CURSED TO DEATH- Excerpt
Prologue
New Orleans… French Quarter
Sir Rodney took a sip of Fae ale, feeling the buzz of the lager finally lift his spirits. Under the circumstances, it was good to see Ethan McGregor’s establishment filled with happy patrons. The Fair Lady was a good place for his constituents to see their king out and about enjoying life as though he hadn’t a care in the world… as though nothing was amiss.
It was important to keep up appearances. In the three hundred leagues he’d ruled, he’d never seen anything as devastating as the recent magick scourge that he’d witnessed creeping through his kingdom. His top advisors were on it to no avail; his most trusted investigator had come up empty-handed. He just hoped that it could be dealt with and eradicated before the Mid-Summer Night’s Ball a few evenings hence. It had to be. That was the cornerstone of Fae National Security—confidence in their current leadership. Confidence in their magick.
His personal bodyguard inclined his head closer to Sir Rodney, wrenching him from his thoughts.
“Milord,” the bodyguard murmured in a discreet tone. “The young lady across the room is trying to get your attention.”
“Indeed,” Sir Rodney said quietly as he made eye contact with the gorgeous red head. Now he was sure that he’d been preoccupied in the misery of his own thoughts; how in the world could he have missed her.
“Desidera,” he said with a gallant smile as he stood when she neared his table, shrugging his long spill of brunette hair over his broad shoulders.
But the long-legged beauty didn’t return his smile. Her petite breasts heaved, taking in shallow sips of air like the frightened bird she was inside. His bodyguard gave him a sidelong glance. Something was definitely wrong.
“Milord,” she said nervously. “Please sit down or you’ll cause a stir.”
Sir Rodney complied with a slight half-smile, trying to keep any onlookers at bay. “No more of a stir than you’ve already caused in me. I ’ave missed you.”
But when she cast her gaze down at the table and didn’t respond with her customary coy giggle, he reached out and clasped one of her hands. This was no way for lovers to react to one another, despite keeping up public appearance for the sake of discretion.
Rather than immediately give him her direct attention, her gaze nervously flitted around the crowded room. He stared up into her green irises, watching the Phoenix flame in them begin to kindle as she bit her bottom lip.
“I must talk to you in private tonight,” she said in a sudden, urgent whisper.
“Sit,” he commanded, all amusement fading from his expression or tone.
She shook her head no. “Too many eyes, Milord, and too many ears… what I have to relay is crucial, but cannot be done here out in the open.”
“Please sit down,” he said more calmly, gently tugging on her hand until she complied. “Tell me where and when I can meet you, then.”
“At my apartment,” she said, her eyes holding his for only a moment before nervously roving the establishment again.
“If it is a matter of such urgency,” Sir Rodney persisted in a private murmur, “then I will have one of my guards relay a message to Ethan McGregor that I needed to meet with one of his girls. Understood? This way your secret will be disguised by a king’s request for female companionship and—”
“No, Milord, please. I must dance tonight. Everything must appear as it always has been.” She stood with great flourish, gathering her brightly colored dancing costume plumes about her, and then pasted on a false smile for anyone who might have been watching their exchange. Keeping up appearances, she cast an uneasy glance around the table at his body guard and then relaxed when Sir Rodney patted her hand. “Bring a guard with you when you come—I don’t know if I’ve been discovered and I would simply flame away if something tragic were to befall you.”
“I will meet you at the end of your shift and we will escort you home, if the issue is so compelling that you fear for my safety.”
She nodded as two large tears rose in her glittering eyes. “I have stashed what I must show you in the wine cellar,” she said in a hissing whisper, leaning down to speak more closely into his ear. “I will develop a ruse, collect the item I want you to see, and then will meet you in the dressing room in the back.” She squeezed his hand tightly. “I would appreciate the escort. Thank you.”
He looked up at her, keeping his voice a low private murmur, almost ready to take her and bolt from the establishment with a retinue of palace guards, then thought better of that impulse. Secrecy was paramount, if there was some sort of treason afoot. “If you fear that you are in mortal danger, know that you have amnesty at the castle.”
Again, she nodded quickly and sniffed back the unshed tears. “Thank you, Milord.”
The two stared at each other for a moment, him studying her beautiful, frightened face, her eyes no longer only holding fear, but also containing some small measure of relief. But whatever fear she’d shed had now been transferred to him, and he could feel acute worry for her safety thread through his body like a black viper.
“Desidera… what does this all involve, my love? I know that you cannot openly show me here, nor discuss it fully, but hours will pass before your shift concludes.” Sir Rodney reached out and cradled her cheek. “Do ye not trust me?”
“Without fail, Milord,” she murmured, but then glanced around with the full measure of fear returned to her haunted gaze. “It is not you that I do not trust; it is the devastating nature of the subject matter and those who could be listening even now as we speak.”
Staring at her he rose slowly, holding her hand. “Tell me. There is nothing that my overlords and I cannot vanquish.”
Leaning in to him, she brushed his cheek with a soft kiss, her pained gaze telegraphing a myriad of emotions that he could not fathom before she slipped away from his hold.
