4
Cal swore under his breath. He could hear voices from the lower floor, which meant he could go down there only if he was invisible. Invisibility meant he would not be unable to interact with Stella, which in turn meant he could not try to convince her of the danger she was in. Every minute she spent with Moncoya was enabling the faerie king to draw her deeper under his spell. Such was the power the so-called “little people” could wield when they chose. Not that Stella appeared to be in need of much persuasion. Helplessness was a new sensation for Cal. It was not one he relished.
It bothered him that she thought of him as her guardian angel, although, in many ways that was exactly what he had become. Not by choice, and there was certainly nothing angelic about him. His thoughts recoiled from the memories that had led him here. It didn’t matter how he had come to be in this role. Whatever label Stella gave him, his job was to protect her and he couldn’t do that if he stayed up here and couldn’t see what she was doing. Sighing, he followed her.
Cloaked by invisibility, he reached the foot of the stairs and cast a swift glance about the vast room. Stella was standing by the drinks machine, sipping water from a glass. There was no one else around and Cal frowned. He had definitely heard voices. A glance at the glass wall showed him that the panels were closed. Shadowy movement in the dusk beyond the terrace caught Cal’s gaze and he walked over to get a closer look. His attention was diverted as Moncoya entered behind him through the front door. Stella didn’t notice and the faerie king paused, eyeing her rear view appreciatively. Cal couldn’t really blame him. It was a particularly tempting sight.
Moncoya’s embroidered waistcoat hung open over a white dress shirt and he wore skintight black leggings tucked into glossy riding boots. His hair was tied back in a ponytail. Momentarily, Cal caught a glimpse of the yellow ring that lit his eyes. How could Stella not see that there was something fundamentally wrong about this guy?
“Buenas noches.” Moncoya strolled forward and Stella swung around to face him. Although she smiled, there was a touch of nervousness in her expression. Good. I’ve managed to plant at least a seed of doubt, Cal thought. “Something troubles you?” Moncoya’s eyes raked her face.
Stella shook her head. “It’s this heat.” She took another sip from her half-full glass and Moncoya observed the action through narrowed eyes. It was clear to Cal that Stella was uncomfortable. Moncoya, his faerie senses so closely attuned to the feelings of others, would certainly pick up on it.
“Sí, it is very warm. May I?” Moncoya stretched out a hand for the glass. Cal recalled, just in time, that a faerie could claim a mortal for its own by luring the person into sharing food or water. Before Stella could hand over the glass, Cal reached out an invisible hand and snatched it from her. It shattered on the tiled floor.
Stella’s exclamation of shock echoed in the vast space. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know how I came to be so clumsy.”
“Be careful.” Moncoya spoke mechanically. “Your feet are bare. You must move away from this area while I clear away the glass.”
Biting her lip in chagrin, Stella followed his instruction. Moncoya knelt to collect the shards of glass. He looked up and straight at Cal. Cal froze, even though there was no way Moncoya could possibly see him.
“So the little star has a protector. How sweet.” The ring around Moncoya’s azure eyes gleamed with red fire, the way his sidhe underlings’ eyes did when they skulked under Stella’s bed. His voice was low and feral. “I don’t know who you are, but I can guess who sent you. No matter. A little rivalry adds spice to the conquest.”
With that, he walked over to Stella and slipped a possessive arm about her waist. Cal was left watching in helpless rage as his charge turned an apologetic smile on the faerie king. He weighed his options. Go over and intervene? It would give him great pleasure to sink his fist into Moncoya’s smug face, but there was unforeseen danger in that sort of action. Naively, Cal had assumed he would be able to warn Stella of the danger and she would believe him. He had not envisioned a scenario where she refused to listen. If she went willingly to Moncoya—or any of the other warring factions—all would be lost. And he knew his stubborn charge all too well. If he went after Moncoya with his fists swinging, he could not predict Stella’s reaction. She might view Moncoya as the underdog. What if she decided to punish him by siding with Moncoya? It was a chance he couldn’t take. He had to get her to listen to him...or force Moncoya into revealing his true nature.
The movement in the garden drew Cal’s attention again. It had become more obvious now. It was as if the darkness itself was swirling up against the window, shifting and changing shape as it pressed against the glass. The voices he had heard earlier were clearer now. Soft and persuasive, they murmured an incantation. Another sound, like giant beating wings and distant hoofbeats, caught Cal’s straining ears. Stella appeared not to notice these out-of-place sounds. Moncoya, his hearing as finely tuned as Cal’s, looked up with a frown just as the first crack appeared in the giant wall of glass.
Cal faced a difficult choice. He couldn’t remain invisible and shield Stella with his body. Materializing was dangerous because Moncoya would see his face. He would know whom he was dealing with. But Cal’s first duty was to his charge. Those thoughts took a fraction of a second. Then he reacted like lightning. Materializing, he grabbed Stella by the hand and threw her—protesting loudly—down onto one of the oversize cushions as far from the window as possible. Before she could bounce back up again, he covered her body with his own.
He was just in time. The entire glass wall at the rear of the casa imploded, showering the room with shards of glass. Moncoya’s howl of fury rose above the sounds of mayhem as the shapes of the night poured into the room.
“Who dares approach Moncoya in his lair?”
“Lair?” Despite Cal’s efforts to keep her completely covered, Stella wriggled partially out from under him and turned her head to see what had happened. But Cal kept her pinned in place with one of his legs spread across her body. He knew her too well. If there was danger, his feisty charge was likely to throw herself right into the thick of it.
The amorphous mass of the darkness began to shift and three winged figures could now be seen within the quivering cloud. Although their features were indistinct, their figures were female and they were on horseback. Moncoya lifted his hands and the formless horses reared up as though in fright.
“What are they?” Stella’s breath was warm as it tickled Cal’s ear.
“Valkyries.” He answered her absentmindedly. His thoughts were occupied with escape, his eyes measuring the distance to the door. “Be ready to run when I give you the word.”
“You know why we come.” One of the Valkyries moved slightly ahead of the others. Her voice was compelling and echo-like. As the Valkyrie spoke, the shapes around her shifted as though straining to get closer into the room.
“Your audacity is beyond astounding. I have staked the first claim. She belongs to me.” The words were spoken in a booming voice that was totally unlike Moncoya’s usual subtle tones.
“You wrong us. We do not come for the star. Ours is the task of escorting the fallen.” Cal wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but he thought the Valkyrie’s voice seemed to be fading.
“I will give you fallen aplenty. With her at my side, the conclusion to the battle will be swift and bloody, the outcome final. Otherworld will be mine.”
The Valkyrie’s horse lunged nervously as, laughing, Moncoya took a step forward. He raised his hands again and the dark cloud changed, becoming
