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have told me about him, Culhane.”
    “There wasn’t much time before Maggie. And I confess, I do not know your grandsire. I am a warrior. He is not.”
    She almost argued with that reasoning, but then figured it must be like saying to someone here, Oh, you live in Los Angeles. You must know my cousin, Wanda. Big city. And Otherworld was even bigger. Hell, it was a world all by itself, with cities, countries, continents. . . . Of course Culhane wouldn’t know everyone there.
    But imagine. The Donovan girls weren’t as alone in the world as they’d thought they were. They still had a relative. A Faery grandfather. Who hadn’t bothered to call and say hi or anything in like forever. Okay, that colored things a little, Maggie admitted silently and took her paintbrush back from Culhane.
    Deliberately, she set thoughts of her mysterious grandfather aside for the moment. She’d have time later to think about him and decide what she was going to do about him. She’d have to meet him. Nora would want to meet him, too. But that meant being in Otherworld and right now, she had to be here.
    “You are pulling away from me again,” Culhane whispered.
    When had he dipped his head so close to hers? And why did her insides immediately start jumping up and down in excitement the minute he did?
    “I’m not,” she said, even as she did just that, stepping to one side, keeping a small, but necessary distance between them. She felt at a loss. He knew so much more than she did. About her life. Her family. Her new duties and her place in Otherworld. She felt as if she were standing over a chasm in the earth. One foot in Faeryland, one foot in the real world, and the tiniest wrong step would send her tumbling down into the gap between both worlds.
    Forever falling, just like Mab.
    She shivered and this time it had nothing to do with Culhane’s nearness. There was just too much going on in her world for Maggie to be thinking about Culhane and, God help her, Faery sex. Especially now that she knew Faery sperm were hearty enough to get through the birth control pills she knew Nora was on.
    Though she wanted him more than she had ever thought it possible to want anyone, how could Maggie possibly stop long enough to enjoy sex when there were so many other things cluttering up her life and her thoughts? No, it looked like she was going to die a vestal virgin.
    All right.
    Not exactly a virgin.
    But close. She’d been celibate—not by choice—for several weeks now. And the shower massage she’d installed a few nights ago? Not really the same.
    Culhane blew out a breath. “You’re angry.”
    “I’m . . . something. But, maybe angry’s mixed up in there somewhere.”
    “Ah.” He nodded sagely, then shook his head as if he were disappointed. “I see. Somehow you blame me for Nora’s announcement?”
    Actually, she was blaming him for pretty much everything lately. But then, why not? Wasn’t he the one who had started all of this you’re-the-destined-Queen thing? Whom else could she blame?
    “You should have warned me,” she said flatly.
    “I didn’t know about your sister’s pregnancy.”
    She glanced at him and couldn’t read his expression at all. That’s what happened when you lived for thousands of years, she guessed. You had plenty of time to develop an excellent poker face. Culhane was on top of everything, though. Nothing surprised him. And he was damn good at keeping secrets. “Wish I could believe that.”
    “You may.”
    Maggie almost laughed. Now he wore that fierce, of-course-you-must-believe-me-I’m-a-Fae-Warrior-who- was-not-informed-of-all-I-should-have-been look on his face. Okay, maybe he hadn’t known after all. Even Culhane couldn’t possibly pretend to be that insulted.
    “I would not have kept it from you had I known, but Quinn,” he added with a snarl, “did not tell me .”
    She studied him for a long moment or two, then finally nodded, at least partially convinced. “Somehow that makes me