Enchanted: A Fae Fantasy Romance (Fae Magic Book 3) Page 6

Kiss her until she forgot who she was. Kiss her until he forgot to care. Kiss her until none of it mattered.

  It felt like eternity pulsed between his hands, but it was only seconds. He inhaled, calming his suddenly shaking hands—and let her go. “Let’s get you some food, so your headache doesn’t return.”

  Eyes wide, she scrambled to her feet and headed for the door, letting the servants in. Two footmen wheeled in the tray and the smell of roast venison hit him. His stomach growled.

  It had been too long since he’d eaten and his judgment was off. He’d nearly taken her out. And that would have been a grievous error. She was the only person here besides the queen and Haddon who was free of the spell. She was his best bet at finding the human mirror of the queen’s. Find the mirror. Get out. Get paid. And then, he’d have enough power to feel secure when he went north to face the Winter Queen.

  He rolled his neck. The bones cracked and popped, releasing the tension.

  If anyone knew where the witch was hidden, Cassandra would. She was a princess. She’d be able to go anywhere, question anybody. She held secrets and his employer would be furious if he screwed up this opportunity to take down the queen. He needed her. And any information she had locked inside her pretty little head.

  “Put it over there.” Her voice wavering and high pitched, she directed the footmen to put the dishes on the low table in front of the couch. Once they’d finished, both men stayed by her side, their shoulders going back in identical expressions of defense. He needed to backtrack. Fast. Or she’d have him escorted out, maybe even as far as the dungeons.

  “I’m sorry, Your Highness, if I frightened you.” He poured a glass of the wine and handed it to her, pleased by how steady his hands were despite the adrenaline still shooting through him. “You took me by surprise.”

  She took a sip and eyed him over the rim.

  “If you want, I’ll tell you the tale you were curious about over dinner.” He nodded at the servants.

  She hesitated. “Maybe that’s not such a good idea.”

  “My lady?” The older footman’s lips were tight. He gave Bosco the once-over. “My lady, we’d be happy to escort the gentleman out.”

  The younger footman’s Adam’s apple bobbed, but he stepped closer.

  “You still owe me dinner.” Bosco mustered all the charm he had and was surprised to see a slight glazing of her eyes. Could it be that the humanity running in her veins was strong enough to make her less resistant to his fae nature? He needed to be cautious and not overuse it, otherwise she might pick up on it.

  “My lady?”

  Cassandra opened her mouth. Bosco could see she was about to ask the footmen to escort him out. “Your Highness,” he said. She turned and he caught her gaze. He let his desire for her show in his eyes. “Your Highness, I promise, I will be a gentleman.” He lowered his voice. “As long as you want me to.” He leaned in closer and stroked the underside of her hand.

  Her fingers curled. She nodded. “Why don’t you both wait outside in the hall. I’ll call you if I need you.” She gave him a look and ushered the reluctant footmen out the door. “It’s alright. I’ll be fine.” Neither of them looked reassured, but they did as they were told and exited the room.

  He closed the door after them, giving the older one a score! grin, and used a tendril of magic to be sure they moved further along the hallway.

  “Look, it’s your secret.” She hovered next to the couch, twisting her fingers together and not looking at him. “But I didn’t want to be with you and not let you know I knew.” She lifted her chin and finally met his gaze. “If you want to go, you should go.”

  “You surprise me,” he said, staying a careful distance away. “You’re not going to reveal me to the queen?” She was offering him a chance to just leave. He found himself liking her more than he should, and it was always a bad thing to like a woman you were about to seduce for information. Or one that you might need to kill.

  “No. At least not right now.” She frowned. “But don’t forget, everyone saw you come up here. I can simply call out and twenty of the guard will be here in seconds.” Something passed behind her clear gaze.

  His spy instincts sharpened. She had a secret. Some reason she’d sent the guards away. She wanted something from him, something more than sex. There was definitely more to her than it appeared. He needed information for his quest, but he realized he wanted to know more about her. She wasn’t just a spoiled princess. She was complex. And that interested him.

  “You must be as hungry as I am.” She sank into the corner of the couch and gestured to the other corner. “Come. Sit.”

  He obeyed, making sure to take the seat she’d indicated and giving her plenty of room to feel safe.

  “It smells amazing.” She lifted one of the silver lids and the delicious steamy aroma rose.

  His stomach growled.

  “I love roast venison,” she said, lifting another lid. “Look, Cook added those little potatoes too. Mmm, she knows those are my favorites.” She bent over the food and he used her distraction to use more magic to lock them inside. He couldn’t afford any more interruptions.

  “Let me fix you a plate, Your Highness.” He dished up the roast, delicate asparagus and dandelion salad, and made sure she had a nice pile of the golden brown potatoes she favored. He refilled her wine glass, to nearly more than full, before sitting a decent two feet away to give her some illusion of safety.

  He waited for her to eat first before finally picking up his fork and diving in. It was delicious. He’d known he was hungry, but it had been some time since he’d eaten a meal of this quality and he found himself savoring every bite.

  She ate at a slow pace. Examining him between bites as if checking for flaws. “Your glamour is very good,” she said. “I’ve never seen someone able to cover their aura like that.”

  “You shouldn’t have been able to see through it.” He knew his glamour was more than good. It was excellent. Even a princess of the upper fae shouldn’t be able to see through it. And he was sure she wasn’t a princess. But what was she? And why did everyone in the court but him believe her story.

  “If we hadn’t kissed to seal my promise, I doubt I would have.”

  “So you think it was the kiss?” He swirled the deep red wine around his glass, watching it slide back down the clear surface. “No one has seen under my glamours for many years, and I’ve kissed more than a few women. What makes you special?”

  She laughed. “Well, my Gift may not be reliable, the entire court may make fun of me, but the truth is my inner sight is very strong.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “When it works.”

  “The court makes fun of you? Why?”

  “You don’t know?” She put her fork down and picked up her wine. “I assumed the entire countryside was talking about it. My aunt and Lord Haddon give me nothing but grief about the fact that ever since my parents’ death my Gift’s been wonky. I can’t even do the simplest magic.” She eyed him curiously over the rim of her glass. “How is it you don’t know that I’ve lost my magic? Everyone knows.”

  “Everyone?”

  She avoided his eyes.

  “Everyone knows of your Gift and that it’s not working?”

  “Everyone but you,” she sipped her wine. “Tell me who you are.”

  “That’s not the question you need to be asking.”

  “Then what is?”

  “The question is not who I am, but why is it that I don’t know about you?” He leaned in, narrowing the space between them. “I know all the people at court. I’ve been there for years, but I’ve never heard a word about the queen’s niece Cassandra.”

  Confusion flashed over her face.“What do you mean, you don’t know about me?” She took another sip of wine.

  At this rate, and with the amount of food she hadn’t eaten, she’d be drunk before he got any information.

  “I’m heir to the throne. And I’m not really the queen’s niece, not directly.”

/>   He shook his head. His world had run down a rabbit hole and this girl was at the center of the mystery. “You? You’re the heir to the Black Court?”

  No way. She couldn’t be. He’d never heard of her, not one single peep. He racked his brain, running it up and down the ladder of the royal genealogy. She didn’t even exist outside of the castle, he was sure of it.

  “Me.” She drained her glass, and held it out for more, her hand wobbling a bit in the air. “At least, I’m supposed to be.”

  “What about Prince Kian? What about your uncle?” He took her glass and poured her more wine. It was a fine line between getting her soused enough to loosen her lips, yet keep her awake and focused enough to feed him information.

  “Uncle Nial’s powers aren’t strong enough to hold the throne.”

  “And yours are?”

  She flushed, the color running along her cheeks and even turning the tips of her pointed ears a delicate shade of pink. “Lord Haddon says my Gift will come back. I suffered a shock. He’s been working with me privately.” She turned her attention back to her food, shoveling in several bites and chewing.

  He’d nearly cleared his own plate, he’d been starving, but hers was still full. He needed answers.

  “Did you know that everyone here is under a spell?”

  “Not everyone,” she said. “You aren’t. I’m not.”

  “Maybe you are under a spell.”

  “Wouldn’t I know? Wouldn’t someone know?”

  “Let’s see. How can you tell I’m not under the spell?” He shook his head. “Oh, of course...your Gift. Your ‘wonky’ Gift.”

  Pink heat scalded her cheeks and it went straight to his groin. She could blush. Few ladies of the court retained that ability. None that he associated with. It was entrancing, engaging, ensnaring.

  “That, and you snuck in under the wall to avoid it,” she said.

  He dragged his attention back to the problem at hand. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by her facade of innocence. He had to get his mission accomplished and get out of here alive. He topped off her glass. “Do you know what the spell does?”

  Her words were getting blurry. “Makes them all compliant.” She swung her glass in the air, accenting each word. “They come, they feast, they get drunk and high. Then they fuck like bunnies.” She giggled and licked a strawberry. “And afterward they go home, only to have it happen again the next week.

  “Over and over again the guests show up. Over and over again they dress me up and parade me in front of them. Every single guest seems to know me, to remember me, but I can’t recognize anyone from before I came here.” Her voice rose. “Why do they all know me, but I don’t know a single one of them?”

  The question hung in the air between them. He let the silence be, letting it do the job of pulling more information from her.

  She made a small sound of frustration and placed her glass a little too hard on the table, the wine sloshing up the sides of the glass.“This isn’t working.” She scooted closer. “I need to touch you. I need to see you.”

  “Why? What is it you need to see?”

  She touched his thigh, running her hand daringly close to his groin. “Kiss me.”

  He put his glass down and moved in closer.

  “Yes,” she whispered. She leaned up and he brushed his lips against hers.

  Instead of sizzling heat and excitement, his glamour touched hers and her aura recoiled in response. She jerked back.

  Her eyes flashed. “It’s not enough. I want to kiss the real Bosco.”

  It was dangerous and it was wrong. And he wanted it. Wanted her to see him, not this fake exterior he’d maintained for far too long. A hundred years of hiding who he really was, working to find a way to save Siobhan. A hundred years of isolation among the crowds of the courts.

  He hadn’t realized how tired he was of hiding. Of pretending to be this role or that. Of never having anyone see more than a piece of himself at any one time. He’d pinned everything on saving Siobhan. Now, he was almost there and the idea that the next hundred years he’d be free to do as he pleased. Play with whom he pleased. Be anyone he pleased. It was all so tempting, and here, in this moment, he had a chance to play with his future.

  But he shouldn’t risk it. Too much was at stake. He didn’t need to show her his true self to get the information he needed.

  “Close your eyes,” he murmured, stroking her shoulder. “Pretend you don’t see the glamour.” She did as he asked. “Tell me what you feel.”

  “I feel your hand on my skin.” He kissed her neck, used his lips and tongue to draw small breathless sounds of pleasure from her. She leaned into him. “Oh,” she murmured. “That feels good.”

  The bare skin of her shoulder scorched his palm. She was hot and he wanted to feel more.

  She pressed against him. “When you touch me, I almost know.”

  “Know what?” he whispered, pulling her in closer.

  “Since I woke three months ago, I’ve had to learn to be myself all over again. But when I feel your hands on my skin I think I might be someone else—someone passionate, someone strong. Someone...who burns.”

  The heat between them flared and she shuddered along his body. He brushed his lips against hers and she flinched away.

  “Urg!” Her hand tightened on his leg. “It’s not enough. I need the real you to kiss me.”

  “I can’t.” He could show her. It was risky. But after all, this would be his last job. After this one he’d go up north. Then he’d either be dead or he’d be free to live his own life.

  Would it be so dangerous to share his true face with Cassandra? It was possible she already knew what he looked like. After all, when they’d kissed he’d seen under her aura’s natural protective illusion. Maybe she’d seen who he really was underneath?

  He had time. He could show her, seduce her, and be back under his glamour before the dawn.

  She blew out a breath. “At least tell me why you snuck under the wall.”

  “Should we make another bargain?”

  “What kind of bargain?” Her eyes turned smoky.

  Need surged through him.

  He wanted her. She wanted him. And he wanted information. This might be just the way to get it. “I want your story, all of it. In return I’ll show you my face and I’ll give you a name.”

  “Just my story, not...” Disappointment flickered across her face.

  He bit back a smile. She’d never be a poker player. How the hell had she survived this long in the court?

  “I won’t bargain for what you really want.” He stroked down her collarbone and along the top of her breast. “That’s something you should give, not sell. You can have that either way, if you want it.” Dark painful memories wiped his smile away. He forced them back and nuzzled her neck. “I’ll not turn you into a whore, my lady. If you want me, all you have to do is ask,” he breathed into her collar bone and dipped his finger into her cleavage, stroking in and out.

  She shuddered. “I can’t—I shouldn’t.”

  “You can and you should.” He moved away and her fingers uncurled, stretching out for him. Reaching for him.

  He was a son of a bitch. He wouldn’t bargain with her for sex, but he would use her need nonetheless and forge a different bargain. He didn’t like himself, but then again, he hadn’t had the luxury of liking himself since he was very young. He had a job to do. And, when he was done, he had a debt.

  “Tell me your story, Cassandra. Why is your Gift shot? Why do you really want to know who I am? What do you remember? Tell me all that, and I’ll tell you something of mine.” His lips curved up. “And, after we’ve shared our information, we’ll do what we both want to do. We’ll go to bed. Free and clear of bargains, deals, and manipulations.” It was the best he could do. And he’d give her his best...once they made it to the bedroom.

  She moistened her lips. Something hot and needy roared through him. He wrestled it back down. She wasn’t someone he could lose it
over. She was just a job.

  “Three months ago, Prince Kian attacked and killed my parents. He killed everyone at the fortress, except for me. The queen’s forces rescued me. She’s not really my aunt, not directly.” She must have seen something in his face because she backtracked. “Oh, we’re related. At least, I’m related to her great-grandfather. It’s a pretty distant relationship, and if the prince wasn’t at war with his mother, I doubt she would even care if I was alive. But she needs an heir, and I’m the only one left. That’s why it’s so important I get my magic back. I can’t be queen unless the Black Court recognizes me as powerful. And right now, I’m not.”

  She stroked his thigh and his quad clenched. “Your turn.”

  “Not quite.” He had to stay on task, not let her distract him. He needed more information before he detoured off to bed with her. Then maybe he’d have an idea of where to start his search. “I want to know the rest. What are you holding back, Cassandra? Why are you so desperate to see under my glamour?”

  “I shouldn’t tell you, but I need to tell someone.” Her eyes were haunted. “I’ve been caught in something for months now, and when I talk to you...when I touch you, it all begins to fall away.”

  He scooped up her trembling hands in his. “What begins to fall away? Tell me, Cassandra. What is it that has you shaking.”

  “How can I explain it? I can’t even begin to explain it to myself. I don’t know what it is, what I’ve lost.”

  He pulled her in, holding her shivering body close. He wished he had the luxury of truly rescuing her, but she was a false princess and he knew it. False princesses didn’t get rescued, they were betrayed, arrested, beheaded.

  “I...I need to see you.” She wrapped her arms around him. “I need to touch you.” She worked her hands over his shoulders, kneading deeply. “Touch the real you. And maybe it will work.”

  “Maybe what will work? What do you think I can do for you?”

  “I almost remember when you touch me. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe it’s not you. Maybe I’ll never remember who I was before. But I need to know!” She leaned back. “Please.”

  The word hung between them and still he didn’t drop his glamour.