Pursuit (Through Time 1)
“Well done? Is that all ye have to say? It was damned brilliant!” He chuckled happily. “We were brilliant!” After a few seconds, however, his smile faded. “And now, I want ye to tell me how Pestale got a hold of ye and why ye didn’t kill him when ye had the chance.”
* * *
Chance set her on her feet and eyed her angrily.
Royce’s chin went up defensively, and her hands went to her jean-clad hips. “What makes you think I had a chance to kill him?”
“Ye said he took ye into his arms—so by my way of thinking, unless that was what ye wanted, ye should have run him through right then!” Chance snapped, his eyes glaring at her.
“I was taken by surprise, and when he kissed me—” she started.
“He what?” Chance ran a frantic hand through his yellow locks. “He kissed ye? Ye let him kiss ye?”
“I was taken by surprise … but even so, I don’t think I was in any way too distracted to call for my sword! It just wouldn’t have worked … at that moment … I knew he was prepared for just such an eventuality, and besides, just then, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to capture him or kill him.”
Chance took her shoulders, pulled her up close, and looked hard and long into her eyes. “Are ye saying ye doona want him dead?”
“I wasn’t certain then … now I think, yes, he should die … and then … I am not certain again.”
Chance dropped his hands and stood back from her. “Aye—then go home, lass. Ye best go home.”
“I am not going because, so far, I am the only lead you have to Pestale.”
“Then answer me this. If ye know the Dark Prince will harm where he chooses—as he just attempted—what then will ye do?”
“Whatever it takes to stop him—that is a defensive move, that I can do—but cold, calculated killing …”
He paced a moment. “Ye be a trial, lass.”
“You may not think so when I tell you that I trust you to use me as bait.” She put up a hand to stall a string of epithets he started to level over her suggestion. “He wants me—for whatever reason, he has decided I should be his mate, and he means to have me. At some point, you could use me to draw him out.”
“Daft ye be, like your friend Trevor …” Chance’s accent thickened with his frenzy.
She smiled. “You know, Chance, you have surprised me. I had thought you a loose cannon of a playboy … but there is much more to you. You are what a human friend of mine would call ‘solid’.”
He laughed without mirth. “Solid, am I? Doona be so sure, lass … I might yet disappoint ye, for there is no telling why I do the things I do.”
“How did you know the spell to vanquish that demon? It is an ancient Seelie Fae power.”
“Ah, that is a long story, but know this—there was a time when I had a friend … a Seelie Fae friend. He wasn’t royalty, but he was honorable and good and had the heart so many Seelie Fae lack. He taught me many things before he was lost in the war that pitted us against one another …”
“Oh … oh no … did you have to fight him?”
“No, and when he received his death blow … I found him, and was with him in his last moments.”
“Chance … oh … I can’t imagine what you must have felt.”
“Good. I wouldna want a wee thing like ye to imagine such pain.” He shrugged it off, grinned, took her by the waist, and brought her in close. He looked long into her eyes and said softly, “I canna think of that devil’s lips on yours without burning inside. Doona let it happen again.”
“Well, it wasn’t as though I had a choice …” She felt a wild heat rush into her cheeks.
“Ye had a choice. Doona try and tell me, otherwise lass. Ye are strong and sure, and I’m not a betting man, but I would wager ye were curious about him. Doona be curious again.”
“You think you are so smart!” Royce snapped at him, feeling like a schoolgirl. “And you can’t tell me what to do.”
“I can and I am—doona let him touch ye again.”
“Well, I don’t want to, but even so, you can’t tell me not to do anything I choose to do,” she retorted angrily.