by Amy Sumida
“This way, Your Highness.” Varian steered me away from the leering lord who bowed to me as I escaped. “They are more fascinated with you than I'd expected. I should have known better; it's been thousands of years since an outsider has come to Court. Apathy and boredom are not exclusive to romantic relationships.”
That sounded vaguely insulting, but I decided to let it go since Varian was so obviously angered on my behalf. He deftly dodged the other courtiers who sought to stop us as we passed by. Swiping a glass of blushing liquid from the tray of a servant, he maneuvered us to an empty space along the wall. He handed me the glass and then blocked the room with his body; a clear message that we didn't want to be disturbed.
“Why do they keep making comments about my hair?” I asked before I took a sip.
The beverage was light on my tongue; only there long enough to wet my mouth before dissolving in a delicious effervescence. I took another sip and sighed appreciatively.
“Sidhe are prone to blond or red hair.” He waved his hand toward his auburn braid. “Your color is rare and, as with all rarities, is coveted. The Queen herself favors her consort with the darkest hair and chose him to father her son.”
“Darkest hair,” I murmured as I recalled the Leech. “The man I saw on Earth—the one who I'm told is Terial—has brown hair.”
Varian's lips tightened before he spoke, “So does our prince. That alone is damning evidence, Lady Amara. As I said, the color is rare among my kind.”
I surveyed the room and realized that he was right; there was every shade of blond and auburn, with every color in-between, but only a few heads boasted brunette locks, and those were mostly in pale shades of brown; nearly blond. Only one man had nut-brown hair, and he stood proudly beside the Queen; his coveted tresses loose around his shoulders and making hers look even paler by comparison. But my hair was even darker than his. It seemed that in Danu, it was not the fairest, but the darkest of them all who was admired. At least with the strange and wondrous Sidhe.
“I saw others with dark hair,” I murmured. “They're not here now.”
“Lower castes,” he said simply. “The other races of Danu. But you are not of a lower caste, my lady.”
“I have a feeling that I may prefer them,” I muttered.
“You're right. Enough of this torture.” Varian cast his gaze over the assemblage with a slight sneer. It lightened only when he saw his queen but then deepened again when he met the dark consort's gaze. “Her Majesty has ordered a guest room prepared for your use. I shall escort you there if you wish. You may bathe before dinner.”
“That would be appreciated.” I sighed in relief.
Varian led me out of the throne room—hungry gazes following us—and we glided up a grand, curving staircase of white marble with a silver balustrade. We strode down twisting hallways until I was completely lost, but he seemed perfectly at ease. Finally, Varian went to a door and opened it.
The room was done in soft sage and pale blue; a draped, four-poster bed pushed up against the center of the far wall with a glorious gown of peony-rose silk laying across it. Varian showed me to a bathroom of slick silver and white tiles with a pod-shaped tub and raw-silk towels folded neatly on a shelf. Lights came on as soon as we entered each room but I saw no wall switches.
“I'll return to escort you to dinner,” Varian promised before he left.
As soon as he was gone, I hurried to the bathroom. I eagerly filled the tub, stripped, and climbed into the hot, churning water. I felt as if I'd fallen into another life, not just another world, and I was still trying to get my bearings. It had left me shivering and panicked. Part of me wanted to sneak out of the castle and take my chances with finding my own way back to Earth. But I knew that even if I made it past the guards, I'd only become hopelessly lost in Danu. I couldn't twist my way home. I needed Varian for that.
Varian, who had stayed by my side during the entire trauma of meeting the Eastern Court. I thought back to the way he'd watched me so closely; those striking eyes taking in every nuance of my face as I spoke with the courtiers. The intensity in his gaze was so much different than the rest of them; concerned instead of covetous. His hand had often strayed to my elbow to steady me as if he could sense my unease. Varian's presence had been reassuring and reliable; the only thing that had gotten me through that ordeal with poise instead of pure panic. I didn't know him that well, but at least I'd had a look at his aura, and I knew he wasn't a malicious person. I trusted him more than anyone else in that throne room; including, and especially, the Queen. Anyone who spoke so casually of holding someone against their will—as if they might even enjoy it—was not someone I could trust.
I was deeply regretting my actions. I should have woken Malik, not just left a note. Hell, I shouldn't have left at all. But what was done, was done, and now I had to bide my time until Varian took me home. Hopefully, the Queen would be able to confirm that her son was the Leech and stop him from hurting any more people and stealing any more energy from Earth. If this journey was the catalyst for ending the spread of the Grays, it had been worth it and Malik would understand. But if all of this was for nothing—just a frivolous day spent in Danu, gaining the attention of a queen I'd rather have ignored me—then I'd have no defense against Mal's anger. Frankly, I'd deserve it. I might deserve it either way.
“Damn it all, Malik, I keep screwing this up,” I whispered.
But that was par for the course with me and relationships. I'd never been good at them. Relationships took work; compromise. I was terrible at compromise, and I was also quick to anger; a horrible combination. You'd think I would have picked up some diplomacy from working at the White House. But being diplomatic and being accommodating were two different things. Compromise always ended up feeling like a war to me. Maybe that was what I'd learned from working at the White House.
Queen Elisande's words had affected me more than I'd let on. Was my relationship with Malik doomed? He couldn't stay away from his people forever; especially not his father. What would happen when our relationship progressed? What if he wanted to get married? I didn't even know what a Bleiten marriage ceremony entailed. Would he have to take me to Hell to marry me? Would his father even allow it?
I stared at my shaking hands as they hovered over the bathwater. Would our love cause an actual war? Or could it be the key to peace? I let out my breath. Worry was pointless. We'd already gone too far to back out without heartache, and yet we weren't far enough along to think about the pain we might cause others. All we could do was forge ahead. That is unless I ruined everything.
The hot water fortified me—I'd finally been able to enjoy a bath—and I got out of the tub revived and ready to face another round of Danutian hospitality. The dress I'd been lent was lovely; a wispy affair of silk with a stretchy underdress that clung without being too tight or bunching up. I admired myself in the tall mirror that was set over a vanity table. This was better than hauté couture. Better than anything I'd ever found in Paris. Maybe the Queen would let me keep it.
“Great garlands of holly, Amara!” I snapped at my reflection. “This isn't the time to be concerned about fashion. Snap out of it, you ninny!”
A knock sounded on the door, and I took a deep breath. Up until that morning, I'd thought my greatest adventure would be a journey to meet my relatives on Eden. But there I was in a fairy court—a Danutian court—about to dine with the Queen of the East.
I went to the door and opened it to find one of the most stunning men I'd ever seen standing on the other side.
“Varian?” I asked just to be sure.
He bowed with a little frown as if he wasn't sure what my reaction meant.
Varian's hair shone in bronze waves; falling over his shoulders like liquid metal. A single, thin braid fell from his right temple, adorned with a gold band at the end. His skin shone, freshly scrubbed. The deep V of his tunic showed off a nice portion of that leonine skin and the thin fabric clung to it in places; giving even more hints at the ha
rd body beneath. His legs were encased in tight, black, leather pants and boots; one running into the other smoothly. The outline of muscular thighs made shadows in the leather but none as intriguing as the bulge between his legs.
Look away, Amara, look away!
I blushed and set my stare on his amazing eyes.
“I'll take that as the highest flattery,” Varian said softly.
“Your hair looks good down,” I mumbled.
“Thank you, my lady.” He held up his arm. “Shall we?”
I laid my hand over his forearm and it twitched beneath my fingers. The scent of man, mint, and rosemary hit me and made me breathe in deeper. Damn it; stop breathing so deeply! In fact, just stop breathing!
“Are you well?” Varian asked in concern.
I nodded.
He paused. “Are you... breathing?”
I gasped for air and then laughed. “Sorry; I'm a little nervous.”
Varian stared at me thoughtfully. “You were right to be cross with me earlier. I gave you my word that I would protect you and see you home safely... directly after your conversation with Her Majesty, and my queen made an oathbreaker of me.” His jaw clenched in a way that reminded me of Malik. “I couldn't oppose her before the Court, but I should have taken you home as soon as we were alone. If you wish it, I will twist the path for you now and see you safely back to Earth.”
“You will?” I asked in surprise.
“I told you that I always keep my vows, and then I broke the one I made to you,” he said in a low, solemn voice. “I must make amends.”
“But won't the Queen be upset with you?”
His gaze flickered. “She will, but she will also understand. She knows who her champion is.”
The words seemed odd, but I wasn't about to look a gift horse, or gift champion, in the mouth.
“Then, yes; I would dearly love to go home.”
“As you wish, Lady Amara.” Varian backed up only to open his arms to me.
I stepped into his embrace and his arms settled around me tightly. Varian's heart beat steadily against my temple, and mine responded; racing faster. I closed my eyes and willed away my reaction to him. I was going home to Malik; I'd be with him soon. And then I could put this strange experience behind me. If all went well, I'd never see Varian again.
The thought made my heart pound even more frantically. I ignored it, but Varian must have felt it. He lowered his head protectively over mine and lifted a hand to curve around my face.
“Do not worry, Lady Amara; I won't let you go,” Varian's new vow made things shiver in my chest.
Then the world was twisting away from me again, and the cold of a D.C. evening hit me. I shivered in earnest, and Varian rubbed my bare arms.
“I should have fetched your coat for you,” he murmured.
“I'll be—”
A roar cut off my words and the street shook as something enormous landed behind me. Varian's gaze lifted over my shoulder and his head cocked; barely a reaction to either the sound or the sight of what was behind us. That was impressive considering who it was. And I was fairly certain that he was in his battleform too.
Malik.
I started to turn to face him, but I was torn away from Varian suddenly and pushed roughly aside as Malik lifted the Danutian knight off his feet with one clawed hand.
“Malik, stop!” I shouted.
Varian twisted in his grip, disappeared, and reappeared a foot away. “Calm yourself, Bleiten. Your woman is safe. Look at her; no mischief has been done.”
“Leave now!” Malik growled; his voice guttural. “Or I will fucking kill you.”
“Will you be all right if I leave you with him?” Varian asked me.
“Leave!” Malik roared.
“I'm fine; he won't hurt me,” I assured Varian. “Please just go.”
Varian bowed to me, “Farewell, Lady Amara.”
“Goodbye, Sir Varian.”
Varian turned and disappeared as he did.
“Malik, I—”
Malik's massive talons curved around my waist, pulled me against his chest, and held me tightly as he leaped into the air. His wings spread and pounded us upward until he landed on the roof of my townhouse. I trembled against his wide chest; staring at the detailed tattoo of a burning crown that was worked into his skin there. It was his connection to his father and proof of his claim to the throne of Hell. Malik would rule Hell one day; if his people accepted him. Would I be the reason they didn't?
“Why?” Malik snarled as he held me away from him.
Both of his taloned hands were around my waist, and he shook me slightly. He was in full battleform and completely naked. Two sets of horns curved back from his face; one from the top of his cheekbones and one from his temples. His hair was wild and sparking with power and his wings twitched furiously. I tried to swallow the hard lump in my throat as I looked over his massive body; he was steaming the air with his heat. I wasn't cold anymore, but I would have traded the warmth for Malik's calm. This was terrifying. I'd been so certain that he'd never hurt me, but now, staring up into his burning eyes, I wasn't so sure.
“I couldn't take you with me,” I stuttered. “Varian refused to bring a bleiten into Danu, and the Queen—”
Malik growled; a predator's sound. He bared his canines at me as one taloned hand lifted and closed around my throat. His gaze took in the gown.
“From him?” Malik's hand moved to the silk as if he'd tear the dress off me.
“Don't!” I held up my hands. “I'll take it off. I'll take it off!”
Malik narrowed his eyes as I hurriedly undid the buttons at the side. With a push, the dress slid free and puddled on the cement roof. He stared at me; looking over my body without any hint of arousal. It left me far colder than the weather had.
“You left me,” he was barely getting the words past his clenched teeth.
Oh, sweet Supes; he was losing himself to his bloodlust. I had to bring him down. I had to do something to break through his fury.
“Gone!” Malik roared. “Just gone!”
“Malik,” I said gently. “I'm here; it's all right.”
Malik yanked me back against his chest and surrounded me with a furious embrace. But his whole body shook, and I knew he could lose control at any second. What would happen then? Would he crush me without meaning to? Claw me open? I'd survive, but I wasn't looking forward to the pain. And Malik would never forgive himself. It would be the end of us.
I sent calming amethyst wavelengths into Malik's aura, but the color bounced off his cinnabar fury. Bounced off! I'd never had that happen to me before. It seemed as if it wasn't just Malik's body that became stronger in his battleform, it was also his aura. I tried again; this time I didn't invade, I simply attempted to touch the colors already there and twist them into more rational shades. It was like touching fire; every attempt I made was burned away. If the situation hadn't been so dire, I would have been fascinated. But it was dire; more so now that I'd tried to touch his aura. Malik sensed what I'd done and had grown even angrier.
Think, Amara! Do something!
I reached up and stroked his cheek tenderly, but that made Malik snarl and chomp at the air. I trailed my hand down his throat; down his chest. Then my gaze lowered. His genitals hung heavy between his legs; larger than usual. Daunting but not deadly. I slipped my hand down and wrapped it around his girth.
Malik's whole body jerked and his burning gaze—more crimson than amethyst—shot down to my face. His mouth opened but this time it was in a rugged pant instead of a fierce warning. His talons loosened, and I slipped down between his thighs. The beast of my lover stared down at me; his claws hovering over my head in hesitation and his eyes simmering down to maroon.
“I love you, Mal,” I whispered to him and then bent to kiss him.
His cock twitched to life immediately; hardening into a thick column. Malik groaned. I took the tip in my mouth, relieved when it fit comfortably. His claws fell to his thighs and hung
there loosely. I slid my mouth further down the shaft and started working him determinedly. He was so big that using a hand was a necessity. But soon, his flesh was slick and sliding easily over my tongue, and I was moaning with pleasure. The scent of his skin was thicker than usual; darker and sweeter. The taste and feel of him in my mouth were intoxicating.
“Amara,” Malik groaned as his clawed hand laid upon my head gently. “Oh, fuck! Stop, Amara! You don't know what you're doing.”
“I'm loving you,” I paused to say. “I love you in both of your forms, Malik. Even when you're mad at me. Let me prove it.”
“No, Amara—” Malik groaned; his whole body shaking.
I kept going, and when I started massaging his heavy balls, he roared and yanked me upward. My underwear was torn away in a moment, and then he had me by the thighs; lifting me up and over his erection. His eyes were wild; his lips bloody where he'd bitten himself.
