Cruel Enchantment (43 page)

Then she stood back and took a critical appraisal of her clothing. She’d thrown on a white button-down shirt, a plaid cardigan, and a pair of black pants. Frowning, she saw the top two buttons of her shirt were undone. She corrected them, put her glasses back on, and gave herself a critical head-to-toe sweep. Marginally better.

She gave her shirt one last downward tug to settle it more smoothly in place and smiled at herself in the mirror to practice for the meeting. Her face was not deathly pale, her skin was good; her teeth were great; and although her glasses hid them somewhat today, she had very nice eyes. More important, she was intelligent.

Grabbing her makeup bag from the counter, she turned to leave the bathroom.

She stopped short, her entire body going cold. The voice of her dream man again. At work. In the bathroom. Oh, hell, she was going insane.

Charlotte, come to me.
Images flashed through her mind. An airplane ticket, destination Protection City, Carolina. A flash of heavy, tall gates—the gates of Piefferburg, if she wasn’t mistaken. She’d only ever caught glimpses of
Faemous
on TV, but she thought she recognized the gates.

With the flashing images came a nearly irresistible compulsion to leave work
right now
. Drive to the airport
right now
. Buy a ticket to Protection City
right now
. All of a sudden she
had
to get to Piefferburg, no matter what. Dropping her makeup bag onto the floor since it no longer mattered—nothing except getting to Piefferburg mattered—she went for the bathroom door. If she hurried, she could make it to Protection City by evening.

“Wait a minute!” She stopped cold with her fingers wrapped around the door handle, and then yanked her hand away, scrubbing it on her pants as though she could wipe the germs off. Ugh, she never touched door handles.

What was she doing? She couldn’t leave; she had a presentation to give. Anyway, she had no reason to drop everything and fly to Protection City, Carolina. Even less reason to go to Piefferburg.

The fae?
No way
.

She wanted no part of them. Dangerous, dirty creatures. They were right where they belonged and she had no wish to consort with them. She was quite happy to live all the way across the country from that zoo and nothing was going to force her there.

Still, the compulsion lingered. She gritted her teeth and furrowed her brow, fighting it. It eased a little and she sagged against the door. What was wrong with her? It had to be the dream she’d had. It must’ve jarred something loose in her subconscious that she hadn’t known she needed to deal with. Find the root of the problem, address it, and she’d be able to continue with her job. She just needed a little time to sit down and think, analyze the situation. Unfortunately she wasn’t going to get that, not right now.

Feeling suddenly sick, she backed away from the door and leaned down to pick up her makeup bag. Just then Erica, one of her colleagues, came into the bathroom.

“Oh, my gosh, Charlotte, are you all right?” Erica breathed, her blue eyes wide. “You look like you’re about to vomit.”

She glanced into the mirror. Her face had taken on a distinctly greenish hue and she was covered in a light coating of sweat. Lovely. She blinked rapidly, searching for a response.

Compulsion filled her once again. The only thing that kept her from bolting for the door was her willpower. She bowed her head, closed her eyes, and grabbed the edge of the bathroom counter to stop herself from complying with the mystery man’s wishes.

“Charlotte? Should I call someone? Are you all right?”

Come now
.

Charlotte forced her eyes open and returned Erica’s panicked stare. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Erica’s frown deepened and she shook her head. “You really don’t look good. You should go home, Charlotte.” She entered one of the stalls.

Go home? In the middle of the day? She’d never done that in her entire life, but maybe she really was sick. She touched her forehead and found it warm and feverish.

Letting go of the counter and not bothering with her makeup bag, she lunged for the door and raced all the way back to her cubicle. Her watch showed it was exactly one-twenty. Past time to get to the conference room. Scooping her papers into her arms, she raced across the office toward her destination.

Strong compulsion filled her. She fought it, but this time nothing stemmed the tide of
must
. Ten times stronger than what she’d felt in the bathroom, there was no denying this. Right outside the double doors of the conference room, she dropped all her files.

Leave. Yes, that’s exactly what she should do. Harvey could give the presentation solo. She needed to get to Piefferburg right now.

The heavy wooden doors of the conference room opened and Harvey stuck his head out, surveying the mess of paper on the floor and then looking up at her. “Charlotte?”

“I need to leave. I’m so sorry, Harvey.” She turned and fled.

Stopping only long enough to grab her purse, she went to her car and drove immediately to the airport. In her head shouted the refrain,
What am I doing?
Yet she was completely unable to stop herself from handing over her credit card to the clerk at the Transnational Airlines service desk for a seat on the next flight to Protection City.

The lady behind the counter looked up at her with a bland smile on her face. “Do you have any luggage to check?”

She glanced down at her side as if a suitcase had magically appeared there. “No.” She had nothing with her. No extra clothing, no toiletries. She’d even left her vitamins behind, drat it all. This was obviously fae magick of some kind. The prospect terrified her almost as much as it angered her. What if she’d had a critical prescription she needed to take? What if she’d had a pet at home? Or kids!

The lady gave her the boarding pass and soon Charlotte passed through security and reached her gate. She collapsed into a chair and stared at the waiting plane, every fiber of her being straining to get on it
now
so she could get to Piefferburg
now
.

Her father would kill her if he knew what she was doing. Whether or not she was under some magickal fae mind control, her father would skin her alive. Her family had a dark and sordid history with the fae and she’d been fed stories about their treachery since she was a child. “Never consort with the fae,” her father had warned her. “Stay away from Piefferburg at all costs,” he’d said. “Don’t be seduced by the glittering images that
Faemous
feeds the public. The fae are bad. Evil.”

“The only good fae is a dead fae” had been a familiar utterance in her home.

She glowered at the airplane. She had no idea what was going on here, but once she found out, there was going to be hell to pay. Of course, that was mostly the fear talking. She knew she lacked the ability to bring hell to a fae. The weakest one was twenty times more powerful than she was.

And this man was powerful indeed.

Her mind strayed back to the dream. At the time she’d thought it had been a lucid dream, harmless. She’d played out all her fantasies with that luscious man. Now it turned out . . .

Oh, hell. The realization slammed into her.

That had never been an innocent dream and the man she’d committed all those erotic acts with was probably real. He had to be the one holding her leash at the moment, the one he was yanking so forcefully.

Her hand drifted to the collar of her shirt. The things she’d done in that dream . . .

A man swathed in the traditional attire of the Phaendir sat down across from her. Many of the magickal sect of druids wore ordinary clothing: dark suits, dress pants, polo shirts. Usually you couldn’t tell a Phaendir from an ordinary man, but this one wore the heavy brown robes of a monk.

Still holding the collar of her shirt, she gave him a tentative smile, which he returned with a stern look. Almost as if to say he knew what she’d done last night.

She slid down into her chair and looked away from him.

The Phaendir were always male and most of them were big and imposing. And don’t forget the powerful magick. Magick enough to keep all the fae of the world imprisoned. They deserved everyone’s utmost respect and were not to be trifled with.

Except she was about to both disrespect and trifle with them.

How was she supposed to get permission to be admitted into Piefferburg? It used to be that any human could enter at their own risk, but now that Gideon Amberdoyle had become Archdirector, every human needed to be approved.

She blinked several times. “Excuse me?”

The Phaendir looked at her sharply, his eyes narrowing. The action reminded her of a hawk that had just caught sight of a juicy mouse.

Her mind whirled for a moment. She chewed her lip. Finally, she tried it.
You’re real?

Oh, God.
You’re fae?

Pause.

She went silent for a minute, processing everything and trying very hard not to freak out in front of the brother.

She forced herself not to react physically to his words.
Two weeks? I can’t be gone from my job for two weeks. Anyway, the Phaendir will check my story and discover I’m lying.

What was that supposed to mean?
What’s going on?

Pause.

Are you going to hurt me?
There was no reply for several moments.

We have no plans to hurt you
. That was not exactly a comforting answer.

I hate you with all that I am.
Even in her mind, her voice shook with emotion.

Silence.

 

 

BROTHER
Gideon Amberdoyle stared across his desk at Charlotte with his watery brown eyes. Slight of build and average in height, Mr. Amberdoyle was hardly the imposing figure his position might lead someone to believe him to be. In fact, he was far slighter in physical stature than the majority of his Phaendir brethren. With his thinning hair and cheap gray suit, he put Charlotte more in the mind of a car salesman than the leader of the Phaendir, the most powerful group of individuals in the world.

Still, just being in the same room with him choked her up. It was better than meeting the president. “I can’t even tell you what an honor it is to meet you,” she gushed at him for the third time since she’d sat down.

He smiled a little, but it was cold and his eyes flashed for a moment when he did it. Her smile went flat. Ah, so there was strength behind the unassuming visage. “You seem to be an awfully big fan of the Phaendir, Miss Bennett.”

“I am. My whole family is very grateful to the Phaendir. I’m not sure my father’s line would have survived if the Phaendir hadn’t stepped in during the fifteen hundreds and created Piefferburg. In fact, I might not even be sitting here if you hadn’t imprisoned the fae.”

“Yes.” He glanced at a file on his desk. “Your family has had intimate dealings with the fae throughout the centuries, not all of them very pleasant.”

“None of them pleasant, according to my father and grandfather.” She shuddered and looked down into her lap. “Believe me when I say I’m not looking forward to spending time among them.” She hadn’t lied yet, but it was coming. The magickal compulsion lay as heavily on her will as it had since yesterday.

Brother Gideon smiled his hard little smile again and leaned toward her from behind his desk. “That’s why I find your request so odd. Why would someone with a history like yours take an assignment that put her in Piefferburg City for two whole weeks? Why didn’t you request that your accounting firm send someone in your place?”

The wave of compulsion was so strong that when she opened her mouth to tell Gideon the absolute truth, no words came out, only little puffs of air.

Brother Gideon’s eyes narrowed.

“Sorry, I’m a little overwhelmed.” She blinked a few times and smiled. “I don’t like it, but it’s my job and I’m looking to be promoted. I couldn’t turn this assignment down, not at this point in my career. You can call my boss if you’re suspicious of my intentions.” She opened her purse, extracted one of her business cards and handed it to him over the desk.

She hoped he called. Her boss would tell him the truth—he had never assigned her any such special project—and she could get out of this mess somehow. Even if it meant she went to jail or the loony bin, anything was better than Piefferburg.

He took the card, stared at it for a moment and set it aside. As he moved, she noticed the thick, white mottled skin peeking from his cuffs. Scar tissue, it looked like. Charlotte knew that the most pious of the Phaendir self-flagellated. Apparently this man was really into it.

Licking his thin lips, he steepled his fingers on his desk and raised his gaze to hers. “I can see no possible ulterior motive for your entrance into Piefferburg, Miss Bennett. I’m satisfied after performing a very thorough background check that you have no sympathies with the HFF.”