To Kill a King (Hollowcliff Detectives Book 2)

by C. S. Wilde

  Yeah, faeries could be unnecessarily cruel like that.

  There was something else, though. The material… it didn’t resemble the kind of silver found on land. It was way too smooth, too shiny. Mera had seen a crown like this only once.

  On top of her mother’s head.

  Sea silver was rare, however, and never to be gifted to landriders. No waterbreaker in their right mind would’ve done it, even a thousand years ago, before the great war.

  That crown had probably been enchanted by faerie magic to look that ethereal. It was the only logical explanation.

  “The crown ruined my husband.” Seraphina’s voice broke as she sniffed back tears. “It will also ruin my children.”

  “I won’t let that happen,” Mera assured rather abruptly, only to regret it a moment later. Keeping Corvus and Bast out of each other’s throats might be damn near impossible.

  With a broken smile, Seraphina bowed her head to her in thanks.

  “Come on, Mom,” Leon whispered, gently leading his mother past a door.

  Once they were gone, Corvus turned to Bast. “How dare you accuse me? You’ve always been such an insolent shig, Sebastian.”

  “Oh, I’m the shig? That’s precious!” He scoffed. “You came up with an elaborate scheme to kill me!”

  “No, no.” He shook his index finger left to right, his yellow eyes shining wickedly. “That was a bonus. I simply wanted your presence at my wedding. If you survived, that is.”

  Okay, so Corvus was kind of an asshole, she would give that to Bast.

  “I find it awfully convenient that Father died around the same time you put a bounty on my head,” her partner snapped. “Don’t you think?”

  “A remarkable coincidence, though I’m not alone in the list of sons who hated him.” Stepping closer, Corvus set his hands behind his back. “None of us liked the guy, especially you and Leon.”

  “Fuck you,” Bast snarled as darkness filled his irises. “Why on all of Danu’s prairies did you want me at your wedding?”

  Feigning shock, Corvus slammed a hand on his chest. “You’re my brother, Sebastian. I simply wanted you there during one of the most important days of my life.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “A big, smelly one at that.” With a chuckle, he raised his shoulders. “Fine, you caught me. I wanted to rub my happiness on your miserable face, you suket.”

  Mera wasn’t sure if suket meant fucker or cunt. Actually, it might mean both.

  Stepping closer to Corvus, Bast sneered. “That’s the brother I know.”

  “Indeed.” He scowled at her partner with a certain hurt. “All that aside, do you truly believe I’d kill Father? What would I gain from it?”

  Not exactly a denial.

  Bast’s beady, pitch-black irises reflected Corvus. For the first time since they’d gotten here, Mera feared the darkness inside her partner might take over him.

  “You had nothing to gain from Idillia’s death, either,” he remarked with a dangerous stillness, the kind that hid an ocean of pain underneath.

  “Oh, please. As if you’ve never killed innocent people, Sebastian.”

  Bast stepped back, like his brother had slapped him in the face. Quickly recomposing, he poked Corvus’ chest, pushing him backwards. “Your bride, or should I say my bride? She’s pretty upset you used her in your little scheme. I doubt there will be a wedding after all.”

  “Detective Dhay, that’s quite enough,” Mera warned, knowing he’d gone too far. Still, both Dhays ignored her, much to her annoyance.

  Corvus’ lips formed a line, his fists balling. “I helped Karthy forget who you are, malachai. She’ll forgive me for what I did. She wanted you there for our wedding, too.”

  “I believe that.” Bast smiled eagerly. “Maybe she was having second thoughts.”

  Stepping forward, Theodore raised his hands. “Brothers, please. Leon’s coronation will happen soon. We should take this time to reconcile and rejoice under the blessings of Danu.”

  “Shut up, Theo!” Corvus and Bast yelled in unison.

  The three began arguing while Benedict simply watched, downing his wine with an expression of utter boredom in his face. Finding Mera’s attention, he raised his glass at her.

  Before she could wonder why he’d done that, a servant holding a silver tray with a glass of red wine came from behind, slightly bowing at her.

  “Excuse me, madam detective,” said the servant, a banshee with completely white irises, green skin, and shark teeth. Her cerulean hair was tied in a low pony, matching her uniform—a silky navy shirt and pants that looked strikingly fancy. “Prince Benedict wants to say thank you for putting up with this madness.” Blushing, she stared at her own feet. “His words, madam, not mine.”

  Drinking on the job felt wrong, but a bit of alcohol might help Mera get through this hell of a day with her sanity in check. She narrowed her eyes at the three Sidhe ahead, who kept behaving like children.

  Idiots.

  Accepting the glass, she thanked the servant, and raised it at Benedict. The velvety liquid sailed smoothly down her throat as she took the first sip.

  Hmm, it tasted rich and sweet.

  Was wine supposed to be sweet?

  She couldn’t remember, but damn, it tasted amazing. Mera downed two full gulps, and made a note to ask Benedict the brand of the wine.

  “I don’t give a fuck about you or Karthana, Corvus!” Bast yelled, drawing her attention. “Marry her for all I care, but admit to hating me your whole life! Admit to wanting me dead!”

  Corvus raised his shoulders. “That’s far from a secret, isn’t it?”

  Mera giggled quietly, which didn’t seem entirely appropriate. Hell, this wine worked fast.

  “Can’t you both get along?” Benedict complained loudly. “All this arguing is awfully tedious.”

  Corvus craned his neck at Bast. “It truly is, don’t you think, brother? How about we play a game instead?” Turning to Mera, he motioned for her to approach. “Come to me, nobatchi.”

  The word had a loving cling to it. Mera guessed it must mean something close to sweetheart, but if that fuckface thought he could talk to her like that and she would waltz toward him, he was seriously mistaken—her legs were already moving.

  Her grip on the wine glass loosened, and it shattered into a million pieces as it hit the floor. The red liquid spluttered against the white marble.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, her tone soft and breezy. Not at all like her own.

  “You can clean that later, nobatchi. Just come to me.”

  She smiled, happy that Corvus wasn’t mad at her for breaking the glass.

  It made no fucking sense.

  The tingling of foreign magic spread inside her body, coursing through her veins, and Mera fought it as hard as she could, yet the spell had begun taking over her movements—her thoughts, too. Her muddled brain set her feet firmly on the floor, but she kept walking.

  A goofy grin marred her face and she couldn’t pull it back. Mera yelled, but no sound came out of her lips.

  Poseidon in the trenches, what was happening?

  Soon, she forgot why she fought against herself. She only wanted to reach Corvus and do as he said.

  No, no, no!

  Bast glared at her, frozen like a statue. “Corvus, you didn’t,” he croaked.

  Ah, yes. Through her haze, Mera recalled why she’d been trying to scream.

  The prick had enchanted her.

  Chapter 11

  The wine…

  It must’ve been enchanted to muddle her mind. Faerie food and drinks could make humans, plus the occasional supernatural, more compliant and suggestible—not to mention utterly ridiculous.

  Mera’s head drifted between the dread of awareness and the joy of utter bliss, a sensation both wonderful and terrifying.

  “Sarking baku!” Bast yelled as he tried to fetch Mera by her hand, but tentacles of night had already wrapped around his wrists and ankles, holding him in pl
ace. They’d bloomed from the marbled floor, vibrating in tune with the magic that swirled in Corvus’ core, but there was something else… a second layer of power which reinforced the first, and it came from Benedict.

  Two against one.

  Bast could shout and fight as much as he wanted. He wouldn’t be able to move.

  Even bewildered and raging, her partner was beautiful. An easy smile curled Mera’s lips, even though she knew she had no reason to be smiling.

  “What does sarking mean?” she asked.

  Bast gaped at her, utter horror in his eyes as he struggled against his binds. “Kitten, snap out of it. Don’t fear the consequences,” he urged meaningfully. “Free yourself.”

  Snap out of what? She’d never felt so fine in her life.

  Although she tried, Mera couldn’t quite grasp the meaning behind his words. Like they spoke the same language, and yet, not at all. “Free myself?”

  I’m trying, her own voice grumbled from somewhere deep inside her, the sound muffled as if coming from a great distance.

  Mera should’ve known better than to accept an offer from a fae household; the sensible half of her understood that, the half that flickered in and out of existence. But the other half, the dominant one, felt so good.

  Too good.

  Did the source of her joy really matter? Happiness had been such a rarity in Mera’s life. She should grab this chance with all her might.

  Actually, she already had.

  “Sarking means ‘fucking’, chichi,” Corvus explained as he gave her his hand. “But it can also mean godsdamned. It’s all on the intonation, you see.”

  Only Bast called her chichi, which meant kitten. Having someone else say it felt… wrong.

  She took his hand nonetheless.

  “Let go of her, malachai!” Bast roared.

  Ignoring his command, Corvus bowed his head and smelled the curve of Mera’s neck. “Ah, Sebastian. I take back what I said. Your human is exquisite.” He eyed her up and down in a sleazy manner that made Mera’s conscious half want to cover herself, and the aloof one proudly show off. “She’s got a raw and wild beauty, doesn’t she?” At this he turned to Benedict, who simply sipped his wine and shrugged.

  That distant voice in her head grumbled, I’ll make this bastard pay. I’ll make them both pay.

  Pay for what?

  A dazed happiness rushed over Mera, spreading through every crevice of her body. Not a single worry weighed in on her shoulders. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so carefree.

  “Corvus, you will stop this at once,” Theodore demanded as he stomped forward, but Benedict grabbed his wrist and pulled him back as if he was made of air and twigs.

  Theo glared at his twin, who merely shook his head in a warning. It was enough for Danu’s little follower to step back and lower his head.

  The monk is weak, the raging voice inside Mera growled.

  Leaning closer to her, Corvus rolled a russet lock of her hair around his fingers. “Why don’t we put some makeup on that hard face of yours? Maybe a day in a spa, a nice dress, and who knows? You might just be worthy of a Night Prince.”

  “I might?” Silly hope bloomed in Mera’s chest.

  “Of course, dear.”

  Fuck this! Fuck this very much!

  Narrowing his eyes at her, Corvus scratched his chin. “Hmm, I see a bit of awareness in you. Tell me, could you possibly be awake in there?” He knocked on her forehead as if it was a door.

  That distant voice was so dim Mera could barely hear it. Fuuuuuuuuuuck yooooouuuu!

  “Aware?” she asked, a certain confusion taking over her. “I don’t understand.”

  “Corvus, stop right now,” Bast warned, his jaw set as he kept thrashing against his binds.

  His brother ignored the threat, his focus solely on Mera. “Of course you don’t understand, chichi. What do you say, Ben?” Corvus turned to his brother. “I’m taken, but maybe we could wed her to you. Have her drink a cup of wine every day for decades on end.”

  Curling his lips in disgust, Benedict winced. “Not my cup of tea, brother.”

  “Oh, human?”

  “No.” He casually moved his glass in a circle, watching the red liquid dance. “Female.”

  “Ah yes, but it would be a marriage of convenience, you see. We’d have our own spy in the human borough. The light courts do it all the time.”

  Yeah, inter-borough spy games weren’t exactly old news. Even Clifftown, the human borough, had ways of monitoring the others in Hollowcliff, but if caught, those breaking the law went to jail for a long time.

  Mera’s awareness surged closer to the surface, yet not enough to free her from the wine’s enchantment. Bile swirled in her gut, but she couldn’t quite grasp why she felt so bad. She was so happy…

  She might throw up soon, though. If she did, would she let it out or swallow it back, maybe choke on it?

  It depended on what Corvus told her to do.

  “Rae-henai!” Bast growled. “You will pay for this with your life, I swear it!”

  “Oh, do you? If I told your partner to eat my shit,” he walked closer to Bast, “she would. Wouldn’t you, darling?”

  Mera nodded with a moronic grin, when all she wanted was to scream. Another wave of foolish happiness slammed against her, dragging her thrashing consciousness underneath it.

  “And if I wanted to fuck her in front of you, brother, I could do that, too.” He turned to Mera. “What do you say, sweetie pie?” he added in English.

  A strange giddiness took over her, but a terror unlike any other pricked at her lungs.

  “I would enjoy that,” she numbingly answered.

  How about I cut off your dick instead, asshole?

  Bast writhed against Corvus’ and Benedict’s magical binds, his teeth grinding, his canines sharper than a lion’s. His bun undid itself, curtaining his face in moonlight-silver hair that brushed atop his beady black eyes. “I will end you before that, suket!”

  Corvus eyed Bast with complete contempt. “Detective Maurea, will you ask my brother to stop being an idiot? Also, do remove your shirt.”

  She smiled at Bast. “Please stop being an idiot.” Taking off her jacket, Mera began pulling up her shirt.

  No, no, no!

  Thank Poseidon she was wearing a bra.

  With one easy toss, her white shirt pooled on the marbled floor, next to her black leather jacket.

  Bast stopped struggling and went incredibly still. “Kitten, you have to fight this.”

  “She can’t.” Corvus clicked his tongue. “What a shame, chichi. You’re wearing a bra. Remove that as well, yes?”

  Tears pricked her eyes. No matter how hard Mera pushed her hands down, they went up, toward her bra straps. The part of her that guided her movements and feelings couldn’t be happier, though—she was having a blast!

  The other part of her wanted to put a knife into Corvus’ chest.

  “Stop!” Bast roared, his voice breaking midway as his chest heaved with panic. “I’ll do anything you want. Just free her.”

  Corvus raised his hand and Mera stopped moving. Strolling toward her, he draped one arm over her naked shoulders.

  “Anything?” He smacked a kiss on her cheek and Mera felt sick, but that stupid smile didn’t leave her face. “What kind of anything? Perhaps apologize for accusing me of trying to harm my own kin?”

  “Yes, I’ll apologize.” A snap of darkness flashed between him and Corvus, meaning that the promise was sealed. “Please,” Bast’s voice failed. “You don’t understand. She’s my⸺”

  “Enough!” Leon’s voice boomed from behind. Instantly, a crack of darkness swam through the air, releasing Bast from his night binds. “What is going on here?”

  Mera clapped her hands as her partner rushed to her. “Yay!”

  “Are you alright?” he asked, but before she could tell him she never felt better in her life, Bast was already checking her face, then the rest of her body as if she’d been
physically hurt.

  “I’m fine.” Leaning forward, she licked his neck. “You taste good…”

  Bast froze, his Adam’s apple going up and down as he watched her. Shaking his head, he grabbed her shirt and jacket from the floor. Mera barely noticed he was putting them back on her.

  Thank you, the faint voice in her head whispered.

  Stomping into the throne room, Leon slapped Corvus on his face so hard, he spun twice and nearly fell. “How dare you?” he raged. “Need I remind you that Detective Maurea is here representing Hollowcliff? That you could and should go to jail for threatening her, or any female, in such an abhorrent manner?”

  “Brother,” Benedict interrupted. “It was all in good fun. Corvus would never—”

  “You have a sick sense of fun.” His lips formed a line, his disappointment almost a physical blade. “I expected more of you, Ben.”

  Tears glinted in Benedict’s eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but swallowed back his words instead, wiping the corner of his eyelids with the palm of his hand.

  “Defend your precious little brother, Leon, like you always have!” Corvus pointed at Bast, a bitter scowl marring his features. “He accused me of murder! He insulted Karthana! I’ve killed people for less!”

  “Oh, poor Karthana,” Mera mumbled to Bast. “Why is she offended? She’s such a nice fae…”

  He hugged Mera tighter against him. “Never mind.”

  Leaning her head on his chest, she rejoiced in the warmth of his embrace.

  Hmm, nice…

  “Why are you such a shig to Bast?” Leon’s tone wavered with a deep sadness. “Do you hate him because he stole the title of little brother from you when he was born? You humiliated an innocent woman just to spite him,” he added with disgust.

  Corvus gaped at him, as if Leon had just stabbed him in his chest. “I… I-it was never that simple. Bast started it!”

  “Kneel!” the future Night King bellowed, his voice thundering across the open hall.

  Corvus fell harshly on his knees. He winced in pain, but kept his teeth gritted, holding the scream that clearly pushed out in his throat.

  “He’s hurt,” Mera noted, that familiar aloofness still holding her under. She went to help Corvus, but Bast wrapped one arm around her waist, stopping her from taking a step forward. Leaning back against his strong chest, she forgot what she’d been about to do.