by Lyra Evans
“How fucking long does that take then?”
Cobalt jerked Niko’s shoulder down with one hand, causing a flare of pain that brought him back to order. He still refused to release Niko’s jaw. “Two days,” he said. His words were softer than Niko expected. Full of breath and something else. Pain? No. Niko refused. “It should have taken only two days, by Landwalking time. But there were complications I had not foreseen. Questions about Oak and Amber, about how they managed to do what they did without anyone noticing. Discussions about the traditions we keep for the Landwalking Rite. And hard inquiries into what the Royal family has been doing for years with their Soul Stones.”
Niko felt the stinging in his eyes again. He didn’t want to stare into Cobalt’s impossibly earnest face. He didn’t want to see those beautiful eyes and those tempting lips. He didn’t want to feel his heart beat harder again at the simple sight of the gorgeous Selkie. He didn’t want to picture all those vivid fantasies, both erotic and domestically intimate. But he did. And though it softened the edge of his anger, it didn’t fill the hole in his chest. Not fully. There was only one way to do that.
“Why was that your problem?”
Cobalt brushed his fingertips over Niko’s cheeks and jaw, not letting him go, but softening his touch. “It wasn’t meant to be. But I was the only witness who had never been completely under Oak’s control. The other Selkies had lived in that state for days and weeks. Though they knew what they were talking about, there was—distrust—of their word. I thought they had been through enough without being made to feel as though they were insane or damaged.” He let his thumb play over Niko’s lips, effectively releasing Nikos face. But Niko didn’t move. “So I spoke for them, where I could.”
Guilt mixed in with Niko’s anger now. He knew a taste of what those Selkies had been through. It was his choice to go undercover, to let Sade do what he pleased with Niko’s body, and still it had scarred him. Still, it had changed him in ways he had not anticipated. In ways he hadn’t thought about much. Despite that, he still felt angry. The betrayal did not dissipate just because Cobalt’s intentions were good.
“Fine. You stayed to be a good man,” Niko conceded. “And did it occur to you to send some kind of message for me?”
Cobalt didn’t answer immediately. He inhaled deeply, perhaps thinking it over. “I did,” he said, and Niko waited for the excuse. “I sent three messages before I realized there was no way you could retrieve them.”
Everything went flat. The mess of Niko’s emotions calmed instantly, like the eye of a storm. “What?”
“I sent messages. But the only delivery system I had access to was the use of cephalopods,” he explained. The memory of Cobalt submerging himself in the ocean to have a chat with an octopus came to Niko’s mind. “I sent them along with notes you would be able to read, but every time, they returned with the note, anxious and distressed.” He lowered his head slightly, eyes closed. “I should have known, should have considered that problem before leaving. The cephalopods can only deliver messages to Selkies, I came to understand. They cannot attune to Fae the way they do us. Which means the creatures I sent to you could never reach you as they could not identify you through the magic I sent.” He shook his head, his pale hair flowing as though in a current above his head. “It is complicated; I do not fully understand it. But by the time I realized, I was stuck into what was going on with Coral and—”
A spike of insecurity and hurt shocked Niko. “About when was that?”
Cobalt sighed, looking deeply pained. “Approximately three and a half weeks after I left you,” he admitted. “It took the entire rest of the time to resolve those problems.” He reached around Niko’s head and fiddled with the cuffs and rope, releasing Niko from his bondage. His arms popped slightly as he eased them down, and Cobalt shifted back to allow Niko free. Sitting himself up as best he could, he reached for his bag and pulled out a fresh set of clothes. He looked away from Cobalt because it was easier, but he was more conflicted than ever inside himself.
“Seems like the kind of person who can handle her own problems,” Niko said, kicking off his boots and peeling off the sheaths on his legs that were once pants.
“She does like to appear as though she has everything under control,” Cobalt answered, buttoning up his own pants. “She hates to ask for help. Rather like you, frankly.” Niko shot him a look, but there was no heat in Cobalt’s expression. “But Coral is reckless and headstrong. She got herself into trouble and rather than ask for help, she blundered on forward and dug herself deeper and deeper. By the time I got word of what she was into, she was already under arrest.”
Niko stilled, pulling off his filthy shirt. “She was arrested? For what?”
Cobalt’s comments from the safe house echoed in the back of Niko’s mind. He’d been very pointed about her relationship with police. She’d backed down when he mentioned her history with them. And her willingness to believe Niko was a killer cop suddenly seemed to make more sense. If she had trouble with the law in Azure’s Court, she could have developed a bias against all officers.
Sitting back to stretch his legs, Cobalt looked beaten. “Mostly theft,” he said. “She’d been caught stealing before, when she was younger, but it was always petty crimes. Small things worth little. But this time, she was captured inside one of the royal vaults.” Cobalt hung his head. “It was packed with banned or controlled artifacts and books relating to the kind of power-building content Oak was so obsessed with.”
Niko tried to think back to every time he’d seen Coral. She was always covered, though not completely. He didn’t think he remembered seeing her wearing anything like the Soul Armour Vermillion Oak had created, but it was possible, he supposed.
“Is she—”
“No,” Cobalt said immediately. “She hasn’t done anything like what Oak did. No evidence she even used the books in there. But one of them was missing. The Guards didn’t locate it upon searching her home or her person. And she wouldn’t talk when they offered her leniency in return for it.”
They had arrived in Maeve’s Court with so little, Cobalt and Coral, that Niko couldn’t imagine Coral carrying an ancient book with banned information with her. And surely Cobalt would have noticed it and returned it immediately. But Coral did seem to imply she’d been forced to come to Maeve’s Court. Perhaps she was anxious to get back to Azure’s Court and retrieve her book. But even with his limited information, something didn’t settle with Niko.
“How did you get her out? It took you two months to do,” Niko said, reminding Cobalt of what he was explaining.
Cobalt nodded. “I searched everywhere I could for the stolen book. I interrogated all her known friends and associates. I talked to her as much as I could. But she wouldn’t tell me where it was either. And I came to be short on time and options. So I went to the Captain of the Guard and pleaded with him.” Cobalt shrugged, scratching at his head. “The punishment for what she did—I couldn’t stand by and let her pay that price. So I made a deal.” He eyed Niko sidelong here, a small smile on his face. “Easier to do with Selkies who aren’t used to picking out loopholes and omissions. It was a simple agreement. They would release her to my custody, and I would see to it she would never be a danger to the Court again.”
“So you left,” Niko said, thinking it over.
“I left,” he said. “Finally. But taking Coral out of the Court wasn’t terribly simple. They hadn’t quite agreed to banishment, but like I said, they are unaccustomed to deals the way Fae make them. It was all I could do. She wasn’t happy about it, but it was the only way. If she returns now, she’ll likely pay with her life. One way or another.”
For a time, Niko didn’t know what to say. His rational mind understood Cobalt’s reasoning—his sister had been in trouble, needed help. But deep inside, hidden away inside the inner-most walls of his heart, was the little boy who’d watched his mother die. Niko had locked that version of himself in a trunk he never opened, along with most
of the memories of his childhood. And that little boy resurfaced now, because it wasn’t the first time Niko had been the lesser option.
In the end, he settled on saying nothing, instead turning his attention to dressing and cleaning himself up. He gathered up his bag, stuffing the dirty and torn clothes into a small side pouch to deal with later, and heaved it onto his back again. The canopy of trees was speckled with light, but the rays filtering down to the forest floor were weaker than they had been. It was getting later in the day, and they still had a ways to go.
“You’ve not said anything,” Cobalt said as Niko pulled out his phone to check their location. The signal was weak, but he identified their approximate progress. The jungle-forest took up most of the land of Maeve’s Court, with the exception of the southern-most tip, where the main city was located, and the shoreline that outlined the Court on three sides. Patches of clear area could be found throughout, where the jungle had given way to flatter lands or bodies of water or more mountainous regions, but Maeve’s Court was still primarily wild with trees and animals.
“We should get back on track,” Niko said by way of response. “We won’t make it to Preston’s property before nightfall, so we should find a relatively safe place to camp for the night.”
Cobalt didn’t respond, so Niko took it as assent and began on the path again, picking through exposed roots and collected vines to move along. He’d gotten lost in the moment before. Exhaustion and shock had left him vulnerable, triggered to a frenzy by the most innocuous comment. And he’d allowed it to happen, allowed himself to snap, then to give in to his carnal desires. He should have remained focused on the goal; too much was at stake not to.
But a few feet into the hike, and Niko realized there was no sound following him. He turned to find Cobalt standing where he always had been, his sharp eye cutting Niko to the core. He shook his head slowly at Niko and began to prowl forward. Niko tensed slightly, uncertain.
“No,” Cobalt said. “I will not accept any more of this.” Niko was rooted to the ground as much as the rubber trees and ferns scattered around him. Cobalt approached like a shark, slow and steady and imposing. “Perhaps you’ve gotten away with keeping yourself out of reach of your previous partners, but you belong to me now. And I demand all of you.”
Niko couldn’t breathe. The boy in his heart wanted to sob, but he wasn’t sure why. Instincts told him to run, to flee like a spooked deer, but pride held him still. He held Cobalt’s cool, crystal gaze as best he could, his mouth set in a line. But it wasn’t Cobalt he was seeing in front of him, and it wasn’t Detective Niko Spruce standing there.
“I am not property,” he said, clipped words hitting the air in punctuated moments. Cobalt stood over him, dominant and imposing but calm and yearning all at once. It was so at odds with the memory playing in Niko’s head he didn’t quite know what to do.
“I never thought so,” Cobalt said. “But you are mine. And I am yours. And I refuse to allow you to keep hiding. You’re clearly still upset. You know my reasons for not returning sooner, but you will not tell me what you think of them.”
Niko swallowed, his throat rough as oak bark. “What’s to say? Your sister was in trouble; you chose to stay and help her,” he said. A muscle in his jaw flexed. He saw, in his mind’s eye, Cobalt gathering him in for a kiss, hand gripping Niko’s hair, bodies tightly pressed. He saw Cobalt waking him in the morning by tying his hands to the bedposts. He felt a rush over his skin as Cobalt curled in behind him, swimming in the ocean. And then he saw Cobalt in his kitchen, chopping cherries to bake for him. And other images—not future but past—spilled out.
“I chose,” Cobalt reiterated, eyes narrowed as he studied Niko’s face. Niko didn’t know what Cobalt would find there. He’d grown skilled at masks, but Cobalt always seemed to see through them. “You think I chose to stay for Coral.” It was not a question. Niko flinched internally, aware of his own insecurity and selfishness. He was a cop; how many times had he put ‘duty’ above other people’s feelings? Uri would certainly have a count. “I did not stay by choice.”
Niko shrugged, breaking eye contact and making to turn away. It was a tell, and Cobalt knew it. “Whatever. She’s your sister. Family. You did your job as brother,” he said, as though brushing it off. But there was no brushing off the stains on your own skin. “I get it. Family comes first.”
Even then, as he spoke the words, they stung him. It was a lie too many people told. A myth as old as the Courts themselves. How many times had Niko witnessed the breakdown of that idea? Family comes first, except if there’s money involved. Family comes first, except if it’s inconvenient. Family comes first, except if your new girlfriend doesn’t want kids.
Nausea overtook him, but he tamped it down. His mouth watered with the urge to vomit, and he swallowed, again and again, until he could swallow whole his old feelings, ancient history that didn’t matter now. But Cobalt wouldn’t let things lie. He grabbed Niko by the wrist, dragging Niko’s body to him, and reached up to cup Niko’s head and jaw, tilted his head just so. Crystal eyes poured into him, filled with the kinds of sentiment with names Niko was still afraid of. He couldn’t acknowledge them. Not yet.
“Family does come first, Niko,” Cobalt said, and Niko felt it as a kick to the kidneys and a punch to the chest at once. But Cobalt pressed his forehead to Niko’s, the tips of their noses brushing just slightly. Niko wanted to leave, to run, to disappear, but he was too weak in the face of that warmth. Even if the words Cobalt spoke were cutting him to the spine. “But I owe Coral.”
Something caught, and Niko’s brain malfunctioned. Eyes open, he stared at nothing, trying to understand. “What?”
Cobalt stroked his jaw with a thumb. “You’re right. You should have come first. But I felt beholden to her. I would not have been able to live with myself if I’d left her there.” He shook his head and kissed Niko deeply, but Niko was still a mess of confusion. When Cobalt pulled away, he seemed gleaming with determination. “Still, like you said, family comes first. And from now on, you always will.”
Chapter 14
Progress through the jungle-forest was slower than Niko would have liked, and it happened largely in silence. That part suited Niko, because in all honesty, he didn’t know much what to say. Having answers to questions he’d been asking for months didn’t somehow undo the suffering he’d experienced. But it was almost as if it was supposed to. Even he felt as though he shouldn’t be upset anymore. But shedding the feeling was harder than he expected. And Cobalt’s promise to always put him first from now on—that he counted Niko family—stirred an entirely new set of conflicting reactions inside him. It had been a very long time since Niko had had anyone to call family.
The deeper they moved into the jungle, the denser the vegetation grew, as though the trees and plants were closing ranks to keep out intruders. Surrounded by so much nature, with the constant sounds of unseen animals echoing around him, Niko certainly felt like an interloper in a sacred place. He’d never had much luck dealing with wild creatures, frankly; Niko was a city boy through and through. He’d grown up in the most urban areas of Maeve’s Court, adapting as best he could to their ever-changing demands. But the dangers of the central city streets were understandable to Niko; they made sense. The dangers of the jungle-forest were an entirely different breed—wild, uncontrollable, unpredictable.
He checked his phone screen again, but the geo-locator pulsed a wider and wider circle every time he checked. The signal was weakening to the point of uselessness now, the phone unable to accurately pinpoint them in the mass of trees and wilderness. He toggled the dial on the signal booster in his bag, but it did little to help narrow down their place on the map. Niko grimaced as he fussed with the cellphone, and Cobalt came to a halt next to him, studying the increasingly useless brick in his hands.
“Perhaps it is time to pull out the compass,” he suggested. Niko rolled his shoulders. He has some wilderness training, certainly. But it was limited to the single
unit of experience he’d gained while at the academy. All officers had to be trained in emergency situations in a variety of environments, and the jungle-forest made up a very large portion of the territory of Maeve’s Court. But only the officers meant to go on and become border guards were trained more extensively in the skills necessary to navigate and survive in the jungle-forest.
“Let’s just give it a minute,” Niko said, shaking his phone and holding it up in the air as though that might actually improve the quality of the connection. It did nothing but make Cobalt scrutinize his actions.
“I’ve little experience with electronics of this sort, but I don’t think that will solve the issue,” he said, his brows furrowed and peaked upward. Niko chewed on his cheek a moment, refusing to look directly at Cobalt. That was apparently the wrong choice. “You don’t know how to use a compass, do you?”
The lightening in his tone irked Niko, as though the realization that Niko wasn’t exceptionally qualified at something was awe-inspiring. Niko frowned.
“I can use a compass,” he shot, dropping his arm. Cobalt seemed not to try very hard to hide his amused smile. Niko glared. “I just—my track record navigating in the wilderness with only a compass and paper map is less than perfect.”
He remembered the final marks on their wilderness exam with a burning frustration. The knowledge that a single unit could drop his near-perfect marks to simply ‘above average’ was a point of contention Niko had with the way the academy’s program was designed. He still managed to be top of his class, but that near-failing grade on the stupid navigation portion of the test would haunt him for the rest of his life. He’d been so angry. After all, what use did a detective have with a compass?
Somewhere, somehow, in the late hours of the day, Sergeant Elm, the academy instructor for rural skills, was having a good laugh now.
