Yes, this was best. This was the only way. Something scratched at my arms. Someone … The child … I had to save the girl, but the abyss was calling, pulling me back, slowing my pace, and then, like a knife, the sound of bells cut through the specters’ hold. Tinny at first and then louder and louder, they rang, pushing away the darkness attempting to take over my mind. Shadows to my left and to my right. Specters breathing down my neck. I picked up the speed. Shit, I’d almost let them have me.
The arch with the horn hooked to it came into view. Cernunnos’s horn. The horn of a fucking god who’d rounded up souls. My hands tingled and my body beelined for the arch. The bells clambered and clanged. I set the child on the ground. Her whimpering was a secondary thing because my focus was on the horn. My fingers reached for it even as the monsters swooped down toward us.
The little girl’s scream was a horrific thing, fighting for dominance over the bells, and then the horn was in my hand. The bells stopped abruptly as I pressed the lip of the horn to my mouth. I blew into the instrument, expelling my breath in one long exhalation. There was no bellow, no sound, but as if activated by my breath, the horn started to glow. The square was suddenly deathly silent, no screams, no screeches, nothing. Every particle, every atom was in freeze mode. Hands trembling, chest aching, I lowered the horn to stare at the specters frozen in place with their obsidian sockets turned my way and cavernous mouths locked in an open position. The little girl slipped her hand into mine.
“What … what’s happening?” she asked.
Heck if I knew. My gaze passed through the shadows of the hungry souls and fixed on a light—a shutter pulled open and a horrified face. Alaron locked gazes with me across the cobbled square and then a rumble like thunder rolled across the land.
Alaron’s lips were moving. He was shouting but there was no sound except the rush of blood in my ears and the throb of my pulse in my throat. There was no sensation except a strange winding and tightening in my solar plexus where my flame would normally be, and then lightening ripped the sky, blinding me with its intensity. For a moment, the world was a supernova, and then both light and sound faded into the clatter of hooves and the bay of hounds.
Something was coming, something wonderful and terrifying. The horn pulsed and grew pleasantly warm and then new shadows streamed into the square—figures on horses preceded by hounds with heads that reached my shoulder. The figures tore through the square wielding glowing green whips that curled and snapped. Each specter that they touched turned to green smoke. The child hugged my thigh as the monsters fell one by one until they were all gone, eaten by the tips of the green glowing whips.
Slowly, and deliberately, the horde turned its attention to me. They surrounded the archway, horses snorting plumes of gray smoke, eyes glowing neon green. Hounds padded closer, heads down, ears back. The largest figure, bulky and hooded and astride the hugest black horse, clipped forward. His eyes were crimson fire peering at me from the shadows of a black hood. The figure dismounted and strode toward me. I stepped back, but the arch was behind me, holding me in place.
The horn glowed brighter as the figure approached, and I held it up. “Stay back.”
He stopped and cocked his head. “You have his blood. You have his power.”
What was he talking about?
Another figure dismounted, red-robed and slender. “This one reeks of mortal flesh.” The voice was female. “Caister, how can this be?”
“I do not know, but it is so. She has the horn, and she summoned us. Can you not feel the power?”
The female walked closer but stopped several feet away. She circled me, her whip dangling lazily in her hand, her boots crunching through the snow.
“Dia?” the man prompted.
She made a low sound of exasperation in her throat. “I sense it among other things. What are you?” She hissed the words at me, as if offended by my existence.
“Dia! Do not forget yourself,” Caister said. “We have a vow, an obligation to Cernunnos.” He slowly dropped to his knees, and after a moment the woman followed suit. “The Hunt is yours to command, blood of Cernunnos.”
My skin prickled. Cernunnos … Me? Oh, crap. The fey gene … Could it be? It had to be. And this … This was the Wild Hunt. I’d heard of them, read about them in books at the Compound. They were here because of me. Because of the horn.
“What is your wish?” Caister asked.
Was that a slight mocking tone to his voice? Never mind. Focus. My wish? An army … This was an army. “Can you steal the souls of the living?”
Dia looked up, her red eyes gleaming hungrily. “You would give us this? You would allow us to take souls before their time?”
I smirked. “Oh, believe me, these living should have been dead a long time ago; they’ve cheated death long enough, and now it’s time to put things right. Will you come with me to the mortal realm?”
“We will go where you command,” they said in unison.
The hounds chuffed and snorted as if eager to get going.
My pulse kicked up, and I caught a glimpse of Alaron’s face through the shutters, his shock and his awe, and shit, this was what the fey had been missing. They’d lost Cernunnos, and so they’d lost the Hunt that kept the dead under control, and now I was about to take them away.
“How long would it take for you to round up the restless dead in Faerie?”
“We are ravenous, blood of Cernunnos,” Dia said. “It will be done by dawn.”
“Do it and then return here to me.”
“We will come where summoned by the horn,” Caister said. “We will do your bidding.”
I stared at the horn. Some kind of conduit then? I could just take it with me and blow it and they’d come?
“Um, okay then. You can go and do your thing, and I’ll see, I mean, summon you later.”
His lips curled sardonically before he inclined his head and backed up toward his horse.
The hounds howled and then Dia and Caister rose and mounted their steeds. Thunder rolled, and lightning split the sky, and when the flare of the flash died the Hunt was gone.
The doors to the tavern swung open to admit me and the child. The horn was still clutched in my trembling hand, because now that the Hunt was gone, now that it was over, the adrenaline that had flooded my system was ebbing, leaving me shaking like a leaf. I’d fought Feral and Fang and Claw, but those specters, the dread and despair they’d projected, the yawning abyss they’d shown me, had left a residue of terror in my mind.
Elsi drew the child away from me, coaxing and cajoling her with the promise of comfort. I let her go. She was safe here with her people, but her mother … Her poor mother …
Alaron placed a hand on the small of my back and steered me back to our table. I fell into my seat and placed the horn on the table in front of me before carefully peeling my fingers from it and clasping them together to stop them from shaking.
“Eva, are you all right?” Alaron’s tone was gentle and concerned.
“I’m fine. Just the adrenaline coming down. I’ll be fine.”
“Do you realize what you just did?” He shook his head. “I sensed something strange about you, but I didn’t expect this.”
I met his gaze. “I summoned the Wild Hunt. I can do that because I think I must have Cernunnos’s genes.”
He stared at me, confused.
Fuck it, he’d saved Sage’s life and mine, and dammit, I needed to talk about it, to understand what was happening to me, what I’d stumbled into. “I’m not just a mortal, Alaron. I’m a patchwork of races. I’m a chimera.”
I explained it to him the best I could, leaving out the part about my rapid sprint toward death.
He sucked in a breath. “So Cernunnos has chosen death.” Pain flashed across his face. “I had hoped he had merely traveled beyond our realms. A sabbatical, maybe. He was jaded by his responsibilities to the realm and his ties to the Hunt. Then one day he was gone. I tracked him to this village, but all I found was his horn
. I had it mounted here in the hope that one day he would return. That he would hear its call and come.”
Its call? The bells. “There are no bells, are there?”
He shook his head slowly. “When you mentioned hearing the bells, I was intrigued. I suspected you may have some kind of power, but I never expected it to be a connection to the horn. But it called to you, and you summoned the Hunt. There can be no doubt of your heritage.” He swallowed hard. “There can be no doubt that Cernunnos has stepped into the underworld. His death is the only way mortals would have been able to take these gene samples from him.”
“You don’t know that. He might have volunteered the data.” God, how could I convince him when I sounded so doubtful myself.
He let out a short bark of laughter. “There is no way Cernunnos would have volunteered anything. When we revealed our existence to mortals, we provided your government with the samples they requested as a gesture of good faith, but Cernunnos was amongst the most vocal objectors to the deal, so you see, if you have his genes, then he is gone.”
My mind drifted back to the data at Jamie’s base. The details I’d skimmed over because they’d been so distressing. Details of when the infection had first begun to spread and how the human government had captured supernaturals, held them captive and tortured them in the name of science, in the quest for a cure. If Cernunnos had become caught up in that age, then it was highly possible that he died horrifically. I pressed my lips together. Yeah, Alaron did not need to know that.
“It seems you have your army after all,” Alaron continued. “There is no need to make the journey to the citadel. I appreciate you instructing the Hunt to claim the dead in Faerie first.”
The look on Dia’s face, the hunger in her voice flitted through my mind. “They feed off the dead, don’t they? Feed off the souls.”
“No, Eva. The Tuatha de Danann and the lesser fey do not have souls. When we die, we release powerful energy which eventually finds its way into the underworld to be reborn anew without memory—new fey, new lives. We may be immortal, but we are not invulnerable; we have weaknesses that can end us. However, the energy we release upon our demise is susceptible to manipulation by outside forces. Eons ago there was a sect of fey who would harness this energy for malevolent purposes, using it to raise themselves in the ranks, to try and rival the Tuatha de Danann, and so the most powerful fey banded together to stop them. We bound them to an object.” His gaze dropped to the horn.
“And created the Wild Hunt …”
His smile was perfunctory. “Yes. Their hunger for power became a hunger for the energy. They feed off it now, cleansing it and siphoning it directly to the underworld and thus preventing it from being used for nefarious purposes. The god Cernunnos was chosen as the keeper of the Hunt. When he left, the energy began to build, but it wasn’t a problem, not until recently. The destructive behavior of the energy is what first alerted us to the existence of a malevolent presence in Faerie. Something has been driving the energy, controlling it, but now that the Hunt is back we will be able to take away this strange force’s advantage.”
“So, you don’t have a problem with me taking the Hunt with me to the mortal realm?”
He frowned. “Why would I? You’ll be bringing them back.” His eyes gleamed in the gloom. “The Hunt belongs to Faerie, and now, so do you.”
He thought Faerie had found a replacement for Cernunnos in me. Well, he was sadly mistaken. Even if I wasn’t dying there was no way I’d leave my world, leave the guys to come live here.
He was watching me studiously. “What is it?”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I was dying, to tell him the truth of my intentions, but my gut told me to zip it. There was more to this fey than met the eye. He was revered here, obeyed without question. He’d been friends with a god, and there was no doubt in my mind that if he wanted to, he could stop me from leaving. Revelation stole over my mind. The answer had been staring me in the face all along and it had my pulse spiking with fear and annoyance.
“You’re the Winter King, aren’t you?”
He sat back in his seat with a tight smile. “Yes.”
“You came here for your daughter.”
He nodded. “I heard rumors that she had been spotted near Merryville, and so I traveled here. I had to try to make contact with her.”
“And did you?”
He tucked in his chin. “Not yet. I have a day or so more to try and then I must travel back to the Winter Court and resume my duties as monarch. The climate is one of fear, and I cannot leave my people without a regent for too long.”
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”
He traced the grain of the wood on the table with an index finger. “To avoid harassment. There’s nothing I can do for you, and I didn’t need you badgering me while I was here. Sage would understand. We have a history, he and I. The djinn has been a guest at my court on many occasions. But he was unconscious, and you … you were an unknown factor.”
But I had what I needed now. I picked up the horn and turned it over. “The Hunt will have finished cleaning up Faerie by dawn, and Sage will be awake. We’ll leave then.”
He nodded. “I’ll take you to the thinning and help you pass through.” He placed a hand over mine. His skin was cool but there was a suppressed power in his gentle grip; this was a hand that probably wielded a hefty sword. He certainly had the build for it. “Remember, Eva, the Hunt is a scavenger, a hungry beast, and mortal souls are a delicacy they have been denied for too long.”
“Yes. I’ve read the stories.”
He rolled his eyes. “Your human stories are mere shadows of reality. The truth is that the Hunt was starving. Not enough fey energy to keep it sated. After all, fey are immortal; we don’t meet our demise easily. So, the High Queen sanctioned the Hunt to ride through the mortal realm from time to time when the veil between worlds was thin. They were permitted a quota of human souls marked by the shadow of death, a bargain made with death himself. You see, whereas fey energy is powerful and can be utilized for great malice, it doesn’t make a very sustaining meal. However, human souls are like ten-course meals. The deal worked until Cernunnos vanished, and then we were cut off from the human realm, so … Yes, the Hunt is famished. So, be clear on your instructions to them and maintain a tight hold on the leash.”
A shiver of apprehension skittered up my spine. “I’ll keep that in mind.” My tone might have been super calm but there was definite potential to freak out.
What the heck did I know about fey lore and managing a group of bound fey who, if left unchecked, would have gone around wreaking malevolent havoc. I was an eighteen-year-old woman rapidly approaching the end of her shelf life. But the calm was a façade I’d cultivated for long enough that it fell over me like a comfortable blanket.
Alaron watched me probingly for a long beat, and then, as if satisfied with what he observed, relaxed back into his seat.
“Get some rest,” he said. “Sage’s bed should be large enough to accommodate you both.” He gave me a knowing smile and then pushed back his seat. “I’ll see you at dawn, Eva.”
“Where are you going?”
He looked to the door. “Rayne is out there somewhere, and I must find her.”
He strode from the tavern, leaving me alone with the village folk who, in the absence of their king, were giving me surreptitious glances. I was the mortal who’d summoned the Hunt, and I was fucking exhausted. Pushing back my chair, I headed past a stunned Elsi toward the corridor, bed, and Sage.
Chapter Fifteen
The lamp in the room was turned down low, and Sage was still unconscious. I dropped my sword at the foot of the bed, tugged off my boots and trousers, and then carefully climbed into the bed beside the djinn. His body was pleasantly warm—a healthy heat, not a fever. The healing poultice that Elsi had made for his head wound was obviously working. God, I was tired. Snuggling into him, I closed my eyes and drifted off on a wave of exhaustion.
A change in temperature pulled me from sleep what seemed like only minutes later, but the lamp was out, the room was bathed in gray predawn light, and Sage’s side of the bed was empty.
He hadn’t gone far, though. The huge djinn was standing with his back to me, looking out the window at the steady snowfall. His head was free of the bandages, and his torso was bare—all toned, velvet skin and muscle, tapering down to his narrow waist and tight butt encased in just his boxers. My gaze slipped down to his thighs. God, what was it about a pair of powerful thighs that could get a woman wet.
“Like what you see?” His voice was a low, gravelly rumble, and my mouth was suddenly dry. He looked over his shoulder and the teasing tone dropped from his voice. “I thought I lost you.” He walked back to the bed but didn’t get in. Instead he looked down on me from his vast height as if memorizing my every feature. “I promised I’d find you, and I didn’t.” There was regret in the furrow of his brow, and anger too. “I failed you.”
It was my turn to frown. “Seriously? You’re going to blame yourself for something you had no control over? We got separated, and you got hurt, but you made sure to send someone after me before you collapsed. Trust me, Sage, you did fucking fantastic under the circumstances. Now please, get your sexy arse back into bed.”
He obliged, thighs bunching as he climbed in beside me. I pulled the covers over us and snuggled into the crook of his arm.
“You could have died,” he said softly.
“So could you.”
“I promised the guys. I promised them I’d keep you safe.”
“And you did. Alaron found me, and we’re all good.”
“We’ve wasted hours, Eva. So many hours.”
Ah, yes. He didn’t know about the Hunt. I sat up so I could look at his face. God, he was stunning with his wide cheekbones, straight nose, and full, pouty mouth that begged to be kissed, and he was here, barely clothed in bed with me, in his own body … His own form with no host to worry about.
For the Reign Page 12
