Hot for the Holidays

  to catch up. “You don’t even know where you’re going so fast.”

  “Anywhere far away from you is acceptable.”

  “You wound me.” He fell into step beside her.

  “I’d like to do more than just wound you.”

  “You just saved my head, Bella. I don’t believe it, unless you mean something else,” he finished with a suggestive lilt to his voice.

  She colored a little. With skin as fair as hers, it was easy to see even in the gentle glow of the streetlights. “I’m only coming with you because I have to.”

  “Okay.” He shrugged one broad shoulder. “Like I said, I’ll take what I can get from you. Before we travel to the outreaches of Piefferburg, we need to visit a friend. I need the ingredients for a spell for magickal countermeasures.”

  “What kind of countermeasures?”

  “I need to block their tracking spell. Even now they’re figuring out where we are and coming after us. Is your magick strong enough to block a tracking spell?”

  Bella hugged herself. “You know it’s not.”

  “Then we need to make a stop first. Afterward we’ll find somewhere to sleep. It’s cold and we’re both exhausted.”

  She eyed the rows of neat houses they passed. Each of them was unique to the type of fae it housed. The brownies’ abodes were small and round, while the Formorian houses were large enough to shelter a family of giants. The effect was discombobulation, unevenness, chaos. So unlike the neat suburban neighborhoods of the humans, where all the houses looked alike and everyone cut the grass to exactly three inches.

  Dear Gods, how Ronan loved Piefferburg. He’d been beyond the borders, thanks to the Phaendir. He’d seen the human world. All the fae wanted out of here, but he couldn’t see why. There was no magick out there.

  “I guess hotels are out,” she muttered.

  “In a normal hotel, even with countermeasures, the guard would track us so fast our heads would spin off our shoulders.” He grinned. “Never fear. I know the perfect place.”

  She gave him a suspicious sidelong glance. “Where?”

  “A love hotel.”

  Her steps faltered. “A what?” Her gorgeous brown eyes grew wide.

  “You’ve lived a sheltered life. A love hotel is a totally anonymous establishment. You check in via an unmoni tored computer system and pay cash for the room. Very popular with the affair-having set. Small, simple rooms, since usually people don’t go there for the décor.”

  “They go there for the bed.”

  “They go there to fuck.”

  She averted her gaze, looking straight ahead. “No way.”

  “You’re going if you don’t want to freeze to death, or be captured by the Queen’s Guard, or both.”

  “Why couldn’t you have just left me alone? I could be home in bed right now.”

  His boots crunched the snow-covered ground. “Why didn’t you leave me alone? You could have left me in my prison if you’d wanted and you didn’t. I didn’t want to put you in danger. I didn’t want you on this journey, but maybe it’s better you’re out of your prison too.”

  “Prison? What are you talking about?”

  “Come on, Bell, you know as well—”

  “Bella.”

  “—as I do that all the Seelie nobles are locked in a prison.”

  “Every fae in Piefferburg is a prisoner, Ronan.”

  “You know what I mean. The Seelie are expected to behave a certain way. They’re indoctrinated into a restrictive culture and told half-truths and outright lies about the outside world. Being born into that court is akin to being born with shackles on for an eternity.”

  “Wow, Ronan. You never used to feel this way. When I knew you, you weren’t so negative about the Seelie. Is it because they recently tried to get rid of you?”

  He shook his head. “My opinion of the Seelie Court has never changed. I petitioned the Summer Queen to reside in the Rose Tower because I had a good reason to do so, that’s all.”

  “What was your reason?”

  His reason had been her. He’d visited on an errand for the Shadow King all those years ago, had met Bella and fallen in love with her. He’d petitioned the Summer Queen immediately for residency. Circumstances being what they were, he’d been forced to eventually end his affair with Bella, but he’d never wanted to leave her proximity, so he’d remained in the Rose instead of returning to the Black. No matter how much it had hurt to see her so often and never be with her, he’d remained. “I stayed at the Rose Tower for you.”

  “Stop, Ronan. Just stop. You confuse me.”

  “Let me explain.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “You have no idea how badly you broke my heart. I don’t want to hear it. I just want to get through this.” She crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself. “Where is this hotel, anyway?”

  “In good time. We’re almost at my friend’s place.”

  She looked down the quiet, snowy, house-lined street. Then she looked back at their footprints on the walk behind them, quickly being covered over with a frosting of snow. “Your friend lives in the Ceantar Láir?”

  “No, not exactly.” He murmured a low, magickally charged Maejian phrase, took two steps forward, and disappeared.

  ella stopped short and blinked. His hand reached out of nowhere and yanked her forward . . . into nowhere.

  The world was hazy for a moment, then grew clear and sharp once more. They were no longer in the Ceantar Láir. A dark, gritty street now surrounded her. No snow, but the chill bit deeply into her bones. He’d stepped them into a pocket, moved them from the Ceantar Láir back to the downtown area with one murmured phrase and a dash of strong magick.

  Bella understood instantly that this was a part of the downtown area where the Seelie weren’t encouraged to visit. They were on the other side of Piefferburg Square, and the smooth black quartz of the Unseelie Court rose directly behind the small buildings to her right. This alley was nestled somewhere at the back of the Unseelie Court, right at its base.

  “We’re standing in the shadow of the Black Tower,” Bella whispered, turning a wary circle on the snow-dusted cobblestones.

  “Yes. We’re right at the door of the Piefferburg witch.”

  “The Piefferburg witch is a friend, Ronan?” Her breath caught. “She’s Unseelie.”

  He flashed his teeth. “So am I, Bella.”

  It was hard to keep in mind that he’d been a member of the Black Tower a lot longer than he’d been a resident of the Rose. “You have some of that blood, but you’re not so . . . so Unseelie as the Piefferburg witch.”

  “I am very Unseelie Tuatha Dé. Almost one hundred percent, in fact. Only a drop of Seelie to muddy the pool. Do you have a problem with that, Shining One?” The voice was old, broken, gritty as the pavement Bella stood on. The woman’s body matched. The Piefferburg witch stood in a narrow doorway, the light of a small room behind her glowing softly, invitingly. “Don’t stare, child. It’s rude.” The wizened crone disappeared into the tiny building. “Come in, please.”

  Without hesitation, Ronan followed. Bella studied the doorway for a heartbeat, snowflakes drifting onto her cheeks and melting, then she entered.

  Candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls and revealed a table with three chairs. All along the walls were shelves filled with books, boxes, and jars. All of it was in terrible disarray. The scent of dried plants, herbs, and various other items used in the witch’s special brand of magic assaulted Bella’s nose.

  The ancient-looking witch bowed with a swiftness and flexibility that Bella could not believe. “It’s an honor to have such a high-ranking Seelie in my humble shop.” The scorn in her voice said otherwise. “You are Bella Rhiannon Caliste Mac Lyr, descended without taint from the first Seelie Tuatha Dé Danann. I’ve seen you on Faemous, of course.”

  Bella didn’t respond to the mockery she heard in the words.

  With a wave of her hand, the crone transformed into a beautiful young b
lond woman wearing a shimmering green dress that hit her mid-thigh and a matching pair of kitten heels. Her makeup was flawless and beautiful; glittering bobs hung at her ears, and a matching pendant nestled in the hollow of her throat.

  “Oh, my sweet Danu.” One might think that living in the Rose Tower would have exposed Bella to powerful magicks, but that was not true. None of the Seelie she knew had power like this. It had all been bred out of them in an effort to keep the bloodlines true. It was ironic and a pity.

  “Don’t show off, Priss,” said Ronan, who was examining a crystal ball on the other side of the room.

  The witch pouted. “I get so few pure Seelie. Let me play.”

  Bella lowered her hand from her mouth and forcibly wiped the awe from her expression. “I’ve heard of you. You’re the only witch in Purgatory.”

  “Incorrect.” Priss the witch raised an eyebrow. “I’m the only one of my kind in all the world.” She changed form again, this time to an older, pregnant woman. She wore overalls and a red kerchief wound through her auburn hair. Beautiful, maternal.

  Maiden. Mother. Crone. She was all of them. A unique fae creature created from Unseelie and low-blood Seelie pairings, with unimaginable power. This was the Piefferburg witch.

  Now she was back to crone. She cackled and crooked a finger at Bella. “I know what you two want and I have it.” She shuffled to one of the shelves and pulled a small wooden box from it. Slanting a sly gaze at her, the witch said, “I trust you can pay?”

  She had a moment of unease. Arranging for payment with the fae was fraught with double meanings, loopholes, and treachery. “What am I buying?”

  Ronan answered. “Supplies to weave a cloaking spell. A way to cover our tracks and make it more difficult for the Imperial Guard to track us.” He paused. “And I’m buying it.”

  “Never mind. I’m giving the ingredients to you for free, just for the pleasure of watching the will of the Summer Queen thwarted.” The witch crackled again. “The circus is in town and I’ll gladly pay for my seat.”

  Priss the witch shuffled back over to them with the box in hand. Both Bella and Ronan came close to peer inside as she pushed the carved top open on a whine of rusty hinges. Whatever was inside—Bella wasn’t sure she wanted to know—smelled dry and slightly decayed.

  Whatever the contents, Ronan palmed the box like it was something precious and followed Priss to another shelf, where he gathered more vials and small boxes. Then Priss led him to the back of the room, where there was a counter with a large brass bowl and mystical-looking implements that Bella couldn’t name.

  Priss caught Bella craning her neck to see, and she cackled. “Intrigued a bit by the dark arts, Shining One?”

  Bella’s spine stiffened. “I’m not afraid of it, if that’s what you mean.”

  “A Seelie who is not afraid of the dark.” The witch shook her head. “I never met one. You’re lying.” Summarily dismissing her, Priss turned and began fussing with the jars on her shelves in the dimly lit room.

  Ronan worked at the back table while Bella peered curiously at her surroundings, wondering exactly how Priss achieved the clown car effect of such a large room existing in a space that appeared outwardly to be so tiny. Clearly her home was in an alternate pocket somewhere else within the boundaries of Piefferburg.

  Leaving a scatter of dried herb on the table, Ronan approached her with the original rare wooden box in his hand. “The spell is woven. All we need to do now is set it in place.” He came close enough to her so she could feel his body heat.

  Ronan murmured under his breath and power swelled in the air, putting pressure in Bella’s eardrums. She took a step back just as Ronan blew into the box, puffing the dry concoction into her face. Bella’s body shook from the inside out, a strange sensation that made her gasp. Magick clung for a moment on her skin and in her hair before dissipating into the air. As she shook and acclimated to the spell covering her body, Ronan inhaled his own dose.

  “So this will keep us safe?” Bella asked.

  Ronan shrugged one shoulder. “There are countermeasures for countermeasures. I was one of the queen’s mages and I know the others are all good. We can’t be totally sure we’re protected, but it’s better than nothing.”

  “Better than nothing. Great.”

  “Thank you for your help, Priss. Can you let us out near the Ceantar Dubh?”

  That was nowhere near the Boundary Lands. Couldn’t the witchy subway system get them closer? “Ceantar Dubh? Why can’t she let us out—” She stopped herself before she blurted out more than the witch needed to know. Bella’s gaze darted to the old woman, who smiled at her. “You know, where we need to go.”

  “Priss’s abilities in this regard are driven by the magick of the fae. The more fae in an area, the stronger her magick. Therefore, she’s limited to downtown and the Ceantar Láir.”

  The witch shrugged and waved her hand. “Anything for you, Ronan. The location is set.” She grinned, showing broken teeth. “As always, I thank you for your patronage.”

  ow, exactly, do you know her?” Bella asked as they “stepped back into the narrow alley.

  He cast a sidelong glance at her. “Jealous of an old woman?”

  “First off, I’m not jealous. I’m just curious. Second, she’s not always an old woman.”

  Ronan glanced at her and gave her a small, secretive smile. “No, that’s true. Not all the time.”

  Bella rolled her eyes.

  “I know her,” Ronan said, pulling her down the alley, “because she stocks the ingredients necessary to create many of my spells. Out of all the fae in Piefferburg, with the exception of my brother, Niall, her magick is closest to my own. She’s not one of my lovers.”

  One of his lovers. So, he had many. It pinched. Bella couldn’t deny that fact. She shouldn’t care, but she couldn’t help that she did.

  FIVE

  He murmured something and they stepped through another pocket, this time into a different part of the downtown area, one that Bella had been to only a handful of times, as it wasn’t an upscale shopping area.

  Storefronts were closed this late at night and so close to the winter solstice. Yuletide lights blinked merrily in the windows, wishing passersby a merry season filled with joy. The occasional fae could be seen walking down the cobblestone street, huddled in a coat, but this was the downtown business district and there weren’t any Yuletide revelers to be seen like there were near the square.

  In front of them rose a tall brick building with a red hostelry sign blinking on the front. They were at the infamous “love hotel,” apparently.

  “See? We’re here. Knowing Priss can be very helpful.” He walked into the building.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” Bella grumbled before following him and wondering just how many of his lovers he’d taken to this place. The thought left her stomach a little sour.

  One computer stood in the small entry room, the cursor on the black screen blinking at them. Ronan went to it.

  “Are you sure you trust this?” Bella asked, coming up next to him. “This place could be saturated in magick or inhabited with fae who are able to secret themselves away and spy. I mean, you said people use this place for conducting carnal affairs, right? Can you imagine all the reasons to monitor activity? Suspicious spouses? Blackmail? Pure unadulterated voyeurism?”

  “The spell I cast on us will protect us from any magickal surveillance, Bella.” He typed something into the computer and paid for the room with cash by feeding the bills into the appropriate slots, and a key slid out near the keyboard. “Relax. We’ll get some sleep and we can continue our journey in the morning.”

  Her body was achy with fatigue and her muscles tight with stress. He walked to her and laid his hands on her shoulders. The heat of his touch melted through the fabric of her shirt and into her skin. She stared at the collar of his sweater, where she could see a few dark chest hairs and his smooth, warm skin over hard, rippling muscle. She couldn’t stop herself from wonderin
g what it all would feel like under her fingers, her lips. The scent of him teased her nose, a combination of his soap and aftershave—the quintessential smell that was simply him. It made her feminine muscles deep within clench with sudden desire, bringing her body to an almost abrupt sexual awareness.

  Ah, Danu, just his proximity made her knees go weak. She had no defenses against this man. She hadn’t had them thirty years ago and she hadn’t developed any since.

  “Bella, look at me.”

  With effort, she raised her gaze to his.

  “Relax.”

  Fat chance of that in a love hotel with the one man she’d always wanted but could never have. Still, she did need to relax a little, or soon her clenched jaw would be churning out diamonds made from her teeth.

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay, I’m relaxed.” At least for a second or two.

  He waved a flat plastic room key in front of her nose. “Good. Then let’s get some sleep.”

  The room was small, barely enough space for two people to get around in. A window on the far wall revealed the lovely view of a fire escape and the brick side of the neighboring building. The bed—a king size—was the only piece of furniture. There were no dressers, no chairs, not even a lamp or a bad painting on the wall. It was clear what the room was meant for . . . and it wasn’t for relaxing weekends away from home. Bella almost turned and walked the other way once she’d crossed the threshold, but Ronan caught her arm.

  “There’s only one bed.” It was a stupid, obvious comment, but her tongue couldn’t find any intelligent words at the moment.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take the floor.”

  She eyed the small space. “There’s not enough floor for you to take.”

  “I’ll manage. The rooms are small so they can pack a bunch into one building. These places make a ton of money.”

  “Great.” She curled her lip at the garish green design of the coverlet and eyed the dark entrance to what was undoubtedly a closet-sized bathroom. “I think I prefer my apartment.”

  “Not all the fae are as blessed as the Seelie, Bella.”

  “Is the room clean, at least?”

  “Spotless. It’s run by the Uruisg. You know how clean-crazy they are.”

  The Uruisg were a breed of Scottish brownies, a slightly more nightmarish cousin to her house goblin, Lolly. Aside from being known for their cleanliness, in ancient times they’d had a tendency to harass unwary human travelers for the fun of it, back when the fae were supposed to be underground. Some of them had been unable to leave humans completely alone.

  So, apparently, the Uruisg had gone from tormenting travelers to hosting them.

  That was called irony.

  He entered the room, pulling off his coat and his sweater with a tired groan as he went. Bella averted her eyes and lingered in the doorway. Stepping into that room was going to be like stepping into fire. She didn’t want to get burned, but the flame was so very pretty.

  She fidgeted and frowned. “Maybe I could get my own room.”

  He glanced at her and shook his head. “And if the Imperial Guard shows up? If you’re in your own unlocked room, by your choice, how could I convince them I kidnapped you?”

  “They saw me helping you, Ronan.”

  “I’d still try to convince them I’d coerced you.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought you said we were safe with your spell on us.”

  He spread his hands, shirt fisted in one hand. “No one can predict the future, Bella. No one can know every possible angle. Magick is a never-ending tangle of possibilities.” Ronan swept low in a courtly bow. “Please, enter, my lady. I promise I won’t bite.”

  Maybe he wouldn’t bite, but the mischievous look on his face convinced Bella he might want to nibble a bit. The problem was she wasn’t completely sure she didn’t want him to nibble.

  She entered the room anyway.

  His hands went to the top button of his pants. She looked away. “I’m going to take a shower, if you don’t mind. I still have prison stink on me.” At the shake of her head, he headed into the bathroom.

  With a grateful sigh of relief for a few moments alone to collect her thoughts, she sank down on the bed and stared at the closed bathroom door. The water was turned on, and after a minute steam rolled from beneath the door. She wasn’t going to think about Ronan naked, wet and soapy under the spray of the hot water.

  So, of course, that’s all she did.

  Pulling off her coat, she slumped back against the pillows and recalled the first time they’d met. The Seelie Court was small in comparison with the rest of Piefferburg, but it operated through a system of social cliques. Ronan had come to the court on an errand for the Shadow King. He’d lived in the Black Tower since he’d been a child, along with his brother, who still resided there. He and Bella had met in the hallway that day and it had been like an electric shock for her. She’d been immediately smitten.

  Ronan had been scheduled to be there for a week on and off, acting as a messenger for his king. At the end of that week, he’d shocked them all by applying to stay in the Rose Tower. The Shadow King was incensed. The Summer Queen allowed it because taking one of the Unseelie was a way to embarrass the Black Tower’s Royal, and besides, Ronan was physically attractive and had captured the imagination of most of the women at court. It also didn’t hurt that he was a powerful mage. The queen quickly employed him as one of her personal assistants.

  Due to the uniqueness of the circumstances—an Unseelie coming to their side of the square, even if said individual had some Seelie blood, was highly unusual—everyone assumed he was sleeping with the queen. That he was her pet, so to speak. Even Bella had believed that to be the case at first.

  But of all the women at court, Ronan seemed to have his eye set on Bella. Every time they passed each other in the corridor, his dark gaze would hold hers with such a carnal intensity that her cheeks would heat and her heart would thump. At banquets and balls he always managed to sit near her or brush against her. Bella wasn’t the only one who noticed it. Aislinn had commented on Ronan’s fascination with her often.