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some various hands plucking at his belt and fly, and starting to slip his jeans and skivvies from his hips.
     

CHAPTER 3
     
    Lindsay MacNeil stood before the faerie knoll near Scone Palace, staring up at the pointed top that was just a little too pointed to be entirely natural, then turned her focus to the little, bitty door halfway up. A depression like a navel, nearly grown over with bracken. She and Alex had gone through that door once, and had regretted it mightily. Another such regret would more than likely come her way soon, but there was nothing for it. Nemed had her son she was sure, and by God she was going to get the boy back.
     
    She hitched up the carrying strap of her oblong athletic bag higher on her shoulder, then started up the switchback trace that looked like a cow trail except that it led directly to the entrance. There she regarded the weather-worn little door, framed by rough wood and intricately carved as it seemed everything had been back in the days when she’d seen this last. Carved or painted. The wood now was cracked and gray with age, and it looked as if it might fall to pieces if she touched it. But she knew it wouldn’t, even if it were entirely dust held together with magic. Nemed wouldn’t let it fall apart. He probably wouldn’t even let her through if he didn’t want her to come.
     
    As she watched, the latch snicked and the door eased open a couple of inches on squeaky hinges. There it was. The gesture. Nemed surely had the baby, and now he was inviting her to come on in. A bluff? The thought made her grimace. Right. Like that elfin king could ever be afraid of any human. Last time she’d seen him he was ready to set her on fire and watch her burn. Herself and the child. She knew he would have done it without so much as a blink or a sweat. Even when Alex had a sword to his throat, the pointy-eared devil had shown no fear.
     
    Neither would she, anymore. Loathing surged in her, and she pushed the door the rest of the way open. She was going to kill the bastard, but first he was going to tell her where her son was.
     
    Inside the knoll was the chamber she remembered from before, but it was empty. Not like before, when there had been a fire and food. Today she wasn’t hungry. She looked around for Nemed. There was nobody there, so she moved onward and into the tunnels.
     
    As before, there was no discernible light source in the tunnels though she could see perfectly well. Odd to be able to see in the dark. The curves and bulges of the burrow walls seemed flattened. Undefined by light, but sensed by Lindsay’s mind. All was shades of dark gray. She peered into spaces, unable to see how deep they went. But she could see no shapes to suggest the presence of anything living. Nor even anything dead. Just earth. And tree roots. Tendrils and taproots growing into and out of the spaces within the knoll. The burrow led her on. Her booted footsteps were dull thuds against the packed earth beneath, and she ducked under and between bulges of root and earth overhead. Lindsay didn’t worry about where she was going. Finding her way back wouldn’t be an issue until she found her child. Once she found her child, then she would worry about returning with him.
     
    The urge to weep came over her again, and she paused in her search to squeeze her eyes shut and hold her breath against the tears. They hadn’t even named him, what with the bad connection from Alex’s ship. He was only Baby Boy MacNeil, and she’d known him for just three days. Held him and nursed him but a few times. In hospital she hadn’t been with him long enough to even notice the ears under his little blue baby cap. Hadn’t seen what everyone else in the delivery room had gone quiet over. In hospital she’d been so joyful to have her son, and to know how pleased Alex would be when he heard, she hadn’t noticed the ears.
     
    Then at home she’d seen them and was horrified. With his cap off, the shape of his ears let her