A Caress of Twilight

I gripped Kitto's hand more firmly. "I'm sure."

"Then follow me, Princess, gentlemen." He started down the hallway that Maeve had fled down, and we followed. Doyle insisted on walking first and insisted that Frost go last. I ended up in the middle with Rhys on one side and Kitto on the other. Rhys took my other hand and tried to get me to skip down the hallway, while he hummed "We're off to See the Wizard" under his breath.

Chapter 12

Julian led us through one expensive room after another until we ended up at the pool. It was blue and flashed light, like a broken mirror. Maeve sat in the shadow of a big umbrella. She was wrapped tightly in a white silk robe. She'd given us the briefest glimpse of a gold and white bathing suit before tying the robe tightly in place, so that only her perfectly pedicured feet showed. She was smoking, taking furious puffs and grinding out the cigarette before it was halfway done. Julian had been granted the unenviable task of lighting the cigarettes for her with a gold lighter from the small tray that held the cigarette box. Lighting the cigs wasn't the unenviable part of the job -- trying to calm Maeve down was the hard part.

She had put her glamour back on like a well-worn shirt. She was still beautiful, but she looked like Maeve Reed the movie star again, though a very stressed version. Anxiety flowed off of her in waves.

The other bodyguards, including young Frank and Max, had come back to stand around the pool and look menacing. Some of the menacing seemed to be directed at us, but we didn't take it personally, or at least I didn't. I wasn't 100 percent sure about my men. Whatever they felt, they were keeping it to themselves.

Maeve insisted on all of us sitting in full sun. I wasn't sure why, but I could guess. Superstition said that the Unseelie Court couldn't abide sunlight. In truth, some could not, but no one with me had that problem. Kitto's eyes were light sensitive but nothing he couldn't handle with dark glasses.

I didn't burst Maeve's bubble. She was still obviously shaken, making sure all that lovely body was covered by the silk robe, and she'd moved from smoking to drinking while we got arranged in chairs. At least the alcohol didn't invade my stomach without my consent. So, personally, I found it a step up. If Maeve got drunk, I might change my mind.

Julian sat on a much smaller chair, pulled up beside her lounge chair. She'd insisted on him being close enough that his shoulder touched the back of her chair. The rest of the Kane and Hart bodyguards stood at her back like three ladies-in-waiting, albeit muscular, well-armed ladies-in-waiting.

Maeve had also insisted that I have my own lounge chair. I was a little too short, and so was my skirt, for a lounge chair; but I took it graciously. I just had to pay attention that I didn't flash too much leg and underwear. If it had just been other fey, I wouldn't have cared so much, but with more humans than fey standing around, we'd try to stay polite by human standards. Besides, I'd found years ago that if I let a bunch of strange human men see my underwear, they tended to get the wrong idea. Fey males would have enjoyed the show and never remarked on it.

Doyle and Frost stood at my back like good bodyguards. Rhys had gone with the personal assistant, Marie, to take off his disguise. Maeve had seemed fascinated by the fact that he'd used a human disguise instead of glamour to escape the press's attention.

Either her glamour was better than ours, or reporters simply didn't see her as anything but Maeve Reed, movie star. The word glamorous comes from the idea of faerie glamour; maybe seeing the truth behind a movie star's facade just wasn't what the press wanted to see.

Kitto sat beside me in his own little chair, but he did everything but perch on the arm of my lounge chair. Julian tried to keep a distance between himself and Maeve; Kitto made sure that he touched some part of my body continuously.

A human woman in her sixties came out of a nearby pool house. She wore a maid's outfit, complete with apron, though the skirt was suitably long and the shoes suitably sensible. She offered us all drinks, which we refused. Only Maeve kept drinking wine-dark Scotch. She'd started with ice, but when it melted she didn't replace it. Although she finished off a fifth of Scotch while we watched, there was no change in her. She was fey and we could drink a lot without getting even the least bit tipsy, but a fifth of Scotch is a fifth of Scotch, and I hoped she'd drunk enough to quiet her nerves and would stop there. She didn't.

"I'm going to have rum and coke. Would anyone else care for anything?"

"No, thank you," I said.

"I know that the men are working, yours and mine, so they shouldn't drink. It might spoil their reflexes." She put a little bit of the old Maeve Reed purr into her voice, a pale imitation of her usual suggestive-ness. Apparently, I hadn't broken her completely. "But you and I can indulge."

"I'm fine, but thank you for offering."

A small frown appeared between those perfect brows. "I really do hate to drink alone."

"I'm not much for Scotch or rum."

"We have an extensive wine cellar. I'm sure we could find you something to suit your tastes." She smiled, not the dazzling smile she'd started the visit with but a smile nonetheless. It was an encouraging sign, but I shook my head.

"I'm sorry, Maeve, but I really don't drink this early in the day."

"Early," she said, perfectly plucked eyebrow arching. "Honey, this isn't early by L.A. standards. If it's after lunch, it's perfectly acceptable to be drinking."

I smiled, gave a small shrug. "Thanks, but really, I'm fine."

She frowned at that, but nodded at the maid, who went off toward the house, to fetch Maeve's drink, I assumed.

"I really do hate to drink alone," she said again.

"I'm sure you've got a husband around here somewhere."

"You'll be meeting Gordon later after we've finished our business." There was no teasing now.

"And what business would that be?" I asked.

"It's private."

I shook my head. "We went over this with your flunky earlier in our office. Where I go, my bodyguards go." I glanced at her own personal wall of muscle. "I'm sure you understand that."

She nodded impatiently. "Of course I understand, but could they all sit just a little farther back so we could have some... girl talk?"

I raised my eyebrows at the girl talk, but let it go. I glanced at Doyle and Frost. "What do you guys think?"

"I suppose we could sit at the table in the shade while you and Ms. Reed have your... girl talk." Doyle managed to put a lot of disbelief in that last phrase.

I hid my smile by turning my head and looking at Kitto. He wasn't going to want to be in the shade of the umbrella. I didn't even bother to ask.

"Doyle and Frost will sit at the table, but Kitto has to stay with me."

Maeve shook her head. "That is not acceptable."

I shrugged. "It's the best you're going to get if you insist on being outside in the open like this."

She cocked her head to one side. "That is awfully blunt for a princess of the sidhe. In fact, you've been very blunt, nay rude, for a princess of the blood."

I fought an urge to look back at Doyle. "I could say I was raised out among the humans."

"You could, but I don't think I'll believe you." Her voice was very quiet, almost angry. "No one that human would be so favored by the Lady and the Lord as you were just moments ago." She shivered, pulling her robe tighter around her shoulders. It was eighty and the sun was warm and soft. If she was cold, it wasn't the kind of cold that a robe could help.

I did the best bow I could, sitting in the lounge chair. "Thank you."