by Anya Bast
“The Lord of the Wild Hunt will call you again. Next time he will call all of you and I will command you.”
“And so we will come and obey.”
“Return from where you came from, until I need you again.”
The sluagh disappeared.
Aislinn stood staring at the empty spot where the sluagh had just been, her eyes wide and her lips parted a little. “Oh, Danu,” she breathed. “I can command an army of forsaken dead.”
“You can. And you can do it with a fierceness that makes my cock get hard.”
That broke her stare. Her head whipped toward him and color—finally—suffused her cheeks. She gave a surprised laugh. “You never stop, do you?”
The smiled faded from his lips and he held her gaze steadily. “Not where you’re concerned, Aislinn. I’ll never stop where you’re concerned.”
She blinked and her lips parted a little in surprise. After a moment, she slid the dagger back into the sheath at her hip. Then she looked away, glancing up at the sky through the canopy of trees. “It’s time we start into the city.”
He nodded. “Let’s go make history.”
SOMEHOW, someway, Gideon had attracted the aid of an angel. Emily swiped cotton balls over his weals and Gideon endured the sting of the antiseptic with hardly an eyelash flutter. Her gentle hands slipped over his skin and he closed his eyes. It was an exquisite torture. Pleasure and pain made one. Labrai’s gift to him for his duty and sacrifice.
“You are even more pious than Brother Maddoc,” she murmured in a voice of reverence.
“I love my God and will suffer for Him.”
“It’s a beautiful thing, Brother Gideon,” she said in the sort of shushed voice that one might use in a church.
But he didn’t want her to think of him in terms of piousness, reverence, or godliness. He wanted an earthier type of appreciation from her.
Emily wasn’t employed at the Phaendir headquarters just as Brother Maddoc’s personal assistant; she was also a Worshipful Observer. The human group was composed of humans who respected—worshipped—the work the Phaendir did in keeping the evil of the fae races separated from the rest of the world. Many of them were women, and many of them occupied the beds of the brothers, as Gideon suspected Emily occupied Maddoc’s.
He couldn’t think about that without losing his temper.
“It’s to show my devotion to the God who keeps us all safe from the wickedness loose in the world,” he replied to her, his hand finding and fisting a pen on his desk. “I do it for you.”
“I attend the Phaendir services on Tuesday nights. This last week Brother Maddoc preached about the punishment of the Phaendir through flogging, the attempt to keep at bay the faelike part of you.” The back of her soft, warm hand brushed his shoulder and lingered a moment longer than was necessary. “I just want you to know there are humans who appreciate all you do for us.”
Yes, but there were some, like the HFF, Humans for the Freedom of the Fae, who had no appreciation and actively worked against the Phaendir. And there were even more, the overwhelming majority, in fact, who simply didn’t care one way or another. Those apathetic humans were a blight on all things holy, almost as bad as the fae themselves.
Emily leaned down and spoke near his ear as she tidied the cotton balls and antiseptic. “Perhaps one day you and I can attend services together.”
It wasn’t an offer to sleep with her, but it was enough to make his lips curl in a satisfied smile. If he could get to know her better through her piousness, maybe he could ride it all the way to her bed. And her body was one step closer to her heart. He wanted all of it. Gideon wanted Emily soul, heart, and body.
Apparently she was seeing something in him that she liked. If only he could make the rest of his plan come together—if he could only get that damn book—then she would be his. He felt it.
For decades he’d been angling to procure the Book of Bindings before Brother Maddoc could manage it. Gideon had schemed, betrayed, and concealed information, bringing him close to obtaining it before Maddoc even had a clue. Then the book had slipped from his fingers like water.
Gone.
She gathered her things and walked toward the door. Once there, she turned back and smiled shyly. “You never answered my question, Brother Gideon.”
He blinked, coming out of the slight haze of fantasy that had captured him. “Yes! Yes, of course, I would love to do that sometime.”
One more lingering, small smile and she was gone.
He stared at the empty doorway, making no move to cover his naked upper half. That little hint of interest from Emily had been exactly what he’d needed. He closed his eyes and gave thanks to Labrai.
He’d been losing faith that he could procure the Book of Bindings now that the Shadow King seemed to have it in his possession. Aodh was a powerful Unseelie Royal. If it had remained in possession of the Seelie fluff, the woman known as Aislinn Christiana Guinevere Finvarra, perhaps he would have had a chance.
That seemed impossible now, judging from the intelligence he’d gained from the Black Tower. As soon as the Finvarra woman had arrived, she’d been taken into custody, and she had soon escaped somehow. Now no one truly knew what was going on, but the Shadow Guard and the goblin army were on the move, searching for her and others. Purportedly two of the most powerful Unseelie mages were involved, one of them Ronan Quinn, a man Gideon would personally enjoy disemboweling for thieving the piece of the bosca fadbh from the Phaendir.
Gideon would lay his ear closer to the ground in Piefferburg and try to glean what was happening with the Finvarra woman. If somehow he could help that bit of Seelie fluff to be victorious against the Shadow King, perhaps she would regain control of the Book of Bindings and he could get it from her.
He had the magicked patch in the warding around Piefferburg he could use if he needed it. He had the men to send, men who were loyal to him and would prefer to see his policies in place over Maddoc’s. There was even a tunnel and trapdoor into the heart of the city, though it let out in a highly inconvenient area. The Phaendir weren’t stupid. They’d built secret ways into Piefferburg when the detention area was being constructed, but the town had changed and evolved over their pathways throughout the centuries. Now the entryway was in the heart of Goblin Town. It was probably the worst possible place for it with the exception of the Black Tower.
Still.
He leaned forward, tapping his pen on his desk. Perhaps, indeed, there could yet be a way for him to gain all that was due him. All it might take was a little interference on his part.
And a big steel trap for the Seelie fluff.
THE crush of the commercial district on the outer limits of the ceantar láir around her, Aislinn stared at the big television screen broadcasting in the middle of one of the district’s squares and blinked. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
Faemous commentator Brian Bentley, with his blond human head and huge white teeth and cleft chin, dominated the screen. He was standing in front of the Black Tower on the dark side of Piefferburg Square, a sight that hadn’t been seen since the goblins ate the Faemous crew assigned to cover the Unseelie five years before. He gave the camera a smug smile to remind everyone of that and began to speak.
For the first time in years, the Shadow King has allowed Faemous access to the Black Tower, with his personal assurance that no one on the film crew will be harmed. Why? He has requested we cover the capture early this morning of Ronan Achaius Quinn and Bella Rhiannon Caliste Mac Lyr, two of the fugitives that have been at large this past week. Niall Daegan Riordan Quinn still remains at large.
As you will remember from our earlier coverage of this incident, Ronan Quinn and Bella Mac Lyr have once again gone against their royal. This is not the first time this pair has operated outside fae law, although this time it was the Shadow King instead of the Summer Queen. One wonders where the couple will find refuge after this latest dustup, having now alienated both royals.
Bentley
continued speaking, but that was all Aislinn heard. That was a message sent by the Shadow King through what passed as fae media and she had received it loud and clear. He had Bella and Ronan and he would kill them if she didn’t turn herself in.
She could hear between the lines just fine.
“Come on,” said Gabriel near her ear. “The Shadow Guard is coming this way.” He yanked her arm, jerking her out of the stunned stare of horror she’d fallen into.
He led her around the corner and they started walking down it. Aislinn concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, her mind in a nasty, dark tangle.
They walked until they crossed the border of the commercial district and were just inside the ceantar dubh, getting closer and closer to the Black Tower. They would keep to the alleys and the shadowy places until they reached their destination—an apartment that Aeric O’Malley, the famed Unseelie blacksmith and Gabriel’s friend, kept close to Piefferburg Square.
“We won’t let anything happen to them,” Gabriel said. “Remember, we have the sluagh to use as a weapon.”
The icy shock slipped from her bones and hot rage poured into its place. “We need to act soon, sooner than we planned. There’s no telling how he’s keeping them. They could already be—”
“No. No way, Aislinn. He needs them alive. But he’s keeping Bella in charmed iron at the very least. He’s probably got Ronan trussed up some other way.”
“But they could be—wait.” She put a hand on Gabriel’s arm to stop him. They halted in the middle of the dank alley. Somewhere on their left, water dripped. A shape moved in the shadows of the alley ahead of them. “Something’s up there.”
“We’re in an alley in the ceantar dubh. I’d be surprised if there wasn’t something up there.”
“No. I don’t mean a dark fae who lives here. I mean something’s up there waiting for us. I just know it. I feel it.”
He stared at her for a long moment as if searching for an explanation in the certainty of her voice. “Okay. And is this someone waiting to kill us or kiss us?”
“I’m not kissing your skanky ass.” Niall stepped from the shadows ahead and gave Aislinn a long once-over. “Although I wouldn’t mind kissing—”
“Niall, what the fuck are you doing jumping us in dark alleys,” Gabriel yelled. “Do you know that your brother and his wife are in the Black Tower right now? The Shadow King got them.”
“Yeah, I know. I told them to keep moving, but they went to ground instead. Trusted people they shouldn’t.” He shook his dark head. “Bad mistake.”
“How did you find us?” Aislinn asked.
“I figured you’d be coming out of hiding to fight Aodh, so I set up a net around the Black Tower to tell me when you arrived.” He grinned at the look on their faces. “Don’t worry, my brother and I are the only mages left alive who can do that. Well, unless Aodh has enlisted the help of the Piefferburg witch, but I find that unlikely. Priss hates Aodh’s guts.”
“Are you coming to help us?” Aislinn asked.
“I’m helping you in order to help my brother and his wife.” He shrugged. “Also, I’d like to see Aodh taken down once and for all. The time of his reign has come to an end. I would much prefer to see a Shadow Queen on the throne of the Black Tower than a Shadow King for a while.” He gave her a deep bow. “Sídhe princess. I hope you will be my next liege.”
Aislinn’s whole body jerked as she realized for the first time what removing the Shadow King from his throne would mean. She was the next in line for possession. She was, for all intents and purposes, overthrowing the royal of the Unseelie Court and putting herself in his place. No matter her reasons for doing so, that was the end result.
Gods, she’d never signed on for this. She’d never dreamed of this, never wanted it.
The ironic part was that she’d never have made a move for the Shadow King’s throne if Aodh hadn’t tried to kill her and threatened those she loved. By trying to avoid the fate he most feared, he’d brought it about.
Niall took another step into the light, leaving one half of his body in shadow. The one bright blue eye that Aislinn could see glittered coldly. “So call your crew, Lord of the Wild Hunt, and let’s go take out the trash.”
TWENTY-ONE
AERIC had rented an apartment using cash and a false name during the last week. It was an anonymous place on an anonymous street in the border area between the ceantar dubh and the commercial district. A sticker on the door and a broken lock declared it had already been searched by the Shadow Guard. A sparse place, meant only for one person or maybe two, it had a single bedroom, one bath, and a small living room and kitchen. Today it fit six people and one dog.
The dog was a sleek black hound named Blix, a hunt hound, in fact. He’d come with Bran, who, according to Gabriel, had an affinity for animals. As far as Aislinn could tell, Bran seemed to get along better with four-footed living things than the two-footed variety. Though Bran had lost his furred friend early on when Blix had decided he liked Aislinn more. Lex, Bran’s crow, stuck close, however, never leaving Bran’s shoulder.
Now Aislinn sat on the floor of the bare living room, long gray skirt pooling around her ankles on the floor, while the others murmured in the kitchen. Melia had brought them both a change of clothes. Out in the kitchen, Gabriel spoke in that lighthearted, arrogant way he had, asking them how badly the Shadow King had questioned them about him. Now she knew there was much more under the surface of that carefree, rakish mask he wore. He was very concerned his friends had been in danger because of their connection to him, but he was trying not to show it.
“He questioned every woman who ever spent a night in your bed,” Aelfdane said, a smile in his voice. “It took him a long time.”
“Yeah, because fuck if that isn’t almost every woman in the Black Tower,” Aeric added.
Gabriel laughed. “That’s not true. I only sleep with the pretty ones.”
“Oh, really? Then how do you explain Aeria?” Melia chimed in.
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Aeria has gorgeous eyes and a—”
“—nice pair of tits,” Aeric finished for Gabriel.
Everyone laughed.
“Yes, well, we just want you back there and all returned to normal, so you can go back to your old ways,” Melia finished.
His old ways. Yes. Aislinn was sure Gabriel wanted that, too.
She leaned her head back against the wall behind her and threaded her fingers through the hound’s short hair. Tomorrow morning she would do all she could to ensure that happened. She wanted things back to normal for herself, too, whatever that new “normal” was going to be. As long as it wasn’t dead, she’d be okay.
However, the likelihood of her—of any of them—still being alive by tomorrow evening was somewhat in question. Okay, a lot in question. But that was something none of them talked about. Positivity was the name of the game on the eve of one’s death, apparently. She could see the allure.
They spent the day and evening planning for what would happen in the morning. By nightfall all of them had gone the way they’d come—one by one, cautiously, keeping to the shadows. At the window, she watched Bran ghosting away into the night with the odd Netherworld hound at his side and his crow like a smudge of charcoal perched on his shoulder. The moonlight silvered the pavement of the street and licked shadows up the sides of the nearby buildings.
She felt Gabriel more than heard him come to stand behind her. “Okay?”
Inhaling carefully, she took a moment to answer. “As okay as I can be on the eve we attempt to overthrow the Unseelie Court.”
“Surreal, isn’t it?”
“Unbelievable.” She paused. “You’re lucky to have such good friends.”
“They’re more than just friends; they’re my family. I’ve been with them since whatever mystic powers chose me for the Wild Hunt.”
She continued to stare out the window at the darkened street. Not a fae soul could be seen out there now. “How d
id it happen?”
He leaned down close to her back, a hand to each side of the windowsill, pinning her there, and spoke near her ear. “The previous Lord of the Wild Hunt died and his host disbanded. One night something—some force—pulled me from my sleep and compelled me to the top of the Black Tower. At the top were the others—Melia, Aelfdane, Aeric, and Bran. We just knew why we were there. I was the only one with the ability to call the Wild Hunt and the only one able to ride Abastor, the black horse who leads the others. Eventually, as my second in command, Aeric also developed the magick needed to call it down.” He chuckled. “But Aeric still can’t handle Abastor.”
“Were Melia and Aelfdane already married when they were called to be a part of the Furious Host?”
“No. They fell in love as a result of being on the hunt together.” He gave a low laugh and the sound in the darkness reminded her of fall wood smoke or the scent of a fine cigar. “They’re an odd couple, I guess. She’s so battle hardened and he’s deceivingly fragile looking, as a male Twyleth Teg, but they’re well suited and very happy with each other.”
“I get Aeric O’Malley. He’s very old, a blacksmith who can no longer craft the weaponry he used to in the old days. I remember the romantic story about him and his beautiful fiancé, Aileen. Emmaline Siobhan Keara Gallagher, the Summer Queen’s assassin, killed Aileen out of jealousy and Aeric was heartbroken. He is strong, loyal, and brave. Bit of a temper. Good sense of humor. He respects you.” She shook her head. “But I don’t get Bran.”
“Bran.” He let out a slow breath. “He’s in a different world most of the time. Quiet, dreamy. We think he’s mostly wilding, probably only just this side of Unseelie. His power is with the animals and with birds. He doesn’t talk just to hear his own voice. When he speaks it’s to say something worth hearing. He’s secretive, but I would trust him with my life.”
“You are trusting him with your life.”
“I am.”
“If you trust him, I trust him.”
