Charmed Vengeance tac-2

by Suzanne Lazear

  “Jeff’s doing business with Brogan—and he’s calling himself Kyran?” Kevighn rubbed his chin, the sun glinting off his black hair which hung loose instead of its usual tail. “This is serious.”

  Parasol tucked under her arm, she flipped the latch, and opened the case. “Oh, Kevighn, look.” She held up a bit of gold. The sun caught on it and she could make out the partial design, which caused her to suck in a sharp breath. “This was the piece from the museum in Denver. This is the high court sigil, isn’t it?”

  Kevighn leaned in to examine it, standing far too close for polite comfort. Then again, he always did take any liberty he could.

  “Yes, this is.” He stoked the piece with his finger. “What is Brogan up to and why is he using the name Kyran? The real Kyran won’t like that very much at all.”

  “We can’t give this to him.” Closing her eyes, she held the piece in her hand. “There is so much magic in this.” Her voice shook as the power from it coursed through her. Tell me your secrets, she begged. All she felt was the hum of magic under her skin.

  “Noli?” Kevighn sorted through the pieces in the attaché case. “I think I know what this is. It’s incomplete, but you’re right. We can’t give this to Brogan.”

  “What is it?” It couldn’t be anything good—not if Brogan was involved.

  “An artifact that has been gone from the Otherworld so long it’s presumed to be only myth and legend,” he breathed. “If half the stories are true, it’s probably best if it remained out of the hands of people like him.”

  Noli’s belly twisted. No, not good at all.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Noli? This is no time for your antics.” Jeff appeared in front of them, a deep frown on his face. He did a double take. “Mr. Silver, why are you here?”

  “Magnolia, Jeff has been doing business with Otherworld folk,” Kevighn told him. “Though I’m certain he has no idea who Brogan is or what this is.”

  All the air left Noli’s body making her feel as if she would suffocate. Jeff knew about the Otherworld? Her eyes widened as she looked up at her brother, suddenly feeling betrayed even though she was just as guilty.

  “My word, you do know about the Otherworld.” Jeff’s jaw dropped.

  “Um, yes, I … I do—and we can’t give this to Brogan. We can’t. Do you know who and what he is?” She waved her parasol at him. It didn’t matter to her what the artifact did. It was the principle of the matter. She didn’t approve of doing business with people who betrayed their own family for power.

  “It’s just a business transaction,” Jeff soothed, taking a step back to avoid being hit by her parasol. “What he does with it is of little importance.”

  “Yes it is, because he’s up to no good.” Kevighn held up another piece from the case and examined it in the mid-morning light streaming between the two buildings.

  “The Otherworld is none of my concern. I’m just in it for the money—and if I don’t give it to him, we don’t get our money. No money means an unhappy crew.” Jeff gave her a firm look as if she were still a little girl and had taken his hammer without permission.

  Her arms fell to her side, the piece still in her hand. “The Otherworld is your concern. It’s symbiotic. If something happens there, it affects our world as well.”

  Jeff laughed. “And I suppose you’re going to tell me that aether is really faery magic.”

  “But it is.” Noli just stared at her brother. How could he think this was all just business? Or a game. The Otherworld played for keeps.

  “Oh, you’re serious.” Jeff deflated. “Wait, isn’t this some sort of odd coincidence? You know Kyran, Mr. Silver being here at this particular moment?”

  Kevighn glanced at her in a way that seemed far to intimate all things considered. “Everything is the will of the Bright Lady.”

  Jeff’s hand went to his face. “You’re one of them as well?

  King Brogan can’t get his hands on this. There’s a reason it was broken up and hidden throughout the mortal realm. Just the fact he’d paying people to track the pieces down is troublesome.” Kevighn’s eyes flashed with passion.

  “Do you think he’s doing it by himself or do you think he is in partnership?” Noli couldn’t suggest out loud that Brogan and Tiana were in this together, but it made sense.

  “I don’t know.” He turned to Jeff. “Let me have this and I’ll get you your money.”

  “Who are you going to sell it to, Kevighn?” Noli remembered his exile.

  “No one. I’m going to dispose of these pieces. Thank the Bright Lady they’re not all here, but who knows how many he already has. As for the money, I know someone who would gladly pay to ensure it remains out of the wrong hands.” He returned the piece to the case.

  “Who?” Jeff eyed Kevighn and the case as if at any moment he’d snatch it from him.

  “The real Kyran.” Kevighn snapped the attaché case shut. “He wouldn’t want Brogan to have these—he could use it to destroy the very fabric of the Otherworld.”

  “Wait, are you trying to tell me that this is some powerful faery artifact, one that could start a war?” Jeff’s eyes brightened. “So, it’s worth a lot of money?”

  Kevighn nodded. “Quite a bit.”

  “Will you actually get us the money? Because if you won’t, I’m not giving you the case.” Sliding the piece into her left glove, Noli strode over to Kevighn and poked him in the chest with her parasol. “I’m not powerless, Mr. Silver.” She recalled what the sprite had done. Noli knew she could do it again herself.

  A wounded look crossed Kevighn’s face. “Do you honestly think I’d double-cross you–you, of all people?” She shook her head. “No, of course not.”

  He’d done a lot of things, but never had he doublecrossed her.

  Jeff put a hand on her arm, his body still blocking Kevighn’s path back to the street. “Noli, you can’t just give him the artifacts. He’s never going to pay us. Since it’s so valuable, perhaps we should bring it to Kyran … Brogan— whatever he calls himself—and request double.

  No.” Noli’s voice sharpened and both men looked at her, startled. “Jeff, you have no idea what Brogan is. Kevighn, you have one hour. You will meet us at Miss Molly’s Teahouse with the money.” She met his eyes and narrowed her own, holding her parasol menacingly. “You cannot hide from me. If you double-cross me I will hunt you down.”

  A smile twitched at the corners of his lips. “You dare to challenge a huntsman, little blossom?”

  His smile, along with that pet name made ire rise within her.

  “Oh, I do. Do you have a problem with that?” Dare dripped from her voice and she kept her parasol poised.

  “You may hunt me all you wish, I don’t mind.” His eyes danced.

  Jeff cleared his throat. “The money, Silver. All I care about is the money.”

  “Two hours. I need two hours and I’ll meet you at Miss Molly’s Teahouse. I promise.” Putting a fist over his heart, he bowed.

  Jeff drew his pistol and aimed it at Kevighn. “I’m only letting you go with my take because my sister seems to trust you. If you don’t come back with my money, so help me, what I will do to you will make shooting seem like mercy.”

  “Point taken.” Kevighn extended his hand to her. “Come with me. That way you may ensure I get your money.”

  Now that would be the prudent choice. However, the last time she’d followed him she’d ended up at his cabin and nearly succumbed to his advances. She knew better now than to fall for his charms, but who knew where he’d lead her.

  “No.” Jeff’s voice cut through her reverie. “Noli is going nowhere with you, Silver.”

  “She’s quite able to answer for herself, Braddock,” Kevighn snapped. “Magnolia?”

  Both men looked at her expectantly.

  Being put in the middle made Noli seethe. “If you don’t mind, gentleman, I’m going to get some tea. Kevighn, you have one hour.”

  Without waiting for either, she brushed pa
st them and onto the streets of San Francisco. She’d find Miss Molly’s Teahouse on her own. As she walked, she slid the piece from her glove into her dress pocket. There was no good reason for keeping it. If she’d thought Kevighn would double-cross her she never would have let him leave with it. After all, she hardly needed Kevighn. Quinn would know what to do—V’s tutor always had an answer. If anyone had a dusty old book about a forgotten artifact it would be him.

  “Noli, Noli wait,” Jeff called from behind her.

  Noli didn’t stop or slow down. When Jeff caught up with her his cheeks pinked with exertion, chestnut curls messy.

  “What did you do?” Jeff asked softly, eyes searching as he kept pace with her.

  “We can trust him.” In some ways she thought of Kevighn as a friend. Either way, he understood exactly why Brogan couldn’t posses anything which would give him any more power than he already had.

  Jeff shook his head. “There’s no trusting a man like that.”

  Noli wasn’t going to grace that statement with a reply.

  “Did the faeries kidnap you?” His voice went soft.

  “Yes.” She looked ahead as she walked, slowing slightly.

  “And Charlotte, the one who gave you the knife and the magic valise, she’s a faery?”

  “Charlotte? No, she was mortal.”

  “Why did they kidnap you?” He said this in seriousness, as if he truly wanted to understand.

  She might as well tell him the truth. “Because they wanted to kill me.”

  Jeff stopped in his tracks. “They what?”

  For a moment she studied his familiar face. He’d changed so much since they were children. His words in the alley about money and doing business proved that.

  “Do you know anything about their culture?” Pain colored her voice as she thought of sweet Charlotte. Of how much James had loved her. “Every seven years they find a mortal girl with something they call the Spark. It’s that something special some people have. You often see it in the great painters, musicians, inventors, and such. They lure the chosen girl into their realm, ply her with beautiful things and attention, sometimes she’s even seduced. Then, they kill her to feed the land, the very magic, that composes their world. Otherwise, the Otherworld, and all those who call it home, will perish.”

  “My word, they wanted to kill you?” His face contorted into a look of sheer terror. “The realm of faerie lives off the blood of girls?”

  “It does. They would have sacrificed me, had Charlotte not volunteered to take my place.” Tears pricked her eyes and she dabbed them with her handkerchief. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  He pulled her close to him. “Noli, none of this makes sense.”

  “It’s the truth. I regret all my dealings with them.” All except for V. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.” She flinched as pain poured through her voice.

  “Who’s Brogan?”

  “He conspired to exile his own brother and take over the throne of the earth court.” She didn’t hide her bitterness.

  Jeff blinked. “He’s the king?”

  “A king, earth court king.” For some reason his ignorance angered her. “Jeff, if you don’t know anything about the Fae, you shouldn’t be doing business with them.”

  “What is Kevighn?” He said Kevighn’s name as if it tasted bad, completely ignoring Noli’s scolding.

  Revealing Kevighn’s role in all this wouldn’t be prudent. “Nothing. Kevighn’s naught but an exile—granted a crafty, resourceful one. But really, why are you doing business with them?”

  “I’m sorry, Noli, but I can’t tell you.” Not one sliver of regret tinged his voice or gleamed in his eyes. “Now, please, why don’t we go have that tea and you can explain all this. Like if Kevighn is an exile how can you be so sure he’ll bring us the money.”

  Noli looked at her brother, crestfallen. “The money? You can’t tell me why you’re stealing dangerous artifacts and selling them to an unscrupulous king and all you want to know is about the money?” She waved her parasol at him. “No, I’m not going anyplace with you. Not until you explain.”

  Picking up her skirts, she ran and didn’t stop until she’d lost Jeff. When she had, she put her back to a wall and caught her breath, refusing to cry or allow her knees to buckle. No, she had no time for this. Right now, she needed to find the teahouse and meet Kevighn before Jeff did. This way she’d get her answers or her brother wouldn’t get the money. If he refused to tell her, she’d go to Vix.

  Yes, if Jeff was stealing things for faeries, odds were the ship’s captain knew all about it.

  Valise in hand, Kevighn hummed a merry tune, step light as he traipsed down the street. Jeff and his mortal crew had no idea what they were about to do. And Magnolia—the fact she trusted him enough to give him the attaché case made his heart soar.

  Now, to find Ciarán.

  If the king wanted to be found a simple finding spell should do the trick. Kevighn followed the spell through the city. A grin spread across his face when he saw where it led and he remembered what Roderick had said about a particular opium den.

  Ah, how he’d had wasted away many a day here at the Red Pearl.

  As he strolled through the front gates he glanced at the yellow house beside it and shuddered. Soulless place that Findlay House.

  Mr. Chun, the owner, opened the door. A puzzled expression crossed his face as he peered at Kevighn. “May I help you?”

  “Mr. Chun, it’s Kevighn Silver. I’m here to meet someone; I believe he’s already here. He goes by Kyran or Ciarán.” Kevighn couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit wounded that Mr. Chun didn’t recognize him considering all the time and money he’d spent here.

  Then again, he’d always dressed impeccably on his visits. Today he looked like an air pirate in need of a bath. How did Magnolia manage to stay so neat and clean? Especially given her position on the ship?

  “Ah, Mr. Silver, it’s been some time.” He looked up and down in a way that made Kevighn think he might not be allowed in. Finally, Mr. Chun stepped aside. “He is in the garden and is expecting you.”

  “I appreciate it.” Kevighn walked through the house into the lavish back gardens filled with nooks and grottos. Even in winter the gardens remained green and beautiful. Through the fence he spied two girls in gray hanging laundry on a line over at the school. Neither laughed nor smiled. What a waste.

  Kevighn felt someone standing behind him.

  “Do you know what that place is?” Kevighn indicated the school on the other side of the fence. “It’s a place where they beat the Spark out of young girls in their prime. Literally.”

  “There’s also a wild portal in their back garden, someone should take care of that,” a mild and familiar voice replied.

  Oh yes, he’d forgotten about that. The portal in the faery tree was what Magnolia’s innocent midsummer’s wish had used to bring her into the Otherworld to begin with.

  “I’d meant to send someone to check on it, but with all the activities surrounding, well, everything, I forgot.” Kevighn still didn’t turn around, apprehension building inside him. Where he hoped Ciarán would welcome him back with open arms, there was the chance he wouldn’t.

  Ciarán had brought him and his sister into their fold to protect them from the wrath of the fire court given Creideamh’s throwback earth talent. Fire court and earth court were foils and bitter enemies. Not to mention, her abilities broke certain laws.

  After Creideamh’s death he’d turned his back on the dark court and taken the position as the high queen’s huntsman to ease his pain.

  “I’ve been expecting you, Kevighn Silver-Tongue,” Ciarán replied. “Though I was expecting you sooner.”

  Kevighn turned to face the man behind him. The smile offered wasn’t cool, predatory, or fake, which offered some relief—but only some.

  He got on one knee in the soft grass. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. You … ” His voice lowered, as did his eyes. “You wer
e right.”

  A chuckle, albeit not a vicious one, reached his ears. “I always am.” Ciarán held out a hand and pulled Kevighn up. “You’ve known ever since Tiana took the throne that your days as huntsman were numbered.” He shook his head. “That one’s not right.”

  Only Ciarán, as Tiana’s opposite, could ever make a comment such as that out loud. She wasn’t nearly as good a queen—or as mentally stable—as her older sister.

  Ciarán was a little older than Kevighn, but young for a dark king. A dangerous job for a dangerous man. Dark hair hung in his amber eyes. Dressed as a gentleman it was difficult to tell exactly how ruthless he was, which was probably the point. For once the dark king wasn’t flanked by henchman, but that didn’t mean they didn’t lurk nearby.

  “I … I hear you have something for me to do?” Kevighn’s chest didn’t untighten. People changed. Certainly, he had.

  “I might.” The corners of his lips twitched.

  “Perhaps it involves some artifacts?” Kevighn remembered that he didn’t have much time. “I have something that might be of interest to you.” He handed the case to him. “King Brogan hired some mortals to steal these. How he knew where they were, I don’t know. Also, he’s using the alias Kyran. I have a feeling you might be interested in that information,”

  Ciarán sat on a nearby bench and opened the case. “Oh my. So that’s who’s been after my quarry. I wondered who had similar business interests but hadn’t been able to discover who.”

  “So I was right in thinking this shouldn’t be in Brogan’s hands—and that you might find them useful?” Kevighn continued to stand, hope taking seed.

  “Indeed.” Ciarán looked up at him. “These are for me?”

  “If you are willing to pay for them. I only ask because the mortals I took them from were depending on the money from Brogan.” Unlike Brogan, Ciarán would use them for the good of the Otherworld.

  First, he’d get the money; he didn’t want to disappoint Magnolia.

  Ciarán’s eyebrows rose. “You care about mortals? Has exile made you compassionate?”