Bedeviled (25 page)

Damn him, anyway. This was all Culhane’s fault. She’d never asked for a destiny. Hadn’t she been happy before? Painting her windows, enjoying her rut? Scowling, Maggie had to admit that, damn it, the answer there was a big
no.
She hadn’t been happy. Not completely. There’d always been something missing in her life.

Not like there was a big, gaping hole or anything. Maggie’d done fine, despite her lousy taste in men and the fact that she couldn’t make a living as an artist or that she’d dug herself into the aforementioned rut. It was just, at odd moments, she’d sometimes felt like she’d forgotten something. Put a piece of herself on a shelf somewhere and couldn’t remember where she’d tucked it. Like a missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle, that nagging something was there.

It didn’t ruin the picture—or her life—but if that missing piece fit into place, then everything would have been whole. Complete.

But until she’d met Culhane she hadn’t had a clue what that missing piece was.

Now she was really afraid she knew.

She missed hearing Culhane’s voice. Seeing those rare smiles. The feel of him. The touch of his hand. The way his gaze landed on her with the power of a caress.

Damn him, anyway. She sat up, punched her pillow into shape, then flopped back onto it again. Irritated at Culhane and furious with herself, she muttered, “He kidnapped you, idiot. He’s got your sister holed up God knows where with a Viking Faery, and Eileen’s all alone with a pixie.”

Anger surged, then receded.

He was doing what he had to; she knew that. What he believed was important, not just for him, but for his world. She’d learned enough in her time at Sanctuary to know that Culhane and the others hadn’t lied to her, at least about this. For centuries male Faeries had been treated like boy toys by the females. They had no say in their councils, and unless they were married—or, as they put it,
joined
—they might as well be invisible.

The warriors were a little better off, which only made Maggie sort of admire Culhane a bit—which she wasn’t happy about, either. But she had to admit, he didn’t
have
to fight for the other males of his race. He could have had his life and the rights warriors enjoyed and never given the others a thought. But he wouldn’t.

He was risking everything to help all Fae males.

“No matter who he has to use,” Maggie muttered thickly, and turned off the lamp at her bedside.

Shadows drifted into the room. Outside her window night crowded close and the stars glittered brightly. She wondered if Culhane was looking at the sky, too, then told herself to stop being a romantic idiot.

Still furious with Culhane and even angrier with herself for giving a flying damn about him, Maggie surprised herself by dropping into sleep. Then the dreams came.

“You’re still angry.” Culhane came close, smelling of the forest and leather and pure male.

The scent of him surrounded her, his heat reached out for her and Maggie swayed toward him. She didn’t want to. Had promised herself that when she met up with him again, she’d be cold. Hard. No better than he deserved.

Yet one glance from those pale green eyes of his and she felt herself yearning.
Damn it.

“Yes, I’m still angry,” she said, despite the way her body was beginning to heat and tremble. “You lied to me. You used my family against me.”

“I need you, Maggie.”

“You need me to be what I’m not.”

“No,” he said softly, reaching out to drag the tips of his fingers along her cheek. “That’s not what I’m talking about. I need you. Your touch. Your warmth. My body aches for yours. Has for longer than I care to admit. That kiss we shared haunts me. I hunger for the taste of you in my mouth again.”

Oh, God, she wanted that, too. It didn’t seem possible, but even more heat swamped her, pooling in her center, making her wet and achy and so damn ready for him her knees shook.

“I don’t want to need you,” she said, lifting her gaze to his.

Around them candles leaped into life, tiny, bright flames dancing and swaying in a wind that neither of them could feel. Behind them a lush bed with a mountain of pillows lay waiting, and overhead a sweep of stars blanketed the sky.

“But you do,” he whispered, his fingers now moving over her lips gently, tenderly.

“I do,” she said, leaning into him, feeling her breasts press against his chest, her nipples hard and sensitive to the slightest touch.

“Then take me, Maggie,” he said, bending down, lowering his mouth to hers. His breath brushed across her face; his eyes seemed to swallow her in their pale, pale depths. “Take me, and let me take you.”

She felt him. Felt the nearness of a kiss she’d hungered to experience again—

And the dream changed, images fading, Culhane slipping away from her as new images rose up in her mind and had her twisting on the tangled bedsheets. Her dreams became nightmares in the space of a single heartbeat, and even in sleep, Maggie fought to get free of them.

Fae invading her world, destroying what they couldn’t take, driving humanity underground, where mortals huddled in fear and hid from beings they couldn’t understand. Strangers fell away then and became something else.

Something more horrifying.

Nora, lying still in the backyard, eyes sightlessly focused on a deep blue sky. Eileen, kneeling beside her mother, wailing in grief and fear.

Maggie’s tears slid down her cheeks as the nightmares gripped her. Her panic was real, her heartbeat pounding in her chest. She knew that if she could only wake up, everything would be all right, but she couldn’t find her way out of the dream.

Suddenly the images changed again, and a different future showed itself.

Nora, happy, with a baby in the curve of her arm as she smiled down at Eileen.

A bustling city where humanity went blithely on its way, completely oblivious to any threat from the world of Fae.

Finally Culhane, smiling at Maggie as he pulled her down atop his naked body and buried himself deep inside her. She could feel him. His skin. His strength. The invasion of his body into hers, and she quivered on the brink of release, knowing that it would be more fulfilling, more spectacular than anything she could have imagined.

Her body arched; her head fell back; Culhane called her name—

And she woke up.

“What the hell?” Bolting upright in her bed, Maggie gasped for breath and looked blindly about the room. The nightmares had already bled away, leaving only that last, lingering image in her mind. Culhane.

It always came back to Culhane.

She could still feel his hands on her. Feel her climax trembling just out of reach. “How is it fair that I wake up just before the good part?”

Shaking, she pushed her hair out of her face, tried to stop thinking about the fact that her body was still humming and concentrate instead on her family. Yes, the nightmares were vicious and terrifying, but they were only nightmares.

Eileen and Nora were safe. Maggie knew it. Felt it. Besides, no way would she even
consider
another possibility.

She swung her legs off the side of the bed, walked across the quiet, shadow-filled room to the open window and stared out at the night. Clouds moved silently across the sky, like ghost ships sailing across a black sea, making the stars seem to wink in and out of existence. The quiet was overwhelming, broken only by Sheba’s whine as she slept.

It was as if she were alone in the world. She didn’t like it.

Glancing over her shoulder at the empty bed behind her, she ached for Culhane.

“Just dreams. That’s all.” Saying it sort of helped, but she still felt confused and scared, and so damned sexually frustrated she wished heartily for that shower massager she’d been planning to buy.

But even as she thought it, she knew that wasn’t true either. She didn’t want
just
an orgasm.

She wanted a Culhane-driven orgasm.

Despite the fact that the man had lied to her, ordered her around and kidnapped her family, she wanted him so badly she could hardly draw a breath.

“Maggie, you are such an idiot,” she whispered. “You can bet Culhane’s not lying in bed dreaming about you. So get over it. Get past it. Just do what you’re supposed to do so you can finish this and forget all about Faery warriors with pale green eyes.”

She sighed and leaned her forehead against the cold window glass. “Yeah. That’s gonna happen.”

By morning Maggie had pushed the memories of her dreams and nightmares into a tiny corner of her mind, then barred and locked the door behind them. She got Sheba fed, Eileen reassured about her mom’s safety, then off to school, and was halfway through her second painting job of the morning before the next disaster struck.

If she did say so herself, the Bank of Castle Bay was looking damn good. She had wreaths on the double doors, and pine boughs dripping with ornaments decorating every window. She’d painted a layer of snow across the bottoms of the windows, and was just going back in to add candles when she heard the voice come from directly behind her.

“I’ve come for the power.”

“Damn it.” Maggie tensed, every bone and muscle and nerve in her body on red alert.

Rather than turning around, she stared into the window glass and caught the reflection of an older woman standing behind her. About fiftyish, the woman had short, stylishly cut white hair, sharp blue eyes and was dressed in one of those elegantly styled business-type suits.

Okay, not what she was expecting.

Then Maggie focused on the red lights flashing in the eyes of the “woman.” Definitely demon.

She turned around carefully, still holding her jar of lemon yellow paint in one hand and a thick sable brush in the other. Running her gaze up and down the woman, Maggie said, “You’re not exactly dressed for fighting.”

“Oh,” the demon woman said, idly checking her—let’s face it—great manicure, “this shouldn’t take long.”

“Okeydokey, then.” Maggie glanced at the street, crowded with shoppers and cars idling while waiting for a parking spot to open. “I’m guessing we don’t do this here.”

“No, I think not.” She smoothed the tip of her finger over her eyebrow and glanced toward an alley. “We should step in there. I wouldn’t want anyone to watch me kill you and get the wrong idea. I’m meeting a friend for lunch at the diner in twenty minutes and don’t have time to waste making up explanations.”

“Good plan.” Maggie’s mind was racing, and she had half a mind just to stand where she was. Clearly the woman wouldn’t risk a confrontation in front of witnesses, so if Maggie just stayed put she’d have nothing to worry about.
On the other hand
, a voice in her head whispered,
if you don’t fight her here, she’ll only show up somewhere else. Maybe at home.
Nope, couldn’t have that.

Besides, if she were going to have to fight demons and, oh, say, a Faery queen, she might as well get used to it. Waving one hand out in front of her, Maggie said, “After you.”

“Well, thank you. Courtesy is really a lost art these days, don’t you think?” The woman minced her way into the alley with tiny steps, moving carefully to avoid getting any grime on her spectacular taupe heels. “I remember when people actually said
hello
on the streets. Or held doors for you.” She glanced over her shoulder at Maggie and kept walking. “Good manners don’t cost a cent, you know.”

Hmm.
Emily Post for the demon set.

The alley was shadowed and smelled of rotting garbage and something else Maggie would just as soon not identify. Puddles of dark liquid ran down the length of the narrow passage, and she made a mental note not to fall down.

“This is just awful,” the woman said, turning to face Maggie. “Someone should call the city.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

“Oh, not at the moment, dear. I really think you should just save yourself the pain and give me the powers now. I’ve got my receptacle right here.” She lifted one arm to show Maggie a gold charm bracelet with a dangling gold ornament. When she flicked the clasp the bauble opened, ready and waiting to accept all Faery dust.

“I don’t think so. I’m going to be needing it, and besides, it’s
mine
.”

“Only because you killed Theodora,” the woman said, wagging a finger and
tsk
ing at her. “And really, Dora’s mate is just furious with you. Trust me when I say that surrendering your power to me is by far the better choice for you.”

Maggie sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “If it’s you or Dora’s husband taking the power, I’m still dead.”

“Well, yes. But I’ll be quick. He won’t be.”

Her stomach doing a quick spin, Maggie swallowed back the fear clawing its way into life inside her. She hadn’t asked for any of this, but here it was. The woman across from her, who could have been any well-dressed Junior Leaguer type, made a fast move and lunged at Maggie, those beautifully manicured nails up and aimed like ten sharp knives at her face.

“Hey! A little warning!” Maggie ducked beneath the woman’s claws and sprang up a couple of feet away.

“Why would I warn you, you stupid bitch? I’m trying to
kill
you.”

“Good manners?”

The demon grinned, and just for a second her human disguise fell away to reveal a dark complexion riddled with scars and open sores. Then her mask was back in place and she leaped again, this time trying to hook one arm around Maggie’s neck.

Moving just as quickly, Maggie spun around, swung one leg out and knocked the demon to the ground. The woman shrieked, and Maggie wasn’t sure if it was because she’d been thrown or because she’d landed in the muck. Didn’t really matter, she told herself, taking a deep breath, preparing to blow a stream of Faery dust at the woman’s eyes.

“Oh, no, you don’t. I want the dust, but I’ll take it my way.” Pushing Maggie over, the woman jumped on top of her, straddling Maggie’s midsection. One hand held the bauble up close to Maggie’s mouth; the other wrapped around her throat. “Now, as you die, the dust will fill the receptacle, and it’ll all be over.”