“It doesn’t matter what they’re doing these days.” His deep, velvety voice had an edge of steel to it. “They’re unnatural. They’re responsible for everything that happened during the apocalypse. Millions of unnecessary deaths just to appease their egos. Men, women, children slaughtered across the globe. The angels—and worse, the horsemen—are the face of pure evil. They are death itself, and they must answer for their crimes.”
I gripped the wineglass, ready to snap it. “Fine. So what’s the mission? Hunt some angels?”
“Yes. A few cohorts of angels have returned to Earth. They’re trying to learn to live as humans, to blend in. As you know, angels believe that humans are beasts. The angels have come to Earth to consort with humans in their most primitive, bestial state.”
“In their most bestial state? What does that mean, exactly?” I asked.
“The task requires that you figure that out.”
“And why, exactly, are they trying to live like primitive humans?”
“We think they’re spies, possibly planning another apocalyptic assault on Earth. Except this time, they’re disguising themselves. They’ve hidden their wings. They look like humans. They’re trying to learn to behave like humans. We have to ferret them out before we find ourselves facing another apocalypse.”
“If they’re disguised, then how do you suggest that I pick out the humans from the angels?” I asked.
Ruadan lifted his hand. Purple light flickered between his fingertips, illuminating the beautiful planes of his face. “You know what happens if an angel indulges in earthly pleasure.”
“He turns into a demon.” A smile curled my lips. “I get it. I hit them with lust magic. The angels turn into demons. I kill them. Does that pretty much summarize it?”
“It’s as simple as that. And I know you can kill. The hard part will be controlling the magic.”
“But I still don’t get a lumen stone?”
“Not until you become a knight. For now, you’re considered a flight risk.”
“Fine. So how do I distill this magical power?”
Ruadan pulled one of his swords off the wall. “We’re leaving the Institute for this one. I don’t want Maddan to know what we’re planning.”
He sheathed his sword, then turned his back to me. His magic rippled over my skin, and I stared as a portal opened in the floor—whirling dark waters flickered like starlight.
He turned to face me, and he gestured to the portal.
I jumped in, and the icy water rushed over my skin. As I sank deeper, it occurred to me that I didn’t even ask him where we were going. I’d just simply jumped. Was I actually starting to trust him?
Ruadan’s body plunged into the portal next to me, and we continued to sink, until at last, thin rays of moonlight pierced the water’s surface. As my lungs burned, I kicked my legs, hurtling up toward the surface, faster and faster.
Then, the lip of a fountain came into view. I grasped on and hoisted myself up, catching my breath. Above me, water spilled from the mouth of a stone woman, splashing over the dark cobblestones. The air smelled intoxicating, heavy with sandalwood and jasmine.
Ruadan was already climbing from the fountain, his dark clothing dripping onto the cobblestones. “Lilinor, the vampire realm. We’re safe. My half-brother Caine rules here with the king.”
Ruadan’s black shirt clung to my body like a second skin as I pulled myself over the lip of the fountain. We were standing on a narrow lane, where moonflowers and gardenias climbed the walls of rickety timber-framed buildings.
My gaze roamed upward, all the way to a crooked Gothic castle that loomed over the city. Amber lights burned in its narrow windows.
“Are we going up to that castle?” I asked.
Ruadan’s damp, pale hair hung over his shoulders. “We don’t need to go that far. We’re going to practice in my friend’s garden. It’s nearby.”
He began walking over the cobbles, and I followed behind him. We were heading for a grand house—it looked like a gabled Tudor mansion, with crisscrossing wood over white walls.
As we stood before the wooden door, Ruadan lifted the silver knocker, shaped like a hand. He knocked three times.
The clacking of footfalls penetrated the door. Then, it swung open. A buxom woman stood in the doorway, her dark hair piled high on her head. She wore a long lace gown. “Well if it isn’t my favorite fae prince!”
Chapter 21
I blinked at him. “Prince?” Prince of what?
“Get the hells inside,” she said. Her accent was American—Southern, in fact. “I need to hang a damn towel over that fountain so you don’t trail all that water inside next time. Ruining my good hardwood floors with all that portal water.”
She opened the door wide into a hall of dark wood, with an enormous stone fireplace burning bright.
Ruadan gave a slight bow. “We were hoping to use—”
“Shhhhh.” The woman lifted a finger to her lips. “Where are your manners? From a royal family like you are, and you don’t even know how to introduce a woman. No wonder you can’t find yourself a damn wife.” She turned her sharp, dark eyes to me. “I don’t suppose you’re his lover. Our grand fae prince here never has a lady friend.”
“No, ma’am,” I said. I had no idea where the ma’am came from. It just came out.
She stuck her finger in Ruadan’s chest. “You’re such a gods-damn fool, a man looking like you, warm-blooded man like you, can’t find yourself a damn lady friend. Brooding all over the place, vowing silence, scaring everyone away with all your damn shadows. Making the lights flicker out when you walk into a room. No sensible lady is gonna want to go on a date with you if you keep making lights flicker out. They’ll be tripping all over the place, running into walls, burning their pancakes. Can’t see a damn thing when you’re around with your moods.”
Ruadan opened his mouth again to speak, but she silenced him with another jab to his chest.
“Making the air all cold with your tempers. At least you’re not doing that stupid vow of silence anymore. Good. You know what won’t help you kill people? Being silent. Gets you nowhere. Doesn’t help you get a lady friend either.”
Her sharp eyes turned to me, and she looked me up and down, letting out a low whistle. Then, to my horror, she stepped closer and poked at one of my breasts. “Good solid girl like this, good ample bosoms that a man could lay his head on at night, and she’s not your lover. Gods-damned fool. Grown man like you, making lights flicker off. Six hundred years, still not remarried. Damn shame.”
At last, her tirade seemed to have died out, and Ruadan gestured to me. “Elise, this is—”
She raised her hands. “Now I know you were married before, but that was a long damn time ago. Time to move on.”
I stared at Ruadan. Well, I was certainly learning more about him now than I had in weeks of living with him. A prince, previously married.
And most shocking of all—he actually had friends.
Still, this last bit about his former wife seemed to have irked him, and a coolness fell over the room—an actual chill that raised goosebumps on my skin.
“Quit making my living room cold,” shouted Elise. “What’s the matter with you? Fool. That’s what happens when you spend too much time celibate. Lose your temper over every damn thing, drive up everyone’s heating bill with the cold air from your magic. No one wants to pay for that. No wonder you’re still single.”
Ruadan’s body had stiffened, and he looked as if he were trying to restrain himself. Then, in a voice that was a little too smooth to be calm, he said, “This is my novice, Arianna, from London’s Institute of the Shadow Fae. Arianna, this is Elise. She likes to go by Grandmother Elise. She’s an old and dear friend.”
“Grandmother?” I asked. “You don’t…you don’t look old enough to be a grandmother.”
“I am two hundred seventy-eight years old. I have sired six generations of offspring.” She beamed, apparently pleased with the introduction. When
she smiled, her fangs glinted in the candlelight.
Ruadan narrowed his eyes at her windows. “You need to get light-blocking curtains on these windows, Elise. I’ve told you that before. You know what will happen if the sun rises and you’ve fallen asleep in the living room.”
“Two hundred seventy-eight years old, and do you know how many times I’ve fallen asleep in the living room? Not once. Not once,” she repeated.
“I’m coming back with curtains,” he said, his voice a sharp command. “And I’m putting them up. Do not question me on this, Elise.”
She rolled her eyes. “The prince makes an official decree. But you’d better not come in here with cheap curtains. Silk or nothing. Now what are y’all doing here? You need something to drink? I’ve got strawberry daiquiris, heavy on the rum.”
“Yes.” I smiled.
“No,” Ruadan cut in. “But thank you. We’re just hoping to borrow your orchard for some practice.”
“You want to practice some of that Shadow Fae magic?” She turned and began walking through the hall, heading for an oak door at the back.
We followed her.
“Now what kind of magic are you going to be practicing, just so I know?” she asked. “You’re not going to be blowing up my apple trees, are you? I take very good care of my apple trees.”
“No, Grandma Elise. Just lust magic.” He said this like it was no big deal. In the same tone that one might discuss having a ham sandwich for lunch. Oh, you know, just going out into your garden to magically channel sexual arousal all over your plants. Nothing awkward.
She whirled, arching an eyebrow at Ruadan. “Grown man like you with lust magic. No wife. It’s a gods-damned waste is what it is. You know all that pent-up sexual energy is no good for you. Human men blow themselves up over a thing like that. It’s not natural. Gets your insides all clogged up and angry. Vow of celibacy. Making you all crazy, making the rooms go cold.” She jabbed him in the shoulder. “People need to get themselves some hibbly jibbly.”
She yanked the door open, glaring intensely at both of us with this hibbly jibbly directive.
When we stepped outside, the night wind whispered over my wet skin, making me shiver. I breathed in the powerful scent of apples. The air here felt moist and heavy.
Grandma Elise closed the door behind us.
We moved deeper into the garden—if it could even be called a garden. It was more a large, walled orchard. A stone bench sat in the center of it all, engraved with vines.
“You never told me you were a prince.” I folded my arms. “Prince of what, exactly?”
His violet eyes pierced the darkness. After a long moment, he finally answered, “Emain.”
I breathed in deeply. “So it is real. The place I dream about. The place in the library book.”
“It’s real.” The intoxicating breeze of Lilinor lifted strands of his blond hair. Apart from that, he’d gone completely still, shadows thickening around him. “It’s where the Shadow Fae High Council resides. It’s where Baleros trained me, and where Grand Master Savus once lived.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. I’d never known a bloody thing about Baleros’s past. Of course I hadn’t. Knowledge is power. “Emain? That’s where Baleros is from? That’s where he mentored you?”
“A legion of Shadow Fae protects Emain. It’s part of our mission to keep the land secret, to convince everyone it’s a myth. The realm is home to precious metals that demons would love to exploit. The Shadow Fae of Emain are some of the fiercest assassins in the world, and our training is harsher than most. In our youth, we scale mountains and swim across oceans—all for the purpose of training to protect the realm. We sacrifice to the Old Gods, but our mission is also to assassinate enemies of Emain. We kill demon and fae invaders and those we believe are planning attacks on the city.”
I moved closer to him, desperate to learn more. The night air rushed over me. I kicked off my shoes, and the grass felt soft under my feet.
But I wasn’t relaxing. I was hunting for information on Baleros, and I was going after this knowledge like a foxhound scenting blood. “How did Baleros end up in London? Why did he leave Emain?”
“You’re not going to let me get away with silence, are you?”
“You bet your life I won’t.” My fingers tightened into fists. I needed to know the truth about all of this.
“Baleros was my mentor in Emain hundreds of years ago, when I was young. He left Emain three centuries ago. He joined the London Institute, but he chafed against the authority of Grand Master Savus. Baleros fled the Institute in the 1800s, and he began trafficking stolen magical items. After the apocalypse, it wasn’t enough for him. Fifteen years ago, he returned to Emain and tried to seize control of the realm. To become king. He slaughtered Queen Macha. Shot her through with iron arrows, burnt her body until nothing was recognizable except her crown.” Shadows darkened his eyes, and the temperature around us cooled until my breath frosted in front of my face.
I’d moved closer to Ruadan, and his face had taken on a haunted quality. My chest ached for him, and I had the strongest urge to wrap my arms around him. “Queen Macha—your mother?”
“Yes. I was the one who found her in her room. But when Baleros realized none of the warriors supported his coup, he fled Emain. I vowed silence until I achieved his death. I joined the London Institute. Baleros was top of my kill list. But I could never track him, and now, I know why. The goddess of flames protects him. The ancient enemy of my grandfather.”
I sucked in a deep breath. “And while you were hunting Baleros, he was keeping me below ground as a slave, less than a mile away from the Institute.” I swallowed hard. “What was your mother like, before she died?”
“Strong. A warrior. She was small, but powerful. She rode a horse faster than anyone in the kingdom. She spoke sixteen languages and swore like a gutter tramp.” He frowned. “No offense.”
“I actually didn’t take offense until you said ‘no offense.’ Anyway, your mum sounds brilliant.” I hugged myself, chilly in my damp dress. “Why are you telling me about Emain if it’s such a deep secret?”
“Because I know you’ll keep it.”
“I will.” The idea that he trusted me sparked a bit of warmth inside. I fought the urge to ask him about his wife. Curiosity burned in me, but I’d seen how he reacted to Grandma Elise, driving up her heating bill with his coldness.
Chapter 22
“You will become a knight,” Ruadan said. “The Old Gods desire it. You will live. And you will help me find Baleros. But first, you have to pass tomorrow’s trial. You’ll need to identify the angels and kill each one of them.” He held out his palm, and a silver ring gleamed in his hand. It glowed faintly with violet light. “I’ve imbued this with my magic. You’ll need to learn to channel it.”
I picked up the ring from his palm and slid it onto my finger. As I did, a jolt of heat raced through my blood. I became acutely aware of Ruadan’s T-shirt clinging to my body, my breasts peaking in the cold breeze. My mind flashed with a vivid memory of my dream about Ruadan. I wanted him to lose control of himself, to pin me up against a tree. Already, the blood was rushing out of my head and making it hard for me to think.
“You need to control it.” His magic licked at my skin, stroking up the back of my spine like a silky fingertip, an invisible caress. “Not the other way around.”
My pulse raced, my breathing quickening. “I’m perfectly in control.” I stared at my fingertips, which now flickered with violet light. Without realizing what I was doing, I reached for Ruadan’s sodden shirt. I pulled him close, and he stared down at me. He felt warm. I slid my hand up his powerful torso.
“Control it.” His voice was a blade wrapped in silk, and it only made me want to touch him more.
I rested my head against his muscled chest, looking up at his perfect face. My fingers slid inside the hem of his shirt, over his muscled abs, and I heard him gasp, his muscles tensing. His skin was soft, with pure steel underneath
. I ran my hand higher up his chest, feeling his muscles. He leaned down, his breath warming the shell of my ear. He wasn’t pushing me away.
Fifteen years he’d been with London’s Institute. Fifteen years since he’d had sex. He must be desperate for it.
When I closed my eyes, the scent of apples grew stronger. A vision rose in my mind of an orchard on a rocky slope—Emain. Someone had decorated the tree branches with candles that flickered in the darkness like stars, and a distant drum beat through my blood. I stalked through the trees, hunting…
Ruadan pulled my hand off his body, his grip like iron on my fingers.
I gritted my teeth, trying to gain control of myself. “What the hells was that vision?”
“What vision?” he asked.
“It was Emain, with candles in the trees, and a drumbeat.”
A silence stretched out between us. “I think you saw one of my memories. It must be carried by the magic I gave you.”
“You were hunting something.”
“A woman. It was a fertility festival.”
I shook my head, willing my body to cool down. “Right. You know most people just get drunk and watch TV, but I do like the candles and drums. I take it the Emain Shadow Fae were not celibate?”
“Fortunately, no.”
It took me a moment to realize that I’d grabbed onto his shirt again and pulled him close, arching my neck to look up at him. Gods, I wanted to be there in Emain for that festival, to be hunted by Ruadan, pulled down in the dewy grass. I wanted Ruadan’s powerful hands to rip my clothes off while I writhed beneath him…
Through our damp clothes, his body warmed mine. I clenched my fists, still clutching his shirt, and I looked up into his eyes. He gripped my waist once more, and his heated gaze burned right into me. I felt an overwhelming urge to pull my wet T-shirt up higher. Darkness slid through his eyes as my arousal started to affect him, too. Even if he was supposed to be celibate, the incubus in him was responding.
When the chilly wind hit my thighs, raising goosebumps, I realized that I actually had inched the shirt up to my waist.
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