“I thought they were. There could be some that we missed.”
“Vervain, if Faerie has been seeping into the Human Realm for months, there could be—”
“Don't finish that sentence,” I cut him off and took back the pictures. “I don't want to panic prematurely. We don't know what's happening yet. Perhaps one of the paths reopened. Perhaps this is something else. Until we find out, we need to keep calm.”
“Yes, you're right,” Odin agreed. “Go to Faerie. I'll wait in here so they won't know you've left.”
Since Odin knew I was leaving, it wasn't breaking our rule. If anything went wrong, he would tell the others where I was. Mainly, I didn't want to alarm the children.
“Thank you.” I kissed him quickly. “And good morning.”
Odin chuckled. “Good morning to you too, sweetheart.”
I looked down at my Ring of Remembrance—a wide gold band with a clear oval, cabochon gemstone set in it lengthwise—and asked it to take me back to Faerie, a minute after I'd last left. My body tingled as magic rushed over me—a shimmering wave of power that swept me up and transported me through time and the realms. I became pure energy, my body vanishing and then reappearing at the foot of my bed in Castle Aithinne.
The mattress sat in a sturdy metal frame with elaborate posts hung with thick curtains—deep blue with golden stars. The last curtains hadn't burned (it happens often enough to note), merely been changed out. The bed linens matched the new curtains, in shades of blue and gold, and fluffy pillows leaned against the filigree headboard. But the bed was missing something. Or someone, rather.
Strong arms wrapped around me from behind and I was pulled against a solid chest. A bare, masculine chest.
“There you are,” a low voice rumbled in my ear. “I've been getting anxious.”
Did I forget to mention that the horny situation hadn't changed?
I pulled free of my husband's embrace—a bit like getting bread dough off my fingers—and turned to face him. Arach was naked and glorious. I couldn't help a quick glance down the sleekly muscled expanse of his body. All predator grace and power with the alien beauty of his race, Arach was a stunning man who was usually difficult to deny. But lately, difficult had turned into near-impossible. Arach oozed raw sexuality more than even Re did—and that was saying something. It was getting harder and harder to turn down his constant seductions.
Especially when he was so hard.
I groaned and returned my gaze to his face. “Stop!” I held up a hand when he started to reach for me. “I have to mirror King Cian.”
“Right now?” Arach growled with a pointed look at his erection. “You've just returned.”
“You were without me for precisely sixty seconds,” I chided and headed to the mirror. “Put something on, Dragon. I don't think the High King is going to be happy to see all your mama gave you.”
“All my... Vervain, I demand that you do your duty as my wife and see to my sexual needs this instant!”
I stopped and turned to face him with my oh-no-you-didn't expression.
His angry face faltered. “I mean—”
“Did you just demand that I have sex with you?” I cut him off. “As if I were property?”
“I... well...” he stammered. “Damn it, Vervain, I'm in pain!”
I let out a startled laugh. “I'll get to you in a minute, okay? This is important.”
“What could possibly be more important than this?” Arach waved a hand at his shaft—rock-hard and weeping.
“Will you just put on a robe or something?” I snapped.
“Fine,” he snarled, smoke trailing out of his nose, and snatched a pair of pants off the floor. He pulled them on as I went to stand before my vanity's mirror.
I rubbed some eyebright over the glass and called out, “High King Cian.”
By the time the mirror's reflection shifted into the image of the High King of Faerie, my husband had gotten fully dressed and stood at my side. Thankfully, the vanity's chair blocked his lower half. He may have been clothed but nothing could hide his aroused state. Arach may not have been hung like a horse but he was hung like a dragon. Or Dragon-Sidhe, rather.
“Queen Vervain,” King Cian said warmly, “how are you?”
King Cian's snowy hair hung loose around him, past the view of the mirror. He only wore a tunic—no royal robes or cape over it—and his pale skin didn't just shimmer gold but also had a rosy flush to it. I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously and his golden eyes widened innocently.
“I've had some disturbing news, King Cian,” I announced. “I... uh, are you all right?”
Cian cleared his throat. “Yes, of course. What is your news?”
“More fey flowers have been seen in the Human Realm. Specifically, in England.” I held a photograph up to the mirror.
“What?” Arach growled.
“What?!” a feminine shriek came from Cian's right and Queen Meara stepped into view, dressed only in a silk robe. Her crimson hair—a shade nearly identical to Arach's—hung wildly around her.
“Ah, I see,” I murmured. “I'm so sorry to have interrupted.”
“It's no matter; we've been having sex for days. I'm sure we'll survive a short intermission.” Meara waved her hand dismissively as she drew closer to the mirror. “What's this about fey flowers in England?”
“We need to check the paths again,” I said as Arach snatched the pictures from me. “Either one of them reopened or...”
“Or we have another leak,” Cian said pensively. “I will send my wayfarers out again, Queen Vervain, but I think we need to attack this problem from both sides or both realms, as it were.”
“I agree,” Arach said as he looked up from the pictures. “We need to send faeries to the Human Realm to investigate.”
“And to retrieve or destroy the fey flora,” Cian added. “If I send my son with some wayfarers will you accompany them, Queen Vervain?”
“Yes, of course,” I said immediately.
“And I will join my wife,” Arach declared.
“Shouldn't you stay here to help the wayfarer when he returns?” I asked Arach.
Arach frowned.
“Look, we're a few days behind the God Realm. Or, rather, the time I came from in the God Realm,” I pointed out. “Which means that if I trace to the Human Realm with Lugh now, I'll probably be there before Jake arrives in England for his vacation.”