“I have a lead, but it will take time for it to come to fruition. All hunts have their challenges and this one is no exception.” His stance seemed relaxed, but his hand hovered by the hilt of his sword.
“You’re not taking this seriously enough. If you fail this time, she won’t simply imprison you.”
“I didn’t fail.”
“She doesn’t see it that way. What the queen sees is that once again, you are half the man your father was, lacking in honor and failing in your responsibilities. It’s to be expected, considering your heritage.” The green man sniffed.
Logan tensed. “You can insult me all you want, but my mother was just as much an elvatian as my father was. And far more honorable.”
Even though they were close in height, the green man managed to look down his long stick of a nose at Logan. “You’ll never be one of us, no matter how hard you try to overcome her Fir Bolg blood.” He calmly waited a beat as Logan’s fingers twitched near his hilt.
Trina held her breath, wondering if Logan would pull the sword. But when nothing happened, the elf continued. “There’s still an opportunity to earn the queen’s respect back. If you can convince me that you have the wherewithal to do the task, I might be able to hold her off.” His voice lowered. Trina leaned in, trying to hear his near whisper. “Tell me, boy, why did you fail to kill all the MacElvys at that last location?”
“They were tipped off, gone before I even got there. I killed the one I found.”
Trina gasped. Both men stilled. She held onto the sapphire and willed them to overlook her as the bear of her frozen heart roared in her ears.
Had one of her cousins or her aunt returned to the house looking for her? Had Logan killed her?
Shock kept her immobile as more poisonous words dripped from her fae lover’s lips. “I told you, I have a lead.”
Was he speaking of her? Had she given him the trail? She’d taken him to the Traveller camp, now would he hunt down and kill the rest of her family?
“Why did you not release your hounds on the scent at the house? Why did you burn it so thoroughly that there’s nothing now to track?” The man leaned into Logan’s face. “Why have you continued to fail and fail and fail?”
Logan stood firm, his shoulders and neck stiff with leashed aggression. “I followed her majesty’s orders. She told me to burn it. And so I did.”
Trina’s heart twisted.
She’d thought he’d burnt their home to protect her, but that wasn’t true. He’d done it by order of the Black Queen.
She had to get out of here and escape, while she had the chance. She’d been stupid and trusting. No longer. Now she would strike off on her own and truly escape Logan. Clutching the talisman of Rinnal’s sapphire, she willed it to keep her hidden and began to work her way backward towards the tunnels and away from the two men.
“You’re keeping me from the hunt, Haddon.” Logan said. “The queen will not be pleased.”
Trina froze. Haddon was the name that Mariella Boyd had given her—the name Logan had assured her wasn’t a lead. And yet, here he was plotting with the queen’s advisor to ensure her family’s demise.
“I must go,” Logan said. “You may tell the queen that it will take time, but all will be resolved.”
“Resolved! You always did mince words.” The fae’s lips twisted. “I told her you were too weak to be her huntsman, but no, she said you would take after your father. He, at least, was a ruthless killer, a man who truly deserved the title.” Behind Haddon, the mists of a portal formed. “You had better try harder to live up to your father’s reputation, or you will not have time to create your own. The queen will not spare you again, Huntsman, unless she thinks you are useful.” He headed for the purple mist.
“Where is Prince Kian, Haddon? He was not at court and I haven’t seen him since my release.”
“Hoping he’ll intercede for you?” Haddon sneered. “Don’t count on it. He’s in his own private prison, waiting on the queen’s pleasure. If I were you, I’d worry more about my own head than the prince’s. The queen won’t kill him, but she certainly won’t hesitate to kill you if you fail again.” He stepped into the fully-formed gate, and the mists swallowed him up.
Logan slumped. Trina had a brief urge to go to him and take away that defeated look, but her heart hardened. He’d used her. She needed to go. She stepped backward and a branch snapped. His chin rose and he looked straight at her.
Panicking, she eased away from the protective screen of bushes. She needed to get away. Hoping the stone was doing its job and he hadn’t actually seen her, she looked down for anything that might give her away. Something brushed her aura. Something close and dangerous. She lifted her head and looked into the gleaming eyes of one of Logan’s huge hounds.
A tight gasp escaped her. She stopped being careful and ran. Cursing her heeled boots, she darted around a tree and slammed straight into Logan’s hard chest.
“What were you thinking? I could hear you from the moment you stepped out of the tunnel.” He grabbed her by the shoulders. The hounds pooled around them. “You’re just lucky Haddon isn’t a hunter, he’d have had you in seconds.” He let go, his fierce eyes pinning her in place.
“I...”
He dropped his voice and held a finger to her lips. “Shh. Don’t speak. He might have left a spy.” He glanced around the area. “Search.” The hounds had barely melted into the underbrush when Logan grabbed her arm again in a bruising grip. “Do you see what you’re doing to me? You have me distracted, lass. Too distracted. We’ll end up dead, if I’m not careful. Come, you’ll be safer inside.”
She resisted, dragging her weight. Cursing at her slow pace he scooped her up and carried her to the tunnel entrance. Without hesitation the stones opened and she was dumped on her backside in the dank interior of the tunnel.
“Don’t move,” he growled.
The stones closed and she was shut into the darkness. Her chest tightened and she reminded herself to breathe. Just breathe.
She grabbed the sapphire and wished hard for light. The familiar blue glow sprang up. Before she had even gotten to her feet, Logan was back, the hounds flowing in a fast stream into the tunnel. She struggled to rise against the tide of dogs pushing past her into the small space.
“What were you thinking?” Logan’s furious eyes reflected the sapphire’s magical glow. “I left you safe in bed and here you are, right under the queen’s nose.”
His body shook.
She shrank back but she wouldn’t let him intimidate her. Not now, not again. She lifted her chin high, staring him in the face. “You’re only using me to find my family, then you’ll kill us all!”
“Why would you think that?” His arms dropped to his side, the anger dropping from his face leaving only stunned confusion. “I’ve done nothing but protect you.” He backed away from her, nearly hitting the opposite wall of the tiny rock chamber.
“I heard you telling that man you had a lead. Do you think I will help you slaughter my family?” She clenched her fists at her side. “Who did you kill at the house? Bryanna, Cassie?” The thought of her beautiful cousins dead and burned formed a lump of betrayal in the back of her throat.
“Is that what you thought you heard? I did tell him I had a lead. Have you ever tried to lie to a fae?” His eyes sparkled with fiercely controlled anger. “No. I can see that you have not. Well, let me tell you, you can’t. We smell lies. It’s even more difficult if you are one yourself. We cannot lie.”
“Everyone lies.” She inched away from him, backing step by careful step further into the depths of the tunnel.
“No, the fae do not. Or I should say, we can, but we have to be tricky about it. Everything that leaves my mouth has to be the absolute truth. It’s part of our magic. None of the true fae can lie. Trust me, it’s damned irritating.” He caught hold of her hand.
“So you are betraying me!” She tried to pull away from him, but he held her fast.
“Nay lass, I am n
ot and have not betrayed you.”
“You either were lying to him or you are lying now.”
“Listen to me, Trina. I cannot lie, but I can dissemble. I can say enough of a selected truth to be believed. I told him the truth—I have a lead, but I didn’t tell him that I have you.” His voice grew strong ringing with conviction against the tunnel walls. “I have no intention of turning you over to the queen, or of killing you.”
She stopped struggling. “Look at me and tell me you are not going to kill my family either.”
He let go and straightened to his full height, holding her gaze with his. “Trina, I am doing my best to save you, your family, and myself from the wrath of the queen.” She couldn’t look away as bright blue magic twined around them, lighting up the sincerity in Logan’s face. “You have my word. I, Logan Ni Brennan of the Fir Bolg and Huntsman of the Black Court of the Tuatha De Danann, have no intention of killing you, Trina MacElvy, nor your family.”
Under his gaze, steady as truth, her anger deserted her. But there was still one fact left.
“If you can’t lie, then who did you kill at my house?”
“I have risked my life for you and this is what you think of me?” His words spat out like bullets. “I killed a doe and presented its heart to the queen.”
“You didn’t wake me up. Didn’t say good bye. What was I supposed to think when I followed you here and found you sneaking around behind my back with that sleazy elf?”
“I left you sleeping.” His body seemed to release, the tension draining out as he sighed and brushed a few escaped strands of long hair back from his face. “You looked so comfortable and it had been a difficult night. I saw no reason to wake you. I couldn’t bring you here to meet with him.” He looked tired without his anger to support him. “I don’t expect you to understand the politics of my situation. I may be hundreds of years older than you, but I am very young compared to the majority of those at court. I have few contacts, and fewer still that I trust. I have had to walk a very thin line for you, lass.”
“Why did you meet with him? Isn’t he the enemy?”
“Yes, he’s the enemy. But if I don’t look like I’m doing something, the queen will demand my head.” A twinkle started in his eye and his lips began to slide up into his now-so-familiar teasing grin. “And I rather like my head.”
She couldn’t resist smiling back. “Men!” She laughed. It echoed off the rock walls as Logan swept her up in his arms and spun her around the tight tunnel, the hounds fleeing to press against the sides. She wrapped her arms around him, buried her face in his neck, and inhaled his smoky scent.
He hadn’t killed anyone. He wasn’t turning her family over to the queen. But could she really trust him the way she wanted to?
Logan put her down and led the way into the tunnel.
“Did you ask Haddon about Aoife?” At least she was sure now that Mariella had been wrong. Creepy, green Haddon wasn’t someone to rely on in their search for clues to the queen’s vendetta. And he certainly wasn’t someone who would ever aid the MacElvys.
“No. I have no confidence in him at all.” He strode ahead, casting frequent looks back, almost as if reassuring himself that she was still there. “Haddon has never been anything but the queen’s man. I’ll start my search for Aoife tomorrow.”
“You mean we will start our search tomorrow.” He stopped and turned to face her so fast she bumped into him and stumbled.
“I won’t risk exposing you. If I find her, I’ll bring you to her. But only if I deem the odds acceptable.” He placed a finger lightly on her lips. “Remember, this is your first hunt and you are unfamiliar with the ground we must cover. If I’m to serve your interests, I need to be focused on the hunt and not on protecting your sweet ass.” He grinned again, his arm swooping behind her to swat her on the backside.
She snorted at his bright eyes and high-handed attitude and decided to leave it. For now.
“So, if I’m to understand your decision making process, you expect me to simply follow your lead in this hunt and stay home. You need to explain some of what has gone into your decision.”
“Such as?”
“Such as, why does the queen expect you to be like your father?”
He kept walking, and she kept quiet as she waited for him to fill in the silence.
It took a while, but he started to talk. “By human standards, my father wasn’t much of a father.” She drew closer to hear his quiet words. “By elvatian standards, he was adequate. He ignored me until I was old enough to be of use to him at court, and then he took me away from my uncles and introduced me to the queen. The Black Court was—is—a miasma of fear, negativity, and beauty.” His voice drifted off. “Such beauty.”
Trina grew impatient waiting for him to continue.
“I was lucky,” he said, finally. “Prince Kian liked me. I became one of his favorites and he protected me from the worst of the court. But the queen always kept an eye on me. And when my father came to his untimely demise, she wanted me to replace him. Take over the family business.” The weight of the sarcasm in his voice filled the silence as they walked...the only other sound besides their boots, the soft padding of the hounds, and the occasional whoosh of air.
“I would have resisted her invitation had it not been for the prince. She threatened to send me away if I didn’t take on the position and I wouldn’t leave Kian.”
“Why you?”
“Not everyone can be a huntsman for the Great Hunt. I have the necessary Gifts and I inherited many things from my father, such as the hounds.” He reached out and fondled the ear of the hound on his right, who lifted his head and waved his tail. “And so began my descent into the belly of the court. I don’t know how depraved I would have become in her service if she hadn’t pushed the prince too far.”
He slowed, and they stopped. “The prince rebelled. I was thrown into the queen’s dungeon, a confinement from which I have recently been released.” He leaned low and dropped his voice to a dark whisper, breathing his words on the sensitive skin of her neck. “My release was contingent on my killing a certain family of the Seven Tribes. I went to serve my queen. And then I found you, my naked witch, casting spells in the gloaming.”
He had every motive to kill her, to use her to track down her family and kill them as well. His honor and commitment to the prince pitted him against the queen, but his survival depended on serving the same queen. Her fate, the fate of her heart, depended on his making a choice. Had he made it? Was she right to put her trust in him?
He reached for her hand, tracing a shivery pattern on her palm. “Tell me, what spells have you cast on me, my witch, that I flaunt the queen’s demands and do all I can to save you?” His haunted eyes gleamed in the dark, and a cold shiver crept down her spine.
Chapter Twenty-three
Haddon flexed his fingers and folded them behind his back, staying well out of the way of the confrontation in front of him.
“What do you mean she still lives?” The queen’s voice rose, vibrating the crystals of the chandelier in Owen’s tiny room. “That stupid boy gave me her heart. I have it in a box in my treasure chamber!” She leaned in and stared at the old psychic, her black tresses coiling and uncoiling around her head.
The mirror shrank against the wall, his eyes flitting back and forth between the queen’s mottled face and the tinkling, swaying chandelier above his head.
“I d-d-don’t know what to say, my queen.” Owen flailed his hands. “It isn’t clear. All I can see is th-th-that she’s living in the Black Forest and is under th-th-the protection of the Seven Brothers of the Fir Bolg.” He extended a trembling hand out to Haddon, his eyes begging for help.
Haddon kept his face blank and made sure he, himself, was not in the path of the heavy light fixture. The man was a fool. They needed a new mirror. Why risk his own neck for the used up psychic as he had in the past? It would do no good anyhow—the man’s news was horrible, he was as good as dead.
“Ho
w dare they?” The queen’s wings beat hard and fast and the walls began to shake. “I should storm the Black Forest, tear them out of their hiding places. Root out every last Fir Bolg until they are completely exterminated for good!”
The mirror squatted, throwing his hands over his head, hiding from the queen’s angry shrieks. A stone worked its way free of the wall and toppled. It crashed to the floor, shattering on impact, leaving behind a ragged crater in the marble floor.
The queen’s voice grew louder. Her wings flapped scraping the sides of the small chamber and raising a cool wind. Haddon flattened against the wall, coughing as dust from the cracking ceiling choked the air. Edging along the wall, he ducked and avoided a flaring wing as he headed for the exit.
The chandelier shuddered. Individual crystals dropped one-by-one, tinkling as they shattered on the floor. One dropped right on his boot, cutting the soft leather and stabbing into his big toe. He stopped playing cool and ran for the door.
“Help me!” Owen screamed.
Hand on the latch, Haddon glanced back. The old man cowered under the dropping danger of the crystals, trying to shelter his head under bony arms. Haddon had a flash of the boy Owen once was years ago, cowering in a corner from the queen and Haddon soothing him, seducing him into becoming lovers. Haddon snarled and went back, darting through the avalanche of rocks, dust, and glass, he grabbed the stupid oaf, dragging him to the relative safety of the hallway.
“I will find her.” The queen’s eyes were swirling purple vortexes. “I will destroy her. And then, I will destroy all who have helped her!” The queen’s voice escalated into an unintelligible mix of words and shrieks. Haddon sheltered in the hall and waited for the storm to subside. He subdued his desire to kick Owen, crouching at his feet. He bitterly hoped the huntsman would show up again soon. He, himself, would serve Logan’s head to the queen on a silver platter, along with a side of the MacElvy girl’s bloody heart.
Deceiving the queen was a mistake, but deceiving him would be fatal.
As he listened to the old man’s pathetic wails and waited for the queen to finish demolishing the mirror’s chamber, he plotted. It wasn’t that he cared for the useless wretch, but until they had obtained another psychic, Owen was all they had. And he still had some uses.
Hunted: A fae fantasy romance (Fae Magic Book 1) Page 19
