Beyond the Highland Myst(635)

"No!" Scandalized, the maids twittered, exchanging glances among themselves.

Gabby nodded. "It's true. I seriously considered suing the man for misrepresentation of material fact. Clothed, he might look like a dream, but out of those clothes, he's a nightmare."

The maids were all staring at her with varying degrees of shock and disappointment. Only the leggy brunette was still looking somewhat skeptical.

Gabby made a mental note to swipe a few bananas and deposit them in his room. She might have giggled at the thought had she not been so horrified with herself. Never in her life had she sunk to such depths. And apparently she wasn't quite done yet.

"You haven't noticed any bananas missing from the kitchen, have you? I'd keep a close eye on them if I were you. You might want to watch the sausages too."

And with that, she swept past them. Well, in as much as a hungover woman in jeans, a T-shirt, and tennis shoes (damn it, why hadn't she taken the slinky dress and heels from Macy's when she'd had the chance?) was capable of sweeping.





* * *





"For Christ's sake, Drustan," Adam said irritably, shifting in the saddle, trying to find a more comfortable position, knowing there wasn't one, because saddles hadn't been designed for men with immortal hard-ons, "you didn't even know that the purpose of your four feast day rituals was to uphold the walls between our realms until I told you. You thought they were just a heralding of the change of season and an affirmation of your commitment to The Compact."

"I ken it, and that fashes me more than a wee," Drustan exploded. "What if, in our ignorance, we'd failed to perform them in the past?"

"First of all, you never fail to keep an oath," Adam muttered darkly, "so I highly doubt that would ever have become an issue. Even if your whole clan were somehow wiped out, your bloody ghost would probably come back and bloody dance around the bloody stones. Second, it's not my fault your clan misplaced The Compact for so many centuries and you forgot the meaning behind the rituals. And third— this is really the only relevant part and it's what I keep telling you— " Adam said, enunciating each word tightly. Christ, his body hurt with wanting his Sidhe-seer. She was on safe ground. It was time. It was past time to make her his. How long had they been separated now? Fifteen mortal hours? It felt like a century. His skin was cold where, for the past few days, she'd been constantly pressed against him. "The queen will come, Drustan. She'll never let the walls come down. She'll come, demanding to know why you're not performing the ritual. Then I'll tell her about Darroc and all will be well. You'll perform the rites long before your twenty-four-hour window of time is up. And she'll be grateful, she won't be angry with you."

Christ, they'd been over this a dozen times. The Keltar Druids had from midnight on the dawning of the feast days of Imbolc, Beltane, Lughnassadh, and Samhain to midnight at the close of the feast day, to perform the necessary rituals. During that time the walls would thin, but they wouldn't collapse completely until midnight on the close of. For millennia uncounted, the Keltar had always performed their rituals at midnight on the dawning of.

When they failed to do so this upcoming Lughnassadh, once the walls began to thin, Aoibheal would appear, demanding to know what was going on. Adam was willing to bet she'd show by noon or shortly thereafter. There was no way she'd let the Isle of Morar be exposed, no way she'd let Fae realms rise up in the midst of human ones.

This was his one sure way to force the queen to appear. To bring down the walls between realms.

"And furthermore," he added darkly, "if you don't do this for me, there's not going to be any frigging Compact to uphold anymore. If Darroc overthrows the queen, he'll spill mortal blood in a heartbeat. Then you won't have to bother with your oaths; there won't be any walls between realms. You'll have a Tuatha Dé war on your hands, with the Unseelie roaming free in your world, and, believe me, the damage they could do in a mere matter of days would make your Black Plague seem like a pesky cold. In fact," he growled, "it will probably be your mortal blood Darroc will spill first, because he won't like that you possess so much knowledge of our ways. The two of you are a threat he'll want removed immediately."

"There is that." Dageus said, nodding his agreement and looking pointedly at Drustan.

"Is he always such a stick in the mud?" Adam demanded of Dageus, shooting a dark look at Drustan.

"Drustan's ever been overbroody about oaths and whatnot," Dageus said dryly.

"And it's a blethering good thing one of us is." Drustan said, casting Dageus a glare.

"Right, because if we both were, you'd be dead. Och, I forgot, so would I," Dageus said mildly.