Frankie (Through Time 4)

Gone.

She should follow. She could follow. She could track like no other Daoine Fae. But, he needed his space. Following him now would not help.

His lips had awakened a fever in her. His lips on hers had been a brand she would never get over—his brand. She whispered his name and sent her name with their link into his mind.

With relief she noted that he had not broken their link—it was still there holding him to her. She could feel his confusion and need. She could feel him attempting to banish their mind link, but something stopped him. She knew he wasn’t ready to let her go. She thanked the heavens for that. She had to find a way to get through to him before he was able to do just that.

She still had hope.

“There ye are,” Fiona said tapping her on the shoulder.

Frankie adjusted to reality, “Where have ye been, Fiona? I looked all over for ye.”

“I was hanging m’poor head out the back door, I was. I’m not used to drinking, and that is a truth. Don’t want to ruin yer night, Frankie, but I got a call from m’man, and I think I’ll just head on over to his place.”

“Oh, sure, of course. I’m ready to head home m’self,” Frankie said on a sigh.

“Home is it? But did ye not say ye be staying in the Highlands this summer with yer family?”

“I did, what I meant was, going to head back to my…er…hotel room, and taking off tomorrow morning for home. Just a short plane ride, ye know.”

“Aye then, email me,” Fiona called as she headed out.

Frankie waited only long enough to see her leave before heading for the girl’s room, going into a stall and shifting home. She had planned to spend a few days in Dublin, and stay at a nice little bed and breakfast not far from Trinity, but now… now all she wanted was her own room.

Because she was fairly certain, nothing would ever be the same, ever again, not after his kiss. Life would no longer hold any lure without him.

All the excitement of the day, of being in Dublin on her own, the prospect of Trinity in the fall—all of it no longer seemed to matter.

Only one thing mattered, and he had run away from her before she could show him how she felt.

What was she to do? Just what was she to do?

* * *

Prince Worley whispered into Queen Mab’s ear and stood back to see the results of his handiwork.

Queen Mab was no fool. She was the oldest living Daoine Fae and had many try to do what he was attempting to accomplish. He knew she did not care for him, and yet he wasn’t giving up. He wanted her to take him into her inner circle so that he could be on the spot when she and the Seelie made plans against Pestale. It was crucial. It was what he had promised to accomplish. He had his reasons.

She listened to his theory regarding humans and said quietly, “Is that what you think?” The Queen’s lovely brow was up. She rarely gave anything away and usually answered questions with one of her own.

Worley frowned, “As to that, I don’t know what to think. They—these doltish humans are destroying the icebergs…shall we continue to allow them to do so?”

“It is most upsetting, but we may not interfere. The Human Realm belongs to the humans. They must develop in their own good time. Destiny must not be tampered with for the consequences are dire. You are young, but not so young that you don’t know that Worley. What is all this really about?”

“I want you to use your influence with Deimne. I should like to court his daughter, Frankie, but she seems to think she belongs in the Human Realm, making it next to impossible to interact with her.

“Deimne gave you permission to court her,” Queen Mab eyed him narrowly.

“Yes, but I would like you to order her home, so that I may do so.”

“No,” Queen Mab said evenly.

“No? But my Queen…she is Daoine. She belongs here.”

“Frankie belongs where she deems fit. The matter of where she should live has always been a personal one between her and her father.” She waved him off, “If I needed Frankie, she would come. She is a loyal and powerful Daoine.” One brow went high, “If you really wished to pursue this, you would shift to wherever she is and make yourself impossible to resist.”

“That is not my style,” he answered and opened his mouth to say more, but the Queen waved him off.