Witch's Bounty (25 page)

“Excuses, excuses,” an airy voice trilled. A coruscation flashed in the air and a tall, emaciated woman, with silver hair to the floor, stepped from its glow. “Lovely. Perfect.” She clapped her hands together. “I’d hoped to find the two of you—alone.”

Duncan scrambled to his feet and bowed. “Your Highness. Welcome to my home. May I offer you any refreshments?”

Because Colleen wasn’t certain of the correct protocol, and because she didn’t owe any allegiance to the Faerie queen, she remained seated. Wary and watchful, but seated.

“Thank you.” Titania swept the room with her pale blue gaze. “Whatever you’re having will be fine.”

“It’s Armagnac. I have mead if you’d prefer.” Duncan straightened and stood, looking at his queen.

“I would prefer it. You know me too well, dear boy.”

“Back in a moment.” He trotted from the room.

Colleen winced. There was something patronizing about Titania’s tone that grated on her nerves. As if the monarch had read her thoughts, she turned to face her. “You don’t like me.”

Aw shit, here it comes.
Colleen got to her feet, so they’d be more equally matched. “Why should I?” she countered. “Duncan came to you and said he wanted to marry me. You not only withheld your blessing, you vanished so he couldn’t discuss it any further.”

Titania winced. “Ach, he told you that, did he?”

“Why wouldn’t he? Lovers shouldn’t hold secrets, at least not ones of that nature. Plus,” Colleen forged on, “you put Duncan in a really difficult position. He had to choose between his kinsmen and me.” She put her hands on her hips. “That wasn’t fair.”

Duncan walked back into the room. He handed a glass of mead to Titania and strode to Colleen’s side. “Darling. It’s all right. You don’t have to defend me.” He glanced at his queen with eyes that looked weary, and wounded. “You sought me out for a reason, my liege. Tell me what you wish of me.”

She furled her silver brows. “I actually wanted several things. I wanted to meet the woman you were willing to place above allegiance to your people.”

Colleen smiled coldly. “Here I am. Do you think I’m worth it?”

“It’s not wise to bait her,” Duncan murmured.

“No.” Titania smiled too, but it was reminiscent of a scimitar. “I could flay the skin off your body.”

“Feed me to the Irichna?” Colleen inquired caustically. “I’ve been there more times than I can count. You don’t scare me. But I am angry you caused Duncan pain.”

Titania fixed her unearthly gaze on Duncan. “She doesn’t understand us.”

He blew out a breath. “She understands me. I’m not certain about the rest of us.”

“That was the second thing I wanted.” Titania forged ahead, making Colleen think the queen lacked even the barest rudiments of how to conduct a two-way conversation. “When you sought me out, there was only one witch-Sidhe pair, now there seem to be three.” She spread almost translucent fingers before her. “Why are you making my life so trying? Ronin, in particular, is nearly impossible to control. I have no idea what he sees in that black-haired hag, but—”

“Now you hold on a fucking minute.” Colleen’s temper shot over the top. Her blood heated with outrage. “Roxanne Lantry is one of the strongest, most courageous women I know. I will not stand by and hear her slandered. Do I make myself clear?” She sucked air and forged ahead. “Plus, at least so far all Colleen and Roz have done is talk with some of your precious Sidhe males. That scarcely makes them couples.”

Titania rolled her eyes and fanned herself with one hand. “What a feisty bunch you are. I had witches pegged as a docile lot who cast runes around a fire and chanted up homilies.”

“You had us pegged wrong.” Colleen bit her lower lip. She wanted to slug Titania, but figured it wouldn’t go over well. Damn royalty anyway. They treated whoever they wanted like crap, and got away with it—every time.

Duncan looked miserable. He moved between Colleen and the Queen of Faerie. “Titania, you cannot deal rudely with my wife-to-be. She will soon be the lady of this manor.” He inhaled raggedly. “If you came here to sever my ties with Faerie and relieve me of my immortality, just get on with it.”

“Presenting yourself to me like a plucked goose, are you?”

“This isn’t funny,” Colleen snapped. “He’s doing the best he can. I don’t fully understand all your rules, or I’d help him.”

Titania snapped her fingers in front of Colleen. “Oberon’s breath, woman. Stand down. Show some respect for me. I’m many thousands of years old.”

“If you want respect from me,” Colleen said evenly, wondering where her courage was coming from, “you’ll have to earn it. I have a funny way of not respecting people who treat those I love badly.”

Duncan turned to her; his mouth was twisted into an expression she couldn’t read. “I love you for being fierce and trying to protect me, but let’s hear Titania out. She’ll tell us what she wants eventually.”

“Indeed I will,” the queen huffed.

Colleen opened her mouth, but Duncan shook his head. She balled her hands into fists so hard her nails dug into her palms. While she waited for the queen to spit out what she wanted, Colleen made a conscious effort to unkink her aching hands.

“Much better.” Titania frowned. “I was beginning to wonder if you could remain silent, or if you always had to have the last word.” She flicked a finger toward Colleen. “Always having to win isn’t a good trait in a woman.”

“So it’s better in a man?”

Duncan’s mouth twitched. In moments, he started to laugh. After a long, awkward moment, Titania joined in. Colleen just watched, open mouthed, wondering what was so funny.

Titania took a substantial gulp from the glass in her hand, and then set it down. “You may not like me,” she said to Colleen, “but I think I’m going to like you very much. I was testing your mettle. You not only passed,” the queen snorted, “you surpassed my wildest expectations of what you’d be like. You’re tough, gutsy, and apparently not afraid to stand up to anyone.”

Colleen swallowed outrage so she wouldn’t lope across the room and deck the Queen of Faerie. “That…that,” she waved her arms at a loss for words, “was all just a test?” Titania nodded, blue eyes guileless. “You’re not going to excommunicate Duncan, or take away his immortality?” A complex array of emotions buffeted her. Gratitude sparred with anger that the queen hadn’t been more direct.

“No. I’m not planning to do any of those things.” Titania shifted her gaze to Duncan. “At least not today, but if you do something to anger me in the future…”

Joy, so primal it was painful to look at, bloomed on his face. Colleen blanched as the depth of his feelings for her slammed home in raw, visceral Technicolor. She meant everything to him, enough for him to be willing to walk away from home, hearth, and kin.

“Thank you, my liege.” He bowed low.

Colleen’s anger evaporated in the face of Duncan’s obvious relief. Courtesy of her blow-hot, blow-out, Irish temper, she’d always been quick to flare up, but equally quick to let things go. She faced Titania and bowed too. “Thank you.”

The queen smiled broadly. “Now that we have the preliminaries out of the way, aren’t you going to invite me to share your evening meal? I want to hear all about the upcoming wedding.” She skewered Colleen with her unnerving gaze. “You must tell me more about witches. I had no idea you were such a captivating group.”

Colleen wiped the grin that wanted to surface off her face. “We can be enchanting, lecherous as all get out, and harder than hell to get shut of.”

Duncan stammered a garbled mixture of words in English and Gaelic. Colleen had a hard time following him, but thought he was asking for a rain check on dinner.

“Pfft.” The queen waved a hand toward him. “I know the two of you were rutting when I showed up. The air in here positively reeks of lust, but you have company now, so sex will have to wait.”

“It’s fine,” Colleen said. “I’d like to get to know the Queen of Faerie, and I’d be honored to share a meal with her.”

“Truly?” Duncan looked at her; his eyes glowed with love and relief.

“Truly.” Colleen glanced about. “Which way is the kitchen? I can probably cook something once I know what I have to work with.”

Duncan draped an arm around her. “No need for that. Sidhe servants are invisible until we need them. I’ll take care of ordering up a meal.” He laid his cheek against Colleen’s and strode from the room.

“Excellent.” Titania clapped her hands together. “Shall we wait in here or in your dining room?”

Colleen felt herself blush. “’Fraid I don’t know where that is, either. I haven’t been here very long.”

“I suspect that rascal of a Sidhe has kept you in his bedchamber the entire time.” Titania laughed, the sound reminiscent of wind chimes. “I remember what it was like to be young, with my juices flowing.” She picked up her glass, settled on a leather settee, and patted the spot next to her. “Come sit. We can chat until Duncan returns, and afterward too. I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”

To her surprise, Colleen realized she felt the same way. Suspicion flared. Had the queen trapped her in some kind of spell? “Did you do something?”

Titania met her gaze. “You tell me. Did I?”

Colleen fanned magic through the room, and relaxed. When she smiled, it felt genuine. “Guess not.”

“You have a great deal of common sense, my dear. It came to the fore and told you I could be trusted.”

“Is that what happened?”

Titania nodded. The wisdom of the ages shone from the depths of her ancient eyes.

“The odd part,” Colleen grinned, “is I believe you.”

“No reason not to. Now tell me all about witches, my dear. Especially the one who seems to have my Sidhe council in thrall…”

“If it’s an unusual event for your subjects to talk to anyone outside their ranks, it might seem like that to you, but Ceridwen made us all…” Colleen chatted on, finding Titania easy to talk with. When Duncan returned a little later, the Queen of Fairie was starting to feel like a friend.

Ann Gimpel is a clinical psychologist, with a Jungian bent.  She’s also a mountaineer and vagabond at heart. A lifelong aficionado of the unusual, she began writing speculative fiction on a bet. Since then her short fiction has appeared in a number of webzines, magazines, and anthologies. Her paranormal romance and urban fantasy novels are widely available in e-format and print. When she’s not writing, she’s skiing, hiking, or climbing with her husband and three wolf hybrids.

http://anngimpel.blogspot.com
 

“What in the shit did you do our mate, Jackson?”

Marc flipped a lock of hair off the cheek of their sleeping mate and smiled when she turned her face into his hand. A bruise had bloomed above her left eye, courtesy of Anna’s up close and personal meeting with the floor. They’d be lucky if she didn’t have a concussion on top of the migraine Jackson hadn’t believed she had. Behind him Colton questioned Daniel Jackson, part of their pack and the officer who had pulled over and falsely arrested—or brought in for questioning as he claimed—Anna for stealing her own car. Colton was looking into who had made the claim in the first place, though both of them felt it had to have been her ex, now known as Peter Belky.

“Nothing, Alpha. I swear. She started looking sick in the car and said something about a migraine. I thought maybe she was on something. As soon as I got her into the station, she puked all over me and then just kind of fell over. I’m sorry, Alphas. I called you as soon as it happened, since she said she’d been talking to you.”

Marc snorted, and with one more caress of his thumb over the knot on her forehead, stood and turned to Jackson. “You deserved to get barfed on, dumbshit. Didn’t your mama teach you better than to treat females with such disrespect?”

“Yes, sir.” Jackson’s cheeks were ruddy with embarrassment. He fidgeted with his hat, ready to bolt at the word go. “I didn’t know she was your mate, Alphas.”

“No one does. We just found her today.” Colton stepped closer to the couch.

“And since we haven’t even spoken to her yet, you’ll do well to keep your mouth closed until further notice. Do we understand each other, Jackson?” Marc crossed his arms over his chest and begged Jackson to say anything other than yes.

“Absolutely.”

“Good. Now get out of here. Oh, and where’s her car?”

Jackson stopped his quick retreat from the lieutenant’s office where they’d taken Anna to lay on the couch when she’d fallen off the chair, and swallowed. “Probably already at the pound. I called it in right after I stopped her for speeding and learned the car had been reported.”

“Fine. We’ll take care of it.” William Shine ran the pound, and he was one of theirs. They’d have no problem retrieving Anna’s SUV. In fact he watched Colton pull his phone from his pocket and dial before Jackson had completely exited.

Now their mate was sacked out on the couch, dead to the world after one of their paramedics had given her a shot of something for the pain. Must have been one hell of a headache to make her throw up and pass out on the floor. Having never suffered from such a burden, he couldn’t comprehend.

“How often do you think this happens to her?” Colton kneeled next to the couch after his quick phone call and stared at Anna. Marc could tell his brother wanted very much to touch her.

“Hell if I know. Not too much, I hope to God.”

“Zach went through her purse and found a bottle of prescription pills.” Colton gave in to temptation and drew a finger slowly down the skin of Anna’s arm. “That means it happens enough she has to carry it with her. Damn thing was just filled two weeks ago, and he said there were two missing. He also found an epi-pen, which means she has some kind of severe allergy to something. We’ll have to find out what and be hyper-aware until we can mate her.”