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He turned to Doyle. "What do you think? I would not risk Meredith's safety for anything, but we are badly in need of allies, and a sidhe that has been exiled from faerie for a century might be willing to risk much to come back."
"You're suggesting that Maeve wants to help Meredith to be queen," Doyle made it half question, half statement.
"If Meredith is queen, then she could offer Maeve a return to faerie. I do not think that Taranis would risk all-out war for one returned exile."
"You really think a royal of the Seelie Court would be willing to come to the Unseelie Court?" I asked.
Frost looked down at me. "Whatever prejudices Maeve Reed might once have had against the Unseelie, she has been without the touch of fey hands for a century." He raised my hand to his mouth, kissed my fingertips, blowing his breath along each of them before he touched me. It brought shivers up and down my skin. He spoke with his mouth just above my skin. "I know what it is to want the touch of another sidhe and be denied. I at least had the court and the rest of faerie to comfort me. I ca
It took effort, but I drew my attention away from Frost to look at Doyle. "Do you think he's right? Do you think she's looking for a way back into faerie?"
He shrugged, making the leather of his jacket creak with the movement. "Who can say, but I know that after a century of isolation, I certainly would be."
I nodded. "All right then, we're agreed. We go in."
"We are not agreed," Rhys said. "I'm going in under protest."
"Fine, protest all you want, but you're outvoted."
"If something really awful happens to us in there, I get to say I told you so."
I nodded. "If we're alive long enough for you to say it, knock yourself out."
"Sweet Goddess, if we die that quickly, I'll just have to come back and haunt you."
"If there's anything in there that can kill you, Rhys, I'll have died long before you."
He frowned at me; even through the beard I could see it. "That isn't comforting, Merry, that isn't comforting at all." But he turned around to face the big gates and leaned out his open window to press the intercom and a
Chapter 7
Ethan Kane wasn't as tall as he seemed. He actually was about Rhys's height, but always seemed bigger, as if he took up more room in some way that had nothing to do with physical size. His short hair was a dark brunette, almost but not quite black. He wore glasses with no frames, so they were almost invisible on his face. Ethan should have been handsome. He was broad shouldered, athletically built, square jawed, with a deep dimple in his chin. The eyes behind the glasses were long-lashed and hazel. His clothes were tailored to his body so he'd fit in with the stars he usually ran with. He had everything going for him but personality. He always seemed to be disapproving of something; a perpetual sour expression stole all his charm.
He stood with one hand gripping the other wrist, feet wide apart, balanced. He frowned down at us from just outside Maeve Reed's large double doors. We were all standing at the foot of the marble steps that led up to those doors. Ethan's men were ranged among the graceful sweep of white pillars that supported the roof of Maeve Reed's narrow porch. It was huge and imposing, but there was no room to put out chairs and have iced tea on hot summer nights. It was a porch for looking at, not for enjoying.
Four men, obviously hired muscle, ranged on the steps between us and Ethan, and the door. I recognized one of them. Max Corbin was nearing fifty. He'd been a bodyguard in Hollywood most of his adult life. He was an inch shy of six feet and built like a box, all angles, squares, including huge knuckled hands. His grey hair was cut in a long butch cut, which made it look stylish and cutting edge, but Max had had the same haircut for forty years. His nose had been badly broken enough times that it was crooked and just a little squashed. He probably could have traded his designer suit for a nose job and fixed it, but Max thought it made him look tough. It did.
"Hi, Max," I said.
He nodded at me. "Ms. Gentry, or should I say, Princess Meredith?"
"Ms. Gentry is just fine."
He smiled, a quick flash of humor, before Ethan's voice cut across us both, and Max's face went back to blank bodyguard stare. That stare says we see nothing and will remember nothing, and we see everything and will react at the blink of an eye. Your secrets are safe with us, and so is your body. Bodyguards do not work in Hollywood if they get a reputation for tattling to the press, or anyone else.
"What are you doing here, Meredith?"
Ethan and I didn't know each other well enough to use first names, but that was okay, because I was going to do the same to him. "We're here at Ms. Reed's invitation, Ethan. Why are you here?"
He blinked at me, the slightest flexing of shoulders letting me know that something was bothering him, or his shoulder holster didn't fit quite right. "We're Ms. Reed's bodyguards."
I nodded, smiled. "I figured that. You must not have been on the job long."
"What makes you say that?"
I felt the smile widen. "You've got most of your muscle here. If Kane and Hart were all booked up, we'd be getting more referrals."
His frown deepened. "I've got a lot more than just four employees, Meredith, and you know it." He said my name like it was a bad word.
I nodded. I did know it. "Is there a reason you're keeping us out here, Ethan? Ms. Reed was very concerned that we see her today, not tonight, but today." I glanced up at the sun sinking behind a stand of eucalyptus trees near the distant sweep of wall. "It's late afternoon, Ethan. If you keep us out here much longer, it'll be night." It was an exaggeration; we had hours of daylight left, but I was tired of standing around.
"State your business and maybe we'll let you in," Ethan said.
I sighed. I was about to be blunt even for a human being; it was beyond blunt for a fey, but I just didn't care. I wanted to go away someplace quiet and think. Frost was standing a little back and to one side, and Doyle mirrored him, but they both stood so that they were somehow clearly facing off with the bodyguards on the steps. Rhys was standing nearly in front of Max, gri
Kitto did not face off with the last bodyguard. He stood just a little behind me, almost but not quite hiding. He looked oddly out of place in his short-shorts, tank top, and child-size Nikes. He'd put on black wraparound sunglasses, but aside from that he could have passed for someone's nephew, the kind that usually isn't a nephew at all but a boy toy. Kitto always managed to give off the vibe that he was subservient, someone's toy, or victim. I had no idea how he'd survived among the goblins.
I looked at everyone facing off, Ethan standing on the steps like some slightly taller version of Napoleon, and shook my head. "Ethan, you want to know why Ms. Reed called us, when she's already hired you. You're wondering if you're all about to be replaced."
He started to protest.
I said, "Ethan, please, save it for someone who cares. I'll save you all the power plays. Ms. Reed hasn't told us exactly why she wants us here, but she wanted to talk to me, not my guards, so I think we're all safe in assuming she doesn't want us for bodyguard duty."