Wicked Enchantment

by Anya Bast

  The royals and those under their orders could literally get away with murder.

  He nodded solemnly, remembering that night. “It was an adult male hobgoblin. We took him only hours after he’d committed the crime. He resides with the sluagh now, as unforgiven dead.” Eternally shackled in servitude to whom-ever had the power to use them. It was not an enviable fate. “My only regret was that it was too late to save the boy.”

  She studied him hard for several moments before speaking. “You actually sound as if you care.”

  “Of course I care. Why do you sound so surprised?”

  “Because you—you—”

  “What? Because I’m an incubus?”

  Her gaze snapped to his and her jaw locked. “Because you didn’t care very much about me in the Rose when you were lying and tempting me to the Black.”

  His mouth opened and closed. Sighing, he leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. He couldn’t deny that had been his original goal. “You’re right. I made a mistake.” He looked at her, right into her eyes so she could see he was telling the truth. “But by the time the week was over, I was a different person than the one who had arrived. You did that. You changed me, Aislinn.”

  Aislinn closed her mouth and looked away from him. Her foot jiggled in agitation, though her expression seemed sad. She was barefoot and had the cuff of her sweatpants hiked halfway up her calf. Her toenails were painted an alluring shade of red.

  The man who had owned this house had been the kind who’d accepted his death. He’d been pretty talkative on the ride to the Netherworld. Apparently he’d once loved a woman so much that even after she’d left him, he kept her clothes because they retained her scent. Now Aislinn wore them. He suspected the deceased Sídhe, a friendly guy who’d died in a car accident, wouldn’t mind.

  That morning, they’d showered and then raided the kitchen. As both of them were still recovering from the iron sickness, they were ravenous. So they made eggs and bacon and washed it all down with coffee and orange juice. While they feasted, she’d talked animatedly about all the things she’d experienced growing up. Her face had flushed from the pleasure of sharing these things with someone who understood. Her eyes had shone and the words had poured forth in an excited tangle.

  She seemed to have grown accustomed to the idea that she was only part Seelie and that, indeed, the Unseelie half of her was much stronger. Giving up the Rose Tower didn’t seem to be much of an issue for her, even though she hadn’t exactly had a warm welcome at the Black Tower.

  They didn’t talk about the Shadow King.

  Several times during breakfast he’d nearly pulled her chair close to his, kissed her senseless, tumbled her to the floor, and pulled off her clothes piece by piece. It was Aislinn he wanted to feast on, not breakfast. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her lush curves and sink his cock into the warm, satiny heart of her.

  But he had to restrain himself. Work needed to come first.

  And the odds, obviously, were against them.

  “So how do we do this?” She raised her eyes to his. They were clear, the expression on her face determined.

  He stood from where he lounged on the sofa. They’d ended up there while they finished their coffee. The morning had been idyllic. It was almost hard to remember they were on the run for their lives. He walked to the window and gazed out over the beauty of the Boundary Lands. “You have to find the power inside yourself, Aislinn. I can start you off. I can help you a bit, but, ultimately, it’s all about you discovering what it is you were born to do.”

  Silence.

  He turned and looked at her. “I can’t call ordinary fae souls to me. I can’t make them do my bidding. All I can do is feel them, find them, help them. You have more power than I do in this regard, but make no mistake—together we’re a powerhouse.” He paused. “I can call the sluagh and you can control them. With you guiding them—”

  “The sluagh?” The blood had drained from her face.

  “Don’t fear them.”

  “The sluagh are dangerous. They’re the restless ones, the darkest of the fae who have passed over. You told me Brigid, my grandmother, controlled them, but I guess I never realized until just now that . . . that means I can control them, too.”

  He nodded. “And the Shadow King is terrified of them, terrified you and I might set them loose on the Black Tower with orders to carry him away to the Netherworld. The ironic part is that he’ll be destined to serve in the sluagh as punishment.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, then shifted her gaze out the window. Gabriel knew exactly what she was thinking. It was written all over her face. She was an exceptional woman, Aislinn Christiana Guinevere Finvarra.

  “You don’t think you can kill him, do you?” he asked softly. “Not even after what he was going to do to you.”

  “No.” She swallowed hard. “No, I don’t think I can. That sort of bodes ill for us both, don’t you think?”

  “I think it makes you a bigger, stronger person than the Shadow King. Much less a coward. I think it makes me respect you.”

  She shifted her gaze to his face and blinked. “I think it makes us both dead.”

  “Let’s take this one step at a time, shall we? You have to walk before you run and commanding the sluagh is definitely running. Maybe you won’t have to kill the Shadow King.”

  He could think of a few fates worse than death for him. Anyway, when it came down to it, he would be the one to kill the Shadow King if he meant Aislinn harm. Gabriel would protect Aislinn against any comers and not blink an eyelash at having to collect their souls afterward.

  She let out a long, slow breath. “All right, so how do we begin?”

  “I think we should start with your father.” He walked over and sat beside her on the couch. “I think he has some questions to answer, don’t you?”

  She worried her lower lip between her teeth. “More than one.”

  “It’s already inside you, Aislinn. The spell you found in the book worked the way it should, taking the ability from you without you even consciously wielding it. But you don’t need the words to find the power. So close your eyes, relax your body, and breathe slowly in and out, evenly and deeply.”

  She settled back against the cushions and closed her eyes.

  “That’s it. That’s right.”

  His voice was low and deep, like warm chocolate on a winter’s day. It made goose bumps rise all over her body. The words entered the center of her and sank deep inside her womb, making her react in a sexual way. She pushed past the sexual reaction, strove for peace, and drifted awhile, hearing every little sound and feeling every little twitch and pain in her body until, finally, she pushed past all of that, too. Distractions gone, she went deeper, her limbs growing heavy and Gabriel’s voice now lulling instead of exciting her.

  “Concentrate on your father,” Gabriel crooned. “Bring an image of his face into your mind.”

  She did, tears pricking her eyes. Grief rose in her throat and chest, that familiar heavy feeling drowning her. She took a deep breath, pushed past it. A presence began to pull her awareness to the left. Someone was standing there and it wasn’t Gabriel. He was sitting on her right.

  “Carina?” snapped Gabriel’s voice.

  SEVENTEEN

  AISLINN’S eyes popped open. Carina wavered there in front of them—a specter, a shade, a disembodied fae soul. Shock ripped through Aislinn as the implication hit her. Carina was dead. She sucked in a hard, fast breath, her hand flying to her mouth and her eyes widening.

  “I know,” said Carina with a sad smile. “It must be a stunner for you. It sure was for me, even though I should’ve expected it.”

  Aislinn stared at her friend for a long moment, her eyes filling with tears. The image of Carina swam and she swiped her hands over her eyes to clear them. “How? When?”

  Her image flickered and nearly faded away. The tether that connected her to the Netherworld pulled taut for a moment, its yell
ow and silver light stretching thin.

  Aisinn reached out. “No! Don’t go!”

  The tether snapped back fatter. “I don’t have much control,” Carina said, her voice sounding far away. “I can feel something pulling at me. I know I can’t go to the Netherworld yet, but I’m waiting for something to come and take me there. It was hard for me to find you.”

  “The Wild Hunt,” said Gabriel. “That’s what she’s feeling. Aislinn, command that she take corporeal form. She won’t be able to deny your magick.”

  Aislinn glanced at him, disbelieving. It sounded far-fetched, but it was worth a shot. She looked back at Carina, stared at her, and said, “Take corporeal form.” Something deep inside her tingled as she said it. Magick lacing through her words, perhaps?

  Immediately Carina seemed to solidify, though she retained an indescribable air of etherealness that Carina had never possessed in life. A silvery aura seemed to cling to her. Carina looked down the length of her body in disbelief. “You’re a necromancer.”

  Aislinn cut to the chase. “How and when did you die, Carina?” Tears choked her throat. Like most souls did, Carina looked younger than she had when she was alive.

  Carina went stock-still for a moment. “I died yesterday.” She paused. “I was murdered.”

  “Why are you here?” Gabriel asked. “The Wild Hunt should have delivered you to the Netherworld this morning.”

  “I refused to go with them. I had to see Aislinn before I left. To—to beg her forgiveness.”

  Aislinn jerked in surprise. “What? Why would you need my forgiveness? Tell me who killed you, Carina.” Tingles again. She hadn’t meant to, but she’d just compelled Carina magickally to answer that last question.

  “The Phaendir,” she answered instantly.

  “Why?” The query came from Gabriel and it was full of sharp suspicion. Aislinn shot him an annoyed look, but he didn’t notice. He was too busy staring Carina down like she was the murderer instead of the victim.

  Carina didn’t answer.

  Aislinn frowned, her gaze shifting back to Carina’s apparition. Carina was eyeing Gabriel nervously. “Why?” Aislinn compelled her.

  Carina’s gaze jerked to hers. “Because I was helping them watch you.” Pause. “I had to do it or they’d kill Drem.” Her words came out in a rush. “They told me to befriend you, to watch you, to search your apartment for some old book with a red leather cover, vellum pages, and a bunch of spells. I did it. I befriended you, but I could never get as close to you as Bella got. You would never spill all your secrets to me. I searched your apartment but I never found the book. I failed. And then you left the Rose Tower and I searched again. The book wasn’t there and I told them you probably took it with you. They—”

  “Murdered you,” Gabriel answered. “Killed you using some long-distance spell from beyond the boundaries of Piefferburg.”

  Carina nodded and looked miserable. “They left Drem alive.” She sighed heavily. “I’ll miss him, but I’m grateful I’m the one they took.”

  “Oh, Carina.” Aislinn’s mind was awhirl. Carina had never truly been her friend. Their whole relationship had been a sham. The Phaendir had threatened her . . . murdered her, and all for something Aislinn had had in her possession. It was so much to get her mind around. The Phaendir knew about the book? About her father? They’d been watching her? And they’d killed Carina. It was all just a little too much on top of what was happening with the Shadow King. “It was the Book of Bindings they were looking for.”

  “You had the Book of Bindings?”

  Aislinn nodded. “Why did you feel the need to come and see me?”

  “I wanted to warn you. I needed to find a way to let you know that the Phaendir are interested in you. I never imagined you’d be able to talk to me. You’re a necromancer, Aislinn!” She sucked in a breath. “You’re Unseelie!”

  Aislinn chewed the edge of her thumbnail, deep in thought. “Yes, I am.”

  “The Phaendir aren’t interested in Aislinn. Not anymore,” Gabriel broke in. “They must know by now that the Shadow King has the Book of Bindings. That’s what they want.”

  Carina looked at him. “They’re evil. Evil, Gabriel. Don’t assume they’re done with Aislinn yet. Protect her.”

  Gabriel gave Aislinn a long, hard look, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “At the moment I live and breathe for just that.” Warmth flushed her body at the look in his eyes.

  “How is Drem?” Aislinn asked, the question coming out in a rush.

  “Grieving me.” Carina’s image flickered. “If you ever see him again, tell him I love him. I’m going to miss him so, so much.”

  “I will. I’m sorry, Carina,” Aislinn whispered. How could she blame Carina for doing what she’d had to do to protect her loved one?

  “No.” Carina shook her silvery, ethereal head. “I’m the one who’s sorry, Aislinn. Just watch your back. If you ever need me for anything, call me from the Netherworld. I’ll do anything to make up for what I did to you. Now, please, let me go. I’ve said what I came to say and the pull toward the Wild Hunt is very strong now. Let me go so I can find a place to wait for them.”

  “Of course.” Aislinn contemplated her for a moment longer and then whispered, “Good-bye, Carina. You’re free.”

  Carina disappeared.

  Gabriel and Aislinn both fell silent. After a moment, Gabriel moved over to her and cupped her chin, forcing her to turn and look at him. “Are you all right?”

  She blinked. “I’m fine. I’m just processing a lot.”

  “Believe me, I wasn’t expecting that, either.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “I guess Carina found you before you had a chance to call your father.”

  The fact that Gabriel called him her father, as in real and true, endeared him to her. “I’m just having a little trouble with the fact that the Phaendir have been watching me, and that Carina was reporting on me to them.”

  “You’ve come closer than most to pure evil, but they’re done with you. The Shadow King has the book and that’s what they were after. They’ve got to be nervous now that the book is within the boundaries of Piefferburg and the Summer Queen has one of the pieces to the bosca fadbh.”

  “I hope you’re right about them losing interest in me.” She stood and realized her knees were shaking. Ridiculous, she told herself. She’d just spent a week in the Shadow King’s dungeon. This news was nothing compared to that. “Maybe my father will be able to shed more light on the situation.”

  But she wasn’t going to call him. Not just yet. She needed to digest this chunk of information before she bit off any more.

  Gabriel stood and went for the small cart in the corner filled to bursting with bottles of clear and amber liquid and short glasses. “I need a drink.”

  “It’s not even noon.”

  “I still need a drink.” He poured some of the amber liquid into a glass and took a swallow and then refilled it. He turned. “Want some?”

  “It’s not even noon,” she repeated with emphasis.

  He grinned. “Aislinn, the Shadow King and all his minions are searching every square inch of Piefferburg for you right now, you just compelled your first soul as a necromancer, and you found out the Phaendir have had their eye on you for years. Still think a social law like no drinking before noon is important?”

  Wow. She really hadn’t needed the recap.

  She crossed the floor toward him. “You’re right. Give me some of that.”

  She took the glass from him and his finger skated over her hand as she did, sending little tremors of need through her body. Bringing the glass to her lips, she took a long swallow. She didn’t drink very often, but the sweet, harsh burn of the alcohol down her throat seemed somehow cleansing. Closing her eyes and grimacing, she took another long swallow of it, draining the glass. Warmth spread from her tongue to her throat to her stomach.

  When she opened her eyes it was to find Gabriel staring at her, eyelids at half-mast.

  “What
are you looking at?”

  “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  She gave a short laugh and gazed down into the empty glass. “I’m sure you say that to all the women you’ve tried to seduce.”

  He tilted her chin up so she was forced to look at him. “I am trying to seduce you, Aislinn, but I don’t mean you’re beautiful in the ordinary sense. You are beautiful inside and out, upside and down, straight into your soul.”

  Oh, he was good. He really sounded like he meant it. She nearly even believed him. In fact, there was a part of her that needed to believe him. Just for now anyway.

  The look on his face made her mouth go dry. His eyes seemed to hold every single erotic thing he wanted to do to her.

  And she wanted him to do every last one of them to her.

  She wanted to lose herself in him, let him take her away to a place where none of the rest of this existed. Somewhere far from death and souls and fates she’d never bargained on. Away from the Book of Bindings, the Phaendir, the Shadow King, and the tangled web they wove.

  He slipped his hand to the nape of her neck and very gently fisted his hand in her hair. It didn’t hurt, but it did effectively keep her from moving. Then he wove his other arm around her waist, placing his opposite hand possessively on the small of her back.

  The empty glass she held slipped from her fingers and thudded onto the carpeted floor.

  “Do you remember what you told me you wanted me to do yesterday?” he asked silkily as his mouth descended slowly toward hers. He nipped her lower lip while holding her head in place. Her nipples tightened and her breath caught in her throat. “Remember what you asked me?”

  “Yes,” she breathed. “I remember all of it.”

  “You asked me to fuck you. Do you still want that?” His warm breath eased over her lips.

  She nodded. “Right now, more than anything.” Her voice had a tremor to it. Her body felt tight with need and she knew he would unravel that tightness inch by inch until there was nothing left of her but all-consuming lust and, eventually, only sated relaxation.