by C. S. Wilde
Well, at least he acknowledged he was a train wreck.
“You mentioned something about the crown to Leon,” she pointed out carefully. “Can you tell me more about it?”
“Not really.” He shrugged. “I meant to say power changes people.”
“Do you believe Leon has changed?”
Shrugging, he shook his head. “Not particularly. He will, however. Every ruler does.” He let out a long sigh. “The crown itself has a rather interesting story. It doesn’t actually belong to the Night Court.”
“It doesn’t?” she asked, feigning interest. Maybe if she gave him room to talk, whatever he kept from her would come to the surface.
He leaned forward as if he was about to tell her a juicy secret. “Legend says, it was a gift from the sea fae.”
Mera’s blood chilled to absolute zero.
Sea fae. Sirens.
Waterbreakers.
“The crown is named Crown of Land and Sea. Mermaids gave it to the Night King millennia ago for safekeeping, until the day they call Regneerik.” His eyes shone with excitement as he explained. “See, many historians believe Regneerik is about the end of the world, but some say it’s about new beginnings. A fresh start. The Night Court, of course, buried the story. A king shouldn’t wear a crown that isn’t his own.” He tapped his temple knowingly.
It felt odd hearing the lore and religious terms she’d grown up with, being repeated to her on land. Also, considering the bad blood between them, the fact landriders studied her kind was astounding.
“Is that so?” Mera asked, trying to hide the sheer terror that had taken over her.
“Indeed. On the day of Regneerik—what land fae call Argeddon—it is said that the promised one will rise to unite all kingdoms… or destroy them. The wording is a bit confusing on that part.” His face scrunched up as he waved his hand. “Anyway, on that day, the crown will be given to the Ahai-ni, and he shall rule land and sea.”
Ahai-ni. The promised one.
“Sounds far-fetched,” she chortled with fake amusement.
“I’ll admit the legend doesn’t make much sense, especially since the creation of Tagrad already unified every kingdom into one… kind of.”
“Mermaids are still banished,” she muttered mostly to herself.
“Quite right.” He raised his finger at her. “Which means the prophecy could technically be fulfilled. Either that, or the Ahai-ni will kill us all. Impossible to say, really.”
Mera understood why Charles Grey had been hired as a diplomat in Lunor Insul. He clearly loved fae lore and history. Being here must have been a dream come true for him, at least in a distant past. Now, he was simply an addict without any control over his life, even if a shadow of the diplomat he used to be remained, buried under all of his mishaps.
Her heart thumped in her chest as Charles’ version of Regneerik whirled in her mind. She’d never heard of it before; never knew about a crown of land and sea. Air stopped midway in her lungs when Mera remembered how Madam Zukova had called her.
Queen of Waves and Dust.
Land and sea.
All nonsense, surely. The possibilities for interpretation were endless. Besides, Charles’ stories were silly lore, nothing more.
“Are you alright, Detective?” he frowned at her with genuine concern. “You look awfully pale.”
Swallowing dry, she nodded. “I’m fine. Just low blood pressure.”
“Pity I can’t help you with that.” His eyes shone with malice as he finished his tea.
Well, better get her act together.
“What are you hiding, Charles?” Mera pushed, her patience wearing thin. They’d wasted enough time with silly old stories.
Before he could answer, the door to a back room opened and out came Benedict, covered in pajamas and a blanket.
The Night Prince dragged himself into the room, his gaze lost as if he were half-dead.
Standing up at once, Charles hurried towards him. “Dear, you should be resting.”
Mera noticed the swollen bite marks on Benedicts’ neck, the paleness of his skin. This wasn’t someone in mourning, or depressed.
This was a fae on the verge of death.
It had been Charles’ secret; what Mera’s gut-feeling had warned her about.
The bloodsucker was killing Bast’s brother.
Mera stood, her hand hovering over her gun. “I’ll take Benedict back to the palace, if you don’t mind.” She motioned for him to come closer. “Prince Dhay?”
He didn’t react.
“Ben?”
He slowly blinked through his haze, only then realizing she was there. “Hello, Detective,” he slurred, his forehead wrinkling as if he tried hard to focus. “When did you arrive?”
“Not long ago.” She stretched her hand to him. “I’m heading out. Would you like to come with me?”
Deep down, some part of him must have known he would die if he didn’t. Nodding slowly, he went to her.
“Sebastian doesn’t deserve you,” Ben mumbled, his blanket falling from his shoulders. He didn’t seem to realize it as he stepped on the fabric, dragging one sluggish foot after the other. “I hurt you. The enchanted wine… I’m sorry.”
“I forgive easily, it seems.”
“Stop!” Charles growled, showcasing his fangs. “Detective, Ben should stay here.”
“No, he shouldn’t,” Mera snapped. “I bet his nightblood tastes amazing, doesn’t it?”
“I never gave it to him before,” Ben assured with a hazed grin. “I thought he couldn’t handle it, but Charles deserves it. He’s such a good friend…”
Well, fuck. The vamp was hooked on what must feel like heroine on steroids.
“I’d never hurt Ben, but I need his blood!” Charles closed his fists, his irises becoming clear red.
She believed him. Addicts rarely meant to hurt others, but often did it anyway. “Charles,” Mera warned. “Get it together.”
“He couldn’t hurt a fly.” The aloof Night Prince kept trudging toward Mera. “He’s a good one, our Charles.”
A bit closer…
Barking a beastly sound, the vamp’s fangs grew longer and sharper. “You’re not taking Ben anywhere!”
Pulling out her gun, she aimed at his heart. “Hurry up, Benedict.”
Back in Clifftown, Mera had handled her fair share of bloodthirsty vamps, hunting in human territory. They weren’t much of a challenge—usually an iron bullet to the heart or head was enough to end or hinder them, depending on how old they were. Yet, she didn’t want to do that to Charles Grey.
If anything, the vamp needed help, not a bullet.
Charles was about to pounce, when tentacles of night and stars wrapped around his wrists and ankles, pulling him to the floor. His chest and forehead smashed onto the marble. The bloodsucker writhed against the binds, but the tentacles were stronger.
The door slung open from behind Mera, revealing Bast against the light. Charles yelped as sun beams slammed against his face, giving him a reddish blush.
“Wondered if you might need backup, partner.” Bast surveyed the scene for a moment, his eyes falling on his brother. A flash of concern passed in his blue gaze. “Is he alright?”
“He’s safe now.” She smiled at Benedict who nodded slowly, his attention on Charles Grey.
“My poor friend…” he mumbled before raising his head, as if he’d just remembered something. “Did you find Corvus yet?”
“Yes,” Bast stepped inside, his night keeping Charles trapped on the floor. “He’s back at the precinct.”
Benedict blinked. “You caught him?”
“No, he turned himself in,” Mera answered instead, still aiming her gun at Charles Grey as a precaution, but the vamp was limp and panting on the floor.
Bast’s darkness drained him quickly, so he’d be out in a matter of seconds.
Benedict glared at them, utter horror flashing over his hazy stare. “Corvus surrendered himself… and you left him alone?”
He didn’t need to complete the thought. Everyone knew Corvus never did something without a reason.
Gasping, Mera turned to Bast. “Tell Leon—”
“Already done,” he assured. “Ben, Big Brother is coming for you, so stay put.”
Charles Grey lost consciousness a moment later, so Mera shoved her gun in its holster, and jumped into Bast’s arms.
“Don’t leave me alone with him,” Benedict muttered, a cry in his tone.
“Charles won’t wake up for days, brother.” Bast assured as his wings unfolded from behind his back. “Don’t worry.”
In one swoop, he took Mera through the open door, zinging into the sky.
It didn’t take them long to land before the precinct. Hurrying inside, Mera hoped their fears had been unfounded. That Corvus would be waiting for them from behind bars, wearing that superior, irritating grin on his face.
But the bastard’s cell was empty.
Chapter 24
If ocean water could morph into silk, it would have been used to make Mera’s sea-green dress. An insane comparison, surely, but it was the only way to describe the fabric of her nightgown. The sleeveless dress formed a “V” neckline that showed more cleavage than she was used to, falling down her waist with the grace of a gentle waterfall.
Twirling around, Mera watched herself in her bedroom’s standing mirror.
The gown might be gorgeous, but it was seriously impractical. She’d had to attach her gun to a leather belt around her thigh, literally out of view and out of reach.
Bast should’ve known better when he’d dropped the black box on her bed without saying a word, then left to his room to get ready for Leon’s coronation.
Well, Mera couldn’t go in a T-shirt and jeans to the most important ball in Lunor Insul. Sure, she might be Hollowcliff authority, but Leon had insisted that tonight, she and Bast were his guests.
She appreciated the thought, but they were working a case. It had been three days since Corvus escaped, and still no sign of him. The chance he might show up during Leon’s coronation was enormous, and yet, she and Bast had to appease the king-to-be.
Diplomacy, ugh.
So, here she was on a mission, resembling a freaking princess, and damn close to defenseless.
Great…
Fixing her hair in a loose bun that braided twice over her head, Mera couldn’t help a satisfied grin. Ruth loved playing with her hair when Mera was younger, which meant that she had picked up a thing or two about grooming herself.
As she braided her locks, she admired the drop-shaped earrings that matched the color of her dress.
They must have cost a fortune. She had no idea how Bast had arranged for the clothes and jewelry that quickly, but it couldn’t have been legal.
Once she was done, Mera made her way out of her room.
Bast stood in the living room, waiting for her. He wore a black suit with a silken onyx shirt. Silver embellishments decorated the hem and buttons of the suit, matching perfectly with his hair, which waved over the left side of his face down to his shoulders.
Her heart skipped a beat as she took in the sight of him. With his straight posture and fitted clothes, Bast looked absolutely regal.
‘And hot as hell,’ her siren added. ‘Hmm, those bad boy vibes…”
His stare burned through Mera while he slowly admired her, from the top of her head to the tip of her shoes. Smiling softly, he tilted his head left. “You look like a poem, kitten.”
Bast had many talents, but he excelled at turning her knees to jelly.
“Thanks.” She studied her shoes, sea-green to match the dress. “You have good taste, Detective.”
His attention never unlocked from her. “I know.”
Molten fire burned her cheeks. Clearing her throat, Mera patted her dress. “How did you get all this with a government salary? Did you rob a bank? I’d have to report you if you did…”
A busty laugh burst from his lips. “I might be a disowned prince, but I have some wealth. Besides, assassins are anything but underpaid.” His shoulders rose and fell casually. “I had… investments.”
“Investments? You lived in the slums of Tir Na Nog not long ago.”
“I lived there for a while, yes. That house is one of my many properties, and a personal favorite, actually. It helped Stella and I when we arrived in the continent. Also, Father sent a new assassin every week. No one expects a prince to live in poverty, so I always had the element of surprise.” He seemed to consider it twice. “I guess this proves money isn’t everything.”
“Spoken as someone who has loads of it.” She crossed her arms. “Are you serious about this, or just fucking with me?”
“Fucking with you? Never. Fucking you?” He gave her a mischievous grin that reverberated between her thighs. “That’s something to look forward to.” Before Mera could blush any harder, he offered her his arm. “Shall we?”
Silver and white ribbons lavishly decorated the palace, glittering like precious jewels. They matched perfectly with the stars shining on the clear night outside, beyond the palace’s open arches and ample halls.
Glistening faerie lights floated near the ceilings, casting the halls and stairways into daylight. They turned the castle into nothing short of a lighthouse which twirled around the tallest mountain.
Following the crowd into the throne room, Mera wondered if all this pomp and circumstance was how coronations went back in the day. Back when Tagrad was nothing but a dream, and faeries basically ruled the land.
The moon shone brightly above, as if the night itself blessed Leon’s coronation. From this high up, it seemed like she could reach the silver orb by simply standing on the tip of her toes.
When she and Bast reached the throne room, Mera gasped. Night fae dressed in fancy gowns and suits crowded the space. Some dresses resembled stars falling from the sky, others the dawn and twilight. A couple of suits reminded her of a glass of wine, others dew drops atop a leaf in the morning, and some could only be described as wind gusts or waves crashing.
Mera wondered what kind of magic must’ve been imbedded in those fabrics. In her own dress, too.
She found Karthana and Raes standing on the far left, near one of the many arches that opened to the outside. Corvus’ betrothed wore a long-sleeved purple gown with golden embellishments. Her plum-colored hair was clipped behind, draping down her bare back. Compared to everyone else’s, Karthana’s attire was simple and yet beautiful.
It fit her awfully well.
Her father stood beside her, wearing a navy suit that shifted to lighter gradients. Like fire burning, if fire were blue. Raes watched everything and everyone around the ballroom with piercing hawk-eyes.
Ah, he was also expecting a visit from Corvus. Maybe that was why Karthana had decided to come.
To see him again.
Raes’ keen gaze found Bast and Mera amongst the crowd, and he nodded, a clear sign that he was watching for trouble.
Bast nodded back at him.
His daughter, however, didn’t acknowledge their presence in any way. Considering they hoped to arrest Corvus, Mera couldn’t exactly blame her.
Karthana had called off her engagement after Bast’s brother became a fugitive, but she clearly still cared greatly about Corvus. It might not be betrothed love, but it was love nonetheless.
Soft, melodic tunes echoed throughout the throne room as servants with trays carrying finger food and drinks began milling about.
Mera had eaten before, of course. After drinking enchanted wine, she’d be damned if she ever accepted anything offered in a fae household again.
“I hope Corvus doesn’t try something tonight.” She nodded to the guards standing near every entrance of the space, and also at the base of the dais with the ivory throne. “Escaping would be impossible. This place is more guarded than Fort Mox.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to escape,” Bast countered as he surveyed the crowded hall. “But yes, Corvus would have to be stupid to t
ry something tonight, and as much as I hate admitting it, stupidity isn’t one of his traits.” He seemed to consider it twice. “Doesn’t mean he won’t try, though.”
“Well, it’s about time we made a proper arrest. I’m not sure if Corvus is our guy, though,” she muttered as she searched the crowd for anything that seemed strange.
“A proper arrest?” He arched one eyebrow. “Doesn’t Charles Grey count?”
“He needs help, that’s all.” She shrugged. “A week behind bars should be good for him. Vampires are stronger than humans, and they recover faster too. His detox will be painful, yet quick.”
And maybe, over time, Charles would return to his former self. Mera could only hope.
Bast shoved his hands in his pockets as they casually strolled across the ballroom. “You keep thinking Corvus is innocent. Why?”
“He turned himself in so we wouldn’t attend the ceremony,” she said mindlessly. “Sure, his pursuit of the throne makes sense, if he’s ambitious enough. But something is missing.”
“What if he has an accomplice?” Bast suggested. “Maybe Corvus would have his henchman do the dirty deed while we took him to the continent. It would be the perfect crime.”
Mera’s eyes narrowed at him. “You really believe your brother is the devil, don’t you?”
“You would agree if you knew him.”
The idea came to her the way lightning strikes, and she gripped Bast’s arms tightly.
“Kitten?” He asked, his brow wrinkling. “What’s wrong?”
“What if he’s planning an attack on all fae here tonight?” she whispered, her blood chilling and a cold sweat breaking on her forehead.
It might be extreme, even for Corvus, but it wasn’t impossible. If he was indeed infected by nightblood, if in fact he wanted to take over the throne… why not do it with a bang? Kill Leon plus his supporters in one go?
“That means Corvus would’ve tried to protect us by giving himself in.” Bast chortled. “No, kitten. Not in a million years.”
“But he could⸺”
“He couldn’t.” He caressed her hand gently, his gaze calming and assuring her. “Trust me. That’s not his angle. Besides, Corvus isn’t the type to perform mass attacks.”
