Through Time Series: Boxed set

By Claudy Conn

Picking up where the Legend series leaves off, the Through Time Series
pits humans and Seelie Fae against the machinations of the Dark Princes.
Fueled by a desire for revenge and a thirst for power, the Dark Princes
have discovered how to use time itself to achieve their goals, and no
realm—human, Milesian, or Fae—is safe. Contains all five books in the
series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Claudy Conn
• Release date: Mar 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310057649

Claudy Conn

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Claudy Conn is a multi published author who got her start with her bestselling historical/regency romances.She tells us that she fell in love with the fantasy/paranormal genre and created a world of paranormal.She hopes you will read and enjoy and join her on her facebook where she loves to interact with her readers.page.http://www.facebook.com/pages/Claudy-Conn-Paranormal-Romance-Author/135826686471445

Book preview

Through Time Series Box Set

Books by Claudy Conn

available at smashwords.com

Witches, Warlocks, and Dark Magic

Dark Love

Netherby Halls

Lady X

Journey

~

Hungry Moon Series

Hungry Moon: Quicksilver

Hungry Moon: Destiny

Hungry Moon: Jodi

~

Legend Series

Spellbound—Legend

Shee Willow—Legend

Prince in the Mist (Novella)

Prince Prelude—Legend

Aaibhe—Shee Queen (Novelette)

Trapped—Legend

Free Falling—Legend

Catch & Hold—Legend

~

Through Time Series (time travel)

Through Time-Pursuit

Through Time-Whiplash

Through Time-Slamming

Through Time-Frankie

Through Time-Compulsion

~

Shadow Series

ShadowLove—Stalkers

ShadowHeart—Slayer

ShadowLife—Hybrid

~

Risqué Regencies

Myriah Fire

Oh, Cherry Ripe

Rogues, Rakes & Jewels

Taffeta and Hotspur

Wildfire Kiss

After the Storm

Runaway Heart

Lady Bess

Lady Star

Serena

Mandy

Disorderly Lady

Madcap Miss

~

Multi-book Bundles

The Complete Legend Series

Claudy Conn’s Bestselling Regencies

Through Time Series Box Set

By

Claudy Conn

Copyright Page

Through Time Series Box Set

By Claudy Conn

http://www.claudyconn.com

Copyright © 2015 by Claudy Conn

Edited by: Karen Babcock

Cover Artist: Kendra Egert

All rights reserved

Published in the United States of America

Smashwords edition

March 2015

Through Time—Pursuit

Copyright © 2015 by Claudy Conn

Through Time—Whiplash

Copyright © 2015 by Claudy Conn

Through Time—Slamming

Copyright © 2015 by Claudy Conn

Through Time—Frankie

Copyright © 2015 by Claudy Conn

Through Time—Compulsion

Copyright © 2015 by Claudy Conn

Excerpt of Journey

Copyright © 2015 by Claudy Conn

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Names, characters, and events depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

Contents

Through Time Series

Books by Claudy Conn

Title Page

Copyright Page

Through Time—Pursuit

Through Time—Whiplash

Through Time—Slamming

Through Time—Frankie

Through Time—Compulsion

Excerpt: Journey

About Claudy Conn

Read more about Claudy Conn’s Books

Through Time—Pursuit

Through Time—Pursuit

By

Claudy Conn

Copyright Page

Through Time—Pursuit

By Claudy Conn

http://www.claudyconn.com

Copyright © 2015 by Claudy Conn

Edited by: Karen Babcock

Cover Artist: Kendra Egert

All rights reserved

Published in the United States of America

First edition, 2012

Second edition, March 2013

Smashwords edition

Third edition, March 2015

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Names, characters, and events depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

Dedication

To my Street Team for everything they do!

Contents

Master Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

~ Prologue ~

~ One ~

~ Two ~

~ Three ~

~ Four ~

~ Five ~

~ Six ~

~ Seven ~

~ Eight ~

~ Nine ~

~ Ten ~

~ Eleven ~

~ Twelve ~

~ Thirteen ~

~ Fourteen ~

~ Fifteen ~

~ Sixteen ~

~ Seventeen ~

~ Epilogue ~

Revenge is a fervor in our own blood,

to be cured only by letting the blood of another

—Charles Caleb Colton, Lacon

~ Prologue ~

Chancemont LeBlanc

Present day

ALL AT ONCE—he was on her! The Dark Prince Pestale had the Death Sword across her throat, and if her brother moved another step toward her, it would only end in getting her killed.

Chancemont LeBlanc stood rigid and filled with fear for his young sibling, Lana.

And then, right before his eyes, the Dark Prince, grinning all the while, slit young, sweet Lana’s throat, and she was forever lost to them.

Thunder rolled through his body then—rolled through it still. His sword vibrated in his hands, feeling his need.

He wanted blood, the Dark Prince’s blood, and he wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything else in his life.

Fury took over his despair and buried the pain of grief with the hope that he would soon have the Dark Prince in his grip and torture him before he put an end to the Dark Fae’s miserable existence. Sorrow—deep, haunting sorrow—filtered through to his heart and blinded him with the all-consuming need to avenge his young sister’s death. Guilt shouted out his faults and blamed him for her death—but guilt was a waste of time. He replaced that guilt with purpose and became centered in his goals.

Find Pestale, capture Pestale, and drag him to Dravo, where he and his father could inflict pain and punishment on him before putting him out for the buzzards to feed upon.

Thoughts of his father off alone and mourning in silence made him cringe. His father would never get over this loss. He was the Milesian leader, Morgan LeBlanc, a big man that his people on Dravo relied upon.

His da—who could have passed as Chancemont’s brother, so young was he in appearance—was lost to drink and self-inflicted solitude. Who could blame him?

His da, who had always been a force in Chance’s life, was broken by this final loss. And rage filled Chance as he made his plans. Milesians were an immortal race—not born that way, but created by the dust from the Fae world of Danu when that world was destroyed. The dust had come through the portal that brought the Fae to the Human Realm.

Now, their joint loss of Lana would hurt them through eternity.

She was the only daughter, a reminder of the great love his father had for Chance’s mother, lost so long ago. Sweet Lana, his bright-eyed baby sister who had not yet reached maturity, with her entire immortal life ahead of her—until Pestale.

Revenge? Someone once told him revenge could be sweet. He wasn’t certain that was true, but he shouted to the winds, Revenge canna bring back her laughing eyes, or her dear voice … His own voice trailed off, because he needed revenge, for without it—without revenge—he could not attain justice. To Chance the two walked a straight and parallel line.

His father had stopped drinking when he realized what Chance was going to do. He had grabbed him by his shoulders and shook him. Do ye think I can lose another? Doona go, Chance …

Da, he must not be allowed to live.

Chance, me own best hope … doona go …

It had nearly stayed him, the distress on his father’s face, but the need to avenge his sister’s murder was greater. I must, Da. Ye know that.

His father had sighed with acceptance and had talked to him for hours. He told him to be cool-headed in his pursuit. He said with tears in his eyes that revenge and justice were two different things.

Are they? Chance asked the sky, "Are they different? I doona have the answer to that, but I do have my immortal skills, m’magic, and my Death Sword. It will take all those things to find the devil, to lay hands on him. He is a Dark Fae Prince, the eldest of his brothers—the most cunning of them all—and I will have his blood," he vowed to the heavens and himself.

Two days had passed since they had lost Lana to Pestale’s death weapon. Two days since they fought beside the Seelie Fae to bring down Gaiscioch and the Dark Realm’s monsters. Two days, and Pestale remained alive.

Chance’s thoughts were violent as he spoke to Pestale as though he were there. "There is nowhere ye can outrun me. I will track ye to the ends of the earth—and beyond if necessary. I have shouted it to the heavens, I am Chancemont LeBlanc, and I shall have yer filthy Dark Fae blood!"

Young Seelie Prince Trevor had joined him in this mission, and they would soon make tracks. He couldn’t deny the Seelie Fae his place with him. How he had objected to Lana’s little romance with the Fae prince, in no small part because Trevor was the younger brother of Prince Dante. Chance and Dante had fought on opposite sides of the war thousands of years ago, and though Fae and Milesians were no longer enemies and had in fact joined forces recently against the Dark Fae, Chance held no love for his former foe and no wish to see his sister falling for a member of the Royal House of Lugh, Dante’s brother no less! Now he wished she were with him … flirting up the lad once again. Och, but he could hear her laugh …

He berated himself. If only he had kept Lana on Dravo … in chains—it would have taken chains to keep her from the fight, for she had been too headstrong to listen. He should have foreseen this; he should have spelled her home.

The war with Gaiscioch was over. The Human Realm was safe for the time being. The two remaining Dark Princes had been returned to the Dark Realm, where they would forever remain imprisoned with Queen Morrigu.

Gaiscioch was dead—his evil but a recent memory—but Pestale had escaped and was somewhere in the Human Realm.

It rode him hard and drew blood that Pestale was free. Chancemont’s determination went beyond purpose, beyond thought, and took him to a place where all he knew was his need for justice.

So, then, Chance had become a hunter.

He would capture the evil prince, and he would make his demands before he put him out of his misery—for he would keep him there, begging for death until he said Lana’s name.

And so it began.

~ One ~

Princess Royce of the House of Nimrough

ROYCE!

Trevor! She turned and tried smiling in spite of what she knew she was about to face on the other side of the door she had her hand raised to. Trevor was one of her closest friends. What are you doing?

Long story—but I guess you know about … about Lana, he said grimly.

My brother told me, and I am so sorry … She watched as his jaw stiffened and his face suddenly looked older. He must have fallen hard for Lana LeBlanc.

She reached out and petted his arm but said no more. She didn’t think he needed words. He gave her a crooked smile and sighed heavily. I am off to meet with Chance, and then we will find the devil …

"Yes, Trev, but I heard that he is the oldest of the Dark Princes and very cunning—you watch your back, she cautioned, recalling an incident where he had been braver than he had been wise. She touched his face. Trev … he can move in and kill you with the same sword he used on— She didn’t want to say the name and see the pain in his eyes and quickly changed her warning. He is ruthless, and you are not."

He may be cunning and ruthless, but I am a Seelie Prince of the House of Lugh. Danté taught me everything I need to know, and what he didn’t teach me, Breslyn did. You can rest assured that I am totally equipped as a Tracker and a warrior, he said with a superior tone.

This pronouncement made Princess Royce laugh. You are pretty darn proud of yourself, she said affectionately and was pleased to see him crack a genuine smile.

Sounded pompous, huh?

She made a show with her thumb and forefinger. Just a little … but I know if anyone can do it, Trev, you can.

He patted her on the shoulder. Thanks and good luck, yourself. He indicated Queen Aaibhe’s chamber with his chin. "I heard you’ve been called on the carpet again, for your wayward ways. He smiled and shook his head. You know, she once sent Breslyn into the middle of the ocean floor and took away all his powers …" His eyes teased, and he flicked a long tress of bright red hair before her eyes.

She pushed her hair out of her face and touched him, for she was genuinely worried this time. She knew he would not totally understand; Trevor did not care for humans. However, he would sympathize with her all the same. Instead, he released a bark of laughter.

Don’t worry—she probably goes easier on her princesses.

Not this time. Royce sighed. I didn’t just bend the rules, Trev—I exploded them.

I heard, he said softly and then added as he twirled another strand of her long hair and flung it across her nose, It’s okay, Red—you couldn’t help it. Don’t know why these humans draw you in so completely, but she knows your state of mind is compassionate and as wild as your fiery disposition, so don’t worry, she won’t banish you.

He smiled and shifted off, and Royce took a long drag of air and blew it out slowly. She entered the queen’s chambers, and there she was—Aaibhe, Queen of the Seelie Fae.

The queen held her fingers pyramided, and she looked to Royce like she was … what? Royce couldn’t tell. She tried to see what those brilliant, iridescent eyes held—controlled fury? No. Was it disappointment? No … ah, determination. The queen had most certainly made up her mind to handle the situation differently than she had in the past. Uh oh—trouble, Royce thought as she closed and then reopened her eyes. At least she’d remembered to change her jeans and tee for a pretty blue silk dress and had blinked her hair into a thin gold band that held up the long strands on the top of her head in the style she knew the queen preferred.

The queen smiled softly, patted the chair next to her own, and murmured, "Sit, my Princess, and do not hesitate—explain yourself."

My Queen, Royce started to say as she sat. First, allow me to point out that the child wasn’t dying. Hence, it wasn’t as though I was bringing him back to life … The words she had just blurted sounded absurd even to her, but it was the truth, at least as she saw matters. She immediately observed the queen’s reaction and stopped any other words that wanted to tumble from her lips. Instead, she folded her hands together in her lap and tried again, more calmly. What I am trying to say, Queen Aaibhe, is this: I did not really infringe on the path of destiny … and even if I did a little, it was totally necessary because he would not have been in that awful and unacceptable situation—well, it was in essence, our fault, wasn’t it … I mean—

"Our fault? The Queen of the Seelie Fae raised her lovely brow and interrupted. How so?"

The Dark Fae escaped because we couldn’t stop them from doing so. One of those sinister monsters chased young David, reached for him, and the child stepped backwards into the street. He was hit by a car and would have been paralyzed for the rest of his life. Our fault.

I see, Aaibhe said so quietly Royce almost couldn’t hear her, and then she asked, So, then, my Princess, do we make it our business to round up any humans that survived an attack by the Dark Fae but are in critical condition and heal them? Is that what you are suggesting?

No, I know that is not possible, although I wish it were. I know we can’t reveal ourselves to the general population, but in this case I was right there! I saw it happen, and before I could do anything to stop it … She shook her head. David and his family are friends of mine, and I have a great affection for them … and … I … I couldn’t …

"You were there because you were involved with a human family—and overly involved and attached to this child. It put you in a precarious situation. You lent your aid without permission, you risked exposing yourself and us to humans, for what? So that you could heal the boy. I am not without compassion, my dear. I do understand. I do see it all very clearly. The question is do you?" Aaibhe said grimly.

I am their friend—they don’t know that I am a Fae … let alone a Fae princess. They didn’t know that David’s injuries were serious. I healed him before they knew anything. They simply did not realize anything untoward had occurred.

"Let me understand your point of view. Are you saying that when we happen to be on the spot … and a favored human is injured, we may heal them without taking precautions or worrying about the repercussions?"

No … that is not what I am saying. Royce pleaded with her eyes and hoped her queen would understand. "These were extraordinary circumstances. The Dark Fae were our responsibility, and they escaped because we didn’t keep them contained. They were loose—killing and maiming—and David was there, right before my eyes, and he would have been crippled all his little life and …"

And as I have said, I quite understand—do not think I don’t—but what I want to know, because I am your queen and must discern your reasoning, is did you give some thought to what it would mean to the future if you healed him?

I … no, there wasn’t time. Royce hung her head and then raised it. Besides, we can never be sure what is destined and what is not. Perhaps there was a reason I just happened to be there when this took place … perhaps I was meant to heal him?

You have this all worked out then, have you? the queen said with a cluck of her tongue. Then with pursed lips she took Royce’s chin in her hand and made her look into her eyes once more.

I … didn’t think about anything else. He is a child, and I care for him, Royce pleaded.

Of course you did, and I do believe you know that when you broke our rules, rules that were put in place out of necessity and after great consideration, you walked the edge of danger with regards to the workings of our beliefs. We Fae understand that tampering with the fates is a serious act. Aaibhe clucked briefly and then added, Your parents are concerned about your obsession with humans, and unlike Prince Breslyn, you don’t have the maturity and experience to deal with the intricacies of ‘breaking the rules’.

My Queen … she started. His fate should not have been determined by the Dark Fae.

Aaibhe put up a hand and halted her from speaking. I have asked you to sit in on Council meetings with Aida and Ete as your guides. Do you not care for them?

I adore them. They are like older, wiser sisters … well, Ete is. Aida is just so much fun—

And still you do not attend the meetings, the queen said, clearly reproving her. What am I going to do with you? You need to mature, Royce. You need to take your place on the Council.

The Council meetings are so boring, and I am not interested in politics. She sighed and studied a work of art across the room.

Duty sometimes is boring but nevertheless necessary. The queen waved off any answer her princess might give, and it was clear that she was becoming impatient with her. So, because the Trackers and our Royal Houses are overtaxed rounding up the stray Dark Fae in Ireland and Scotland … and even England—

Yes, my brother said some have escaped to England, and he went after them this morning, Royce stuck in, hoping to show that she was in fact concerned about the situation.

Indeed, and we are even working with the Milesians, one in particular, Chancemont LeBlanc. The queen inclined her lovely head. "I know that you have heard something of that tragic story."

Yes, Trevor has just left me to join the Milesian in the effort of tracking and capturing Pestale.

Precisely, my Princess. The queen rose from her seat. She stood a moment before she turned in place. Royce watched her with dread. Here it comes, she thought.

"As it happens, Princess Royce, I have decided to make you a part of their team. You have specific and extraordinary abilities that they might find useful."

"Me—my punishment is to team with Trevor?" Now this was beyond wonderful, Royce thought, almost clasping her hands together. Is this what she calls punishment?

The queen’s iridescent eyes narrowed, and one delicate brow rose. Do not think you have gotten away with your misbehavior. Indeed, little one, I am putting you in grave danger. It is time you stopped playing mother to these humans and began the business of being who you are—a Seelie Fae princess. She waved off Royce’s objection and silenced her with a glare. This is a mission that you must execute with purpose and determination. It is time you wake up and realize your duty to your own kind. I need you to open your lovely eyes and recognize what is important in the large scope of things. The queen sighed and then added, This will not be easy, child. Chancemont will not want you to accompany them, and he will not welcome you. If you wish to carry out your queen’s orders, you will have to prove yourself to him, and I expect that you will find a way to do so.

Royce was so relieved that the queen was not relegating her to the middle of a mountain without power to get out—she had heard enough stories to worry about this—that she almost jumped up and hugged Queen Aaibhe. However, she checked herself and bowed her head. Yes, my Queen … I will do as you ask.

~ Two ~

The Dark Prince Pestale

DAMN, HOT DAMN, I like this Earth, and these humans make excellent subjects, the Dark Prince said out loud before glancing at the pretty human in his bed. He stood naked next to the window overlooking the busy street below.

He smiled to himself and walked back to the bed, bent, and fondled the young woman’s full breasts. I wish my brothers were here with me to share you … lovely thing …

Oh, yes … oh, call them … tell them to join us, she said on a husky note.

He laughed. I only wish it were that easy. A hard look took over his dark features. Soon—it will be soon.

Are they as handsome as you? she said, crawling on her knees to touch his cock and lick its length.

Yes … each in his own way. He held her head and pushed himself into her mouth, worked her hard and fast, and then even as she choked on his largeness he went off to the sound of his pleasure. He removed it from her mouth and allowed his seed to drip over her breasts. Rub it on your nipples.

She was already his, ruined for all else but sex. She would never recover from the Lianhan sexual addition. She did exactly what he asked and smiled for him.

He moved away from her and went back to the window. The Queen of the Seelie Fae had vowed to find him and return him to the Dark Realm. He sneered to himself. Let her try …

He wasn’t about to allow the Seelie Trackers to capture him and return him to a dead world, not now, not when all of the Human Realm lay before him, ready to devour.

He was fairly certain he would rather cease to exist.

So, he kept a force of dark magic surrounding him as he evaded their efforts to find him. He didn’t think of it as running from them but rather simply staying free until he could find a way to accomplish his plans.

He was pleased with his efforts thus far. He had given them a merry chase, almost doing circles around them as he used his black magic to disguise his scent. He was nearly impossible to track.

He thought of Gaiscioch—Gais, who was nothing in the end but a mad fool. Gais had become obsessed, and that obsession had ruled his actions. Now Gais was dead. It was what Pestale had planned for the Seelie traitor all along. He had just been biding his time, but then the Seelie Fae put an end to him.

Pestale felt so much above what Gaiscioch had been. His goals were clear-sighted and not driven by obsession. While it was of paramount importance that he free Morrigu and his two remaining brothers, he would not give up all for them.

It was as simple as that. He would do what he could—he would leave no avenue untraveled, no corner unturned in his efforts to free them—but should a choice have to be made, he would always choose self-interests first.

If he had to choose between his freedom and theirs, he could and would forsake them.

He’d often thought about himself in this wild Human Realm where so much was put into two categories—good or evil—and had concluded that he was not evil. The Seelie Fae had labeled him as such, but he’d decided that his actions were reasonable. He was, after all, a superior being, a Royal, and just as humans destroyed insects that annoyed, he had the right to do the same—and there were so many he considered them no more than insects.

However, a complication had definitely arisen. That complication had begun the moment he had seen her and had grown into a yearning he had never known was possible for him to feel.

She had stood there in the midst of a screaming horde of humans during the close of Gais’s war two days ago. Her flaming red curls blew around her stunningly beautiful face. Her magical aura and her delicious scent wafted to him on a wave of something emanating from her—was it emotion?—yes, he felt the vibes of her uncontrolled emotions, and he couldn’t look away from her.

And then he saw the child—a boy on the ground—and the Dark Fae creature, one of his own in fact, retreating from her. She didn’t take the time to chase and kill it. Instead, she said the child’s name and bent to him.

He watched as she invoked the Féth Fiada and rendered herself and the child invisible to the crush of people running in all directions. Although a Dark Fae, Pestale was a Fae, and the Féth Fiada had no effect on him.

He frowned, wondering why she had not given chase to her enemy—the Dark Fae who ran for its life. As a Seelie Fae, she should have run the creature to earth, yet she stayed with the unconscious boy.

The beauty intrigued him. In fact—he could not look away.

He stood unblinking as he watched her, mesmerized by her loveliness and the force of her ‘emotion’, a thing he did not possess. He saw the grace in her lines and her movement. He saw her vitality. There was purpose about her, an aura that glowed with her essence—and he knew he had to have her.

He drank in the vision of her alabaster skin, which was perfection, and her lips—damn, but he immediately wanted to kiss those lips right then and there. He wanted to scoop her up and make her his own on the spot.

A short cry had escaped her, and the sound of her voice thrilled him as she repeated the child’s name, David, while she stroked the boy’s face. He thought of her touching him like that, stroking his face, and even two days later he could recall how his hard-on had throbbed for her.

People had been milling about, but no one saw the two on the ground. The driver of the car that had hit the child was looking around himself like a man crazed. He had seen the boy go down, but there was no sign of him. He repeated over and over, He ran right in front of me …

Pestale watched a tear roll down the beautiful Seelie Fae’s cheek as she laid hands to the child’s many wounds and heard her say, "Forgive me, my Queen …" as she clearly broke the Seelie Fae rules and healed the child.

He immediately wanted her for himself. Here was a Seelie Fae who did what she wanted regardless of her queen’s wishes. He liked that a great deal. He didn’t know her name, and he didn’t know how he would find her, but her image played with his mind. She was the one—the one he knew he had to have for all time … or until he wearied of her.

However, he had to keep on the move for his scent to stay disguised. He had seen both Danté and Breslyn just the night before, and he was certain those two would be difficult to evade once they figured out how he was disguising his scent.

She was a princess. He had seen the gold torque around her neck with the etchings of her Seelie House—Nimrough. And although at the time he’d had to make his retreat, he had decided beyond all doubt that he would find her and make her his own.

He had shifted away, keeping the pleasure her scent gave him in his memory. He had shifted away, but her face was there …

From that moment on, he had thought of her constantly. Even when he took his pleasure with the pretties he had taken to his bed, he thought of her.

He sighed to himself. The humans were a source of sexual relief, but he needed more; he needed the redheaded Seelie princess, and the time was coming when he would search her out and take her.

He thought of his father, the Dark King, whose powers were untold. His father could put an end to all of this and imprison him with the blink of an eye, but he knew the Dark King could not be bothered to leave his precious world, where he and his Crystal evolved together. So much for interference from them!

It amused him that Chancemont considered himself the hunter—that he, a Royal Prince, should be the hunted.

He wanted to stand and fight the Milesian and display his exceptional warrior skills, for he knew himself to be a worthy opponent. However, he meant to pick the time and the place and the method. Then he would lay the Milesian low … him and that young Seelie Fae prince whose woman he had killed.

Yes, he’d killed her with the Death Sword, and he had no regrets about it.

Regret—such an odd word, he thought. It had no viable meaning for him, and he had no use for it. He had done what needed to be done at the time.

He had wondered at first why they’d sought revenge. The Milesian woman’s action had called for his action: she had killed his favorite brother; thus, he’d killed her.

It was over. Done—as the humans said: an eye for an eye … a life for a life.

Now what he needed to concentrate on were his goals. He would design a dimension of his own. He was equipped with the power and the magic to do so. He had watched the Dark King play at just such a thing, and he had memorized the spell and the knack of it. Now, he would make use of what he had learned. His father—his oh, so great Dark King father—had never meant for him to have the skill to accomplish what few others (save the Seelie Royals) knew how to do. He would have to draw on a living dimension, which would of course die—as would all its inhabitants—when he usurped what he needed. No matter.

He would bring his redheaded Seelie princess to his new dimension and make her his consort, and together they would free his Dark Fae brothers and the Dark Fae creatures, also in some macabre way his brethren, and rule Earth as it needed to be ruled.

She would help him in this endeavor because in the end, by any means available to him, he would make her worship him as her mate!

For now, however, he had to attend to his immediate needs, and thinking about the beautiful Seelie princess had made him hot. He looked at the human woman spread out so lusciously across his hotel bed. She had served to assuage his needs. She was of course ruined. She would never be satisfied by any one male. She would never get enough sex, and in the end, she would die.

He spoke softly to her. You want to please me, pretty—don’t you? He moved to her and fondled her plump breasts, teased a pink nipple, bent his head, and licked it as she groaned. He came up to whisper as he bent her backwards once more, That’s right … you want to take care of your prince …

Yes … anything you want … She pursed her lips for his kiss.

He looked at her and thought, Lovely. When he was done with her, the kind thing would be to kill her. But for now, he wasn’t done. He moved into a sitting position, pressed up against the cushioned headboard, and said softly, Get on it … kiss it, lick it, suck on it again. He watched her scramble eagerly to do his bidding. He closed his eyes as her mouth worked his dick and he held her head, making her glide up and down its length faster and faster still.

All at once, he growled hungrily, pushed her onto her back, and rammed into her. He worked her furiously, roughly, assuaging his lust, but he thought of the pretty redheaded Seelie princess, which brought him to a resounding climax.

He wasn’t done though; he had just shot off his load, but he was a Fae, ready almost at once to give it another go. He picked her up, set her on her hands and knees but this time on the floor, and rammed into her butt.

His thoughts were, I am Pestale, the Dark Prince, and I shall have everything I want!

~ Three ~

PROVING HERSELF TO Chancemont was going to be so much harder than she had at first anticipated.

Princess Royce stood with her feet apart and a hand on her denim-covered hip. The temperature in Dravo was warm, so she removed her denim jacket and slung it over one shoulder. She looked around, fascinated by the ongoing busy scene. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, and it was completely captivating.

This was the world of the Milesians.

She had heard all the tales about them, none of them any good. The Seelie Fae still resented the Milesians and weren’t pleased about the Treaty.

She also knew they were immortals; some in Faery said it was by accident, others said it had been by design. She rather thought, as she looked around, it had been a combination of both.

Their treaty with the Milesians, who had been their enemies in the war where they fought to keep the occupied land now known as Ireland and Scotland, had been in effect and respected by both parties for thousands of years.

After the Treaty, the Milesians found they could no longer live amongst mortals and had created Dravo … and this world was absolutely nothing like what she had expected.

Rolling green hills outlined the sky in the distance. Past the town she could see farmland. She turned in place and realized she was standing at the curbing of a small and charming park in the town square.

People of all ages milled about laughing, seemingly ordinary as they went about their business, but what was not ordinary was the fact that some groups of young and old wore clothing of modern times, while others were dressed in fashions of bygone eras. What was not ordinary was the fact that clippity clopping horse-drawn carriages occupied the same hard gravel roads as automobiles.

Two eras stood out as dominant—medieval and modern—and yet they cohabited in peace and harmony.

Houses and shops lined the paved streets of the town, and people were clothed in anything and everything.

She had opened and closed her mouth more than once as she contemplated the scene when a hardy laugh and a finger under her chin made her turn sideways and look up into a handsome young prince’s face.

Red! What are you doing here? exclaimed Trevor with a wide grin.

The queen … she answered on a heavy sigh.

The queen? He frowned. Never say you have to do some kind of penance in Dravo? That doesn’t make any sense.

She laughed and shook her head. Penance, yes, but not in Dravo. I have been assigned to you and the Milesian Chancemont on this quest of yours to find the Dark Prince Pestale.

Trevor’s face was drawn with concern. He shook his head. "No, that can’t be right. This isn’t your battle."

Apparently the queen thinks it is. She said I might be helpful, and she is anxious to have Pestale routed out and captured so that she can return him to the Dark Realm before he does any further harm in the human one, Royce answered again on an unhappy sigh as she continued to take in the scene around them.

No, Trevor repeated. "Red—you can’t mean it—she didn’t actually think you would be able to help us?"

She took instant umbrage and folded her arms across her chest with her jacket tucked in under her arm. Excuse me, Trevor?

"Well, you never took your warrior training seriously at all, did you? When it came to jousting, hand-to-hand combat, and such, you always cried off. Royce, you can’t really fight."

She relented. It was true. She had never enjoyed participating in the actual contact fighting that went on. Well, as to that, perhaps I didn’t find it as wonderful as you did, but I did take it seriously, and you are wrong about me. I had quite a few combat sessions, with Breslyn in fact. When he heard I was worried about taking another Fae student on and possibly hurting him, he offered to help me out and taught me how to control my Royal powers. She put up her chin. And he said I did very well, in fact. She gave him a superior smiled. And then, I didn’t need to keep practicing the same skills every single day … had other things to do.

But, Red, you don’t even have a Death Weapon, do you?

She pointed her open hand into the air above her head, and her Death Sword appeared. She closed her fist over it and said, What do you think this is? My brother has my father’s sword, and I have my mother’s. She sent it off once more.

But … look at you. You aren’t even dressed for this—jeans and sneakers!

She looked down at herself. What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed? Her hand waved over his leather vest that he wore over a brown tee, with leather pants and sandals. I’m dressed just as fight-perfect as you.

You don’t look intimidating, he scoffed. You look like a human—a schoolgirl, he added on a laugh.

What, and you think that you look intimating in that leather outfit? You look like a hunk on the make—nothing more. She snorted.

His well-shaped brow went up. A hunk? Really? And then he appeared to remember his argument and stuck out his chin. I am a warrior, dressed in the leathers of a warrior. You … well, Red, you look like a young and inexperienced Fae—if it weren’t for your torque, I wouldn’t even notice that you are a princess. He shook his head. Pestale will laugh if you pit yourself against him dressed like some human teenager!

Unconsciously her hand went to the gold torque around her neck, a sign of her royalty. She often forgot it was there. She sighed and silently conceded that what he was saying had a ring of truth to it. She often dressed like a human, toned down the iridescence in her eyes, tried to fit in with them. She loved humans. She understood them and had unwittingly tried to mimic them. Did that diminish who she was, she wondered. At any rate, she waved this aside. I don’t intend to challenge him. I mean to help you and the Milesian in other ways—like finding him, for instance.

I am proud of being a Milesian, said a strong male voice at her back. But I have a name, and ye may use it when referring to me.

Royce looked around and saw a huge, muscular, amazingly handsome male, naked to the waist but for a leather strap across his chest that held the Death Sword sheathed at his back. He like Trevor also wore leather pants—in fact, she thought with her mouth dropping, he wore them very well!

The next thing she knew she was picked up by the waist and brought up close to his body. She stared, stunned for the moment. His blond mass of thick waves blew around his face in the breeze, and his tattoos were intricate and spoke of a mixture of dark and light magic. As his blue eyes scanned her own, her brain jumbled into freeze position and went blank—totally blank. She could think of nothing to say, certainly not ‘unhand me’, she realized later. No, those words never came to mind.

He was virile, his voice was deep and intoxicating, and he was in command of himself in a way that gave off sensual vibes.

The princess tried to recover and cleared her throat. However, at that point in their meeting he picked her up cradle-like in his strong arms, and she had to hold onto his neck for balance. She freed one finger and pointed it at his nose as she told him, Put. Me. Down.

Ye doona want me to do that, do ye, Seelie Fae?

I do and now—right now!

He laughed, set her on her sneakered feet, looked her over, and laughed again. She felt her cheeks fill with heat and avoided meeting his gaze as she bent to pick up her denim jacket, which had fallen during their meeting.

Och aye, if ye point that sweet peach at me ye’ll be finding yerself in m’arms once more, lass, he said on a low and husky note.

She unbent and gave him a scalding glance as she held her jacket to just below her breasts, which drew his eyes to her breasts. She felt hot all over.

This is Princess Royce, stuck in Trevor, shaking his head over this and frowning. "Apparently our queen has asked that she tag along and … er … help us."

"Help us? She be no more than a slip of lass! Help us," scoffed Chancemont.

I am a Royal Princess, and I am more than capable of lending a hand! Royce stood up to the Milesian in spite of the fact that he made her feel unlike herself. In fact, he made her insides quiver, which was she thought very uncomfortable.

The next thing she knew she was in his arms and they were shifting. There was no time to object, but she realized at once that the Milesian mode of shifting was different than a Fae’s. She didn’t like it.

It was a rocky ride, and she held onto him. However, she scarcely had time to consider in how many ways she didn’t like their form of locomotion before she blinked and discovered he held her firmly on a bed of smooth green grass. Judging by the array of colors, extraordinary foliage, and extremely unlikely wildlife milling about, she knew they were in quite another dimension.

Let go of me, and where are we!

Aye, take a good look about, lovely Royal Princess. This is where ye belong … at a place like this, with a man, ready to pleasure ye …

She made a fist and punched him in his rock-hard stomach. Milesian strength was comparable to Fae strength, and he didn’t flinch. Frustrated she said, How dare you! Silently she marveled at her stupidity. How dare you? What was she—from a medieval time?

He ignored it and said, "Ye should be back in Faery. Ye should be doing … lovely things with yer lovely … He took her fingers and put them to his lips, brushing them with his lips, and she felt her eyelids get lazy. He moved further down her hand to her wrist, placed a warm kiss there, and whispered, … with yer lovely hands. Ye should leave the battle to the warriors who know how to stay alive."

I … I … She was trapped in sensation. His kiss on her fingers had sent shooting stars through her brain, frying all meaningful thought. She was momentarily stunned but refused to admit her overwhelming sexual attraction to this big, blond he-man.

She had to get it together, she told herself, and tried speaking once again. Don’t speak to me like that. You have no idea what I am capable of doing. Perhaps you and Trevor will be pleasantly surprised.

He grinned a superior grin, and she wanted to slap it off his handsome face. Before she could put thought into action, however, his mouth managed to find her lips, and that was the end of all logic for Princess Royce.

His tongue teased her bottom lip and then entered her mouth and tasted her waiting tongue while one hand went to the nape of her neck and drew her closer. She found herself meeting his thrusting, oh so delicious tongue with her own. She found herself bending to his touch, melting against his body.

What are you doing, Royce? A voice inside her head attempted to bring things back to order. Shut up, another voice answered. She didn’t know she had so many females in her brain!

His kiss lasted, or had he moved it into kiss two without her realizing? All she knew was that she wanted the kiss to go on and on. She wanted this feeling to continue to cover her and keep her, and she was damn sure she had never been kissed like this before.

When he released her, his hand moved from the back of her neck down her spine, sending tingles of wondrous shivers through her body. His hand went further, grabbed hold of her ass, and pulled her into him with a gruff, determined movement, and he whispered hungrily, "Now that, wee beauty, is what I want to do with ye. That is what ye be made for. So doona ask me to make ye a part of a team out to do one thing, kill … ye weren’t made for killing."

A part of her ‘thinking’ brain conceded silently that he was right. She had never wanted to kill anything, but she knew she had the skills to help him and Trevor find their foe. She could help with the finding.

"I … I don’t mean to fight, though I will if needed. What I can do is all about the tracking … I have special skills for tracking," she whispered.

His hands went to either side of her head. He took fistfuls of hair, raising the tresses up and then suddenly dropping them as he let go and stood back. His voice was low and husky and made her body silently moan for more of him. Lovely, he said.

Stop—you have to stop and take me seriously. She made a valiant attempt to get matters in hand.

He ignored this and took her back into his arms, bent his head, and kissed her hard and long, and she allowed him. Hell, she thought, it was as though her body begged him to kiss her.

It was true; she just had never experienced anything like him before. He was larger than life and full of himself, yes, but with good reason, and she was on sexual fire. It was time, wasn’t it, that she found herself in that position?

All she knew was that she was totally aroused in body, heart, and mind and wanted more. However, she was made of sterner stuff and managed to pull out of his hold.

Enough. I can help, and I am going to help—get used to it.

Ye are helping. Giving pleasure to a warrior … is a great deal of help, Chance said huskily.

It is amazing how the wrong words can reverberate in the air until you can hear nothing else, she thought as she replayed his words. Give pleasure to a warrior? That was how he saw her—just for pleasure? Well, maybe that was how Milesian females allowed themselves to be perceived, but she was a Fae, a Royal Fae at that, and proud to be a female and an equal! Chance’s words woke her from the dreaminess of his kiss and set her on her own two feet.

She snapped to and pushed away from him. Maybe it is you that should be staying home and pleasuring yourself. Here you are dallying with me when you should be using my skills to help you find the Dark Prince!

A bark of a laugh twisted out of him, and he took her wrist and pulled her up hard against his body. She gave him a fierce look, but everything he did sent slivers of anticipation through her. He brought her inner being to life and to the fore.

She took matters in hand and shifted them both back to Dravo. Even as they stood in the village square, even as she sensed Trevor bearing down on them, she did not break the stoic look she still glared Chance’s way.

Trevor shouted irritably, What the hell?

Remind your big friend here that I am a Fae princess and do not appreciate being whisked off and manhandled, Royce said, her chin up even as she broke away from Chance and moved towards Trevor.

"It is what ye were destined for … manhandling. Chancemont grinned, unabashed. However, he put up a few fingers and waved to stall her response as she spun around and looked daggers at him. He said softly and just to her, Ye shouldna be tagging along with warriors. Ye will be in the way, and I will no have yer blood on m’hands."

It won’t be on your hands, big man! she snapped at him. "If I am so stupid as to allow anyone to harm me, it will be on my hands—mine alone. And I am every bit as much a warrior as you!"

He made an impatient sound and bent to look into her eyes of variegated aqua. "Ye be a slip of a woman, nothing more, when it comes to the Dark Prince. He’ll chop ye up and serve ye fer lunch, he will, and I’ll no have it! Chance raged at her. I doona want another Fae underfoot. I already have more Fae at me side than I want."

Hey! objected Trevor.

However, no one was listening to him as the two in the heated argument stared one another down.

Do you? Royce asked with her chin high. "But this Fae— She jabbed herself with her finger. This Fae knows where Pestale is—do you?"

She had dropped this bomb into his hands and immediately began trying to formulate a plan. She hadn’t quite told the truth. She saw out of the corner of her eye that Trevor had taken a step forward and that his face was more than grim.

Doona lie to me, seethed Chance.

She is telling the truth, Trevor said to him. "She has special abilities—the sight being one of them."

Chance stopped dead and took her hand in a firm grip. Where, then, lass? Speak ye now, and we’ll see about the rest later.

You are wasting time. Either I am a part of this, or I go after Pestale alone, she answered.

We’ll talk about it after I see what ye can produce, Chance said slowly.

Then come on, I’ll take you there, she said. Oh, she thought with some trepidation. She certainly knew where Pestale had been. She had seen him in her vision in a hotel suite.

She had been disgusted to see him making love (if that was what you could call his rough sex play) to a pretty human who would be forever changed. She had also witnessed his departure in her vision.

She knew where he had been and that he had only just left. She had gotten a glimpse of the hotel’s name, Hotel Inverness, over the door when he had looked back. He was in Inverness—in Scotland. She could see his smile just before he shifted away. He was hidden within the folds of black magic—a black magic that was consuming whatever essence he once had.

He would not be there when she led them to the hotel, but his recent scent might give them a lead. And that might get Chance to change his mind about her. After all, this would bring him closer to Pestale than he had yet been.

She sighed over her thoughts because she very much needed to prove her worth to her queen and extricate herself from trouble. Once this was over, then she could leave it behind and go and visit her dear humans, her sweet young David and his family. They probably were wondering where she was—

Chance clasped her hand and brought her back from her meandering thoughts. "Then let’s go, lass—let’s go now."

~ Four ~

ROYCE HUNG BACK and looked around the luxurious suite, saying under her breath, Well, he likes his comforts, doesn’t he?

Empty champagne bottles were strewn everywhere. Empty boxes of chocolate were near the king sized bed, as were trays of half-eaten food.

However, what had both Trevor’s and Chance’s attention was the naked woman lying with her legs spread wide and a beckoning smile on her face.

Royce grimaced at Trevor and slapped his shoulder as she moved to cover the woman, who was still—would be forever until she died—in heat. The woman reached up, pulled on Royce’s arm, and whispered, Come join me … touch me …

Pestale had left her alive, but he had also left her addicted to sex, and her addiction would end up killing her. She wouldn’t eat, she wouldn’t take an interest in anything else, and she wouldn’t ever again lead a normal life.

All she would ever want was to have sex with anyone, at anytime, anywhere. It was a form of madness, and even the Royal Fae could not cure madness.

When a Fae who had the sexual power of a Lianhan didn’t turn off the addicting sexual aphrodisiac that bewitched a human, that human became ruined for anything else.

Royce pulled free, and the woman turned and looked at Chance and Trevor. She licked her lips. Oooh … two of you—come. Don’t worry, my prince won’t mind—he has left, and I have this suite for another day. He told me to enjoy myself, and—I need you to come closer. Bring the pretty woman, and we’ll all play … Once again she had uncovered herself and spread her legs.

Trevor and Chance eyed one another before they turned to Princess Royce, who was now quite certain that if she were human she would be blushing. She did not meet their direct gaze.

Trevor laughed out loud as he caught Royce’s expression, but Chance was all grim and grumpy as he said accusingly, You said Pestale would be here!

"He was here—I obviously can’t keep him chained from moment to moment."

Where has he gone?

Royce shrugged and sniffed the air around her. He has disguised his scent. He travels shrouded in black magic. If we can get a feel for the aura he is using, we might be able to track him.

How did ye know he had been here—did ye see it in a vision? Chance pursued.

In a manner of speaking, she said with a shrug. "I thought about him, and suddenly he was in my sight—here. She turned away slightly. I don’t really have control of these visions. They come on their own, although at times, when I concentrate, I can get a flash of something …"

Can ye see into the future, lass? Chance asked with a frown.

Not exactly—but when I do, sometimes, only sometimes, I can alter it if something bad is about to happen. Most of the time, I cannot.

Do ye know the difference between the future and the present? Chance was getting to the point, and in her heart she knew it.

What do you mean? she asked hesitatingly.

I mean, did ye know when ye saw him here that it wasn’t in the future?

Yes, I knew, but I hoped that when we got here, we would find something to allow us to follow.

Aye, then, was all Chance said as he took her measure and looked away. He then added one more question: How can we use this ‘gift’ of yers, lass, if ye can’t always get a vision when ye want to?

"You can use it when I do get a vision. It is one leg up and better than what you’ve got!" she answered, annoyed that he viewed her as an object to an end and yet pleased that she had a quality he found useful.

Chance frowned and gently set aside the naked woman, who had sidled over to him and was rubbing her body up and down the length of his. She wouldn’t be distracted from her purpose, however, and began trying to undo the zipper of his leather pants.

Irritated, Royce took the woman’s arm and with some Fae force laid the woman back in her bed. However that did not deter her, either—the woman simply switched targets and reached up to cup Royce’s breasts. Royce slapped the girl’s hands away, exclaiming in shocked accents, Oh, do stop! while scrambling away from the persistent woman’s ravenous grasp.

Royce looked up and discovered Chance staring at her with a lazy gleam in his eyes. She shook her head. Males—even Fae males—always seemed to find the sight of two females touching one another sexually extremely arousing. What was up with that? she asked herself.

However, Chance returned to the subject at hand and asked her, "Can ye concentrate now—can ye get scent of him off the woman and concentrate on a vision now?"

Perhaps … she answered and then chewed her bottom lip as she began to work her mind to that end.

Then do it! he snapped.

Royce made a face at him and then watched as he