Rogue’s comment that he had resources outside himself niggled at me. Why had that had to be a future lesson? If ever I needed resources outside myself, now would be an ideal time to discover them. I wondered again about the Black Dog. Was he a source of power for Rogue, along with the curse of his existence? Did Titania hold that aspect in thrall, also? If indeed that was what was going on. It seemed that, from what he’d told me, that elemental aspect of himself couldn’t be contained or controlled, by anyone at all. Except that it listened to me.
Something to exploit, perhaps.
What I didn’t get was, that first time, my natural energy had come back fairly quickly and in full measure. Why did I feel as if something were constantly draining me?
I eyed the staff, now safely in Larch’s keeping. That thing could very well be it. Yet it was my most valuable tool for the time being. What else did I have? The vial of dragon’s blood. I’d given the egg back to Larch. After seeing how tenderly the dragon had treated it, I felt wrong thinking of it as an anti-magic hand grenade.
If I thought to exploit the Black Dog, then I should consider my own elemental beastie. The itching throb in my temple had subsided, and her ghostly presence in my heart had quieted. Very likely because I’d been using so little magic. A heartening thought for me—I could retire somewhere quiet, use no magic and perhaps escape the fate in store for me that way.
It seemed impossible to contemplate, a life without magic. Ironic, since I’d lived most of my life without it. But I’d had work. Perhaps I could study magic, tucked away in some tower, and grow learned and eccentric.
The image held a certain appeal.
At any rate, waking my inner big cat seemed prudent, so I began making tiny, very low-energy wishes, like running water through the pipes, priming the pump. I changed bits of gravel into popcorn, just for the whimsy. Larch’s tunic went from red to polka-dotted—and back again when he scowled at me. I nursed my anger, which she seemed to feed on best, using it to heat the magic. I imagined throttling Titania’s flower-stem of a throat, and the cat purred in agreement.
As the afternoon waxed on, several conveyances passed overhead. A couple of dragons went by and then some sort of fancy flying coach. Where could a sorceress get one of those? Then the ever-alert Larch moved us farther off the trail, hiding us just in time for a laughing party of noble fae to ride past without seeing us.
“Big party at Bitch Palace?” I wondered out loud.
“It is All Hallows’ Eve,” Larch observed. “Titania often performs rituals when the Veil is thin.”
“It’s Halloween?” I wanted to smack him. “And you didn’t think that was important to mention before now?”
“My lady sorceress has heard the Wild Hunt growing louder each night. As you are not a fool, I presumed you knew such a simple thing.”
“What kind of rituals?”
He shifted. Looked away. “Horrible ones,” he whispered. And refused to say more.
I waited with increasing impatience, which at least served to fuel the cat, who paced to match my internal restlessness. The sun began to set, and the howling neigh of horses echoed on the wind.
At last, a glowing light came down the narrow path, which so many had gone up. Carrying a little lantern, Athena bounced along, curls blowing in the wind, skipping without a care in the world.
I grabbed her in my excitement and relief. “Thank goodness! What happened? Where are Starling and Hercules? Tell me everything!”
“Geez, Gwynn, I will if you’ll stop talking long enough.”
“Sorry.”
“Understandable. So, it turns out that it’s All Hallows’ Eve, which is a stroke of great good luck.”
“So, I’ve been recently informed.” Apparently not everyone knew. I threw a glare at Larch, who steadfastly fed the fire. “Why is it good luck?”
“Titania is hosting a costume ball. Full masquerade. They swept me and Starling right into the guest suites without a single question.”
“And Fergus.”
She sighed. “Subterfuge is not his forte. Apparently he stormed the gates and is now languishing in a cell.”
I rubbed my temple. “I suppose we’ll have to rescue him now.”
“We made a plan. Darling Hercules found him and will set him loose in case we need his heroic assistance.”
“Very nice.”
“So, you just need to dress up and come to the ball. Make it a good costume, so she won’t recognize you. But there will be so many new faces and outlandish costumes there that Titania is highly unlikely to see you talking to Rogue. Get a dance with him, if you can—that’s your best bet.”
“Did Starling talk to him?”
A shadow dimmed her pixie face. “She did. Acted like he had no idea who she was. No trace of his normal self. He might be lost to her. You’ll know when you see him, but we want you to brace yourself for the possibility that he’s gone, okay? He may never again be the fae he was.”
My heart fell through my belly at the thought. All of Rogue’s brilliance, mischief and sensuality snuffed out, leaving only Titania’s plaything behind.
“Did she give him the earrings?”
“Of course, but he barely paid attention, just commented that they were lovely and gave her a gift in return—usual protocol.”
I tensed. Afraid to hope. “What gift?”
She looked at me oddly. “A piece of jewelry. Nothing of note.”
“Describe it.”
“A little gold thing. Kind of shaped like this.” She held up her thumb and forefinger in a U-shape, and a sob of emotion escaped me. “What?” she demanded. “Is that a bad or good sound?”
I wrapped my arms around my ribs, uncertain myself of what feelings poured through me. “It’s good. I think it’s good.”
She grinned at me. “Two pieces of good news. That means number three will be our lucky charm. Now get dressed. We have a ball to go to.”
* * *
I went all out. Style-wise, not magic-wise. With Athena’s coaching, I dressed myself entirely in black, with a dark green sash at my waist. I created a hoop and petticoats of matching green. Then studded the gleaming black overskirt with green silk bows that held the fabric up in swoops. I was the anti-Scarlett.
The neckline hung seductively over my shoulders and I changed my hair to a deep green that matched my eyes. Athena piled it high on my head in an elaborate style, using pins I wished up for her from the bits of gravel and popcorn.
I gave myself above-the-elbow black satin gloves, something Athena hadn’t seen before. We debated over the actual mask. Seemed tradition dictated that one wore an animal, insect or flower face. I decided to take a risk and wished up a mask worthy of Venetian Carnivale. Both Athena and Larch were taken aback by it, but agreed that it would be exotic and in keeping with the competition for the unusual.
With reluctance, I left the staff behind. It might come in handy, but with my reserves so depleted, I couldn’t really afford the bite it took out of me. Also, if the worst happened, letting Titania get her multi-jointed paws on it would be a bad idea.
I turned my shoes into Keens for the trudge up the hill, Athena lighting my way and diligently skipping. When we crested the top, we entered a wide, polished glass courtyard. Torches ringed the low walls and fae guards in uniform stood at even intervals, here and on the walls. As one, they saluted me, swords flashing silver.
Fergus had stormed this setup? I shook my head to myself. And changed my shoes into something prettier. Glass slippers were really tempting but so impractical.
Inside, I was ushered to the ballroom by a page, who also swept my cloak away and asked for my name. Athena gave me an imperceptible shake of her head, as if I needed it, and I told him to announce me as Lady Mysteriouso, with a wink.
As Cinderellaesque as this all felt—though I liked that I’d been my own goddamned fairy godmother—if I’d thought the room would come to a halt, gasping at my loveliness while I posed at the top of the stairs, I
was dead wrong.
I don’t think anyone could even hear the announcement of my arrival over the sweeping music and the roar of conversation.
Besides, another party rustled up behind me, all dressed as lavender lizards, which creeped me out enough that I scooted out of the way like a golfer who’d lingered too long at the tee. Unfortunately, my haste plunged me into the crowd before I scanned the room for Rogue.
“What is he dressed as?” I hissed at Athena, who cupped her hand to her ear. I had to shout the question from close quarters, only to be disappointed by her palms-up gesture showing she had no clue.
A fae lady dressed in bronze wearing a mask shaped as a lion crashed into me, giggling wildly. I tried to sidestep her, but the white cat with a baby lion mask, yanked along on her leash brought me up short. Darling Hercules sent me a pointed complaint that none of this was in our original bargain. I sent him a rush of affection and gratitude, promising a grander role for him soon.
“Goliath,” he replied.
Heaven help me, I agreed on the spot.
Starling nearly put my eye out with one of the spiky mane things on her mask when she embraced me and shouted in my ear to follow her. Taking my hand, she dragged me through the spinning dancers, threading us through the tumultuous crowd with easy expertise. Starling in her element—who knew?
And then.
There he was.
I stopped, breath harsh in my throat, barely an arm’s length from where Rogue lounged against a wall, head turned away to watch the dancers. He wore all black, of course, but tight, molded to his long, lean body like a loving glove. When he turned to look my way, as if sensing my regard, a mask with the face of the Black Dog stared at me.
Only the eyes were cobalt blue instead of amber.
Did he recognize me? I couldn’t tell. His gaze dropped to my exposed cleavage, drifted down to survey the rest of me and rose again with easy lust. Those dianthus-edged lips curved in a sensuous smile that could have been for any woman. But the look floored me. Arousal flooded me, my nipples hardening and my vulva spiking with a sudden ache as the tender tissues surged turgid with blood. With it, came the magic.
Oh my Lord Rogue. He sure did it for me like no one else.
He held out an elegant long-fingered hand and I took it. Leading me onto the dance floor, he slipped a familiar arm around my waist and pulled me close, pressed tight against him so my nipples chafed against the dress as we danced.
And danced and danced.
Expertly, he waltzed me around the dance floor, the throb of the music matching the three-four beat of his heart, which thundered through me, a foghorn penetrating the night. I sent a brief, heartfelt thank-you to Fafnir, ironically enough, for teaching me the steps, then gave myself up to Rogue’s embrace.
He stared into my eyes through our masks, never looking away, even as we spun in circles. I was hot and wet just from this much, but now I knew to embrace it, pulling the magic to me with the sweet desire. He smiled, a half twist of the lips on the left side of his face, as if he could feel what I did, but otherwise...
Otherwise, there was no indication that he knew me at all.
Except the cord between us. The moment he touched me, it reeled in tight, gluing me to his arms. It felt like home, being with him again, and I confess that for a while I simply reveled in it.
Then it occurred to me that he held me with both hands, our bodies pressed together, in violation of our agreement. Just as with all the agreements he’d broken. I imagined those just added layers to Titania’s hold on him.
I reached out to find his thoughts and met a blank wall. No, not blank. A thick, ropy and oily barrier. The now-unmistakable stamp of Titania’s interference. I searched Rogue’s eyes, looking for some hint of the man I knew inside.
Nothing nothing nothing.
If he hadn’t given Starling that horseshoe ornament, I would have despaired in that moment.
“Rogue?” I had to say it loudly, over the hubbub, but he seemed not to hear me. I leaned up closer to put my mouth nearer his ear, but he turned his head and, like a snake striking, captured my mouth with his.
The kiss held all his usual devastating power, but with a certain remoteness. He never stopped carrying me through the steps of the dance, even as he plundered my mouth with a remote and ruthless lust he’d never—even in his darkest moments—shown me before.
I managed to wrench my lips away, but he held me still with that alien strength, smiling at my futile struggles to escape him.
Then he released me and I nearly stumbled. His renewed grip around my wrist steadied me. He turned and, dragging me along by the hand, pulled me through the teeming crowd and to foot of Titania’s throne.
With a little shove, he pushed me to the floor and swept a bow to Titania. “Look, my queen, I’ve brought you a present.”
Part V
Breakthrough
Chapter Twenty-Four
In Which I Am Cornered
The longer I am around magic, the more it becomes clear that it manifests with as much unpredictability, complexity and sheer variety as any organic system.
~Big Book of Fairyland, “Rules of Magic”
The room didn’t go silent or anything, so I barely heard what Rogue said. Fortunately our little drama was but a small piece of the larger play. I clamped my thoughts down as tightly as I could, pushing as much of myself behind that wall of silence I’d learned.
I knelt at Titania’s feet demurely—submissively, even—not allowing myself to reflect on the irony that this skill too, came in handy. If we’d worried about her recognizing me, the moment pointed up how silly that had been. She barely glanced at me, far more interested in some display across the room. Naked, as always, she wore only a mask. An elaborate living mask that I quickly realized had been the face of some unfortunate fae, borrowed for the night. The ripped edges of flesh bled freely, dripping blood over her voluptuous breasts and running in rivulets down her sweet flesh.
Knowing the owner of the face likely couldn’t die, I imagined him screaming in agony somewhere locked away in her beautiful palace of glass and light, waiting for her to return his face. If she ever did.
Thankful that playing meek meant I didn’t have to look at it anymore, I sank myself into submitting. Biding my time.
Rogue stroked my hair affectionately, trailing long fingers along the nape of my neck. The touch, so familiar, so very him and still nothing. Finally Titania shifted her attention. I felt it in the change in Rogue’s demeanor.
Titania sighed loudly enough to be heard over the tumult. “Really, Rogue. Aren’t you tired of playing with humans? I thought you’d gotten enough from your little mortal tart.”
“She’s tasty. I thought perhaps you’d like to share her.”
“No. Go slake your thirst if you must, but be back by midnight. If she survives your attentions, you can display her later. A little whipping before she’s passed around to the others, perhaps.”
“Thank you, my queen.” Rogue tugged me up by the wrist and towed me from the room. In an act of supreme faith I let him, praying to the gods I’d never believed in that this was the right thing to do and not my last night alive before the fae gangbanged me to death. Walking briskly, he dragged me down a hall and into another wing, into a set of rooms made entirely of clear glass and set out over a drop to the chasm below, brightly lit by the moon.
Rogue tossed me onto a bed and pounced on me, pinning me with his long body, and holding my wrists together in one hand above my head. He kissed me breathless, yanked off the Dog mask—thank goodness—and kissed me again. Then he pulled off my mask and stared long and hard into my face.
I’d wondered, back at that first feast, what it would be like to see his face above mine in the night, the black thorns spiking around his mouth and eye, the mask of a predator more than the Dog’s had been. Now I hovered in an aching space between one thing and the next, poised above a figurative abyss as much as the literal one.
Would
he try to rape me and would I be able to stop him? Or was he still in there?
He closed his free hand over my throat and I gathered the magic, calling the cat to the surface.
Poised.
“By Titania’s rotten womb, idiot Gwynn—I expressly told you not to look for me.”
A bubble of the sweetest relief bubbled through me, and I pulled my wrists from his slackened grip and wrapped my arms around him, sobbing out his name.
He rolled onto his back, bringing me with him and stroked the back of my neck. “I didn’t think you’d forgive me.”
“For which thing?” I teased, giddy with seeing him again.
“I hope you have a plan for getting out of here.”
“Not so much,” I said against his chest. “I was kind of winging this.”
I wouldn’t have heard his sigh, but I felt it in the deep rise and fall of his chest, the falter in the rhythm of his heart.
“Can’t you ever just do as you’re told?”
I raised my head to look at him, the dark sorrow creasing his face. “As I’ve told you lo, these many times—not my forte.”
He sat up, tumbling me to the side, and stood, gazing down at me. “Well, I hope your strength is in escape because you’d better get out of here immediately. I won’t be able to help you. If you’re incredibly lucky, she won’t make me stop you.”
“She has that much control over you? I find that hard to believe.”
He laughed, short and bitter, folded his hands behind his back and began pacing. “You’d better start believing and fast. Midnight looms. I don’t think you or that fool Starling could survive what happens then.”
“All right. Then we’ll escape before that. Let’s get cracking on a plan.”
“Don’t tell me what it is.”
“But you have to know—you’re coming with us.”
He spun on his heel, staring at me as if I’d completely lost my mind. “Do you understand nothing at all, foolish Gwynn? I cannot come with you. That’s why I warned you not to look for me. I’m trapped with her forever. Think of me as dead.”
Rogue’s Possession Page 30
