The holiday merrymakers had moved on to other celebrations, to their own homes to tuck expectant children into their beds and indulge in a final eggnog before retiring themselves, in anticipation of a visit from old Saint Nick. The house was quiet now, the strains of the quartet long ago faded to echoes in the rafters. Yes, the fête of the season which the whole community looked forward to, and Davina Devlin did not disappoint. The guests were resplendent in their holiday finery, sipping champagne and gliding around the dance floor graceful waltzes followed by upbeat foxtrots, the tuxedoed quartet she’d hired for the evening playing without rest for hours. All evening, the bite of cold from outside sliced through the foyer as friends and neighbors and assorted other merrymakers dropped into the Devlin’s annual Christmas open house, the fête of the season, a non-stop flow of cheeks to kiss and arms to embrace. Waistcoated servers had kept the table of hot hors d\’oeuvres replenished in a never-ending procession of lobster rolls and prime rib pasties and savory vegetable tarts the champagne flutes topped with the bubbliest vintage, no guest needing to worry about an empty glass at any point during the night.
It was a stunning display, and she had outdone herself that year.
The tree was strung with garland and twinkling lights that reflected on hundreds of glass and crystal ornaments, the crowning star unfurling ribbons of red velvet that cascaded down the branches like a rich waterfall of blood, slashing through the blue-green needle-tipped boughs. Eighteen glorious feet of Fraser fir, trucked in from some far-off farm on the opposite end of the state and stood upright at the base of the wide, curving staircase, giving guests who wandered up to the second floor a view of the upper branches. Davina, that tree is simply magnificent! You’ve outdone yourself this year, darling! It was true, she thought dreamily, gazing up at the coniferous wonder. Passions undreamed of await us–and my enemies gather, for the future of both courts of faerie begins to unravel.Everyone had said so, each guest who’d come through that night, doffing their furs into the arms of a waiting servant, air-kissing her cheeks in the glow of the twinkling golden lights. The gentlest of my guards will find new strength and break my heart. The Darkness will weep, and Frost will comfort him. My guards and I will show all of faerie that violence and sex are as popular among the sidhe as they are among the lesser fey of our court. I will find new joys with the butterfly-winged demi-fey. Pain and pleasure await me–and danger, as well, for some at that court seek only death. Our passion will reawaken powers long forgotten among the warriors of the sidhe. I need my allies now more than ever, especially since fate will lead me into the arm of Mistral, Master of Storms, the queen’s new captain of her guard. The threat will drive us to allow human police into faerie for the first time in our history. Enemies unforeseen move against us–enemies who would murder the least among us. Some Unseelie nobles have waited centuries for my aunt Andais, Queen of Air and Darkness, to become weak enough that she might be toppled from her throne. But not all the assassination attempts are his. My cousin Cel strives to have me killed even now from his prison cell. But at what price does such magic come? How much of my human side will I have to give up, and how much of the sinister side of faerie will I have to embrace? To sit on a throne that has ruled through bloodshed and violence for centuries, I might have to become that which I dread the most.Įnemies watch my every move. The Unseelie Court infuses me with its power. I am Meredith Gentry, P.I., solving cases in Los Angeles, far from the peril and deception of my real home–because I am also Princess Meredith, heir to the darkest throne faerie has to offer.