A muscle leapt in its jaw. “That is not all I have been, Gabrielle. I have been, and am, many things.”
“Oh, of course, silly me, I left out consummate seducer and ravager of innocence.”
Its eyes narrowed. “I have not ravaged yours. Though I smell it on you. And though I could with little effort, as I am twice your size.”
Oh! Surely it couldn’t smell that she was a virgin, could it? A mere technicality, at that. Flushing, she snapped, “And what guarantee do I have that you won’t?”
A dangerous smile sparked an equally dangerous glint in its eyes. “None. In fact, I guarantee you I will. But I’ll grant you this pledge: When I do, it will be because you’re asking it of me. Standing in front of me. Asking me to fuck you.”
Its words slammed into her like a brick wall, almost knocking the breath out of her, as it had meant them to. It had masculine intimidation down to a fine art. She inhaled sharply, preparing to snap back, to deny, to insist it would be a cold day in hell, but it surged up from its chair and stood, towering over her.
“Enough. Do you intend to aid me or not, Gabrielle?”
Gabby swallowed hard, sifting frantically through her meager options. Damn it all, if she helped it, she just knew she’d end up taken by the Fae. There was no way they’d let her walk away free. No way. They hadn’t spent thousands of years hunting down and destroying the Sidhe-seers, only to let one go now. Especially not one young enough to spawn a whole future line of Sidhe-seers.
And what if they decided to take her mother too? What if they refused to believe Jilly truly didn’t possess the vision she’d bequeathed to her daughter? Happily remarried with three stepchildren, her mom would never forgive her! Not that they had the best relationship as things stood, but she had no desire to make things any worse.
And what if, discovering that she’d eluded them—that they’d been wrong about the last of the Sidhe-seers being wiped out—the Fae began to hunt them again in earnest. Gabby had no doubt that somewhere in the world there were others like her, hiding, keeping their heads down, trying to live normal lives. There were entries in the Books of the Fae that made vague reference to other bloodlines similarly cursed, claiming that once there had been many. Gabby wasn’t fool enough to think that only the O’Callaghan women had figured out how to survive. What if her betrayal caused them all to become persecuted anew? If even one other Sidhe-seer was ferreted out and captured because of her, she would bear the responsibility for their grim fate.
What a mess she’d made of things!
I give you my word, it had said, I will protect you. But Gabby’d not been raised by Walt Disney, she’d been spoon-fed fairy tales of the darkest kind since birth. She was incapable of trusting it. And even if, by some bizarre chance it actually meant what it said, it couldn’t defend her against the queen. Aoibheal held the throne above all four Houses of Fae royalty, and wielded the greatest power of all. If Aoibheal wanted her, Aoibheal would get her. Period.
She had no choice but to fight and resist until the bitter end.
Bracing herself for its rage, for whatever awful thing it would do to her once she asserted her refusal, she tipped her head back, and back more, to meet its imperious gaze.
“No. I’m not going to help you.” She sucked in a shallow breath and held it anxiously.
It stared down at her an interminable moment, gaze inscrutable, saying nothing, doing nothing.
And she waited, nerves strung like tiny wires being ruthlessly pulled by a puppeteer to near-breaking point.
She braced herself to be hit. She fully expected it to hurt her, to attempt to coerce her with physical violence; perhaps even just short of death, and she prayed she would be strong enough to endure. It was a fairy after all. It had no conscience, no soul. She expected it to do whatever it had to do to get its way.
She expected anything but what it did next.
Inclined its head.
Bent to her feet and untied them.
Reached its powerful arms around her, its gold armbands cool against her skin, its silky hair brushing her cheek, its spicy scent enveloping her.
And freed her hands.
As she sat, too confused and afraid to move, it stepped back and rose to its full height, a faint smile playing at its firm, sensual lips.
And vanished.
7
Gabby went to work.
Running on zero sleep and pure nerves, fueled by an icy shower, two Starbucks double-shot espressos, and a need for normalcy, any normalcy.
Maybe her life was falling apart around her ears, but she could pretend it wasn’t.
Besides, despite her exhaustion, she knew she’d never be able to sleep. She was too on edge, too afraid of what it was going to do next, for she had no doubt that it would do something. Had she remained at home by herself, she would have driven herself crazy, her overactive imagination conjuring an endless array of hideous fates for herself.