The Winged Fae (The World of Fae) (3 page)

Deveron finally shrugged. “Did you kiss her?”

“Did I kiss
who
?” Niall asked the crown prince, his voice rising in irritation. He thought maybe the drug had affected his thoughts because surely Deveron couldn’t have asked him such an inane question about the winged fae. Niall kissed lots of lion fae, but Deveron already knew that, and he couldn’t have had that thought in mind when he asked the question.

Again, Deveron’s mouth curved up in a smug smile. “We thought that’s maybe why she only paralyzed you. Well, knocked you out because you’d kissed her, but didn’t kill you because she somewhat liked your kiss.”

Niall frowned at him. “Why would I kiss an osprey fae who was painting graffiti on one of
our
walls?”

“You kiss all kinds of fae.”

“Only of the Denkar kind.”

“And she was beautiful.”

“She was trespassing.”

Deveron didn’t say anything, but he looked too amused.

“All right, so why do you think I kissed her?”

“You were wearing a fae’s shimmering pink lip gloss on your lips—the only kind that can be seen when the lights are out, sparkling like shiny sprinkles of faery dust—a sure sign that you had kissed a female fae. No Denkar fae would admit that you had kissed one of them before your untimely drugged state, so we have to assume you kissed the winged fae.”

Niall closed his gaping mouth. Goddess above, he’d thought he’d only dreamed the winged creature had kissed him. He barely remembered her lips pressed against his, serious, too. As if she was making a point. Not soliciting his response. Soft, warm, and—

“Well?” Deveron asked.

Irritated, Niall scowled at Deveron, hating that he’d hound him in this way. He wanted to recall more of the kiss, now that he realized it had been real, not a figment of his dream–filled imagination. But he couldn’t recall anything further if Deveron continued to question him. Why couldn’t he let it go?

However, Niall had to set the prince straight. “I…
didn’t
kiss her.”

Not that he wouldn’t have wanted to kiss her back if he’d had the strength. If she’d wanted him to. Or, even if she hadn’t. It was her fault for being in their territory without permission. And for kissing him when he couldn’t respond in kind.

But the winged fae’s kissing Niall put a whole different light on the situation. Why would she have kissed him? Because she felt sorry for having knocked him out? Or was it a case of her attempting to make him look foolish with his own kind? He didn’t feel foolish in the least, but more than intrigued.

With a devilish look as if he knew better, Deveron smiled. “Sorry to say that no one will believe you. The rumors have already spread to the sphinx and turtle fae kingdoms by now. You were trying to kiss the winged fae, managed a good deal, too—as evidenced by how much lip gloss you were wearing, so it wasn’t a really brief, barely–there peck on the lips—and she shot you with sleeping dust. Good thing she wasn’t carrying around the more lethal dust. Although, knowing their kind, she probably had it concealed in another hidden pocket. Maybe she even got the two mixed up and meant to use the other.” Again, Deveron smiled.

Niall couldn’t believe the tales that were spinning wildly through the kingdoms over the mischievous fae’s actions. That brought a new thought to mind, not one that he liked at all. Maybe she did this just to prove to him that she’d had the situation well in hand. Which meant, he had been powerless to prove he was in control. And by kissing him, she’d let the whole fae world that might learn of it, know so.
Devious fae
. She had sealed his fate. It would take forever to live this down.

His head pounding with frustration, Niall scowled. “
She
kissed
me
, not the other way around.”

At once, he regretted his words. It sounded as though she’d had him under her power. He certainly hadn’t been in any shape to take advantage of the situation. But
he
was the dark fae in his
own
territory and
should
have been the one in charge!

The smile disappeared from Deveron’s face. “Really?” Then he grinned. “The story gets better and better. Sleep, Niall. My mother will be a terror when she returns and questions you. Best if you’re well rested before that happens.”

“Did you…did you decipher what she was trying to say?”

“It’s in a language none of us have seen before. Our educators are searching the books for clues as we speak.”

***

Never in a millennium would the Denkar suspect Serena would return to the scene of her crime as she invisibly watched through a beachfront store window across the street as five scholarly—looking fae dressed in their royal blue robes, studied her graffiti–covered wall. She had changed into her royal fae gowns of pale blue silk and matching ballet–like shoes, since no humans would see her this time.

What were the dark fae scholars doing? The message was perfectly clear.

But the way they scratched their heads and conversed with one another for so long made her think they didn’t know what she’d said.

Like her, they were invisible to the humans and had already had to deal with a couple of human painters wearing white jeans and T–shirts who had tried to whitewash the concrete block wall. Before one of the painters could climb a ladder to reach the top of the wall, one of the Denkar toppled it. Another knocked over one of the opened cans, splattering the white paint all over the sidewalk.

She smiled, thinking she’d have done the same thing in their place to stop the humans from painting over her message.

Both men cursed almost as good as a pissed–off fae could, but they looked unsettled, too. Which was the fae’s whole purpose in messing with them as if they were a ghostly presence to be reckoned with. They would force the humans to leave the wall alone, one way or another.

The fae could have photographed the wall, but they normally didn’t use human cameras to take pictures of objects or subjects. They lived too long to be bothered with saving hundreds of thousands of pictures that they could take over the years, and what would they need with photo albums? Or why would they gather about on Facebook and show off their photos? Although many were on Facebook to play tricks on the humans. They borrowed pictures they loved to use as their own, too, when they felt moved to do so.

But the fae lived for today and for tomorrow. So no sense in keeping pictures of the past.

Besides, physically observing the actual wall might give the Denkar clues they’d otherwise miss. For one, they couldn’t see Serena’s dust trail in a photo.

She studied the wall and wondered if she’d used the wrong fae language in the message. She was always mixing up the symbols in the languages, which was probably due to trying to study too many at the same time, even a couple of them that were considered dead languages since the fae who had used them no longer existed. She was the only one in the family that even attempted to learn of the other written languages, finding them fascinating. Her kind thought the rest of the writings were inferior to their own, so why try to learn anyone else’s? But if she was to play with the other fae, she wanted to leave a message in their own language.

Only, she guessed this time the game was on her.

Fine. She’d try it again. Different wall, different spot near the beach. And this time she’d write it out on a piece of paper beforehand to ensure she got it right, then transfer the message to the wall.

Bringing her attention back to the store Serena was standing in as she watched out the big picture window, she heard a clerk say to a woman trying on a beach dress near the dressing rooms, “Oh, yes, that looks just lovely on you.”

Serena turned around to see what looked so lovely on the woman and stared at the ugly monstrosity—the dress, not the customer. Although anyone wearing the dress would instantly look nearly as awful—the gauche colors, the hideous billowing sack, the ragged edging on the sleeves and hem of the dress as if the seamstress had forgotten to hem it.

Her faeness coming to the forefront, like a ventriloquist, Serena threw her voice, making it sound close to the clerk almost as if she was the one speaking again and said, “That is the most hideous—looking dress in the store. The color makes your skin look splotchy and sallow. The style, if it could be said to have any style at all, adds a hundred pounds onto your weight.”

If that didn’t do it, nothing would discourage the woman from buying the dress. Yet, Serena loved the gaping look on the customer’s face, and on the store clerk’s, too, and couldn’t let well enough alone. Although if she’d been truly in a mischievous mood, she would have encouraged the woman to buy the goddess–awful dress.

“Not only that, but it looks like something you dragged out of a rag bag. The colors clash in such a horrible fashion that they wouldn’t look good on anyone, no matter—”

A hand seized Serena’s shoulder, and she was so startled, she shrieked.

Chapter 3

“She’s in the dungeon, clamped in fae irons so she cannot use fae travel to escape,” Deveron informed Niall, who still didn’t have all his wits about him as he rested in his bed only half awake.

The last time Niall had felt this bad, he’d been drinking tequila at one of the lounges in South Padre Island and had lost count of the number of drinks he’d managed to get down while flirting with a human girl.
Big mistake
. The girl had laughed at him, not with him, and he’d suffered a hangover the size of the Denkar’s kingdom. He had
never
planned to repeat that folly.

He stared groggily at the crown prince, who was wearing a black tunic and breeches, his golden medallion on full display, a warning to whoever he met that he was serving in his lion fae princely role.

“What?” Niall asked, not comprehending the matter at all.

“
The winged fae.
Come, come, Niall, snap out of it! You’ve had another half a day to sleep and though several of our people have questioned the girl, none can get a word out of her.”

The winged fae was in the dungeon?

Deveron continued speaking as if Niall fully understood everything he said. “Since she kissed you, maybe you can wheedle something out of the pixie.”

Not likely.
Niall truly believed the fae had kissed him to mark him, to further humiliate him, knowing her lip gloss left shimmering fae sparkles on his mouth, which would reveal all. Unless of course he’d said
he
was the one to have kissed the girl, then let her deny that! If he hadn’t been so out of it when Deveron had questioned him earlier, Niall might have done just that.

But it was too late for making up tales.

Deveron folded his arms, looking as imperious as always. “You were right though. She is beautiful in an impish sort of way. Oh, and by the way, hidden in the gowns she wore today, she did have the toxic powder hidden in another pocket. I imagine she had both with her the last time. I truly do wonder if she meant to use that on you and not the other.”

How could the prince believe
that
when the girl had kissed Niall? Then he saw the gleam in Deveron’s eye and knew in his dark way, he was teasing him.

“Do get dressed and I’ll see you shortly below stairs.”

Deveron stalked out of the room and one of Niall’s manservants entered. “May I help you dress, my lord?”

Niall scowled. He needed to sleep! Not get dressed. Not speak with the fae. After what she’d put him through, he wanted to strangle her! If he could only summon the strength to get out of bed.

Feeling like he’d been run over by a fae cavalry, he finally managed to dress and tried to look like he was walking with fierce purpose and determination, even though he thought he might be listing to one side a little. He didn’t think his stride was quite as intimidating as it usually was. At least the way the servants peered at him with concerned expressions made him think so. One or two of them looked like they wanted to reach out to steady him, but when he scowled fiercely at them, they quickly kept to themselves.

He was not in the need of assistance or coddling.

By the time he’d made his way down the massive marble steps to the main floor, he was ready to grab the nearest satin–covered lounger and collapse. Sweat beaded on his brow from the exertion, and more concerned courtiers watched his every step as if afraid he’d falter at any moment.

All because of one winged fae! Payback was hell. He’d make sure of it.
If
he could stay awake long enough.

When he finally had managed the narrow winding stairs into the dank dungeon, the smell of creosol torches and musty damp air assaulted him. Served her right to be stuck here in one of the cells.

He hadn’t had the need to come down here in eons, and he was glad for it.

He noticed four Denkar fae prisoners lounging on their cots in the separate austerely furnished cells, all male. Female fae, although cunning and devious, usually were more subtle in their pranks and didn’t get incarcerated as often.

Each of the men looked him over, sure to wonder what Niall was doing down here.

The males in the cells had committed various infractions from the theft of ancient artifacts at one of the digs in their kingdom, to disobeying the queen’s ruling on making mischief in one of the Denkar’s related minor kingdoms. Some fae thought if they were members of the major kingdom, they could get away with pulling shenanigans on the fae of the minor kingdoms. Although it depended on the time of year, just like some humans celebrated April Fool’s Day or All Fool’s Day. Even the Romans had celebrated such a day known as Hilaria and in medieval times in Spanish–speaking countries, the Festival of Fools. The fae kind had set a couple of days aside for tomfoolery as well. As long as the trickery wasn’t too severe, then no problem existed.

Niall recalled the history lessons concerning the fun–loving fae from the various kingdoms, who had descended on the human populations all over the world in ancient times, to begin the All Fool’s Day tradition. One of his favorite lessons was concerning the trickery that a fae concocted whereby several humans arrived at the Tower of London to observe the lions being washed. Or the one where the Swiss had learned of a way to eliminate the dreaded spaghetti weevil and were producing a bumper crop from spaghetti trees.