Aislyn Page 2
"Nothing," she mumbled. Seamus was a lost cause. He’d never consider her in a romantic light. That’s why she’d decided to set her sights on the force. Okay, so she carried cat-attracting pheromones. All the females did. Aislyn couldn’t see the problem. After all, how could a cat eat you if you were human-sized. According to rumor, a cat was a huge, hairy beast with fangs and smelly breath, but Aislyn was sure the story was exaggerated. She’d questioned the fairy force members when they came back on leave. They avoided straight answers so Aislyn thought cats had to be smaller than humans.
"I’ll help you," he said without warning. "But I’m not making any promises. Duncan would want me to help you."
Her brother.
Again.
Aislyn studied him, trying to read his expression but failed dismally. She had no idea what went on in that mind of his. Suspicion made her question. "You’re not joking? Making fun of me?"
Seamus clutched his chest and raised his eyes to the sky. "She wounds me."
"Fool," she snapped, trying not to stare at the rippling muscles under his pale blue shirt.
Seamus dropped his grin. "I’m offering to help you train."
"Why?" Her eyes narrowed on the hard angles of his face. "You don’t approve."
"Think of it as a favor to my best friend’s baby sister."
Aislyn deflated inside like one of her manual attempts at a soufflé. Verbal proof. Exactly what she’d thought. He looked on her as a sister. In that moment she decided to accept his offer. And make him suffer for the unknowing hurt he’d inflicted.
"Okay," she said, thrusting out her hand to seal the bargain. Aislyn steeled herself against the shiver of pleasure she knew would follow his touch. "So," she said hurriedly. "Where and when do we start?"
* * * *
Hell in a hand basket.
That about summed up the day. Seamus shouldered open his front door and stood aside to let his partner enter. First Aislyn then ... Hell. Not a day to record for prosperity.
Gill stormed down the passage and turned into the living room. Seamus followed.
"So Hone is dead? You saw the body yourself?" Total disbelief covered Gill’s face.
"Yeah." Seamus stalked the length of his living room and back, ignoring the magnificent view of Auckland city and the harbor beyond. His mouth compressed. "What was left of him." No one should have to die that way. Dammit he was responsible. He should have been more careful, told Hone to take extra care. He whirled to a halt and glanced at his partner and friend, MacGillicuddy. One look told him Gill felt the same burning need for revenge.
Maximillan was going down.
Gill straightened from his slouch and jerked his head toward Seamus’s fridge in the adjacent room. "Drink?"
"Is the Pope Catholic?" Seamus displayed a flash of teeth in the hope it might pass as a grin. He shrugged off his jacket and flopped down on the nearest chair, thrusting his feet out in a comfortable sprawl. Inside, his gut churned with guilt. Self-recrimination. And a hundred other emotions he had no control over.
"Here." Gill thrust an ice cold can at him and dropped into the shabby blue chair opposite. "Clamp your lips around that."
Seamus bit back his frustration and tugged on the ring-pull. A soft hiss escaped as the can opened. He closed his eyes, tipped back his head and drank, savoring the crisp taste of hops as the beer slid down his parched throat. A few more beers and he might even start to relax. Feeling the weight of a stare, his eyes popped open.
Gill studied him intently for a nanosecond longer. "Do we have anyone in place at Maximillan’s?"
Bloodlust glittered in Gill’s pale blue eyes. Seamus knew the same fierce emotions were reflected in his own gaze. "No. But thanks to Hone, at least we have more to go on."
"Hone’s dead because of a scavenger hunt, for God’s sake." Gill leapt to his feet and paced. With his blond hair sticking up in wayward tufts, scruffy undercover clothes and his fierce expression, he resembled a demented street person. He glared at Seamus. "Maximillan’s stark raving mad if he thinks we’re going to let him get away with Hone’s murder and decimating New Zealand’s wildlife all in the name of a frigging game. You’ve seen the list?"
"Yeah." Seamus had seen it. That some eccentric millionaire thought he had the right to take whatever he pleased simply because he had big bucks and political clout made him sick. But Maximillan’s day would come. Of that, Seamus was confident. Maximillan would make a mistake. The man was as wily as a weasel, too crafty to walk into their traps--so far.
Gill whirled about after another lap of pacing. "How the hell do the fools expect the competitors to bag a kakapo chick?" Disgust made his top lip curl. "As if smuggling a tuatara and a kiwi egg out of the country isn’t bad enough. Have we notified the conservation departments in Australia and Brazil?"
"Talked to the Aussies half an hour ago, but not the Brazilian contingent. Diego’s gonna ring me."
"So what’s the plan. We’re not exactly overloaded with manpower."
Seamus shot to his feet, desperate to soothe his agitation with motion. "Another beer?"
"Yeah, but I need to get going soon. Are you sure you don’t want to come? Rachel has a twin sister."
Seamus grabbed another two cans and handed one to Gill. Although a night on the town sounded frivolous, he knew it was Gill’s way of coping with Hone’s death. Seamus understood the need to push aside the unspeakable, even if escape was for a mere night. "Another time. I have things to do." Like working out how to deal with Aislyn.
Gill’s brows rose. "Aha! The mystery woman again."
"There is no woman," Seamus muttered. A vision of Aislyn with her vivid copper curls danced through his mind. He thrust it away. No future with Aislyn.
"Argue all you like. I don’t believe you. One day you’re gonna break down and tell me."
Seamus coughed and spluttered as the chug of beer went down the wrong way. He gasped for breath and wiped a dribble of beer from the corner of his mouth. Yeah, right. Gill might be his best friend on the human side, but if Seamus told him the truth the man would start running and never look back. Loony tune city. Some truths were better off kept secret. He shrugged and said nothing to confirm or deny.
A grin twitched at Gill’s mouth. Seamus stiffened. He didn’t trust that look.
"Man, keep your secrets." Gill paused to sip his beer. "She’s married," he declared, his tone flat, betraying disappointment.
"She’s not married."
"Ah! So it is a woman." Gill’s triumphant grin made Seamus want to put a kink in his friend’s impressive Roman nose.
"Think what you like. Truth is I don’t feel like going out on the town tonight. Not after last night."
Gill sobered. "What are we going to do about Maximillan?"
"I’m going to pull a few favors. Try to arrange more police to take in the slack. At least with the list we have a better idea of the areas they’ll hit. Most of the endangered birds are safe on the offshore islands, but Maximillan’s resort in the Hauraki Gulf is the ideal base for competitors. That’s our main problem."
"Since it’s right next to Little Barrier Island. Yeah, I know. That’s why we need someone inside the resort or better yet working on Maximillan’s estate."
Seamus scowled. "Who? Neither of us can go. Maximillan knows our faces."
"How about one of the new recruits?"
That was the obvious solution, but Seamus didn’t like the idea. The recruits were keen but inexperienced. The whole situation was too bloody dangerous. The empty can in his right hand crumpled as he sought an alternative. "I don’t know. I’ll give it some thought."
Gill grunted. "We need a woman."
Seamus knew Gill meant a woman undercover on the island but amusement sparked anyway. "It always comes down to a woman with you."
"Nothing better to keep you warm at night," Gill agreed with a grin. He glanced at his watch. "And on that note, I’d better leave. Don’t want to keep the lady waiting. See you tomorrow."
Gill fired his empty can at the bin and whooped at the noisy clang of success. "A dedicated bachelor. That’s me. Hell, you’re the one with all the dark, dangerous secrets. Catch ya later."
Gill’s footsteps echoed in the passage as he headed for the front door. Seamus heard his friend’s Ford start with a throaty rumble but didn’t move until the sound of the engine faded into the distance.
His mouth twisted as he replayed Gill’s words. Secrets. His friend knew Seamus Gallagher, police detective. He didn’t have a clue about Seamus’s double role as Guardian in charge of the fairy colony. Yeah, he had dark secrets. Dangerous secrets. And it was a damned juggling act trying to keep all the balls in play. He just hoped like hell he didn’t take a wrong step and get concussed in the fallout.
Damn, Aislyn.
He headed off for a shower and ten minutes later, dropped into a leather recliner in his den. His chest and arms were covered with goose bumps after the cold shower, but his blood still ran hot.
Aislyn’s fault.
He rubbed his hands over his face and cursed softly. Talk about a big mouth. The instant he’d spoken he’d known he should turn and walk--hell--make that sprint in the opposite direction. Instead, he’d offered to help Aislyn train when he should be concentrating on avenging Hone’s death and stopping Maximillan. His fists clenched as he contemplated his stupidity. Too late to take back his offer now. He’d given his word. The future loomed full of cold showers. And long sleepless nights filled with fantasies that wouldn’t quit--of copper curls, firm breasts, trim thighs ... curves in all the right places. Bloody hell. He should have taken Gill up on his offer of a night on the town.
Then he laughed. His laugh held an edge of hardness and not a trace of humor. He got up to pour a glass of Jameson’s and stared into the amber liquid, deep in thought.
There was a month before the successful applicants were announced at the Witches and Goblin’s ball. Working with Aislyn would be like staring temptation in the face. And daring it on.
Masochist.
He dragged out a file and opened it, intending to bury himself work instead of fixating on Aislyn O’Sullivan. This surge of lust for Aislyn was a temporary blip. It would pass and life would go on. Police work had filled his life for a decade, his Guardian duties two years. At the thought of duties, guilt pricked at him. He knew he should announce his betrothal and make it official. Yet he hesitated. And that made his guilt grow.
Purposely pushing Aislyn to the back of his mind, Seamus shuffled through the papers in his manila file until he found the scavenger hunt list. According to intelligence Hone had supplied, each of the twenty competitors put up half a million American dollars to enter with the winner taking out a cool ten million in prize money. It was the challenge that attracted the competitors, not the prize package.
Too much money to know better. Boredom was a hell of a thing.
Seamus ran his finger down the list. Fifteen items. All rare and difficult to attain, they came from far-flung corners of the world. Fury built within him, burning his gut, fuelling his determination to get Maximillan.
Kakapo chicks. They were an endangered species. So scarce there were eighty-six in existence. Damned if he was going to let Maximillan and his mates take what they wanted without a fight.
The insistent ring of the colony cell phone jerked Seamus to the present. "Gallagher," he said tersely.
An Irish brogue blasted down the line. "Dammit, what do you mean by encouraging the O’Sullivan lass? You might be Guardian but don’t you think you might have consulted the rest of the board first?"
Murphy. Seamus frowned. A rattled Murphy. "What’s happened?"
"The O’Sullivan lass applied for the fairy force. When Moira McKenzie refused her application, the O’Sullivan lass turned her into a white rat."
Seamus felt his lips twitch as he pictured the board’s office assistant in white fur and whiskers but kept every trace of humor from his voice. Hell’s teeth, what was he going to do with Aislyn O’Sullivan? "I thought there was an ordinance against the use of magic on board premises?"
"Yes, well." Murphy spluttered, managing to sound like a gobbling turkey. "If the fairy force recruits were chosen on sheer ingenuity, the O’Sullivan lass would be a shoo-in. She accosted Moira in the Dunlewy deli during a quiet moment. The only witnesses were the owners, Max and Hilda. Thank goodness!"
"That’s not so bad then."
"I haven’t got to the good bit," Murphy muttered. "The rat, ah, Moira, ran up Hilda’s skirt, Hilda tripped and fell over the dessert trolley. All the desserts were ruined so Hilda sacked the O’Sullivan lass. I tell you, Aislyn O’Sullivan is trouble. Moira is hysterical and she’s blaming me."
Aislyn. Seamus shook his head. Always the restless one. "Murphy, if you must dip your wick--"
"That’s none of your business!" Murphy made the crazed gobbling sound again.
Seamus bit back a grin. He knew he should have kept quiet, but the affair between Murphy and Moira was an open secret. Everyone knew.
"Boy, this is your fault. You encouraged the lass so you mop up the mess. We can’t have females joining the fairy force. It’s ... it’s unthinkable. If we let her join all the females will push for more. We can’t allow it. If we let just one female out of the colony they’ll all want to go." Murphy’s voice rose with each successive sentence. "Next thing we know they’ll want females on the board!"
"Would that be such a bad thing?" Seamus heard Murphy’s sudden intake of breath and waited for the inevitable gobbling.
"Women on the ... Are you mad?"
Seamus grinned, unsurprised at the older male’s reaction. "The doctor passed me on my last medical," he said, "so no, I’m quite sane."
"Then why are you encouraging the O’Sullivan fairy?" Murphy roared.
Seamus held his mobile away from his ear. "I tried to talk her out of it, but she is adamant. She wants to try out for the next intake of recruits."
"But it’s against the rules," Murphy blustered.
Seamus glanced over at the small black rulebook that sat discarded on his desk. He’d read the thing from cover to cover after talking to Aislyn. "There’s nothing in the rules to prevent a female applying." Stunned silence met his words. "Murphy, are you there?"
"Nothing?" Murphy demanded in a hoarse voice.
"I checked. Murphy, you’re panicking over nothing. She has to make the cut first."
"You mean--? Ah, I’m with you. We’ll make sure she doesn’t make the cut. Cunning plan. Now I know why we voted you Guardian."
"Coerced and blackmailed, you mean. And no, that’s not what I meant," Seamus snapped, incensed on Aislyn’s behalf yet not really sure why. He pushed the thought aside and concentrated on Murphy. "We have to take care in our reaction. The fairy press will scrutinize everything we do, and the other colonies around the world will run the news because it’s a good fairy interest story. Look at the facts. Making the cut is difficult. Even for a male. You know how high the drop out rate is during hell week."
"So you’re saying let the O’Sullivan lass compete and give it her best shot?"
"That’s what I’m saying. Legally we can’t stop her applying, but physically I don’t think she is capable."
"Then why are you training her?"
"So I can keep an eye on developments," Seamus said, working at keeping the bite from his voice. He sighed inwardly. Hades, if he said it often enough then maybe even he’d come to believe.
CHAPTER TWO
"Where have you been?" Aislyn spared a quick glance at her watch before turning the full spectrum of her glare on him. "You said six o’clock. It’s almost seven. You promised to help me train and I’ve seen you once since you agreed to help. For all of five minutes."
Hell’s teeth. The female was a shrew. After the week he’d had, he wasn’t in the mood. "Surely, you can train with some of the other applicants?" Her pained gr
imace made his temper strain at the leash. "What have you done now? Turned someone into a rat? A frog? As a recruit, you should be practicing doing things without the use of magic. Can’t you do anything without stirring up trouble?"
The lass took a closer look at his face and rapidly back pedaled. "I’m sorry." She gestured toward the group of young males at the far end of the sports stadium. "The other applicants refuse to take me seriously. They won’t talk to me let alone train with me. And I haven’t turned anyone into a rat! Well, not since Moira."
Seamus tightened his jaw against the onslaught of a yawn. Bone-deep exhaustion weighed him down, making his thinking sluggish, his mood uncertain.
"I’m here now," he said in a terse voice. Unfortunately, one eyeful of Aislyn in her tight ice-blue tank top told him there was nothing amiss with his hormones.
"Bad day at work?"
"You could say that. Look, I can spare an hour. That’s all so we’d better get started. Tell me what you’ve done in the way of training during the last week."
"I can ride the dragonfly now without falling off, I’ve memorized the rules and regulations for the theory section, and I’ve started my weapons training." She wrinkled her nose when she mentioned weapons.
The sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose looked like fine gold dust, and Seamus fought the sudden urge to touch, to brush his hand over her cheek to see if her skin was really as soft as it appeared. Get a grip, he thought, giving himself a mental shake. Remember your promise to your mother and the board. You’ll be married by the end of the year to a fairy from another colony, a fairy with a sizable dowry. For the sake of the colony, he had to push this senseless attraction to Aislyn aside.
Aislyn shook his arm. "Seamus? Are you listening?"
"Yeah." Engulfed by her scent, Seamus steeled against the burst of groin-jolting sensation. "Uh, carry on. What else have you done?"
"That’s it so far. My shooting sucks, but I go to the range as often as I can afford. I know I can shoot the required number of targets. Practice--that’s all I need."