I am getting married," Gisele informed the waiter. "I have met a wonderful man."

He appeared shocked by her announcement. Gisele snatched up a glass of brandy and lifted it to her lips, still regarding Luc with a saucy, satisfied look.

"Who would," Luc faltered, quickly recovering his faux pas without finishing that dreaded sentence;
who would marry you
?  His young cheeks reddened and he looked away. He rolled his lips, and shifted the silver tray he was holding up in one hand to his other hand. "Who is the lucky man? Do I know him?"

Tara waited with baited breath. She had a feeling she might know the answer.