“Tael,” came a deep voice, filled with more power than most of them could comprehend.
Tael swallowed hard and opened his eyes, not realizing they’d been shut to begin with. A pair of black leather boots were planted firmly in the cleared-out ground before him; motorcycle boots from what Tael could see, dusty and well used.
He very hesitantly looked up. Standing directly over him was the liege of their land, Lord Avery – whose real name none of them knew, nor would ever know.
“Yes, my lord?” Tael asked.
“What the fuck gives, Tael?” the king asked, shaking his head. Green eyes flashed, and the shards of amethysts embedded within them lit up with unspent magic. “This is the third time I’ve had to come clean up your mess.”
Tael knew better than to object, or really say anything at all for that matter.
Lord Avery looked up, taking count of the humans in the field. “How many did you abduct this time? Half a dozen?”
“Three,” Tael admitted softly, looking down again. “The others here are not my doing.” He was not the only fae to have taken mortals from their realm that night.
The king fell silent for a moment, no doubt weighing his next actions. The silence stretched, and as he seemed to be considering the situation, he waved his hand dismissively, and the humans stopped dancing.
“I’ll deal with you when I’ve sent them back.”
At once, Tael looked up – and in a move he’d never before made, he stood before his king, coming rapidly to his feet.
Avery slowly looked away from the humans in the Dancing Ground and made eye contact with him. Tael’s nerves began to freeze and burn at the same time, but against all odds, he stayed standing.
The king cocked his head to one side, immediately interested, his unnaturally beautiful eyes glittering. His brow raised. He waited.
“Please, my lord,” stumbled Tael. “Don’t send her back. The one with the fire hair and the nighttime eyes. She belongs here. With me. It is her desire to stay.”
“Oh?”
Tael swallowed hard, again, and barely got it down this time. He nodded. “Yes.”
Avery looked away, found the girl Tael spoke of in the crowd, and recognized that she had been the sole human who wasn’t still dancing when he’d appeared. “Interesting.”
The girl had been watching him. Unlike the other humans, she seemed aware of what was happening. Her face did not lack expression, and her eyes were not glazed over. In fact, she seemed a touch overwhelmed and even hopeful.
Avery raised a well-muscled arm to gesture for her to come to him.
Naturally, she hesitated. But Tael turned, met her gaze, and nodded. She nodded back and slowly made her way across the field. As she did, the others moved out of her way until she came to stand but a few feet away from the Seelie King.
“Is what Tael tells me true? Do you wish to remain here with him in his realm? Tell me truly now. Speak your own mind.”
With these words, the king erased any lingering influence Tael’s Korred charm might have held over her. But it turned out there wasn’t much there to begin with. She blinked a bit, and looked around again, but all in all, did not seem surprised. When she caught sight of her two friends looking dazed or drunk in the midst of the small crowd of mortals, she shook her head. “I was right,” she muttered to herself. “Once again, what they thought were vampires were really fairies.”
Avery glanced at Tael, who was trying not to smile. Of all things. “Meredith, answer the king?” he urged. He took the human girl’s hands in his. “You need to make a choice,” he continued gently, his amber eyes glittering with a mixture of respect and hope.
“Well,” she said softly, “I haven’t much to go home to. And… Tael tells me this world is magnificent. I could use some of that right about now.”
“If you remain, you will remain as his mate,” said the king, who turned to regard the fae before him. “You know very well human servitude is no longer permitted.” It hadn’t been for thousands of years – since Avery had taken over as king, in fact. It was just that old habits died very hard, and the Korred were stubborn.
Tael nodded. “It is what I desire as well.” And it was. Tael had recognized a potential life mate in Meredith from the moment he’d laid eyes upon her and her deep, deep soul. He’d made up his mind.
“Very well,” said King Avery. “You will speak one another’s true names.” He glanced up, and the air shimmered, hardening around them to form a shield, which he placed there to protect the sanctity and power of the fae’s true name from the very good ears of the other fae in the clearing.
Tael swallowed hard, but his eyes softened, and his back straightened. He turned fully to Meredith. “You are Meredith,” he said, sealing his end of the bargain. “As to my name… you’ll know it,” he told her. “In here.” He placed his fingers upon her chest, obviously referring to her heart. Her soul.
“When you hear it in there,” he continued. “Just whisper it aloud and look into my eyes.”
Avery and Tael waited. Meredith bit her lip. Then she closed her eyes and seemed to be searching inward. When she opened them again, she smiled.
Very softly, she spoke a name.
The sky cracked, the field shook, and light enveloped the clearing. This light grew blindingly bright before it coalesced and moved in, centering on Meredith and Tael. Rapidly, it filled their forms as if they were sucking it up like vacuums. They began to glow.
“Let it be done,” said the king. And the two were joined. “Now then, since that’s taken care of,” he continued once the lights had faded again. He turned to Tael and his expression became stern. “There’s the issue of your punishment.”
Tael blinked and tore his gaze from his bride to look up at his king.
“Since you’ll not be needing to abduct anyone any longer and now you’ll be on your honeymoon for all intents and purposes, I’ll go easy on you.” The king snapped his fingers, and Tael fell to his knees, at once weakened beyond measure.
“My lord!” he cried, confused. “What have you done?”
“I’ve made you mortal.”
Tael looked up, his eyes wide, his expression shocked.
“Well, for a little while anyway. Until I’m satisfied you’ve learned your lesson. And I’ll give you a some advice. Steer clear of Chroi’s goblins in your current form, look both ways before you cross the street in the mortal world, and whatever you do, don’t eat the morphing mushrooms.”
Tael still looked shocked.
Avery smiled. “On the up side, iron won’t harm you now.” His smile became a grin, broad and white and killer. “Congratulations on your union, Tael. There’s always a silver lining.”
With that, he stepped back, and a portal instantly swirled to life behind him. Within split seconds, he’d disappeared into the magic doorway and every mortal but one – make that two – vanished from the field along with him, leaving Tael and Meredith standing silently side by side, a dozen Korred fae kneeling in the dirt, and a few wayward tendrils of mists moving lazily through it all.
*****
Lord Avery of the Seelie Kingdom finished sending the mortals back to their realm and then returned to his castle, where he waved away every servant who wished to serve him, locked the doors to his main chamber with no more than a thought, and sat back in his favorite leather wing-backed chair to gaze steadily into the crackling fire.
Not for the first time in his long, long reign as king of the “light” fae, Avery thought on the events of the day, events he’d faced alone, and found himself focusing mainly on the impromptu wedding he’d performed.
It had been instantly clear to him that Tael and his mortal friend possessed souls meant for one another. These things were easy for a fae to see, and especially for their kings. Avery had seen the colors of their souls, recognized their matching radiances, and had done for Tael what no one had been able to do for Avery for thousands of years.
What no one could do for Ave
ry.
Because there was no soul out there whose colors matched his own.
If thousands of years on a solitary throne taught a man like Avery anything, it was that: Some kings were simply meant to rule alone.
Chapter One
Current day….
Ophelia drew her thoughts inward, imagining them barricaded behind a massive steel door five feet thick. She imagined this wall all around those thoughts, a dome of equally thick metal, shielding everything she had done in the last three days from the prying powers of the master vampire before her. This was a talent she had honed over the last hundred years or so. And one that had saved her many a torture.
Something had occurred to her about a week ago, after her love’s new bride had made her appearance in these caves. Evelynne D’Angelo didn’t deserve her last name. She was ordinary. She was a laborer with not a drop of regal blood to her veins. What Roman saw in her, Ophelia would simply never understand. Nevertheless, he had made his decision and abandoned Ophelia in favor of a commoner.
And now Ophelia was trapped, a slave to an evil man. Roman’s brother: Rafael.
Rafael had attacked and taken Ophelia long ago. He’d turned her into a monster like him, and then kept her under his thumb as a form of revenge against Roman. The worst thing about it though, worse than the pain and the blood loss and the physical scars, was that Roman hadn’t even known about this revenge for two hundred years! And now that he did? He didn’t care.
She’d lost everything, everything she’d ever hoped or dreamed or looked forward to, every chance she had ever had. And all for a man’s revenge that had never come to fruition. For nothing.
Ophelia was on her own. She needed to stop waiting for the man she loved to rescue her. He never would. It was up to her to escape – if escape was even possible.
There was the tiniest, most miniscule piece of Ophelia that was beginning to believe it just might be.
Weeks ago, one of Rafael’s plans had ultimately failed due to the interference of Lily Kane, a werewolf seer whose visions were far too intrusive for Rafael’s tastes. Rafael had decided the woman needed to be eliminated, along with Lalura Chantelle, the high witch who was apparently the most powerful among her kind. Rafael hadn’t wanted any more witchery ruining carefully laid plans.
However, Ophelia had reminded her master that going after anyone involved with the werewolves, such as Lily Kane, would not only be difficult and unnecessary, it would be dangerous. Kane was far too well connected and coveted, and the last thing Rafael needed right now was the whole of the werewolf nation bent on his destruction.
Unlike vampires, which could remain patient and wait their enemies out – even going so far as to ignore them for hundreds of years – werewolves were ruthless, tenacious hunters who followed a scent to completion and hounded their prey until either they or their victim were no longer breathing. Most werewolves lacked any supernatural gifts other than superior strength, self-healing abilities, and a slightly elongated lifetime. Without the luxury of countless years or magical spells to aid them, they instead relied upon sheer, naked willpower and a good set of fangs.
“If you kill Lily Kane,” she had told him, “you will have the entire werewolf nation to contend with.”
He’d tried to make light of it, shrugging and insisting that the wolves were already their enemies. But Ophelia had corrected him. “Lily Kane not only has the affection of her husband and the werewolf nation in general due to her Seer abilities, she has a powerful guardian. And a kind of bond with Malcolm Cole.”
Rafael had frowned. “The author?”
“Yes. He is one of the most dangerous men known to the supernatural world. And Lily Kane’s best friends are all very powerful werewolves in their own rights. One of them is the Curse Breaker. Another is the former Overseer’s granddaughter.”
This seemed to have gotten through to Rafael, because he’d then let the subject drop, and turned his attention to his favorite pastime, which was Ophelia… and discovering the different ways in which she could scream in pain.
But that interaction had left the seed of an idea within Ophelia. It was almost laughable that she would dare to hope, but there it was! That hope was the bit of human remaining inside of her, she guessed.
Ophelia had taken the idea and run with it. If killing an important werewolf would set the dogs on Rafael and weaken his power, then that could work to Ophelia’s benefit. So long as she kept a low profile.
All she needed to do was get to the right wolf. So far, it had been exceedingly difficult. She had targeted several people she felt certain would draw Lily Kane or Dannai Caige – or any of them really – out of the woodwork, but so far, they seemed to be one step ahead of her. As if they knew something was going down.
And maybe they did. Kane was, after all, a “seer.”
Still, the attacks were not without merit. Under Rafael’s radar, Ophelia had managed to convince several of Rafael’s vampires that their master wished certain werewolves dead, and of course they’d obeyed. No one wanted to disappoint D’Angelo. That was very dangerous.
They’d attacked and killed most of their targets, with the exception of one very fortunate and very resourceful young law student. Then Ophelia had stepped in and, any vampires not directly killed in counter-attack, she took care of herself in order to get rid of the evidence. One benefit of being turned by a vampire as powerful as Rafael D’Angelo, and of having two hundred years with which to hone her skills, was that Ophelia was not exactly a weak vampire herself. She had skills.
All in all, plenty of damage had been done, and no one had been left alive who could directly link the attacks to Ophelia.
Rafael would be blamed. The wolves’ hackles would be raised. And he would be their target.
If they hadn’t decided to already, eventually, the species would decide to fight back. And that would be Ophelia’s one chance at escape.
That was her one hope.
*****
The sound of shattering glass filled the kitchen. Somewhere beyond the recently remodeled room, voices and music fell into silence.
The next sound was that of the garage door opening and shutting.
“Lily?” Daniel called.
Lily touched her fingers to her forehead and looked down at the floor. The porcelain from her tea cup had starbursted all across the kitchen tiles. Tiny slivers were everywhere. “Don’t come in here,” she warned. But her voice was quieter than she’d planned. She felt dizzy.
A flash of an image had erupted before her mind’s eye, red and dark and terrible. And she had no idea what it had been, but the emotion attached to it was so drastically, morbidly wrong, she’d frozen in the kitchen, gone absolutely still – and dropped her mug. The image was gone. In its wake, Lily felt a residual darkness coated over her spirit, like sticky black ink.
Daniel appeared in the archway that connected the kitchen to the dining room. She looked up at him, watched his blue eyes take in the glass on the floor and most likely the pale hue of her cheeks, and step into the kitchen anyway. His shoes would protect him. He’d just come in from work and he’d taken his Harley in that day, hence he was wearing motorcycle boots with thick tread.
“What happened?” he asked, drawing her into his strong, protective arms as he always had. “What did you see?”
Daniel had grown accustomed to her visions by now, and he didn’t need a map to point him down that road. He recognized the signs.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “It was something… Daniel, I saw something very bad.” She knew she wasn’t exaggerating when she went on to say, “It was worse than ever before.” She’d never had a vision like it – and never had she come out of a vision without knowing exactly what it meant or what to do about it.
Daniel pulled away enough that he could look down at her. She saw concern flash like sapphires.
“But don’t ask me what it was, because I honestly don’t know. I – I guess I didn’t see it long enough or –” She
broke off, not knowing what to say.
“Mama?”
Lily moved back enough that she could look down. A tow-headed toddler face was peeking around the corner from the dining room. Enormous, bright blue eyes stared up at her.
“Baby, don’t come in here,” Lily sternly warned her son. “There’s glass on the floor. Stay where you are.”
Her son, William Kane, looked down. The mug she’d dropped had been sky-blue with splashes of red and yellow. The three-year-old took in the tiny, colorful pieces of porcelain and thought about them. “Your Winnie the Pooh cup?”
Lily blinked. “Yes,” she admitted, proud that he’d been able to piece that much together. It had been her favorite mug.
“Oh,” he said, and his little face took on an empathetic pouting expression. Big blue eyes peered back up at her. “I’m so sorry.”
Lily couldn’t help but smile. She was melting a little, and a touch of the darkness that had draped itself over her was moving away. He might not know exactly what it was he was saying, and it was likely he didn’t actually feel the empathy that was evident on his face, but he was trying. And when a child as young as William did such grown-up things… well, it was so adorable, she just sort of wanted to stick his head in her mouth like a lollipop and eat him.
Lily noticed that he had her iPhone in his left hand. The app that had been playing was currently paused, but she could still see it clearly in its frozen state. It was Grover’s “The Monster at the End of This Book” app. It was Will’s favorite. He played it constantly, and he’d read the book so many times, it was basically held together by a few frayed threads where it rested on the bookshelf in his room.
Lily couldn’t blame him. The book had been one of her favorites as a child.
She glanced toward the cabinet that held the broom and dustpan, and for the umpteenth time since she’d been pulled into her “supernatural” world of werewolves and witches, she sort of wished she were a full-fledged magic user rather than a wolf. She could just snap her fingers and the glass would be gone.
The Seelie King Page 2
