Cassandra's Dilemma (2 page)

Chapter One

The antiseptic smell irritated her nostrils. Grit in her eyes burned. It took Cassie a moment to realize her eyes were actually open. Light, sound, and motion met her gaze. A stranger leaned down close enough she could smell the coffee on his breath. The swarthy-skinned stranger with kind eyes seemed to be telling her something, but despite the fact that his lips were moving, she didn’t hear anything.

Cassie tried to turn her head but couldn’t. She pulled her hand up to touch her face, but the doctor captured her hand and pressed it back down. Doctor. She recognized the white coat and the blue scrubs. Cassie congratulated herself on figuring out who the stranger was, but that left her puzzling about the rest. Her stomach lurched as they halted abruptly. Hands lifted her prone body up, and blackness swamped her.

* * * *

“You’ll have to wait outside.” The woman’s quiet, authoritative voice pressed against Cassie’s consciousness, but she rebelled against opening her eyes.

“I understand. Thank you.” The deeper, warmer voice slid around her and seemed to snuggle close. Cassie liked the second voice. She wanted to open her eyes so she could tell the voice that no, it didn’t have to go and wait outside. Thankfully, the voice thought the same thing she did, because he spoke again when she couldn’t get her eyes open. “Yes, I am waiting outside. So you are free to attend to your work.”

Really? Isn’t he still standing here?

“Good. Patients don’t need to be disturbed. The police want to talk to Ms. Belle as soon as she wakes up. Visiting hours are…” The woman’s voice faded away.

She didn’t care what the police wanted, and she didn’t care about the visiting hours. She just wanted to go back to that quiet, dark place with the lovely voice.

Visiting hours.

Police.

Billy!

Her eyes sprung open.

Opening her eyes hurt. She couldn’t help the small groan that escaped. The room seemed fuzzy on the edges and blurry. The air tasted a little too sweet, and she could feel the pressure of the nasal tubes. A machine beeped frantically somewhere to her right, and the noise scraped her nerves like a rusty grater. She tried to form a word, but her parched throat managed only a weak squawk.

She closed her eyes and opened them again, but the room blurred more instead of sharpening. A muscle twitched at the corner of her right eye, and then a hand was touching her neck, lifting her head slightly, and a straw was pressed to her lips.

“Drink,” the beautiful, kind voice murmured.

She sipped obediently and could have cried as the cool dampness wetted her throat. A dozen other aches spoke up in protest as her throat soothed, but she ignored them and took another drink.

“Careful,” the voice rebuked. “You have suffered some trauma, and too much could make you ill.”

“’ha happened?” Cassie asked carefully around her thick tongue.
Was that really my voice?
It sounded so low and gravelly, like rocks being tumbled together.

“An explosion in Grant Park. The Danae wishes to discuss this matter with you, preferably before you speak to your human police. Are you up for a journey?”

Cassie tried desperately to focus on the kind voice, but his features blurred. She could barely make out dark hair, an angular face, and tall. He seemed very, very tall. Most of the Fae she’d met were tall. But she was lying flat on her back, so what did she know?

“Billy?” Even as she asked the question, she knew the answer.

“Your assistant died in the detonation. Nothing remains.” Sorrow echoed beneath the hollow words.

A dry sob caught in her throat, and Cassie’s chest hurt. It hurt to breath. It hurt to talk. It hurt to feel. Billy was a good kid. He was a good friend and…“Bomb? There was a bomb! There was heat, and it knocked me down.”

“Yes, you were close to the edge. You took the first concussive force. A table of some kind absorbed the rest of the damage. The Danae wishes to speak to you. Are you up for the journey?”

He’d asked that before. The Danae. The Fae Queen. Cassie’s client. Of course, she wanted to see her now.

“I know you.”

“Yes, Cassandra. I am called Helcyon. When we heard of the attack, the Danae sent me to watch over you. If you are ready, I can take you over, and we will attend your wounds while you speak to the Danae.”

“Of course.” Cassie tried to think, but her memory of the moments around the explosion was fragmented and painful. She kept seeing Billy’s face as he gave her the thumbs-up.

Thumbs-up.

Boom.

“The hospital staff?”

“Will know nothing.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she tried not to flinch. The contact hurt. “Close your eyes.”

They shifted together. Her stomach dropped out as the world took a distinct right twist. She kept her eyes firmly closed, pressing her face against the hard wall of muscle that made up his chest. He carried her now. She didn’t recall him lifting her out of the hospital bed, but the shift to Underhill was not a pleasant experience worth remembering that much.

“Deep breaths,” he advised.

“I won’t puke on you,” Cassie promised. It had been an open joke amongst the Fae she encountered that she vomited all over the poor agent who shifted her over the first time. The second dodged quicker, and the third provided a pail.

His laughter rumbled gently against her ear, and she heard a lighter note in his voice. “Thank you, Cassandra. Are you ready to move?”

Helcyon had stood still since the shift, probably to make sure if Cassie started throwing up, he could point her face elsewhere. The silkiness of his black shirt was warm and soft against her cheek. It would be a real shame to throw up on it.

“I think so. I want to sleep.”

“Then rest. I am taking you to our healers first as the Danae commands.”

“Sweet.” Cassie snuggled her face against him. Warm cinnamon, nutmeg, and just a whiff of vanilla.
God, he smells like a warm Christmas cookie on a cold, snowy day.

Cool hands brushed her dry, stiff face, and relief followed. She went from feeling miserable and pained to sighing as clenched muscles released and bruises faded. The scorched skin of her face remained sensitive, but when she opened her eyes to gaze up at the furred face of a Brownie above hers, she didn’t feel stretched so thin.

Large, uncompromisingly brown eyes met hers and blinked slowly. The face reminded Cassie very much of an oversized Teddy Ruxpin, but she knew the Brownie would not appreciate the comparison. The furred face ended in a black snub nose. The nose quivered faintly as Cassie watched, and then the head bobbed. Like Helcyon, the Brownie was one of the many Fae, a term Cassie learned was as homogenous as American and covered many different types of people.

“You wake. This is good. The Danae will speak to you. Dress and I will send for Helcyon.” The clipped language of the Brownie delighted Cassie as she could hear faint overtones of British accent. Brownies originated on the British Isle, but Cassie would need her notes to reference the exact “where.”

She sat up experimentally and released a shaky breath. The earlier aches and pains were gone. She rolled her head around to loosen the stiff muscles. She pushed away the loose hair falling over her eyes and swung her legs over to stand.

And there he is.

At five feet six inches, Cassie understood that she was definitely not the tallest kid in the class, but Helcyon towered over her. Her heart thumped against her chest. He looked every inch the Danae’s Warrior, from thick arms to broad shoulders to aquiline features and a powerful jaw.

Her face warmed as she gave him the once-over, appreciably taking note of all the features she could barely make out before. When her eyes met his, he snapped his heels together and gave her a graceful, if curt, bow.

“Cassandra. I bid you welcome to Underhill. The Danae awaits.” His voice shivered over her skin exactly as she remembered it, warm, embracing, and sliding around her snugger than a television-advertised blanket.

Aware of her hospital gown, Cassie looked down at herself with a grimace of faint distaste. “I don’t think we remembered my things.”

“No worries. The Danae understands your condition and that you will need to return to the human hospital.” Helcyon held out an arm. “If you are ready, the Danae awaits in the next chamber.” His tone made it clear that they shouldn’t delay.

“She’s not in the throne room?” Cassie pushed her fingers through her hair, at once wishing for a mirror and being glad none was available. Despite only a handful of visits to Underhill, she was used to the etiquette and protocol, even if she couldn’t get the layout down. The Danae’s audience throne room, located in the very center of Underhill, offered the right mixture of solemnity and pageantry for formal meetings with her royal personage.

“Time is of the essence, Cassandra.” His tone was gentle, despite the rebuke feathering the words.

The soft, thick grass seemed to swallow her feet as she stepped down onto the floor. The gray, stone walls and modern furniture offered a mixture of contrasts both alien and familiar. She didn’t ask for shoes because as a guest of Underhill, her feet would be protected. During her first visit, a stone path appeared across one of the meadowed areas. When she’d expressed surprise, the guide merely indicated that her high heels made walking across a field impractical and unsafe, thus the stone path.

Helcyon put a hand on her arm, steadying her as the room spun. It settled, and Cassie pulled her arm away, determined to stand on her own. He said nothing, but a smile flirted around the corners of his mouth. Most of the Fae seemed fascinated by her disinterest in their more courtly manners.

He merely cocked his head, probably wondering if she was up for the walk. On every occasion he’d been present, he’d watched her with enigmatic eyes and a half-formed smile. If he were human, she’d have thought he was flirting. But she was still learning to read Fae.

She combed her fingers through her hair once more and nodded for Helcyon to lead the way. The Brownie patted her arm as Cassie followed Helcyon out. Before Cassie could thank her, the room’s furniture faded away, replaced by trees and a tire swing.

The corridor they entered seemed narrow but gradually widened, allowing them to walk two abreast comfortably. They only moved a couple of dozen steps when Helcyon paused at a pair of large wooden doors. He pushed the doors inward and bowed. In all her life, Cassie didn’t think she could ever have done that with such boneless, natural grace.

“Ms. Belle, Your Majesty,” Helcyon’s deep, dark-chocolate voice announced, and Cassie got a brief blur of red, yellow, and orange before she was caught up in an embrace that nearly lifted her off the floor.

“Cassie! I was so worried!” The young woman who leaned back from the hug smelled of rich vanilla, orchids, and a hint of sage. Her eyes flashed from green to blue to brown then back to green again. Thick, blonde hair hung free and shimmered with the lights in the room. She lacked ornamentation and certainly didn’t need it. Her nose wrinkled and her lips puckered as she assessed Cassie critically. “You look terrible. The Brownies were going to heal you.”

“They did. They did. I just came straight from the hospital.” Cassie resisted the urge to smooth down the hospital gown, wishing suddenly that she’d pressed Helcyon to find her real clothes before the audience. “I probably need to brush my hair.”

“Hmm, and your teeth, too. Were you always this red-skinned? I thought you were paler, and your freckles seem to have gotten smaller.” The Danae’s casual manner was uncomfortably unfamiliar. Every other encounter had been held to such a high standard of protocol.

“She was burned, Your Majesty.” Helcyon slipped from behind Cassie, softening his words with another bow toward the vivid blonde who bounced and rocked on her heels in front of them. “Leitha assures that the redness will fade, but it is from swift healing.”