Aislyn Read online

  AISLYN

  by

  Shelley Munro

  © copyright May 2004, Shelley Munro

  Cover art by Jenny Dixon, © copyright May 2004

  New Concepts Publishing

  5202 Humphreys Rd.

  Lake Park, GA 31636

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  CHAPTER ONE

  Duty called.

  Seamus Gallagher’s eyes shot open the second the thought registered. He wrestled his nightmare battered body from tangled sheets and crawled out of bed. One look in the mirror elicited a grunt. He’d felt better. But instinct gnawed at his gut, urging him to speed.

  Human side or the fairy colony?

  Concentration made his head pound. Had Hone reported in? Or had Aislyn O’Sullivan pulled another prank and upset the board of directors in the fairy colony? Closing his eyes allowed the drummer in his head to perform a solo complete with a laser lighting extravaganza. That would teach him to go out for a night on the town with Gill. Biting back a groan, he snatched up his cell phone. No messages.

  That decided it. Not a police callout. Guardian duties on the fairy side.

  He checked his wristwatch. If he hurried, he’d have time to visit the colony before meeting his partner, Gill, at Auckland Central police station.

  Ten minutes later, he strode out his back door into the wild jungle he called a garden. He headed down a narrow pathway that led into the tangle of overgrown ferns, trees and shrubs. The gravel crunched under his boots as he skirted the puddles created by last night’s rainstorm. Already, the sun shone brightly and steam drifted upward off the mounds of fallen leaves beside the path. As he neared the portal, caution made him pause. A quick glance over his shoulder reassured him that apart from the fantail flitting through the tree tops, he was alone. Seamus muttered an incantation in the old language of the Celtic tribes from Mother Ireland. In the empty space before him, a shimmering portal formed--the doorway from his garden in Auckland to Glenveagh, the fairy village in the colony beyond. Hell’s teeth, it hurt to look at the damned thing.

  Seamus stepped through the fiery blue-white light even as he fumbled in his pocket for sunglasses. Melodic Gaelic tripped off his tongue then he groaned. Displacement was normal, the nausea and starbursts of white hot pain through his head were not. Seamus clapped his hand over his forehead and gritted his teeth as he shrank to half the size of a Jim Beam bottle. God’s balls. He wasn’t going to touch the stuff again in a hurry. Deep breaths. In. Out. Gradually his insides realigned and feeling marginally better, he clicked his fingers in a rapid staccato code. The portal vanished.

  He strode down the winding path that lead to Glenveagh. In the village square, young fairlings played tag, racing about with shrieks of laughter. He stopped abruptly to avoid collision with a blond youngster. A few feet away fairies gossiped while examining potatoes and squeezing melons at Marion’s market stall. Seamus smothered a grin. Marion was ready to pounce. They’d better watch out.

  At the far end of the square, a group huddled in vehement discussion. While Seamus wondered what the problem was every shop and civic building in the square altered color. The whitewashed walls changed to a buttercup yellow. Voices rose in heated debate. As he watched, yellow buildings changed to a hot pink that dazzled the eyes. Seamus suppressed his smile. Ever since the O’Brien clan had returned from Ireland marveling at the colored cottages, the beautification idea had spread like a smallpox epidemic. Amusement turned to a grin. The board had a fight on their hands if they wanted to stick with plain old white buildings.

  Seamus glanced at the familiar faces in the square, searching for Aislyn. He was checking to make sure she was all right. That’s all. He’d promised her brother he’d keep an eye on her so he was ... Hell’s teeth! Who was he trying to fool? His whole body hummed with the urgent need to see her.

  Knowing his time was limited, he rubbed the Guardian’s silver amulet that circled his right bicep, summoning Aislyn’s likeness in his mind. That would send him directly to Aislyn instead of wasting time. Two seconds later, he materialized on the far side of the village, near the stock yards. He saw Rory talking to someone inside the ‘fly chute. A frantic neigh rent the air. Timber creaked. Clouds of dust rose from the chute.

  Seamus scanned the arena and frowned. Aislyn wasn’t here. The amulet had failed. Again. Gary, his assistant, kept telling him to send it to the French colony for repair.

  Probably for the best anyway. Aislyn unsettled him.

  Made him want the impossible.

  Seamus snorted and it was a cynical sound. Two hundred years ago, after a war that had decimated the fairy colonies, the clans had signed a treaty. No magic for financial gain. That meant they couldn’t manufacture riches with magic. Each colony had to earn their way with trade. Seamus snorted again.

  His path was set.

  Hell--the New Zealand colony’s finances were a mess. The Guardian had to marry money. And since he was ‘it’ that meant he was marrying for money. That was the first obstacle. Then there was good old Dad. Or rather his father’s cock up. The jet-setting lifestyle his father had maintained during his term of Guardianship had sucked the colony dry. The cat attacks and the six fairy deaths on the Northern boundary had been a direct result of his father’s skimping on security to fuel his entertainment fund. Seamus felt obliged to make restitution for his father’s sins.

  Face it. Aislyn was an unattainable dream, and he was a bloody fool. He was stuck with the Guardian role.

  Loyalty and promises.

  Responsibility.

  Duty.

  No matter what, the colony came first.

  There wasn’t anyone else available to take over the role of leading the colony into the next century. Seamus was the only one who had the experience on the human side that the colony needed if they were to survive.

  Yeah, duty and responsibility. Pushing aside his futile yearnings, Seamus stepped up to the wooden railings, slid off his sunglasses, and settled in to watch the show.

  * * * *

  Aislyn glanced at Rory as he peered up through the sturdy wooden gate.

  "Are you ready, lass?" His wrinkled face bore concern, but at least he’d stopped trying to talk her out of the ride.

  Inside the chute, Aislyn gave a clipped nod. She clamped a black cap on top of her head and waited, her stomach jitterbugging with nerves.

  "On the count of three, lass. One."

  A shuddering breath filled her lungs to capacity.

  "Two."

  Aislyn tightened her grip on the reins, wrapped her slim legs around the streamlined body that quivered with fury beneath her and leaned back in the saddle.

  "Three!"

  The gate shot open with a protesting creak. Muscles bunched beneath her, and a bad-tempered neigh exploded from the dragonfly as it sprang from the chute. Aislyn’s body jerked. She ignored the protesting shake of taut muscles and clung more tightly, determined to emerge the winner in this battle of wills.

  She had to win--she just had to.

  The dragonfly skewed to the left, bucked and twisted mid-air. Sides heaved in exertion, wings flapping frantically. One jolting buck merged into another. Aislyn’s whole body jarred with each powerful surge. Her head snapped back. Her teeth rattled. She could do this. Eight seconds wasn’t that long....

  The brief lapse in concentration proved all the edge her opponent required. Aislyn sailed over the dragonfly’s head, landing in the dusty arena with a bone-crunching thump.

  Aislyn sucked hoarsely for breath. Rat’s tails! Failure when the honeyed taste of success had been so close. Close enough to touch. She tried a tentative movement. A jagged shaft of pain shot up her leg, radiating outward. She gasped as every bone in her body protested the abuse. The sound of running feet beat in u
nison with her head.

  "Aislyn, sweetheart. Are you all right?"

  A stupid question. Totally idiotic. Was she all right? Huh! Aislyn didn’t recognize the strong brogue, but suspected it was Rory rushing to her aid and her hearing was fuzzy from the fall. Was she all right? Of course she wasn’t!

  She’d failed to last the required eight seconds.

  "Aislyn." Gentle hands probed at her body, leaving a tingling warmth in their wake. They turned her over, and she bit back a moan of protest. "Aislyn!" The voice took on a stern tone, almost angry, while the hands grasped her shoulders.

  "Stop squeeze ... squeezing me," Aislyn muttered. Her eyelids fluttered open.

  "How many fingers?"

  Aislyn focused blearily then gasped at the harsh visage that swam into view. Midnight black hair and gray eyes the color of the Tasman Sea on a stormy day. She sighed, convinced she was dreaming, but murmured his name aloud anyway. "Seamus?"

  "Hell’s teeth, Aislyn! What were you thinking?" He ground out the words from between clenched teeth while his fists tightened on her shoulders. She winced at the flash of pain. "You could have been killed!"

  Well, she’d wanted his attention but not quite like this. Aislyn groaned and pushed to a sitting position.

  "Why?" he demanded, his gray eyes diamond hard in an equally hard face.

  She felt a fiery blush bloom on her face and spread downward. Rats. Why did he have to arrive home right at this specific moment? It seemed all the single most embarrassing moments in her life occurred in front of Seamus. If she’d thought about things a little harder, she’d have guessed he’d turn up.

  "Are you going to answer me?"

  Aislyn decided to respond to his interrogation from a standing position. The way he loomed over her made her feel vulnerable. Feminine. Not a good look for a recruit. She gritted her teeth and pushed to her feet with a wobble. Masculine hands shot out to steady her, but she shrugged them off. "I don’t need your help." And I can’t think when you touch me.

  "You need a keeper," he growled.

  She tried to look Seamus right in the eye, she really did. But a few seconds of that mesmerizing glare and her gaze shot to her dusty black boots, while her heart pumped in double-time to keep her from expiring on the spot. She sighed, acutely aware of his athletic physique and the way he towered over her by a good eight inches. Aislyn snuck a quick look at his face. Tanned, not handsome or pretty but masculine. Confident. A reassuring male to have around and the male she lusted ... Two rats and a mouse! She’d thought she’d had this crush thing beat.

  "Why, Aislyn?"

  "I have to prove I can ride," she mumbled. "I want to join the fairy force." Since I can’t have you.

  "What?" His eyes turned to molten steel. A vein twitched in his clenched jaw. Seamus stalked closer.

  "You’re always yelling at me." Even though they were almost chest to chest, Aislyn stood her ground and scowled back. Quick panting breaths partially blocked his appealing citrus scent. She thought she saw a flicker of admiration in his face but wasn’t sure. Frustration at his attitude made her tense, like a mythical cat primed to pounce. Seamus had no right to tell her what to do.

  "The fairy force doesn’t accept females. Or should I say, young headstrong juveniles?"

  "Says who?" His smug tone infuriated her so much she whipped a small black book from her trouser pocket and slapped it against his hard chest. "Where in the rule book does it say that? Show me."

  Aislyn placed her hands on her hips and gave a triumphant smile. He couldn’t. She knew because she’d spent every waking hour of the last month pouring through that same little black book, checking the small print. No way did she intend to knock herself out training then be hauled back from the brink of success because of a stupid rule she’d missed.

  Seamus glanced at the book before placing it on a nearby railing. "Aislyn, you don’t have a hope. When the board of directors stop laughing they’ll screw up your application form and send you away with a pat on the head. Hell, even if it’s not against some rule, nothing will come of your scheming. Face it, you’re not strong enough to complete the final training."

  "Not at the moment, no. But I’m smart. That’s half the battle won."

  His dark brows shot toward his hairline. "You forgot stubborn."

  Aislyn nodded, knowing the accusation was nothing less than the truth.

  "Why?" he demanded. "Why do you want to leave the safety of the fairy colony? It’s dangerous out there, especially for fairy females."

  Why? He should try being a female fairy, restricted to Glenveagh. Never allowed to leave the colony because of stupid cats. Huh! She’d bet they were an urban legend. She bit down on the words at the tip of her unruly tongue. No point wasting her breath. Only to herself did she admit the truth.

  There were only two things she wanted from life--Seamus Gallagher and the fairy force. And since Seamus treated her like a younger sibling, she intended to concentrate on joining the fairy force--even if she had to make fairy history to do it.

  "Well?" Seamus stared at the copper-haired sprite standing in front of him. Defiant to the last. Her obstinate expression made him want to shake her silly or at least put her over his knee and spank some sense into her.

  "I imagine for the same reasons you joined." Her face flushed with indignation. "I want to see the human world. Explore Auckland and compare it to the colony. Do good deeds, fight destructive crime. I want to see what it feels like to be human size. I don’t like needlework. The other females can do it. Who wants to sew a straight line?"

  She definitely needed some good sense spanked into that delectable ... Hell’s teeth. Appalled, he put a brake on his thoughts. He sucked in a deep breath and let it ease out. "Tell me again. The truth this time."

  "That is the truth." Aislyn’s small pointed chin shot up, and she inhaled deeply thrusting some stunning curves into prominence.

  Dammit. Seamus averted his gaze hurriedly. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. The enticing vision remained imprinted in his mind so he started silently counting backwards from one hundred.

  "You--you’re an M.C.P.!"

  Her sky blue gaze struck like a bolt of lightning, stabbing right to his heart. His counting came to an abrupt halt. "M.C.P.?"

  Aislyn gnawed on her full bottom lip. He realized he was staring. Ninety. Eighty-nine. Eighty-eight.

  "Male chauvinist pig!"

  "Male ... Aislyn, that’s a human term. Where did you hear that? Have you been spying on the human that lives at the top of the garden? Have you been spying on the Guardian? He knew it was possible for the fairies to see out, given the right atmospheric conditions, but humans were unable to see inside the protective bubble of the colony.

  "No!"

  "Aislyn."

  Guilty color flooded her face and crept down toward her chest. Seamus grinned, starting to enjoy her predicament. Aislyn had been spying on him! Not that she knew it was him. One of the conditions he’d imposed on the board was secrecy. He had enough to worry about without the paparazzi dogging his heels, trying to establish if he took after his fickle, womanizing father.

  "Oh, all right." One dainty foot traced a pattern in the dusty arena. "I happened to be passing."

  "Happened to be passing? That’s a bit out of your way." Hell’s teeth, this sounded promising. Damn. Eighty-seven. Eighty-six. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. "Fancy him, do you?" Dammit, stop fishing, Gallagher. Eighty-five. Eighty-four.

  "Yes. No! All right," Aislyn snapped.

  This was Duncan’s baby sibling. Remember? Eighty-three. Hades, he must pick a candidate for his first lady and announce the betrothal before he committed a supreme act of stupidity. Even thinking possibilities ... Hell’s teeth! Aislyn O’Sullivan was out of bounds. Eighty-two. Eighty-one. Eighty. Do not pursue this conversation. "And if you were a member of the fairy force you could travel freely between the human and fairy worlds. You could meet your human on equal terms."

  "Yes," she whispere
d. "So now you know my pitiful secrets."

  As Seamus watched, she averted her face, but not before he saw the bright red flush on her cheeks again. Tenderness twisted inside him, and he reached out to grasp her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. He searched her face intently. "The fairy force is hard work." He wasn’t so old he didn’t remember how difficult the training had been, how mentally draining and physically challenging it was. "It’s not glamorous. The human world isn’t that different from our colony. We have the same facilities here, some of the same problems. Why would you want to leave?"

  "You don’t understand. I want this so badly, Seamus."

  "Ah, Aislyn." Despite all thoughts of self-preservation, he pulled her into a loose embrace and smoothed his hand over her unruly mop of hair. In the bright New Zealand sunshine the curls looked like shiny new Irish pennies. They were soft and springy to the touch and smelled like fresh juicy apricots. She cuddled closer and gave a soft sigh. Seamus cursed inwardly. Bad move, Gallagher. He wished he wasn’t attracted to her. She was so determined, so stubborn. She made him want things that could never be, not if the colony was to survive into the next millennium.

  He stepped back, putting a safer distance between them before cupping her face in his hands. "Have you any idea what you are letting yourself in for? I meant what I said; it won’t be easy. The odds are against your success, even if you manage to persuade the board to let you try out for the recruits."

  Aislyn smiled, and thought how cute he looked. So intent. So sincere. So similar to the human who lived at the top of the garden. She let out a small gasp. Was that why she felt so impelled to watch the human whenever she had the opportunity? Because he looked a bit like Seamus? Not that she’d had a clear view, since she’d only seen him from a distance. The veil that separated fairy from human made everything hazy. And that time when he’d been entertaining that woman. She’d heard them talk then.

  "What?" A smile lurked in his eyes.

  Some, she thought vaguely, might call it a mischievous twinkle, but she knew better. Seamus thought of her as an annoying younger sibling in need of protection. While she loved him. She railed at the injustice while her heart sank at the enormity of her problem.