Warriors of Poseidon 04 - Atlantis Unmasked

guarded secret. Grace double-checked the sheaths strapped to her legs and then started toward shore.
     
    The voice came out of nowhere, deep, lyrical, and drenched with magic. Forest magic, if she had to guess, since a certain tonal quality resonated through her body like the hands of a virtuoso caressing a violin. “There is something oddly compelling about a woman wearing nothing but a silver dagger and a wooden stake strapped to very lovely thighs. If I had not other, darker business to discuss, I would be pleased to play with you for many hours this night.”
     
    As if his voice had opened a window in her senses, she could see him. Fae, of course, as his voice had told her. Tall and lean. Waist-length hair of purest silvery white lifting away from his face in the gentle breeze. Dressed in simple dark clothes that gave no hint as to his identity.
     
    But he didn‟t need a cloak or crown to announce his rank. The moonlight focused a spotlight on him as if Nature herself preened and flirted in his presence. Fae royalty.
    Only they had the power to glamour even her from this distance.
     
    She took another step, then stopped. Considered drawing the dagger, but realized the uselessness of the gesture. Clenched her hands into fists slightly behind her back, so Atlantis Unmasked - Warriors of Poseidon 04
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    he could not see the effort it cost her, then pushed at the glamour. Narrowed her eyes and opened her Sight.
     
    Damn. He was still glowing.
     
    “This is not naked. It‟s a very conservative swimsuit. If you can‟t tell the difference, you‟ve been out of touch for a few decades. Not to mention the fact that I only play when I choose to do so. But of course you‟re not just royalty, you‟re Seelie Court, so you‟re probably not used to rejection,” she called out, after inclining her head in acknowledgment of his position, his royalty, and the fact that he could squash her like a bug.
     
    Still, she wasn‟t going to curl up in a ball, either. “I think you‟re in the wrong place, Your Lordship.”
     
    “I am never in the wrong place, lovely Grace, descendant of Diana,” he replied, inclining his head to her as if to an equal.
     
    Damn, damn, double damn. He knew who she was. What she was. And it‟s not like she could bring her bow with her when she swam, or one of the iron-tipped arrows she kept in her quiver for the occasional rogue Fae. Why would he be here, now? Why her? The Fae were chillingly indifferent to the sorrows and concerns of the rest of the world. They still harbored a certain animosity over being outed by the vampires, but they considered themselves to be far, far above the hustle and flow of the concerns of humanity. If asked to anticipate a visitor, Grace sure as heck wouldn‟t have guessed elf. In fact, despite the rumors that the Fae had a special connection to her family line, she‟d never spoken face-to-face with an elf in her life.
     
    She wouldn‟t have picked tonight to start, if it were up to her, either.
     
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    As if her thoughts were the goad to his actions, he lifted one hand and her bow—that had been in the trunk of her car—suddenly hung from his fingers.
     
    He was holding her bow, and it wasn‟t hurting him.
     
    “It is a beautiful bow, but of course you knew that.” He caressed the curve of the wood, and his mouth slowly tilted into a smile of such terrible, dangerous beauty that she imagined women by the thousands had thrown their naked bodies at his feet just from the sight of it.
     
    Strangely, she was unmoved.
     
    “How can you touch my bow?” she demanded.
     
    “Its wood is from the glades in my forest, willingly gifted to Diana‟s kin for their use. Of course I can touch it. It responds to my hand and to my call.”
     
    He lifted his gaze from the bow and pinned her in place with his stare. “I offer truce and parlay, Grace, daughter of Diana, on my word as Rhys na Garanwyn, High Prince of the High House of the Seelie Court. Please come to shore and let us talk of enemies, alliances, and how we might be of service to each other.”
     
    High prince, High House. Yeah. She was seriously out-matched. In a split second, Grace weighed her options and found herself with only one choice. She headed toward shore.
     
    As she stepped onto dry sand a cautious ten feet or so away from him, he bowed deeply and, rising, held out to her a pile of green-and-gold silk.