Beyond the Highland Myst(579)

It leaned back in the chair, swept its hands through its long dark hair, then laced its fingers together behind its head. Its powerful arms rippled with the movement, cut shoulders bulging beneath the black T-shirt, massive biceps flexing, gold armbands glinting in the morning sun spilling through the tall windows. It took immense effort to keep her gaze firmly fixed on its face, keep it from sweeping down over all that fairy perfection.

The Books of the Fae contained dozens of tales about how, in the days of yore, on nights when the moon hung fat and full against a violet dusk and the Wild Hunt ran, young maidens had raced into the forests, hoping to be taken by one of the exotic Fae males. Had gone willingly to their doom.

Gabby O'Callaghan would never be such a fool. Whatever it had in store for her, she would fight it every inch of the way.

"A Sidhe-seer," it said, dark gaze scrutinizing her intently "It never occurred to me to look for one of you, that any of you might still be about. Aoibheal believes the Hunters eliminated the last of you long ago, as did I. How many others of your bloodline have the vision?"

''I'm the last." For the first time in her life she was grateful she had no other family members who shared her curse. There was no one else to protect; only her own survival was at stake.

While it studied her, she pondered its words.

Ah-veel, it had said: the High Queen of the Seelie, Court of the Light. Hunters: The mere word iced her blood. As a child they'd been the bogeyman in her every closet, the monster beneath her every bed. Handpicked by the queen and dispatched to hunt the Sidhe-seers, they were ruthless, terrifying creatures that hailed from the Unseelie King's hellish realm of shadow and ice. She might not know all the Fae by name— there were too many, and they donned too many different glamours for that— but Gram had taught her about the most powerful ones at a young age.

"Your mother is no longer alive?"

"She doesn't have the vision." Stay away from my mom, you bastard.

"Then how did she protect you?"

Gabby flinched inwardly. I can't protect her, damn it, Mother! How can I protect her from something I can't see? Jilly had shouted at Moira O'Callaghan on that dark, snowy night so long ago. Three days later her mother was gone.

"Who taught you how to hide from us?" it pressed. "Not that you did a very good job at it." A smirk curved its sensual lips. "But then, women never have been able to keep their eyes off me."

"Oh, you are so arrogant. I just couldn't figure out if you were a fairy or not," Gabby snapped.

A dark eyebrow arched. "And you thought the answer to that question might be found in my pants? That's why you were looking there?" Its dark gaze shimmered with amusement.

"The only reason I looked there," she said, flushing, "was because I couldn't believe you would just so blatantly... re-rearrange your— your..." She trailed off, then hissed, "What is it with men? Women don't do things like that! Move their... their personal parts about in public."

"Mores the pity. I, for one, would find it quite fascinating." Its gaze dropped to her breasts.

The raw sexual heat in its gaze made her nipples tighten. Made her shiver. How could its mere gaze have as much tactile impact as if it had dragged a velvety tongue across her skin? "It was your eyes that threw me," she gutted. "I thought all fairies had iridescent eyes. I was off-kilter, trying to figure out what you were."

"My eyes," it said lazily, gaze raking slowly back up to her face. "I see. So how is it you learned to hide?"

Gabby blew out a breath. "My grandmother was also a Sidhe-seer. She raised me. But she's dead now. I'm the last." She couldn't resist asking. "So why don't you have iridescent eyes? And why do you bleed?"

"Long story, ka-lyrra. And one you're about to get very involved in."

At that, another shiver kissed her spine. "You're really not going to kill me?" she said warily. She was exhausted; mentally, physically, and emotionally wrung out. Her head was still pounding from head-butting the fairy, and she was desperate for reassurance, any reassurance. Even if it came from her enemy.

"Oh, no, ka-lyrra," it purred silkily. "That would be such a waste. I have far better uses for you than that."

Well, she'd gotten her "reassurance."

Too bad it wasn't even remotely reassuring.





6





Far better uses indeed, Adam thought, leaning back in his chair, watching emotions skitter across her delicate features like sunlight rippling across a loch. Anger warred with exhaustion, frustration dueled with fear.

By Danu, she was beautiful. But beauty alone had never been enough to pique his interest. Passion was his magnet. Mortal fire drew his immortal ice.