Simon’s eyes were closed, but he wasn’t nearly so peaceful. He was breathing strangely, Zoe realized. His body shivered; she pressed a hand to his forehead, and found it hot to the touch.
“Are you real?” he whispered. There was such a raw, real longing in his voice that Zoe abruptly reassessed the situation. Not a dream. What is this?
“I’m here,” she promised. “I’m in the Briars, Simon. How…”
“I don’t know,” Simon said. “I thought I felt you… connected to me, somehow. I reached out to the Briars, and you were there.”
He felt the moment that I became a warlock, Zoe thought. Does he understand what it means? She brushed his hair back from his face. His skin was pale; his eyelids fluttered, but didn’t open. “You’re in Delirium, aren’t you?” she asked softly.
Simon let out a shivering breath. “I… believe so, yes,” he said. “It’s hard to think.”
“The Lady is sending someone for you,” Zoe told him. “She thinks she can ransom you back.”
“No,” Simon murmured. “They have… already arrived. Lord Wormwood named his price. It was too high.” His fevered green eyes opened to slits, but failed to focus; Zoe wasn’t entirely sure that he could see her. “The price is too high, Zoe. You can’t let her pay it.”
Dread snaked through her chest. “No price is too high,” she said, though she knew already that it was a lie. Faerie lords often demanded the cruel, the impossible, the unfathomable. What had Lord Wormwood asked for, in return for the Lady’s warlock? An emperor’s last breath? Someone’s first-born child? An entire city? She shook her head, chilled. “Anyway, I… I don’t think I could stop her if I wanted to. I made a pact with her, Simon. I’ve got to obey her.”
Pain flickered across Simon’s face. “I… should have expected that,” he said softly. “Why didn’t I expect that?” Zoe reached down to take his hand. For just a moment, his fingers curled into hers. Some part of her was getting through to him, at least. “Zoe,” he said quietly. “I need… I need to ask you something. I don’t want to ask it. But you’re the only person I trust.”
Zoe swallowed. “You’re not going to die, Simon,” she whispered. She’d meant to say it more firmly, but doubt and worry laced her voice instead. Her eyes blurred with tears. Don’t die. Please.
“The world isn’t fair,” Simon sighed. “I’m not going to assume that.” For just an instant, she felt that soft golden glow of his, pressing against her soul. She held onto it desperately, sinking into even that awful, feverish delirium, just to feel that much closer to him. Her hand tightened on his.
Simon’s eyes focused on her. “You made a pact with her,” he said. “You know what she is, what she’s becoming. But Zoe… it’s not your job to fulfill her whims. If you do that… she could become something worse than either faerie or human.” He breathed in a ragged breath. “You have to teach her to be better. It’s not what she wants, but it’s what she needs. It’s difficult… but you can make her listen.”
“I’m not a good person,” Zoe whimpered. “I’m not like you, Simon. You make people want to be better.” Tears dripped down onto his face. “I need you here. I can do this, but I can’t do it without you.”
“And I… I want to be there,” Simon said softly. “With you.” His fingers threaded through hers. “I love you, Zoe. I hate what you’ve done to yourself… but I’m glad I get to see you one more time.” He closed his eyes again. She felt him waver — he was far from the Briars, and whatever power he had used to reach out and touch her was fading. Zoe hurriedly tried to offer him her own power, to strengthen the connection from her side… but the effort was only so successful. Simon himself was weakening.
“I love you,” she whispered back. “I love you, and I’m not going to leave you. I’m going to find a way, Simon. There will be help for you, this time. If you can’t remember anything else… just remember that I’m coming for you.”
She leaned down to press her lips to his. The sensation was distant — like the brush of a gentle spring breeze. But Simon smiled weakly, and Zoe couldn’t help but think that the gesture had reached him.
When she awoke, he was gone… but the Lady was there.
The sky in the Briars had darkened. The sun had disappeared… but there were no stars, and the moon was little more than a tiny sliver of silver.
The Lady of Briars stood before Zoe, watching her with an inscrutable expression. Zoe saw the grief and desperation in her aura, though, and she knew that the Lady had heard Lord Wormwood’s price.
The faerie lord’s too-green eyes shifted toward Dorian, still fast asleep next to Zoe. “The witch told Lord Wormwood that the Secret-keeper was in my realm. Lord Wormwood wishes him in exchange for my son,” she said. “And I would give him. I would give you as well, and my crown, and all my realm, if it were enough.”
Zoe shivered. There was a cold truth in that statement. But the instant of alarm that it inspired calmed slowly as she remembered the Lady’s previous words. “You offered Dorian your hospitality,” she said. “He accepted. You can’t give him to Wormwood.”
Rage and grief overwhelmed the Lady. Her small form shuddered. “I have outmaneuvered myself,” she whispered.
Zoe glanced at Dorian, still soundly sleeping next to her. He was still exhausted… but there were signs of improvement in his body. Carefully, she extricated herself from Dorian’s arm, leaning him back against the tree behind them. She stood to face the Lady.
“Simon said the price was too high,” she told the faerie lord. “Even if you’d been able to give up Dorian, your son wouldn’t forgive you for it.”
The Lady sharpened her gaze. “You can’t have spoken with him,” she said. “You are lying.”
Zoe shook her head. “You own me now,” she said. “I’m not even trying to keep you out of my head. You should be able to tell if I’m lying to you.”
The willow-branch strands of the Lady’s hair quivered. Zoe knew that she had confirmed the truth. “Why?” she asked. “Why must Simon do this to me? Does he not love me?”
Zoe sighed. “He’s not doing it to you,” she said. “Of course he loves you. But he… there’s things that Simon needs to believe, in order to be who he is. Don’t you love who he is?”
The Lady gave her such a bleak, trapped look that Zoe knew the thought had already occurred to her. Hearing it spoken aloud twisted her heart and withered the flowers in her hair.
“We’re not going to leave him there,” Zoe said. “I’m going to figure out a way to get him home.” She rubbed at her face, wiping at the remnants of tears she suspected had fallen in her sleep. “Wormwood gave us a bad offer. So either we have to change the offer to something he can’t refuse… or else we’ve got to take Simon back.” She considered the Lady tiredly. “I don’t guess you know what Wormwood can’t refuse?”
The Lady had calmed, oddly. She had begun to watch Zoe with a burning purpose in her eyes. “Lord Wormwood loves nothing but destruction,” she said. “The dissolution of all things. Great power might tempt him… but I can think of nothing which he would be obliged to accept.” She paused. “I cannot enter Delirium. The only way in which I might set foot upon its soil is by conquering it for myself, and annexing it into the Briars. Such an assault is beyond me.”
Zoe chewed on that. “You can’t enter Delirium,” she said. “But I could. Couldn’t I?”
The Lady nodded slowly. “You are still mortal, and not bound by the laws of Arcadia. Moreover… Lord Wormwood may not notice you, if you are careful. Your magic, too, is of dissolution. It is possible that you might make your way to Simon and take him back… but unlikely. Lord Wormwood will be watching the object of his proposed bargain quite closely.”
Zoe considered that. “…unless he was really distracted at the time,” she said. She licked her lips. “Hey, uh… you said that taking on Delirium alone is beyond you. But what if you had help?”
The Lady of Briars tilted her head. She was very still for a long moment
. The wind whispered thoughtfully in the trees… and Zoe realized that the faerie lord was listening to her, weighing her words. The faerie lord — the tiny magical nuke she’d once worried might turn her into a tree — was currently considering Zoe’s advice with a strange and absolute trust.
Between the two of us, I guess I’m the expert in things that don’t instantly do what you tell them to do, Zoe thought. Is this what it’s been like for Simon?
“…I would need substantial help,” the Lady said finally. “But yes. A direct assault upon Delirium would be enough to distract Lord Wormwood from even a valuable prisoner.”
Zoe let out a breath. “Well,” she said. “Good.” She did her best to force confidence into her voice. “Because I’m pretty sure Lord Blackfrost could be persuaded to help.”
The Lady’s eyes burned. She drew herself up, thorns snapping from the trees around her. “I would never work with that creature!” she hissed.
Her fury was palpable… but thankfully, Zoe had been expecting the response. She steeled herself against the Lady’s anger, forcing a calm, reasonable expression onto her face. “Oh?” Zoe said, attempting a hint of puzzlement. “You said that you would give anything to get Simon back. I just assumed that would include allying with people you’d rather not.”
The Lady of Briars halted. Her eyes narrowed. The trees snapped and thrashed in the breeze. Slowly — very slowly — that anger abated into a sullen acknowledgement. “…Lord Blackfrost has no interest in helping me,” the Lady said finally. Zoe could tell that it was a last attempt at evasion. The faerie lord somewhat hoped that the words were true; if so, they would prevent her needing to swallow her anger and her pride.
“Simon spoke with Blackfrost,” Zoe told her. “He has his own bone to pick with Malcolm. If you frame this as a way to extract Malcolm from Lord Wormwood’s realm, he might go along with it.”
The Lady stood in silence, absorbing those words. Zoe knew that she was stewing on the concept, trying to wrap her mind around it. But they didn’t have time for the Lady to conquer her unease. Simon didn’t have the time. The longer he stayed in Delirium, the more Zoe began to worry that she wouldn’t get much of him back.
“I’ll let you send someone to speak with Blackfrost,” Zoe said. The Lady wanted someone to tell her how to solve this situation, to take charge. Zoe was only too happy to oblige. “I’m going to need some backup if I’m walking into that cesspool. Clearly, it can’t be just anyone.”
Zoe turned to regard Dorian, still resting against the tree. His eyelids fluttered, and her lips twitched. “Oh come on,” she said. “You’ve been awake this whole time, haven’t you?”
Dorian opened one grey eye. “Hm,” he said. It was as close to an admission as she was likely to get.
Zoe knelt back down next to him. “You still owe me a pretty big debt, don’t you?” she asked.
Dorian sat up and rolled his shoulders stiffly. “I do,” he said. “I assume you no longer require the name that you wished before.”
“Nope,” Zoe said. Her eyes glittered. “I’ve got a better idea.”
It was amazing, Zoe reflected, just how much power you could wield with the right person’s cell phone in your hand.
Less than twenty minutes after her text message — just as Zoe had resettled the wards on the office and set out a pot of tea — the seigneur of Montreal walked down the narrow cobblestone street in the Old Port toward Dorian’s legal office, his neatly-tailored coat fanning out behind him. His steps were measured, but Zoe detected a hint of well-considered haste in his movement.
As Jean Belmont opened the door to the office, Zoe poured herself a fresh, steaming mug of tea, and settled back into her chair.
The seigneur paused partway through the door, as he caught sight of Zoe behind the desk. She allowed herself the tiny, momentary pleasure of watching as his perfectly-controlled aura wavered with confusion and wariness. Those cool silver eyes flickered to her newly-green eyes — to the sudden white-blond streaks in her hair.
The vampire settled back onto his heels, letting the door pull closed behind him. A series of quick recalculations began behind his eyes.
Zoe smiled at him. “Hey,” she said. “Want some tea?”
The seigneur narrowed his eyes. “I am here for a meeting with La Voûte,” he said slowly.
“No,” Zoe corrected him. “Actually, you’re here for a meeting with me.” She held up the cell phone in her hand, tapping one ragged, dirt-stained nail against its screen. “I sent the text. I never said I was Dorian. You just assumed, given the number.” She nudged another mug toward his side of the desk. “It was all true, by the way. So we’ve got a lot to talk about.”
The seigneur did not move. Pure, unadulterated astonishment wound its way through him. His eyes looked her over again, as though seeing her for the very first time.
“I haven’t got a hell of a lot of time,” Zoe told him pleasantly. “Which means you don’t have a hell of a lot of time. I think it’s in both our best interests to get on with this, don’t you?”
The seigneur had not climbed to where he was in such a short time by being slow-witted. That iron self-control reappeared. He stepped toward the desk, leaning his palms against its surface. “You have sold your soul to the Lady of Briars,” he observed. “And she has bought my secrets from La Voûte.”
Zoe shook her head. “I can see where you might get that confused,” she said. “First, I accrued a very large credit with La Voûte. Then I sold my soul to the Lady of Briars. Now I’m blackmailing you. Temporarily.”
The seigneur raised one skeptical eyebrow. “Temporarily?” he said.
He glanced at the empty mug sitting across the desk from her. With a heavy sigh, he pulled off his coat and draped it across the back of the chair. Zoe saw his aura settling into old habits now — his initial shock was over with. This was now a matter of politics… an area in which he had quite a lot of experience.
The seigneur settled elegantly into the chair before him, his silver eyes calculating. “What is it you want, precisely?”
Zoe picked up the teapot obligingly, and poured him a mug of his own. Hope you like lavender, she thought. “Let’s start with what I have. I could be bluffing. I want to make absolutely sure you don’t start convincing yourself that’s the case.”
She set down the teapot and reached into her coat, tugging out an envelope. Zoe slid it across the desk toward the seigneur. “These are the secrets you sold to La Voûte, as detailed as he could write them down for me. If the paper looks kind of weird, it’s because I had to MacGuyver it out of a faerie tree that didn’t want to part with it.”
The seigneur took the envelope, and pulled out the paper inside. His eyes flickered over the words there. His aura grew cold. Zoe watched as he considered and discarded the idea of destroying the contents of the envelope right then and there. He was smart enough to know it couldn’t be that easy.
“Now, I don’t actually know what’s on that piece of paper,” Zoe admitted. “I made sure of that. I don’t want your secrets forever — that’s Dorian’s thing. But I know the value of what I traded for this… and it wasn’t cheap.” Zoe eyed him consideringly. “In fact, I’m starting to think you were trying to game the system. Everyone else trades what they think they can afford to lose… but not you. You traded your biggest, most crippling secret on purpose.”
The seigneur was silent… but Zoe saw a curl of irritation in his aura that suggested she was on the right track. She watched him over her mug as she sipped at her tea. “You were gambling on the fact that no one else would be willing to part with something so dangerous — in effect, you tried to make your secrets so expensive that no one would ever be able to buy them at all.” She paused. “And it worked — for the most part. Vivienne got really pissed off when she realized just how much she’d have to give away in order to get her hands on your dirty laundry.”
The vampire across from her didn’t react physically. But she saw the calculations ru
nning through his mind. “I assume that there is another copy of this somewhere,” he said.
“You’d assume right,” Zoe agreed. “I’m not a moron. I left the other copy with the Lady herself. She’s got more important stuff to worry about for the moment, but if it stays with her too long, she might get curious and open it up for a little light bedtime reading.” She levelled a hard look at him. “I’ve got you over a barrel. But more importantly, we both know you had a hand in what Vivienne did to me. Given that your political bullshit started this whole chain reaction and got me into a bunch of these problems in the first place, you’re damned lucky I’m just asking you to help me solve them.”
The seigneur narrowed his eyes at that. “You should be careful the accusations that you make, mademoiselle, unless you have proof to back them up.” Zoe saw that delicate, controlled nuance in his aura moving; he was turning this into an extended social contest, looking to regain some advantage.
She had zero intention of letting him do it.
Time to use the wrong spoon.
“Listen, Jimmy,” Zoe said. She enjoyed the flare of fury that instilled in him. “It’s you and me in this office right now. We’re not playing politics — that’s not what this is. I’m not Simon. I’m not gonna duel words with you and play with manners and careful social loopholes. I’d lose that contest in a heartbeat.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I know what you did. You know what you did. You convinced Vivienne to go off the rails and go after someone untouchable so you could have an excuse to come down on her and her buddies. Well, I got touched. And then, because that drew the wrong attention, Dorian got touched. And now, Simon’s gotten touched. And if you think for even a second that you’re going to be able to intimidate me into going away, I just want you to remember that one of the very first things I did this morning was swear my immortal soul to a famous fairy tale villain. Your threats basically do not rate, compared to the bullshit I have already done to myself.”
Faerie Lords Boxset Page 37
