Cinnabar Taithligh hesitated, eyeing Princess Iseabal in the hope she might change her mind. How was she meant to acquire answers while stuck in this feathered form?
Finally, wary of the princess’s changing expression, her thinning lips and narrowed eyes, Cinnabar flapped her russet-colored wings and lifted into the air.
On the plus side, this was freedom of a sort. She’d enjoy her time away from the princess and her uncertain temper while she spied on the two men who’d caught Princess Iseabal’s interest.
The twins hurtled up the hill, and Cinnabar hustled to catch them, flapping her wings harder and faster to arrow through the sky. Normally, Princess Iseabal ordered Cinnabar to stay near. Even when the curse relaxed at midnight and she reverted to her true form, her options for exercise were limited. She was paying for the lack of fitness now, her heart drumming against her feathered breast.
The pair laughed as they walked, their jocularity relaxing Cinnabar and making her wish for the power of speech. Owl screeches were restricting. At the top of the hill, they slowed as if reluctant to reach their destination. This gave her a chance to scrutinize them more closely. Both tall with black hair, they possessed muscular bodies and held themselves in the same manner. Twins. Of course, the pair would intrigue the princess. She’d think their discovery was kismet, something meant to be.
Once Cinnabar passed the brow of the hill, she saw they were headed for the old resort. The place had changed since she and the princess had first left Seelie long ago to explore. The buildings were no longer unkempt and unloved. Someone had repainted the bungalows in white with red trim, replaced the roofs with new thatch, and tamed the tangle of colorful plants and vines.
Now a selection of variegated leafy bushes lined the paths, their vivid blue and white flowers perfuming the air like exotic market spices. Tall trees with bright coral-colored trunks and green-and-coral foliage cast shade over the gravel walkways. A group of women lounged around a pool, fruity drinks at hand. Appetizing meat snacks had Cinnabar’s stomach rumbling. A shiny new fence encircled the entire resort.
Inside the resort enclosure, the two men parted. Cinnabar followed the one the princess had picked, something about his confident stride differentiating him. He stopped to speak with a dark-haired man and a petite woman. A brother? Her quarry hugged the woman, laughing when the other man grumbled in protest.
Cinnabar landed in a tree above their heads and the threesome glanced up. Surprise froze her in place. No one noticed her unless she perched beside the princess in the castle grounds.
“An owl,” the woman said. “I’ve never seen one here before.”
The two men regarded Cinnabar with interest. Yes, brothers. They had short black hair, similar features and the same green eyes. Handsome men, while in contrast, the woman appeared plain. Interesting.
A small boy ran down the path, and the woman’s face bloomed with the joy Cinnabar used to see on her parents’ faces when they were still alive. One of the men patted the boy on the head, his love as visible as the woman’s. Their obvious regard lightened Cinnabar’s heart, and she wished for a visit with these people, under more normal circumstances.
She listened to their chatter and discerned nothing of interest. Cinnabar flitted to another tree nearer the pool to eavesdrop. The women hailed from different planets, as evidenced by the variations in hair, body and skin tone. Some of the races were familiar from knowledge she’d acquired from visitors to Seelie, while others—especially the ones with green skin and pointy teeth—were new to her.
“Has anyone been captured yet?” a Tigrus woman asked, her gold and tan skin stripes on display, since she wore nothing except a brief loin cloth.
A green woman spoke. All babble to Cinnabar. The other women understood, though, and laughed. Confused by the foreign language, Cinnabar flew to another tree and snooped on a separate set of women and the unhappy twin.
“Over here, waiter.” A tall, thin woman with waving tendrils instead of hair signaled the employee. “When will the captures take place?” the thin woman demanded, snapping her fingertips imperiously.
Cinnabar clacked her beak. A bird form of tsk-tsking. Rude woman. She wouldn’t last long around the princess.
The unhappy twin turned back to the guest. “The captures take place at any time, miss. Our capture committee likes to have a surprise element to make our guests’ experiences more real.”
“Any time?”
“Yes,” the twin said with a brisk nod. “Do you have further questions?” He waited a beat before hurrying to the next group of women to take drink orders.
Captures? The women came to the resort for this purpose? Intrigued, Cinnabar moved on to spy on other employees and guests.
“I’d love to get captured and spirited away for some hot s-sex,” a buxom lavender-colored woman shouted. She hiccupped her last word, obviously tipsy from downing too many colorful drinks.
A second shapely lavender woman sipped her purple beverage, listening and nodding to her friend. Their physical appearance reminded Cinnabar of their neighbors from Unseelie, although those from Unseelie were cobalt rather than lavender. Generations ago, they were outcasts from Seelie—enemies—their skins turned blue to differentiate them from the golden-skinned Seelie residents. These days, they lived in peace and aided each other in the season changes.
Cinnabar concentrated on the women’s conversation.
“My friend was captured during her resort visit. She said the sex was magnificent and she had trouble walking when she left. Best experience ever, she told me. She encouraged me to take my break here. There are so many attractive, fuckable men around this place.” The lavender lady leaned closer to her tipsy friend and jerked her head in a direction to Cinnabar’s right. “Him, for instance.”
Cinnabar shot to attention. It was him. The confident twin. Robust with muscles sculpted from physical labor, he made her breath catch. Self-assured, with a swagger that drew every female eye in the vicinity, the man possessed enough attitude to attract Princess Iseabal. Charm and kindness, too, Cinnabar noted with disappointment.
The man was too decent for the princess.
Princess Iseabal didn’t deserve a man like this, yet she’d have him, whether the man agreed or not.
Her eyes widened as a large black leopard trotted up to the confident twin. The twin straightened and followed the big cat away from the pool area. Curiosity prompted Cinnabar to flit after them.
The pair took a path, through an internal gate, past signs indicating the area was private, and entered a large bungalow. Several other bungalows clustered around the large one, and as Cinnabar watched, a number of dark-haired men and black cats arrived. Some of the men strolled up the path with women. The clear intimacy between the pairs indicated couples.
Brothers. They had to be, given their resemblance. Ah, a family. At least two of the women bore a resemblance to the men.
Cinnabar needed to listen to their conversation but entering the building… Dangerous. She settled for a window ledge and cocked her head, fascinated by the strangers. Perhaps it was the change in her monotonous routine, or maybe just determination to complete her assignment that grabbed her. After all, she had a slim chance Princess Iseabal might reverse the spell confining her to owl form if she completed her task.
More than anything, she wished for a return of her normal life. She’d never complain about lady-in-waiting duties again. Never. Not if she had two hands to work with and a voice with which to express herself.
A group of six men arrived, plus three more black leopards. They knocked and were invited into the building. The big cats…were they pets? Strange how they listened intently to the conversation.
Cinnabar’s curiosity grew. She must get closer. She needed to listen closely to answer Princess Iseabal’s questions.
One of the dark-haired brothers stepped forward and spoke. Unfortunately, Cinnabar was perched too far away, despite her excellent hearing skills.
Those who she’d decided weren’t family spoke one at a time, before everyone discussed the points raised—or at least that was what Cinnabar assumed. She had to get closer. She glanced at the door. Still open.
Before the next thought formed, she was inside the building.
“Where did that owl come from?” an older woman asked, breaking into the conversation.
Silence fell, and Cinnabar quivered, her heart speeding. Had she placed herself in danger?
“I saw it earlier in one of the trees near the swimming pool,” Confident Twin said.
“Are owls bad luck if they fly inside?” a tall woman asked.
“Only if they poop,” the older woman said dryly.
“Should we try to herd it outside, Ma?” another tall man with green eyes asked.
“No, leave it until we’re finished. Maybe it will fly outside by itself,” Ma said. “What do we think about the latest guest arrivals? Is there anyone worthy of a true capture?”
“There is a big lass who interests me,” a bulky man with blond hair said. “She is kind and has a sense of humor. My feline likes her. I do too. Her name is Rachel.” When no one else spoke, he continued. “I would like to keep her. Has anyone else noticed her? She has blue skin and pretty blue eyes.”
“He’s gone,” someone from the back teased.
“I trust my feline.” Creases of humor formed at the edges of the blond man’s eyes. “She’s beautiful.”
“Anyone else?” A stern man, also with black hair and green eyes, scanned everyone.
Fascinated, Cinnabar listened as they planned to kidnap—capture—the woman named Rachel. It sounded as if they intended to keep her here, rather than let her leave once her holiday ended.
The stern man nodded. “All right, Greg. This is what we’ll do. Scarlett can dig deeper into Rachel’s background while you spend more time with her. You need to be sure, because once we take the next step there is no going back. Are you all right with that?”
The blond man nodded decisively. “That sounds fair, Saber. I might ask Rachel to go on a picnic with me on the private beach.”
“Entice her to go skinny dipping,” one of the other men who Cinnabar thought was a brother suggested.
“That is a clever idea,” Saber said. “What do you think, Ma?”
“Romance her. Learn more about her yourself. Her job. Her life. Where she comes from. Talk to her and listen. Make her feel important and half your job is done. You’re a good man, Greg. Rachel will be lucky to have you as a mate.”
“All right,” Saber said. “Are there any other problems?”
“Yes,” another brother said. “Those green women and their pointy teeth. Can we assign them to the holo rooms, for a capture that way? Let them have their way with the sex-bots, because no breathing man or his cock is safe near those teeth.”
There was a moment of silence.
Ma broke it with a saucy chuckle. “Felix!” She chortled, humor lines fanning from her eyes. “Joe. Sly. You should see your faces.”
“Ma,” the unhappy twin—Joe—said, “Sly and I danced with them last night. Our backsides are bruised. We had to be nimble to keep ahead of them and their quick fingers.”
Confident Twin—Sly—rubbed his backside, which set off more jocularity.
Cinnabar remained perched on top of the curtain rail and listened to their teasing. At least she was learning their names. The twin she was interested in—no, the one Princess Iseabal intended to steal, was Sly. A strange name.
Confident she’d learned enough to appease the princess, Cinnabar exited the room and flew toward the private portal to Seelie. Her Seelie being sensed the opening and, once closer, a faint blue shimmer outlined the arched entrance. Cinnabar flew at the doorway.
Smack!
Stunned by the collision, Cinnabar dropped and hit the ground with a croak. A wheezy screech emerged from her beak. It took long seconds to right her aching body and gingerly stretch her wings. Nothing broken. Ruffled feathers poked out at odd angles though. Her head rang. Ding. Ding. Ding.
She limped closer to the portal and pressed one clawed foot against it. The solid surface refused to give. In desperation, she attempted to mind-speak, even though her success rate was nil.
Her mind remained silent.
Cinnabar screeched, stamping her right talon as she reached a horrid conclusion. She was stuck here until Princess Iseabal decided to open the door to Seelie for her.
* * * * *
Evening came and Sly wandered the resort, as did the rest of his brothers and staff, on the lookout for women on their own. As time passed, the clock ticking on toward midnight, he danced with several of the loners, using charm and gentle flirtation to make them glow with happiness. Saber grimaced at him from the dance floor, his partner one of the green women. Her pastel-green hair bore forest-green highlights and her right hand slid down his brother’s back.
When Sly winked, he received the big-brother frown, the one that said he needed to shake a leg and ask one of the green group to dance. With a quick mental prayer, Sly picked the nearest green lady. This one wore her hair piled on top of her head, her beam displaying pointy teeth as he firmly placed her hand on his shoulder.
Obviously, Joe and Felix had received the same silent order, along with several of their staff, because the dance floor became crowded with green ladies in slinky dresses.
A pair of fingers slid down Sly’s shirt-clad back and smoothed over his arse. His partner pinched his butt and he jumped.
“Stop doing that,” he snapped.
“But it would be rude not to express my thanks,” his partner said, the green of her compound eyes brightening with an inner light.
Sly froze. “That’s your way of saying thank you?”
“Yes. It is also a sign of friendship.”
Her teeth flashed, pointy and white. Sly barely suppressed a shudder when his thoughts veered to sex. So not gonna happen. Why the hell hadn’t Scarlett discovered this pinching custom during her research?
“Why do you pinch so hard?” he asked.
“Yes. Yes. The male of our species has armor to protect him from our teeth. We have to pinch hard to get through his hide.”
From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed his sister. Her hands covered her lower face and she stood with difficulty, leaning weakly against the wall, her shoulders shaking.
Suddenly, everything was clear. She had known of this custom, but decided not to tell her brothers or the rest of the staff.
He’d let Saber deal with their sister.
“None of us have armor and your pinches cause us pain. Can I suggest, if you wish to express your thanks during your stay here, you pat my shoulder, like so?” He demonstrated with a quick rub of her shoulder. “Or smile and dip your head? This way.” He showed her what he meant by performing the action. “And say thank you.”
The green lady caressed his shoulder, smiled and dipped her head. “Thank you.”
“That’s perfect,” Sly said, while attempting to hide his cringe at those white teeth. “Would you mind passing that on to your friends, please? If they do this, they’re more likely to receive requests to dance and make friends with the men here at the resort.”
“Yes. Yes,” the woman said and went through the sequence again. “Thank you.”
The music ended, and Sly escorted his partner back to her seat and the rest of her chattering green friends.
“Wait,” his partner said. “Yes. Yes. Let me demonstrate the correct method. Yes?”
Sly nodded as the woman spoke to her friends.
“Yes. Yes,” she said, turning to him. “This is the correct manner.” She performed the actions and offered her thanks. “Yes. Yes. Wait. They will want to practice.”
Great. He intended to take his break after this. A walk on the beach, where hopefully he wouldn’t meet any lecherous women intent on groping his arse.
Aware of his brothers’ gawks, he stood stoic while the entire group of females practiced saying thank you.
Half an hour later, he scanned the room for Saber and found him with Eva, his mate, discussing supper, which was eaten at midnight when everyone needed a break from dancing. He checked and realized it was almost time now.
“What was that about?” Saber asked.
“My dance partner pinched me, and I asked her why they did that. Evidently, it’s a sign of politeness and civility on their planet. I showed her a better way of expressing gratitude. Scarlett knew all about it but didn’t tell us. I saw her creep into the room and laugh so hard, she was having trouble standing.”
Saber’s brows drew together. “I’ll deal with Scarlett.”
“Good, because my butt is bruised,” Sly said.
“Mine too,” Saber said gruffly.
“Poor baby,” Eva cooed, her eyes full of laughter. “I’ll give you a massage later and kiss it better.”
An arrow of envy struck Sly even as he backed up, his hands clapped over his ears. “Please, spare me. I don’t want images of a naked Saber popping into my head.”
“You’d better not,” Saber growled, but his eyes gleamed as he wrapped his arm around Eva. “Take a break, Sly. You deserve it. Masterly job.”
The words of praise brought warmth to his heart, but he merely nodded.
“Collect a plate of food from the kitchen before you go,” Eva said.
“Thanks.” Sly lifted an arm in farewell. The scent of chocolate and cinnamon wafted to him as he neared the kitchen, plus hints of spicy tomato and cheese, or the Tiraq equivalent. His belly rumbled in anticipation.
Sly halted on the threshold and searched for his mother. Not there.
“Hey,” one of the workers said, his brows rising then drawing closer in a frown. His jet-black hair flopped forward and he flicked it away to reveal light purple eyes, narrowed in irritation. “You can’t be here. ’Tis busy.”
“Eva told me to collect food to take with me.”
The kitchen hand’s expression cleared to a grin. One of his front teeth was missing, creating a gap-toothed smile. “Miss Eva said?”
“Yes.”
“Okie-dokie. If Miss Eva said, it be all right. Stay there. I be right back.”
Sly obediently remained inside the kitchen door and out of the way. Someone had a crush on his sister-in-law. Saber had said she’d hired more staff from Dalcon, since none of their people wanted to work in the kitchen. They preferred the other jobs on offer around the resort.
“Here you be,” the kitchen hand said, producing a basket. “Manfred told me to pack a drink for you too. Who you be?”
“I’m Sly Mitchell.” Hard not to be charmed by this kid. “Eva is mated to my older brother.”
“Ah, Mr. Saber. I knows him. He be leader.”
“Yes, he is,” Sly confirmed. “What is your name?”
“Taiaha,” the kid said. “Miss Eva give job, room to live.” He rubbed his flat stomach. “Food and currency. Like it here.”
“I’m glad,” Sly replied.
Eva had grown up in a poor part of town on Dalcon, and she’d found a way to help other youngsters who labored under the same disadvantages. His sister-in-law had a big heart. “Catch you next time, Taiaha.” With a wave, Sly hustled to the beach while he wondered what Joe was up to right now. He considered searching for him, so they could play hooky together. In the end, he turned away from the center of the resort, unwilling to lose this slice of freedom.
The gravel path crunched under his boots and insects hummed, the sole sounds until he heard a masculine murmur and a giggle. He stepped off the path and into the shadows to avoid the approaching couple. An amorous pair.
A feline snarl—sharp and full of warning—gave him a clue as to the identity. It was Greg and his blue lady. Rob…no, Rachel. Sly waited until they’d passed before stepping back onto the path.
The gentle swish of waves lengthened his steps, and soon he stepped onto the sand, now dark but bearing a faint pinkish tinge during daylight. In fact, many things—plant and mineral—on this planet were pink. Something to do with the soil. The seawater, though, was a stunning jade green.
Sly scanned the beach and the faint tension in his shoulders released. Not a single enamored couple. Perfect.
He set the basket down to check his bounty. A blanket filled the top and he pulled it out, spreading it across the sand with a flick of his wrist. Starved, he opened a tin and pounced on the savories, consuming one then another. They went down with a quick swallow of crisp pastry and chunky meat in a rich gravy.
From where he sat, faint and romantic music drifted from the function room. Colored lights added ambience and the floral scent from the gardens seemed stronger at this time of the evening. He didn’t know the identity of the blue and white flowers but their fragrance reminded him of cookie spices.
A woman wandered along the path, the whiteness of her dress snaring his attention. Her face and hair hid in the shadows. She was behaving like a new arrival, her focus flitting from the sea to the gardens to the sand. As she drew closer, he heard her humming to the lilting music that drifted on the air. She started dancing, twirling closer and holding out her arms as if she had a partner.
The moon peeked from behind the cloud cover, allowing him a better glimpse. Red hair, long enough to reach the middle of her back. Her white dress bore a large red stain on the front, but the mishap, presumably from a spilled drink, didn’t seem to bother her.
Coming to a decision, Sly stood. “Would you like this dance?”
She jumped, her hand pressing to her breast, her steps faltering.
Blue eyes. She had blue eyes that reminded him of the owl he’d seen earlier, and her hair—it was the shade Ma described as strawberry blonde. He called it red. His first glimpse of her aroused his curiosity.
“Please, dance with me.” Sly held out his hand.
Her blue eyes widened to match her mouth, and a chuckle tickled his tongue. Instinct told him to hold back the burst of humor. He’d hate to scare her, and he’d learned a thing or two from watching his brothers’ interactions with their mates…
Holy crap. He shot a glance at the woman, his feline stirring in interest, in more inquisitiveness, in dazed wonder.
His hand remained stretched between them, and a howl of victory pressed against his chest as she extended her fingers. Don’t scare her. He tamped down his relief, noting her shy glances. He wrapped her hand in a gentle grasp and drew her closer. The scent of fresh flowers drifted to him. Not the same as the ones in the resort gardens, but something more delicate. More like the wild flowers of Earth.
“Ready?” His voice emerged gruff because the muscles of his chest had tightened. He—his feline—suddenly wanted to pounce.
“Yes,” she whispered, her smile timid.
He sensed she’d flee if he made the wrong move. Best behavior. He could do that. Sly listened to the music and waltzed, guiding his mystery woman around their sand dance floor.
“What is your name? My name is Sly. Sly Mitchell.”
“Cinnabar Taithligh.”
“I haven’t seen you around the resort. What happened to your dress?”
She glanced at the splotch of wine-red on her left breast and the skirt of her white gown. “An accident,” she said, her voice strangely hollow and despondent. “It was an accident.”
“We can find my mother. She might be able to get out the stain for you.”
“Thank you, but it’s all right. I think my dress is past hope. I wanted to enjoy my time here. The peace and the beauty.”
The music ended and another song commenced. Sly kept dancing, his interest aroused by this lovely waif. Some of the women who stayed at the resort were wealthy and brought servants with them. Was Cinnabar a servant? A Cinderella who wasn’t allowed to attend the ball? Full of questions, he drew her closer and enjoyed holding her, enjoyed her floral scent, enjoyed spending his free time with this mystery woman.
This time when the music ended, he drew back but retained his grip on her hand. “I came here to spend time alone and eat a picnic dinner.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I’ve interrupted your peace.”
“No, come and eat with me. Join me.”
When she hesitated, he tugged her hand.
“Thank you.”
Sly led her to the blanket he’d spread on the sand. He poured her a drink in his sole beaker and handed her two savories. Her stomach gurgled, and he laughed. “You’re hungry too. Eat. The kitchen staff packed plenty of food. I’ll never eat it all.” A lie. He could demolish this and more, but he’d grab food later. Right now, he wanted to spend his time with Cinnabar.
“Do you have family here? I’ve noticed men who resemble you.”
Sly took a savory and reclined, his elbow propping him up. “I have four brothers and quite a few cousins who have the same coloring as me. One of my brothers is also my identical twin. Do you have family?”
“No. Not any longer. Are your brothers older or younger than you?”
Sly shrugged inwardly. She didn’t seem to want to talk about herself. He’d listened to his sister and his brothers’ mates prattle. He knew how to chitchat if necessary. “I have three older brothers. My twin and I are next in line, then we have a sister. She’s the youngest.”
“Are you the oldest twin?”
“I am,” he said in surprise. “I’m four minutes older.”
She nodded. “I don’t think you’ve been on Tiraq for long.”
“No.” Sly studied the springy red curls framing her face, the anxious press of her pink lips as she worried about his reply. Why did he get the sense she was pumping him for information? He hesitated, then decided none of the answers were confidential. Anyone at the resort would have ready answers. “We come from a planet called Earth, and no, we haven’t been here long.”
“I visited the resort before when the owners had left it to grow wild,” she admitted. “I live on the Tiraq mainland. You’ve done wonders with the place.”
“We’ve worked hard to make it a success,” Sly said. “We’ve talked a lot about me. Where exactly on Tiraq do you live?” He sat up and handed her a piece of nectar fruit, watching her white teeth bite into the golden flesh. The juice ran down her chin. “Wait.”
She froze like a fuzzy zylon, alert to danger as he leaned closer.
He’d intended to use his fingers to wipe away the juice, but her enticing scent and her sharp intake of breath, dragged his thoughts off Good Intention Road. Instead, he turned onto Temptation Alley…and used his lips in a gentle kiss.
This close, he heard her rapid breathing, felt the pounding of her pulse, but she didn’t shy away from his touch. This was fast, maybe too fast, but unable to resist, he removed the remaining nectar fruit from her trembling fingers and tossed it aside. He eased her onto her back then trapped her with his chest and arms, telling himself she’d come to their resort for romance and the hope of a capture.
Her blue eyes rounded again and she quivered, but she never offered a protest as he lowered his head and made clear his intentions.
Then he was kissing her again, tasting her gently, savoring her curves pressing against his chest—and then everything in his world went topsy-turvy.