Excerpt

A Highlander's Destiny
Pocket Books, 1/10

PROLOGUE 

 “Watch your step, Adira, there’s another body here at the foot of the stairs.” 

For a moment, Adira Ré Alyn ignored the hand Flynn Dá Anan extended to assist her in her descent. But that moment was long enough to remind him of his place. That and the haughty look she sent his way.

 “If you please, Mistress.” He continued to hold his hand out, but he’d lowered his eyes. As he should.

 “Very well.” With a nod of her head, she accepted his assistance.

It was important she maintain the distance between herself and her servants. It was bad enough she’d had to rely on Flynn and Dermond so heavily since Reynard’s disappearance. Apparently that reliance had given Flynn the impression he was important to her. Indispensable.

He needed to be taught the fallacy of that particular assumption. Quickly.

Neither of Reynard’s lapdogs were of any consequence when compared to her. Not in this world. Not any longer. They were all Faerie full bloods, but she was also a Courtesan of Nuada and the acknowledged Mate to Reynard Servans. As such, in his absence she ruled their sect in his stead. One day, they would all acknowledge her as their queen.

She had no doubts there were some who worked behind her back to grab that power from her. She could feel it. But she would deal with them all in good time.

Somehow.

What she needed was an edge. Something to consolidate the authority in her hands until Reynard returned.

If he returned.

No one had seen him since he’d gone on his last foray to find a female descendent of the Fae. A female who could lead them back home to the Realm of Faerie and end their exile on the Mortal Plain.

“This way, Mistress.” Flynn bowed his head, averting his eyes.

Good. He’d gotten the message. At least for now.

Pushing an errant lock of long red hair from her face, she followed carefully.

“You’re certain your man saw to it that the Mortals were trapped before the explosion?”

"Absolutely, Mistress.”

Adira didn’t miss Flynn’s shifty sideways glance. His loyalty wasn’t to be trusted. Not that it mattered anymore. Now that she knew how The Renewal was accomplished, she could handle all future arrangements for herself if necessary.
    
She had never suspected The Renewal was such a simple process. It only required bringing about the untimely death of a mortal to release the life essence she so desperately needed. Without that essence, she would wither and age.
    
But not die. She would never die.
    
That was the fate that hateful bitch, the Earth Mother, and her High Council of the Realm of Faerie had decreed for the Nuadians when they’d been banished to the Mortal Plain. Banished from all contact with their magic and the Fountain of Souls.
    
The thought of living for untold centuries as a creature decrepit with age, weak and wrinkled, was beyond any horrors Adira could imagine. No, that was not a fate she would willingly accept.
Better to hasten the deaths of these pitiful Mortals. Force the life essence from their bodies before it was fated to leave and savor the rich flow of power and renewal.
    
“Are there none left alive?” Adira grew more irritable with each lifeless body they found, her suspicion growing that Flynn’s puppet had completely botched the job.
    
Though he didn’t answer her question, the stiffening of his back told her she’d touched on his own concern. He needed the life essence as much as she.

"Down this corridor, Mistress. We must hurry. The police will be arriving any time now.”
    
As if she cared about any Mortal authority figures. Thanks to the Earth Mother’s decree, no full blooded Fae could be killed here on the Mortal Plain. Just as they could not harm anyone. Oh, they could reach out a hand to stroke, to play, to love. But let a single intent of harming another flit through their thoughts and their bodies became transparent as smoke. The Fae could neither commit nor experience violence in the Mortal World.
    
A fist sent out in anger would pass right through any person or object. Just as any weapon aimed at them would pass through their bodies as if through a shaft of light.
    
No, she didn’t fear the police.
    
Still, the authorities could interfere unduly, so she picked up her pace. She nodded and followed Flynn’s tall form through the darkened building, carefully stepping over the twisted metal and body parts, heading toward the room where the men were to have been detained.
    
"Shoddy work, Flynn. Wasteful.”
    
His lack of response was wise. What excuse could he possibly give? He’d been sloppy with the compulsion he’d placed on the Mortal. Obviously the man had needed more specific instructions than he’d received.
    
Since violence was impossible for the Nuadian Fae, using Mortals to accomplish what they couldn’t do themselves was an inconvenient necessity. So many Mortals possessed weak spirits and even weaker minds. They only needed to find one of those and with a simple mental push, replace the Mortal’s will with their own in order to accomplish whatever they wanted.
    
Easy enough to do, but it required a great expenditure of energy, which was why she preferred to delegate that particular task to her subordinates.
    
That and the pain one could experience if the Mortal chosen had a stronger will and fought the compulsion.
Adira shuddered at the memory of such an experience far in the past.
    
No, she much preferred to delegate.  
    
In this case, Flynn had directed one of the weaker Mortals to detonate an explosive in this research facility. The location was secluded enough they should have had time to make their way through the building before anyone could arrive.
    
The only problem was that the Mortal Flynn had chosen had used too large an explosive and most people inside the building had died instantly or within minutes.
    
That did her no good at all.
    
Her only hope now lay in the men who had been locked in the outer room. Their injuries would be substantial enough that they likely wouldn’t survive either, but their distance from the center of the explosion should mean it would take a bit longer for them to die.

And that was key to Adira’s needs.
    
If she wasn’t there, physically present when their souls unwillingly departed their bodies, she couldn’t absorb the energy of the life essence that was given off by that process.   

Ahead of her, Flynn punched a code into the electronic lock, pressed his shoulder to the door and, with a superhuman effort, shoved it open.
    
She stepped inside to the certain knowledge that even here the damage was greater that it should have been.

" It appears the instructions you gave your little pet were unclear.” How hard it was to control the disappointment, the desperation she couldn’t allow to filter through her voice.

Flynn prodded at the rubble in the room, raising more of the fine, powdery dust that covered everything.
    
"Adira! Over here. One yet lives.”
    
He’d found one! The news brought her such joy she chose to ignore even his familiar use of her name.
    
Nearing the Mortal, she could see it would be only a matter of moments. Not long to wait now. Quickly, she crouched over him, eager to breath in the essence which would erupt from his body as his life force was torn away.
    
But the uncooperative fool still struggled to hang onto his miserable life. He lifted one bloody hand to her leg, capturing the hem of her white designer pants in his weakening grip.
    
"Am I dying?” he asked through mangled lips.
    
"Yes, you are.” She purred her response, her excitement growing.
    
His eyes flickered shut and she waited impatiently for signs of his end. Instead he stubbornly clung to his soul a little longer, his hand sliding up her leg leaving a bloody trail on the expensive fabric.
    
"“Are you an angel?”
    
His voice was weaker and the knowledge of what she would shortly receive from him emboldened her, excited her, drawing a sharp burst of laughter that surprised even her.

"You may think of me as the angel of death if you like.” She lifted his hand from her leg, taking one long finger into her mouth, curling her tongue around the digit, sucking.

Adira barely noticed his eyes open wide in shock, remaining open even when the life behind them ebbed away.
    
Her vision faded as her attention centered on the intense physical sensations gripping her body. The tang of copper and salt permeated her senses, sending an electric jangle through her limbs. The feeling intensified, as if her veins inflated inside her body, growing larger and larger until she felt as though she might burst, filled to overflowing with an unfamiliar energy coursing through her.

It felt of power, pure and simple, so concentrated she almost missed the Mortal’s last breath and the opportunity to capture the essence she had waited for so impatiently.
    
And then it was hers.
    
With one deep breath she could feel her skin smoothing, her vitality returning, even as the strange new energy swirled through her being.
    
"Are you well, Mistress?”
    
Adira glanced up to Flynn, surprised at the concern in his voice. Even in the dusty gloom of this room, the outline of his body fairly sparkled, as if she viewed him through foreign eyes. Eyes that saw so sharply, every strand of his long golden hair stood out individually.

"Of course I’m all right,” she answered, accepting his hand to help her stand, her legs unexpectedly shaky. She couldn’t remember anything like this happening before.
    
As she rose to her feet, the first sirens sounded.
    
Irritation raged through her mind. The Mortals couldn’t harm her, but it meant an inconvenience she didn’t wish to encounter.

The desire to vent her frustration was strong. She drew back her foot to kick the corpse of the aggravating Mortal whose pitiful, futile struggle to live had delayed her.
    
Her blow landed in the man’s side with a solid thwack, throwing her off balance and shooting pain through her toe. She grabbed for the wall to steady herself, her mind reeling with the shock of what she’d just experienced.
    
It wasn’t possible!
    
Her foot should have gone straight through the man. Where had this new ability come from?
    
Her mind raced, searching through recent memories for something, anything, to explain what was happening to her.
    
One action stood out in her mind.
    
Could it be the Mortal’s blood? It was only after she’d tasted the blood she’d felt the wave of power wash over her.
    
"I believe we can still make it out of here through the back unnoticed if we hurry, Mistress.” Flynn spoke from his position at the end of the hallway, his hand lifted to motion her forward.
    
He hadn’t seen!
    
She hurried to him, following his lead mutely, her mind otherwise occupied.
    
This was it, the edge she’d prayed for. She wouldn’t need to hunt weak-minded Mortals to do her bidding any longer. She could pick up a weapon, set her own explosives, do whatever she wanted. She could create an entire army of her own faithful Fae to do her bidding, each with the ability to battle on the Mortal Plain.

With power such as this, no other Nuadian would ever be able to challenge her. She wouldn’t just be queen of their sect, she could demand the obeisance of all the Nuadians inhabiting the Mortal world.

And all thanks to the blood of one obstinate Mortal.
    
She wanted to laugh out loud at the pure, blind luck of the situation. She had thought only to taunt the dying man and look what she’d discovered. What wonderful fortune smiled on her this day!

Possibilities and plans crowded her mind, each more brilliant and compelling than the one before until, at last she and Flynn reached the back of the building and slipped through the door and a new idea pushed aside everything else.
    
If a pitifully weak Mortal’s blood could give her this kind of power, what might she receive from the blood of a Fae?