Oak & Thorns

by Yasmine Galenorn

  Straff was frantically trying to beat out the flames traveling up the wick of vegetation. Viktor reached his side and roughly yanked him down, throwing him onto the floor, where he promptly knelt on Straff’s back. The fire died away as Viktor bound Straff’s arms behind his back with the piece of rope that Herne threw to him, hog-tying the Ante-Fae.

  Herne gently lifted me out of the pile of canes, setting me atop the counter. Then he pulled out a small vial from his pocket and squeezed Straff’s nose until the Ante-Fae gasped for air. The moment Straff opened his mouth, Herne poured the contents of the vial down his throat and Straff immediately slumped to the side, unconscious.

  “That will hold him till we get him back to my father,” Herne said.

  Viktor crossed to Astrana, kneeling. “She’s dead.”

  “Of course. My aim almost always hits true.” Herne sounded so casual that it made me wince, but then I remembered that the woman had not only shot at me, but tried to stab me as well. She had been ruthless and the world was better off without her in it.

  I glanced around. “What next?”

  “We take this freak back to Cernunnos. And then, damage control.” Herne paused, stopping to pat down Straff. He pulled a wallet out of his pocket. “Hmm, didn’t Rosetta say a man named ‘Roland’ called her editor?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  He tossed the wallet to me, There was a driver’s license inside that read “Roland Straff.”

  “That answers that. Any bets that the man Chance’s wife was fucking went by the same name?” Herne laughed roughly. “I’ll bet she never saw the inside of this place.”

  “What’s with his stripes? The markings?” I asked, watching as the markings slowly reappeared on the unconscious Ante-Fae.

  “My bets are that Blackthorn can do the same. Many of the Ante-Fae have ways of altering their appearance. It’s part of their glamour, though I imagine some aspects are almost involuntary. You have Fae glamour, though you don’t know how to use it. Yet.” Herne looked at me. “The Ante-Fae have far stronger abilities in altering their appearances. Viktor, will you carry Astrana’s body? We need to take her with us. I’m going to call John and ask him to get the portal ready. You’ll both need to come with me. I can’t manage Straff and a corpse.”

  Viktor obligingly slung Astrana’s body over his shoulder.

  I glanced around the room. “Is there anything we need to take?”

  “No. I’m going to call Talia and have her and Angel come out here to search the place before the clean-up crew comes in. I’ll tell all of the vines to retreat.” He closed his eyes, holding out his hands toward the mass of canes and ivy. The next moment, the vegetation began beating a hasty retreat. I turned to head back downstairs, but Viktor yanked open the front door and busted through the boards on the front of the building. We exited into the night, bruised, scratched up from the thorns, and more than a little battered, but with our quarry.

  THE TRIP THROUGH the portal went smoothly, and on the other side, Trospos was waiting for us with specially made handcuffs, ankle-cuffs, and a ball-gag. Straff was just beginning to wake as we bound and gagged him. He struggled briefly, but gave up as the shackles seemed to drain his energy. He shot a vicious look toward us, but the gag prevented him from speaking as two of the Elves carried him ahead of us.

  This time, the journey went quicker. We went through a different route that was lined by members of Cernunnos’s court. They bowed deeply as Herne passed through their ranks, but he took no notice as he strode along in front of Viktor and me, all business. There was now something autocratic about him, reminding me of his father. He was Cernunnos’s son, all right.

  We passed through the brightly lit hallways, with everyone making way as we passed through. The polished wooden floors of the tree palace gleamed so brightly I could see our reflections in them as we marched along, and I focused on that, feeling awkward and all-too conspicuous.

  In the throne room, Cernunnos waited. He was sitting atop his throne, leaning forward as Trospos motioned for the Elves to place the prisoner before him. Another Elf, who had taken Astrana’s body from Viktor, laid her out beside Straff. Cernunnos motioned for everyone else to back away as we neared the throne.

  “Well met, Ember and Viktor. I see you’ve managed the capture, my son?” Cernunnos rose, descending the steps of the throne to peer into Straff’s face. He towered over the lanky Ante-Fae, and as he stared at Straff, he let out a derisive laugh. “I’ve spoken to your father. He gives me leave to do with you as I will.” He motioned for one of the Elves to remove Straff’s gag. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

  “Hypocrite. You can’t tell me you’ve never toyed with humans for your own pleasure. I did so for my life, rather than out of fun.” Straff spit out the words, his eyes narrowing. “But you have me, and you have my father’s permission. Be done with it. What is your will?”

  “I toy with humans as I will, but not for perverted amusement. You fed on their pain and torture, as well as their life force and blood. That I will never do,” Cernunnos said, wrinkling his nose as though he smelled something disgusting. He let out a sigh. “Is there any hope you might reform yourself? I do not wish to be at odds with the Ante-Fae.”

  I blinked. Could Straff simply say yes and get away with everything? But I should have known it wasn’t that simple.

  The Ante-Fae was sweating now, and he blinked furiously. “You know I cannot lie to you, Lord of the Hunt. Not with the spells you’ve woven so heavily around yourself. Reform? Why should I? I take my pleasure with my need. I must feed and I let myself enjoy the process. I won’t lie about my nature. I inherited it from my father, you know.”

  I stepped back. The energy was growing heavier as it spun a vortex, a mire of anger and hatred and delight in all things savage and painful.

  Straff laughed. “I expect no better from him, though. The King of Thorns is the king of treachery. If he were weak enough to plead my case to you, I would lose all respect for him. Do as you will. I will bathe in your fires and emerge stronger and brighter. Unless you kill me, you will never triumph over me.”

  Cernunnos returned to his throne and took up his oaken spear. He pointed it at Straff. The tip glittered wickedly, sharpened to a keen point.

  “Hear my decree. Straff, Prince of Thorns, son of Blackthorn, King of Thorns. My command is that you be incarcerated in the deepest lair of my dungeons until such time that I deem you worthy of being set free. By the power of Oak and Ash and Thorn, so I do ordain.” As Cernunnos spoke, the air in the room grew even thicker. It felt like sparks were arcing along my arms. A thunderclap rippled through the air, echoing around the chamber.

  As the reverberation faded, Cernunnos motioned to Trospos, who hurriedly set three of the Elves to take away Straff. The Ante-Fae slumped as they affixed a collar of iron around his neck. He let out a moan as they dragged him off.

  “Iron? How long will he wear the collar?” I couldn’t imagine someone draping an iron collar around my neck. The pain and discomfort would be constant.

  “As long as he stays in my dungeons,” Cernunnos said, and I heard the warning in his voice.

  Never question a god when his mind is made up.

  “As to the dead Fae…I will speak with Névé. Leave the body here.” Cernunnos’s gaze flickered over the three of us, but today there was none of the gracious manner that had greeted me the last time. The god seemed impatient for us to leave.

  Herne read his father better than anybody, I thought.

  He bowed low. “We will return home, if you give us leave.”

  “Yes, you must leave. I’ve much on my mind and need peace in order to think. Go home, and make no mention of this to anyone until I’ve thought through matters. There will be ramifications from imprisoning Straff, but they shouldn’t be as great as if you had killed him.”

  “What about the victims’ families? Should we…” My words trailed off as Cernunnos turned b
ack to me, his expression so stern that I bit my tongue in an attempt to turn invisible.

  “Did you not hear what I just said? Say nothing. You may go.” And with the wave of his hand, he dismissed us.

  Herne grabbed my elbow and quickly turned me around. Viktor was right on our heels as we exited the throne room. We said nothing until we were back at the portal, and crossing back into John’s yard.

  “CRAP. I BLEW it, didn’t I? Will he forgive me for speaking out of turn?” I turned to Herne as we stumbled back through the scarlet oaks.

  “No worries.” Herne let out a long sigh. “He’ll forget all about it. Probably. He has something on his mind, but I can tell that he’s not ready to talk about it. But next time you meet him and he’s in one of his moods, just keep quiet. It just makes matters so much simpler.” He kissed me on the forehead. “How are you both feeling?”

  “It’s nearly four in the morning, we just got the crap beat out of us by a bunch of bloodthirsty blackberry bushes, and I don’t know about Viktor, but I feel like a pincushion. That good enough?” My tone was sharper than I meant it to be, but I was feeling unnerved.

  Herne stared at me for a moment, then shook his head. “I guess I deserve that. Come on, let’s get back to the hotel.” He put in a quick call to Talia, then motioned to his car. We had driven together so that Viktor could hold Straff down in the backseat, should the Ante-Fae have woken up. “We need to stop by the building to pick up Yutani’s car, but after that, back to our rooms and some much-needed rest.”

  Rest we got. The moment we reached the hotel, Talia and Angel took over, helping Viktor and me doctor our wounds from the bramble canes. They also had sandwiches and hot cocoa for us, and as soon as we ate, we all staggered to our rooms and passed out. Everything else could wait for morning to sort out.

  HERNE LET US sleep in. But promptly at nine, he knocked on our door. Angel had woken me up fifteen minutes earlier and I was brushing my wet hair back into a ponytail to dry. I had dressed in a pair of shorts, which showed off all the nifty bruises and cuts on my legs, and a tank top, hoping for an easier day.

  “Breakfast awaits in the dining room, ladies. Talia’s ordering for all of us. And my father called me this morning.” He stopped, staring at me. “You’re so beautiful.”

  “I’ll meet you downstairs,” Angel said, leaving us alone as she closed the door behind her.

  I ducked my head. “I’m covered with scratches and cuts from thorny plants and bruises. And I don’t have my makeup on yet.”

  “Do you really think that makes you any less beautiful to me? Any of that?” He sauntered over, wearing a pair of black leather pants and a muscle shirt that showed every lovely curve of his biceps. His ass looked pretty good, too. He leaned against me, taking me in his arms as he nuzzled my neck.

  “You know it’s wrong when your boyfriend looks prettier than you do,” I whispered, pressing one hand on his chest.

  He brushed my hair back from my face, kissing my forehead, then my nose, then brought his lips down to meet mine. His tongue darted into my mouth and he pulled me tighter, the kiss intensifying as it set off sparks throughout my body, ricocheting through my stomach to stoke the fire building between my legs.

  “Don’t we have to go down to breakfast?” I whispered, catching his lips again, nipping at them.

  “So we’re a little late. Who’s going to care?” His hand slid under my tank top, stroking upward to cup my breast. He fingered my bra, his fingers spiraling against the material as my nipples grew hard against his touch.

  I let out a gasp, reaching down to stroke against the front of his pants. He hardened behind the leather, pressing against the supple material. And then, the heat of the rut exploded between us. As the wave of desire crashed over me, I stripped off my tank and shorts. Herne shed his pants and shirt, and we dove onto the bed. Leisurely foreplay went out the window as he shoved me back, holding my arms against the bed.

  “I need you.” His voice was throaty, low with lust.

  I let out a grunt, freeing my arms. As I dragged him between my legs, his chest pressed against my naked breasts. He drove himself into me, his shaft spreading me wide as he filled every inch of my waiting pussy. The hunger grew more demanding.

  “Ride me, damn it.” I wanted him in every corner, every niche I had. I wanted him so deep within me that nothing would separate us. “Fuck me, hard.”

  And he did.

  Hard and quick, his breath was heavy in my ear as he rode me on the crest of our passion. I clasped his ass with my hands, holding him firm as his thrusts came harder, making me so wet that all I could focus on was his presence inside of me.

  I was crying then, and I didn’t know why. But with the tears came release, hard and quick, and then once again. As the orgasms rippled through me, Herne dropped his head back, letting out a shout as he came. He thrust again, then once more, before he collapsed on my chest.

  We lay there in a sweaty embrace for a moment until he gently rolled to the side.

  “I needed you.” He paused, looking down at me, then kissed me gently. “Are you good?”

  I nodded. Something had shifted with our fucking. We hadn’t been making love, it had been too carnal and driven for that, but it had bound us together with a magic that I couldn’t even explain to myself.

  “I’m good.” I slowly pushed myself up to a sitting position, wondering if we should talk about it. Herne was looking at me differently, but it was a good look. A loving look. A look that told me he truly saw who I was and he accepted everything he saw.

  Finally, I whispered, “We’re holding up breakfast.” Whatever we had to say would come in its own time. For now, we had our passion. And we had each other.

  With a laugh, he swatted my ass as I crawled out of bed. We took a quick shower to rinse off the sweat, then dressed and headed down to the dining room. I felt as though I was glowing.

  EVERYBODY WAS THERE, but conspicuously avoided asking why we were late, although Talia snorted as we took our chairs. There was a brunch buffet set out, and I loaded my plate with eggs and bacon, toast and fruit, and sausage. When we were all set with drinks and food, we went over what had happened with the others, letting Herne take the lead.

  “My father said that we can tell Rhiannon we caught the killer, but we can’t say anything about who he is, or what happened with him. But I hope she’ll be comforted to know that he’s been taken into custody.”

  “What about the Douglas woman? She was hoping for some closure,” I said, waving a piece of bacon at him.

  Herne laughed. “Eat that or I’ll take it away from you. Yes, we can tell her the same thing. But that’s all. As to Astrana, that’s a trickier subject. We’re not to say a word. Morgana is going to take care of cleanup on that.”

  “You mean we don’t even mention it when we talk to Rhiannon?” I wondered how we could avoid that subject, but Herne simply nodded.

  “Yes, that’s what I mean. Or anybody else. This case remains under lock and key for now.”

  “What about Blackthorn?” Yutani asked. “We just…leave him be?”

  Herne bit into a muffin, chewing silently for a moment. “Yeah. But we’re on his radar now. Ember’s definitely on his radar. In the way of the Ante-Fae, we owe him a favor. He allowed us to go after his son without disputing it, so we’re in his debt. And being in debt to one of the Ante-Fae? Never a good thing.”

  “On that note, Angel and I found several interesting things when we went through Straff’s hideout,” Talia said. “One was a tunnel in the basement that leads out to the shore—right to where they found the bodies.” She shrugged. “So now we know more about how he was operating.”

  “That explains what the elementals showed me about how he got the bodies down to the water. What else did you find?”

  Talia glanced around the room to make certain no one was eavesdropping, then pulled out a small satin bag. She set it on the table and opened it. Out spilled a g
orgeous amethyst necklace, a ruby ring, and several other assorted jewels.

  “These aren’t made by any human jeweler,” Herne said after a glance.

  Talia nodded. “Right. They’re old—very old, and they reek with magic. We’ll have to analyze them to figure out just what they are, so don’t go trying them on. Otherwise, we didn’t find much except for one major find. Down in the basement we found a trapdoor that leads to a bone pit. I’m pretty sure that the remains are those of a number of the missing victims. The bones looked gnawed on. Why Straff ate some of them and just dumped some of the bodies, I don’t know, but it was gruesome.”

  Angel shuddered, nodding. “Even though the bones were old and nearly picked clean, I don’t think I’ll forget about it anytime soon.”

  “A team from my father’s realm will be here shortly. They’ll make certain that everything telling vanishes. There won’t be anything left to tip off anybody,” Herne said. “We can’t chance this getting out to the human population. Father says that the Oracle told him in no uncertain terms to keep it all squashed. Danu herself contacted him this morning.”

  “Oracle?” Angel asked.

  Herne shook his head. “It’s too early to talk about the nature of the Oracle. Leave it to say, when she speaks, we listen.”

  “You were up bright and early,” I said to him.

  “Oh, I haven’t slept at all. I’m afraid this case isn’t over yet. But for now, it will be marked closed and we can lay it to rest, just like Jona. But don’t forget what’s happened here. I have no doubt we’ll be revisiting a few of the particulars later on, once Cernunnos gives us the go-ahead.”

  I wondered what else was bubbling under the surface, but knew better than to ask. I had learned my lesson. When the gods were ready to talk, they would. Until then? Leave well enough alone.

  Herne gathered up the jewels and tucked them away as we finished our breakfast in silence.