by K. J. Sutton
Or maybe he was just kidnapped by a sadistic faerie, reason pointed out. Collith didn’t have any visible wounds, but that meant nothing. Maybe Gwyn had indulged the side of herself that Jassin had been so obsessed with. The thought made me feel sick.
Needing to move, I stood up and walked over to the dishwasher. I put my glass inside, next to Collith’s, and pushed the door shut. Collith was still showering, so I walked down the hall and into my room. For a moment, I stood with my back against the door, staring at my neat bed. Emma must’ve been in here—there was no way I’d done that.
Sleep. I should get some sleep.
It felt like my veins were buzzing now. Like I’d touched an electrified wire or just gotten an injection of adrenaline. Shock, I thought faintly, taking off my shirt. Unzipping my jeans, dragging them down, then kicking them off. You’re in shock.
I told myself that didn’t make sense, since Gwyn had killed me hours ago. But as I crawled into bed, my teeth started chattering. I pulled the comforter around me and curled into myself. After a moment, I rolled over, and my gaze landed on the alarm clock. The bright, glowing numbers felt like an anchor. I fought through the wave of panic and held onto them. I watched the shapes change, over and over, until another hour had gone by. The roaring in my ears slowly abated. My breathing calmed.
At that point, Collith had long since finished showering. I left the sweaty bed—I seriously needed to invest in a second set of sheets—and took my towel off the closet door handle.
Another fifteen minutes later, I was returning to my room, water dripping from my hair and streaming down my legs. I put on an oversized T-shirt, dragged a spare blanket off the chair in the corner, and laid down on top of the comforter. Go to sleep. Go to sleep. I squeezed my eyes shut and blocked the events of the day by picturing a bunch of fluffy sheep hopping over a fence.
For what felt like hours, I shifted positions endlessly. When Oliver’s face loomed in my mind, his blue eyes bright with pain, I let out a breath and opened my eyes. Sleeping was overrated, anyway.
I’d just darted another frustrated glance at the clock when something brushed against the wall guarding my mind. I froze in surprise.
The presence made no effort to avoid catching my notice. As soon as I moved closer and got a taste of its power, I knew exactly who it was. Before I could react, she sent a taunting image of the exterior of Cyrus’s house. My eyes widened with realization.
She was outside.
Adrenaline coursed through me again. I wrenched the bedspread aside and grabbed a pair of jeans lying abandoned on the floor. After I’d yanked them on, I opened the top drawer of the nightstand, sending a squeaking sound into the stillness. I removed a hunting knife and the Glock—the blade and bullets were regularly doused in holy water—and tucked both in hiding spots beneath my clothing.
In the entryway, I yanked on my coat and my boots. Then I switched the Glock to the coat pocket, where it would be more accessible. It felt like I could hear the blood in my own veins, rushing like a waterfall. I paused with one hand on the doorknob, double-checking that I hadn’t imagined the presence. It floated there, at the boundary of my mind and the yard itself.
Her proximity to my family sent a jolt of fury through me. I yanked the door open and rushed into the cold to confront her. Later I would blame exhaustion or remnants of shock, but at that moment, it didn’t occur to me to wake or summon anyone.
When I reached the bottom of the porch steps, I slowed and searched those distant trees. It was another dark night, as though even the stars were cowering. The wind had died down and fat, white flakes fell to the earth in silence. My breath billowed through the air. I walked forward a few steps, every sense was on high alert. My fingers twitched, longing to reach for the Glock. Where are you?
“I made you a promise.” Arcaena’s voice cut through the air like a dull knife hacking at raw meat. I turned around, and there she stood, looking more like a ghost than a living thing. She could probably hear the cadence of my heart, loud and uneven, as if I were a frightened rabbit instead of fear itself.
As the faerie came toward me, I saw that she was not beautiful anymore. Her hair was short and slicked back, which made her sharp features all the more prominent. She was too pale and her skin did not possess one wrinkle. It almost looked as if someone had taken the sides of her face and pulled back, stretched it tight over her cheekbones. As usual, her clothing was archaic. She wore no coat, despite the relentless cold, and her dress was made of black lace. Thin, pale toes poked out from beneath the hem.
It took another moment for her words to register. At first, I frowned in confusion, trying to remember what promise she was talking about. It came to me a few seconds later. I’m coming for you, Fortuna Sworn. I will make you scream.
“How refreshing,” I remarked, shoving my hands into my pockets. My knuckles brushed the cool plastic of the Glock. “A faerie that keeps their word.”
Arcaena stopped a few feet away and studied me as if I were an odd, slightly distasteful insect she’d discovered on the ground. “What is it about you that affects them so strongly? I can understand how you have those two idiotic kings wrapped around your finger—every male thinks with his dick first, his intelligence second. But the huntress puzzles me. Why would she break centuries of tradition to spare your life? Do you have a magic cunt?”
The question was rhetorical, most likely, but I answered it anyway. “It has nothing to do with my cunt,” I said flatly, “and everything to do with what I am. My face, my voice, the way I move—it all caters to your perfect idea of beauty. Even the strongest minds find that difficult to resist.”
“How do you know, then, who loves you and not the face they see?” Arcaena questioned.
I kept my face devoid of all expression. “I don’t.”
“What a tragic life. Perhaps it’s a mercy that I’m here to relieve you of it,” she added. Every muscle in my body went rigid and I wrapped my fingers around the handle of the Glock, but Arcaena didn’t move. She was still watching me, staring at me, as if I were something she’d never seen before. “I supposed I should be grateful that incompetent bitch didn’t kill you. Now I get to experience the pleasure of it myself.”
The bitterness in her tone seemed personal, and there was frustration written in her frown. It felt like a light turned on inside me. “You’re the one who paid Gwyn’s fee,” I said slowly. “You put the Wild Hunt on me.”
Lyari and Nuvian had both known it was a possibility, of course, that Arcaena hired Gwyn, but she’d been so careful to stay in her rooms all this time. For every one of Nuvian’s weekly reports, he maintained there was no proof of her involvement. She’s had no visitors. She hasn’t spoken to anyone.
Any word on her missing twin? I would ask next.
This always made Nuvian pause, and the air ripened with suspicion. For some reason, though, he had never questioned me about Ayduin’s disappearance. Nothing.
Now, in response to my accusation, Arcaena smiled. It didn’t look comfortable on her face, as though her mouth had wanted to do something else. Like the bad wolf had been forced to lick Red Riding Hood’s cheek instead of tear into it. “I may be just a mortal now, but I’ve walked this earth for centuries. I know where to find power,” she informed me.
Manic, I thought suddenly. That was how to describe the light in her eyes. “So the cherubim were your doing, too, I take it?” I asked casually, resisting the urge to take a step back.
Arcaena cocked her head, and there was something reptilian about the movement. “Cherubim, you say? They are the mongrels of the underworld. You have made some powerful enemies, little Nightmare, if cherubim are after you. Unfortunately for them, I’m not interested in sharing.”
Standing barefoot in the snow, her lacy dress flapping in the wind, she truly looked like a creature from one of my recent nightmares. In that moment, it was obvious only one of us was going to walk out of this field. Fear pulsed in my throat, but I forced myself to take stock o
f the ancient faerie like she was any other opponent. Arcaena had the ability to lower inhibitions, I knew that. But what else lurked behind that alien face? What other powers did she contain within her sickly-looking skin? I had to be ready, because she could move faster than—
Arcaena came at me like a bullet. All I could do was dive out of the way and try to hit the ground rolling. Snow clung to me as I shot back to my feet. I instinctively lowered myself into a squat, one arm raised toward Arcaena while the other yanked out the Glock. It all happened within two seconds, but even this was too slow—she slammed into me with such force that the air left my lungs. This time, I landed on my spine. A wheezing sound left me, and I stared up at Arcaena, helpless as her hand came down to tear out my throat.
The blow never landed. Instead, there was a horrible squelching sound. Arcaena’s face slackened and her eyes went dull. She crumpled to the ground… and revealed the Seelie King.
Or the faerie who used to be the Seelie King.
It took a few seconds to speak. “Why did you do that?” I asked, sitting up. Adrenaline was still pumping through me.
Laurie allowed Arcaena’s heart to roll off his fingers and hit the ground. When he raised his eyes to mine, internal alarm bells clanged. In all the time I’d known him, Laurie had been careful to wear a mask of civility. Seeing him now, with blood covering his hand and wrist, was a stark reminder of what I’d allowed myself to forget. Yet his voice was pleasant as he answered, “So you wouldn’t have to.”
“You’ve been doing that a lot lately.” I didn’t think before saying the words, and my heart quickened when I realized that I’d just opened a door between us. I stood up, careful not to touch Arcaena’s body, and studiously avoided Laurie’s gaze. We hadn’t truly spoken since the night Gwyn killed me. Since the night Laurie had sacrificed everything to open the tomb and it became impossible to deny his feelings for me.
And my feelings for him. Whatever the hell they were.
Laurie opened his mouth to respond, but I beat him to it. Now was not the time for a heart-to-heart. “I better go now,” I blurted.
Seeing the wariness in my eyes, Laurie smiled. It reminded me of Arcaena’s smile, just a few minutes ago, when she’d had a heart in her chest. I looked down to where she lay at my feet like a wilted flower. I couldn’t bring myself to feel any guilt or sorrow from her death. “Why do you need to leave?” I heard Laurie ask.
“Well, despite that mental image”—I swallowed and nodded at the heart on the ground—“I should probably get some sleep. Believe it or not, dying and coming back to life really takes it out of you.”
The faerie looked at me for a long moment. His silver eyes were too sharp, too perceptive, and I fought to make my breathing steady and deep. If Laurie knew I was trying to make him leave to avoid a conversation, he’d stay and manipulate the truth out of me, just because he could.
“Quite right,” he said finally, looking dissatisfied by what he’d found. Or the lack of it.
Relief rushed through me, but all Laurie saw was a look of concentration on my face as I pulled out my phone. “Oh, will you do something with… that?” I added, glancing down at Arcaena’s body again.
Looking more like himself, Laurie knelt carefully in the grass and put his hand on her arm. “I’ll have her buried next to her twin. Kind of cute, isn’t it?”
I processed Laurie’s question and frowned. No one knew where Ayduin’s body was—no one except whoever had removed it from the bedchamber. The thought made my gaze fly to his, but he was already vanishing with Arcaena.
“You were the one who helped me?” I demanded. At the back of my mind, I had always wondered what happened to Ayduin’s body and the recording of me leaving their rooms. As time went on, I’d assumed it was Lyari’s doing. I should’ve known Laurie was behind it—he was behind everything.
The thought sparked another realization. My gaze snapped back to Laurie’s. “You’re the one who got that chair, aren’t you? The chair in Naevys’s room?”
The faerie just kept fading. “See you soon, Firecracker.”
“Laurie, wait!” Half-faded, he raised his eyebrow in a silent question. But I wasn’t entirely sure why I’d stopped him. Anything I wanted to say would provoke that conversation I didn’t want to have; I knew exactly why Laurie had buried Ayduin for me. It was the same reason he’d opened the tomb and killed Arcaena. I searched for a safe question and eventually mumbled, “I’ve been dying to ask… why are you so afraid of Dracula?”
Laurie’s laugh sounded in my ears like a spirit. “Afraid? I’m not afraid of that self-righteous parasite! I just owe him money from a card game he won back in ’69, and I have no intention of paying up. He almost certainly cheated.”
Dracula didn’t seem like the cheating type to me, but I kept this opinion to myself as Laurie went off to do whatever he usually did while we were apart.
As I walked back toward to the house, I thought I felt phantom lips brush against my cheek.
Chapter Nineteen
Collith was back in the barn.
I stood in my room, staring at those brightened windows. I had a white-knuckled grip on the curtains. It wasn’t sleep depravation that had me in such a foul mood—for once, I felt well-rested. After my long night, which involved not only dying but also watching Arcaena get her heart ripped out, I’d managed to fall asleep for a few hours. A dreamless sleep, free of bad memories or tormented best friends.
Now an entire day had gone by and Collith still hadn’t talked to me. Hadn’t even been in the same room as me. Maybe it felt like a step backward, after I thought we were finally moving forward. But what had I expected, really? For us to date like a normal couple? For our complicated past to stop mattering?
Yeah. Yeah, I had. I still wanted those things.
Resolve turned my heart to stone. Suddenly it didn’t matter if he rejected me, or if he didn’t want me back. I swung away from the window and hurried toward the front door. As I walked past the mud room, movement drew my gaze. The kitten had spotted me, too, and she froze mid-kick. “It’s a litter box, not a Zen garden,” I scolded her, eyeing the mess she’d made on the tiles. I’d clean that later.
Right now, I had an Unseelie King to confront.
It was a windy night. Air howled through the trees, moaned over the frozen ground. I walked across the yard and yanked the barn door open without hesitation. My hair billowed around my face, and I whirled to pull the door shut. A bang resounded through the abrupt silence.
All these weeks, I’d been so curious about what he was doing out here. Despite my frustration, I looked around eagerly.
Collith was standing in the middle of a dim room, surrounded by… a barn.
There were stalls along the wall to his right. To the left was a stairway and what looked like an old tack room. Everything was charred, some walls completely burned away, so it was difficult to know for certain. But there was nothing to hint at how Collith filled his time while he was avoiding the house. Avoiding me. For some reason, this only pissed me off more.
“You shouldn’t be in here—” he started.
“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong,” I said with a downward slash of my hand, cutting him off. My heart had starting turning into flesh again, and I willed it back into stone. “Did Gwyn hurt you? Is that what’s wrong?”
Collith bent and plucked something off the concrete floor. It was a horseshoe, I saw when he straightened. “Can we do this another time?” he asked, turning it over with his fingers.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Even the voice didn’t sound like Collith’s—cold, bored, with a thin layer of fury in between. Suddenly I realized it was the same voice he used when he was talking to Laurie. “No. We can’t,” I said past the lump of panic in my throat.
“Fine.” Without warning, he turned and threw the horseshoe so hard that it embedded in the wall. Then Collith started walking toward me, and I couldn’t stop myself from retreating. “You haven’
t been honest with me, Fortuna. I suppose you’re not obligated to speak truth, seeing as we’re no longer mates, but I should’ve at least been paid the courtesy of knowing your heart lies elsewhere.”
“What are you talking about, Collith?” I demanded.
He scoffed. He didn’t stop approaching and I kept backing away. “Cease the act, please. If you wanted to cause me pain, you’ve accomplished it. I beg for mercy.”
At last, my back slammed into the wall. Collith’s hands flattened on either side of my head. “I have no fucking clue what—” I started.
“Laurelis.” He said the name so vehemently that it was almost a hiss. Never, in all the hours, days, weeks of knowing Collith, had he spoken to me that way. His eyes blazed as he ignored my shock and went on. “Laurelis sacrificed his crown for you. Everything he was, everything he’s ever given a fuck about, he gave up without demanding anything in return. That is not the Laurelis Dondarte I’ve always known. That is not something he would do pursuing a casual fuck or to take revenge on me.”
“You’re asking if he and I are together?” I glared up at him, still trapped between his arms. “After everything we just did to get you back from Gwyn? I thought you were smart, Collith, but maybe you came back from the dead without part of your brain.”
“Don’t resort to your delightful sarcasm, Fortuna. Not right now.”
“Or what?” All at once, I lost my fear of him. I shoved at his chest, and he immediately put space between us. Now I was the one to hunt, stalk, pursue. “What will you do to me, baby? Because I know you don’t have it in you to take what you want.”
Collith stopped, right there in the middle of the barn, and I found myself glaring up at him again. “If that’s true, how did you come to be my wife? If I’m such a spineless coward, how was I the one to claim you, after so many others had failed?” he challenged.
“Ex-wife,” I snapped. The moment I said the words, regret rushed through my veins, followed immediately by exhaustion. I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Collith, I don’t want to fight with you.”
