And from the stillness about him, whatever it was they were saying, Riley was listening.
“Somebody needs to tell me what the bloody hell is going on!” Riley’s eyes locked with London’s.
“Listen to me.” London grabbed his wrist, wanting to yank the phone from his ear so he couldn’t hear their lies. “Those Changelings are mercenaries working for the wizards. Wizards kill all other fey. They are liars and kidnappers and murderers. They steal the magic of the fey to power their spells. They can’t get magic any other way. Why do you think they wanted the fey magic you brought them?” She tugged at his arm. “I’m telling you, you can’t trust them. I’m enchanted, just like you. I serve the Sidhe.”
With a determined set to his mouth, Riley said, “Trust me.” But whether it was to her, or to whoever was on the phone, she could only guess. He thumbed the phone off and dropped it into his pocket.
Riley reached out and gripped her shoulder. He smiled with reassurance.
And that’s when things moved so fast she hardly knew what happened.
The two surviving Changelings teleported in behind Riley. No longer in wolf form, they’d assumed the shape of men, naked and glistening in the moonlight. Wild and wicked grins stretched across their faces.
Before London could cry out a warning, Riley shoved her back against a standing stone. She impacted with such force that it knocked a yelp of pain from her. Part of her realized in that second that Riley intentionally pushed her so that Joe wouldn’t be able to see from his sniper position.
And then Riley lunged, knife aimed for London’s gut, stabbing forward hard and fast.
Chapter Twelve
London doubled over, gripping her stomach. No pain shot through her. Only the sense of pressure from the back of Riley’s hand. He’d twisted the knife sideways, instead of driving the blade into her gut. His own body, so close to hers, hid the truth of what he’d done. That he’d faked the attack. Riley pushed her down, jerking back the knife before she landed on it.
Playing mortally wounded, London slumped. The blood already smeared over her from the Changeling only helped to sell the act. Through half-closed lids she watched Riley back away from her.
His eyes were wide and staring at her. Such bold acts of deception under duress weren’t second nature to him, and it showed in the adrenaline-induced tremble that rippled over him. Even still, his voice remained steady as he spoke to the Changelings behind him. “She was enchanted. That means she’ll have Sidhe magic within her. Will Thomas want to harvest that magic?”
A test.
Riley’s question hung in the air, and London thought for a moment the Changelings wouldn’t fall for it. Or just not answer at all. And then one hissed. “Sidhe magic is the most coveted. Bring her.”
And there it was.
Confirmation that everything the wizards told Riley had been a lie. The smooth features of his face hardened. As the Changelings moved past him, Riley spun. He drove his knife hard into the gut of the taller of the two fey.
Another echo of rifle fire cracked through the dark. The final Changeling dropped in a spray of blood.
Riley rushed over to London, knife still in hand, but down to his side. He helped her to roll over. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No,” she started to sit up.
From behind Riley, Joe snapped, “Back off!”
Still down on one knee, Riley leaned back, raising his hands.
“Drop the knife!” He sighted down the barrel, aiming right at Riley’s face. The authoritative power of his voice boomed with such force that he almost didn’t need the rifle. Everything about him, from the way he handled the weapon, to his stance, to the merciless expression, was all hardcore Special Forces badass. Given the choice, London would rather go toe-to-toe with the three Changelings by herself than be on the wrong side of Joe’s fury.
Wisely, Riley did as he was told. The knife bounced in the low grass.
“I’m alright, Joe.” London struggled to her feet. “He only pretended to attack to draw out the Changelings.”
Joe lowered the rifle, but lost none of his intensity. “I followed the wizards down to their car and saw them send the Changelings back up. I figured they must have spotted you, London. Unfortunately, it also means that I lost the chance to tail them.”
Riley brought his hands down slowly, not making any sudden movement. “You work with the Sidhe, too? Not a magazine?”
“Yes.”
In a desperate rush, he said, “Then I’ll give you everything I know about the wizards, including where to find them, if you take me to the Sidhe. At least until I can find Manannan again.”
“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Manannan’s probably dead. Lost in the Collapse with most of the other Sidhe.”
“What Collapse?” His voice broke. Riley winced as his fingers brushed over the bleeding gashes on his chest when he meant to stroke the amulets.
“The Mounds Collapsed about six months ago. Have you seen Manannan since then?” Joe dropped the news without even attempting to soften the blow.
It hit Riley like a sucker punch. The horror on his face was the type usually reserved for the death of a spouse or child. Life altering. World shattering. Incomprehensible. “No. It can’t be true. Manannan… Dead? The Sidhe… gone?”
“Not all the Sidhe. There were a few Unseelie still on the surface.” Joe slung his rifle over his shoulder, not overcome with an abundance of sympathy. “Now show us these strongholds, and I’ll take you back to one of the Sidhe. Whether or not he takes you on will be up to him.”
Chapter Thirteen
The deck rolled rhythmically as the boat cut through the waves. Already, the lights of Douglas faded as they left the Isle behind them, and good riddance to it. London leaned back against the railing, refreshed and warm now that she’d swapped out her slinky and blood-soaked clothing for the warm USMC sweats Joe loaned her. The boat ran with minimum lighting, but with the moonlight, London saw clearly enough.
With an economy of movement, Joe patched up the gashes on Riley’s chest with butterfly stitches and a stark-white pressure bandage that contrasted with his tanned skin. Riley had the body of a swimmer; good abs and broad shoulders. His fingers fondled the two charms on his necklace. “You fall in love with them, don’t you?” His blue eyes shifted from Joe to London. The honesty in Riley’s expression made it clear that, for him, it had been true. “When they Touch you.”
Joe sifted through the contents of the first aid bag, passing off the question. “You wanna take this one?”
“Fall in love with them?” London laughed a little, and heard the irony in her own voice. “Every bloody time. But it’s not real. The magic makes you feel it, though. Makes you think it’s love.”
“But, couldn’t it be?” Riley covered his heart, his hand on the bandage across his chest. “Couldn’t it be real?”
“You can’t start thinking that way or it’ll mess you up.” Joe zipped closed the bag. He slipped something into his pocket so smoothly that London almost missed it. “You can never be to the Sidhe what they are to you. They will never care about you like you care about them. It’s dysfunctional at best. Madness at worst. But what it never is, is love. No matter what they say, no matter what they do, they don’t love you. We’re hardly a blip on their radar. Don’t fool yourself that it can ever be any other way.”
“I don’t know.” He leaned back in the lounge chair, focusing on the sky and certainly seeing something other than the stars. “I feel what I feel. And what I feel is real to me.”
“But not to them,” Joe persisted.
“Maybe.” Riley frowned, lifting his head so he could look at Joe. “Who Touched you? Unseelie or Seelie?”
“It doesn’t matter. I know what I’m talking about.”
“But always Unseelie right? Didn’t you say mostly Unseelie live on the surface?”
“Yes, always Unseelie.”
“Yeah, see? Both mine were Seelie. That must m
ake a difference.” Riley smiled to himself. “Manannan showed me power like nothing I’ve ever known. But Lugh… Oh, my God.” He shook his head, with a little wicked grin. “You can’t tell me that wasn’t compassion or understanding. You can’t tell me that wasn’t love. Maybe not romantic love, but still love. I know what I felt.”
The very mention of Lugh’s name jolted London to full alertness like a hit of caffeine. She drew in every word, every gesture, each micro-expression on Riley’s face. It had been different with Lugh. He’d been different. Could there be a fundamental difference between the Seelie and the Unseelie? More than just their politics?
As enraptured as Riley looked, recalling the Touch of the Seelie, Joe’s expression hardened. With more anger than what could be justified, Joe snapped, “Don’t believe it. Not of Lugh, or any other Sidhe. You’re going to Tiernan now, so you better holster that romanticism. It’s business. If he takes you on, you’ll earn your keep, same as the rest of us. He doesn’t play games. Straight up Touch. No frills. No head trips. He doesn’t want you in his bed and he won’t pretend otherwise.” Joe checked his watch. “We’re coming up to the Veil.” Over his shoulder to London, he said, “Get ready. This could get bad.”
The charms on Riley’s necklace suddenly jerked back so hard that they tore from his hand and the chain snapped. “No!” Riley chased after them, but the necklace hit the boat deck and skidded right off the stern of the boat. Riley threw himself toward the railing, intent on flinging himself into the sea after them.
Joe tackled him and wrestled him away from the edge. “It’s gone! Let it go!”
“No!” Riley struggled as if possessed by some wild thing. He struck out at Joe, clawing and shouting. And then Riley jerked away with a soul-ripping scream as he collapsed to the deck in convulsions.
“What’s happening?” London shoved things aside so Riley wouldn’t bash into them as he seized.
“We hit the Great Veil. It keeps out wizard magic. That charm prevented the loss of the Touch from tearing him up, and now he’s getting hit with the full force of the curse at once.” Joe drew a Syrette from his pocket. Over the tormented screams, he shouted, “How long’s it been, Riley? When did you get the Touch last?”
“Twenty-six weeks!” He raked the flesh on his face with his nails, clawing deep bloody trails.
Joe stabbed the auto-injector into Riley’s thigh.
In mid-scream the druid collapsed. His hands dropped away from his torn face. At least he’d not gouged his eyes. Maybe the scratches would heal without too much scarring. It was hard to tell how bad it was. Nothing bleeds like facial wounds.
London pressed her fingers to the side of his neck. His thundering pulse began to slow into a steady rhythm. “He’s out cold.”
“Morphine.” Joe discarded the needle into a container in the first aid kit. “The boss is sending someone to meet us. They’ll take Riley back to the mansion.”
“What will Tiernan do with him?” London asked, checking for injuries. The scratches on his face bled like crazy. The torment of the addiction hadn’t yet driven her to tear at her own flesh, but she’d been close to it. Seeing Riley gripped in a fit of insanity, all because of the curse, was a harsh reminder. There, but for the grace of the Sidhe, go I.
“Tiernan will either bring him into the crew or give him to the vamps to put him out of his misery.” Once more, Joe set to bandaging Riley, taping gauze over the broken skin.
“Enchanted humans can’t be embraced by the vampires.”
“I didn’t mean they would turn him.”
London should have guessed that. She slipped a seat cushion from one of the deck chairs under Riley’s head while Joe tucked a rough, all-weather blanket around him. “So, what happened when he touched you with that seashell anyways?”
“Ever stick your finger in a light socket?” Joe rubbed his forehead. “I think the Sidhe magic must have repelled the enchantment.”
Once they got Riley as comfortable looking as they could, which probably didn’t really matter since he was unconscious, they leaned back on the railing again, watching over him. When Joe hooked an easy arm around her back, London didn’t object. His hand rubbed up and down the tense muscles, bringing an exhale of breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Then he pulled her against him for a one-armed, sideways hug. Just a companionable embrace, nothing kinky about it. “You’ll hook up with a Sidhe before it gets that bad. Give me a day or two to get things settled about Riley, and then I’ll talk to Tiernan about you.”
“Actually…” London hugged her arms around herself, remembering the way Lugh held her. The way he drew her gently against him. The compassion and love of his Touch that had been unlike any magic she’d felt from any Unseelie. If there was even a chance that he might return… that he might accept her, flaws and all… “Hold off on telling Tiernan anything until I check on something.”
Even in the weak light of the moonlight, she could see Joe’s blue eyes searching hers, seeing something within her that he didn’t comment on. “Whatever you say, babe.” He didn’t question her choice. Just left his arm around her. There was a comfort there, in the understanding. If the curse didn’t complicate things for both of them, she might have even let herself feel more for Joe than the easy companionship.
Instead, her thoughts tumbled back to Lugh and the hopes she placed in him. She’d never had a choice before. She’d had to get the Touch any way she could. Even in some pretty horrible ways.
Maybe this time, it could be different. Maybe with a Seelie, with Lugh, she could reclaim her life from the disaster it had become. It was a chance she was willing to take. The first positive choice that she could really feel good about.
The first time, since the whole nightmare of the curse began, that she didn’t feel like she was making another mistake.
###
Captivated
Chapter One
Tall, blond, and delicious heading your way.
London blinked at the text message that woke her from a fitful slumber. Only the soft glow from the kitchen illuminated her living room, where she’d crashed on her sofa. Double-checking, she slid her hand between the cushions, finding the comforting, cold metal of her pistol. Sleep didn’t come easy when Donovan and his cadre of Unseelie wanted you dead.
The text message came from Selena, of course. Four in the morning was prime time for vampires. London texted her back. Did he say anything about me?
Since being cursed, all that mattered was getting her life back. Working for Lugh in exchange for the Touch was a major part of that plan. At least it had been, up until Lugh went off with a wood elf that knew too much about London’s less-than-brilliant past. She truly regretted her mistakes, but that didn’t buy her forgiveness. The Unseelie death sentence was a case in point.
But London had never met anyone like Lugh. For the first time, she had a slim hope. And after journeying through denial, anger, and stupidity… hope, no matter how thin, was a vast improvement.
Still in the sweat shirt and pants that she’d worn the evening before, London wedged herself up off the sofa. The gun, she transferred to the coffee table and covered with a magazine. Not an extraordinarily complicated hiding place, but easy to access should an Unseelie or a Changeling or any other bad-n-nasty bloke decide to invade her flat. Coffee seemed like a good idea, so she wouldn’t come across as bleary eyed and befuddled when Lugh got there. The coffeemaker just began to brew when the phone played the ringtone for Selena.
London answered, “Too long for a text message? Should I be worried?”
The vampire’s smooth voice glided over London’s senses like silk. “I just spent a very interesting evening with Lugh.” The sigh practically dripped with satisfaction.
“No details, please. I’ve not even had a cup of coffee yet.”
Vampires indulged all their lusts with a relish few other creatures could match. Except the fey, whose reputation for casual sex rivaled even that of the vamps. And among those fe
y, the Sidhe especially seemed made of equal parts magic and sex appeal. The pairing of a vamp and a Sidhe might seem like rampaging hormones taking their course, if not for the fact that vampires preyed upon the fey. How Lugh and Selena hit it off, London didn’t know, but she certainly didn’t need the sticky blow-by-blow account of the bedroom negotiations.
“London, Luv. Promise me that you’ll take precautions.” And London could tell from her tone that Selena wasn’t talking about condoms.
“Why? What’s happened?” The coffee cup slipped from her grasp and banged down on the counter. “What did he say?”
“It wasn’t what he said as much as how he acted. More aggressive than before. Darker.” The vampire laughed, low and seductive. “Not that I didn’t like the rough play.”
“Darker?” Forgetting her coffee, London crossed to her research strewn across her kitchen table and shuffled through it. All her sources agreed that Lugh, the Shining One, was the epitome of Seelie. Worshiped as the Celtic sun god, the man was the personification of light and of the Summer Court. Civilized and chivalrous. Even the accounts of his battles never once described him as the least bit ‘dark’ in nature. That just wasn’t supposed to be in his nature at all. Then again, how much was myth and how much truly reflected the man he was? But rough? Aggressive? London wouldn’t have thought that of the compassionate Sidhe she’d met just the day before, whose tender Touch had filled her with such light and wonderment. “Maybe you just bring out the beast in him, Selena.”
“Perhaps.” A self-satisfied smile colored her voice. “Just thought you should know.”
“Thanks.” London’s head lifted at the sound of a rap on her door. “I think he’s here. I’ll call you later.”
Remnants of Magic (The Sidhe Collection (Urban Fantasy)) Page 19
