The Ruby Kiss

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by Helen Scott Taylor


  He fished his Magic Knot out of his jacket pocket and looped the gold chain around her neck. “So Fenrir senses me in you,” he explained.

  She glanced down at the linked green rings against her skin. They pulsed disturbingly, as if they were alive.

  “Remember,” he said as they reached a small wooden door reinforced with iron bands, “stay against the wall until Fenrir’s quiet. I’ll be in wolf form, so I won’t be able to speak to you, but I’ll send you directions via our bond.”

  He shot back the four metal bolts securing the door. Fear surged inside Ruby, a mind-numbing rush of hot then cold that squeezed her guts and tightened her skin.

  “Time to go in.”

  A slow agonized breath filled her starved lungs, and she nodded.

  The Unseelie king whispered an incantation and sketched a symbol in the air. Untouched, the door creaked open. Fenrir lay curled asleep on the far side of the circular pit. Twister turned and put a finger to his lips. The air shimmered, and a wolf stood in his place.

  With a hand pressed over her nose against the disgusting stench, Ruby sidled through the doorway after him. As the door magically closed itself with a thunk that left no doubt it had relocked, she pressed back against the wall. How the hell would she get out again? She flattened her palms against the rough stonework. Cold seeped into her back. Grit and gooey algae stuck to her trembling fingers.

  Twister’s wolf padded silently across the filthy straw and halted a few feet from Fenrir. One of Fenrir’s golden eyes opened; his ears twitched, and he raised his head. Twister pranced about like a pup wanting to play, then he dropped to his belly and crawled forward, whining. The mad beat of Ruby’s heart slowed as Fenrir responded like a dog, nuzzling and yapping in welcome.

  Twister brushed her mind. The sense of his animals filled her head; then they merged into a powerful supportive force bolstering her confidence. She closed her eyes to focus on Twister’s mental commands.

  Through his layer of animal bravado she fell, into the seething mass of his emotions. She tumbled back through the centuries of his memories: his heartbreak each time his father attacked him, the physical and mental pain of the wounds and disfigurement, his determination to restore the father he loved. In Twister’s mind, Fenrir lived on as the man he had once been: tall, strong, beautiful, a god with flowing dark hair whose hand once rested affectionately on Twister’s shoulder. Hope beamed like a flashlight through the darkness of Twister’s despair, and Ruby was the source of that hope. No wonder Twister had been impatient with her when she moaned about her power. The inconvenience of her affliction and the trouble her parents had caused were nothing compared to Twister’s endlessly tragic life and his grief over his father.

  Through the swirl of emotions and images, Twister called out to her. She opened her eyes to find tears running down her cheeks. How could she have been so naive and selfish? Despite her difficult childhood and the loss of her mother, she’d had no concept of what real suffering was. She must do whatever she could to help.

  The Unseelie king blocked Fenrir’s view of her, so she approached unnoticed. She sucked in a breath and stepped forward, spurred on by Twister’s energy. Even lying down the old wolf looked huge. When she got to Twister, she sidled along the length of his lupine body until she could reach Fenrir’s rump.

  Panic clenched her throat. Would one touch do the trick? She’d been furiously hitting Twister when she transformed him. But, she could do this. She must take control, remember Aila’s instructions, and start using the amazing power she’d inherited.

  Ruby reached a trembling hand toward Fenrir’s ribs while the large wolf nuzzled Twister, still oblivious to her presence. Her fingers were mere inches from him when he suddenly stilled, however, ears pricked. The old wolf leapt to his feet so fast she barely had time to jump back. With nothing but the barrier of Twister between them, Fenrir’s golden eyes fixed upon her. His lips drew back to reveal wicked yellow teeth.

  Her mental link with Twister closed off suddenly, leaving her floundering without guidance or support. Frozen in horror, Ruby listened to her pulse beating out the seconds. Dragon’s deep laugh echoed around the chamber.

  Fenrir leapt at her, the muscles in his shoulders and flanks bulging. Twister pivoted to deflect his father’s lunge. The two wolves tumbled snout over tail, crashing to the ground in a tangle of legs, snarling and snapping mere feet away. Ruby’s brain told her body to run back to the wall and try the door, but her legs refused to obey.

  A furious bellow from above and the snap of wings broke her trance. Strong arms snagged her from behind, and her heels plowed two furrows through the filthy straw as she was dragged backward. Nightshade stepped in front of her and pushed her against the wall, his spread wings blocking her view of the wolves. Her breath came in short snatches, her lungs aching.

  “You all right?” His silver eyes came into focus. He was staring into her face.

  “Yes. Can you carry me out?”

  “I’m too weak. Getting out of that bar past Twister’s guards nearly finished me off.”

  The vicious snarling and growling of the wolves raged a short distance away. Ruby leaned into Nightshade’s chest, absorbing his strength and the false moment of security. But she knew it couldn’t last.

  She pressed back his wing. “Let me see what we face,” she commanded.

  He folded his wings, and they turned to face the danger together.

  Twister lay submissively offering his belly. Fenrir snapped and ripped at him, particularly at his blood-streaked muzzle. No wonder his face was a mass of scars.

  “You’ll never be able to safely touch him,” Nightshade announced. He turned to the small door and ran his hand around the edge. “How in the Furies does this open?”

  “Magic, I think.”

  “Shit.”

  An eddy of smoke appeared in the air beside them, and Devin materialized. His gaze jumped from them to the fighting wolves.

  “I’ll try silver tongue, but I’m not sure it’ll work on Fenrir. Be calm,” he intoned in a voice that resonated around the pit. The sound was deeply soothing; it smoothed away Ruby’s panic and fear. The wolves stilled, too. Their panting filled the unnatural silence.

  Devin took a few steps forward. “Sleep,” he crooned in a hypnotic whisper toward Fenrir and Twister. Ruby’s own eyelids drooped, and lethargy stole through her. Nightshade’s body sagged, squashing her against the wall.

  Devin touched her arm, jolting her back from the brink of sleep. “Now,” he said, giving a nod toward the sleeping wolves.

  Ruby wriggled out from behind Nightshade, who roused and gripped her hand. “No, Ruby.”

  “I must. Twister needs my help.”

  Nightshade’s gaze locked with hers for a couple of beats. Painful resignation flowed through his eyes, and he averted his gaze, released her hand, and stepped back. He was hurt because of her bond with Twister, but Ruby couldn’t deal with that now.

  Both wolves were flat out on the dirty straw, their eyes closed. Devin motioned Ruby to hurry. Heart pounding, she held her breath and placed the flat of her palm on Fenrir’s back. She looked at him with her artist’s vision. The pattern and color of his life force became clear, and the web of energy latched onto her hand as though it were sticky. She visualized Fenrir as the man she had seen in Twister’s memories . . . but nothing happened. Seconds passed.

  Frustration at her failure clenched her guts. The wolf’s breath hitched. It snorted, the noise trailing away to a rumble in its chest. Ruby’s heart stuttered, then raced. She lost concentration and slipped out of her artist’s vision.

  “Damn,” she whispered.

  She cast a desperate look over her shoulder at Nightshade. Her fear for his safety had fired her up to change Twister’s form. How could she generate that kind of emotional urgency again? She let her eyes lose focus again, and Fenrir’s life force reappeared.

  “She can’t do it,” Nightshade whispered to Devin.

  She gestured t
o indicate she needed more time. She must visualize Fenrir in the form she wanted him to take and weave the life force into that shape. But how did she make the glowing colored mesh of his life force change form? While she’d forced Twister to shift in an instant, this task seemed as impossible as unpicking a jersey and reknitting the wool into a different shape.

  “Come on,” Dragon bellowed from above. “Do something, woman.”

  Fenrir’s body jerked at the noise. Ruby jumped back as the wolf rose and with a display of lupine power wheeled to face her. His lips drew back in a snarl and he pounced.

  Ruby tumbled backward, landing with a winding thump on the filthy straw. She braced her arms, hands pressed to his chest to hold the wolf’s wickedly snapping yellow teeth away from her face. Time slowed; she turned her head from his rancid breath. Bile rose in a choking bitter burst to the back of her throat. Unless she turned him into a man now, she would be scarred like Twister if she survived at all.

  A vision of Fenrir in human form burst into her brain. “Change him, Ruby,” Twister shouted, now in human form, himself.

  Her arms were so tired she couldn’t hold Fenrir off anymore. Drool dripped onto her face, and teeth scraped her cheekbone. Then the matted fur beneath her hands disappeared. Strange tingling energy skated across her body; slimy skin landed against her palms. She stared up into the startled face of an old man.

  The filthy old man looked nothing like the beautiful god from Twister’s memories. His skin was so ingrained with dirt she couldn’t make out his features. Matted gray hair hung from his head and face, draping down to touch her. She shoved with all her strength and scrambled out from under him, her hands sinking into the sticky straw. Her breath heaved in and out. The stench and fear finally overcame her, and she was sick. Violently sick.

  “Thank the gods. Thank the gods!” Twister jumped up from the ground and ran the few steps to his father, fell to his knees.

  Nightshade crouched behind Ruby and wrapped his arms around her. He put his mouth to her ear. “You’re okay, Ruby. And, you did it. We’re free.”

  Twister pushed the stringy mass of greasy hair away from the old man’s face. “Father, it’s me.” Fenrir gazed back at him, expression vacant. “Say something, Father. Do you know me?”

  A pitiful wail broke from the old man’s throat, and he wrapped his arms around his head. When Twister touched him, he cowered. Twister persisted, and the old man snapped at him like a wild animal. The shock and pain radiating from Twister squeezed Ruby’s heart.

  “Give him time to adjust.” Devin walked over and rested a hand on the Unseelie king’s shoulder. “He’s got to get used to being a man again.”

  Ruby could hear from Devin’s tone that he didn’t believe that would happen.

  Fenrir, in man form, rose onto all fours. With a sullen glance, he crawled back to his bed in the straw.

  Twister scrambled wearily to his feet, his shoulders sagging dejectedly. “You don’t have to stay here, Father. I have a bath ready and a room with a soft bed.”

  Fenrir curled into a fetal position, his ragged clothes providing him little decency.

  Dragon leapt from the gallery, wings flapping, and dropped to the floor. He landed agilely beside Twister and wrinkled his nose in disgust. “He doesn’t even realize he’s shifted form. You’ve wasted your time.”

  Twister rounded on him. “Just stay out of it, nightstalker. You were supposed to help but you didn’t do a damn thing. You were supposed to protect Ruby.”

  As Twister and Dragon argued, Fenrir whimpered and wrapped his hands around his head. Nightshade helped Ruby to her feet, his arm around her.

  “I sensed Fenrir had lost his humanity. Why didn’t Twister know that?” he asked.

  Devin stared at Fenrir, his lips pressed tight. He shook his head. “Twister didn’t want to know. There’s nothing we can do. Let’s get out of here.”

  The djinn clearly knew the right magic, for he went to the door, chanted a few words, and inscribed a symbol in the air.

  As the door swung inward, tears filled Ruby’s eyes. The aftermath of the danger hit her. Poor old Fenrir had probably been better off in wolf form. Twister would have a tough time dealing with this, and she didn’t want to get sucked into the dark abyss of his emotions. Now that they were bonded, she needed to get far enough away that she couldn’t sense his grief.

  * * *

  Chapter Twelve

  Nightshade hugged Ruby to his side and ducked out through the low door of the pit. As they followed Devin up the narrow corridor, he felt her tremble with shock. Blinking against the pounding ache in his head, he silently berated himself for his weakness. It was just a state of mind. He couldn’t be sick when she needed him.

  “Oh, yucky yuck.” Ruby looked down at herself and wrinkled her nose. “I want a bath and clean clothes before I do anything else.”

  “You do smell a bit ripe.” Nightshade smiled, hoping levity would distract her from thoughts of Fenrir. She must feel terrible. It was bad enough that Twister had forced her into that whole situation, and even worse that the result had been so distressing.

  As they neared the end of the narrow tunnel, a pitiful whining came from behind Nightshade and Ruby. He pressed her against the wall, protecting her with his body, and Fenrir burst past them on all fours. Grunting like a distressed animal, Twister’s newly humanoid father bolted toward the main corridor.

  “Gosh,” Ruby said. “Look at him move. Does he still have wolf speed in human form?”

  “I shouldn’t think so,” Devin replied.

  “Wonder where Twister is,” Nightshade said.

  “I can sense him through the bond. He’s coming, and he’s freaking out.” Biting her lip, Ruby peered down the tunnel that led to the pit.

  Jealousy flashed through Nightshade at her obvious concern, and a chill settled in his gut as the Unseelie king emerged and his gaze locked with Ruby’s. She pointed in the direction Fenrir had gone, and Twister sprinted after him. Ruby and Twister’s silent communication disturbed Nightshade far more than any words could have. He cared for Ruby more than any other woman he’d ever known, but how could he ever come to terms with her being bonded to another man?

  “What happened to spook your father?” Devin called after Twister.

  “Bloody Dragon happened,” came the shouted reply.

  Nightshade glanced uneasily back toward the pit as Devin hurried after Twister. Although he still needed to resolve the issue of his brother’s guardianship, he wished his father would clear off and leave them alone. Dragon’s raison d’être seemed to be to mess up everyone’s lives as much as possible. Nightshade didn’t want him anywhere near Ruby.

  They reached the main corridor to find Devin peering into the Assembly Room through the massive wooden doorway, while animalistic whimpers and cries came from inside the room.

  “This is pitiful,” Devin said. “I don’t think I can watch.”

  “Leave Twister to sort it out. We need to arrange a bath and clean clothes for Ruby,” Nightshade said. He stroked a comforting hand along Ruby’s arm, but she tensed and closed her eyes. Then she shook her head as if denying something to herself.

  “Darn it.” She sucked in a breath, released it slowly. “We can’t walk away now. Twister needs help.”

  With an apologetic glance at Nightshade, Ruby hurried to Devin, and they both disappeared into the Assembly Rooms. Nightshade ground his teeth and let the urge to smash his fist into the wall fade before he followed.

  Fenrir was huddled against the wall near the door leading out of the Unseelie Court. Twister crouched nearby, speaking softly in a foreign language. His father made a keening sound, slapping at his head and tugging his hair. Nightshade didn’t like Twister, but he took no pleasure from the fact he’d been right about Fenrir’s diminished mental faculties. Twister was white as a ghost, his expression rigid with distress.

  Ruby was so tense that she trembled. Nightshade eased his arm around her. If he didn’t want to drive
a wedge between them, he’d have to be understanding about her bond with the Unseelie king, so he gritted his teeth and made a conscious effort to wind down his annoyance.

  “Is there anything we can do to help Twister?” he asked.

  “He doesn’t know how to reach Fenrir,” Ruby said. “They can’t communicate.”

  Devin caught Nightshade’s gaze and gave a slight shake of his head. This could only end badly.

  Nightshade and Ruby followed Devin toward Twister, moving slowly so as not to spook Fenrir. “He can’t understand you, Twist,” Devin said under his breath, hunkering down beside him.

  Twister pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. “Any suggestions? I’m at my wits’ end.”

  Ruby crouched at Twister’s side. Nightshade followed suit behind her, his hands on her shoulders. “Let me call Troy,” he suggested. “He’s Fenrir’s brother. There’s a chance he’ll get through.”

  “No,” Twister snapped.

  “What’ve you got against Troy?” Twister’s antipathy grated on Nightshade’s nerves. It wasn’t fair that he blamed Devin’s father for what had happened to his family.

  The Unseelie king visibly shrank, his shoulders slumping as his head fell forward. “Bloody Troy. He’s always right. He told me to put Fenrir out of his misery centuries ago. I should have listened.”

  Ruby put her hand on Twister’s arm, and a spike of jealousy rocked Nightshade back on his heels. He rose to his feet and turned away, though the sudden movement made his head swim.

  “Get down or you’ll spook Fenrir,” Twister shouted.

  As predicted, Fenrir took off. He scampered along the edge of the room on all fours and disappeared through the door that led outside.

  “Father!” Twister raced after him.

  Devin vaulted upright and disappeared in a puff of smoke. Ruby went next. As she dashed after Twister, Nightshade followed, but his muscles were sore and weak, his head spinning with the exertion.

  His heart thundered as he reached the opening. A stiff wind battered him, and he skidded to a halt beside Devin and Ruby on the edge of a precipice. A steep trail cut into the rock led downward and a deep forested gorge lay below. In the twilight gloom Nightshade stared down a rocky drop of at least two hundred feet to a gleaming ribbon of water marking the valley bottom. About twenty feet down, Twister clung to a rocky outcrop, his father’s hand clasped in his. Fenrir struggled and kicked for freedom.

 

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