Sea Fae Trilogy

by C. N. Crawford

  “Why am I here?”

  “I’m sure you’re up to speed by now. That, despite the shocking physical beauty you see before you, I’m one of the worst people you could have the misfortune to meet.”

  “You really didn’t need to spell it—”

  He put a finger to his lips. “Shhh. I wasn’t finished. You came to me to kill me with a dagger.” His voice sounded so calm and soothing. “Did you really think you could kill me with a little dagger?”

  “I had no idea I’d find you here. I had to improvise.”

  That drumbeat pounded in my belly—a dark, primal invitation. It seemed to follow him wherever he went.

  He cocked his head. “Do you have any idea how many women would pay to have me chain them up? This doesn’t really seem a fitting punishment. You know, I could draw out your agony until you begged for death instead.”

  Something like panic started to climb up my throat. It was making it hard to think clearly. That, and the heat in here, and that infernal drumbeat. Phantom flames seemed to rise up around him, orange and gold flickering over his body.

  The spikes were just millimeters from my back. A droplet of sweat rolled down my temple.

  The Nameless One narrowed his eyes. “You smelled of the Ankou when you first came to me. You’re working with him.”

  Maybe it wasn’t the blood, then, that had him so irate. Maybe he really hated how Lyr smelled.

  “Get to the point.” The chains in my wrist were cutting into my skin.

  This seemed to amuse him more. “I’ll give you the athame your little heart desires. But I need two things from you.”

  I swallowed hard. “I don’t know how to get to Nova Ys.”

  He sighed. “I don’t give a fuck about Nova Ys. Why would I need an island when I have all this?” He gestured at the stony walls. Then he turned, crossing to the rock slab. He picked up the piece of fruit.

  “All I need you to do is to take a bite of my fruit, Aenor, filthy little kingdom drowner that you are.”

  “I didn’t drown my kingdom,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “But that’s how the story goes, and that’s the part that matters.”

  “You’re a monster, you know that?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Yes, I believe I’ve heard that once or twice before, over the millennia. People hate me; I hate them. Everyone agrees I’m a dick. However, I promise you, I enjoy my life anyway. Now, how about you enjoy something for once in your sad little life?”

  I glared at the fruit. Eating it was definitely a bad idea.

  “What’s the other thing you want?” I asked.

  “I want to know where your mother is.”

  I stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “What?” I rasped, my throat parched. “You don’t seem insane…. Scratch that, you do seem insane, because you have a woman chained up in a rocky basement. So, let me refresh your memory. You killed her a hundred years ago. My mother is dead.”

  He tilted his head, a line forming between his eyebrows. “I did kill her, yes. But, of course, she didn’t stay dead. You do know that, don’t you?”

  A strange numbness overtook me until I could no longer feel the burning in my arms or the chafing at my wrists. Everything seemed to go quiet.

  His sensual laugh skimmed over my skin, his eyes sparkling. “Your lover didn’t tell you? I smelled Lyr’s scent on you. He forgot to tell you this key piece of information? Now that is hilarious.” His laughter seemed genuine. “It’s a real betrayal, isn’t it?”

  That mocking tone made me want to break things. Him, specifically.

  The Nameless One cast a slow gaze over my body. “Apparently, he thinks you’re good enough to fuck but not good enough to trust with the truth.”

  Lyr. Sea god. A man who could pass between worlds. He’d committed a crime against the gods—an unnatural act. He’d killed tons of people and didn’t seem to feel bad about that. And what was worse than killing people?

  “Lyr brought my mother back from the dead,” I murmured.

  Darkness poured from my enemy’s body, melding with the shadows around him. “And I need to find her.”

  The betrayal crashed over me like a storm wave. I knew Lyr had been keeping something from me. And this was what it was?

  What else had he kept from me? A promise to Melisande, perhaps. He was using me to get the athame, and then he’d be gone.

  A hot tear streaked down my cheek. “I don’t know where she is.”

  “Hmm. Mayyyybe not.” He held my gaze. “The athame will lead us to her.”

  I didn’t want him anywhere near my mother. He’d already killed her once.

  My thoughts whirled. Why hadn’t Mama come to find me if she was alive? I didn’t get it. “For how long?”

  He shrugged. “Months.”

  “You’re wrong,” I said with more certainty than I felt. “She can’t be alive. She would have come for me right away.”

  His gaze shot to the ceiling, and he let out a long sigh, like he was appealing to the gods for patience. “Oh, would she? Or maybe she doesn’t love you. In any case, there is your other task. Like I said, if I’m to set you free….”

  Then, from the shadows, he picked up the athame. As I stared at it, a deep longing unfurled in my body. The blade was pale green like jade, but the hilt looked like bone. Gods, I could feel its power from there. My power. Sea magic.

  The sight of it in the hands of the Nameless One made me feel physically sick.

  He held it up. “Is this what you so desire?”

  He knew it was. I wasn’t going to repeat myself.

  Using the athame, he started cutting into the fruit. As he did, a wild hunger ripped through my body.

  Chapter 35

  He held it up to my lips, and all my worries drifted away like seeds on the wind. Lyr’s betrayal, my mother raised from the grave…. They were intangible thoughts I could no longer grasp. I wanted to taste it.

  I didn’t know what it would do. Maybe it was enchanted, so he could trap me in his home as a slave.

  “I’m not going to eat your fruit,” I said, “just so you can turn me into a mindless sex slave or whatever you want.”

  He raised his eyebrows. This close, I could smell a hint of whiskey on him. “That does sound fun, and I truly wish I’d thought of it myself. The idea of you stripping off your clothes and grinding yourself against me in a lust-fueled mania is something I will dwell on later in my free time. But that’s not what I want right now. You once had power over the sea. I might need you to use it again.”

  “What will the fruit do?”

  “It just ensures I’ll be able to find you again.”

  “That sounds awful.”

  “Or you can stay here, in chains, as my prisoner.” It was a threat, but his velvety voice promised seduction.

  I didn’t trust him one bit. And yet—as he’d so nicely pointed out—I didn’t have a ton of options.

  Wild hunger unfurled in my body. “You’ll give my power back to me?”

  A slow shrug. “Eat the fruit, and you might get your power back—in small doses, so you don’t try to kill me. What other choice do you have? Granted,” he purred, “keeping you as a pet of my own does sound interesting.”

  “Who the hells are you, anyway?” I asked. “What’s your real name?”

  “Salem.”

  A shiver rippled up my body. Lyr had said Salem was a god—the god of dusk, in fact. Maybe he had been a god at one point, but he’d since fallen from the heavens. Now, he was a fae, like me, but ancient and a billion times more powerful.

  “Are you the Salem?” I asked. “The one who gave the city his name?”

  His beautiful eyes gleamed with malice. “Ah, so you have heard of me. How flattering. All good things, I assume?”

  “Only today. No one really knows who you are.” I didn’t want him to get a big head or anything.

  Salem held the fruit closer to me, and I gaped at it. I could almost taste the sweet tang on
my tongue, the juices running down my throat. It smelled divine, like an enormous ripe berry, ruby skin glistening in the torchlight. I needed to sink my teeth into it.

  I gritted my teeth, trying to think clearly through my hunger. This was a bad idea, of course. A deal with the devil.

  “You’ve got a simple choice, Aenor. Do as I ask, or you’ll never leave here alive.”

  And then what about Gina? This animal was going to keep me in here until he got what he wanted. Gina would starve to death if I didn’t give in.

  The Nameless One cut deeper into the fruit. Red juice dripped down his fingers, and thirst ripped through me. He moved closer, his power thrumming over my skin.

  He lifted the plump fruit to my face, and I wanted it in my mouth. As if by its own volition, my tongue shot out. I licked the sweet juice off his fingertips, then off the fruit’s glistening skin. Its full flavor entranced me, making me feel just as ripe. Suddenly, I was acutely aware of the feel of the wet shirt on my skin and the tight, wet shorts sculpted to my body. My breath sped up, pulse racing faster.

  Salem’s dusky eyes fluttered for a moment. I lapped up the fruit’s juice from his fingers, savoring every drop until he pulled his hand away again. I hated how much I wanted more of it.

  He flashed me a savage smile. “Why do I feel like you enjoyed that?”

  I slowed my breathing. “It was disgusting.”

  He quirked a smile. “Is that right? That really wasn’t the impression you gave me.”

  He was still toying with me. He’d said that he wanted to torture me, not let me go. Promising freedom and then denying it would be the best sort of torture.

  He leaned in, smelling my neck. “You know, I like the scent of this fruit on you.”

  Of course he did. It smelled of him—seductive and forbidden. His gaze landed on my neck, and I realized a droplet of the juice was running down my throat.

  Salem stroked it with his fingertip, then licked it off, flashing me a wry smile. “I should let you go, of course, but it would be so delightful not to.”

  Oh, screw you. I couldn’t count on him to keep his word. I had to get myself out of this. Maybe I could try that swinging thing and snap his neck with my thighs.

  I glanced behind me, wondering if I could muster up enough momentum to try that move after all, but the sight of the spiked rocks again disabused me of that notion pretty fast.

  One inch back, and my scalp was uncomfortably close to the spikes behind me.

  That was when a thought ignited in my mind. A comb of iron, a stream of water beneath my dangling toes….

  Mama was right—you had to count on yourself.

  Lyr was a liar, and I wasn’t going to wait for him to show up and find me.

  And the animal before me wasn’t going to keep his promises, was he?

  I supposed he’d be able to find me. But maybe if I had enough power—the athame’s power—I wouldn’t be so easy to catch.

  All along, I’d been thinking, If only I had my power back. But I did have some power. I had a sort of comb here, the spikes raking my scalp. I had the water beneath my feet. And I had my song.

  I was done waiting to be saved.

  I smiled at him, shaking my head slowly no, so the spikes dragged through my hair. Then, I began to sing.

  The Nameless One stared at me, entranced as my song curled around him. He dropped the mask of amusement he wore, and his bright eyes held a sad expression.

  I got a glimpse into his soul—the bubble of how he saw me: wicked and enticing at the same time.

  My blue hair enchanted him, cascading down my narrow shoulders. His gaze followed the curves of my tattoos over my tan skin.

  He stared at the T-shirt clinging to my body, damp from where he’d cleaned me, nipples straining against the cotton. The small shorts showed off my shapely legs with the whorls of tattoos over my thighs. He stared at the sweeps of dark eyelashes against my large green eyes. My lips looked inviting to him.

  He saw power coiled in my body, ready to erupt. He didn’t want to unchain me, because he liked me vulnerable before him.

  He was keeping a tight leash on the wild beast inside him, stopping himself from doing what he really wanted to do.

  He loathed me, for certain.

  But I also made him yearn for something he’d lost, and he thirsted for me. I was like a ripe, juicy piece of fruit to him, and he wanted to touch me badly.

  My pulse raced, chest flushing.

  Once I knew I had him completely enthralled, I let the song fade.

  He’d moved closer, and I could feel the heat radiating off him.

  “Now, friend,” I said evenly, “take these cuffs off me and tell me how to get out of here.”

  “I told you I’d let you go,” he murmured. “And I will.”

  He pulled a key from his pocket and reached up for the cuffs. When the lock clicked open, my hands slid out and my feet dropped to the stone, cooled by the water.

  As soon as he’d freed me, I could see some of the sharpness returning to his gaze, his muscles tensing a little. I was running out of time.

  I held out my hand. “The athame,” I commanded him.

  Desire burned in his eyes as he handed it over to me. My hand trembled as I reached for it, then I snatched it from his grip. A jolt of its Meriadoc power shot into my veins, surging through my blood. I let out a shaky sigh, exhilarated by its power.

  It wasn’t what I really wanted—that glorious, innate connection to the sea—but it was the Meriadoc magic, and it was powerful and mine. I felt strong now. Royal once more.

  I could try to kill this man now, but he still had the rest of my power—and I intended to get it back from him some day.

  I started to run.

  Just as I started off, Salem grabbed my arm, his grip tight. “Aenor. Wait.”

  I swung my free fist hard into his face, landing it on his jaw.

  Then, I turned to run for the stairs. Magic spilled through my muscles, giving me speed, and I took the rough stairs two at a time.

  The top of the stairwell opened up into the enormous library, right into the darkest archway. My thumb circled over the athame’s bone hilt. It had an indentation there that I pressed and rubbed, feeling its power charge me.

  I rushed for the door, the air whipping my hair around my head as I practically flew down the hall.

  I nearly crashed into the door, but I managed to stop myself just in time. I slid the bolt across.

  I ran out into the narrow alley, clutching tight to the athame. I wanted to keep it for myself.

  Chapter 36

  I wanted to leach every last bit of magic from the athame until I could tear down my enemies. Aenor Dahut, Flayer of Skins, Scourge of the Wicked.

  I whipped through markets, down narrow alleyways—no idea where I was going, just trying to get some space so I could figure out what to do next. I rushed through the streets with the athame’s power beating through my bones.

  My mind was ablaze.

  Was it true that Mama was alive, or was Salem just trying to confuse me?

  I took a pathway that curved around an ancient church, then darted into a covered market. Get away from that wolf, Aenor. Survive on your own.

  When the fire in my mind started to calm a little, I could think more clearly.

  I’d come to Jerusalem to get Gina. Getting to Gina meant defeating the fuath. When the knights were no longer possessed, they might be able to tell us where to find her.

  Only Lyr knew what to do with the athame to make that happen. He’d kept that knowledge all to himself. It meant I had no other choice but to hand over the athame—unless he’d just been using me this whole time.

  I wiped a hand across my forehead. I’d been running so fast, so wildly, I hadn’t been able to track where I’d been going. I’d been on a street that curved outside the city walls, sloping down into a valley.

  I stopped to catch my breath. Some of that initial rush of Meriadoc power was ebbing now.


  I looked around me. I wasn’t even in the city walls anymore.

  I’d run into a rocky park just outside the walls, with a few trees and some tidy grass. Behind me, dark alcoves stood in a stony wall, as if they’d been worn down over time or carved by men long ago.

  Twilight was about to fall, the skies violet streaked with gold. The evening star burned in the sky, and shadows climbed over the grass like long fingers.

  How long had I been in that terrible cave beneath Salem’s home? All day, it seemed. No wonder I’d been so thirsty, so desperate for that fruit.

  No matter where I went, he’d be able to find me now.

  The sound of drums beat louder, as if the stones themselves were emitting the sound. And distantly, I heard the sound of screams.

  This was his city—and he was a fae ancient enough to be worshipped as a god.

  Why had I come here, to this very spot that sounded like his magic?

  I closed my eyes, breathing in deeply. I needed to track the Ankou. I needed to get the truth out of him.

  Lyr, where are you?

  I listened for the low dirge of his music and tuned into it, trying to lure him to me. Trying to draw him closer with my own song, letting our rhythms meld.

  It didn’t take long before I could smell sea-swept stones moving closer. He wasn’t far.

  After a few minutes, I turned to find him walking for me, gilded in the setting sunlight.

  The sight of him made my body tense. Had he really lied about my mother?

  “There you are.” His blue eyes searched mine. “I was tracking you all day, but your scent was gone until twenty minutes ago. Melisande is half-dead. I tore the city apart looking for you. I was losing my mind until I felt the pull of your magic again.” He stared at the athame. “You found it.”

  I pointed it at him. “Stay where you are.”

  He stopped where he was, fingers twitching. “What’s wrong?”

  I tightened my grip on the hilt. If I really needed to, I thought I could draw more power from it. I could blast him with it.