Tressa's Treasures (The King's Jewel Book 1) (10 page)

"You seemed genuinely surprised when I showed up for dinner that first night, but I need to ask. Did you have anything to do with helping Órlaith get me here?"

"I'm not sure of your meaning, but rest assured, you were a surprise."

"So you don't know the real reason she hired me?"

What
were
Mamó's intentions? It was a good question. Clearly she had a purpose in this. She wanted Alexander to stay and search for River Rock, which should be impossible to find here. Yet he had found some, and quite easily at that.

I hesitated as I searched for something to say that might help. However, my hesitation only served to bristle his already jagged nerves. He pushed forcefully off the mantle and spun around to face me.

"You do know what she's up to."

I sighed. Nothing clever had come to me, so I simply answered honestly.

"Truly, I don't understand what she's doing. She wouldn't tell me either."

"But you know something."

I knew that I wanted him to stay... but I also wanted him to go. I took a rare few seconds to glance directly into his dark eyes. In the space of those seconds, I had the overwhelming urge to tell him everything. I took several quick swallows to bring my emotions under control.

He sat and turned his body toward me, resting his knees against mine. He covered my hands with his.

"Tressa." He spoke gently now. "There is something odd about this place. About the people on this estate. Something odd, yet oddly familiar. I don't understand what it means. Won't you please tell me?"

His deep, throaty voice and the touch of his skin on mine was a seduction stronger than any Sidhe song, compelling me to open myself to him. I leapt from the settee to break the spell, stumbling a step or two before I steadied myself.

"Alexander, I wish I could answer your questions, but you need to trust me when I say that knowing too much about us will put you in the path of a danger you can't possibly understand. You don't want to get tangled up with us."

He stood, growling his frustration as he grabbed my upper arms and pressed them tight against my body. I felt myself melting under his touch.

"I'm already tangled up in this—whatever it is. My mother wanted me here for a reason, and I'm not leaving until I understand why." He lowered his face close to mine, forcing me to look him in the eye.

"Tell me who you are. For me? For Sophia? Tressa, tell me what's going on here,” he whispered.

For one tantalizing moment I thought he would kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me. If he did, I would be defenseless against his pleas. I held my breath, but in his moment of hesitation I gained enough control to pull gently away from him.

"Find whatever my grandmother has you hunting for and then take you and your daughter as far from here as possible. It's far too dangerous for you to get too close to me."

I went back to the kitchen after he left, intent on finishing my salad. First, I heated a cup of water to make tea, hoping it might help the dull headache developing behind my eyes. My heart throbbed in my ears, but nothing would help that.

I finished slicing the tomato and thought about Pine Ridge. My little piece of the world, which had seemed so safe just a few short weeks ago, now seemed absurdly dangerous when I considered becoming involved with Alexander.

It was no exaggeration to say it could mean his life. Deaglan Mór and his Unseelie rebels hunted for me and they didn't care who they had to go through to get to me: in fact they enjoyed hurting those closest to their enemies. Three of my dearest friends had already been murdered because of me.

I tossed the tomato slices onto of a bed of lettuce. I peeled and sliced half of a cucumber and added it as well.

Alexander was part fae. I hadn't previously allowed myself to think of him in that way. However, to my kin, half human was human. They didn't consider anyone part fae. You were either fae, or you weren't.

His mother came to live here among the humans, apparently seeking solace in much the same way as I had two years ago. Alexander's existence was proof she had found her
Anam Cara
, her Soul Mate, in his father. A Sidhe with her Soul Mate and a child of her own. What could have compelled her to leave them? It didn't seem possible that she would just run out on her family the way some humans did.

I added two slices of onion and some cold chicken to the salad and retrieved the salad dressing from the refrigerator as I continued trying to piece the story together.

River Rock muffles the sound of humans on the wind. It makes it nearly impossible for any fae to track a human by listening for noise of them. However, a fae diminishes the protection if they stay close to the person. So she gave him the stone, but she had to leave to protect him.

Why would the Unseelie come after him? Did they have a grudge against her—enough to want to punish her through her child? Maybe it was the grandmother. Had she played a critical part in the Unseelie defeat in the war?

When I finished preparing my salad, I had no answers. Only more questions, and my head still pounded. I decided to eat, and if my head still ached afterward, I’d make myself a tonic.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Over the next several weeks, my life fell into a new routine. I spent an absurd amount of time keeping track of Alexander's whereabouts in order to maintain a safe distance from him. Or so I told myself.

He never returned to the store, and even though on one level it rankled me—as though not making another appearance was somehow an insult to my cozy little shop—it enabled me to relax when I was there.

My worktable became my sanctuary. I bathed in the energy that radiated from the stones and metals I worked with, absorbing the healing powers they offered.

At home, I looked for him constantly. If I heard or saw him in one direction, I went the other way. This made for some interesting routes from my house up to Mamó's house.

One evening I saw him from my living room window, kicking around a soccer ball with Sophia in the yard behind the guesthouse. His back was turned to me, so I allowed myself to watch him.

He looked good in a faded pair of jeans and a t-shirt stretched tightly across his broad shoulders and hung loose over his narrow hips.

I wondered if soccer had been his game before he injured his arm. He had talent with manipulating the ball's movements. I would have imagined he played baseball, not soccer—probably because I thought all American boys played baseball.

Several other times, I watched him and Sophia on their porch. She often sat on his lap as he read to her. The rocking of the chair lulled her to sleep every time. It created a sweet and tender picture.

Occasionally I would catch a glimpse of him preparing food through the kitchen window as I pulled up to park in our shared driveway.

I began to check through my window before stepping outside the house to be sure he wasn't around. I even pestered Brenna to listen to the wind for him. She often heard him jogging while I was at the lake with her, but he never stopped by the glider again. I thought I was the one avoiding him, but perhaps he was avoiding me too.

Being around Sophia was much easier; she was an absolute joy. I saw her almost daily when she spent time with my grandmother and Shamus.

I even saw Matt more often. The Bed and Breakfast that served as his temporary home was located a couple of blocks from the store. He stopped in to visit Holly and me several times a week on his way home from work. His lanky figure and bright smile were always a welcome sight.

One morning in mid-May, I arrived at the store to find Holly busy with a young couple looking at the
Waterford
Crystal. My earlier bout of jealousy and self-pity had been short lived, and I now enjoyed seeing her with a pregnancy glow.

She looked radiant. Every wisp of her short brown hair was perfectly placed. She had applied her makeup with an expert, if somewhat heavy, hand.

She hadn't started wearing maternity clothes yet, but she was in her fourth month. Her normal clothes would soon be too tight to wear.

Over at my worktable, a man stood with his back to me. I couldn't see his head. He leaned over to look at something, his body blocking it from view. I could tell by the plaid shirt, worn jeans and work boots, not to mention his lanky build, that it was Matt.

When I got closer, I noticed he was reading a newspaper he had sprawled out on the store side of my worktable. He looked up at me and smiled as I rounded the corner.

"Morning," he said.

A small bag of green grapes sat next to the newspaper; Holly had gotten into the habit of bringing fruit into work to snack on. Matt picked one out of the bag and popped it into his mouth.

"You're here early," I said.

"Yeah, Xander is across the street at the outdoor sporting goods store. I decided I'd wait for him here instead of in the car."

"Oh?" To my embarrassment, my heart thumped. "He's coming in, then?"

He grabbed a handful of grapes and ate them, tossing one at a time into his mouth. "What? Oh, in here? No, I told him I'd meet him at the car."

I turned away from him and stowed my purse to cover my disappointment. We both sat down then—me on my workroom chair, him on the stool on the other side of the table.

"What's the temperature like today?" I asked.

He understood me at once and snorted. Holly's moods had been wildly unpredictable recently. He looked at her with such affection that I understood for the first time how much he cared for her.

"Well, Miss Pix is in quite a tizzy this morning. Something about something-or-other in the paper, but I haven't found anything to get all that excited about yet."

The bells above the door chimed when the couple Holly was waiting on left the store. She finished up at the register and joined us.

"Tressa, have you read about this strange illness in the area?" she asked, her soft voice filled with anxiety.

"Which story are you talking about?" Matt asked her. "I couldn't find it."

She paged through the newspaper and pointed to a headline on the third page. "See this?"

"Holly, this says some people in Niagara Falls are sick... so what?" Matt asked after taking a second to read a bit of the article.

"It's contagious. They've found six people with strange, flu-like symptoms since the beginning of the month."

"Yeah, so?"

Holly blew out her breath in a huff. "Matt, I'm pregnant. I can't be around some strange disease. If I get sick, something might happen to the baby."

Matt worked to suppress a smile. "Niagara Falls isn't really that close."

"Don't laugh at me." Holly slapped him on the arm. "These flus usually begin in places like China or Mexico. Compared to that, New York is right around the corner."

I flipped the paper around to read the article, losing myself in thought and barely hearing their conversation. Suddenly, I realized they were both looking at me and waiting for a reaction.

"I'm sure it will end up being something easily explained," I said, all too afraid that I already knew the cause. "It's not even flu season." I must have sounded reasonable, because they both nodded.

"Hey, are you eating my grapes? You can't eat my food, that's not right! I'm eating for two now."

"Not right? What about me? I'm still a growing boy. I need my sustenance too..."

I tuned out their banter as suspicion and fear welled up inside me.
The story had a strange set of coincidences in it, but they could be just that—coincidences, right?
My leg, bouncing under my worktable, told me I hadn't convinced myself.

"Well, I better get going. I'll see you guys later," Matt said. I wasn't listening and didn't respond.

"Tressa, Matt's leaving," Holly said, pulling me back to the present.

"Sorry. Off in my own world, I guess. Top of the morning to ya, Mattie me boy." I gave him a facetious grin and he hooted with laughter.

With a quick wave goodbye, he left.

I looked at Holly as she watched him go, hoping for any hint of deeper feelings for him. Although I hadn't expected to find anything but friendship, I was disappointed when there was nothing more in her expression.

She turned back to me, the movement of her head was accompanied by a soft glittering at her ears.

"New earrings?" I asked.

She wore diamond studs—large, expensive and meant to be impressive.

I, however, was not impressed. Diamonds are, in effect, selfish stones. They’re too hard. They share nothing of their essence with the wearer. Almost any other stone would have given her something of itself.

An unmistakable flash of guilt crossed her face, making me all the more curious about her new baubles. She reached up and fiddled with one.

"Um... yes. Fred gave them to me." Her doe eyes darted around, looking anywhere but my face.

"Oh Pix, don't tell me you're back with him again?" My heart sank at the idea of her taking such a huge step backwards.