I am Rhiannon, Moira of the
Clan, keeper of the fates, champion
of the Fae. At last, the pieces
begin to fall into place. The
runes of Fate and Domain have
been rediscovered and already
put to good use. Our defenses
have been strengthened and the
destinies of our young foretold.
But an undercurrent still buffets
us, swirling unseen. The Jionagh,
the traitors within the Realm,
are still active, still plaguing
us with their little nips and
bites. Our own species’ collaboration
with a race as abhorrent as the
pixies nauseates me, even as
I search to discover and destroy
those who would threaten our
most precious Realm.
It is most unfortunate Chloe-Sidhe
and her shaman, Logan Whitefeather,
completely broke Cameron O’Donnell,
for he had many answers we still
need. But it was either that,
or lose them both, an unacceptable
Yet there is more I see in the
rune of Fate. It whispers to
me of a lost child, of this Fae’s
direct relationship to the rune
of Inspiration. The rune of Domain
whispers that we can do little
to assist in this recovery; it
will be the action, or inaction,
of our sister which sets our
I am Moira, and under my leadership,
the Fae will be made whole again.
It is my calling, my fate, my
As I ended my narrative when
the quest for the Runes of Fate
and Domain began, so I shall
This is not my story, but
in truth, how the final call
to power of the modern-day
“Hottie alert, two o’clock,
on the left in the tux.” Tristan
whispered in Fiona’s ear. “Definitely
out of my hunting zone, but probably
just right for yours.”
Fiona smiled and nudged her
best friend in the ribs with
an elbow before slowly swiveling
her head and taking in the morsel
Tristan had so kindly pointed
out. The wedding they were working
at the Promontory Hotel in Big
Sur had already been a feast
for the eyes. She’d never
seen so many beautiful people
in her life.
Oh yeah, the man Tristan had
pointed out was definitely up
there on the hot-o-meter, but
even better was the man standing
next to him. Wiry build on a
tall, rangy body, classic Hispanic
features, liquid brown eyes.
Both men had shed their formal
jackets and bowties and chatted
with each other and the assorted
guests. The object of her attention
stood easily in a pristine white
dress shirt, sleeves rolled up,
glass of champagne in one hand,
the other hanging loose at his
side. Even from this distance
she could see he held his body
like a warrior, feet spread at
hip-width, toned body at the
ready even in this relaxed atmosphere.
Yeah, there was a man she could
Unfortunately, men in tuxes
didn’t tend to reciprocate
when she was wearing her figure-killing,
Some of the waitresses looked
great in their corporate ignore-me
duds, but Fiona wasn’t
one of them.
With a sigh, she turned back
to Tristan and the cocked eyebrow
indicating he wanted an answer
to his alert.
“Both of them are hotties,
you’re right, but seeing
as I don’t know which one
is the groom, I’m going
to turn off my range finder and
concentrate on getting out of
this reception in time for my
yoga class.” She’d
been behind the scenes for the
ceremony itself, only catching
glimpses of the wedding, and
hadn’t seen the actual
wedding party until now.
“You and your yoga. If
you actually put any of those
positions to good use, I could
see going.” Tristan grumbled,
before sighing long and loud. “Besides,
the groom is the dreamy stud
on the left, and oh, look, here
comes the bride. Bitch.”
Fiona smiled. Tristan was more
catty than most women. Since
she wasn’t, they made a
She looked more closely at the
two men and the beautiful, gypsy-haired
woman in wedding white who had
joined them. As a triad, they
were stunning, and she took a
stray moment to wonder where
the best man’s date was.
Something about the groom struck
her as familiar, but she couldn’t
put her finger on why. It wasn’t
because she’d seen him
before--she was positive of that--but
more the way he held himself.
Whatever it was, it made her
Her unease doubled, then tripled
as he sidled her way, his new
bride at his side.
“Greet you, Sidhe,” he
said in a low, undeniably sexy
voice, his eyes intent, as were
“Can I get something for
you, sir?” Fiona asked
with an “I’m here
to make your reception perfect” smile.
He looked puzzled, flashing
a glance at his wife. She shrugged
and took a sip of champagne.
“I’m Aidan Hughes,
Salamander Clan.” He looked
expectant, as if he’d said
something she could or should
She tried to keep her professional
face on. Why did all the cuties
have to be nuts?
“Congratulations on your
wedding,” she said. “It
was a beautiful ceremony.” Unusual,
but beautiful, most of it spoken
in a language she didn’t
understand, but had struck a
chord within her nonetheless.
She took a step back and offered
the tray of canapés she’d
Aidan still looked confused,
and said something in the dialect
she recognized from their vows.
“I’m sorry, sir.
I don’t understand.”
He shot her a quick, thorough
glance, then shook his head. “You
will,” he answered enigmatically,
looping his arm over his bride’s
shoulder and turning away.
She caught a snippet of what
he was saying as he leaned close
to his wife.
“...how can she not know
... faking it?” They moved
out of earshot.
Fiona snorted and headed to
the kitchen. They didn’t
call California the land of fruits
and nuts for no reason, but their
conversation took the fruitcake.
Tristan collared her as she
shouldered through the kitchen
“So, love, what did the
delectable groom have to say?
Was he looking for an addition
to their wedding night?” His
eyebrows rose lasciviously.
Fiona thought hard as she deposited
the tray onto a side table. Was
that what their little exchange
had been? No, except for his
strange questions, he’d
only had eyes for his wife.
“No such luck,” she
quipped. It wasn’t something
she’d entertain at this
point in her life, but in her
youthful twenties she’d
been more than experimental in
that regard. The experiences
had been light, fun, with no
real commitment, and while she’d
moved on now, she definitely
looked back on them with fondness.
One particularly delectable tryst
had been how she’d met
Tristan, as a matter of fact.
But when she’d become
friends with him and his now-partner
Daniel, rather than just having
a good time, she’d ended
their physical relationship.
That’d been six years ago.
Aunt Carrie had been harping
on her to find a man of her own
since, but the oomph, the gut-punched
feeling she knew would indicate “the
one” had been sorely lacking.
Not from a lack of trying on
her part, though.
These days she tended toward
hanging out by herself, only
hitting hot spots when she felt
the overwhelming urge to get
nasty. Those urges were coming
more and more infrequently as
her desire for something more
lasting solidified. She wanted
what Tristan and Daniel had.
Tristan broke into her self-analysis. “Well,
damn. What about the best man?
He’s here solo.”
“What’s in it for
you, Tristan?” she snapped,
uncharacteristically edgy now.
She was never good at introspection.
And what was it with Tristan
and his pushing?
He held up his hands as if to
ward her off. “Down girl.
It’s time for you to get
laid. You’ve been acting
pissy lately, and we both know
what that means. Why not hook
up with Mr. Studly out there
... you know you want it.”
Damn. Tristan was right, and
her response to him a second
ago just proved it. He didn’t
have to look so smug about it,
though. She thought fast, back
to her last fling. Three months
ago. Too long for a woman in
her early thirties. Way too long.
That and her thoughts about long-lasting
relationships made her decision
more than anything. Maybe a quickie
with a stranger was what she
needed to pull her out of her
“All right.” She
nodded. “Yoga’s out.
Let’s toss a line in the
water and see if he bites.”
* * * *
Mike Alvarez scanned the room--again--looking
for the hot little blonde waitress
Aidan had been talking to.
Aidan and Leanan had acted odd
the moment they’d laid
eyes on her, and he had the feeling
it was because they were trying
to set him up. Aidan knew the
type of women he liked. Hell,
until his buddy and Leanan met
and fell in love, they’d
been the original dynamic duo
when it came to the ladies.
While he didn’t need any
help in that particular area,
he wouldn’t mind hooking
up with someone he’d never
see again. It would help him
take his mind off the upcoming
fire investigator’s exam.
She’d probably left already,
since the reception was winding
down and he’d seen her
in the thick of things since
long before the ceremony began.
His attention was snagged--completely--by
the sight of her walking out
of the kitchen doors. She’d
changed into a flimsy little
peach sundress riding just above
her knees, hugging her breasts
to perfection. The switch between
waitress and hot tamale threw
him for a loop. He’d expected
her to be pretty, but this went
way beyond his expectation.
The short, blonde hair which
had capped her skull like a lover’s
hand now fanned out in a riot
of spikes, haloing a face that
managed to look angelic and completely
nasty at the same time.
She strode directly toward him,
eyes as blue as the sea locked
on him. One corner of her mouth--her
full, generous mouth--kicked
up in a half-smile.
There was no come-hither quality
to her expression. Instead, it
said she’d like to eat
him alive--if he was willing.
His cock swelled in response,
pushing against the fly of his
tux pants, and he had no doubt
they’d be tangled in the
sheets, thoroughly replete, long
before tomorrow morning hit.
He stepped forward, ignoring
Aidan’s hail from across
the room. Screw him. He already
had a girl.
His mystery woman took his hand
without a word and steered him
deftly to a side door, pushing
the French doors open into the
cool coastal night.
The surf crashed on the rocks
below the promenade the hotel
sat on, and it sent a primal
thrill through Mike, one which
demanded he conquer, claim his
right to her body.
But he was too well schooled
in the female species to just
take without asking.
He turned to her. “My
name is...” Her finger,
topped by a short, unadorned
nail, rested against his lips.
“Shhh,” she whispered. “No
strings, no names. Just this.”
Damn, she had a voice that could
set the world on fire ... all
smoke and heat. He looked at
her in a bit of shock, then took
her at her word. What man wouldn’t?
He sucked her finger into his
mouth and nipped it, drawing
a tiny gasp, and ran his tongue
along the tip, teasing away the
Her taste, salty and sweet,
perfumed by the sea, surged through
his body. He released her finger
and hauled her into his arms,
capturing her mouth completely,
delving his tongue inside, savoring
the differences which made her
all woman ... and all his for
Her curves imprinted themselves
on him, the tight peaks of her
nipples caressing him through
He leaned into the kiss, bowing
her back, and reached down to
hike her leg up. His fingers
found miles of soft, satin skin,
and as he devoured her mouth,
he slid his hand up her thigh,
encountering nothing but sweet,
His fingers probed and found,
to his delight, that she was
shaved bald. He slipped between
her pussy lips, and she was wet
already. His dick hardened as
her questing hand cruised down
the front of his slacks, tracing
his erection with quick, sure
He drew in a rough, ragged breath
and used the motion to whisper, “Not
against the building.”
“Why not?” she asked
in a voice gone soft and breathy. “Doesn’t
it turn you on, thinking anyone
can walk out here?”
It did, but it wasn’t
how he’d been raised. His
big, noisy Catholic family cherished
their women. They didn’t
slam them up against the wall
and fuck them senseless like
a caveman. But God, that’s
what he felt like doing right
“Don’t think so
much,” she whispered, and
slipped her hand inside his pants,
grasping his cock in a sure,
firm grip. “Just feel.”
She slid her hand down his shaft
slowly, flicking a finger over
his cockhead, smearing the drop
of precum over it as she memorized
him by touch alone.
He stiffened, dropped his mouth
to her breasts, and suckled her
nipples to hard points beneath
the silky material of her dress.
She tasted like summer, heady
She moaned when his fingers
traced her seam again, gasping
as he parted her and slid around
her clit with teasing little
strokes. He stroked lower, and
slid a finger inside her hot,
clenching pussy at the same moment
he bit down lightly on her nipple.
She stiffened against him, a
husky little cry breaking from
her lips as her hand tightened
around his cock.
Mike smiled ferally against
her breast and slid a second
finger inside her, pumping slowly,
in direct counterpoint to the
rapid beating of her heart ...
and his. He continued tonguing
her nipples, first one, then
the other, interspersing his
laving with nips and bites. She
stiffened against him, her breath
coming in harsh little pants
as his thumb circled her clit,
her fingers clenched around the
iron of his erection as if it
were a lifeline.
Jesus, she was like fire, burning
in his arms. He brought her to
a quick, wrenching climax, making
her shudder. She sagged briefly
against him, her weight a sweet
pressure, before sliding her
He lifted his head from her
breasts and straightened slowly,
painfully, his cock still within
Her face literally glowed with
satisfaction, and her eyes were
slightly glazed. “Well, that was
a surprise,” she said,
her voice husky and sated. “But
I had something a little more
mutual in mind.”
She retreated a few steps, leading
him by his dick, until she was
flush against the wall, and spun
him. The rough contours of the
rock and stucco walls bit into
the fine lawn of his shirt, the
sensation a scathing contrast
to the hand now caressing him
as if it were the last night
The rasp on his zipper lowering
sawed through the night, incredibly
loud, incredibly arousing. His
cock sprang free, the head blindly
seeking her through his Jockeys.
She laughed, low and sensually,
and pulled his pants and shorts
down just enough to bare him,
tracing her nails down his swollen
cock, making it ... and him ...
jerk in response. Before he could
even breathe out an oath of thanks,
she dropped to her knees and
her hot, wet mouth engulfed him.
His moan carried on the night
air, drowning out even the pound
of the surf below.
Mike clutched at the rock wall
in desperation, fingers itching
to burrow into her hair, to direct
her movements. But no, he’d
let her lead, even if it fucking
Her tongue laved the bottom
of his erection lovingly as she
sucked him in, her fingers caressing
his balls with just enough force
to make him buck against her
She hummed in approval and sucked
harder. The vibration traveled
through his body like a shot,
scrambling his brain, short-circuiting
his restraint. He buried his
hands in the short spikes of
her hair, setting a fast, furious
pace as he fucked her mouth.
His mystery woman tightened
her hold on his balls, the fingers
of her other hand biting into
his hip as she steadied herself.
His sac drew up, sensation thundered
up his spine, and he was coming,
jerking against her face as he
shot cum down her throat.
He sagged against the wall,
drained, but curiously alive
... more so than he’d ever
felt after a quickie.
She took one last, long, loving
pull with her mouth, stood and
tucked him back into his pants
and zipped him up.
“Thanks,” she whispered, “I
needed this.” She dropped
a quick kiss on his lips, slid
away from him, and was gone in