by Anya Bast
He grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him. The shadows half concealed his expression, moonlight catching the other side in pale silver. He stared down at her for a moment before dipping his head and catching her lips against his.
She’d meant to push him away. She’d meant to tell him no if he tried this tonight. But now all her protests dried in her throat. At dawn she was bringing an army of unforgiven dead down on the head of the Unseelie Royal. By tomorrow at around brunch time, it was doubtful she’d even still be alive. Why not take this night and spend it in the kind of ecstasy she knew only Gabriel could give her? Saying no to him didn’t make sense, not at this point.
She rose up on her toes and pushed back at him aggressively, her teeth nipping at his lower lip. He shuddered against her and yanked her up against his chest, his mouth slanting over hers. Forcing her lips apart, he slid his tongue within to dance against her tongue. Fisting handfuls of her skirt, he dragged the material upward, rubbing his palms against her outer thighs, then going higher.
He pushed her back, so she half sat on the windowsill, and yanked her underwear down. She helped him get them off her legs as her fingers quested and found the button and zipper of his jeans. She stroked his length as soon as it was in her hand, and he groaned. She couldn’t wait to have it inside her.
“Wait. No, no,” he murmured, cupping her face in his hands and forcing her to look at him. “I want you slower than this, better.”
She nipped his lower lip again. “We have all night.” She laughed a little against his mouth. “What? Did you think you’d sleep tonight? I won’t be able to.” Her fingers danced along the underside of his cock. “Might as well have something to do.”
“Bad girl.”
“Apparently I’m the worst. Just ask the Shadow King.”
“No.” He shook his head and nipped her throat in almost a punishing way. “No, we’re not going to talk about him. His name doesn’t cross your lips again tonight.” He smiled and kissed her, a sweet drag of his mouth over hers. “Anyway, I can think of better uses for those lips.”
She thrust her hips forward and found the slick head of his cock. He slid inside her and her head fell back on a moan as he pushed deep within. Kissing the arch of her throat, he moved inside her, taking away the horror of the upcoming battle and the uncertainty that dawn would bring.
“THEY’RE here.” The words slid like ice down the back of Aislinn’s throat. Her fingers curled into the silky fur of the hound that stood waist-high beside her. Blix was an ever-present fixture this morning.
She could feel the sluagh a moment before they appeared in the square. The chill of them touched the back of her neck and slid beneath her shirt. The sluagh winked into existence before her, a shimmering gray army of unforgiven dead.
Each of them held a weapon. Some fisted hammers, some swords; others wielded scythes. No matter the weapon they gripped, all of them struck fear into the hearts of those few who could view them in their noncorporeal form. She was glad this was happening now, in the early predawn hours, before the city was filled with onlookers.
A split second after they appeared, Aislinn commanded them before they could act of their own volition. “Sluagh, obey me. Stand still and do not move until I order it.” She raised her arm and her voice boomed out of her, shivers of magick rocking her on her feet.
The sluagh went stock-still at her command. Even the slight rustle of moving bodies stopped.
She took a careful breath and touched Blix at her side for support. Her other hand gripped the charmed iron dagger Gabriel had given her. The twisted leather grip felt good in her hand. “Sluagh, take corporeal form.”
A subtle sound, something like the faint creaking of leather, filled the air and the sluagh were corporeal. Making them corporeal meant everyone could see them instead of just herself, Gabriel, and the Furious Host. A murmured hush rose like a wave in the square interspersed with a few surprised screams.
“Oh, fuck,” breathed Niall on her other side.
Behind them, in the Black Tower, the inhabitants had begun to stir. Shouting and pounding feet, all coming closer. Alarm at the sight in the square. The sluagh seemed to frighten even the goblins.
“Aislinn,” said Gabriel. “I would hurry if I were you. The goblins are on their way.”
Yes, Shadow King would have ordered them to the square already. “Legion of unforgiven dead, sluagh, hear my commands. You will hunt down the royal of the Unseelie Court, Aodh Críostóir Ruadhán O’Dubhuir. Once you find him, you will return from whence you came . . . taking Aodh Críostóir Ruadhán O’Dubhuir with you. Anyone who raises a hand against you, you have permission to battle. Otherwise, you will raise your hand to no one, harm no one, as you execute my wish.” She paused, hearing the approaching horde behind her.
The doors of the Black Tower opened; men and monsters poured through.
“Aislinn,” Gabriel said again, his voice full of warning.
“Move, sluagh, go! Carry out my order!” she yelled.
Gabriel yanked her to the side, sweeping her out of the way just as the first wave of Shadow Guard and goblin combatants washed forth from the Black Tower into the square. The black hound bounded alongside her and Gabriel. On their other side were Melia, Aelfdane, Aeric, Bran, and Niall. Overhead Lex flew in a wide circle over the square. From a distance away, in the gray early morning murk, the two sides—the sluagh and the forces commanded by the Black Tower—collided.
The sluagh were merciless and efficient. Killing machines. That was how Aislinn knew they would win. The Black Tower didn’t stand a chance against this army of immortal unforgiven dead. Not against all-too-mortal goblins and men.
Aislinn wanted to turn her face away from it, but she was ultimately responsible for it. Therefore she needed to watch. She needed to see every one of the Shadow King’s supporters fall in their defense of him, every drop of blood spilled. She needed to see every goblin life lost, goblins who didn’t fight of their own free will, but because they were enslaved by the Shadow Amulet and compelled by the Unseelie Royal’s will.
She had set this into motion and she needed to see and take responsibility for it all.
“Come on,” said Gabriel. “We’ve got to use this chaos to slip into the Black Tower.”
“Here come the goblins,” Aeric yelled. “Straight at us.”
“Hells!” Niall answered, watching in horror with the rest of them as the horde of goblins—released on the populace by the Shadow King, no doubt—poured in among the sluagh and fought them for the highest horror honors.
The sluagh and the goblins were controlled by Aislinn and the Shadow King respectively. The difference was that Aislinn had instructed the sluagh not to harm innocents. She was certain the Shadow King had given no such order to the goblins.
A seven-foot-tall powerie with his bald head dyed bloodred attacked Aelfdane, swinging a club at his head, which he ducked and missed by a hair. Melia screamed and attacked with a blast that sent the powerie careening backward. Melia was one of the only Unseelie fae able to use her magick that way, luckily enough for her husband.
That drew attention to them and the next attack came from a goblin to their right. The gibbering creature flew at Aislinn. Gabriel knocked the goblin to the side with a heavy fist, preventing it from slamming into her and sinking its teeth into her flesh. Of course the goblins were gunning for her in the melee, under orders from their liege. Gabriel followed up, beating it back away from her with a vicious vengeance she’d never seen in him before.
Then it seemed as if the entire goblin army attacked them at once. Gabriel gave a battle roar, Aeric, Melia, Aelfdane, and Bran right beside him, all ready for bloodshed. Aislinn had never even pulled someone’s hair. She stood for a breathless, stricken moment, wide-eyed and allowing Gabriel to defend her, before her survival instinct kicked in, full force.
Two goblins came for her at once. Blix, the black hunt hound, leapt toward the throat of one, and she brought her dagger u
p fast and hard. It struck the creature’s midsection, gushing hot blood down her hand. The goblin dropped to the cobblestone at her feet. She stared down at him for a moment in shock, the dagger hanging limply from her fingers.
But then another was on her, and another. Soon Aislinn was wielding the blade like it was a third appendage. Disconnected from her mind, her body fought from primal instinct—she wanted to survive. Her body twisted, the dagger slashed and her booted feet kicked.
Long claws tore her shirt, drawing blood on her stomach and thighs. One of them raked her upper arm with its teeth, rending shallow, jagged marks through her flesh.
“We have to get out of here. They’re coming for Aislinn. There’s too many of them,” yelled Aeric over the din. He pivoted on his heel and engaged another attacking goblin.
“Tae marjian sa glas elle bea!” Gabriel yelled at the sky in Old Maejian.
Immediately wind swooshed down around them and the full Wild Hunt host was there. Gabriel threw himself up onto the back of the rippling black horse that had to be Abastor and pulled her up astride. Aeric mounted an enormous chestnut quarter horse. Melia and Aelfdane bounded up on a white Arabian and Niall and Bran both took huge bays. Then they were all in the air just as a goblin hand full of sharp claws breezed past her leg.
She clung to the horse and to Gabriel, staring down at the horde below them. It spilled across Piefferburg Square, almost to the statue in the center. It swarmed into the Black Tower and throughout and around it, into the alleys and streets of the ceantar dubh. The sluagh looked as if they were pushing inside the building in a concerted effort—a deadly arrow pointing to her prey. That meant the Shadow King was inside. Per her directive, the sluagh would flow to his presence like a river to the ocean. She was sure it wouldn’t be that easy, though. The Shadow King had to be expecting this and he’d have something up his sleeve.
Right now they just needed to get to Bella and Ronan. They’d deal with the rest when they got to it.
The Wild Hunt set down on the top of the Black Tower and Gabriel slid off the mystical Wild Hunt horse, Abastor, pulling her down after him.
Carina shimmered into view just as the rest of them were dismounting.
Before they’d entered the square and Gabriel had called the sluagh, Aislinn had summoned Carina, remembering what she’d said about wanting to make amends. Aislinn had requested that Carina go to the Black Tower in noncorporeal form, locate Bella and Ronan, and return with information.
“Did you find them?” asked Aislinn.
Niall looked at her like she was crazy and Aislinn remembered that he was the only one who couldn’t see spirits. To him it looked like she was talking to air.
Carina nodded. “They’re being kept in the Shadow King’s quarters. Ronan has been drugged and is unconscious. Bella is well enough, but cuffed in charmed iron and very frightened for Ronan. The Shadow King is with them. I think he’s waiting for you.” She paused. “Be careful, Aislinn. There’s magick at the door, a kind of impassable boundary.”
“We will.” She smiled. “I forgive you, Carina.”
Carina let out a long, slow breath and seemed to become almost physically lighter, which was an odd impression to have, considering Carina wasn’t physical at all. “Thank you.”
“Now go and do whatever it is you do over there. I wish you could tell me.”
A smile flickered across her face. “I wish I could, too. Good-bye.”
And she was gone. This time forever.
When Aislinn turned, the horses and hounds were gone and the host and Niall were all looking at her for instruction. “I know where we need to go and we better hurry. The goblins will be on the move.” She paused, looking at each of them in turn. “Thank you for doing this, for risking everything to throw in with me this way. I just want to say that I never intended for this to happen. But now that it has, I appreciate your support.”
Aeric stepped forward. “We couldn’t stand aside knowing what the Shadow King has done to his mother, to you, to the former Lord of the Wild Hunt and undoubtedly many others. We may be Unseelie, but that doesn’t mean we support the cruel and vicious. As far as we’re concerned, you’re the rightful holder of the Shadow Throne.”
She shivered as she always did when the full impact of the day’s events—if they were successful—fully hit her.
“Now, come on,” said Gabriel. “We need to move.”
TWENTY-TWO
THE sluagh had already swarmed around the door of the Shadow King’s apartment. Dead goblins lay on the floor at their feet.
“Carina said there was a kind of warding,” Aislinn said, watching the sluagh milling restlessly in the hallway, unable to enter and carry out her commands.
“Yes.” Aelfdane reached out and touched the outside wall of the apartment. He closed his eyes for a moment. “He’s got some kind of barrier up against the sluagh. They can’t enter.”
Niall ran his hand along the wall. “If you get me in there, I can probably break it. Any mage worth his salt could. That’s probably why he’s got Ronan out cold.”
“I can take care of that.” Gabriel kicked the door open and immediately a volley of heavy magick crashed through the air in cloying waves toward them. They all hit the floor. The sluagh tried to surge through the open doorway, but failed to push through.
Beside her, Niall muttered something in Old Maejian. The waves of power relented, but the sluagh still couldn’t pass. He’d broken Aodh’s assault, but hadn’t broken the barrier.
“Niall, you always ruin my fun,” said the Shadow King. His cool, calm voice shivered through Aislinn.
Aislinn raised her head from under Gabriel’s protective arm and glanced up to see the Shadow King standing in the center of the foyer with Bella in his grasp. She was bound by charmed iron cuffs, wrists in front of her, as Carina had said. She was also gagged and blindfolded. Blood trickled down the pale skin of her throat from the curved knife that the Shadow King was pressing to her flesh. Bella didn’t slump or cower and she didn’t whimper. She stood straight and tall. If Aislinn were going to name what emotion Bella’s body language broadcast, she would say it was anger.
Aislinn leapt to her feet. “Release her!” The others also rose.
Barthe lurked in the corner, half hidden in the shadows behind his liege. Ronan was nowhere in sight and that made her heart skip a beat. Carina had said he was all right and she had to hope that was true.
The Shadow King gave her a withering look. “I’m not a sluagh to do your bidding, daughter.”
She shuddered. “Don’t call me that.” Cautiously, she picked her way past the sluagh and entered the room to stand a distance away from the Shadow King in the large foyer of his apartment. Gabriel and the others were right behind her.
He poked Bella’s throat with the knife, making her head jerk to get away from it. “You’re hardly in a position to dictate to me. I’ll call you what I choose.”
“There are five hundred sluagh just waiting to get in here and take you away with them, father. I think you’re the one unable to dictate terms.”
“In order for the sluagh to get in, Niall would have to break the barriers, and considering it was Ronan who constructed them, I find that eventuality unlikely. What? You look confused. Yes, Ronan built the barriers that are keeping me safe. It’s amazing what a man will agree to if you threaten the woman he loves enough.” He poked the tip of the blade against Bella’s throat and her blood welled. Bella inhaled sharply through her nose. Her throat was a bloody mess of shallow wounds.
“Stop it!”
He grinned, showing teeth. “No.” He pushed the tip in farther and Bella’s body tensed. “Here’s the deal, daughter of mine. I want to do an exchange, you for Bella. You will die by this blade right now, but your soul will live on. You can haunt me until the end of my days. Bella and Ronan will leave here to live out the rest of their very long lives. The sluagh will dissipate with your death and all this silliness will come to an end.” He paused. �
�If you don’t agree, you will watch Bella die right now. There’s no way Niall will be able to break the barriers in time to save her. Understand? What’s your answer?”
She didn’t believe him.
In order to keep the Shadow Throne safe, all of those involved in this mess would have to die. He wouldn’t trust any of them not to make trouble down the line. No, this wasn’t as easy as simply giving up her life for Bella’s. She wasn’t naïve enough to believe that. More like, once she was dead and the sluagh were gone, the king would order the goblins to rip the rest of them to shreds.
Beside her, Niall muttered in an endless stream of Old Maejian interspersed with curses when he failed to break down what his brother had erected.
“Where’s Ronan?” she asked.
“Safe,” Aodh barked. “Stop stalling for time.”
“I never wanted your throne, Aodh,” she growled at him. “If you had left me alone, ignorant of my unfortunate biological parentage, I would have continued on, lived out my life, and none of this would be happening right now.”
“I couldn’t take that chance. Now toss that dagger aside and come to me.”
She gripped the leather handle of her weapon tighter.
“Make your decision.” He dug the blade into Bella’s neck and started to cut. Bella’s scream, muffled by the gag she wore, sliced through Aislinn.
She dropped the dagger to the foyer floor with a clatter and held up her hands. “All right!”
Gabriel pulled her against his body. “No.”
“I have to.” She pushed him away and took a step toward Aodh, glancing back and meeting Niall’s eyes. The mage was still muttering like mad. He shook his head, indicating he was no closer to breaking the barrier. They needed the sluagh desperately.
“On one condition,” said Gabriel, stepping forward. “I want to accompany her and aid in making the exchange.”
The royal barked out a laugh. “Do you think I’m an idiot? I haven’t remained the Shadow King for over five hundred years without considering every angle. Stay back and don’t move. Disobey and Bella dies.”
