by Jenna Black
Finn came to stand over Keane, folding his arms over his chest and looking like he could go another thirty minutes without being winded. “This is how you fared against your father, who isn’t about to hurt you. Imagine if I’d been a hostile Knight out to kill you. And that’s not even considering the possibility of going up against the Erlking and the Wild Hunt. Then tell me again that you think you’re capable of protecting Dana as well as a professional.”
He looked back and forth between the two of us, just to make sure both of us got the message. We did.
Finn turned to me while Keane continued to lie on the mats sucking in air. “I’m not going to tell your father about tonight’s escapade, because I believe you have a good head on your shoulders and won’t pull a stupid stunt like that again. Am I right?”
I nodded meekly. Finn was doing me a ginormous favor by not telling on me. If my father found out what I’d done, I might not be allowed to leave my safe house for the rest of my life.
“Thank you,” I said tentatively. “And I’m sorry.”
Finn didn’t acknowledge the apology. Guess he was still mad. “You’re going to bed now,” was all he said.
Keane groaned and propped himself up on his elbows. I had a feeling Finn wasn’t through making him pay for my mistake. If I’d thought anything I said would help, I’d have stuck around and tried my best. Instead, feeling totally wretched, I left Keane alone with his father and fled to my room.
Chapter Six
I woke up on Saturday morning feeling just as bad as I had when I’d climbed into bed and pulled the covers over my head the night before. Keane had basically taken the whole rap for me last night, and that sucked. It wasn’t that I thought Finn had hurt him all that much, and considering Keane’s choice of profession, he had to have a pretty high tolerance for pain anyway. But I knew his pride had taken a beating, and I knew him well enough to realize how much that must have hurt him.
I can’t say I regretted going to the party, though, despite my guilty conscience. If I tried to convince myself to regret it, my mind conjured an image of Kimber’s face as she opened the present I’d given her, and I knew it had been worth it. (For me, at least. Keane might disagree.)
Usually, when I got up in the morning, I’d make some coffee for myself and some tea for Finn, who seemed to function just fine on what had to be about three or four hours of sleep a night and was always awake before me. He had his own kitchenette—even smaller than mine—in the guardroom, but he’d always seemed to appreciate the gesture.
A part of me really wanted to forego the ritual this morning. I didn’t much want to face Finn after last night. Would he still be mad at me? Would I feel guilty every time I looked at him?
In the end, I decided I’d probably feel worse if I sat around in my suite brooding about it, so I fixed the tea and coffee, then took a deep breath and ventured out into the guardroom.
To my intense relief, Finn acted as if nothing had happened. There was no hint of anger or reproach in his gaze as he looked at me, and he didn’t give me any paternal-sounding lectures. Not that he was ever what I would call talkative.
“I need some groceries,” I told him when he’d finished his tea and I was preparing to take the dishes back to my kitchen.
Finn nodded. “Give me a list of what you need, and I’ll ask your father to stop by the store on his way over for dinner tonight.”
I’d totally forgotten Dad was coming tonight, but I wasn’t about to let him be my grocery boy. I’d been responsible for buying groceries since I was about ten. Besides, a trip to the grocery store would get me out of the cave for a while. I could see the sun, and breathe some fresh air.
“I’d rather buy my own groceries,” I told Finn.
“It would be simpler to let your father do it,” he answered.
I grimaced, realizing that an official excursion from my safe house was a pain in the butt these days.
“My deal with my dad was that I could go out as long as I had an extra bodyguard.”
Finn looked like he might be about to argue, and I prepared to embarrass the both of us by claiming to need things that a man wouldn’t be comfortable shopping for, but he relented before I had to stoop to lying.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll give Lachlan a call and see if he’s available.”
* * *
Lachlan might be considered by some as an unusual choice of bodyguard. He had been my aunt Grace’s boyfriend, before Aunt Grace went completely around the bend. I knew he still loved her, and sometimes when I saw him he’d try to convince me that she wasn’t really that bad a person but was just misunderstood. He was never going to convince me of that, but when I saw the pain in his eyes, I couldn’t blame him for trying. I also knew that no matter how he felt about Grace, he wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt me, and since he was a troll beneath the glamour spell that made him appear human, he was an excellent protector.
My dad was as convinced of Lachlan’s reliability as I was. However, Dad had made the location of my safe house into such a deep, dark secret that other than me, only Finn, Keane, and my parents knew where it was. Personally, I thought Lachlan could be trusted with the secret if he was trusted enough to act as my bodyguard, but Dad had been adamant that only those who absolutely had to know the location would be told. Which meant that Finn and I had to meet Lachlan in one of the more populated sections of the tunnel complex.
Finn made me hang back before we turned the final corner, but then I heard him greet Lachlan and beckon to me. I hated that we had to go through all this crap just for me to make a stop at the grocery store. I tried to convince myself this was a temporary inconvenience, that eventually we would find a better way for me to live safely in Avalon. I wasn’t entirely successful.
When I joined Finn and Lachlan, the little hairs on my arms prickled with the distinctive sensation of magic in the air. I wondered if my so-far futile attempts to learn magic were actually having more effect than I’d realized. I knew that Finn always had a shield spell up when he went out in public, and Lachlan had his glamour, but I hadn’t actually sensed that magic in the past. I really wished I could ask them about it, but my ability to sense magic was another deep, dark secret. When I’d told Ethan about it, he’d told me that Faeriewalkers usually had no other magical abilities. He then warned me that my potential magic skills would paint an even bigger target on my back, and that I should keep it secret from everyone—even my father.
The streets were quieter than usual—a sure sign that the Wild Hunt was still in town. Finn wasn’t exactly relaxed, but Lachlan seemed even more tense and watchful. He was usually friendly and talkative, but today he was as talkative as Finn. Which is to say not at all.
They didn’t shadow me through the aisles of the tiny neighborhood grocery store where I bought my supplies, probably only because there were only about three people in the place. I took longer than I strictly needed to, but wandering the aisles without my bodyguards felt like such a decadent slice of normalcy that I couldn’t help savoring it.
That whole normalcy thing went right out the window as soon as I set foot outside the store, flanked by Finn and Lachlan. The distinctive roar of motorcycles split the air, and both Finn and Lachlan went on red alert. Magic thickened around me, the sensation like a thousand little electric shocks pinging against my skin.
The motorcycles came flying around the corner, and I knew as soon as I caught sight of them just who the bikers were.
The Erlking rode slightly ahead of his Huntsmen, who followed two-by-two behind him. As they had been when I’d first seen them, they were all dressed in black, and the huge motorcycles they rode were as black as their horses.
The Erlking came to a stop directly in front of me, despite Finn’s attempts to keep me behind him, and the rest of the Huntsmen quickly surrounded us. They circled us in perfect unison, the Huntsmen effortlessly jumping the curb when necessary. The bikes roared even though they weren’t going terribly fast.
Finn put a hand on my arm, and the prickling increased. At a guess, I’d say he’d extended his shield spell over my body. Lachlan stood motionless on my other side. The street and sidewalks around us had emptied as if by magic.
The Erlking twisted the handlebars of his bike, making it growl even more fiercely. Flames shot out from the exhaust pipes, reminding me of how his horse had seemed to breathe fire. I couldn’t help cringing at the sound as he revved the engine again. I might have embarrassed myself by covering my ears if Finn hadn’t had such a firm grip on my arm. I could hear the Erlking laughing even over the roar of the bikes.
Then suddenly, all the Huntsmen came to a stop at the same moment, the roar of their bikes subsiding to a growling idle.
My heart beating in my throat, I glanced around at these nightmares of Faerie. Each of the Huntsmen was dressed identically in unadorned black riding leathers. Black helmets with reflective visors hid their faces, and black gloves—or maybe I should call them gauntlets—hid their hands so that not a hint of skin or hair was visible. Only the fact that their builds were slightly different from one another stopped them from looking like a bunch of clones.
The Erlking was another story. His black leather was heavily adorned with silver studs and spikes, and he actually had silver spurs attached to his heavy motorcycle boots. The spurs might have made him look silly if he weren’t so terrifying.
He, too, wore gauntlets, though his had wicked silver spikes across the knuckles. Yikes! His helmet was oddly shaped, coming to a point in front of his face like it was the helmet from a suit of armor, and silver antlers were painted on each side of his head, reminding me of the grotesque mask he’d been wearing when I first saw him. More frightening still, he wore a familiar scabbard draped over his back, though at least he didn’t draw the sword.
When I’d seen him from a distance, I’d known immediately that he was a big guy. Up close and personal like he was now, I saw that he was huge. He had to be at least six foot five, and though his body was well hidden behind all that black leather, I could tell from the way he filled out the outfit that he was solidly muscled. As if he weren’t intimidating enough otherwise.
I don’t know how long our silent standoff lasted. It felt like forever, but was probably only a few minutes at most. My mouth was dry with fear, even though I knew he couldn’t hurt me, and if my heart raced any faster, I’d die of a heart attack.
And then the Erlking reached up and removed his helmet.
I felt like my racing heart had suddenly stopped beating as I watched him shake out his hair and hook his helmet on the handlebars of his bike.
There’s no such thing as an ugly Fae. At least not among the Sidhe, the aristocracy of Faerie. Their faces are always perfectly proportioned, their skin always completely devoid of blemishes or wrinkles or freckles. Even so, not all Fae are created equal. Up until this moment, Finn had topped my list of most gorgeous creatures I’d ever laid eyes on. The Erlking set a new standard.
The Fae are usually blond, with a few redheads thrown in for variety, but the Erlking’s hair was a deep, glossy black and reached halfway down his back. His eyes were of deepest blue, framed by thick black lashes, and his mouth should be in the dictionary beside the word sensual. A striking blue tattoo in the shape of a leaping stag curved around the side of his face from just above his eyebrow down to his cheekbone.
Like all the Fae, the Erlking was ageless, his face belonging to someone in his mid-twenties, but there was something about his eyes that made him look … ancient. There were depths of knowledge in those eyes that made me feel like I could drown in them.
I forced myself to remember the sight of him raising his sword to kill an unarmed, fleeing man. The memory didn’t make him any less gorgeous, but it did stop me from staring at him in what I suspect was an embarrassing state of awe.
“Dana, daughter of Seamus,” the Erlking said in a voice that blended with the rumble of the bikes. “Well met.”
He put his hand over his heart, then bowed from the waist. The gesture should have looked awkward while he was straddling his bike, but it didn’t.
I figured keeping my mouth shut was the best option when facing malevolent creatures of Faerie. The Erlking’s eyes twinkled with humor for a moment before he turned his attention to Finn.
“And Finn, of the Daoine Sidhe.” He didn’t bow this time, but he did nod his head with what looked almost like respect. “A worthy guardian for Avalon’s most precious jewel.”
I wasn’t surprised that Finn also chose to keep quiet. Like I said, he’s the strong, silent type.
I expected the Erlking to greet Lachlan in some way, as he had me and Finn, but he dismissed the troll with no more than a cursory glance and a curl of his lip. As I’d discovered from my father, the Sidhe were notoriously classist, and trolls were considered lesser beings. It pissed me off, but I wasn’t going to try to teach the Erlking manners.
The Erlking fixed me with a stare that felt like an icicle piercing my heart. My breath froze in my lungs, and my fight-or-flight instincts urged me to run. My whole body was trembling with the need to flee for my life, sweat breaking out on my forehead and under my arms as my blood turned to pure adrenaline. When I managed to drag in a breath, my lungs wheezed with the effort. I think if Finn hadn’t been holding my arm, I might not have been able to resist my body’s desperate instinct to get away. Not that I could have gone anywhere with the Huntsmen surrounding me.
“Leave her alone!” Finn barked.
The Erlking smiled and looked away from me. The need to run faded instantly, and I knew that he had used some kind of magic against me to upgrade my general fear to full-out terror. I fought to keep myself from shivering as I tried to calm my frantic heart rate. Whatever magic he’d used, I hadn’t sensed it in the air.
The Erlking met my eyes again, but this time he didn’t try any tricks. “It is rare for a person with mortal blood to be able to withstand my gaze. Even a full-blooded Fae can be made to feel the effects, though only under the right circumstances. It seems there is more to you than meets the eye.”
Nightmare Man then proceeded to wink at me, like he and I were in on some great joke together. I swallowed hard. I don’t know how, but I was sure he knew about my affinity with magic. Perhaps it was the magic that had prevented me from surrendering to panic. He was dangerous enough without him knowing my secret.
The Erlking smiled at me. On someone else’s face, that smile probably would have looked friendly. But not on his.
“I am not your enemy, Faeriewalker,” he said. “I can’t in all fairness claim to be your friend, either. However, I will offer you a token of…” He tapped his chin and furrowed his brow as if thinking hard, though I got the feeling he was just putting on a show. “… good will.”
He looked at me expectantly. I still thought keeping my mouth shut around this guy was the smartest move. However, I didn’t want to leave him with the impression that I was a frightened little rabbit, quivering with terror and hoping the big bad wolf wouldn’t eat me.
“Thanks,” I said, and I managed to get some sarcasm in my tone, though I sounded scared even to my own ears. “But no thanks. Somehow, I don’t think accepting tokens from you would be such a hot idea.”
The Erlking laughed, and his Huntsmen echoed him in eerie unison. The Erlking was terrifying, but his Huntsmen were just plain creepy.
I had no clue why what I’d said was so funny, but despite my resolve to appear unaffected, I knew blood was rising to my cheeks. Mockery is something I’ve never taken well.
The laughter stopped as abruptly as it had started. The Erlking picked up his helmet. I hoped that meant he and his buddies were about to leave.
“I’ll give you the token whether you wish it or not,” he said. For the first time, he turned his full attention to Lachlan, who had been so still and quiet I’d almost forgotten he was there.
“Things aren’t always what they seem, now, are they?” the Erlking asked Lachlan with a grin.
To my surprise, Lachlan paled and took a step backward, as if he was thinking of running. The Erlking had suggested that his power of terror didn’t work so well on Fae unless they had some mortal blood in them, which I was sure Lachlan did not. I didn’t even know if trolls were capable of breeding with humans.
Finn was giving Lachlan a funny look, too. “Lachlan?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
I practically jumped out of my skin when the Erlking suddenly revved his bike again. The Huntsmen broke their circle, freeing us as they lined up in formation behind their leader.
“Remove his glamour, Finn of the Daoine Sidhe,” the Erlking said. “Then you will understand why my gaze affected him as it did.”
With another laugh, he put his helmet back on. The roar of the Wild Hunt’s bikes was deafening as they rode away.
* * *
I didn’t exactly feel safe now that the Hunt had left, but I did at least feel capable of turning my attention elsewhere. I looked at Lachlan, who was holding his hands up in front of him in what looked like a defensive gesture as he backed away from Finn.
Magic built in the air, pouring off Finn in waves, and the look on his face was not promising. I had a good guess what was going to happen when Finn cast whatever spell he was about to cast, and it made my stomach do a flip-flop.
Finn released his magic, and it hit Lachlan like a physical blow, knocking him back—and blowing away his glamour. Without his glamour, he should have looked like a monster: a massive, ugly troll with clawed fingers and a mouth full of fangs. Instead, there was a muscular man of middling height with the uptilted eyes of a Fae, but sporting a scraggly beard that said he had a good dose of human blood in him.
One thing was for sure: it was not Lachlan.
Finn reached for me—no doubt to shove me behind him—and the moment he took his eyes off the imposter, the bastard turned tail and ran.
