Dark Enchantment (31 page)

“I would never…” She cut him a sharp look. “
Never
would I have done so, had I not believed you a mere mortal in need of my
superior
protection.”

“So, you believe you’re…your race is superior.” She shook her head. “A dangerous supposition, considering a German dictator thought
his
race was superior not too long ago.”

“We don’t consider ourselves morally superior. But with our preternatural abilities,
we”
—he stressed her inclusion — “are exceptional, both physically and psychically.”

She watched the pheasants, the cock strutting proudly before his hen. “I suppose… So, do you…change very often? Back and forth, I mean…from one world to the other?”

“Absolutely
not
.” His emphatic reply refocused her attention. “As children, we’re taught the dangers involved. I can personally attest to the lure of power in that purely magical state. ‘Tis…addictive. Few who taste it ever desire to return to a mundane physical existence, and thereby forfeit their mortal souls. Therefore, those who dabble, who are after crossing back and forth between this world and that, risk losing their humanity.”

It finally sunk in. What he had risked to save her. His humanity. His very mortal soul. Caleb leaned over and nuzzled her neck. She sighed and settled into his embrace.

“Do you want to hear more of your mother?” he asked softly.

Did she? Was this
The Truth
Da had spoken of? What Granny had been trying to explain to her the day of her heart attack? “Yes,” she whispered. “Tell me. Everything.”

His arms tightened around her. “A merrow possesses great beauty and great wealth,” he began. “Herself differing from a mortal woman only in that her feet are flatter, and there’s a very thin webbing near the V of her fingers.”

Arianna swallowed, forcing saliva down a very dry throat. “Did Granny mention how my parents met? I mean, with my mother living in the ocean and all.”
Did I really say that?

Caleb covered her knotted hands with one of his. “She did. One evening, whilst out exploring the site of a 19
th
century lighthouse at Baily, near Dublin, your da spotted herself frolicking in the waters. The merrow’s sealskin cloak enables her to travel the ocean currents, but eventually your mother came on shore, abandoning it temporarily, desiring to dance in the light of the moon. A risky business that. Fishermen have been known to force a merrow to marry them simply by hiding her cloak.”

It was the most outrageous tale she had ever heard…and yet it seemed cohesive somehow
. The Truth.
Caleb must have misunderstood her shallow gasp, because he hurried to explain. “No worries, love. According to Granny, your mam was after putting her cloak away voluntarily to marry your da. And choosing to give birth to you as well. But sadly, in the end, no matter how deep a merrow’s feelings for her mortal family, the enchanted call of the sea will always prevail. ‘Tis her nature, you see, that she can never overcome.”

“A fish out of water,” Arianna quipped and caught her lip between her teeth.

He gave her a squeeze. “’Twas Herself alerted me you were in danger on Inishmore.”

Arianna whipped around, stared up at him. “My mother? How?”

“She woke me from a restless sleep. Thought at first ‘twas the
bean sidhe
wailing outside my window—you’ve heard of the screaming banshee?” Arianna nodded. “But after transforming, I knew instantly ‘twas your own mother calling to me to save you.”

Pieces of a transcendental puzzle began to fit together. The ethereal being rising from the angry waves on that dark and hellish night had been no wraith, no ghostly apparition.

But her very own mother…in faerie form.

Arianna remembered the way the woman’s gossamer figure had sunk again into the ocean’s depths. But not until she had looked skyward, satisfying herself that Caleb had arrived on the scene, a glittering dark knight swooping from the heavens on a magical steed, riding on the wings of a cloud.

Her father’s final words whispered through her mind.
“You must follow your heart, love, and open your eyes of faith.”

My God, she thought, everything Caleb had told her was true. All true. Every bit of it.

Chapter Thirty-two

D
estiny.
Another word Da had spoken to her on his final night. “I understand now why he took me away from here,” Arianna said, turning in Caleb’s arms. “He must have been terrified he’d lose me the way he had my mother…to the irresistible lure of a magical world.”

She also understood why he had kept the cottage. So that, if anything ever happened to him, she wouldn’t be lost, without a foundation upon which to resurrect this part of her nature. “He left an inscription for me in a children’s Bible I found in the cedar chest in my parent’s old room. It was his way of confirming my true heritage, while keeping the revelation vague, in case the Bible were to fall into someone else’s hands. What I don’t get though is, if I’m m-magic”—she had a problem saying the word—“why am I afraid of heights? Of closed in places? Why the migraines?”

“All likely a result of repressing your own true nature. I reckon you’ll find those things won’t be troubling you anymore.”

“Oh, yeah, and another thing. I’ve never been able to cry.”

A wind gust lifted her hair from her neck and Caleb smoothed it with his hand. “Other than getting an impressive temper on, and possessing a wee tinge of vindictiveness, we of the mortal
sidhe
aren’t a highly emotional lot. I’ve cried only once myself…the night I held your lifeless body in my arms. Because of the
Geis,
it’s believed we’ve lost much of our humanity. That we’re incapable of experiencing human love.”

Arianna caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “Then you’ve gotta be wrong about me. About what I am.”

“And why is that?” The tone of his voice was a gentle caress.

“Because I love you with every fiber of my being.” She wrinkled her nose and added, “Even when you first started talking about all this, and I was sure you were out of your ever-loving mind.”

His head dipped, those delicious lips tracing nibbling kisses over her nose, down her cheek, her chin. “Then I must be a fraud as well,” he murmured huskily. “For ‘twas you yourself who taught me the meaning of the word.” He lifted his eyes, his gaze mating with hers. She could feel her body grow soft, malleable, as he unleashed the enchanting power of his sexual thrall. A welcome enticement. “You’re my
anam cara,
Arianna, my soul mate. As I am yours. We’ve been destined to be together, you and I, since time began.”

His hand covering hers, he pressed her palm to his chest. Beneath her hand, his heart thrummed wildly, in perfect sync with her own. “Feel what you do to me,
a mhuirnín.
A raging fever you’ve always been in my blood. Now and in the Imaginal…in our dreams.”

Arianna shifted and slid one leg across his lap. Straddling him, she captured his face between her hands. “You just didn’t get it before, when you sent me away. Don’t you understand that being with you is all…
all
…that matters to me?” She kissed his mouth, nipped his lower lip. “If I couldn’t have your child, I would rather have had none at all.” She deepened the kiss. His breathing grew ragged. She felt him shudder, the muscles of his shoulders bunched beneath her fingertips. “I love you, Caleb. Only you,
a ghrá.
Now and forever.
Anois agus go deo,”
she whispered in his ear, repeating her vow in the few words of Gaelic she had learned.

Caleb wrapped his arms around her. She could feel his raging arousal as he bent to nuzzle the cleavage between her breasts. Then he lifted his head, eyes glittering with a carnal look that was both promise and demand. “We’d best start back now,
a mhuirnín.
I’ve waited far too long for this. And I intend to take my time with you.”

As he held back a weeping willow branch so that she could duck beneath it, Arianna turned to him. “I just thought of something,” she said. “This morning? When the plane started shaking—” A corner of his mouth lifted in an arrogant smile. “You did that, didn’t you?”

“You’ve never heard of our ancient custom then?”

She forced her eyes away from lips that had her thinking naughty thoughts. “What custom?”

“Marriage by capture. ‘Tis a practice of great antiquity amongst my…amongst
our
people. The bride being seized and carried off by the groom.” Arianna cuffed him playfully on the arm, and he gave an oh-so-wicked chuckle.

“Some of the passengers might have missed connecting flights,” she scolded primly.

His teasing expression grew sober. “I couldn’t let you leave me,
a ghrá
. Not after learning ‘twas safe for us to be together. Learning who you are.”

“Who I am.” Arianna repeated the words in a daze. “It’s odd, you know? Almost as if I’ve had some kind of selective amnesia all these years. And now, my memory is beginning to return in bits and pieces.” She blew out a breath. “How in the world am I suppose to explain all this to Tara and Michaela? I mean, they already think I’m nuts for believing you’re the lover in my dreams.”

The look on Caleb’s face stopped her short. “What? You mean, they know about the waking dreams we’ve shared.”

“Of course. They’re my best friends…my family. We tell each other everything. But when they hear this…well, Michaela will eventually get it. But Tara? Not unless she sees it with her own eyes. Wait, that’s it. You just do a little magic for them—you know, like that trick with the lightning. Or start a fire or—or something.”

“First of all, Arianna, I’m not a trick pony.” Oh-oh. The fact that he was using her name, instead of an endearment didn’t bode well. “Nor, for that matter, am I a
magician.”
He spat the word. “An accusation, which, by the way, is highly offensive to those of our kind.” As he walked beside her, his long strides were forcing her almost to run to keep up.

“I-I didn’t know…”

“Furthermore, you need to understand that your friends may be privy to none of this. Like the mortal world, our people live by certain laws enacted to protect our society. One of which is that mere mortals may be told of our existence on a need to know basis only. Think of your American CIA. In point of fact, most mortals who are aware of us are like Flanagan, members of old families who’ve passed the knowledge down through many generations.”

“Whoa, just hold on a darn minute here,” she protested, a flash of mutiny in her eyes. “What do you mean I can’t tell my friends about this? What about freedom of speech?”

His jaw hardened, his expression turned stone cold. “The Council of Brehons, which rules the
Túatha de Danann
, is no democracy, Arianna.”

“And if I run my mouth, then what?”

“Depending on the circumstances, revealing our secrets is a crime akin to treason.”

She felt herself grow pale. “What are you saying? That I could be executed?”

She read the chilling truth in the pain in his eyes. “Something equivalent. A kind of permanent exile. You would be forced to transform, to leave this mortal existence.”

“But you said you’re the chairman of the board, or the chief, or whatever,” she said, flapping her hand.

“That doesn’t mean I could legally intervene on your behalf,” he stated sternly, then heaved a breath. “Not that I’d allow you to be cast off alone. I would go with you, stay with you forever.” He smiled his crooked smile. “But I’d much prefer ourselves remaining in this dimension, on this side of the vale. So, what d’ya reckon? Will you hold your tongue?”

They were passing the family mausoleum, when Caleb suddenly took her hand and led her through the door of its small chapel. She marveled that the interior was indeed as she had envisioned in her dream. “There are valid reasons for the strict vow of silence,
a ghrá.
As you embark upon the journey to discover all the supernatural facets of your nature, there’s a thing you must never forget.” He drew her into one of the golden pews and settled down beside her. “Less than a year remains for the
Geis
to be fulfilled. If we violate its terms, the planet will face total annihilation. As there’s no way of identifying in advance who the Woman of Promise may be, we’ve been forced to cloak our existence from the world.”

“This…Chosen One. You’re sure it can’t be me?” Arianna confirmed.

“I am, thanks be to God. The
Geis
requires the Woman be a mere mortal.”

A horrifying idea bullied its way into her churning thoughts. “It couldn’t be Tara or Michaela, could it? I mean, they’re not even Irish.”

“The enchantment doesn’t designate a nationality,” he explained patiently. “It states merely that the woman will come from across the sea.”

Dismayed, her mind began to compile a checklist of the life-threatening dangers Caleb had told her the poor woman drawn into this cosmic drama would ultimately face. A woman who would hold the fate of all humanity unwittingly in her hands. And a mere slip of the tongue on Arianna’s part might destroy the world’s only chance for survival.

Not to mention that, on a much smaller scale, running her mouth could put an entire race of people at risk of becoming the target of lunatics.
Like Conor,
she thought, repressing a shiver of dread. No, she must never allow herself the luxury of forgetting that what Granny had revealed to Conor about Arianna’s heritage had been the thing to set him off.

To put the idea in his twisted mind to roast her like a frigging marshmallow.

After sharing a meditative silence, the two of them left the chapel and continued along the leaf-strewn trail. Turning to her, Caleb slid his hand into his jacket pocket, pulled out a black jeweler’s box and opened it. An exquisite ring nestled within the folds of antique pink satin. A flawless diamond winked from the center of the setting, at the point where the two halves of a golden heart dipped and joined.

“My mother’s
fáinne pósta.
” He hesitated as he searched for the correct word in English—an endearing trait Arianna had noticed only occurred whenever he was nervous. “Her wedding ring,” he translated finally. “‘Twas my father’s mother’s before her, and so forth and so on, back many generations. ‘Tis a Claddagh made of purest gold, two hands clasped around a heart and the crown above it, for
Cairdeas, Dilseacht, agus Gra…
friendship, loyalty, and love.”

He looked down at her, his sea-green gaze melting her insides. “‘Tis those three things I pledge to you today, a
chuisle mo chroí
…my heart’s dearest treasure.” His voice was raw with emotion. “With my friendship, I commit ever to stand for you. Never to judge or condemn you, no matter what trials life may bring our way. With my loyalty, I promise to put you first in all things. Neither anyone, nor anything, will ever take your place in my heart. And finally,” he murmured, his lips lightly brushing her knuckles, “I vow to you this day that no man, mortal or otherwise, could ever love you more.”

Entranced by his impassioned pledge, mesmerized by his manly beauty, Arianna let her gaze travel over his beloved face, the straight aristocratic nose, the chiseled jaw, the sensual curve of lips. Her eyes traced the dusky trail of hair sprinkled lightly on top of the hands that were holding hers. With a heated shiver, she remembered those truly magic fingers touching her in the snow, a heated prelude to the possession of his body later that night in their dreams. She yearned to belong to him fully in the here and now, to have him teach her the ways of physical love. Not only, what it meant to be a woman, she mused airily, but a woman of the
Tuatha de Danann
.

“
An bpósfaidh tú me? Anois
?” he asked again. “Will you marry me? Now?”

So swollen was her heart with love for this man, her destiny, that she could hardly breathe. She could scarcely absorb the fact that all her dreams were
literally
coming true. She was going to become the wife of this wild, fiery, mystical, impossibly stubborn Irishman. Could she be dreaming even now?

“I love you, Caleb,” she whispered, rubbing her thumb across his full bottom lip. “Of course, I’ll marry you. Today, tomorrow. Now this very minute, if it were possible.”

He gave a slow, sexy smile as he took her left hand and slid his mother’s ring onto her third finger. Then he rose to his feet and swept her into his arms. He kissed her gently, her forehead, eyes, nose. And then his mouth took hers in a scorching kiss that sealed his pledge, promised his possession.

He raised his head. The glitter of magic in his unveiled gaze consumed her. “Our promises have been made and accepted, our vows privately exchanged. As your husband, I offer you the protection of my body, my name, and my home, even as I accept the same from you,
a banchéile mo chroí,
wife of my heart. According to Brehon Law,” he intoned quietly, causing the earth to shift madly beneath her feet, “I pronounce ourselves now legally wed.”

* * *

When they arrived back at the castle, Arianna discovered that her luggage had been delivered to the family solar. Caleb escorted her down the hall and into a room layered in femininity. Silks and velvets draped the room in shades of gray and mauve, pale pink and deepest burgundy. The furnishings were in the lighter, more graceful Queen Anne style, with
cabriole
legs that curved outward at the knee and inward at the ankle, supported on clawed feet. Several of the pieces, including the highboy against the wall and the matching lowboy beneath one of the windows, had bombe bases. Two accent armchairs, their cream-colored fabric striped in delicate lines of wine and charcoal, sat facing a small hearth, whose wooden mantle was painted an antique white.

“My mother’s room,” Caleb told her, explaining that, having been constructed in the medieval period, the bedchambers were designed in the adjoining Lord and Lady style. “You’ll have privacy for bathing and dressing, or for personal space as required. Though sure I’ll wish to have my wife in the bed beside me, sharing the night.” That last he added as a gentle reminder to their new marital status.

Caleb had ‘tea’ ordered up to the study, the Irish equivalent of a late afternoon lunch. While sharing the meal, he patiently answered her questions about the society of which she was now a part. “Despite the fact that we’ve already exchanged our vows,” he assured her, “we’ll host a traditional wedding ceremony, so that friends and family can be sharing in our happiness.”