Cold touched her, and then an emptiness that sucked at her soul. A void, horrible, clammy, and desperate, like fog with a determination to siphon off her life force.
Rhianne wanted to gasp for breath, but feared to breathe at all, not wanting to draw the chill denseness into her body. Her chest burned, and she prayed to the Goddess it would be over soon.
Her lungs were bursting. She had to breathe, had to, even though it might be her death.
The cold abruptly vanished. Rhianne landed on something warm that smelled of wool, and light touched her eyelids. She opened her eyes to find herself on her side on a carpet, Ben sprawled next to her.
The light—morning light—came from open windows, sunshine streaming into a large room with wooden panels and strange furniture. A small black chandelier hung from the white-painted ceiling, and it swayed slightly as she gazed up at it.
Ben rolled over. They lay face to face for a moment, Ben’s eyes like the dark of an ancient night.
His face was hard, but not unpleasant, handsome even. One side of his strong neck bore an inked drawing of a spider’s web, the ends of the web touching his cheeks. Rhianne had seen tattoos before—dokk alfar liked them. She’d never found them attractive, at least, not until now.
After a few heartbeats, Ben pushed himself away from Rhianne and climbed to his feet. He reached down to help her rise, the strength in his grip welcome.
“You all right?”
Rhianne, on her feet, brushed off her shirt and trousers, which were beyond saving. Her hair was also grimy, clumped with ooze and stinking of the dungeon.
“Where are we?” she asked. “Is this a dokk alfar house?”
“No.” Ben wouldn’t meet her eyes. “It’s a human house. Kind of a weird one … no offense.” The last statement wasn’t spoken to Rhianne, but to the walls.
“A human one.” Rhianne stated the words slowly. “I’m in the human world?”
“Yep. Sorry.”
Rhianne glanced around the room. It was a pleasant space if unfamiliar, the furnishings odd but comfortable-looking, the air warm. The breeze coming through the half-open window smelled humid, almost musty.
Rhianne’s heart squeezed in fear and banged dully in her chest. She was alone, in the human world, far from anything she understood, at the mercy of this man. And she had to stay here because her own father presented so much danger that she couldn’t go home.
“It’s all right.” Rhianne’s throat closed up. “I’m fine.”
She took a step and her legs buckled. Rhianne fell, but Ben’s powerful arms caught her, holding her with his strength, his warmth the only comfort in this place.
Chapter Three
Ben didn’t mind that his arms were full of soft woman, even one that smelled like a sewer. Her own fragrance was there somewhere, but overlaid with filth from her cell, sweat from the run through the woods, and fear.
He should be terrified of a daughter of the all-powerful Lady Aisling and the equally petrifying Ivor de Erkkonen, but Rhianne was shivering against him, her head on Ben’s shoulder, her wrists bearing welts from the cuffs that had bound her. She’d been jerked out of her world and thrown to a place she didn’t know, and this after being captured and locked up in a dark, disgusting cell.
“You’re okay now.” Ben tried to sound soothing as he stroked her back. “No one will harm you here.”
The house would keep her safe—if it decided to. Ben glanced at the walls and ceiling, sending the house a silent admonition.
Rhianne relaxed for a brief moment, then stiffened. Ben started to carefully release her, but she hung on to him for another few seconds. One of the Tuil Erdannan, the most powerful beings in Faerie, clung to him, Ben, for support.
“How about you get cleaned up?” he suggested to Rhianne. “We have several nice bathrooms upstairs. Your choice. One has a whirlpool. Another a shower with four or five heads, so it’s like standing in a rainstorm.”
Rhianne wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand as he released her “You think I need a bath?” Her mouth shook in a watery smile. “What gave you that idea?”
The smile made Ben’s heart stop. This woman was stunningly beautiful. Ben’s breath had gone somewhere, and he choked as he tried to get it back.
Her smile vanished, brow puckering. “Are you well?”
Ben coughed. “Inhaled too much Faerie gunk. So, the bathrooms. Upstairs. I’ll see if I can find you something to wear.”
Closing his mouth so he wouldn’t babble too much, Ben led the way out of the sitting room. The door to Faerie, which had been in the paneled wall behind them, had utterly vanished.
Rhianne followed, her mud-caked boots squeaking on the polished wooden floor. The house rustled softly, the wind chimes on the porch emitting a silvery sound.
“Is this your house?” Rhianne asked as they mounted the stairs. The crystals on the ponderous chandelier that hung between the turns of the staircase tinkled as the chandelier swayed ever so slightly.
“Nope. I’m its caretaker. The owner is a sweet young human woman who is a little bit witchy and mated with a Shifter. No accounting for taste, I guess.”
“Shifter?”
“You know. Tall, crazy eyes, change into animals whenever they want. Some humans think they need a full moon or something, but no.”
“I know what they are.” Rhianne’s touch of impatience made her sound like the Tuil Erdannan she was. “I’ve never met one. I hear they are very dangerous.”
“Very. I mean, seriously, seriously dangerous. Make great friends and drinking buddies, but I never forget how savage they can be.”
“Why are you a caretaker? Where is your fortress?”
They’d reached the top of the stairs. Ben huffed a laugh. “Gone. I’m in exile here, have been for a long, long, long time. I can go back to Faerie now, thanks to your mum, but there’s nothing for me there. I thought that once I could return I’d find some closure, but …” A knot tightened in his chest. “Everything has changed, and my people are gone …” Ben trailed off, realizing he’d said too much.
Rhianne gazed at him with her black-brown eyes, framed with thick black lashes. Red-haired Shifters or human women usually had light-colored eyelashes, but not Rhianne. But then, she was a super-all-magical Tuil Erdannan. Maybe they could have eyelashes whatever color they wanted.
“If you’ve lived in the human world for so much time, you could have built a fortress,” Rhianne pointed out. “Or a house like this. Which is clearly not a fortress. Too many windows.” She glanced through the one on the landing, which looked out onto the thick trees behind the house. Sunlight glistened on her hair, despite its dirty tangles.
Ben shrugged. “I like to move around, meet new people. Plus, humans in general live less than a hundred years. If I stay in one place longer than, say, fifty, they get suspicious. I remember when they burned people who were odd recluses, blaming perfectly innocent, magic-less souls for all kinds of troubles.”
Rhianne’s eyes widened. “Seriously? And you want me to hide out here?”
“Don’t worry,” Ben said cheerfully. “They stopped burning people a few hundred years ago. Mostly.”