by Alicia Wolfe
I knocked back my shot of tequila. “Let’s get this over with.”
Ruby pouted, then turned her gaze to her pretty red daiquiri. “But I just started!”
“Take it with you.”
Holding it, she came with me toward the stairs. A well-built man in a red leather Speedo and nothing else approached me and grinned, revealing fangs. Of course, I thought. This place would have vampires.
“Was your father a thief?” he said. “Because your eyes—”
“Good grief,” I said. “You’d think a vampire could come up with some more original lines.”
His fanged face fell. I brushed past him and Ruby stumbled after me, trying to sip her daiquiri without ramming anyone.
“That was rude,” she said.
“If you want Zardoz back there, go for it.”
“I thought you liked bad boys.” Suddenly, she laughed. “I got it! You’re holding out for Davril, aren’t you?”
“Am not.”
She giggled. “Are too.”
We reached the stairs and started up them.
“You like good boys now,” she teased.
“Do not. Good boys are lame. I like ‘em rotten.”
“That’s what your lips say. Your eyes say, ‘Good boys are my gravy’.” She laughed and sipped her drink, tripping on the stairs. I was tempted to let her fall, she was being such a pain in the ass, but at the last moment I steadied her.
“I’m not holding out for anyone,” I said. “I’m living life for me, and me alone.”
“And me.”
“If I have to.”
We reached the top of the stairs and passed down a long hall whose ceiling showed a mural of demons flying against a midnight sky, their wings outstretched and bathed in moonlight, while below them naked people danced in a forest. I had to admit it was a nice mural. At least, it was well done. I wasn’t exactly rushing out to redo Ruby’s apartment in the same style.
“Where is he?” I said, meaning the Fae.
Ruby sipped, pointing with her free hand toward the end of the hall. “Down there.”
We pushed forward, having to carve our way through a crowd of sexy witches, or girls who were pretending to be witches, anyway. I was pretty sure Ruby was the only real witch here, and she wasn’t dressed like one.
“Anyway, you’re the one who should be dating,” I told her. “You’re young and free.”
“And you’re not?”
“I’m … preoccupied.”
“With Davril?” When I didn’t answer, she fell silent, and I turned to see her starting to look sad.
Great, I thought. She’s getting moody again.
“You mean because of Vincent Walsh, don’t you?”
I resisted the urge to barf. “Let’s not talk about that.”
“But that’s what you mean, right?”
I hesitated. “Well…”
“Yeah?” she pressed.
I let out a breath. The room we were moving toward was still far away. “I just … I’m so close. So close to finding him,” I said. “I bet if I could spend another few weeks combing through the Fae archives, I could find Walsh. And that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll find him, get my fire back, and nail that bastard for what he did to Dad and Gran.”
As I spoke, heat built in me, but not the good kind. It was an old, dark anger, and I knew if I let it grow, it would go out of control. I would go out of control. Keep a lid on it, Jade, I told myself. Pushing the anger back down, I said, “Anyway, I can’t allow myself to be distracted.”
Ruby glanced at me sideways. “Even by Davril?”
“Especially by Davril.”
She started to say something, then said instead, “We’re here.” She pointed to a chamber concealed by a bead curtain. The beads were blood red.
“He’s right through there,” she said. Straightening her spine, she took a last sip of her daiquiri and set it down on a nearby table. “Are you ready?”
“Let me listen in first.” I stretched out my shifter senses, picking up the sounds of Fae voices talking softly on the other side of the curtains. Unfortunately, the noise of the club was too loud. They spoke at such a low volume I couldn’t make out their words. I thought they might have been talking in Fae-ish.
“Anything?” Ruby asked.
I shook my head, then squared my shoulders. “Let’s go in.”
As commanding as we could be, we pushed through the crimson curtain and into a medium-sized room filled with red velvet couches and chairs. In the center, sprawled in the largest and highest-backed chair of them all like some demon, was the most beautiful Fae I had ever seen. Davril was the most handsome. This man was the most beautiful. Dressed in soft velvet like the chairs but of a gorgeous dark green shade, he had blond hair that fell in a cascade down his back, and little gems were set into it. They flashed brightly in the lights of the room. His face was long and his cheekbones high, and he had full, cruel lips. His eyes swung from the person he’d been speaking with—the man we’d followed—to me, and I was struck by the force in those cold green eyes. His eyes matched the green of the jewels in his hair and the velvet of his clothes.
He was, in a word, fabulous.
As soon as we entered, the other Fae in the room spun to face us. There was half a dozen of them, and each drew his or her sword except for the man in the chair. The blades glimmered like death.
Ruby made a squeaking noise beside me. I hoped they didn’t notice. We needed to project an image of strength, not fear.
“You won’t need those,” I told the sword-wielding Fae. “We’re not your enemies.”
They didn’t put the weapons away. They seemed to be waiting for the Fab Fae to give them orders.
Slowly, after letting his eyes linger on mine, he said, “You may sheathe your weapons.”
They complied and stepped back, creating a corridor through them so Ruby and I could pass down it toward the one in the chair. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to walk through that deadly corridor.
“Please,” said the master of the Fae, “approach.”
I swallowed. Ruby’s cheeks had paled and her eyes were fixed on the Fab Fae as if hypnotized. Well, he was quite a sight. I wasn’t sure if it was fear in her face or something else. I nodded to her, as if to reassure her, but I wasn’t sure she even saw me.
Swearing under my breath, I strode boldly toward Mr. Fabulous. Ruby hesitated a moment, then came after. The Fae to either side of us watched us coolly, but none of them reached for their weapons. That was something, at least.
“You really should post a guard outside if you’re going to conduct secret business in a public place,” I told Fabby.
He pursed his full lips. “Indeed. We are slowly learning the ways of this city. We admit the intricacies of subterfuge don’t come easily to us.”
“Is that the royal ‘us’?”
He inclined his head. “As is only appropriate.”
The Fae that Ruby and I had followed here cleared his throat. Glaring at us, he said, “You should kneel, mortals. You stand before His Exalted Highness, Lord Jereth of the Fae Throne.”
I gasped as shock ran through me. “Jereth!”
“Indeed, we are that worthy,” said the man in the chair.
“W-who’s Jereth?” Ruby said. Evidently she’d forgotten some of what I’d told her about the adventure with the golden antler.
“Queen Calista’s son!” I said. “The one who rose against her, then fled with his loyal faction.”
Prince Jereth’s blond brows lowered. “We did not rise against our mother. We attempted to liberate our people from the Fae Lands, and she prevented us.”
“Yeah, and then you rose against her.”
“We tried to save our people.”
“You would’ve opened this world up to being attacked by Lord Vorkoth!”
He waved a hand, as if dismissing the subject. “Who are you? Why have you come?”
The Fae we’d followed snapped his fingers, as if just recognizing us. “
They were at the pawnshop! In the back rooms. They must have come there to either buy or sell stolen magical items.”
Prince Jereth appraised me anew. Suddenly, his lips tilted up. “You must be the cat burglar. What was it, Magenta? No, Jade. Jade McClaren. And this must be your sister … Ruby.” He smirked at the astonishment on our faces.
“H-how did you know?” Ruby said.
“We’ve made it our business to know the patterns and familiars of our enemies.”
“Are the people of the Fae Court really your enemies?” I said.
“Those who do not side with us, yes,” Jereth said. He stroked his jaw and seemed to be considering something. I let him. I was very curious about him, and I knew that whatever he had to say could have some import to Davril and Queen Calista. In a way I might be an emissary between the two camps. At last he said, “We know you and Davril have been searching for the imp, Jade.”
Damn, he really has been spying on us. Who did this creep think he was? Other than the most beautiful, fabulous being on the planet, that was. And possibly one of the most powerful. I knew he must be many centuries old and was, despite everything, the heir to Queen Calista’s throne.
“That’s right,” I said. “But why are you after him—Federico, I mean? I overheard your man talking about it to Selma Queen. That’s why I followed him here. I know you’re trying to find a way to contain Federico. Which must mean you know where he is.”
Prince Jereth looked impressed. “Indeed. We can see why Lord Davril favors you so.”
“I wouldn’t call it favors…”
Ruby cleared her throat, and I glanced over to see her make a hurry-this-up gesture. What was her rush? It wasn’t every day we busted in on a secret meeting involving rogue Fae royalty. Besides, I hadn’t gotten all dolled up for nothing.
“It matters not,” Prince Jereth said. “Our business is our own. Consider it a courtesy that we let you live. You may go.”
Ruby let out an audible sigh, one of relief. She might be fascinated by Jereth, but she also recognized him as dangerous. I was sure she was right. Still…
I rounded on him. “You can’t be kicking us out.”
He leaned back in his chair, his expression going cool and aloof. “Oh, but we can. We have no business with you. It galls us to have to let you go since it means we can no longer meet in this locale, and it does fit our sense of the dramatic. Yet we suppose you will inform your allies that we met here; thus, it is spoiled.” He pursed his lips again, this time in pique.
I narrowed my eyes. “Listen here, Junior. You know where Federico is. I need that information.” I took a single aggressive step forward, reminding him of my prowess. If he knew anything about me, he knew I was no pushover. Then again, he was probably ten times more powerful than I was, and he was surrounded by lackeys who would die for him, and each one had probably trained in the martial arts for centuries. I was counting on his desire not to make a scene to protect me.
He didn’t even blink. “What is so important about this imp to you?”
“All I know is Mistress Angela went through a lot of trouble to kidnap him, and she serves the Shadow. Whatever she wants him for can only be bad news. It could mean the end of the Fae in our world. Hell, it could mean the end of the world itself. We must find him.”
Looking smug, Prince Jereth steepled his fingers below his chin. “You are a terrible negotiator, Jade McClaren. You have just told us you will do anything to get what we have.”
Gulp.
Ruby was looking like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find her voice. She probably wanted to tell me what a bonehead I was. I’d never seen her so tongue-tied before, and I would have been amused by it if I hadn’t been so pissed off at myself. Jereth was completely right. I’d just revealed my hand.
That was why he’d tried to send us away, I realized. He’d been bluffing, hoping I would get desperate and make some outrageous offer, and in a way I had.
Hearing the tension in my voice, I said, “Well, not anything…”
He smiled thinly, his green eyes penetrating me deeply. In that moment, no matter how fabulous he was, I knew he saw me as a woman … and he liked what he saw. I couldn’t help but find him attractive, too. Not only was he gorgeous and powerful, but he was also tall and lithely muscular; I could see that clearly through his tight, form-fitting velvet attire. The thumping of the goth-rock music in the background seemed to come as if from thousands of miles away, and it beat in time to my own heart.
Get it together, Jade, I told myself. This pompous windbag is just as dangerous as Mistress Angela, and if he gets what he wants it will have the same effect—the end of the world.
“Good,” he said. “We won’t ask for ‘anything’. We only ask for one thing—for you to hand Federico over to us once you have him.”
I opened and closed my mouth wordlessly. Finally, finding my voice, I said, “So … you do know where he is.”
“Indeed. You were right about that. But without a method to contain him it would be problematic to remove him from his present circumstances. But you are his friend, so we have come to understand. Or as close to one as he’s likely to encounter until he’s restored to the Compendium, if he ever is. He will go with you. And you will bring him to me.”
“Never! You’re just as bad as Angela.”
Prince Jereth’s face tightened. “We are not.” He clenched his jaw, and his fingers dug into the plush armrest of his throne-like chair. Visibly making himself relax, he said, “You will do this. Fear not, it will only be temporary. You will retrieve him with the information we will give you, then you will bring him to us. We will extract what we need from him and hand him right back over. You will restore him to the Compendium and no one will ever know of our transaction.”
Finally, Ruby found her own voice. “Don’t trust him, Jade.”
I nodded. “Prince Jereth, pardon me for saying so, but you’re full of shit.”
The Fae around us tensed, and several of their hands flew to the hilts of their swords. So did the hand of the man we’d followed here, who had taken his place beside the other Fae soldiers. Now they all hovered around us, silent sentinels of death waiting to mete out punishment for my lack of respect.
Prince Jereth only looked amused. “You think we’re asking, don’t you, Jade McClaren?”
“Stop saying my full name. It’s giving me the creeps.”
He reclined back in his seat again. As he did, he crossed one shapely leg over the other at the knee. He wore tall boots of soft leather. Leering at me out of his long, pale, beautiful face, he said, “You were in the back rooms of the pawnshop, our associate says. That means you were about your old occupation, doesn’t it?”
“W-what? No!” Shit shit shit.
His eyes glittered savagely. “But it does. You were thieving again, which violates the code of our mother’s knighthood. If Lord Davril but knew, he would cast you out. You would never be allowed in the Palace again. You would never be able to paw through their archives in search of this man you hate, this … yes, Vincent Walsh.”
His memory was uncanny. “You bastard!”
I took another step forward. This time Ruby laid a hand on my shoulder, bringing me back to reality. I stopped and sucked in a deep breath.
Prince Jereth tilted his head back, throwing his face deeper into shadow. Still his eyes stared at me, hellish pinpricks in the gloom. “You will retrieve Federico for us. Or else you will be ruined. Go. Now. Find him. I will come for you after.”
I had to fight myself not to punch him, or more likely try to punch him and then get stabbed for the effort by seven blades. That was, if he didn’t simply catch my blow in his mighty fist and tear my arm off.
“Where?” I said, hearing the desperation in my voice. “Where is he?”
“The same place Mistress Angela is,” Prince Jereth said. “In Central Park.”
Chapter 9
That bastard,” I fumed as we rode Ruby’s broomstick back towar
d our apartment in Gypsy Land. “I’ll get that bastard, see if I don’t. With all his ‘we’s’ and ‘ours’ and ‘us’es—aargh! I want to strangle him!”
Ruby banked to the right, throwing me off balance. Grinding my teeth, I threw my arms around her waist and held on. She was driving like a demon. The confrontation had obviously gotten under her skin.
In a low, strange voice, she said, “He was dreamy.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake! He’s an asshole!”
“I don’t know about that. He just wants to save his people.”
“But he’s wrong! He’ll just doom us all.”
“I know, but he doesn’t think of it like that. In his mind, he’s just doing what’s right.” She shook herself. “But what did he mean by threatening you with telling Davril about returning to your old life?” A hurt tone crept into her voice. “I thought … I mean, earlier … at the doll factory … I thought you had returned to your old life.”
Pain knifed through me, along with guilt. Fuck, I thought. Ruby hadn’t realized it had been an under-the-radar, must-never-speak-of-again thing. She thought that I meant to go back to The Life full time. I’d never meant to give her that impression, but I could see how I might have accidentally.
Giving her a hug, I said, “Davril can never know, Ruby. Not if you want to avenge Dad and Gran. Not if you want me to get my fire back.”
A long moment of silence passed. Wind whipped around us, cold and howling. Luckily Ruby’s spells and her heat stone kept the worst of it off us.
“So you’re not going to start burglaring again?” she said, an edge to her voice. She was about to start crying.
If she started, I would, too. Shit, my throat was starting to close just thinking about it.
I put a smile into my voice. “Of course I’m coming back to burglaring. I guess … well, I have to. Now that I think about it. I mean, we helped that family tonight. Along with countless others. We’re doing good work. And we got paid for it, too. Just a little while ago I had trouble paying for my Skycab. A source of income would be really appreciated. But Davril can’t know about it, nor can any of the Fae Lords. Except Jereth, obviously. The bastard!” I started to go off on another rant, but checked myself. Breathing out through my clenched teeth, I added, “But you understand, right?”
