Salvatore, sitting a bit down the table from where Fiona sat, just stared at her. As long as he'd known her he'd never seen her in anything vaguely resembling sexy. When she wore a dress in the bar, it was generally speaking something tailored and simple, and high collared and professional looking. Now... He gulped then looked over at Robyna who also looked mouth-watering in a dress whose color set off her pale skin and lovely hair.

 

Lynne, once she'd gvien Henry a sign that she was delighted at his arrangements, kept her eyes on Cayden.  When he glanced up he got the feeling she was going to smack him if he made the simplest joke.

Buffy, watching all of this from her safe spot, and her simple high-collared non-sexy dress, covered her mouth with her wine glass to make sure she didn't break out into a grin. Dinner was gonna be fun.

"Missed you at the game this weekend," Damon said to Fiona.  "We felt abandoned."

"Heartbroken," Dec added, his eyes dancing with mirth.  "Don't you want to play with us anymore?"
 

"Uhm, I was a bit busy. Maybe next weekend if you are playing," Fiona replied.

Dec nudged Cayden.  "See, I told you she liked us."
 

"I don't know why she should," Buffy muttered. "Even in suits you're brats."

 

Damon turned stricken eyes on her, radiating hurt.  "Elizabeth, why do say those things?  My mama would turn in her grave.  She worked hard to teach me manners.  I even know which fork to use."
 

Lynne frowned at Damon. "So, Fiona, you look much more rested than you did this morning. I'm so glad you're staying with us."

"Oh," Fiona replied, looking down at her plate. "It's very kind of you, but .. thank you for having me."

 

"We like company. Especially company that keeps Cayden speechless," Buffy commented.

Cayden flashed her a grin and went on with his soup.

"Cayden said you were attacked," Ash said, taking control of the conversation.
 

"Yes. Creatures not of this Shadow."

"It's somewhat disconcerting to be thought of as a shadow," Ash commented.
 

Fiona nodded. "I understand. It's a rather Amber-centric designation. For awhile there some of them honestly believed none of your worlds existed except in their imaginations. Or so I've been told. The Shadows were believed to be pale reflections of Amber herself."

 

"Tell me about the creatures."
 

"Something like sabertooth tigers, only orange and purple striped but probably far more intelligent.  I suspect they were capable of mental communication with each other, but then I was rather busy trying not to be killed so perhaps I imagined it," Fiona replied. 

"What led you to think that?" Dec asked.
 

"I'm familiar with animals who hunt as a pack, but these seemed to be coordinating their attack far better than most packs can. As I say, though, I was rather busy at the time, so perhaps I imagined it.  They also reacted when I reached for an escape, as if they recognized what I was doing."

"And you've been attacked before," Ash said.

 

"Yes, three times now in fairly quick succession. To send that many creatures through Shadow takes a lot of energy and talent.  I'm at a loss as to why I'm that important."

 

"Your looks?" Damon suggested.
 

Fiona blushed and looked down at her plate, her lips white as she refused to let herself retort.

"Your father is important, isn't he?" Lynee asked. "Perhaps they believe if they have you he will have to do what they say?"

 

"He's been kind to me, but I don't see him betraying Amber to ensure my safety," Fiona replied. "We don't know each other that well, either."

 

"My point," Damon said, "is that from what you're saying it sounds like it's something you take for granted.  That you don't value in the same way someone else would."
 

Fiona frowned. "I can't imagine what it is, then. I'm not that powerful, my relationship with the family is, at best, rocky.  I'm a fair sorceress but far from the best."

"There are other things," Robyna said.  "Things you own, things you could do, or have seen or know."
 

She regarded Damon for some time. "Yes, well, it must be something. I'm very young compared to the others, so it can't be anything obvious. I mean, the others, the princes and princesses know far more than I. And they've studied how the Pattern and the Logrus works. And many of them have come here to attend school, and live lives away from the castle and all the things related to it, even some of those from the Courts of Chaos have come here. Still, I agree. There must be something I know that I'm unaware is that important."

 

Ash studied her, then looked at Lynne.  "How can we help?" he asked finally, committing himself and by extension everyone else.
 

Fiona frowned. "I don't know. Your abilities are different from my own. From those of the rest of my family. But then mine are a function of Amber and can work on many Shadows whereas yours might only work in this one.  And I doubt you can walk through Shadow, one to another the way we can. As I understand it, only those who can survive the Logrus or the Pattern, or both, can do so.  And that means those of the blood of Amber."  She paused then added, "However, the princes have had relations with normal women for centuries, so there could well be other bastards like me who hold more of a grudge than I do. Although, again, why they would target me, is beyond my understanding."

"Actually, the most likely thing is that our abilities work no matter where we are."  Demon met Ash's eyes as he spoke.

"Well then we'll just have to figure out what it is they're after," Ash said.
 

--------------

 

Dinner ended and they all retreated to the sitting room, which had its windows open to the gardens. Lynne had gotten serious about them, and the scents from the roses and flowering vines enveloped the entire house.

 

 

Cayden watched her go, considering.  He stayed where he was, playing cards with Damon and Dec, and Robyna and Sal.  He kept an eye on her, though, a fact that cost him a number of hands in the low stakes game of stud. 
 

She turned and smiled at him. "That's kind. Thank you."

"What's going on in that head of yours, angel?"
 

"Mostly I'm running through all the people I know from Amber and the Courts and trying to figure out who hates me enough to invest this much energy in killing me. I haven't had a remarkable history with them. I haven't killed any of them, nor even been particularly nasty to them."

 

"This doesn't feel like a personal thing.  So unless hate is business where you come from..."
 

"You'd be surprised," she said, after she'd sipped her drink. "Fratricide is an art form there."

"No doubt.  So what are you plotting?"
 

"How to leave Ariadne's to Sal and move on," she admitted. "I can't ask these nice people to risk everything for me.  I just can't."

"Nothing's ever easy with you, is it honey?  You didn't ask them to do anything."
 

"I know, and somehow that makes it worse," she replied, looking up at him, tears standing in her eyes.

He took the glass from her and set it down along with his own before he enfolded her in his arms. "You aren't going anywhere.  Running off on your own won't solve anything and it wouldn't protect anyone.  If they're in danger now, they'll be in danger when you leave."

 

She sighed against his chest. "I know it. It's why I came back at all. I thought I would just disappear but that seemed.. I feel like I'm drowning in hatred and I don't even know what I've done to deserve it."

 

 "The only thing you're drowning in at the moment is my shirt, angel.  And the way you're clutching it, poor Henry's never going to get the wrinkles out."  He covered the hand crushing the cotton, stilling it with his while he rubbed her back.
 

"Now aren't you sorry you walked into that bar?"  she replied, attempting a feeble joke. 

He moved her back a little so he could see her face, tilting her chin up.  Then he brushed her mouth with his, feather light.  "Stop it, Fiona." 
 

Her eyes had flickered closed when he'd brushed her lips with his. Now they opened. "All right. I know when I'm beat."

"You're never beat.  You're just taking a few deep breaths between rounds."  He lifted her hand to his lips, brushing the back of it then turning it over to lay in his while he stroked the tip of his tongue over her palm.  Then he drew her further into the light, retaining possession of her hand.  He held it up, so that the ring she wore glinted. "Have you always had this ring?"
 

"It's why I went back to Amber. It was a gift. Well, all right. I sort of found it. But it hadn't been there before, so I think someone left it for me.  Why?"

 

"I had a little trouble following that."
 

 

She nodded. "Yeah, I can see why. There was this cave where I played when I was a child. I kept my treasures there. When my mother died they took me directly to the castle, and it was many years before I could get away unobserved to visit it again. The ring was there, in my treasure box. I didn't put it there, so..."

He touched just the tip of his finger to her ring, lightly, bracing himself first.  His hand had brushed it when he was kissing her palm and his head had almost exploded.  This time he was ready, focused and let the initial wave of power roll over him, flowing away like the tide.  He'd see it in her pattern but hadn't realized it was separate from her.  She and the ring were bound together but still distinct.  She could wield its power but she didn't control it.  And the ring, he realized, looking at the interweaving between her power and its, could influence and direct her.  It was almost as if there was an intelligence in it, a form of sentience, primitive perhaps but still sentience.

"Your ring is a thing of power, with a will of its own."
 

"I can't get it off."

"You mean ever?"
 

"For the entire last .. well, since it saved me this morning. It's the only reason I'm alive. Maybe it thinks it has to remain on my person because of that."  She paused then added, "I knew it was.. that it had a mind of its own. It's why I haven't worn it a lot, well, also because I thought others would want it, so it was better to keep it hidden."

 

He growled.  She was a little idiot, there was no question.  And that made no sense at all because she was a remarkably smart woman.  "How many times have you stated categorically you couldn't think of any reason someone would want to hurt you or why they'd be after you?"  He ground the question out.  Better the question than his teeth.  Dental work was expensive.
 

"Well... maybe," she admitted, biting her lip. "But I think it chooses who it belongs to, so I'm not sure someone could take it from me by force. Well, at least won't be able to make it do anything."

 

"What difference does that make?  They could cut your finger off and worry about the rest later...after they killed you first.  Jeez, angel, whatever am I going to do with you?"
 

She regarded him evenly. "But this started before I retrieved the ring. They couldn't have known I had it.  And, you could kiss me, instead of looking at me like I'm some empty-headed ... I don't know."

 

He drew her closer, molding her against him, soft, lush curves against sharp angles and sleek planes.  "Not empty headed, honey."  He nibbled at her lower lip, tracing it with his tongue.  "You've got all the equipment you need up there, it's just you sometimes forget to turn the power on."  Then, giving her no chance to speak, stifling the indigent kitten sound she made with his mouth, he kissed her the way he'd been wanting to all evening.  He claimed her mouth for his own, sweeping his tongue inside, mating with hers, while his hands shaped the curves of her bottom, locking her hips against him.  She tasted like smoke and mystery, innocence and sin, all honeyed sweetness and fiery promise.

She sent fire curling through his veins, blood pooling low, hot and thick and urgent.  She smelled like the night time, jasmine and lilac and darkness, her scent whispering to him of wicked, sinful delights.  She moaned into his mouth, fisting her hands in his hair and he pulled her tighter against him, exploring every secret cavern in her mouth, plundering it like like a pirate with lost treasure.

She shifted against him, her hips restless and he groaned, his erection growing harder, throbbing and pulsing until he wondered if he was going to explode.  She was dangerous in so many ways and all he'd ever done was kiss her.  At this rate he was surely going to die.
 

Her heart was pounding so loud she couldn't hear anything but her own hearbeat, her senses were on fire, and she couldn't breathe. The kiss broke just in time, and she felt weak-kneed when it did so, leaning on Cayden for a moment to get her bearings.

"I... Uhm... " was all she could come up with for words.

"Congratulations sport.  You kissed her witless."

Cayden groaned, the timbre and emotive quality at great odds with the last one he'd emitted.  "Chester!"

The squirrel sat up on his haunches, clapping his front paws together in a bizarre emulation of applause, his nails clicking.  "All the guys will be so proud of you."

"Where's Shroedinger?"  Cayden hissed the question, as understanding for Lynne came over him like a tsunami.
 

Fiona leaned against a nearby trellis and began laughing helplessly.