Rise of the Lost Prince by London Saint James Page A

over to him, placed
her nose to his neck and sniffed. “You are an elemental Fae of water. An
Undine.” She straightened. “You harness water, do you not?”
    “Yes,” he said, gazing at her
with his mouth slightly a gape. “I do.”
    “And, me?” asked Dash. “Do you know
what I am?”
    “I saw you teleport. You too are
of the warrior line.”
    Dash cocked his head. “As in
Seelie Sidhe Fae?”
    “Yes.” She turned her green-eyed
gaze to Vibe. “You too are Seelie Sidhe Fae, only of the order of Delphi. If
you recall what I said about our fallen King, the order of Delphi are the
keepers of fairy magic. You can do much more than implanting suggestions and
mind control. Much more than being an empath.”
    He shook his head. “No. I only—”
    “You can,” said Bell. “You just
haven’t learned all you are capable of.” She glanced over to Firefox. “You are
a Fae elemental as well, an Agni.”
    Firefox blinked, before he
glanced down at his hands, as if he were studying them.
    “And us?”
    That came from Tera, who was
standing next to Byte.
    “I’m not sure,” said Bell. Tera’s
mouth curled down at the corners, and Byte still looked, well, stoic. “I know
you’re Fae, but…” She glanced at them before strolling over and sniffing the
air. “You’re something else as well.” She turned and looked at Petúr. “Surely
you can detect the difference. They’re like us, yet unique.”
    Petúr nodded, however he remained
silent. Wyndi wondered if all this information was as overwhelming to him as it
was to her.
    “Would you like to see our home?”
Bell asked.
    Every man seemed to stiffen.
    Petúr sat forward. “You can show
us?”
    “I can.”
    Bell held out her small hand and opened
her palm—a little mound of glittering dust sat in the middle. She closed her
eyes, said something under her breath that Wyndi couldn’t discern, then blew.
The dust scattered out and started to form a swirl, mid-air. Twirling,
twirling…. Rotating into a ball which became bigger and bigger, until the ball
danced up toward the ceiling and exploded. Shimmering bits rained down, forming
a translucent wall, and there before everyone’s eyes a forest of green
appeared, like a silent movie gleaming on a screen.
    Petúr asked, “How are you doing
this?” His velvet voice sounding astonished.
    “Memories.”
    He reached out. “These are your
memories?”
    “Yes. I’m showing you my memories
of our home.”
    Water droplets sparkled within a
million facets upon the oversized leaves of trees, the picture moving as in
flight, scaling up and over a rock, covered in moss. Brilliant light cascaded
on an outcropping of ferns below. Hundreds of colorful butterflies burst into
sight and seemed to float up, up on air, gliding into a single shaft of
sunlight within a tight formation, before the image flickered and disappeared.

 
    Chapter Nine
     
    Petúr took hold of Wyndi’s hand,
leading her to the front doors of the castle, listening to her high heel shoes
clatter-tap out a cadence on the floor. With her pant suit ruined, she still
had one of his ten dollar T-shirts on, with her high fashion on her feet. Crazy
attire or not, he had to admit she looked as sexy as hell.
    When they stepped outside, he
glanced down at her. “Last night, you asked me what I could do.”
    She blinked up at him, those long
lashes of hers fluttering. “I remember.”
    He leaned down and picked her up
by the waist. She sucked in a breath. “Put your arms around my neck and hold
on.” She did without protest and he reveled in the feel of her incredible
breasts pressed into him. “Don’t scream.”
    “Excuse me?”
    He straightened and ran with her,
crossing over the hologram threshold, then leapt, taking flight.
    “Oh-my-God-oh-my-God,” she
spluttered, nails sinking into the nape of his neck, kicking.
    “Put your legs around my waist
and stop the kicking.”
    Immediately, she wrapped her legs
around him, clinging like a burr while