One of the guards who accompanied his concubines when they traveled drifted out from the shadow of a tree and fell to his knees at Devin’s feet. “Master, do you need anything?”
“Shh.” Devin glanced over his shoulder through the door into the tent. Nightshade was dead to the world; the combination of Troy’s blood followed by the honey wine had wiped him out. But Devin didn’t want any of his women to wake, either. He couldn’t face them in his present mood.
He turned back to the guard. “Remain invisible.”
The man stood up and drifted back into the shadows.
Devin lit a taper in the campfire outside the tent before touching it to the tip of a spiced cigar. He inhaled deeply and puffed smoke rings into the air. The tang of cinnamon and cloves mingled with the taste of tobacco in his mouth, and he closed his eyes. Receiving pleasure from the women’s lovemaking cloaked him in a miasma of guilt. In his fantasies, every kiss and caress came from Aila, his beautiful, unobtainable love. Why couldn’t he just forget her? Why did she haunt him?
He walked over to a tree and slammed the side of his fist against the rough bark, relishing the jolt of pain up his arm. Only a fool pined after what he could never have. He should have realized that attending the Gathering would remind him of his first meeting with the Seelie king’s daughter. He was a bloody masochist.
* * *
Nightshade woke to the high-pitched sound of girlish giggles. He blinked, groaning as pain shot through his head. His mouth tasted like the inside of a boot, yet his body hummed as though an electric current buzzed along his nerves.
Raising himself on an elbow among the pillows, he gazed around himself. The mingled scents of sex, incense, and burning oil hung in the air. He vaguely remembered Devin cavorting naked with a trio of women last night, but what in the Furies had happened to him? He’d bitten Troy; now he felt as though someone had kicked him in the head and then trampled on his body. He wanted to flop back onto the cushions, but his stomach rumbled. He supposed he’d better get something to eat.
Outside the tent he found Devin reclining on a purple silk swing eating spicy meatballs and couscous. At his feet sat three women garbed in turquoise, pink, and emerald dresses trimmed with gold thread and sparkling jewels. Their heads were covered and the lower parts of their faces veiled. All three turned inquisitive dark eyes on him as he approached.
Nightshade stiffened under their scrutiny. He remembered them touching him. But delicate, fluttery women who looked as though they would break made him uncomfortable, and an image of Ruby dressed in her tight top and shorts, threatening him with the baseball bat, flashed into his mind. He pushed the memory away. He refused to think about her after she had rejected him so harshly.
Devin gave him a wry grin and signaled to a man crouching by the cooking pot to load another plate. “You’re back in the land of the living, I see.”
The women whispered behind their hands, giggling. Devin barked a command and clapped, sending the females scampering back into the tent, trailing bright gauzy veils like exotic butterflies. Some of the tension eased from Nightshade’s shoulders once they were gone, and he dropped onto the swing seat at Devin’s side to tuck into his food.
“We missed all the excitement last night,” Devin announced. “A minor deity, the Mistress of the Beasts, died with no known heir to inherit her power, and the king of the Unseelie Court has offered a reward to anyone who finds her female descendants. She didn’t have any daughters, but she had one son—Kade, a Seelie hunter. The way he puts it about, he must have fathered a daughter somewhere. So the contest is on between the blessed and unblessed courts to see who can control the next Mistress of the Beasts.”
Nightshade grunted in response. He had no interest in Scottish Fairy Court politics. Unpleasant experiences in the Irish Fairy Court and the Welsh Fairy Court had taught him to stay well clear.
“Do you feel different after taking Troy’s blood?” Devin asked, his expression curious.
“I feel like crap. I’ve got a bloody hangover.” He winced at his own harsh tone. He sucked in a deep draught of cool woody air and strove to relax. “Sorry. I’ve had a bad couple of days.”
“Let’s hear the details,” Devin encouraged with a suppressed grin.
Nightshade set aside his plate and leaned back with a resigned sigh. His whole sorry tale would come out sometime, so he might as well face the embarrassment now. He related his last couple of days with the human named Ruby, leaving out the part about falling through her roof after being hit in the face by a bird. He could only tolerate so much humiliation at one time. When he’d finished, he looked up to find the djinn struggling to suppress his mirth.
“Listen, stalker. The last thing you want to mention when you’re about to get lucky with a lady is babies. Talk about killing the mood!”
“But both your half brothers’ women had babies quickly.”
“Yes, but I bet neither Michael nor Niall mentioned babies or good childbearing hips or anything like that until they’d romanced their ladies and fallen in love.”
The word “love” hit Nightshade like a bird in the face. He tumbled into a dark place of despair. “I can’t fall in love with a woman. They’re so, well . . . female. I’m attracted to strength and power.” Yet without a woman, he would never have the son he longed for.
“You’ve just not met the right one.” Devin eyed him thoughtfully. “Or maybe you have. If you’re cut up about Ruby throwing you out, you should go back. Apologize. Ask for a second chance.”
Nightshade bristled. “I’m not going to apologize to a hysterical female who doesn’t understand the purpose of mating.”
“Oh, ya rajol.” Devin slapped him on the thigh. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m guessing you’ve never mated with a female.”
“Why would I? I’ve only been interested in using these.” His fangs slid out, and sensing the musky smell of the djinn’s skin, he grinned suggestively.
Devin stood and stretched. “If you want to bite me, stalker, you can do it tonight when my ladies can enjoy the show.” The djinn’s playful tone faded, and he gave Nightshade a serious look. “I really think you should go back to Ruby and charm her into bed. I’m betting that once you’ve experienced sex, you’ll forget it has anything to do with making babies.”
* * *
After Nightshade left, Ruby spent the two days before full moon in her art studio painting twelve hours a day. It was always her most productive time: the time when she easily used what she called her artist’s vision to see the energy of living things and produce the abstract canvases that sold so well. But this session, all she could visualize was Nightshade—his vibrant masculine energy. Canvas after canvas filled with the bold bright strokes of power that defined him. But she would never sell these paintings. She would keep them to remember him by.
On the eve of the full moon she dropped onto the beanbag in her studio with tears in her eyes and stared out at the sun setting behind the trees. Why had she sent him away without even getting his cell phone number? She got up, fed her dogs, and trudged to the small cell-like room where she slept on full moons. It was completely furnished with manmade materials that weren’t damaged by her affliction. She was still thinking about Nightshade when she fell asleep.
The following morning, Ruby stretched in the early morning sun flooding through the window. She felt weary after a night of horrible dreams where she relived the stupid fight she’d had with Nightshade, but at least another full moon had passed without her affliction causing damage to her home. Now she had four weeks before the next full moon to get her work out to galleries, meet up with people who had requested commissions, and try to forget the damn legacy her father had given her.
In the mudroom along the hallway, her two Yorkshire terriers barked to go out. Ruby stepped from the vinyl that covered the moon room’s concrete floor onto the pine boards in the hall and walked toward the back door. The wood flexed beneath her feet. With horrified disbelief, Ruby
watched the edges of the boards curl upward, green shoots sprouting from beneath. Her heart tripped, then raced. This shouldn’t be happening now. Why would the affliction be active during daylight when the moon wasn’t even visible?
She hesitated for an agonized second, torn between dashing back to the moon room or running to unlock the back door and let out her dogs. The dogs won. Leaving a trail of warped and sprouting floorboards, Ruby dashed into the mudroom and received an effusive doggy welcome. She picked both up for a cuddle, straightened the bows on their topknots, then reached to unlock the door.
It took some doing, but she managed to push open the wooden door, let the dogs out, grab a log from outside, and make her way back to the moon room without causing too much damage. Sitting on a plastic chair, Ruby hugged her arms around her middle. What would she do if the cursed affliction didn’t stop this time? She wouldn’t be able to leave the moon room without wrecking the lovely home she’d worked so hard to buy. After a childhood on the road always moving, it was her sanctuary, her dream. The hours dragged past. She watched inane game shows on the old television and listened to the radio. She couldn’t even pick up a book because the paper grew brittle and changed color like autumn leaves.
Memories of Nightshade filled her thoughts. She almost imagined she could smell the musky almond fragrance of his skin, and she remembered with a pang of longing the strange excitement of having him in the house.
Every fifteen minutes, she put her hand on the log she’d brought inside to test if the stupid affliction had worn off. By four p.m., she’d touched the log so many times the damn thing had sprouted into a mini tree complete with roots. It seemed she would have to endure a second night in the room. If she ever met her father, she was going to tell him exactly what she thought about this damn useless power she’d inherited from him. It had been the bane of her life.
The sky darkened and stars became visible against that velvet blue canopy. Pulling closed the front of the ghastly old brown and orange acrylic dressing gown that had belonged to her mother, Ruby dashed outside and called her dogs. Her property covered five acres, and she could hear their excited yaps in the woodland near the northern boundary. They had probably cornered some poor creature in the undergrowth.
Standing on the concrete path outside the back door, she rattled a metal bowl full of kibble to attract the dogs’ attention. No success. She grew cold standing still, so she slipped on her green boots and grabbed a flashlight. But the moment she stepped off the concrete path, the short clipped grass came to life. Beneath her boots, green stems snaked up.
With a little huff of irritation, she started jogging so that her feet didn’t stay in one place long enough to get tangled in the burgeoning growth. She headed in the direction of the barking, but the sound stopped abruptly.
At the edge of the woodland, Ruby swung the flashlight between the tree trunks. “Ares, Apollo—come here, boys!”
Deafening silence met her call. A sense of unease prickled up her spine. Ruby stood still to listen, but ivy reared up from the ground to twine around her legs. She ripped the vines away with a curse and sidestepped.
A canine yowl of distress sounded among the trees. Ruby charged forward, gripping her flashlight to use as a weapon. If her small dogs tangled with a badger or the old fox she’d seen in the garden, they could be hurt. But just as she really started to worry, Ares and Apollo pelted out of the undergrowth. She shouted at them to stop, but they ignored her and scampered back toward the house.
“What the hell’s the matter with you two?” she said, turning to retrace her steps along the narrow woodland path. A sudden gust of wind carried the stink of carrion.
She paused and looked over her shoulder. The deathly silence sent a flash of fear through her: Something lurked in the shadows.
Ruby turned to run, gripping her dressing gown closed over her breasts, but she tripped on a tangle of greenery and pitched forward onto the ground. The flashlight jolted from her hand and cracked against a tree. The comforting yellow beam of light blinked out, leaving her in darkness.
“Shit.” She tore at the ivy winding around her boots. As the woody stems cut into her fingers, her heart thundered and her breath burst in and out. She clambered to her feet, beating away the slithering leafy assailants. How she hated her power; it was more of a curse. If she ever had the chance to rid herself of it, she would do so in a heartbeat.
Now her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she made out deeper patches of shadow moving among the trees.
“Nightshade?”
She prayed the creature she could sense was the nightstalker, but she knew that was wishful thinking.
“I can smell her. She’s the one.” Sibilant words whispered on the wind.
Ruby launched herself forward, only to pull up short when a dark figure stepped into her path. She jabbed out with her fist, made contact at groin level with soft, fabric-covered body parts. On a hissing rush of breath the figure jackknifed over. Ruby pushed past and ran blindly in the direction of the house.
On either side of the path, between the tree trunks, shadowy figures tracked her. Ruby’s lungs burned with her pace and panic, and as soon as she broke from cover two creatures converged and tackled her. A steely grip encircled her arm, yanking her to a halt. Winded, she couldn’t put up much of a fight.
The two creatures pushed her down to the ground, pulled her hands behind her back, and tied them together. A third set of boots appeared near her face. She turned her head away and buried it in the madly sprouting grass, hoping their owner wouldn’t kick her in retaliation for punching him.
No blow fell, so she raised her face, gasping air into lungs crushed under the weight of a knee on her back. Sibilant yet rattling breaths sounded close to her ear. The stench of rotting meat filled her nose, making her gag. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the moonlit silhouette of a birdlike face with spiky tufts of hair.
A rough hand grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. “Not much to look at, but Twister’s desperate for the new Mistress. She’ll net us a pretty penny,” one of her captors said. “We’ll take her back along the Darkling Road.”
“What if the Master of the Darkling Road catches us?” the second creature asked.
“He’s too busy with his harem and his pretty friends to notice.”
Ruby goggled. Harems and mistresses? What century were they living in? A string of swear words rattled through her head, but she didn’t have the breath to get them out of her mouth. Still, one thing was sure: If this guy Twister who was desperate for a mistress laid a finger on her, she would make him wish he’d never been born.
* * *
Chapter Three
For the fourth time, Ruby spat out the disgusting rag her kidnappers kept forcing into her mouth. “Let me go you filthy, stinking beak-noses.”
They’d taken her along a strange shadowy pathway through the Scottish countryside that they called the Darkling Road. Her feet hurt where her boots had rubbed them and her legs ached from the unaccustomed exercise. She’d temporarily given up fighting for freedom because even if she escaped she would be trapped in this weird other dimension or reality. She’d never imagined the supernatural could be like this. The creatures she’d met when she was a child had all lived in the normal world.
After what felt like hours, the creatures pushed her off the path and out from between the tangled roots of a massive tree into a new woodland scene. The fresh, pine-scented air told her they were back in her normal reality even before the ground vegetation burst to life around her feet. The seething mix of fear and anger she’d kept a tight lid on overflowed. She kicked, screamed, and tried to twist out of her captors’ hands, but she was already exhausted and the three creatures easily overpowered her.
They kept a tight hold on her while they cut the plastic twine around her wrists, then dragged her through the woods toward the sound of voices. The forest gave way to an open area thronging with people. Wood smoke hung in a pall against the dark sk
y above the crowd.
The babble of strange voices and the discordant notes of foreign music disoriented her. Ruby sucked in a smoky breath, struggled, then shouted for help. The onlookers stared at her curiously, but no one challenged her captors. As she stared around, she saw creatures she recognized from her mother’s books. Many of the crowd looked as though they could be human if not for their weird clothes, but some of the individuals were the stuff of nightmares, all warty and wrinkled with claws and fangs. A few strikingly beautiful males had her craning her neck to keep them in view. Then a little shock of hope pulsed through: Might Nightshade be here?
Her throat raw and aching, she didn’t waste any more energy. Instead she changed tactics and went floppy, trying to make herself difficult to transport. Her captors pulled her into a clearing in the crowd. In the center was a massive throne made of dark twisted branches set upon a rough wooden dais trimmed with sprigs of holly. Ruby squinted. The red-hot glow of a roaring bonfire silhouetted the throne from behind, making it difficult to get a clear view of its occupant.
With the eerily swaying arcs of light from lanterns strung around the clearing, Ruby’s eyes gradually adjusted. At least the man on the throne appeared to be human shaped.
“Sire, we bring you the woman you seek.” The beak-noses pushed her to her knees on a flat slab of rock and joined her on the ground before the throne.
Faced with the architect of her abduction, all the anger and humiliation she’d suffered over the last few hours gave Ruby renewed energy. As soon as her captors let her go, she sprang back to her feet.
“You have no right to bring me here,” she shouted. She took two strides toward the throne before a man the size of a small mountain blocked her path. She glared up at him. Her jaw dropped at the sight of the single large eye in the center of his forehead.
The Ruby Kiss Page 4
