The Hob (The Gray Court 4) (19 page)

“Michaela.” Duncan gestured and Oberon followed, content to let the other man lead him to a quiet spot in the hotel’s bar. “It seems the Hob has found his truebond.”

“Indeed, and I fear for both of them.”

“Because of MacSweeney?” Duncan smiled sweetly at their waitress, earning himself a charming blush. “Coffee, please.”

“Pinot grigio. Please.” He waited until the waitress had left before answering. “I have no clue where the threat lies.” He leaned forward, hoping Duncan would see the dilemma he found himself in. “Shane says nothing can stop this Michaela’s death.”

Duncan’s skin flashed with silver sparkles before he got himself under control. “That would be bad.”

“More like catastrophic, but yes. More, I need Robin focused on the negotiations. Gloriana is beginning to agitate, wondering when her errant nephew will be returned to her.”

Duncan snorted. “I agree with Robin and Jaden. She’ll kill the boy. He’s been in Black Court hands too long.”

Oberon nodded. “If he’s untainted I will offer him sanctuary.” It was one of many reasons he’d agreed to come to Philadelphia.

“What do we do about Michaela?”

Put her under a glass jar until Robin could attend to her properly.
Oberon had no illusions. Until the bond had been established, Robin would be unable to leave Michaela’s side. No matter how he wished otherwise, his Hob’s loyalties were now divided.

For that, Oberon could cheerfully throttle the human.

“We protect her as best we can. Move her to the Palace if need be. For now, keep her under watch and protected at all costs.”

“Yes, sire. But first, allow me to contact Jaden to escort you to your room.”

“No need.” Oberon began to wave his hand in dismissal, but Duncan stopped him.

“There is more going on than the kidnapping of a prince, my liege. Please. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

He could not fault the Sidhe’s sincerity. “Very well. Contact your bondmate, then.”

The relief on Duncan’s face would have been comical had he not caught sight of the woman standing next to Duncan’s wife. Dark of hair and eye, she barely stood five feet tall. The most hideous orange and black butterfly wings graced her back. A pale green glow surrounded her, the mark of Robin obvious for any of Tuatha Dè blood to see.

The Hob had marked her as his, and may the gods help them all, Oberon would do his best to protect her.

Michaela darted past some pretty strange-looking fairies, praying none of them stepped on her gown. The dress had cost her a pretty penny, but it was so damn worth it. The moment she’d seen it, she’d fallen in love.

Hell, she wanted to be
married
in the thing.

Her A-line, princess-style gown was sleeveless, with intricate beading and crystals outlining the shirred waist and dotting the bust line. The skirt was also sprinkled with crystals and beads, making the mesh sparkle like raindrops on mist. When she’d described the color of the dress to Amanda, her friend had wrinkled her nose, wondering how lavender mesh over a pale mint green could work, but the effect was iridescent, and Michaela felt like she’d dressed in the ocean itself. The effect was beautiful and ethereal, and Michaela was in love. She felt like a modern-day Cinderella, down to her silver and crystal sandals and the tiara on her head. She had even found lavender- and mint-green wings that matched her dress perfectly and sprinkled them with silver glitter. She’d curled her long hair and swept it over one shoulder, keeping it loose and pretty. The only thing missing was jewelry, as she hadn’t found anything she liked before it was too late to order it.

If the guys she snowboarded with knew how much she’d spent on an outfit she’d only get to wear once, and not for her wedding, they’d laugh their asses off.

“Michaela.”

She shivered. She had no idea how to face him after that scorching kiss with Robin, but she had to. “Ringo.” She looked over at him and laughed, hoping it didn’t give away how nervous she was. “You look wonderful.”

“Do I?” He preened, fluffing out his dark tail, touching his ears to make sure they were still in place. He’d dressed in black fox ears and a tail, a black button down shirt and slacks. The black nails were a nice touch.

“Although I have to admit, I’m surprised you don’t have more than one tail.” Kitsune, Japanese fox spirits like the one Ringo had dressed as, only had one tail if they were very young. A Kitsune could have up to nine tails, signifying great age and wisdom.

One dark brow quirked upward. Something about his expression reminded her of Robin. “How many do you think I should have had?”

“Nine.” Odd. Her instincts told her that if Ringo really were a Kitsune, he’d be among the most powerful.

He smiled slowly. “Indeed.” He took her hand and placed it on his arm, his thumb caressing the back. “Shall we dance?”

She tilted her head back and put on her best haughty face. “Yes, we shall.”

He chuckled as he led her into the room.

“Oh, there’s Duncan.” She waved at Moira’s husband, smiling when he waved back.

“Would you like to sit with them?”

“You don’t mind?” She was already steering them that way, so she hoped not.

“No, not at all.”

She didn’t miss the slightly mocking edge to his tone, but she didn’t necessarily want to be alone with Ringo right now. Not when she was so loaded down with guilt.

She’d sort of cheated with Ringo by kissing Robin. Except they’d only had two dates, and hadn’t declared themselves exclusive. So it wasn’t really cheating, but it felt like it. On the other hand, Robin had mentioned that Ringo wouldn’t mind them being together. He spoke as if he knew Ringo very well, which meant she was breaking the number one dating rule: do not date the friend of the guy you’re dating. Unless they shared women the way Jaden and Duncan apparently did, which meant it might work out. Or they didn’t, which meant she was cheating, but she wasn’t, because they weren’t officially dating, and—

Gah. Now she was getting a headache. Maybe she should just hide in her room until the con was over and avoid them both. She snuck a peek at Ringo as he greeted Duncan, startled all over again at how she’d managed to attract the attention of someone so beautiful, both inside and out. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of red hair, and her heart nearly stopped. She nearly gave herself whiplash checking to see if it was Robin, but it was just some lady in a bright red wig and black wings. Her heart stuttered back to life and pounded mercilessly.

She was
so
doomed.

Ringo shook hands with Duncan. The blond had dressed as, of all things, Prince Charming, complete with a bejeweled plastic sword. It looked oddly appropriate on him. “Where are Jaden and Moira?”

“On the dance floor.” Duncan gestured, and Michaela laughed. Jaden was a demon on the dance floor, despite his green tights. He’d come as Peter Pan, complete with the red feather in his cap. But it was Moira who held everyone’s gaze. Dressed in a skin-tight, sequined Tinkerbell costume, the redhead commanded everyone’s attention as she gyrated around her tall, dark and handsome husband.

Duncan was shaking his head. “I told him he should have dressed as a Lost Boy, but Moira overrode me. She said if anyone was Peter Pan, it was Jaden.” He shrugged. “What could I say? She’s right.”

“Peter Pan
is
the ultimate Lost Boy. Besides, his ass looks fabulous in those tights.” Michaela blinked when she suddenly had the undivided attention of both men. “What?”

Duncan coughed, but it was obvious he was biting back a laugh. “Would you care to sit at our table?”

Michaela nodded before Ringo could respond.

“We’d be delighted.” Ringo helped her into a chair, but his hand tightened on her own. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, making butterflies dance in her stomach. “I
will
find out what has you so on edge today, my dear.”

She looked up at him, startled. He’d sounded exactly like Robin. Blazing blue eyes glared down at her before he turned away, answering some question of Duncan’s she hadn’t even heard.

What the
fuck
was going on? Maybe she was going crazy, because…

Because for just one second, he’d looked
exactly
like a dark-haired Robin Goodfellow.

“You need to be more careful.” Duncan sipped his drink as they watched Moira and Michaela dance around each other. Michaela looked like a true faery queen, delicate, ethereal and regal all at the same time. Right up until she started doing squat thrusts.

Robin started to laugh as Michaela and Moira began to bump their asses together.

Jaden, who’d gone for his own drink, returned and watched the women with a puzzled expression. “Robin? Why is my mate bumping uglies with your mate?”

“Jaden,” Duncan sighed.

“Is that supposed to be dancing? Or a new kind of martial art?”

Duncan grinned and put his arm around his mate. “Fae butt boxing?”

Jaden laughed and snuggled closer to Duncan, to the surprise of some of the party goers watching them. Robin had to admit, they made a striking couple, but they were stunning when Moira was with them. “My money’s on Moira. Sorry, Robin, but your bondmate is teeny.”

Robin shook his head. Michaela might be teeny, but she was mighty, as anyone who went up against her would discover.

“When will Robin make his appearance?”

Duncan might have looked nonchalant, but Robin could see the nerves building in the Sidhe as he watched the women. “Why do you ask?”

“McNeil is here, as is MacSweeney.” Duncan risked shooting Robin a glance. “Oberon is as well.”

“Bloody hell.” Robin thrust his drink at Jaden. “Guard the king. I’ll return anon.”

Robin stomped off, aware that, on his orders, his Blade had gone from happily cuddling with his mate to deadly predator. Robin ducked into the men’s room, relieved to find it empty. He stared in the mirror and allowed the change to flow over him. His scalp itched as his hair grew, turned bright red. His brown eyes went to sparkling blue. He pulled the ears and the tail off as his simple black outfit changed to his more traditional garb. The urge to show off for his mate was strong. Tight, white pants were tucked into blinding white leather boots with a black sole and heel. He added a matching white suit jacket over a black shirt, open at the neck, and a silver chain with the symbol of the Gray Court dangling from it. Robin allowed his eyes to go green and his black nails to grow to claws, knowing it would be both a warning and a threat to any who dared approach his truebond.

He left the tail and ears on the counter for any who wanted them. He would no longer need them. The charade of Ringo was, for the most part, done. If Oberon were here at the convention then, by damn, so officially was Robin Goodfellow.

Robin entered the ball and immediately scanned the area for Michaela. There she was, surrounded by three of the people he considered his, laughing and chatting as if she had not a care in the world.

He would see to it that she remained that carefree. He made his way to her side, slipping his arm around her waist. “Michaela, my dear.”

She jumped, her gaze darting around the room like a startled bird. “Robin. Hi.”

He almost laughed at the guilt in her expression. She didn’t hide it nearly as well as she thought she did. She must be looking for Ringo in the crowd, wondering when her other suitor would arrive and, no doubt, fight Robin for her.

It was amusing to watch her try and figure out how to wiggle her way out of this one. While Robin had no intention of letting her suffer, the knowledge that she was torn between his two personas tickled him greatly.

“Robin, you look stunning, as always.”

Robin bowed to Moira. “Why thank you. You look charming yourself.”

“Who are you dressed as?”

Robin caressed Michaela’s bare arm, careful of his claws. He had no desire to mar her soft flesh. “Why, Robin Goodfellow, of course.”

Moira grinned. “Of course.”

Jaden nudged him with his elbow, nearly dislodging Michaela from Robin’s grasp. “Warning, dickhead at three o’clock.”

Robin glared at Jaden before turning to see who Jaden was speaking of. “Raven.” He tilted his head in greeting at his erstwhile son.

Raven glanced at Robin’s arm around Michaela’s waist and smiled. “Michaela, you look enchanting this evening.” He picked up Michaela’s hand and pressed a kiss against her soft skin. “May I have this dance?”

As they’d just started a slow song, one meant to snuggle into your partner to, Robin thought not. “My apologies, Raven. This dance is already promised to me.” Robin swept Michaela onto the dance floor and pulled her close. The scent of her, the feel of her soft skin, the strength in her supple waist, filled his senses to damn near overflowing. He forgot all about McNeil, Raven, even Oberon, as the wonder of finally holding his truebond, acknowledging his claim to her in public, filled him with peace the likes of which he’d never known before.

“Um, Robin?”

“Yes, my dear?” Robin lifted the tiara from her curls and nuzzled his cheek against her hair, rubbing his scent on her like a cat.