WE LEFT THE HOSPITAL TO FIND A BARRAGE OF REPORTERS. Someone had talked. We answered none of the yelled questions, although they got plenty of pictures of Doyle in a wheelchair. The fact that he'd accepted it at all proved how hurt he still was. Abe, on the other hand, had taken a wheelchair because he was lazy and liked attention, though he had to sit to one side to save his back. Halfwen had healed him, but again not completely. We weren't in faerie, and our powers weren't even close to their best.
The reporters knew what exit we were taking. Someone inside the hospital would take home money for either directing us to where the press waited or telling them where we were coming out. Either way, we were a moneymaking enterprise today.
Cameras blinded us. Hospital security had called the police before we even got outside, so there were other uniforms besides the two who still trailed us. Officers Kent and Brewer hadn't liked me as much since I had done magic on the doctor. They seemed afraid of me. But they did their duty. They walked in front and helped their fellow officers keep the crowd back.
There was a moment when the reporters pressed forward and the line collapsed toward us. Then my guards moved forward and the line steadied. Some of the men put their hand on the shoulder or back of the security guard or cop nearest them. I watched the humans stand a little straighter. It was as if by touch some of my guard could give courage and strength. I couldn't remember them ever being able to do that before, or was it just that the men who could do it had never been with me? What had I brought out of faerie with me into this modern world? Even I wasn't certain.
I watched them give courage with a touch, the way I could wake lust, and wondered if the touch would give them luck and courage for their day, or if it would fade like the lust I could inspire. When we had some privacy I'd ask.
There were too many of us for just one limo. There were two limos and two Hummers. One of each was black, the other white. I had time to wonder if someone had a sense of humor, or if it was an accident. I tried to help Doyle inside a limo, but Rhys moved me back so that Frost and Galen could help their captain inside. It seemed to take a long time. My vision was ruined with the flashing of cameras. Someone screamed over the mass of noise, "Darkness, why did King Taranis try to kill you?"
Rhys's hands tensed on my shoulders. Until that moment I, and probably he, had thought that some flunky had talked, but that one question said that whoever had talked to the press had known entirely too much. The only people who had seen what happened were security guards and lawyers, both professions that you were supposed to be able to trust. Someone had betrayed that trust.
We were finally inside the stretch limo. Abe was already lying on his stomach on the main seat. Doyle sat in one of the side seats, stiffly upright. I moved to sit with him, but he motioned me toward Abe. "Let him rest his head in your lap, Princess."
I frowned at him, wanting to ask why he was pushing me away. My expression must have asked for me, because he said, "Please, Princess."
I trusted Doyle. He had to have his reasons. I sat on the end of the big seat and eased Abe's head into my lap. He rested his cheek against my thigh, and I stroked the heavy weight of his hair. I'd never seen it braided before, like a Goth version of a candy cane, black, gray, and white. I guess they'd had to keep his hair away from the wound on his back somehow.
Frost sat on the seat opposite Doyle. Galen moved to take a seat, but Doyle said, "Take the second SUV. Rhys will take the first. We have too many guards who know only faerie. Be their modern eyes and ears, Galen."
Rhys patted him on the back. "Come on."
Galen gave me an unhappy look, but he did as he was told.
It was Frost who said, "We need Aisling in here."
"And Usna," Doyle said.
Frost nodded as if that made sense to him. It didn't to me, not yet. But then I hadn't had centuries of battle to get me past that shock and disorientation that seemed to follow like a fog.
The door shut, and we had a few minutes while Rhys and Galen fetched the men they had asked for. "Why them?" I asked.
"Aisling was exiled from the Seelie because their sithen, their faerie mound, recognized him as the king in this new land, not Taranis," Doyle said. His voice sounded normal, not even a hint of tightness. Only his arm in its sling tied tightly to his chest and the bandage across his face showed what his voice should have held.
"So he needs to know that Hugh is trying to give away his kingdom," I said.
"No," Abe said from my lap. "It is not Aisling's kingdom now."
"But the sithen used to choose the ruler," I said.
"Yes," Abe said, "as the Lia Fail stone did once for the kings of Ireland. But the sithen can be a fickle thing. It liked Aisling more than two hundred years ago. He's not the same man who was exiled. Time has changed him. The Seelie mound may not want him now." Abe's voice sounded tired, trailing off around the edges.
I put my hand against his cheek. That one small touch made him smile.
"Usna's mother is still a favorite at the Seelie Court," Frost said, "and she still speaks to her son."
"So Usna might know if Hugh was part of a plot to get rid of Taranis," I said.
Frost nodded. Doyle said "Yes."
I looked at both their faces, so distant and cold. It reminded me of the way they had been when they first came to me. Why were they being like this? I was royal, so I shouldn't show weakness by asking. But I was also in love with them, so while there was only Abe to witness it, I asked. "Why are you both being so distant?"
They exchanged a look, and even through the bandages on Doyle's face I didn't like that look. It promised nothing that I would want.
"You are not with child, Meredith," Doyle said, voice still so controlled. "You are beginning to make it clear that you have chosen us. But if you are not pregnant then we are not your king. You must look at the other men with more favor."
"You get badly hurt and you go all crazy on me," I said.
Doyle tried to turn his head and look directly at me, but apparently that hurt too much, so he had to turn his whole body. "It is not crazy. It is sanity. You must not give your heart where your body does not go."
I shook my head. "Don't make decisions for me, Doyle. I am no longer a child. I choose who comes to my bed."
"We fear," Frost said, and he didn't look happy saying it, "that your caring for us is making it difficult for the other men."
"I'm sleeping with them. Considering that we've only been back a few weeks, I think I've given them plenty of attention."
Frost gave a small smile. "Sex is not all that a man craves, even after a thousand years of abstinence."
"I know that," I said, "but I only have so many hearts to give."
"And that," Doyle said, "is the problem. Frost told me how you behaved when I was injured. You cannot play favorites, Meredith, not yet." A look of pain crossed his faced, but I didn't think it had anything to do with his injuries. "You know I feel the same, but you must be with child, Meredith. You must, or there will be no throne, no queenship."
Abe spoke, his hand resting on my leg beside his head. "Hugh didn't say Merry had to breed to be queen of the Seelie. He just offered her the throne."
I tried to remember exactly what Sir Hugh had said. "Abe's right," I said.
"Perhaps magic is worth more to them than babies," Frost said.
"Perhaps," Doyle said, "or perhaps Hugh plays some other game."
The limo door opened, and we all jumped, even Doyle and Abe. Abe allowed himself a small pain sound. Doyle was silent, only his face showing the pain for a moment. By the time Usna and Aisling had climbed into the car, it was back to its usual stoic expression.
The two new men found seats. Usna sat beside Frost, Aisling beside Doyle. Doyle said, "Tell them to drive."
Frost hit the intercom button. "Take us home, Fred."
Fred had been driving for Maeve Reed for thirty years. He'd grown gray and older, while she remained beautiful and untouched by the years. He said, "Do you want the cars to stay together, or do you want me to try to outrun the press?"
Frost looked at Doyle. Doyle looked at me. I had had more experience than any of them in being pursued by the press. I hit the intercom button above me, though I had to stretch for it. "Fred, don't try to outrun them. Today they'll hound us. Just get us home in one piece."
"Will do, Princess."
"Thanks, Fred."
Fred had been dealing with the "royalty" of Hollywood for decades. He seemed unimpressed with real royalty. But I guess when you've been driving the Golden Goddess of Hollywood around, what's a princess to that?
