Netherby Halls (30 page)

Guilt suddenly flooded through her. She shouldn’t
have left her mother like that. But what could she do? She would
make it up to her tomorrow. Besides, she was a college grad. She
was twenty-one. She was all grown up.

Over the years Ravena had heard her mother refer to
her marriage to her father, Daniel MacAllister, as a mistake, and
she hated hearing that. It negated all the good.

She was so much more her father’s child than her
mother’s. An odd thing to admit even to herself but so true.

For the hundredth time she thought about changing her
plans once more and just heading off to Scotland for the
summer—maybe making a side trip and visiting with her grandmother,
her father’s Canadian Indian mother, first.

She took a long gulp of air and bolstered herself.
Todd was a great guy. She was doing the right thing—
wasn’t
she?
He had committed himself to her in so many ways. He talked
about the future. It was what she wanted, wasn’t it—a normal
future?
Did she want a future with him? Was she making the same
mistake her mother had made—settling for someone who made her
comfortable? Because to date, he damn well did not make her
feel … passionate!
The sorry truth was that no one ever
had … yet.

Well, that would change tonight—wouldn’t it? She
turned the corner, pulled into the lot adjacent to Todd’s apartment
house complex, and parked. Princeton was a charming university
town, and students were everywhere. Two acquaintances waved to her
as she got out of her car and headed for the building.

She reached his door, key in hand, and hesitated. She
had never used the key before. She was here unannounced. Should she
use the key?
Don’t be silly—he gave it to me to use.
She put
the key in the lock, opened the door, and stepped into the small,
sparsely furnished living room.

She froze.

Todd and her best friend, Meg, were on the small shag
rug on the living room floor, grunting and going at it with wild
abandon.

Todd must have felt a draft on his bare butt, for he
suddenly turned, saw her, and started scrambling to his feet.
“Rave … Rave … no … this …
this is
nothing
 … Rave!” he shouted as he threw his clothing on
hastily.

Too late
—so few letters, such small words,
such large meaning. Too late.

Ravena backed up clumsily until she hit the closed
door at her back. She turned then, opened the door, and with shock
and hurt flooding through her veins,
she ran.

Through Time-Pursuit

~ Prologue ~

Present day

ALL AT ONCE—he was on her! The Dark Prince Pestale
had the death sword across her throat, and if her brother moved
another step toward her, it would only end in getting her
killed.

Chancemont LeBlanc stood rigid and filled with fear
for his young sibling, Lana.

And then, right before his eyes, the Dark Prince,
grinning all the while, slit young sweet Lana’s throat, and she was
forever lost to them.

Thunder rolled through his body then—rolled through
it still. His sword vibrated in his hands, feeling his need.

He wanted blood—the Dark Prince’s blood,
and he
wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything else in his
life.

Fury took over his despair and buried the pain of
grief with the hope that he would soon have the Dark Prince in his
grip and torture him before he put an end to the Dark Fae’s
miserable existence. Sorrow—deep, haunting sorrow filtered through
to his heart and blinded him with the all-consuming need to avenge
his young sister’s death. Guilt shouted out his faults and blamed
him for her death
—but guilt was a waste of time
. He replaced
that guilt with purpose and became centered in his goals.

Find Pestale, capture Pestale
, and drag him to
Dravo, where he and his father could inflict pain and punishment on
him before putting him out for the buzzards to feed upon.

Thoughts of his father off alone and mourning in
silence made him cringe. His father would never get over this loss.
He was the Milesian leader, Morgan LeBlanc, a big man that his
people on Dravo relied upon.

His da—who he could have passed as his brother, so
young was he in appearance—was lost to drink and self-inflicted
solitude. Who could blame him?

His da, who had always been a force in Chance’s life,
was broken by this final loss. And rage filled Chance as he made
his plans. Milesians were an immortal race—not born that way, but
created by the dust from the Fae World of Danu when that world was
destroyed. The dust had come through the portal that brought the
Fae to the human realm.

Now, their joint loss of Lana would hurt them through
eternity.

She was the only daughter, a reminder of the great
love his father had for Chance’s mother, lost so long ago. Sweet
Lana, his bright-eyed baby sister who had not yet reached maturity,
with her entire immortal life ahead of her—
until
Pestale
.

Revenge
? Someone once told him revenge could
be sweet. He wasn’t certain that was true, but he shouted to the
winds, “Revenge canna bring back her laughing eyes, or her dear
voice …” His own voice trailed off, because he needed revenge,
for without it—without revenge—he could not attain justice. To
Chance the two walked a straight and parallel line.

His father had stopped drinking when he realized what
Chance was going to do. He had grabbed him by his shoulders and
shook him. “Do ye think I can lose another? Doona go,
Chance …”

“Da, he must not be allowed to live.”

“Chance, me own best hope … doona go …”

It had nearly stayed him, the distress on his
father’s face, but the need to avenge his sister’s murder was
greater. “I must, Da, ye know that.”

His father had sighed with acceptance and had talked
to him for hours. He told him to be cool-headed in his pursuit. He
said with tears in his eyes that revenge and justice were two
different things.

Are they?
Chance asked the sky, “Are they
different? I doona have the answer to that, but I do have my
immortal skills, m’magic, and my death sword. It will take all
those things to find the devil, and to lay hands on him. He is a
Dark Fae Prince, the eldest of his brothers—the most cunning of
them all,
and I will have his blood
,” he vowed to the
heavens and himself.

Two days had passed since they had lost Lana to
Pestale’s death weapon. Two days since they fought beside the
Seelie Fae to bring down Gaiscioch and the Dark monsters. Two days,
and Pestale remained alive.

Chance’s thoughts were violent as he spoke to Pestale
as though he were there. “
There is nowhere ye can outrun me
.
I will track ye to the ends of the earth, and beyond if necessary.
I have shouted it to the heavens
, I am Chancemont LeBlanc,
and I shall have yer filthy Dark Fae blood!”

Young Seelie Prince Trevor had joined him in this
mission, and they would soon make tracks. He couldn’t deny the
Seelie Fae his place with him, because of Lana’s memory. How he had
objected to her little romance with the Fae prince, in no small
part because Trevor was the younger brother of Prince Dante. Chance
and Dante had fought on opposite sides of the war thousands of
years ago, and though Fae and Milesians were no longer enemies and
had in fact joined forces recently against the Dark Fae, Chance
held no love for his former foe and no wish to see his sister
falling for a member of the Royal House of Lugh, Dante’s brother no
less! Now he wished she were with him … flirting up the lad
once again.
Och,
but he could hear her laugh …

He berated himself. If only he had kept Lana on
Dravo … in chains—it would have taken chains to keep her from
the fight, for she had been too headstrong to listen. He should
have foreseen this; he should have spelled her home.

The war with Gaiscioch was over. The Human Realm was
safe for the time being. The two remaining Dark Princes had been
returned to the Dark Realm, where they would forever remain
imprisoned with Queen Morrigu.

Gaiscioch was dead—his evil but a recent memory—but
Pestale had escaped and was somewhere in the human realm.

It rode him hard and drew blood that Pestale was
free! Chancemont’s determination went beyond purpose, beyond
thought, and took him to a place where all he knew was his need for
justice.

So then, Chance had become a hunter.

He would capture the evil prince, and he would make
his demands before he put him out of his misery—for he would keep
him there, begging for death until he said Lana’s name.

And so it began.

~ One ~

“ROYCE!”

“Trevor!” She turned and tried smiling in spite of
what she knew she was about to face on the other side of the door
she had her hand raised to. Trevor was one of her closest friends.
“What are you doing?”

“Long story—but I guess you know about … about
Lana,” he said grimly.

“My brother told me, and I am so sorry …” She
watched as his jaw stiffened and his face suddenly looked older. He
must have fallen hard for Lana LeBlanc.

She reached out and petted his arm but said no more.
She didn’t think he needed words. He gave her a crooked smile and
sighed heavily. “I am off to meet with Chance, and then we will
find the devil …”

“Yes, Trev, but I heard that he is the oldest of the
Dark Princes and very cunning—
you watch your back
,” she
cautioned, recalling an incident where he had been braver than he
had been wise. She touched his face. “Trev … he can move in
and kill you with the same sword he used on …” She didn’t want
to say the name and see the pain in his eyes and quickly changed
her warning. “He is ruthless, and you are not.”

“He may be cunning and ruthless, but I am a Seelie
Prince of the House of Lugh. Danté taught me everything I need to
know, and what he didn’t teach me, Breslyn did. You can rest
assured that I am totally equipped as a Tracker and a warrior,” he
said with a superior tone.

This pronouncement made Princess Royce laugh. “You
are pretty darn proud of yourself,” she said affectionately and was
pleased to see him crack a genuine smile.

“Sounded pompous, huh?”

She made a show with her thumb and forefinger. “Just
a little … but I know, if anyone can do it, Trev, you
can.”

He patted her on the shoulder. “Thanks and good luck,
yourself.” He indicated Queen Aaibhe’s chamber with his chin. “I
heard you’ve been called on the carpet again, for your
wayward
ways
.” he smiled and shook his head. “You know, she once sent
Breslyn into the middle of the ocean floor and took away all his
powers …” His eyes teased, and he flicked a long tress of
bright red hair before her eyes.

She pushed her hair out of her face and touched him,
for she was genuinely worried this time. She knew he would not
totally understand; Trevor did not care for humans. However, he
would sympathize with her all the same. Instead, he released a bark
of laughter.

“Don’t worry … she probably goes easier on her
princesses.”

“Not this time …” Royce sighed. “I didn’t just
bend the rules, Trev—I exploded them.”

“I heard,” he said softly and then added as he
twirled another strand of her long hair and flung it across her
nose, “It’s okay, Red—you couldn’t help it. Don’t know why these
humans draw you in so completely, but she knows your state of mind
is compassionate, and as wild as your fiery disposition, so don’t
worry, she won’t banish you.”

He smiled and shifted off, and Royce took a long drag
of air and blew it out slowly. She entered the queen’s chambers,
and
there she was
—Aaibhe, Queen of the Seelie Fae.

The queen held her fingers pyramided, and she looked
to Royce like she was … what? Royce couldn’t tell. She tried
to see what those brilliant, iridescent eyes held—controlled fury?
No—was it disappointment
? No
 … ah,
determination
. The queen had most certainly made up her mind
to handle the situation differently than she had in the past.
Uh
oh—trouble,
Royce thought as she closed and then reopened her
eyes. At least she’d remembered to change her jeans and T for a
pretty blue silk dress and had blinked her hair into a thin gold
band that held up the long strands on the top of her head in the
style she knew the queen preferred.

The queen smiled softly, patted the chair next to her
own, and said softly, “Sit, my Princess, and do not
hesitate—
explain yourself
.”

“My Queen,” Royce started to say as she sat. “First,
allow me to point out that the child wasn’t dying. Hence, it wasn’t
as though I was bringing him back to life …” The words she had
just blurted sounded absurd even to her, but it was the truth, at
least as she saw matters. She immediately observed the queen’s
reaction and stopped any other words that wanted to tumble from her
lips. Instead, she folded her hands together in her lap and tried
again, more calmly. “What I am trying to say, Queen Aaibhe is this:
I did not really infringe on the path of destiny … and even if
I did a little, it was totally necessary because he would not have
been in that awful and unacceptable situation—well, it was in
essence, our fault, wasn’t it … I mean …”

“
Our fault?”
The Queen of the Seelie Fae
raised her lovely brow and interrupted. “How so?”

“The Dark Fae escaped because we couldn’t stop them
from doing so. One of those sinister monsters chased young David,
reached for him, and the child stepped backwards into the street.
He was hit by a car and would have been paralyzed for the rest of
his life. Our fault.”