Cursed by S. A. Archer & S. Ravynheart

Cursed by S. A. Archer & S. Ravynheart

Author:S. A. Archer & S. Ravynheart
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Ravynheart Publishing
Published: 2011-10-28T07:00:00+00:00


Chapter Four

The lights along the promenade gleamed as bright as a spotlight after the darkness on the pier. London struggled to orient herself. Even at this hour, the late-night weekend crowd still milled about. The volume of conversation and music sounded loud to her unaccustomed ears. Arms still embraced her securely, holding her steady. A solid and warm body pressed against her back. The voice was seductively low, “We are safe. Be easy.”

London glanced back at the elf that held her. She would not have guessed from having seen him cramped in that small cage with the others that he was this tall or toned. Gently, she disengaged his arms from around her waist. “Okay, you’ve copped enough of a feel for one rescue.” The elf laughed at that, but they both knew he’d been getting a bit more touchy feely than the situation called for. Anybody who knew anything about the fey knew they were a casually sexual bunch. A lot like vampires on that score, only without the feeding part. Well, usually without the feeding part, but not always. “What about the others?”

“They escaped.” He placed the handcuff key into her palm. “Rico sent you?”

London closed her fist around the key. “I guess you could say that.”

“I never thought he’d turn to a human for help.”

“Yeah, well. He didn’t exactly ask.” Tucking away the key, London scanned the area. No sign of the Changelings or the wizards. “What’s your name?”

“Kev.”

“Can you teleport us back to Ireland, Kev?”

The elf laughed. “If only I could. ‘Tis a bit far of a leap for me.”

“Then we’ll have to wait for the ferry.” London checked the time on her phone. “It’s already pretty late. Should just be a couple of hours. I don’t imagine the Changeling left you with a pocket full of money. Let me treat us to an early breakfast while we wait.”

During the meal and the ferry ride back to Dublin, Kev chattered away… endlessly. The elf definitely had the gift of gab. He went into detail about how Rico had come to the wood elves a little over thirty years ago. As one of the earthborn Sidhe, Rico never lived in the Mounds. The Mounds, London gathered, was the place where the fey came from. Kev’s people had not lived in the Mounds, at least not since the wizards were driven from Ireland.

As one of the “noble elves,” the Sidhe had a superior status in fey culture. Everyone else was “lesser fey” by comparison. Not that all of the lesser fey bowed before the Sidhe. Like Deacon and his Changelings, for example. The wood elves of Kev’s tribe did revere the Sidhe, and were honored to serve Rico, even if he was Unseelie, and the wood elves tended to align more with the Seelie point of view.

Much of what Kev told her London filed away, including the difference between the Seelie and Unseelie. It sounded like splitting hairs to her. Even still, the better she understood Rico and the Sidhe, the better she could fight the curse.



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