Jack-O-Lantern: King Jack’s Ball

  Alecia Monaco

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright ©2006 Alecia Monaco

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  ISBN (10) 1-59596-544-0

  ISBN (13) 978-1-59596-544-8

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  HTML, Adobe PDF,

  MobiPocket, Microsoft Reader

  Publisher:

  Changeling Press LLC

  PO Box 1046

  Martinsburg, WV 25402-1046

  www.ChangelingPress.com

  Editor: Crystal Esau

  Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

  This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Chapter 1

  “Quite a good turnout of revelers this year, wouldn’t you say, King Jack?”

  The pumpkin king turned his yellow-orange head toward his personal guard, his strange triangular eyes glowing golden fire. “Yes, yes, Goblin, the turnout is good enough.” The king’s raspy voice emerged from a perpetually wide smile, pointed teeth included.

  “You seem displeased.” Goblin huddled inside his robe, pulling the hood lower on his head.

  King Jack shrugged his shoulders, making his entire body rattle. Not a difficult trick, Goblin mused, when one’s body was made entirely of sticks.

  “The party is well enough.” The king heaved a sigh. “But these cursed Sidhe are as clannish as a convent of nuns.”

  Goblin’s gaze wandered the open field the Court of Dark Sidhe used for their annual All Hallows Eve ball. Fairy folk danced beneath the full moon, their wings a melee of glitter in the darkness. Certain groups seemed to congregate together naturally. The royalty kept to themselves, as expected. The blood fey, with their pale skin and gleaming black eyes, hovered on the fringes of the gathering.

  A few other fairy folk of high rank had been invited, even though they were not of the Court of Dark Sidhe. A banshee or two wandered through the crowd, their white gowns a contrast to the dark jewels and gothic elegance of the other revelers. Goblin spotted his old friend Aisling, the former banshee at arms, and lowered his head in a deep bow to her and her mortal spouse.

  The rest of the Dark Sidhe, the regular courtiers who were neither royal nor blood, were clustered together in various groups. Goblin turned to the king, who sat slumped in his throne within the royal pavilion. “They are a rather cliquish bunch,” he admitted.

  “And such a hellish bore.” The king grunted his disapproval. “I’d rather have spent the evening with Old Nick himself than to have wasted it here among this bunch of precious little snobs.”

  Goblin continued to watch the crowd, tracking the movements of the blood fey gathered beneath a cluster of ancient oaks near the perimeter of the field. Rather than dancing to the sounds of Skeeter’s Skeleton Sextet with the rest of the party goers, they stood stock still, as if frozen in place.

  Except for one.

  Goblin tracked the lone blood fey who had ventured away from the group. The tall, dark-haired lad had staked out a place near where the Dark Sidhe royalty were holding court.

  The blood fey, Goblin noted, seemed to have eyes only for the Sidhe princess.

  Princess Fianna sat slightly apart from the rest of the royal court, plucking absently at her amethyst velvet dress with a pair of tiny ivory-white hands. She looked every bit as bored as King Jack.

  Meanwhile, Goblin observed the male blood fey watch the princess with an almost palpable longing in his obsidian eyes. A longing, Goblin realized, that could never be fulfilled in a society as cliquish as the Court of Dark Sidhe.

  “I shall cease to preside over this annual affair,” King Jack said, waving his twig fingers in a dismissive gesture, “if this evening fails to improve.”

  “But, your lordship must realize, the Court of Dark Sidhe are powerful allies. They count on this annual fete as a token of your loyalty and esteem.” Goblin threw up his black mitt-covered hands. “If you cease to preside over their annual All Hallows Eve ball, they may see it as a sign of animosity, and no longer consider themselves allies of the Pumpkin Crown.”

  King Jack yawned, leaning his bulbous head against the back of his throne. “It’s almost worth the risk. I cannot even bring my own subjects here, for fear they’d be snubbed by this bunch.” He directed his flaming gaze in Goblin’s direction. “Even Skeeter’s Skeleton Sextet has grown weary of the games of this court.”

  Goblin glanced over at the band’s pavilion. Six fully animated skeletons were producing spine tingling melodies on various instruments, with vocals of a truly unearthly nature. Goblin shuddered and looked away, his gaze falling upon the blood fey still watching Princess Fianna with a devouring hunger.

  What a shame, to witness such an impossible love and be unable to help. Goblin sighed. But wait…

  Maybe it wasn’t so impossible.

  He cleared his throat and turned to face his king. “Your lordship, do you not possess a large measure of spellcraft, even outside of your own lands?”

  The king nodded his head. “I do indeed. There are limits when I travel to other realms, but nothing I cannot overcome with a bit of… creativity.” For the first time that evening, the king’s voice matched his eternal smile.

  Goblin had a smile of his own. “You’re no stranger to love magic, are you, sir?”

  The king maintained a significant pause. “I can assure you, Goblin, all forms of love magic are within my abilities.”

  Goblin leaned closer to his ruler. “You do realize, sir, that the Lianhan Shee and her sister are both here.” He indicated the two fairies, Deidre and Siobhan, seated with their mortal consorts a few yards away. “They will sense any love spell being worked, will they not?”

  King Jack shook his massive head. “I work the magic of the earth, of the Green Man and the wild creatures. The Love Fairy and her sister will only sense fairy magic at work. Mine will go undetected.”

  Goblin considered the king’s words for a moment. “Would a powerful spell of love and attraction not liven up this rather stuffy gathering?”

  A low chuckle sounded from somewhere deep inside the king’s scrawny form. “I should say it would. If nothing else, it would be the death knell for such cliquish behavior.”

  Goblin echoed the king’s laughter. “Your magical scepter awaits, sire.” He bowed deeply to the throne. “Your loyal subject stands ready to serve.”

  The king let out a rusty cackle. “Then let the games begin.”

  * * *

  Fianna stared into the silver punch bowl filled with fairy nectar, conjuring her reflection. Soon her image materialized within the liquid, staring back at her with wide purple eyes.

  Well, she thought, at least the boredom doesn’t show in my face. She pushed back a stray lock of her straight black hair and sighed, abandoning her makeshift mirror to return to her seat.

  Danimore was still standing like a sentinel by her place when she got back. Always solicitous, her betrothed had fluffed the velvet pillows where she’d been reclining.

  Too bad he was such an insufferable drip.

  “I missed you while you were gone.” Danimore dropped onto the ground beside her, instantly reaching for her hand. His overly large green eyes widened, making him look like an anxious frog.

  This was the man her mother had chosen for her!

  Fianna had stopped wondering about her mother’s motives. Sidhe politics ruled everything in their lives. Danimore came from a powerful family among the Dark Sidhe, even if he lacked the beauty and magnetism normally associated with the species. Their alliance was a matter of expedience for both families, and nothing more.

  As for Danimore, Fianna had no doubt that he saw her as his passport to the throne room. Through their eventual heirs, he’d be tied to the royal family in an inextricable way.

  Feeling an expression of disgust creeping across her face, she turned away from her erstwhile fiancé’s eager gaze. How could she ever give her love to him, when her heart had been so completely claimed by another?

  She placed her hand on the pocket of her purple velvet dress, feeling the folded square of paper concealed within it. She let her palm rest against it like a talisman.

  Her own secret admirer, loving her from afar, who sent her notes which elevated her soul and fired her desire. She cast a surreptitious glance around the field of revelers. Was he among them? Which set of Dark Sidhe wings belonged to him, fluttering in the darkness the way her heart fluttered every time one of his notes arrived?

  “From the first time I saw you, standing on the palace balcony last Beltaine…” Imagine, she thought, he’d been in love with her from a distance all that time. But why didn’t he come forward and show himself? Why didn’t he challenge Danimore for her hand?

  She leaned back on the decadent pile of pillows behind her, sighing. If only she could find him, she’d be happy. But wh at if she never succeeded? She’d be stuck with Danimore for all eternity.

  Would she ever solve the mystery? Would her secret admirer reveal himself before it was too late?

  * * *

  Cade watched Fianna, longing for her with all his heart and soul.

  Her beauty was like a gazing ball. In it, he saw his future. All the happiness he could ever hope for was held captive in her purple eyes.

  Her oaf of a fiancé hovered over her with an air of triumph. Cade knew she wasn’t happy with her betrothal. He wished for nothing more than to storm the royal pavilion and claim her as his own before whisking her away to be his bride for eternity.

  Why had the cruel hand of fate made him a blood fey and her a princess? No set of circumstances could be more impossible.

  He hovered in the shadows where he could continue his vigil, waiting for some sign she was aware of him. Had she received any of his letters?

  Had they failed to move her heart? Had she even bothered to read them?

  He knew of no other way to express his boundless love for her. The anonymous letters had become the sole outlet for his scorching passion.

  If only she were not a princess…

  Cade sighed, thankful for the shadows concealing him. Wishing that Fianna were not a princess was as futile as wishing for the moon.

  In fact, he stood a better chance with that particular celestial orb than he ever would with the fairy who’d stolen his heart.

  Chapter 2

  Magic hung thick in the air, heavy and portentous as a looming shadow. King Jack inhaled it, felt it swirling around him in a hum of whirling energy, and smiled.

  “You’ve done well, my king.” Goblin’s face was hidden beneath his black hood except for his glowing red eyes, which peered out at Jack.

  “Perhaps this night will not be so dull, after all.” Jack settled back into his throne, his triangle eyes sweeping the crowd. Already, furtive glances were flying back and forth between the men and women, regardless of their status within the hierarchy of fairyland.

  “I shall watch the young blood fey with special interest,” Goblin commented, leaning close to the king’s throne.

  Jack followed Goblin’s gaze to where the blood fey stood near the Sidhe royal pavilion. Princess Fianna excused herself and wandered into a nearby grove of trees, clearly uninterested in the amorous attempts of her fiancé.

  If Jack’s smile could’ve grown any wider, it would have. “I shall await the results of this spell with interest.” As Goblin’s high-pitched chuckle sounded behind him, he prepared to watch the show.

  * * *

  She couldn’t bear the feeling of his hands on her.

  Fianna shuddered, glad for the seclusion provided by the grove of mighty oaks. Danimore knew that to compromise her was to be forced on pain of death to marry her immediately. His lust for the throne was so great that he would’ve done anything to initiate acts of the flesh with her.

  No thank you, Fianna thought to herself. She had no intention of suffering through his attempts at seduction until the much dreaded wedding night.

  She’d been forced to wait, due to the laws that bound female royalty. But what if she found her man of mystery, her secret admirer? He, she felt sure, would be the one man she’d give herself to freely. The thought of being touched by the hands that had penned those sensuous words of love made her body ache with a need she’d never before experienced.

  She leaned against the trunk of one of the trees, suddenly weak with overwhelming need. An insistent throbbing pounded at the juncture of her thighs, demanding relief. A shaky rush of breath broke forth from her lips, and driven by an instinct stronger than reason, she allowed her hand to slip under the hem of her short dress to slide slowly up her bare thigh.

  What had come over her? Every sense was incredibly heightened, as if her body had suddenly awakened to its full range of sexual potential.

  Her fingers trailed over the silky lilac panties, over her outer folds, knowing that the hub of this burning need was close, so painfully close…

  “I see I’m not the only one trying to escape this so-called party.”

  At the sound of a deep male voice, Fianna dropped her hand instantly and whirled around. “Who dares to disturb a princess in repose?”

  A figure emerged from the shadows, stepping into a pool of moonlight. Bathed in that silver gleam, his blood fey characteristics were obvious, from his black eyes to the fangs that glinted ever so subtly in his half smile.

  But those details were mere distractions. He was simply one of the most gorgeous creatures Fianna had ever laid her eyes upon. From his tall, sculpted form to his alabaster skin and straight black hair, he was desire personified.

  She’d sought to ease her arousal with her own hand.

  Suddenly, she had a better idea.

  * * *

  Cade could hardly believe his good fortune.

  He’d stumbled across Fianna alone, finally gaining an audience with her that his status as blood fey would not normally present.

  And from the looks of it, the amorous mood of the crowd had not escaped his beloved princess.

  Her ivory cheeks were flushed with desire, and he could almost taste her arousal on the air.

  “Why are you lurking out here in the gloom like a ghoul?” He moved in closer to her, studying her face, alert for her reaction.

  “As you said, I grew tired of this so-called party.” She didn’t back away.

  “It appears to be nothing more than a political gathering and a who’s who of fairy kind.” He could smell the blood pulsing beneath her almost translucent skin like a hypnotic aphrodisiac. His body stirred in response.

  He wanted her like a dying man longing for air.

  “I quite agree.” She peered up at him through lowered eyelashes. “What brought you here tonight?”

  Could he risk the truth? Somehow, he knew it was a risk he had to take. “You,” he answered simply.

  Her eyelids shot up and she stared at him. “Me? How could I bring you here tonight?”

  His heart leapt into his throat. He parted his suddenly dry lips to speak. “Your eyes, like two matching amethysts.” He reached out to touch the skin that he’d dreamed of caressing, tracing a finger over the curve of her cheek. “This skin, softer than a white rose from the gardens of paradise.” His thumb stroked her bottom lip. “These lips, so full… they promise a thousand sins with a single pout.”

  She shuddered, rolling her head back. He let his hand drift lower. “This body, which has had me in a white heat since the first time I saw you.” He ran his fingertips down the smooth column of her neck, over her collarbones to the small crests of her breasts peeking out of the square cut neckline of her gown.

  “I want nothing more than to set these breasts free.” He fell to his knees before her, touching her small breasts with a mixture of gentleness and longing that approached reverence. “To watch them respond to my touch…” He skimmed the tight bud of her nipple through the velvet fabric of her bodice. “To feel your nipples harden beneath my tongue…”

  She moaned, leaning against the tree as if she’d fall without its support.

  “To strip you bare of this dress…” With hands that trembled, he unfastened the tiny hooks running down the back of her dress. Emboldened by her lack of protest, he continued, “… and reveal your skin inch by inch.” He slid her dress down a fraction, then another, until her breasts were completely uncovered.

  Desire shook him, making him almost wary of touching her, fearful of losing control. Her breasts were perfect, ivory smooth globes with nipples as pink and delicious as ripe berries.

  “Why did you stop?” Her voice, breathy and uncertain, brought his gaze up to her face. “Do you not want me, now that you’ve seen more of me?”

  A laugh burst forth from his lips, catching him by surprise. “I want you so much that I’m not sure I can control myself.” He buried his face between her breasts, absorbing the feel of her skin and the scent that was uniquely her own.

  “Don’t be afraid of me.” She combed her fingers through his hair. “I’m not a porcelain doll.” Her laughter sounded bitter to him. “You won’t break me.” She tugged at his hair until he looked up at her. “I want you to lose control with me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper that made his cock painfully hard. “Forget I’m a princess. Tonight, I want to be a woman.”

 

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