Beyond the Highland Myst(598)

Nibbling her lip, she glared at the spot where only last night her dilapidated little Corolla had sat. In its place was a brand-new BMW. And if she wasn't mistaken, it was one of those high-aid roadsters. It was red. And shiny. It had all its trim and everything. And it was a convertible.

1 take care of what's mine, he'd said. And a purely feminine part of her had felt a shiver that was more delicious than chilling.

Oh, yes, she was going to hell in a handbasket.

But as far as handbaskets went, she thought glumly, it was an awfully nice one.





* * *





"Cincinnati." said Mael, appearing abruptly at Darroc's side.

"What? You've found him?" Darroc turned, startled. He'd not expected such swift developments.

"Yes. Apparently he's looking for his half-blood son there."

"You're certain of this?"

"I haven't been to the human city myself, but Callan saw him there only a few days ago. He'd sensed the presence of many Tuatha Dé sifting to that dimension and wondered at it. He confirmed that Adam is there. And that he can't see us at all."

Darroc smiled. The power a Tuatha Dé used when sifting dimensions left a residue other Tuatha Dé could sense. Though imprecise, though it scattered swiftly with the passage of time, the residue, when fresh, could be tracked to a general area.

"Excellent, Mael. You've done well."

Adam Black was going to die. And Darroc was going to watch. He would command the Hunters to take it slow, to strike first only to wound...





* * *





Her handbasket was, to be precise, a BMW Alpina Roadster V8.

Complete with climate-controlled leather seats, navigation system, Harman Kardon stereo, handless phone, and an engine that simply purred with sleek, state-of-the-art muscle.

Gabby guided the ultimate driving machine into the parking garage beneath Fountain Square, eased into a parking space, and turned it off with a sigh of genuine relief. One of the nice things about her Corolla was that she'd never been afraid she might wreck it; it wouldn't have looked much different if she had. Nor had she ever worried about getting a speeding ticket, because unless she caught a serious back wind, she was lucky to hit sixty in it.

But this thing; oh, this car was almost as dangerous as the fairy who'd stolen it.

Unsnapping her seat belt, she slipped her purse over her shoulder, got out of the car, waited impatiently while he disentangled himself (the roadster wasn't an easy fit for a man of his brawn), then pressed the little button on the keypad to engage the alarm.

When she'd first slid into the plush leather seats of the dreamy car, she'd popped open the glove box and damned if there hadn't been a tidy little registration in there, free of lien, with her name on it.

And the bill of sale: $137,856.02.

No doubt about it, her life had plunged from the realm of the absurd into the downright surreal. She'd just driven a car that cost more than a lot of people's houses did. And already a tiny part of her was busy making the case that, considering she was risking her life, surely she was entitled to some recompense? It was only a car, right? And nobody would ever know. It wasn't as if she were hinting anybody. He'd said so himself: How was she ever going to convince anybody to take it back when it sure looked like she was the legal owner? And there were no outstanding parking tickets on it. No warrant for her arrest. Which begged the interesting question: "What did you do with my car?"

"Drove it into the Ohio River." he said mildly.

"Oh." Well. Nothing she'd not been tempted to do herself a time or two. Looked like she was stuck with the BMW if she wanted to get to work next week. Assuming she lived thorough the weekend.

"Hurry up," she said, impatient to get on with things. She couldn't shake the ominous feeling that her life had only begun its downward spiral and worse things were yet to come.

As they stepped from the dark garage into the momentarily blinding sunlight and began walking toward the square. Gabby scanned the busy streets, searching for fairies. The sidewalks were teeming with people moving en masse down toward the river in the general direction of the stadium. Must be a baseball game, she decided, briefly torturing herself with the thought of normal, pleasant things like hot dogs and beer and pretzels, family outings, and the sharp crack of ball against a bat.

Once again people were out doing things, socializing and having fun, while she was frantically attempting to rectify the latest fairy debacle.

"Just what am I supposed to say when I find these beings?" she asked irritably.

"Tell them that I'd like an audience with the queen at the next new moon."

"The next new moon?'' Scowling, she stopped walking. "Why not today? When is the next new moon?"