“Come along, cher, the Sage has said enough. Your answers can be found along our quest, I have no doubt.” His voice was calm, and reasonable but still I wanted to argue with him. Why couldn't I just ask now?
But when I glanced back to the Sage, I found him still, like he'd been petrified. The tree was moving slowly, wrapping its limbs around him once more and pulling him back into its depths bit by bit until no sign of the Sage remained visible.
“Now what?” Amelie asked, leading the way back to where we had left the airboat.
“We can't do jack shit until the moon is full,” Arlo growled, and I shivered at his bestial tone. “Which ain't tonight.”
“We'll head back to da clubhouse,” Reece decided, hopping onto the airboat and holding out a hand to help me on. “Don't know 'bout you, but I could sure use a drink, me.”
Amelie made a noise, and pushed Arlo out of the way to take the seat beside me in the front of the boat. “Ciarah, babe. I don't want you pissed off or thinking I'm double-crossing you, I'm not. But Rafe will need to know at least some of what is going on here.”
“No fucking way,” Arlo snapped. “You breathe a fucking word of what you just heard—”
“And what, Arlo?” Amelie cut him off, her eyes turning hard as stone, and her teeth sharpening to deadly points. “What will you do to me? Do not forget who you speak to.”
To my genuine surprise, Arlo backed down, sliding back into his seat in the row behind us and saying nothing. His jaw was clenched tight though, and I could see a muscle in his cheek jumping with anger.
“Anyway,” Amelie, turned back to me without a trace of the terrifying enforcer she'd just presented to Arlo, “I wanted to be open with you, babe.”
My head tilted, and I pondered this information. Of course her loyalties lie with her Alpha; I couldn't be mad about that. And I was sure his interests were in restoring the Veil for his own people's good.
“Actually, I would like to meet and discuss this with your alpha myself,” I announced, and her eyes widened a fraction.
“No,” Reece snapped, and I jerked around in surprise to find all three biker men glaring with hardened expressions.
“We can't risk you entering pack land, Ciarah,” Killian explained, “it's too dangerous. Too uncertain where their loyalties lie.”
Amelie's lips tightened but she gave a tiny nod. “He's right. I wouldn't risk your safety, Keeper.”
Part of me, maybe the old part? I wasn't sure. But part of me flared hot with outrage that my subjects thought to tell me what I could or couldn't do. Truth shone through their words of concern though, and my better judgement prevailed. This time.
“Fine, then they will need to come to us.” I met Reece's gaze, unblinking, making it clear I wouldn't be budged on this.
He stared back at me a long, tense moment before sighing heavily and scrubbing a hand through his red-brown hair. “Fine. Kill, organize a gathering with the Louisiana Wolves.”
“Laissez les bons temps rouler,” Killian murmured, scratching at his dark stubble and watching me with his ice-blue eyes.
Arlo grunted a noise that I couldn't decipher the emotion behind, and looked away into the distance as Reece kicked the engine on and steered us out of the shallows we’d been stopped in.
“I hope you know what you're doing, Ciarah,” Amelie said as the wind picked up and began whipping our long hair around like a frog in a blender.
I hoped I did, too. But something I was sure of, was that I would need all the allies I could get in the coming times. Why not start with the wolves?
My favorite part of any day were those first few moments when the sun kissed the edge of the horizon, banishing the shadows of night in a centuries old feud with no end. There was no winner, no right or wrong. It simply … was. How peaceful, to exist in a state with no good, no evil, no moral qualms or questionable judgments. There was a cycle and a routine, and that was that.
“I know you don’t like me, so what am I doing here?” Raphael LeRoux asked as he melted from the shadows, his silver fur rippling into sun-weathered skin, his nakedness marred with dozens upon dozens of random scars. He didn’t have to be nude to shift, so I had to wonder if he was trying to make a point.
I didn’t even bother to turn around the rest of the way to look at him, keeping my elbows on the wood railing and flicking my eyes back to the bayou. That first glorious crash of orange and yellow sunshine on the water made life worth living. And let’s be honest—there weren’t a lot of things left in the world like that anymore.
“I’m inviting you to a party,” I said as I tapped my fingers against my sleeve and listened to the wild sounds of nature, a constant symphony of living and breathing and dying and fucking. It was like the complete opposite to the dance the sun and moon made, a random spattering of merciless choices. Eat or be eaten. Breed and then die. Get lucky or starve.
I sighed.
I knew I was being way too goddamn introspective today, but seeing the Veil Keeper … it was stirring all sorts of strange, primal memories and feelings. What did I know of life on the other side of the Veil? Le rien. Fucking nothing. I’d been born here—like most of my peers, like Arlo and Reece. It was only the old-timers like Donal or Fionn that had any idea what we were all missing out on.
The way they carried on, one would think it was paradise on the other side.
I figured it couldn’t be any worse than what we had here. This world was mad, but it was also beautiful.
“You called me all the way out here to invite me to a party?” Rafe growled, coming to stand beside me. I’d let the boys know he was coming, so nobody tried to kill him on his way into the clubhouse. Frankly, there was a good chance whoever challenged him would’ve been the one to end up dead.
“This is an important party with an important purpose. Our Veil Keeper wants to speak with you herself.”
“So I was told by Amelie,” Rafe said, his voice rough and husky, the voice of an animal. He stared over the railing and into the water like he could see things that I couldn’t. Maybe he could? He was a wolf, more animal than human. And I was fae. I was neither of those things. “I got the memo on the Sage and the spear. What else does she want?”
“Careful, wolf, or someone might think to find you ungrateful.” I stood up and stretched my arms above my head in a yawn, casting my blue eyes over to his bloodred ones. “I called you here because the Veil Keeper seems to trust you.”
Rafe scoffed a laugh and stood up, curling his fingers around the wood railing and shaking his head.
“She’s a fool then. She shouldn’t be trusting a damn soul—least of all me. Have you told her about—”
“No.”
The word was short and sharp, and Rafe sighed..
“You people and your weird hang-ups. I’ll never understand any of it. Fine. We accept your invitation—but don’t make me regret it. If I bring my wolves here and a damn hair on a single one of their fine furry asses is out of place by the time we leave, it won’t be a good day for you and yours.”
I smiled and dropped my arms to my sides.
“Bien. Ciarah will be pleased to hear it.”
Raphael gave me a strange look and shook his head.
“Next time, motherfucker, just call me on the damn phone.”
He started to shift as he turned, his palms falling to the deck. By the time they hit the old, rough wood, they were paws. Rafe cast one last bloodred glance at me and took off at a slow jog. I followed at a careful distance behind him, around the corner and toward the edge of the woods. Using magic, I cloaked my approach, crouching down in the brush just outside the new wards Ciarah had erected.
Sure enough, there was a sprite, watching and waiting.
Raphael glanced up at it as he passed and seemed to cock his head a little. The sprite just hissed and took off into the trees as he shook his silver pelt out and kept moving.
That wasn’t a definitive answer to my question on whether the wolves were involved wit
h the sprites or not, but it helped.
The Louisiana Wolves … if they chose to turn on us, the battle would be brutal and bloody.
One side would crawl away from that fight, but there’d be no victor.
Now I just had to hope that whoever the sprites were reporting to … that they couldn’t slaughter us both.
#
“Doesn’t it take time to plan a party?” Ciarah asked as she stood inside the front entrance of the clubhouse and watched Reece hollering at a few hang-arounds to put some white lights up outside. That was about as fancy as we ever got around here.
Kegs were brought in, special order, too. Regular beer was close enough to water for humans. If we wanted to get drunk out here, we’d need something with an extra kick to it. Fortunately there was no shortage of suppliers for faerie wine in the state. We could get it anywhere.
“Not this kind of party,” Arlo growled, looking ticked off at having to spend the night in the same bed as a beautiful, willing woman. What an idiot. Just looking at him right now made me seriously consider freezing all the useless cum in his balls. Not only would it hurt, but it’d be more suitable if he were nut-less considering the way he was acting. “Booze, tobacco, pot, maybe a little coke, and a bunch of beautiful girls and that’s about all we need to have a good time.”
Ciarah’s back got stiff as she turned around to look at Arlo, her eyes flashing with that beautiful otherness that made my hands curl into fists at my sides. I’d never seen anything more … perfect in my life. They were endless, depthless … ancient.
“Didn’t we already have this conversation, Arlo?” she asked, her voice as cold as ice. That made me smile. There wasn’t a damn person on this planet that knew cold and ice quite like I did. “Your cock belongs to me until I say otherwise.”
“I’m not your pet,” Arlo snarled back, getting up close to the small woman like he wished he could fight her the way he’d do to any other man in this clubhouse. The only problem with Ciairah was … he knew he would lose. “You’ve taken my room, and now you’re what? Trying to swipe my fucking dignity?”
“You’re the horned god and I’m the goddess and I’ll have my males as I please.”
Arlo laughed, a strange caustic sort of sound. The odd thing was, he was clearly sporting a rigid dick inside his jeans. The hard tent in his pants made that ridiculously obvious. He wanted this girl and yet, he was playing games.
What bullshit.
“You can have my cock if you want it,” I said, and the room went quiet. I heard Caley chuckling behind the bar, wiping down glasses and pretending not to be involved in the conversation when she was soaking up every word.
Ciarah turned slowly to look at me, her face ferine and liquid, a mask of power and old memories and want.
“I’m claiming the men I want before the party,” she says, and her voice was only half Ciarah. The other half, echoing beneath it with undeniable authority was clearly the Veil Keeper.
“As is her right, Arlo,” Fionn said as he stepped in the back door with Donal following close behind him. They’d had an officers only meeting at church today, but god only knew why. Ciarah should’ve been invited to that, welcomed into the chapel with open arms. In a traditional MC, women weren’t allowed anywhere near the club’s most important meeting place. But we weren’t a regular club, and we knew better than to relegate women to whores and housewives.
Feminine power was mighty.
And I could see an endless amount of it pouring from Ciarah’s face.
“The Veil Keeper chooses her lovers from within the Wild Hunt. If you don’t like it, then leave. Walk out dat door right now and hop your ass on dat bike, see if dere’s somewhere safe from a goddess’ bed.”
Donal and Fionn both laughed, and I could hear Reece guffawing from outside.
Arlo was so pissed that his glamour flickered, and I could see the horns on top of his head as clear as day. He squeezed his hands into fists by his sides and closed his eyes for a long moment before opening them again.
“Fine, I’ll keep my hands off the Willing Hunt,” he said with a rude smirk, using the derogatory name for the clubwhores that the boys liked to toss around. “But you better give Reece a talking to if you’re interested him. The man doesn’t know how to keep his dick in his pants.”
Ciarah’s nostrils flared as she ignored Arlo’s nagging and turned to face me.
“I’ll accept your offer; I want your cock.”
“I’ll bet you do,” Arlo said with a sneer, and then Ciarah was turning and sweeping her arm wide. The magic behind the movement sent the Lord of Spring flying toward the back wall, through the window, and outside. I could hear his body hit the water and raised both brows in response.
Ciarah was panting, almost shaking as she stared at her palm in awe and I heard a barrage of wild cursing from outside. Damn. The man had finally found a woman that could bite back. I wondered how he might take it?
What the fuck … I stared at the palm of my hand, unsure if I was in awe of myself or horrified that I'd just so casually tossed a man—a god—through a window. Surely that qualified me for anger management classes or something.
If I could remember what the hell they were, maybe I'd know.
“Um.” I tucked my trembling hands under my armpits and tried my best not to chew my lip nervously. I was the damn Veil Keeper. The Veil Keeper should never show weakness to her subjects. “I think I might go change.” After all, the Louisiana Wolves were coming with their mysteriously handsome alpha and something told me I wanted to look good.
No, not good. Hot.
“Should I …” I frowned in the general direction of the swamp where Arlo could be heard swearing and cursing me like an enraged voodoo priestess.
“Nah, bebette.” Reece shook his head, having just seen the tail-end of my, er, discussion with Arlo. “You go on, let old Cernunnos cool down a tad, see?”
Still shaking slightly, I nodded and beat a hasty retreat back to Arlo's—my—room. Slamming the door behind me, I leaned my back against it and let out a long breath.
This dual personality was beginning to frighten me, and by the echo of unease I could feel inside my mind, it worried her too. We needed to get ourselves under control. Fast.
A light tap on my door startled me out of my thoughts and I jumped, spinning to open the door a crack.
“Hi.” Killian smiled at me with his arctic blue eyes and ran his hand through his scruffy black hair, almost as though he was nervous. Of what? Surely not me.
Then again, I had just tossed his friend with little more than a flick of my wrist.
“Hi, Killian.” I smiled back, opening the door wider.
“I thought you might need a hand picking out an outfit for tonight? I know you don't remember much of your former life, of any of your former lives, but I doubt any of them partied with bikers.” He said it with a small smirk and I wondered just what exactly a biker party entailed.
I'd soon find out though.
“Really?” The worry and fear I'd been feeling a moment ago slid off me like a rattler's skin. “Are you sure that's why you followed me up here?”
Killian shrugged. “Sure, that sounds like a plausible reason. Don't you think, ma petite chérie?” His eyes sparkled with wickedness as he advanced into my room, coaxing me to back up until my legs touched the bed.
“I think you followed me up here to offer me your cock in a more literal way.” I grinned, my tongue darting out to wet my lips as I ran my gaze over his form. He was huge, like all the fae bikers seemed to be, but of a slightly slimmer build than both Arlo and Reece.
“And if I did?” He quirked a black eyebrow over one of those glacial eyes. “Would you accept once more? Would you take me as your own and name me Seigneur de L'hiver?” The French words rolled off his tongue, but I understood the meaning without struggling. Lord of Winter.
“Is that what you want?” I asked, genuinely curious as I sat on the edge of Arlo's bed and looked up at the darkly
handsome biker who loomed over me. “To be my Lord of Winter? To bond to me for as long as my soul shall inhabit this body? This is no small decision to take lightly.”
My voice had dropped lower, but it wasn't all her. It was us both. While she spoke with knowledge, I spoke with caution. Killian didn't know me at all, and this was not a job one could quit from.
“Does it matter?” he retorted, but without heat. “Le Gardien chooses who she chooses; the men of the Hunt have no say in the matter.”
“This is true,” we said softly, “so why should I choose you, Killian? Show me what makes you a better choice for my Lord of Winter than any other man in the Wild Hunt.”
“Show you?” he repeated, raising his eyebrows. Clearly, this was not the reaction he'd expected. Oh well.
“Yes.” I nodded, my lips pulling up into a sultry sort of smile. “Consider this an interview.” My eyes dropped to the waistband of his black denim jeans, where his hand rested over a skull-shaped belt buckle.
Killian said nothing for a moment, and was probably looking at me, but I couldn't seem to tear my eyes off his long fingers. His thumb was hooked under the rough fabric of his pants and it was consuming me while I waited for him to make a move.
“Interview,” he murmured, half chuckling under his breath. “Very well then, méchante fille. I tell you once more, you can have my cock … if you want it.”
As he spoke, his hands made quick work of his belt, sliding it through the loops of his pants then coiling it around his fist and setting it on the side table. Next, his fly. Flicking the button from its hole then dragging the zipper down, he exposed the straining fabric of his black boxer-briefs.
Then, he paused, and my gaze flickered back up to his face to find him watching me almost expectantly. It took me a moment or two to realize he was waiting for an answer.
“Yes,” I said. We said, our voice full of magic as I accepted his offer. “I want it. Give it to me … now.”
The possessive, almost desperate tone to that ancient voice startled me, but I had no time to question it as Killian responded, putting a palm on my chest and gently pushing me back onto the bed.
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