“I’ll never be ready for that,” the girl answered softly, and Jazz kissed the child’s hand.
A moment later Trevor shifted them, and Jazz opened her eyes to look down at Frankie.
The girl was sniffing the air, and after a good long whiff said, “Hmmm.”
Jazz smelled it too. From somewhere the aroma of freshly baked bread and simmering food wafted on the air.
They stood in a great hall of what appeared to be a lovely and well-maintained mansion. No cobwebs, no sign of neglect, and yet it was empty. Jazz had the feeling it had been empty for a long, long time.
She looked at Trevor and whispered, “Whose house is this?”
“You don’t have to whisper. There is no one here except us,” he replied.
“No one here? But … it looks so clean, and … I smell food.”
“Seelie Magic. Humans can’t see this place and pass it by even as magic maintains it ever ready for its owner.”
“Who is its owner?”
He laughed, and all at once his fingers lifted her chin, and he said softly, “So very inquisitive, Jazmine Decker.” He frowned then and dropped her chin as he stepped away. “All you need know is that we can remain here safely. It is heavily warded, and no Dark Fae may enter, not even a Dark Prince.”
“I see, but, again, whose house is it?” she pursued.
“As I said, it doesn’t matter—why do you want to know? You don’t know him.” Trevor looked around, as Frankie had broken away from them and was heading down the hallway.
He took Jazz’s hand and started to follow the girl, but Jazz pulled out of his hold and demanded, “It does matter. I need to know. Tell me.” She couldn’t say why, but somehow she knew that the more she learned the better equipped she would be to handle what was coming—and all her Fios senses told her something ugly was coming soon.
“We Royals enjoyed time travel until a few years ago. There were rules, and Prince Breslyn broke them more than he should. This place was one of his rule breakers. We are not supposed to set down roots in the human world, but he loves Scotland and Ireland.” Trevor shrugged. “Breslyn does what Breslyn wants, and most of the time the queen forgives him.”
“But he can’t get back here anymore?” she asked thoughtfully. “So we can’t expect him to swoop in and rescue us?”
“No, he can no longer travel through time. We are not certain, but we believe that even our queen cannot …” His voice trailed off, as Frankie was now out of sight.
“Come on—let’s go, sit, and have our dinner,” he said on a laugh.
“Oh, yes, that wonderful aroma … I am famished. How did you do that?”
“I am a Royal, Jazmine Decker. I can do many things. You would do well not to forget that.” His voice was low, and suddenly Jazz was sure he was going to kiss her. He was bending towards her. He was putting his arm around her waist. He was pulling her close. Yes, yes, he was going to …
He bent to her ear and said in a low, husky voice, “Perhaps, one day, you will ask me to show you some of the things that I can do …”
He unbent and led her to the kitchen, where they found Frankie already seated at the table, eating a basketful of biscuits and with a drumstick in her free hand.
~ Six ~
THE DARK PRINCE Hordly looked around at the old barn he had converted to serve his requirements. It had taken some concentration and a great deal of magic. He felt strangely drained from the effort.
He had never had to construct anything so elaborate. His life in the Human Realm during that final battle with Gaiscioch leading the charge had been short-lived. Pestale had always been the one to plan, construct, and execute. He had never had to build anything anywhere. It had all been provided for them by the Dark King; this had been a new and taxing experience.
He sneered when he thought of the Dark King. Hatred oozed through his body. Pestale still thought of the Dark King as a father, but he no longer did. How could he? The Dark King had always viewed him with distaste.
He shut down such thoughts. He quickly cast a spell of concealment so that his habitat would be hidden from the outside world.
He needed this place, this refuge where he could work and think and find a way back to his time without plunging himself into the Dark Realm.
The Orb had closed the portal at the monoliths. He could not use that portal in its present state, but he was trying to recall the spell his brother had once perfected. Perhaps that spell would enable him to open another door from the past to his own time period … right in Killarney, where it had sucked him back instead of allowing him to remain in the present. Once in the present, he could work on a way to get his Morrigu and brothers out of the Dark Prison.
What might help was the residue created and left to linger in the atmosphere when the Orb first opened the portal, before it realized he was Unseelie. Could he harness that power? He would only have a few more days to collect it before it was too weak to be of any use. The question was how—how could he collect it?