The Deadly Fae

by Terry Spear

“Good. But she need not worry about me. I have no designs on Prince Creshion. In truth, we would not suit one another even if we tried.”

  Lord Eaton laughed out loud. “Mayhap not, my lady. But the prince has never taken a lady under his protection, declaring her as his ward, brought her to the castle, and kept her securely under his wing, as he has done with you.”

  “His ward?” she asked darkly. When had that happened? She was no longer to be his lover but his ward? She didn"t need his protection! And if she was to be his ward, that meant women like Lady Fabian believed they could do what they wished concerning gaining the prince"s affections. Which shouldn"t have mattered to Sessily, but no matter how much she told herself it shouldn"t, it did.

  “Yes, my lady. He said he saved you from ruffians.”

  “Ruffians? One thief,” she said, irritated that the prince would elevate his heroics and pretend that she did not have a pixie"s brain to deal with the clunk of a man. Given a few more seconds, she would have taken the thief down herself. But not in a fatal way.

  Lord Eaton smiled. “I think he has met his match in you.”

  They grew silent as Creshion finally fairly shoved two men out of his way and stood before her. “I see you have met my cousin, the duke of Easton.” He spared another harsh look for his cousin. “So good of you to entertain Lady Sessily for me—”

  “She did all of the entertaining, I assure you, Prince Creshion,” the duke said easily.

  “Since you were occupied,” Sessily said, trying not to sound annoyed, but her gaze surveyed the room as she looked for the redheaded Lady Fabian. She was standing with a group of women, who were all looking at Sessily, claws extended, the gold showing in at least three of the women"s eyes. The women were all about Sessily"s age, dressed in shimmering fae gowns of light and dark, of emerald greens and dusky pinks, of pale sky blues and midnight, too. Sessily was certain they were interested in gaining favor with the prince themselves.

  “We were talking about Lady Marguerite,” Lord Eaton said.

  “Ah.”

  “And some such nonsense about gambling debts,” the duke remarked, brows raised, waiting for clarification.

  “Never gamble,” the prince said, sparkles in his eyes, a sure fire sign he was highly amused at his deceiving everyone in Lady Marguerite"s household.

  “I told the duchess that.”

  “Why did you lie to Lord Davenport and why did you have to see Lady Marguerite also?”

  Sessily asked, unable to cloak the irritation in her voice.

  Not that she had any reason to be so irritated with him. After all, she had deceived everyone about why she was there, also. But at least he knew now why she had been there. He, on the other hand, had never told her the truth about his own deeds.

  “Ah, the truth,” he said, offering his hand to her.

  She hesitated.

  “Dance with me? The queen and king have arrived.”

  Her skin chilled, but she didn"t want to look around for feat they"d be watching her.

  No one had announced their arrival. Where were they?

  Guessing at her surprise, Creshion said, “They are seated on their thrones on the dais over there,” he said, motioning with his head. “They often arrive unannounced. The queen prefers it that way, using fae travel to appear at her throne so she can watch her courtiers undetected for several minutes before the musicians get word and the dancing begins.” He took Sessily"s hand.

  “I will tell you my secrets.” He gave the duke a withering glance. “I don"t wish to bore Lord Eaton of my tale.”

  “Which means he will tell me later and would rather dance with his… ward,” the duke said. “You"ve been busy, Prince Creshion. The queen will not be pleased.”

  “I don"t live my life to please the queen,” Creshion said, and Sessily noted the bitterness in his voice.

  “Of course,” the duke said, all knowing, his smile just as evil as any that Creshion could offer, bowed most eloquently, then stalked off to speak with another courtier.

  Would the duke tell the man he was speaking to that she was of the royal house of Denkar? She realized she still hadn"t given her name to anyone except Lord Eaton. Had Creshion told the redheaded woman?

  “Does he know what you intend to have done?” Sessily whispered to Creshion.

  He pulled her closer and brushed his lips against her ear, sending a waterfall of heat cascading through her blood. “No, only you and I know what must be done. No one will ever need to know the truth.”

  He whirled her around the voluminous dance floor from one end to the other as if showing her off to every courtier in the regime. The dance was fast-paced and she was dizzy with the way he twirled her about and she loved it. She"d never danced with anyone as agile as Creshion, who matched her own speed and agility to a tea.

  “More?” he asked, looking as though he would be pleased to dance with her all night long.

  The next dance was slower paced, and she tilted her face up to his and smiled. “More.”

  “You are beautiful. Have I said so before, Sessily?” he asked, looking down at her with pure adoration.

  No one had said that to her but him. “Maybe once before? I like hearing it from you. You have my permission to do so often.”

  He smiled and the look was warm and inviting. For the first time, she thought the hard shell that he wore was beginning to show fine cracks.

  But she worried about something more. “You know,” she softly said, running her hand over his royal blue satin tunic, “when she is gone, it won"t make the pain any less painful.”

  “I understand,” he said, his blue eyes softening. “I"ve finally come to believe this is so, but her reign of terror has to end.” He lifted Sessily"s hand to his lips and kissed it with a long, lingering, meaningful kiss.

  Her blood heated to volcanic proportions. Curious as to how his courtiers were viewing the prince"s handling of her, she cast a glance about.

  Everyone appeared shocked. Dancers had stopped dancing. The couples stood in the middle of the floor staring at them. Those who remained at the edge of the dance floor looked just as surprised, mouths agape, eyes huge, a few with rings of gold flaring around dark pupils.

  If Creshion thought he was to pass her off as his ward, he wasn"t handling the matter right.

  She sighed. So be it.

  She rose on tiptoes and kissed Creshion full on the lips. If his courtiers wished to talk about something, she might as well give them something to really talk about.

  He pulled her closer, dancing slower, kissing her mouth lightly at first, deepening the kiss as if deepening their relationship.

  She knew it could never be. Not between a duchess of the Denkar fae and the royal crown prince of the cobra fae. Still, she enjoyed the closeness she felt with the man who could be the death of her—and very soon.

  She pulled free of the kiss and continued to dance with him, her head against his chest, listening to his rapidly beating heart, loving the warmth and feel of him as he slowly moved her across the floor. She didn"t look to see if anyone was dancing yet. Nor had she seen the king or queen yet. She was dying to know what expressions the king and queen wore. She knew they had to be watching their every move.

  Pushing the thought from her mind, she wondered if maybe just being with Creshion on their travels here had helped him to see the world in a better light. She could only hope.

  She thought back to the way he had given her stable master a new lease on life. “Thank you,” she said quietly, “for saving Travis"s life.”

  He shook his head. “You did that, dear lady. You saved him with kindness.”

  “I could not have healed him like you did,” she protested. “So thank you.”

  He looked uncomfortable with receiving praise. Did no one ever give him any? Maybe no one had ever told him he was beautiful either. The women swarmed all over him because he was the crown prince. But had anyone genuinely told him how pleasant he was to look at?

  She smiled
up at him. “Have I told you how beautiful you are? In a dark and dangerous way?”

  He chuckled. “I don"t believe so. Though I"m well pleased you think so.”

  He seemed more than pleased, and she was glad she finally had admitted it to him. “I haven"t seen your aunt-by-marriage or your uncle"s faces yet. Have you?”

  “My uncle is intrigued and has been speaking with his advisor, no doubt wanting to learn just who you are. My aunt"s eyes have been glowing gold ever since she set her gaze on you.

  She"s sure you"re the one who I intend to make my wife. If we should have a child…”

  Sessily frowned at Creshion.

  He laughed. “It is what she would be concerned with. If we should have a child, our child would rule someday instead of one of her own, since she has been unable to conceive.”

  “Because she is a changeling, not of the fae kind, do you think?” Sessily asked, surprised.

  She had never heard of a changeling giving birth to a fae, though it wasn"t something she"d really investigated. Maybe they couldn"t do it.

  “She has never been happy with the notion that her own offspring would not rule in her stead when she dies.”

  “What are her powers?” Sessily whispered into Creshion"s ear as if she was speaking sweet-nothings and not about how she was attempting to learn what she could about the queen to terminate her.

  Chapter 12

  Creshion looked a little surprised Sessily would ask about the queen"s powers. He probably thought she already had heard something about the queen"s abilities. All she had known was she was a deadly adversary, but not how she had killed the fae who had angered her.

  He took a deep breath. “My uncle has the power to control fire. He gifted his elemental ability to Quinnette. Every room has a fireplace, candles, torches, some form of fire. She can take a spark of a flame and turn it into an inferno and direct it at one individual with such precision, she can destroy him or her without touching anyone or anything else. Else our walls and floors would be covered with scorch marks. She is extremely short tempered.”

  Sessily thought about that for a while as she danced, the music ending and another waltz beginning. Even if she “softened” the queen up a bit with a sleeping potion before she terminated her, the queen could still direct fire, but if she was drugged, her aim could be off, and innocent bystanders could be injured or incinerated. Sessily couldn"t throw a dart at the queen when they were among other courtiers, and she suspected the woman would be too wary to meet with her alone. Even if the queen intended to kill Sessily, the queen would ensure she had witnesses, Sessily was fairly certain.

  She probably couldn"t get too close to the queen either, to jab her with a poisonous pin.

  But poisons weren"t her only claim to fame. “Is she faithful to your uncle, excluding all others from her bed?” she asked Creshion.

  She knew not all queens were faithful and their husbands didn"t care as long as they had the same freedom.

  “She is. My uncle would kill her if he thought otherwise. He brought her here, after all.

  Gave her fae magic. Made her one of us, as much as he could. She cannot fae travel, or glamour herself as we can do. She cannot return to the human world unless my uncle takes her there. So he would be more than incensed if she found another lover. Believe me, she will never do such a thing.” Creshion studied Sessily"s face as she thought more on the matter. “You wear the most devilish of expressions. What are you thinking?”

  “I may have a way to solve your problem.”

  “Aye?”

  “Is there a man who could be her lover? Someone who is as wicked as she is? Someone who you would have paid an assassin to eliminate if the woman had not been your focus?”

  “Grieves,” Creshion said, without hesitation.

  “Who is he and why did he come to mind so quickly?”

  “He is like her lapdog. He is a spy and tells her what she wants to hear, who she should kill, even if there is no reason for the killing. She listens to him, whether she believes him or not.

  She enjoys the way he fauns all over her. Maybe he hopes the king will die, and he will replace him. He is a baron who would be next on my list, once she is gone.”

  “He is on my list then,” Sessily said so sweetly, Creshion raised his brows.

  “First the woman,” he insisted.

  “They will go down together,” she said.

  “I love the challenge in your words and in your expression, Sessily,” he whispered against her ear, nuzzling her skin with a loving touch.

  I love your touching me, she wanted to say back, but held her tongue, not wanting to spoil the moment, but knowing she had a job to do, which was the only reason she was here. “Show me this Grieves so that I might plan my mission.”

  ***

  An assassin"s plan to eliminate a target was often improvised to keep the assassin"s identity a secret. But Creshion wanted to know in the worst way what his angel assassin had in mind. In no way did he want the hateful queen to incinerate Sessily with just a wave of her finger. He wanted Sessily safe from harm.

  And he didn"t want her to meet the charming Grieves.

  With reluctance, Creshion guided Sessily to where he"d seen Grieves standing the last time they"d danced across the floor. Grieves never stood near the queen when the king was around.

  Creshion drew nearer to where Grieves stood by a male fae. Grieves was always careful not to charm the ladies when the queen was about for fear he would lose the queen"s favor and be the next one on her terminal list. But Creshion noticed the leering look on the fae"s face as Grieves watched Sessily move closer.

  Look all you want, Creshion wanted to say. My lovely assassin has the gravest plans for you. At least he thought so. Had Sessily intended to lay the blame of the queen"s death on Grieves? Creshion approved of the notion.

  Grieves shifted his gaze from Sessily to Creshion, catching his eye. He bowed his head in reverence. Reverence, as if the baron truly showed any deference to Creshion"s title. Grieves thought he was above all but the king, in the queen"s estimation.

  “He is the one in the pale blue tunic, the blond fae with the sharp blue eyes,” Creshion whispered to Sessily.

  She gave Creshion one of her brightest smiles. She fairly glowed in the light of the castle, as if the task before her made her whole, gave her purpose, and he realized then how much this job meant to her. She said she"d wanted to retire. He suspected there was more to what she wished than she would admit to.

  He realized also that he had one purpose in being, to bring down the queen who had murdered his parents so long ago. What would be his focus after that?

  Keeping his angel assassin free from harm.

  He tightened his hold on her as he moved her farther away from Grieves and back in the direction of the queen and king"s thrones.

  Sessily was looking at Creshion curiously, and he smiled at her. “You are a treasure, you know?”

  She gave him a soft grunt. “You only say so because you need me to do a job for you.”

  “Oh, aye,” he said, enjoying the sparkle in her dark brown eyes. He knew she teased him, and he was fairly certain she knew he wasn’t teasing about what she meant to him.

  But then again, where women were concerned, it was best not to assume. He cleared his throat. “I meant what I said.”

  She sighed deeply. “I know you do, Creshion. But you know this ends between us once my job is done here.”

  “Aye,” he said, but he couldn"t help smiling, and he could see the way the sparkles of fae delight that his eyes now cast danced off her dark eyes. He wasn"t through with Sessily, no matter what she thought. “So what is the plan?”

  When she didn"t say, as he feared she might not, he insisted she tell him the plan. How could he protect her if she did not?

  “Sessily, I must know what your plan is.”

  “An assassin never reveals the plan.”

  He let out his breath in exasperation. “To anyone else, mayhap. B
ut you will tell me.”

  She grinned at him. “You know, Prince Creshion, you are so demanding. There"s this little issue of payment for services rendered when the job is done that we still have not agreed upon. And you have not told me why you went to see Lord Davenport either.”

  “I feared my rash cousin, Duke Eaton, would get himself into some difficulty if I did not promise to see Lady Marguerite and ensure she was safe. Her brother, Alexander, though a sphinx fae and relatively peaceful in nature, had intimated the situation may soon change wherein Eaton might again pursue the lady. So I had to learn the circumstances of why Alexander thought this was so. Imagine my surprise to find a thief dressed like a boy pursuing Lord Davenport. I even had the notion that Alexander had hired you to find evidence on Lord Davenport of some sort, that would cause him trouble.”

  “Until you saw me visiting with his lordship.”

  “Yes. I thought perhaps that Alexander had hired you to steal something from the household that would incriminate—” Creshion stopped speaking, then frowned. “He hired you?

  A woman?”

  She tilted her chin up and gave him a chilly glower. “He hired an assassin from the assassin"s guild. Well, not really from the assassin"s guild. But in any event, yes, he hired me.

  But do not tell him who did the deed.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.”

  “If it wasn"t, you know what I can do about it.” Her expression instantly turned bright and cheerful again.

  He laughed. “You love your work too much.”

  “I never thought about it in that way. I always thought of it as just a job. But you might be right.”

  Creshion saw his uncle crook a finger at him to join him at his throne. He stiffened, not liking this. The questioning would begin. “Are you ready to meet my uncle, King Olaf?”

  “This is when the job gets tough,” she grumbled.

  Creshion guided her across the floor to the waiting royal couple, his aunt-by-marriage wearing red that clashed with her fiery red hair. He thought she looked like a red demon without the horns and spiked tail. He never could figure out why his uncle took such a liking to the woman when she had lived as a human in Baltimore, Maryland.