Tressa's Treasures (The King's Jewel Book 1) (16 page)

"Someone tampered with Eileen's brakes while she was in the restaurant. But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"I read it in the paper like everyone else, so yeah, I knew. What exactly are you implying?"

"Witnesses at the restaurant said you were upset when you found out Eileen had left the restaurant. They said you tried to stop her." He stepped closer to Alexander, eyes narrowed and glaring. "Why would you do that unless you knew something was wrong with her car? You were somehow involved in this."

My stomach tightened when I remembered Alexander's desperation to stop Eileen. Surely his premonitions were a form of
Darna Shealladh
, but most people didn't believe in Second Sight so he couldn't tell Tom the real reason for his panic that night.

"Don't be ridiculous. She forgot her cell phone and I was trying to get it to her is all," Alexander told the officer.

"Your wife was killed in a car accident, wasn't she?" Tom threw the words at him like a punch.

Alexander, shocked, stepped back as if the words had physically hit him.

"Yeah. So what?"

"Isn't it true that she died because someone tampered with her brakes?" And there it was: Tom's knockout blow.

"No, you son of a bitch, that's not true."

If Tom had hoped to provoke Alexander into a physical reaction, he had failed. The more enraged Alexander grew the more still he became, like an animal preparing to attack. I took his hand to calm him. He took a deep breath.

"She dropped a bottle of water while she was driving and it got lodged under the brake pedal. Nothing was wrong with the car. It was a senseless accident."

"There was an investigation."

"Isn't that routine with you law enforcement types?" Alexander shook his head. "Listen, if you're looking for a suspect, you should look at your boy Fred. If you have nothing more constructive to ask, we're leaving." We started toward the car, not bothering to wait for Tom’s acknowledgment.

"Don't leave town without my okay, Mannus," he called after us.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I dreamt I was in the ballroom at Uncle Lomán's castle in Faery. The crystal chandeliers shimmered like jewelry. An orchestra played a heavenly waltz as smiling couples spun round the dance floor.

At first, I danced with my father. His eyes shone as he told me how proud he and my mother were of me. Seeing him quenched a thirst I hadn't known I had. I drank in the details of his face—the lines at the corners of his eyes, the way his cheeks dimpled when he smiled—knowing I would not see it again in this life.

Then another lost face, my grandfather, swept me across the dance floor, looking as he had the last time I saw him: tall, straight-backed and proud with his silver hair and glittering purple eyes.

"You are the Treasure, my darling girl," he said, looking at me adoringly.

"You mean
a
treasure, Móraí, not
the
Treasure." I corrected him more assertively than I ever had in life. I no longer wanted the expectations of that title hanging over me. Had I ever wanted it?

He smiled at me indulgently.

"No, my darling girl, I spoke correctly. You are the Treasure. Your Mamó says it is so."

The old king faded, replaced by the current king. My Uncle Lomán whirled me around faster than the music called for. Faster than comfortable.

"You are the Treasure," he said.

Next, my brother Gilleagán spun me so fast that my head began to spin as well.

"You know what they do to the Treasure, don't you?" He hammered the words at me in a nasty stinging tone, just as he had in our youth. "Deaglan Mór will hunt you down and burn you alive, like his grandfathers burned the King's Treasures before you."

He laughed maniacally, his face morphing until it was Deaglan Mór himself whirling me around, still laughing. His eyes were a blazing, crackling fire-red.

Suddenly, everything and everyone around me burst into an inferno of flames.

I woke with a start. My sheets were damp, and I glistened with sweat. Darkness surrounded me. Only the moonlight coming through the window disrupted the pitch black of my room.

It took a couple of panicked breaths before I realized that the electricity was out. The digital clock on my bedside table, which usually illuminated the room, was dark.

My breathing gradually returned to normal, but the hot, stuffy room kept me sweating. I slid out of bed and padded carefully down the hall to the bathroom.

Feeling my way around the windowless room, I turned on the cold tap and splashed the refreshing water onto my face. I took a few deep breaths to rein in my emotions, splashing my face once more before toweling dry.

Our electricity often failed at Pine Ridge. I kept a flashlight in the drawer of my nightstand for these occasions. However, on that night, my flashlight refused to turn on—apparently the batteries were dead. I didn't keep candles, matches, or lighters of any kind in the house, so the room remained dark.

I opened the window and found that the air outside was as hot and humid as inside: more like a midsummer's evening instead of mid-spring.

The gibbous moon and a galaxy of stars gave a silvery glow and a sense of vastness to the night sky. My room began to feel even darker and more claustrophobic when compared to the view from my window.

The lake in the distance called to me with its open air and clear, cold water. It promised to relax and refresh me.

I went as I was, holding tightly to the banister as I made my way down the steep old staircase. When I reached the outdoors and I could see properly, I ran barefoot with my nightgown flowing behind me.

I pulled the nightgown over my head, tossed it onto the glider, and ran naked into the water. With long, forceful strokes, I swam toward the middle of the lake.

My hot room had summoned the nightmare of fire and Deaglan Mór, the Unseelie prince. I let the soothing sensation of water flowing over my body and cooling my skin dispel it.

About a hundred yards into the lake, I flipped onto my back and relaxed into a float. I lazily picked out constellations from the starlit sky.

Once the water had done its work, I began to grow cold. I started back to shore at a slower pace, in no hurry to return to the darkness of the farmhouse. Halfway back, I saw him. Alexander stood at the edge of the lake. He wore jeans and nothing else; even his feet were bare. His tousled hair and unkempt look made it clear that he had recently abandoned his bed as well.

He stood looking at me with his hands on his hips, the bracelet I made for him still wrapped around his wrist. We stared at each other across the water for a heartbeat or two.

I watched, unable to turn away, as he peeled off his jeans and joined me in the water.

My nightmare had been a blatant reminder of the danger I brought with me into this relationship. Yet I was about to be tested, and I knew I would fall short of the challenge.

There was no avoiding this. I swam closer to where he stood, now up to his waist in the water.

"How did you know I was here?"

"I woke up and just knew," he said.

I swam around him, keeping far enough away so he couldn't see me clearly with his human eyesight.

"You're a
Fáidh
?" I said, part question, part statement. He looked quizzical. "You have Second Sight. Visions of the future," I explained.

"No. I'm just a normal guy who gets a gut feeling once in a while." He stepped toward me, closing the distance between us, but I splashed away from him. "The better question is: who are
you
?"

"Wha—What do you mean?" I halfheartedly tried to keep up my ruse.

He held up the wrist that wore the bracelet.

"I've been working on this hand for years. You put a bracelet on it, and in less than twenty-four hours, it's completely healed." He shook his head. "What are you?"

His hand had healed. He could see me. Oh no, no, no. I had done something terribly wrong with the talisman; it had healed him too quickly. I splashed backward again, this time in a real panic.

"Tressa, please don't be afraid of me." He started toward me again.

"I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid
for
you."

His eyes, those deep, penetrating eyes, told me there could be no more pretending. He had to know everything. Afterwards, it would be safer for him if I left. Silent tears wet my cheeks when I thought of parting from him.

"I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you," I said, a vision of Deaglan Mór appearing in my mind. My pain-laden voice echoed my thoughts. "Evil hunts for me. I must leave so that it doesn't come after you."

He lunged, grasping my wrist and pulling me to him.

"You can't leave. I won't have it."

Heat radiated out from my wrist where he held me until my entire body felt flushed. I stretched my foot to test for the bottom and found the water was shallow there; I stood and the water barely came to my breasts. My senses tingled, intensely aware of my nakedness and the closeness of his body.

He reached out and gently ran his fingers through my hair pushing it back to unmask my face. He gasped and I ducked my head, feebly attempting to cover myself. He wouldn't allow me to hide. He lifted my chin, met my eyes, and smiled.

"Don't hide. You're safe with me." His eyes explored my face, fingers tracing a line from my forehead, circling around my eyes, and then following the wet tracks down my cheek.

He stroked the points of my ears before moving his hand to caress the length of my neck as he took a deep, shaking breath. When he exhaled, the outflow of air was so ragged it seemed painful.

"My god." He took another faltering breath. "You're beautiful."

"You will never again see me or anyone like me as you did before now." My tears returned. "I've made you a target. You must leave Pine Ridge as quickly as you can. Tell no one what you can see."

"Damn it, woman," he hissed, his anger mixed with lust. "I'm telling you: neither of us is going anywhere."

He was right. Perhaps it was without logic, for some would say I barely knew him, but I knew I loved him. And I trusted him—with my life, and with his. The time for doubt had passed.

He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me tightly against him as if overwhelmed by need. He groaned as my naked body met his. The touch of his flesh destroyed my defenses. I pressed my body along his length and lifted my face to his.

A curse escaped his lips just before he brought them down on mine. His kiss was hard, almost brutal, as though he were punishing me... or perhaps himself. Then a frenzied longing swept away the anger.

The water lapped around us as we tore at each other, frantic to explore each other's bodies. Our need for release was such that neither of us had the patience for long caresses. I reached up, locked my fingers behind his neck, and wrapped my legs around him. He lifted my bottom and let me down as he entered me. Almost instantly, unable to hold back even if we had wanted to, we both exploded.

We stayed locked together as he kissed me thoroughly. Then we started again, this time going slower, taking the time to enjoy the details of each other’s bodies, prolonging the buildup until at last, we came to another explosive conclusion.

Later, in the small hours of the morning, we lay together in my bed. Alexander leaned against the headboard comparing his hands, which he held out before him.

He closed his right hand into a fist and then opened it again, stretching his fingers wide. He touched each finger to his thumb in turn, testing their dexterity. It looked as fragile as it had before the bracelet: the scar still wrapped around the center of his palm and ran up his forearm, and the muscles around the scar still appeared atrophied. However, I noted with pride, his arm and hand were strong, functioning as well as they had before the injury.

He rolled to his side, supporting his head in his hand and staring at me as he had been doing all night. He ran his fingers down a lock of my hair, watching the curls flatten as he stretched it out and bounce back when he released it.

"It's amazing. Your hair looks like fine-spun copper, but it's as soft as silk." He leaned forward and kissed me. "You never told me what you are," he scolded.

"As if I could have," I said with mock defensiveness. "It isn't as though you've given me the time."

"Hmmm," he wore a satisfied smile. "Yes, I guess that's true... Tell me now."

He continued to play with my hair as I tried to find the right words to explain. His expression grew concerned when I had taken too long.

"You're not afraid, are you? I promise it will be okay."

"No, it's not that. I've never tried to explain to anyone who I am, so I'm not sure where to begin. I can tell you that I am a Sidhe of the
Tuatha Dé Danann
, but I don't know if that would mean anything to you."

"No, I'm afraid it doesn't." He rolled onto his back, rearranging me until I was curled on my side with my head resting on his shoulder. Perhaps he suspected it would be easier for me to continue if we weren’t looking at each other. Whether or not he’d planned it, avoiding eye contact did indeed make it easier.