by Linsey Hall
“Um, I’m not so sure that will work.” I couldn’t meet her gaze.
“Why not? You just helped them defeat the Unseelie Fae incursion into their realm. Surely he owes you a favor.”
The Council of Demon Slayers knew almost everything about me. They’d saved me from Grimrealm—the horrible place I’d grown up. They’d given me a job. They knew I was a Dragon Blood, a secret that almost no one on earth knew.
But I hadn’t told them about my recent transition to Unseelie Fae. My new wings had vanished almost as soon as they’d appeared, and I hadn’t been able to make them come back. And I didn’t have any new magic as far as I could tell—just my old magic, suddenly gone haywire due to the changes inside me.
Unseelie Fae were evil, but I wasn’t.
That didn’t mean I wanted to go around spreading the news of what I’d become.
“We ended things on, ah…iffy terms.” As always, it was hard to read Agatha’s expression. But it wasn’t difficult to feel her surprise that I’d be such a wimp. “But of course I’ll go to him and ask for his help. Beg.”
Oh fates, this was going to suck.
It was the worst thing in the world. Except for Magic’s Bend being swallowed by a giant crater or totally enveloped in dark magic.
That was the actual worst thing in the world. And I was going to have to beg Tarron for his help fixing my mistake.
I’d rather roll in the vomit that had been next to me in the alley earlier tonight.
“You must go immediately,” Agatha said. “We’ll cover for you with the Order of the Magica for as long as we can.”
“Thank you.” The Order of the Magica, along with the Shifter Council, were the two primary magical governments on earth. There were a few smaller ones in other realms—like the Seelie Court of Tarron's and the vampires—but on earth, it was the Order and the Council. The Order oversaw magic users such as myself, and they’d happily chuck me in the Prison for Magical Miscreants if they found out I was a Dragon Blood. If they found out I did this?
Yeah, I’d be in jail.
I shivered.
“And we’ll do what we can to slow the destruction of Magic’s Bend.” Agatha looked at Aeri. “You can help. But we don’t have much time.”
I nodded, my mind spinning with what was to come. I’d planned to never see Tarron again, despite the fact that we were fated mates. He didn’t want to see me, after all.
But now I would.
I had to.
I was going to have to go into his realm and beg for his help.
2
It had only taken Agatha a few minutes to get me one of the golden medallions that acted as a key to the Seelie Realm. The place was notoriously difficult to get to, but the Council of Demon Slayers had a hookup.
I used those few minutes to freshen up, making sure that my makeup was in place. There was so much black around my eyes that it looked like a mask, and I approved.
Frankly, I looked fantastic.
Which was good, because I so did not want to beg Tarron for help. I might as well look like a million bucks while I did it.
I stayed in my black fight wear. There was no question that fixing the crater in the earth was going to be dirty work. Neither the place nor the time for my fabulous dresses.
Once I was ready and Agatha had given me the medallion, I said goodbye to Aeri and transported myself directly to Kilmartin Glen, in Scotland. Storm clouds rolled across the sun, making the green landscape appear ominous. This small bit of Scotland was home to hundreds, probably thousands, of ancient ruins. It was full of Fae magic, and as a result, it was the entry point to their realm, which was sort of on earth, sort of not.
It’d been less than two weeks since I’d come here to compete in the Trials of the Fae as an excuse to spy on Tarron. It felt like a century ago.
I approached the row of standing stones that gleamed with ancient magic. They stood silent and tall, sentries for thousands of years. At the end of the row, I stopped in front of the last stone. It towered above me, twice as tall and three times as wide. Pale green lichen covered the surface, and I placed my medallion into a circular indentation and pressed it inside. Magic sparked, sounding of birdsong and feeling like a warm ray of sun, and a door appeared to my left. It was made of pale, twisted tree limbs. More branches framed the door, covered in white flowers and beautifully decorated.
Everyone was beautiful and fanciful-looking in the Seelie Court. Everyone except their king. He looked beautiful and stark.
I shook away the memory of his face. I’d have to deal with him soon enough, and thinking about him just got my heart rate up.
I retrieved my medallion and turned toward the door, which swung open invitingly. Magical signatures wafted out, all of them earth based. The feel of grass beneath my feet was accompanied by the sound of leaves rustling and the taste of sweet apples.
I stepped through, letting the ether suck me in and spin me through space. It spat me out in a grove of enormous trees, each of them at least four hundred feet tall, with silvery bark and green leaves. It was daytime here, as it was in Scotland. The sun filtered through the trees that towered hundreds of feet above, shooting beams of light that sparkled and danced.
“You’re back.” The voice that floated toward me was feminine.
I turned, spotting the same guard who’d manned this post when I’d last come here. Her skin was milk pale and her hair a gleaming white. Lavender eyes and pointed ears completed the very Fae look.
I’d never gotten her name before. I stepped toward her. “Yes. I’m Mordaca. And you are?”
“I’m the one who knows just what to do with you.” She smiled, and it wasn’t pleasant.
A tiny stab of fear pierced my stomach, which annoyed me. I was only afraid in the worst, death-inviting circumstances.
This wasn’t it. Surely.
But something about this place—Tarron—put me on edge.
“Do with me?” I asked.
“Indeed.” She approached so swiftly that I didn’t have a chance to flinch back. Her fingertips landed on my cheek, and hot magic flowed through me.
My eyes rolled back in my head, and I barely felt the ground as I hit it.
The world appeared hazy as my limp body was eventually loaded into a carriage. I was semiconscious, drifting in and out of a haze. I occasionally got a fuzzy glimpse of the pale wooden houses on the outskirts of town. The black cloths still covered the doors, mourning the dead from the Unseelie incursion that had polluted the former king’s mind. It had made him kill many of the Fae in his realm. As a result, Tarron had been forced to kill his own brother. He’d tried to save him, but it hadn’t worked.
Despite the obvious signs of mourning, the air itself was sweet and pure. The dark magic stench that had pervaded this place last time I was here was fully gone.
Because of me.
Job well done.
I hoped the king remembered that I’d helped him then.
Consciousness faded faster as the carriage rumbled through the castle walls. The ornate structure sat in the center of the town, beautiful and enormous. It was everything that a fairytale castle should be, complete with a monster who lived in the top tower.
I struggled to keep my eyes open as the carriage rumbled around to the back of the building. We skirted around the wall of the castle, and I looked up, my neck limp and my head heavy on the carriage seat below me.
Tarron’s tower speared the sky overhead.
Was he in there?
Was that where they were taking me?
It was my last thought before blackness took me.
I woke with a splitting headache and a wide, wet tongue swiping across my cheek.
“Ew!” I scrambled upright, my brains feeling like they’d been mashed.
The thorn wolf sat next to me, huge and weirdly cute. The Fae beast had become my sidekick the last time I was here. He was huge, sitting upright on his butt and towering over me. Instead of fur, his coat was made of th
orns. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, making him look like a big goofy dog that could kill you with a few well-placed thorns ejected from his coat.
“Hey, Burn.” I reached out and gently patted his head. His full name was Burnthistle, but we’d agreed that was a bit of a mouthful.
Bacon.
It was the only word he knew, and I took it to mean “hello.”
“Where am I?”
Bacon.
“The dungeon, huh?” The small space was barren, with huge stone blocks forming the wall and an iron gate that looked impenetrable. “Why the hell would he put me here?”
Bacon.
“Oh, right. It’s because I’m an evil Unseelie Fae. The worst of the worst,” I joked darkly.
My mind flashed back to the last time I’d seen him—when I’d transitioned to Unseelie Fae. He’d just given me the kiss of a lifetime, and it had somehow jumpstarted the fae energy inside of me. My wings had sprouted from my back, scaring the hell out of me and shocking him. The memory was still fresh in my mind…
Tarron stared at me, anger on his impossibly handsome face. Betrayal flickered in his eyes as they moved from my glittering wings to my face. He looked at me like I was a monster.
“I didn’t know what I was,” I stammered. “I swear it.”
“You didn’t know until the wings grew?”
I hesitated, heart pounding. “I knew before then. But only by a few days. When we were in the Unseelie realm, I realized.”
He shook his head and stepped away from me, any warmth gone from his face. He didn’t care that I was supposed to be his Mograh. His fated one. But he cared only about the lie he thought I’d told. About his hatred for the Unseelie.
“You’ll never trust me.” Hurt tore me apart. He hated the very blood that ran in my veins. “I can see it on your face. Whatever there was between us doesn’t matter at all, does it? Not as long as I’m Unseelie Fae.”
He nodded sharply. “It’s impossible.”
“Fine, then.” I couldn’t take this. He hated my very species. I gave him one last look, and transported away.
I shook the memory away. Annoyance and hurt seethed within me, but I shoved them aside. I really didn’t have time for silly things like emotions right now.
I dug into my pocket and drew out a gold foil-wrapped candy. Quickly, I unwrapped it and shoved it into my mouth. It didn’t do much to calm me, but it helped.
Burnthistle looked at the gold wrapper with interest, so I dug out one for him, too, and tossed the unwrapped candy into the air. He snagged it and chomped down.
Sucking hard on the candy, I climbed to my feet and inspected the small room. My muscles ached from my fight with the demon earlier, but they loosened up as I moved.
“I’ll tell you one thing, Burn. There’s no way I’m waiting here for him to call on me.” If he ever did. I might be here for years.
Bastard.
The stone walls were solid—not a single secret door to be found—so I turned my attention to the iron grate. There was no one beyond it. No guards or anything down here in the depths of the castle. Just me, rotting away. Magic sparked from the gate, a repelling charm that pricked against my fingertips. When I pressed my hand flat to the lock, it felt like daggers stabbing my palm.
“Ouch.” I yanked my hand back.
Did I dare try my magic here? The last thing I needed was a repeat of the chasm that I’d created in Magic’s Bend.
But I felt more settled here. Burn pressed himself against my leg, and I felt even better. The magic inside me was calmer. I felt more like myself.
Was it because I was in a Fae realm? Or maybe it was just Burn’s help.
Whatever it was, I felt like I could probably control my gifts a bit better. Like I’d been able to before I’d transitioned to part Unseelie Fae.
I had to get out of here though. I was desperate to not be at Tarron’s mercy. I’d be begging for his help soon, but I wanted whatever dignity I could muster. Being dragged out of his dungeon for an audience would not start things off on the right foot.
I drew in a careful breath and called upon my magic. It flickered to life inside me, feeling almost normal. Burn helped, his presence calming my magic enough that I could control it. I sliced my fingertip with my thumbnail and called upon my Blood Sorcery. It surged to life inside me, almost too powerful.
Crap. Even here, I still wasn’t completely in control.
But I had it mostly, and I kept tight rein on it as I envisioned a new magic—breaking down magical barriers. I’d tear apart the magic that imbued this gate until it was no more. It was something I’d done many times before, and I was familiar with it.
As gently as I could, I pressed my hand to the lock and fed my magic into the gate. Bit by bit, I broke down the protective spell that made touching the gate hurt so much. Finally, it was gone.
The cut on my finger healed, courtesy of a spell that mended that small body part as soon as I wounded it.
Very necessary for a Blood Sorceress.
I reached into the ether for my lock-picking tools and inserted the little metal pins into the lock.
Immediately, they melted, forming a puddle on the ground next to my boot.
I jumped back. “Crap.”
Huh. Hadn’t seen that spell coming.
I stashed my remaining tools in the ether and sliced my finger again, calling upon a new magic. I imagined melting the metal lock, watching the molten silver drip to the ground. The power surged inside me, and I pressed my hand to the lock.
The entire gate melted, flooding the stone around me with hot, glowing silver.
I leapt backward, heart thundering loudly. “Shit.”
Burn blinked at me, turning his gaze between me and the metal.
“Yeah, that was more than I was anticipating,” I said.
I had more control of my power in this realm, but definitely not the total control I’d once had.
Damned Unseelie magic. My body didn’t know how to handle the newcomer, and this was the result.
“Hopefully Tarron won’t check down here for a while.” I shrugged. “But then, that’s what he gets for locking me in a dungeon.”
Burn gave me a look that suggested I was an idiot for being so unconcerned. And maybe I was, since I needed Tarron’s help.
“I just won’t tell him I melted the gate,” I said.
The dog just stared.
I sucked in a slow breath, vowing to be nice to Tarron. Sweet. To beg prettily for his help. Whatever it took, even though it felt like eating crow.
“Here goes nothing.” I gave Burn one last look and jumped over the puddle of molten metal, then hurried through the darkened corridors of the dungeon.
There was no one else down here, but the place didn’t feel totally abandoned. They definitely used this sometimes.
It didn’t take long to find the stairs that led up to the main part of the castle. Unfortunately, there was a guard standing at the top of them. I could just barely see his shoulder.
I didn’t want to fight him up there, and I definitely didn’t want to hurt him. That’d be very bad form, indeed. Super rude, considering I wanted Tarron’s help.
I drew a dagger from the ether and dropped it to the ground, hoping the clattering noise would draw his attention. I ducked back into the shadows behind the wall as his voice filtered down.
“Who’s there?”
I stayed silent, hoping.
Soon, I heard his footsteps. I called on another dagger, this one with a heavy hilt. When he appeared at the base of the stairs—tall and strong and dressed in the red and gold uniform—I leapt out and slammed my dagger’s hilt against his head.
He slumped silently to the ground, unconscious. I yanked his braided golden belt off his waist and bound his hands behind his back. Then I tied the laces of his boots together. I didn’t need to keep him incapacitated for long, so this should do the trick.
I stood and brushed off my hands. “Not bad.”
As
quickly and quietly as I could, I raced up the stairs, checking the halls for activity before I slipped out into the main corridor. As with everything in the palace—everything except the dungeons—the hall was huge and airy. Big, glassless windows allowed the breeze to float in, bringing with it the scent of flowers and the sound of birdsong.
It didn’t take long to find my way up the stairs toward Tarron’s tower. I’d gotten to know the castle a little bit during my last visit. I passed a few of the richly dressed court ladies, their colorful gowns shimmering in the breeze, but they paid me no attention. Apparently Tarron hadn’t told everyone I was meant to be tossed into the dungeon immediately upon arrival. Or maybe they just didn’t know who I was.
Tarron’s tower was the biggest one, located at the highest point of the castle. He kept his quarters separate from the rest, no doubt because he didn’t relish being king. I didn’t know much about him, but of that, I was certain. Even the court was just for appearances, I was sure, though it was an important part of Fae culture.
Did his people know what their reluctant ruler had sacrificed for them?
He’d had to kill his brother to save them
I couldn’t blame him for not relishing the new role that had been foisted upon him. No matter how ruthless and cold he was, he’d loved his brother.
I reached the main door and didn’t bother to knock.
Instead, I pushed it open and stepped into the huge, round tower that acted as his bedroom and main quarters. There was a bed, dresser, and chair in the space, but my gaze went right to him.
He stood in front of the largest window, shirtless and gorgeous.
I almost stutter-stepped backward.
I’d caught him getting dressed. The hard planes of his muscles gleamed in the sunlight, and his dark hair shined like ebony. He was so beautiful that it almost hurt to look at him. He possessed the perfect Fae beauty combined with a masculinity that made my heart race. The power that surrounded him was so strong it was almost scary.
Too bad I liked scary.
And I could feel the connection with him.
Fated.
