And then Chloe had stumbled upon Dageus, or rather been stumbled upon by him, while he’d been holed up in a luxurious penthouse in Manhattan, searching ancient texts, trying to find a way to free himself from the thirteen evil souls possessing him.
Gwen had thought Drustan mentally unbalanced when she’d met him, with his talk of time travel and curses.
Chloe had thought Dageus a nefarious thief and hopeless womanizer. And she’d come to find out that he was possessed by purest evil.
Both had taken chances with their hearts, immense chances, against immense odds.
And both were deliriously in love, happily married, and living a dream. A dream that had tugged painfully at her heart when Gwen had brought her tiny, beautiful dark-haired twin daughters in to nurse, and Chloe had blushingly confided that she was expecting too.
And she’d not missed Adam’s part in Chloe’s happiness. Chloe had told her all that had happened in those dusty catacombs: about the showdown with the sect of the Draghar, how Dageus had taken a mortal wound in the process of defeating them and saving her. How she’d thought she’d lost her Highland love forever, and would have, if Adam hadn’t given of his own life force to bring him back from the brink of death and see him returned to her.
That bore a lot of fascinated pondering in Gabby’s mind. Just what motives had he been driven by? What thoughts had been going on in that beautiful dark head, behind those timeless, ancient eyes? What deep, unspoken feelings? Why would he stir himself to return a human man to his human lover? And at such a price?
For Chloe had also told her that Dageus had confided (when he’d finally come to bed for a few hours early that morning) that the reason Adam had been punished by his queen was because of his intervention to save the MacKeltars.
It was yet another thing he’d not told her—refusing to answer when she’d asked him twice before—but she could hardly blame him, because she’d not have believed it then.
She believed it now. And that knowledge was doing crazy things to her heart.
Now more than ever she wanted to know—who was Adam Black? Who was this big, underdisclosing, intensely sexual, surprisingly gentle Fae who seemed to spend more time with humans than with his own race? This Fae eminently capable of force, who never forced? This Fae who’d taken a stand for humans against his own kind?
More important, was all that fierce, guarded emotion in him reachable by a mortal woman?
That was the question that was making her feel shaky clear down to her toes. He was looking like every inch her fantasy prince. And it was scaring the hell out of her.
Before the afternoon was over, Gabby told her story in its entirety as well. It had been impossible not to. Gwen and Chloe were women who’d endured their own epidemics of otherworldly events; there’d been no need to hold anything back. Being a Sidhe-seer was only a moderately unusual thing from their perspective; it hardly even signified.
She’d told them how she’d been raised to fear the Fae, how her mom had left because she couldn’t deal with her having the vision, how Gram had raised her, taught her to conceal her “gift.” She’d told them what the O’Callaghan Books said about the Fae, and about how wrong she’d realized those books were—at least about Adam.
She’d told them how she’d given herself away that night she’d seen him, how he’d tracked her, and the many things he’d done since.
She’d finally admitted the fear she’d not, until that moment, admitted even to herself. That she would somehow survive all this, fall head over heels for him, only—unlike in her teenage fantasies—there would be no Happily-Ever-After. He would regain his immortality, secure her safety as he’d promised, then return to the Fae realm, and that would be that. After all, the universe would again be his oyster and, in the cosmic scheme of things, Gabby knew she was nobody’s pearl.
It would be Game Over. Time up. No extended play. Just the haunting taste of an all-too-brief fairy tale left on her tongue, ruining her appetite for reality forever.
Well, first of all, Chloe had said gently, I think it’s too late, sweetie; you’ve already fallen.
Gwen had nodded agreement. But, second, and most important, Gabby, she’d said softly, the question you must ask yourself isn’t, will you get a Happily-Ever-After? The question you need to ask yourself is, will you be able to live with yourself if you don’t let yourself have a happy-now, and end up having had nothing at all?
19
Gabby took her time with her hair and makeup that evening, a luxury she’d not been able to indulge for days. While they’d been traveling and sifting about, on those rare occasions she’d glimpsed a mirror—usually during a quick duck into a public rest room—she hadn’t liked what she’d seen, so she’d not lingered. But tonight she had the assurance that they were on safe ground, there would be no unceremonious dips in lakes or falls from steeples, and she was determined to look good for a change.