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She shifted and was near his ear before she shifted off again. “He is Seelie, and, yes, he created you … but you will never be as good as a Seelie Fae.”
He spun around to slap her, but she was already across the room laughing at him and making his fury boil. He spat at her, “I am better … I am better than …”
“If you were, we wouldn’t be talking. You would already have destroyed me or imprisoned me for my audacity,” she said, taunting him.
He frowned and stepped towards her. “No! You don’t see it, do you? I want you … I want you willing and ready to be mine. I even admire your spirit, but I shall not tolerate much more.”
“What—more, like this?” she answered and once again sent him hurtling across the room and slamming into the opposite wall.
She smiled sweetly. “I never wanted to be a warrior, Pestale. I never really wanted to kill anything—not even you. I had always hoped we could negotiate with you—until I saw that Chance
would never let you live. Now, I see you certainly must be destroyed. It occurred to me that if I killed you, David and his family would be safe, as would the human world. I see it all now so clearly, what I missed before—you, simply, are not redeemable.”
He charged her like a bull blinded by fury, but she shifted, and this time she knew she would shock him, for she shifted outside the door that had kept her in the room.
A black magic ward would never keep a Daoine Royal, even a half-blood Daoine Royal, caged! But she knew she had to hurry.
She was not the only one with Daoine blood. His father was the Dark King, and Pestale’s father had used his own blood when he created him. Pestale had his father’s blood in him, and the Dark King had been a full-blood Daoine Seelie Fae!
She had a plan, and in order for it to work, she had to keep one step ahead of Pestale. However, he wasn’t going to make it easy.
He was in her face, all at once, grabbing her around her waist and holding her tightly. “Damn but you are everything I want, you little killer! Now … to teach you that I am not your enemy …” He bent his head to her ear and whispered, “Bite me again, and you will see your young David maimed. I will keep him alive and torture him for all your wrongs against me.” He allowed this to sink in and then kissed her hard and without affection as his tongue attempted to explore her own.
When he came away from the kiss he said, his voice low and husky, “Beloved one, don’t fight me any longer. I mean to keep you satisfied and at my side—”
“Never! You will never have me at your side. I would rather die!”
“You shan’t though. I won’t let you die, for one way or another … you will be mine, but I can hurt what you love.”
She growled and shoved him hard. “Try it—try hurting David or his family in any way and see me totally unleashed. Is that how you mean to seduce me?”
He stopped and directed a long, hard look at her. “It is all too obvious that you cannot be seduced—not yet.”
“Seduction takes time … it takes finesse and skill. Do you not have all three? Or are you not as powerful as you think?” She taunted him again.
He brought up his hand to slap her and once again found himself in the air and landing hard. He got up, wiped a great deal of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, and stood panting a moment. “I think I’ll go visit your favorite little humans and teach you a lesson!”
Anxiousness took over her resolve, and she stepped towards him. “Don’t want to play with me any longer? Am I too much for the big bad?”
“Play with you? Yes. Fight with you—no. It is time you see who holds the reins in this union!”
And he was gone!
She stared after him. “What have I done? Peckering!” she shouted, and the dagger, which had been only a call away, appeared in her hand.
She fisted it. “Peckering, get me out of here, and hurry—you have to take me to David!”
“We are in the ‘in between’. I cannot take us out without the ancient spell—it is yours to command, Princess,” the Peckering said softly.
“I don’t know it!” Royce wailed.
“You do—think. You were taught the spell, one of many … remember it, for it is there in your brain’s library, waiting,” the Peckering whispered, “for I know it not.”
Royce went into herself and began searching her mind, but there was no time—she knew there wasn’t enough time at all!
~ Sixteen ~
CHANCE IMPATIENTLY SAT for tea and pastries with the wizard and Trevor, all the while carrying on a quiet conversation with Miss Charm, who wanted to know everything about everyone they had in common.
