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She was in shock. He knew. He knew all about David. He knew how to get to her—through threats directed towards David. What—oh what was she going to do?
Ignoring the hostess who met them at the door, Pestale walked Royce to a dark corner, pulled out a chair, and pushed her into it. He pulled one up close to her and sat. “There. I see we understand one another. There will be no more running from me, because I know now where he lives. You led me to him.”
She was responsible for this.
She had no idea that he would follow her scent. She had thought he was in the past—now she understood why it didn’t feel right. It had been illusion. She had led him to David. It was all her fault. She sat perfectly still. She was stunned, and her mind was trying to find a solution.
“I thought you were in England … in another century,” she said, stalling for time. Chance and Trevor would come; they would help her protect David.
“You saw what I wanted you to see,” he answered deliberately as he played with the saltshaker.
A waitress ambled over, but he chased her away with a thought and returned his attention to Royce. “You aren’t hungry—are you, love?”
She ignored this and frowned. She had to stall him. “Yes, but you were there.”
“I was, but only for a short time. I have learned a great many things about you, Princess.” He gazed at her for a long moment and added, “What I learned told me what I needed to do. Those girls died … for a reason. They died because I knew what you would do. You wouldn’t leave them there in the past. You would take them back to their time, their loved ones, and that is what you did. And then it was just a matter of waiting a bit longer for you to visit the human family you have grown so attached to.”
“Are you telling me that you butchered them for no other reason than—” she spat at him.
He cut her off. “Yes.” He sighed. “What is all the fuss? They are humans … their lives are nothing.” He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away sharply. “You will give me your hand. You will give me your mouth and lay yourself down for me—and one day you will do so willingly.”
Royce felt fear clutch at her insides. “I don’t see it that way.” She gave him a hard look. “What I see is a cold-blooded killer, selfish and dark inside—I could never be with someone like you!”
“Allow me to explain. As I have said, you will be mine—all mine and very shortly. I followed you, and now, I know where young David and his family live. There is nothing you can do about that. It is time for you to accept the inevitable and begin to think how you may enjoy eternity at my side.”
“The inevitable—eternity with you?” she said in horror.
“You will come with me willingly. You will leave a message for Chancemont LeBlanc and your Fae pal, telling them you have decided it would be more … fun to rule the world at my side than take orders from your Seelie queen.”
“Or?” She knew the answer even as she posed the question.
“Or, simply put, I will torture and maim the child,” Pestale said with one dark brow arched.
How could he? How could he be so evil? “It won’t work,” she snapped. “Chance will never believe such a thing of me. You think you know me, but you don’t. He, however, does, and he will search you out and kill you!”
“I don’t really care what he believes. In the end, he will have no choice but to believe it, for if he finds us and asks you to return with him, you won’t.”
She had to think. She had to find a way out of this. She was desperate. She called on her invisibility and her Death Sword simultaneously.
She sliced through the air to get at him, but he was too fast for her; he’d already shifted behind her and held the wrist of her sword hand firmly. “Do not make me punish you, lovely Princess. I want you, yes. I may even have to admit feelings for you … that I had not thought possible, but I will hurt you if I must to get my way. That hurt will be indirect. I would start first with the father … then the mother.”
Royce closed her eyes, and her shoulders slumped. She sent her Death Sword away, fearing he might grapple it from her. She didn’t believe the sword would allow itself to be taken by any but one of her family, but at this point she was taking no chances till she could spell it. She was in trouble, so she threatened, “Chance will chase you to the ends of the earth. He has sworn vengeance, and in the end Chance will beat you—whether you have me or not.”
“Ah, but how can he chase me through time without the Peckering? You have it, and she answers to you.” He clucked his tongue. “Think, you—I planned this all ahead.”
“He will find a way. He will work with my queen to find a way into whatever past you scurry to, and he will kill you, regardless of what I say or do.”
“Will he? I think not—I am thoroughly prepared, you see … and shall await his arrival should he break the time barrier without your Peckering and enter my domain.” He reached for her hand. “Now come …”
“You will not touch me,” she said, seething.
“There is the father, the mother, the child,” he said quietly. “Will you sacrifice them?”
“Yes,” she bluffed. “For I will not be touched against my will! I am coming with you because I believe I can find a way out of this. I will give in for the moment to only that—accompany you to hell, but I believe Chance will come for me and will kill you … I …”
“Very well,” he said confidently. “As long as you come with me. I know in the end you will be seduced by the desire I have for you.” He took her wrist and pulled her in close for a kiss.
She allowed him to touch her lips with his and then bit him, hard. When he drew back in pain and shock, she said in a voice that was a mixture of fury, disgust, and hatred, “Don’t try that again.” For emphasis, her sword once again appeared in her fist, and she swished it through the air, spelling it with ancient words.
