“It was all his hairy idea.” I patted Flynn’s shoulder, giving him a shove toward Maeve.
Flynn opened his mouth to protest, but Maeve plastered her hand over his mouth. “And would not you agree that this stunt is the very definition of a hair-brained idea?”
Flynn dropped to his knees in front of Maeve, his hands clasped in front of him, batting his dark eyelashes. “Please forgive me, O majestic one, O Maeve of the boundless bosom and arse that won’t quit, O ravishing goddess, O mighty quoter of scientific theories and slayer of Arthur’s mead. You’re such a stunner, never in my life have I beheld a finer or more shapely behind?—”
“Oi, keep it in your pants while the mother’s around,” Corbin said.
“Don’t mind me, sweetie. I’m taking notes,” Aline grinned.
“—of such heavenly and beddable physique, of the brain so big it’s a wonder it fits in your noggin, would you find it in your big beautiful heart to forgive this wee poor bugger for his infraction…”
Maeve’s face remained stern, but her shoulders shook. “Flynn…” she moaned, then a laugh burst out of her.
Flynn grinned and hugged her legs. “You laughed. I’m off the hook.”
“Get up, you fool.” Maeve lifted him to his feet. He threw his arms around her, nearly knocking her over.
“And me?” I lifted an eyebrow.
“Of course you.” Maeve leaned in and kissed my cheek. “I know you weren’t the brains behind this one. Or lack of brains, as it were. This is all Flynn. Come inside.”
I slid my arm around Meave’s waist as we trudged back through the inner courtyard into the Great Hall. Her sweet, spicy smell invaded me, mixing with the excitement of the car chase and the residual spirit magic that hummed in my veins. I’d given more than I’d meant to that statue, and my reserves were running low. Maeve hadn’t been in the frame of mind forbedroom shenanigans since we’d returned, and I knew she’d last topped up from Rowan and Corbin in London, so she was good. I, on the other hand, was getting a serious case of blue balls (Flynn’s phrase – descriptive and accurate). And although he was attractive enough with his floppy red hair and stupid grin, Flynn didn’t want to ‘cross-swords’ (another delightful phrase I picked up) with me, and I didn’t think the others would appreciate my advances.
Also, I missed Maeve.
I hadn’t had a chance to be alone with her since the empty office in London, the day I realised she felt more deeply for the others than she did for me. The rejection prickled at the back of my neck. I knew she’d told Corbin and Flynn she loved them, and I’m guessing Arthur, too, since she managed to tempt him into the harem. She probably told Rowan about her feelings for him that night she stayed away with him and Corbin and they came back reeking of each other.
Maybe she didn’t want me anymore, now that they’d figured out they were hot for each other? Maybe she had no use for me any more?
I hoped not. Even though Maeve didn’t love me, I didn’t want to leave her. She meant everything to me. As much as I tried not to think of Briarwood as home – because I knew I’d have to leave one day – the feeling of returning to the castle after all those nights away was like the first spoonful of hot curry. I was kind of attached to the decadent human inventions of beds and whiskey and indoor plumbing.
Briarwood and Maeve had wormed their way under my skin.
And the guys…
I hated to admit it, but I kind of liked them. Ever since Corbin made the stop at my parents’ old house, they’d all been treating me differently – Arthur threw insults at me every chance he had, and Rowan still barely made eye contact, but it the insults andthe silence were good-natured, comfortable. I was one of them now.
One of them.
Don’t get used to it,the voice in my head reminded me.Maeve’s in charge – you’re going to last as long as she needs your spirit magic, and then you’ll be out of the harem, and her life.
If you even survive the Slaugh.
We crowded into the Great Hall. The guys flopped down on to their favourite chairs. I went to sit on the bean bag I usually chose, but Maeve tugged me toward the couch.
“Sit with me,” she whispered.
I grinned. Yeah, like I could refuse Maeve with her heavy eyes and cheeks still pink from her anger at Flynn. I dropped down into the soft couch. Maeve slid in beside me, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. My fingers grazed the side of her breast, and all thoughts of leaving and the Slough flew out of my head.
“We were about to have a meeting before you showed up,” Arthur said from behind the bar. He opened a bottle of mead and poured out a goblet for everyone except Rowan.
“About our fae situation, I suppose.” I accepted the goblet he held out to me and gulped back the sweet alcohol. By Oberon, that stuff was good. The fae had honey wine, but like all their food, I’d never been able to drink it. At least Arthur’s gave me a decent buzz before I threw up.
“Thanks to the Banksy wannabes here, we have a growing vessel of power to use against them.” Maeve sipped her drink. “But we still don’t know if it’s enough to stop the Slaugh. I think it’s time we spoke to Daigh.”
“You do?” That was a surprise. It wasn’t like Maeve to change her mind once she’d made it up, especially not when she believed she had logic on her side.
“I do,” Maeve yawned. “But not now. It’s late, and I’m about done with emotional beatings today. Bedtime, all of you. We’ll summon the evil fairy in the morning.”
