The Exile: Book One of the Fae Read online

  Today the painting showed the wildflowers in shadow, with only scattered beams of sunlight finding their way through the clouds above. In the distance, near the mountain, a huge storm was brewing. The clouds were thick and black, with the hint of dangerous green and yellow that spoke of hail; flickers of lightning could be seen.

  The unsettling image was not one Brianna had ever seen before. What was going on in Faerie that had her father so upset?

  David called from the bottom of the stairs, a welcome interruption. “Boss, the UPS guy is here.”

  “I’ll be right down.”

  Brianna glanced down at the laundry. She’d come back later to fold and put away the towels. It was a nice, mindless chore that would give her time to consider what might be bothering her father—and what, if anything, she should do about it.

  She wondered what was in the UPS shipment—probably the South American artifacts she’d ordered from Raymond Carter. David had some magical ability but was not skilled enough to test these particular items to see if they were as advertised. Besides, she’d been looking forward to this shipment for weeks. Brianna hurriedly locked the door, reset the wards, and headed downstairs.

  The moment she stepped away from the wards she felt a thrum of power from below. There was something truly special in that box. Thoughts of her father, nasty customers, and old rumors disappeared in a flash. She was as eager to open that package as a child on Christmas morning. That constant sense of excitement got her through the drudgery and paperwork that was so much a part of running a small business.

  Brianna took the electronic delivery tracking device from the UPS man and signed her name with a decided flourish before handing it back. As soon as his brown-clad back was out of sight she pulled a knife from her boot and began cutting through the packaging.

  Up close the power of the box’s contents was breathtaking, singing along her senses in a low thrum that rang through her body like the vibrations of a tuning fork. When Raymond had called to offer her this merchandise, she’d been half worried that the shipment would contain exotic but magically worthless junk. Normally she would have flown out to meet him, to check the quality. But time hadn’t permitted it. She’d been forced to risk trusting him, or pass on the shipment altogether. Now she was glad she had. He had come through for her, better than she’d dared hope. She dug through the packing peanuts with absolute glee, pulling out three separate items. The first two were stones—one infused with magic to attract prosperity; the other, for fertility. They were good objects but not exceptional. The last, an ancient stone knife, held the true power. Touching it stole her breath for a moment. It was … magnificent. Worth every penny she’d paid and more.

  Raymond Carter might have no magical talent to speak of, but he was the absolute best at procuring quality magical items. Occasionally Brianna wondered how he managed it. After all, he was a very modern American. He didn’t believe in magic or psychic phenomena. The only things he believed in were the almighty dollar and his own cleverness, and he had spent a number of years using the latter to make lots of the former by finding unusual items for Brianna.

  She was setting the artifacts back in the box when the bell above the shop door rang. Before she could even look up a chill ran down her spine. She turned to greet the woman who stepped through the doorway. Brianna didn’t know who she was, but she knew full well what she was—only the Fae had that level of power, and only a Sidhe would be using it out among the humans in broad daylight.

  Sidhe both look like the humans—and don’t. The differences are mostly subtle. No pure Sidhe has ever had a pimple or blemish. Most are tall and more slender than the average human. Their ears are ever-so-slightly pointed, their hands long-fingered. But the Sidhe glow. It was a power they used to influence others, or as a weapon to overcome another’s mind and will.

  The woman entering the shop was as beautiful as a warm dawn after the bitterest of winter nights, every delicate feature perfect, her hair spun gold, her skin flawless cream. Her eyes, the blue of a midnight sky, sparkled with a hint of starlight. Her suit matched her eyes, just as the silver silk blouse beneath the jacket matched that twinkle of starlight. The entire outfit had been tailored to emphasize slender curves and long, silk-clad legs.

  Brianna had been raised in the high court of King Leu, but even she wasn’t completely unaffected by the woman’s glamour. Undoubtedly every human her visitor had passed on the street had stopped, staring dumbstruck in her wake, their eyes gleaming with yearning awe.

  Brianna shook her head, clearing the cobwebs. The shine was one of the gifts of the Sidhe, a dangerous beauty that could lure the unwary into betraying all they held dear. Helen of Troy had been an exiled Sidhe.

  “Can I help you?” Brianna rose to her full height, keeping her voice neutral and pleasant. Her smile was even sincere. Few of her father’s people lived in the human lands. It might be pleasant to speak to someone from back home. And while there had been a time when she’d envied the pure-blooded their shining, that was long past. Her mother’s human blood and human magic gave her strengths and skills that a pure Sidhe couldn’t match, and enabled her to live comfortably and invisibly in the human world.

  The woman, who was studying the granite gargoyle standing between the front door and the picture window, glanced at Brianna for a moment before returning her gaze to the statue. The gargoyle was short and squat, his body as heavily muscled as a Rottweiler with a muscular tail ending in a sharpened barb. His back legs ended in paws with curved claws, his front, in something very close to hands. His face was both wrinkled and elongated, somewhat like a dragon’s.

  As Brianna watched, the woman held her hand over the statue’s head. Brianna felt the subtle surge of power as the newcomer tested the air surrounding the gargoyle, then gave a small, satisfied nod.

  “How much for the statue by the window?” the woman asked as she strode over to the counter, high heels clicking sharply against the tile floor. In one smooth move, she pulled the designer handbag from her arm, set it atop the glass display case, and opened it in preparation for payment. She was smiling, utterly confident.

  “He’s not for sale.” Brianna kept her voice neutral and calm. She didn’t want to get into a metaphysical shoving match with this woman. She might lose. On the other hand, Pug was her friend, and was not, under any circumstances, for sale.

  In the background Brianna saw David hustling the teenager toward the exit, the girl so stunned she moved more like a doll than a human being. The front door bell dinged, bringing Brianna sharply back into the moment.

  “I want it.” The woman bit off each word, pulling back her shields and turning up the charm until the glare was nearly blinding. If Brianna had been full human she’d have fallen to her knees and worshipped this glorious creature as a goddess—would’ve done absolutely anything to please her. Which was, no doubt, the point.

  The polite smile Brianna had been wearing vanished. She spoke softly, but clearly, putting a touch of force behind each separate word. “He is not for sale.”

  The blonde’s hand froze above the credit card she had set onto the countertop, her eyes widening. She gave Brianna a measuring look, taking in every detail of the shopkeeper’s appearance: the knee-high leather boots with silver bat-shaped buckles, the black suede trousers, the black brocade and lace top with a sweetheart neckline that accented curves that were not delicate enough to be Sidhe. She stared for a long moment at Brianna’s face, with features that were delicate, but not quite delicate enough. The coloring, too, could be Fae, or not: milk-white skin, waist-length hair that was true black with blue highlights.

  “Who are you?” the woman hissed. She said who, but it was clear to Brianna that she meant what. No ordinary mortal could have withstood her, and they both knew it.

  “Who are you?” Brianna glanced at the credit card on the countertop and saw the letters of the woman’s name blur, shift, and reform. One moment the card read Ivy Woods, then Brooke Rivers, then Heather Meadows.
Pure illusion, but as solid as the floor beneath Brianna’s feet. Impressive. Unethical, too, but the woman facing her obviously wasn’t the type to sweat that sort of thing.

  The woman didn’t answer. Instead, she turned up her power, creating a pure, brute force meant to crush Brianna’s resistance. It was breathtaking and cruel, and the Sidhe didn’t even appear to be working up a sweat.

  It was real work for Brianna not to show how badly that lash of power hurt, but she managed. Despite pain that burned across sensitive nerves beneath her skin, she managed to sound utterly blasé. “I’m the owner of this shop, and the granite gargoyle is not for sale. We do have several plaster versions of similar design—”

  The woman’s hand shot out like a snake, trying to grab Brianna’s arm. Touch would make the spell much stronger and more effective. Brianna stepped back, out of reach, and put up her best shields—just in time, too, as a blow of pure magic and will slammed into her defenses like a sledgehammer. The impact didn’t stagger her, but it came close. Damn, the bitch was powerful. Brianna was already preparing her return strike, but before she could release it, Pug leapt into the space between the two women.

  He landed with a crash. Sixty-five pounds of granite was more weight than the top of the display case could bear. Glass exploded outward—not toward Brianna. She’d had enough warning to redirect her shield. But the Sidhe bitch hissed in pain as blood from multiple cuts stained the silk of her suit.

  Her power flared blindingly. Through watering eyes Brianna saw the wounds healing, the glass slide free of the woman’s body to fall tinkling onto the floor.

  “You insult a guest.” The woman’s voice was an ice-edged razor.

  “No. This is a public shop. You asked for what you got. Now I suggest you leave.”

  The situation balanced on a knife’s edge. Brianna waited for the woman to say the words, to call for a true duel. She could see that the Sidhe wanted to—rage blazed in those midnight eyes and her bloodied hands were clenched in fists. Gritting her teeth, the blonde hissed, “This isn’t over,” before leaving in a blur of furious speed.

  “Wow! What was that all about?” David’s eyes were a little too wide as he stared at the shattered glass on the floor and the gargoyle busily licking up the pool of blood.

  Brianna sighed. “Sidhe bullshit.” She glared down at the gargoyle but held her tongue. He had, after all, earned a reward. Besides, there was never any point in admonishing Pug. He did what he did, and that was the end of it.

  David said, “I got the kid out of the shop before Pug jumped. She didn’t see anything.”

  “I know. I’m surprised you were thinking that clearly, all things considered.”

  He grinned. “One, I wasn’t the one she was focusing on. Two, I’m gay. Cut the attraction factor considerably.”

  Brianna shook her head. He was so wrong. Sexual preference means nothing to Sidhe power. The woman’s magic should have overridden everything. That it didn’t made her wonder, yet again, if someone in the Antonelli family tree was more than human. Not that it mattered. Unlike most of the Fae, Brianna really didn’t have any problem with it one way or the other. She saw and experienced more prejudice, brutality, and cruelty on the other side of the veil than she had ever run into here.

  “Boss, you’re fading out on me,” David observed.

  “Sorry.” Brianna smiled at him and forced her mind to focus on the here and now. “Just thinking.”

  “And not about anything too pleasant, judging from your expression.”

  “Perceptive, as always,” she admitted. It was one of his best and most annoying qualities and was probably part of why her mother had hired him five years earlier.

  Then, David had been a rebellious sixteen-year-old with an unhappy life. His father didn’t approve of the fact that his son was gay. Kids at school had been giving David a hard time. Life, in general, had sucked. His father had insisted he get a job to “keep him out of trouble,” but David had been turned down everywhere he’d applied—not surprising given his disaffected, sullen attitude.

  He’d walked through the door of Helena’s and Helena Washington had hired him on the spot, to his and Brianna’s surprise. David had come a long way since then. Gone was the gangly teenager, replaced by a man. Six feet tall and muscular, with dark brown curls kept just long enough to frame a face dominated by luminous dark eyes and a very kissable set of lips that were smiling more often than not. He had grown into himself. He was confident about his abilities both as the assistant manager and as an artist. And well he should be. He had brains and talent by the boatload.

  Today he was dressed in black leather pants with short black suede boots. His tight black T-shirt showed off every rippling muscle as well as the clear outline of nipple rings beneath the thin cloth. The edge of an elaborate Asian-style tattoo peeked out from beneath the sleeve of the shirt.

  “Why don’t you go in back and get online, see if you can find someone willing to deliver a replacement display case on a rush basis,” Brianna suggested. “I’ll clear up the mess and put away the new stock.”

  “Right.” As David turned to walk through the door to the office and storeroom Brianna almost stopped him to ask what he’d said to the girl to get her to leave. She stopped herself. David didn’t need her second-guessing him. He was good at his job, knew the drill. She was just being paranoid. The Sidhe bitch had shaken her. Brianna had lived long enough in the human world, away from her enemies in Faerie, that she’d let down her guard. It wasn’t a mistake she’d be making again. And it reminded her all too clearly just how dangerous it would be for her to go back home.

  2

  It didn’t take long for David to find a glass vendor willing to do an emergency repair. Once he had, she left him alone in the front part of the shop. He could easily manage any customers who came in and deal with the delivery, installation, and stocking of the replacement display case—including two of the new items. The knife, however, was going in the safe in back. Brianna might part with it sometime in the future, but for now, she preferred to keep it for herself. A knife like that would be a formidable weapon, operating as it did on both the physical and magical.

  Considering the morning’s attack, Brianna wondered if she should replace her regular boot knife with the new arrival. The blade of the stone knife was long and narrow—too long by far to be legal to carry. While the police didn’t harass her, they did pay very close attention. She tried not to break human laws without good cause and she didn’t want to use magic or illusion to mess with anyone’s mind unless it was absolutely unavoidable.

  Brianna continued mentally debating the issue as she looked around the back room. The front of the shop was all about appearances and customer comfort. The place was well lit, with the goods tidily displayed on shining glass shelving. Sparkling crystals, soft fabrics, and gentle music added to the pleasant atmosphere.

  The back rooms were her personal work area and had been remodeled a few years ago to her specifications. The main area was large and open, taking up the back half of the first two floors of the building. The long wall that divided this space from the shop itself was covered with shelving that held hundreds of books, ranging from modern paperbacks to very old, very dangerous, leather-bound volumes. The latter were kept on the highest shelves, hidden behind locked doors, a very effective guarding spell, and an illusion that made it almost impossible for them to be seen.

  Spell components were stored along the eastern wall, in a cabinet six feet long and twelve feet high. The cabinet’s “drawers” were clear plastic tubs; the smallest, in the top rows, were six inches wide and tall but twenty-four inches deep. The bottom bins were twenty-four-inch cubes. All were filled with various spell components. The cabinet ended at the door to the staff bathroom, which was right next to a tiny kitchen.

  A perfect circle had been inscribed into the main section’s floor while the concrete was still wet. Once it had dried, Brianna and her mother had painted it with designs that incorpora
ted the circle, making it look decorative. In fact, it was a circle of power and protection—which was why the work table stood in the center of it.

  This was Brianna’s place of power, where for years now she’d done her magic work. Here, she was safest—and strongest. Still, it would be foolish to let that go to her head. No Fae ever made an idle threat; nor would one willingly take “no” for an answer. Ms. Woods/Rivers/Meadows would be back, Brianna was certain, and the next time, she’d be fully prepared and loaded for bear.

  She looked at the knife sitting on the table in front of her. It was a pretty thing. The blade was hand-chipped obsidian, the hilt bone. Both the pommel and the joint of blade and hilt were encrusted with rough-cut turquoise and bloodred garnet. Picking it up, she checked the weight and balance as she ran through familiar knife-fighting motions. It felt good in her hand—almost too good, as if the knife were calling to her, as if it had a will of its own.

  That, more than anything, decided the issue for Brianna. She moved quickly over to the safe hidden in one of the kitchen cabinets and punched in the access code. Only when the knife was safely locked behind steel and wards did the pressure that had been building within her ease.

  That was worrisome, and definitely worth some research. Now that she realized just how dangerous that knife was, she knew better than to put it on sale; and she’d be on guard against its lure.

  In the meantime, she had other, more pressing dangers to deal with. Locking the door between the front of the shop and this back room, she returned to the table. Sitting on her usual stool she focused her energy, cleared her mind, and gathered her strength. In a few moments the stress and distractions of the morning drained away. Slowly her muscles relaxed and a sense of calm purpose filled her, peace and strength rising within until her body hummed with contained power.

  There were formidable protections built right into the building. Those spells were old, complex, and stronger than anything Brianna could manage on short notice. They made a solid base for her to build on. It was important that she, Pug, David, and Maxine were thoroughly protected. She didn’t worry about Mei. The dragon could, and would, take care of herself.