by Melissa Marr
Being the heir to the Hidden Throne seemed to come with a steep learning curve, and Lily wasn’t certain she was ready for it. There weren’t any other choices, unfortunately. This was her lot in life. She would master it, or she would falter until she couldn’t continue trying. That was simply how the world worked, or more accurately, how Lily had been raised. Weakness wasn’t an option.
“You are not to blame,” Creed said. He was sprawled out in her bed, watching her.
She wasn’t sure how long he’d been studying her, but it was a habit that she was trying to break him of. “Don’t stare.”
The sword was in its scabbard now, resting atop Lily’s dresser. It was a beautiful weapon, and she was touched to have it as her own. Somehow that gift, more than negotiating with the queen or donning a crown, made the enormity of the role she was undertaking seem frightening. Swords were for those who expected to need to defend themselves. Lily had always known that she needed to be alert. It came as a consequence of her father’s job and of her own fae blood.
This was more.
She’d already crossed blades with the former Seelie heir, her uncle, and she’d seen both Creed and Torquil injured for it. She’d watched Violet come near to murdering one of the princes. She herself had been more than ready to spill blood. Now she had to deal with the fact that her bodyguard—the human one—was arrested. She needed to know why the police were at her door, and whether it was fae or human influenced.
“I’m going to the police station,” she pronounced.
Creed stared at her for a moment. Then he simply shrugged and stood up. He grabbed his shirt from where he had dropped it the night before and pulled it on. “Back exit or front door?”
“You don’t need to come,” she started.
His frown made abundantly clear that he disagreed. “Just us or . . . Vi? Zeph?”
“Erik,” she added.
The frown morphed into a scowl. “He’s only human.”
She opened her mouth to explain to Creed that he was being unnecessarily difficult, but before she could speak, he continued, “But he’s useful with this stuff, I guess.”
“He is.” Lily rolled out of bed and tried not to feel self-conscious that Creed was watching her. She wasn’t painfully modest, and she knew he liked the way she looked, but she had been so sheltered that her only experiences of any sort were with Erik, and those hadn’t gone too terribly far. Creed, on the other hand, had been in the public eye, on stages, in tabloids, and at innumerable parties. He’d taken advantage of the opportunities that presented. Often.
“Stop staring,” she repeated.
“Can’t.” Creed waited until she met his gaze. “There are no other girls in the world . . . either world, since I met you. I have to stare to make sure you’re really here.”
Lily laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”
He grabbed her and dipped her back as if they were dancing. Her laughter shifted into a smile, and he leaned closer and kissed her. Like every other touch they’d shared, Creed’s lips on hers felt like every right thing all compressed into one perfect moment. He was her one. They had that surprising click that made her sure that there was truth to the idea of soul magic. He was her soul mate. She knew it. Some people simply fit together in a way that no logic could explain and no words could capture. She wasn’t going to call it fate, but she felt like her soul and his were intrinsically connected. Creed’s very touch made her believe that two people could come together in a way that defied every obstacle or objection—and she’d certainly raised more than a few of them herself in an attempt to stay quit of him.
As he kissed her and brought her back to standing, she couldn’t imagine her attempts ever succeeding. Creed felt like forever. He might not trust that yet, and her fae grandparents might not agree with it, but there were loves worth fighting for. She was more convinced every day that he was hers, and she’d raze the world if that’s what it took to keep him.
“I am ridiculous,” he admitted. “And yet somehow, you’re mine.”
She leaned against him. Spending the entire night tangled up in his arms, close enough that their hearts aligned and their breaths mingled, was not enough. Sometimes she feared that the more she had of him, the more she wanted.
One of the difficulties of growing up in the human world was that the fae approach to relationships vied with the human stance. The fae let themselves go; they let emotion and instinct guide them in matters of the heart and soul. Creed’s steadfast devotion to her when she was trying to pretend that she was immune to him, Alkamy’s unwavering devotion to Zephyr, Roan and Will’s true compatibility, these were all very fae.
Lily was raised in a human home, with her human father, surrounded by human criminals. It made her see emotions as a liability more often than any faery would. It made her want to be practical.
Of course, her father had never suggested she do so. He’d certainly loved her mother with a passion that was illogical. Maybe, Lily had often wondered, it only took one person to be fae for that sort of magical connection to happen. Even in the human fairy tales—beautiful stories of adventurous princes and hidden princesses or of cursed princes and brave maidens—there was a tendency to pause in awe at the star-crossed lovers or the instant moment when a locked glance or the brush of a hand was enough to catapult a couple into complete surrender to love.
Lily knew that those stories were inspired by the fae way of loving or the fae-blood finding his or her true match. Creed was hers. She was his. There was no way to escape that kind of fate, and as she looked at him, she couldn’t think of why she had ever tried.
Shaking her head, Lily stepped back and said, “I’m going to call Erik. He can meet us there.”
Creed nodded and went to find his boots.
He needed reassurances, but she did too. It was odd to her that he could be insecure. She’d seen him in so many magazines with so many girls that she couldn’t fathom how he had any insecurity at all, but that was the same thing he said about her. Maybe that was one of the secrets to being in love: both people were stunned that the other loved them.
She looked toward Creed as she got dressed. He knew her. He’d heard her doubts even when she didn’t speak them. The Queen of Blood and Rage was another matter altogether. Lily couldn’t bring herself to trust her.
“Stop worrying,” Creed said without looking at her.
“I don’t know that I’m ready,” she said.
“For?”
“Whatever is coming. And something certainly is. Daidí has taught me so much, but—”
“One crisis at a time,” Creed interrupted. “We don’t know what’s going on with the attacks or the coronation, but you want to go check on your friend. We do that first.”
Lily nodded, and Creed extended his hand toward her.
As she and Creed walked from the dorm to the main building, she called Erik and asked him to meet her. Aside from a brief and not at all subtle inquiry on Violet, he had nothing much to say when she called. He treated her like an equal, and he was doing that even more now that he accepted they would never be more than friends.
When she disconnected from the call, Creed glanced sideways at her. “Do you want to bring Vi?”
“A rock star, an actress, and the children of two international criminals walk into a police station. . . .” She shook her head. “Honestly, maybe you ought to stay here too.”
Creed draped an arm over her shoulders. “Notoriety never hurts. I’m done ending up in the rags for being drunk or out with a new girl, so busting someone out of jail would be a welcome—”
“We aren’t busting Hector out,” she interrupted as they crossed the foyer to the exit.
“Right.”
Dropping his sunglasses down as they stepped outside and seemingly becoming more languid as he walked, Creed looked every bit the “troubled boy” he’d been portrayed as for years. At the same time, her steps became more clipped, and her spine straightened. She was also acutely aware of h
er image, but in a very different way. That was the way of most people though: everyone was projecting something with the way they dressed, walked, and moved. Some people were simply more aware of it. Lily was very aware of it. She’d been trained to be so.
Outside, Erik zipped up in whatever expensive car he was currently renting—or had purchased on impulse. Lily didn’t know one car from the other. This one was sleek, cherry-red, and low-slung. There was no doubt in her mind that it would be too fast and turn too quickly. She might not know the make or model, but she knew enough to know that those traits were essential to Erik . . . and that she loved that aspect of Erik’s car addiction.
Creed let out a murmur of appreciation.
Erik got out of the car to greet them. He gave her a polite bow and kissed her cheeks. Creed he greeted with a nod and a polite, “Do you drive?”
“Sometimes, but nothing like that.” Creed stared at the car the way most boys looked at beautiful girls. “Seemed like a waste of cash the way I dr— used to drink.”
As Creed’s words faded, he looked at her and added, “If I’m not drinking, I can buy a car.”
Erik laughed, and they headed toward the tiny town center of Belfoure to see what the situation was with Hector’s arrest.
twenty-one
CREED
Creed wasn’t intimidated by much. For most of the years he remembered, including the fuzzier ones of late, his expectation of living to see twenty years old was low. It had been that way since he realized that he was, in essence, a tool for the Queen of Blood and Rage. She was a war queen, one who’d turned her anger away from the Seelie Court—the “more civilized” faery court—only to aim it at the humans a few years later. He understood her stated reasons: they’d not only polluted the land and sea, but caused her to lose her child to the sea almost a century ago. Under it all, though, the queen wasn’t a figure of softness, but of terror. That meant that Creed knew he was unlikely to survive being her weapon.
He’d come to terms with that reality. He’d expected death, and so he’d lived accordingly. He’d ingested poisons upon poisons, alcohol and cigarettes both. On a few occasions, he’d taken street drugs. Creed had done all of it with the awareness that as a fae-blood, any toxin was multitudes worse for him. Even the things humans could ingest in small doses, caffeine or alcohol, were potentially deadly to him. That was the point: to die on his own terms as much as he could. He did as he was ordered, carried out her murderous intent as they all had done, but he was careening toward death as quickly as he could. It was the only rebellion he’d been able to conceive.
Sitting in Erik’s car with Lily perched in his lap made him think about other possibilities. Survival was unlikely for different reasons now. He knew as well as the rest of them that his role in Lily’s life made him a target. He’d already been injured once because of it.
She was also, quite simply, his savior . . . all of the Black Diamonds might live because she managed to wrest a declaration of peace from the queen of wars. He tightened his hold on her a little more and asked, “So what kind of car is this?”
“Lamborghini Aventador Roadster,” Erik offered casually. “It’s a V-12, seven speed, limited edition.”
Creed said nothing.
“Over two hundred miles per hour maximum speed. Zero to sixty in under three seconds,” Erik continued in the sort of awed voice Creed had typically heard when his friends were discussing pretty girls or good weapons.
“Erik?” Lily said gently but with an obvious laugh in her voice. “You’re speaking another language.”
He glanced at Creed inquiringly.
Creed shrugged. He had no idea what all of that was about beyond the obvious—it was fast.
Erik sighed.
“Vi likes to drive,” Creed offered, feeling briefly guilty for failing at some secret human code he didn’t understand. He’d had no friends that were purely human, ever.
On his lap, Lily beamed at his offer of friendliness to Erik. She hadn’t been subtle about wanting them to be on good terms, but there was the discomfort that Erik had kissed Lily. He was a part of her human world that Creed didn’t understand.
“What does she drive?” Erik asked.
“Oh. Something like this, sleek and fast. She’s a bit more reckless, though, like she’s trying to race a wildfire.” Creed had spent more than a few nights thinking he was going to vomit from Violet’s terrifying driving. She took curves like she was hoping to roll the vehicle, and she abused the brakes, coming up on things too fast and stopping just shy of ledges. She might not admit a death wish, but he’d recognized it in her. It was only Alkamy, Will, and Roan who didn’t push that edge over the years.
When he glanced at Erik, Creed saw that he was smiling widely. Again, he wondered if Lily’s friend might actually have the reserves to court Violet. If he were determined enough, he might stand a chance. At the least, he’d be a distraction to her. At the best, he might actually make her happy.
Once Erik slid the car into the lot of the police station, he ruined any goodwill he’d earned in Creed’s mind. “Nick is meeting us here.”
Lily pressed her lips together and glared. “My father? Daidí is here?”
“He said not to tell you,” Erik added with a not-at-all-covert glance at Creed.
Before anything more could be said, the man who was striding toward the car reached out and opened the door. With the sort of grace that made him seem more feral than human, Nicolas Abernathy extended a hand to his daughter and escorted her from the car—and Creed’s lap.
“Daidí,” she said softly, leaning up to kiss his cheek as if this entire moment was not a surprise. There were cameras aimed at them already, and Creed thought it interesting that Mr. Abernathy was allowing it. There was obviously a reason. He’d shielded her from publicity most of her life, so tolerating cameras now was exceptionally out of character.
Lily’s father studied her in the way of wild things examining their young after a separation. Creed wouldn’t have been shocked if he’d leaned in and sniffed her too. There would be no doubt after anyone saw the photographs that were being taken right now that Nicolas Abernathy adored his daughter.
Creed schooled his expressions to something less adversarial than he suddenly felt and stepped out of the car. He wasn’t insecure enough to pull Lily closer, but he felt threatened.
“Mr. Morrison.” Nicolas Abernathy did not smile or offer a hand. He merely nodded. “I hear you are healed.”
“I am.”
“Good.” He greeted Erik with a hard shake hug combination, clearly more at ease with him than with Creed. The cameras recorded all of it.
Being dismissed stung even though it was subtle. It wouldn’t change anything though. Creed’s place was at Lily’s side. He’d had no doubt about that since he’d met her, and if the regents in the Hidden Lands weren’t enough to dissuade him, nothing else would be. Sure, he knew that Lily harbored doubts, and he saw the urge to pull away that flittered in her gaze sometimes. Some creatures weren’t meant to be tamed, and LilyDark Abernathy was one of them. She was more fae than human, and the longer she wore the crown of her heritage, the more obvious that became.
And he’d fight to be at her side until he was out of air and pulse. After a life of running toward what he’d thought to be certain death, having a reason to live was remarkable. Love was a gift he never thought he’d have, and he’d do anything to keep it for however long he could.
He stood at Lily’s side, grateful when she slid her hand into his. A weight fell from him at that gesture. She wasn’t rejecting him, despite her father’s chill.
“Daidí,” Lily murmured softly, seemingly drawing her father’s attention to her alone.
“Does he truly want to be seen with all of us?” the elder Abernathy asked.
Creed startled slightly.
“He is with me,” Lily said with a slight shrug.
“Erik and I are . . . known,” Nicolas continued. “And not for the things Mr.
Morrison is.”
“You’re both important to Lily,” Creed answered before she could. He met her father’s gaze. “And I am perfectly happy to be photographed at her side. That means your side too. It’s Erik who is at risk when Lily’s grandp—”
“I’ll be by her side, as well as by yours and Violet’s.” Erik stiffened, but his voice lowered even further as he added, “The police can test my blood. I am not fae at all. I already had a test, years ago, to confirm it.”
Lily looked at each of them, and again, Creed could see echoes of the Queen of Blood and Rage in her. “You’re all already identified as part of my life. When the announcement comes, you’ll all be targets. You’re all also too stubborn to leave, which I do appreciate, so then . . . that’s all resolved, yes?” She smiled at Erik, leaned closer to Creed, and grabbed her father’s elbow. “Now, let’s walk across the lot and into the station before we attract even more of a crowd.”
Creed wondered idly if she had always been this regal or if that, too, was changing.
“So when will you be coming to the house again, Creed?” Nicolas asked in a voice sure to carry.
Lily squeezed Creed’s hand slightly.
“We’ll have to look at the schedule. Erik needs to take me car shopping too.” Creed spoke casually, as if they were truly better acquainted than they all were.
Their purposefully light conversation continued as they passed into the police station—and were promptly stopped.
“Sir,” a suit-clad man greeted. He bowed his head to Lily, and although he didn’t greet Creed or Erik, there was no doubt that he’d noted them in his mental register.
“I trust that things are sorted.”
The man’s lips pressed together briefly, and he pulled Lily’s father a little farther away. They spoke in quiet voices, and Creed could not have heard them if not for his air affinity. He could pull the sound toward him on currents no one else would notice, but he chose not to. Eavesdropping on the business conversations of Lily’s father wasn’t something to do lightly.
