So, Butler’s evening had been spent with his now constant friend – whiskey. A lot of whiskey. And at some point, enough whiskey that he’d passed out.
It was after eight the next morning when Thompson woke him up, but he was smart and was well out of arm’s reach while yelling Butler’s name over and over. When he finally woke up he had thrown something across the room at him, which had unfortunately missed. A shower, a shave, a handful of pills knocked back with more whiskey, and a change of clothes later and he was ready to check on the house.
Contractors were finishing the parlor, today should be the last day. Lena was keeping the girls on their chores and keeping them on the mend from their interviews. And there was one sleeping prince.
Around one o’clock Butler heard over the radio tucked in his ear that Marik was awake, and waiting in Nikola’s, no, now it was just the office. This time when Butler stepped inside he did a double-take that Nikola wasn’t the one sitting there poring over documents with a laptop open on the corner, and papers spread across the lacquered top. It was Marik’s black cigarette being tapped into an empty coffee cup, that reminded Butler who was sitting in the chair that had almost been his. Then he looked up and grinned at Butler as he raised his hands, stretching them behind his head.
“Morning, Butler.” Marik’s dark brown eyes were daring him to correct him about the time, but Butler wasn’t taking the bait.
“I thought you might tell us when you were ready to start the day so we could talk to you about the house and catch you up to date.” Butler let the door click shut behind him before striding forward to the chairs tucked neatly in front of the massive desk.
“Are you referring to updating me on the parlor repairs? They seem to be almost complete by my check yesterday. Or potentially the girls? I’m quite sure Lena is the one keeping that section in hand, as always. Could you be referring to my father’s death? Between the lawyers, the autopsy report, and a little fill-in-the-blanks session with Sobeska and Zofie last night – I’m quite aware that he was murdered, likely through supernatural means. And, speaking of that, you might be referring to the girl who is currently missing in action? Fae? Well, it seems no one knows anything about that. So, perhaps you could catch me up to date on that little detail.” Marik smiled calmly, his voice had stayed flat and professionally cold, just like his father’s always had. Despite his party-boy persona, his extravagant spending patterns, and his less-than-tasteful free time preferences, he was still Nikola’s son.
Butler’s fist clenched as he gripped the back of the heavy chair and pulled it back from the desk. He twisted it at an angle before sitting down heavily. His jaw creaked with the strain of his clenched teeth and he forced himself to relax.
“You seem quite well informed for someone who spent the last few weeks moving so quickly through Eastern Europe and South Asia that the lawyers almost gave up reaching you.” Butler forced himself to smile, not wanting to lose the game before it even started, but it felt more like a grimace through the tension of his face.
“I got the first message when they sent it, and every one after that. I just wasn’t ready to return quite yet.” Marik allowed smoke to trickle out of his mouth as he spoke and punctuated the statement by blowing a stream into the air. Nikola had never smoked outside of the parlor.
“You’re here now, that’s what matters. As far as the missing whore, we have a lead in the house right now – a guest from the night of the Winter Dinner who had quite an interest in her. Even went so far as to attempt to purchase her from Nikola that night.” Butler felt a sense of smug satisfaction settle the acid that was roiling in his stomach.
“And who is that?” Marik laid the cigarette on the small plate which held his coffee cup before flipping through a few papers on the desk to pull out a single manila folder, which he flipped open.
“Andrew Clark. I spent the day yesterday interviewing him about why exactly he left in the early morning hours after the Winter Dinner, without even a goodbye.” Butler leaned forward and watched as Marik flipped to a page in the folder that was filled with text and had a small picture of the man in question stapled in the corner.
When Marik lifted his eyes to Butler they were darker, and glittering with a predatory excitement that caught Butler off-guard. Nikola had looked at everything with a sense of boredom, his interest only piqued when he found a new girl he wanted to acquire for his collection, even then there had never been this level of fierce intensity in his eyes.
“Well, this is news. I think we should go meet Andrew together, don’t you?” Marik pushed himself up, his hands flat on the desk as he waited for Butler to stand as well.
“Of course, he’s downstairs in a storage room.” Butler stood up and Marik grabbed his cigarette and walked around the desk with a bounce in his step.
The quick walk to the storage room was silent except for the consistent puff and exhale of Marik’s incessant chain smoking. When Butler unlocked the door and pushed it open they were greeted by a rough gasp and immediate coughing. The room was pitch black but Butler stepped confidently inside and pulled the string that turned on the bulb in the center of the room.
The floor was plain and shelves lined three of the walls. Various outdoor tools like rakes and shovels were hanging from racks on the last wall, and zip tied to one of the metal shelving units was their guest – a larger man in ruined suit pants and a stained gray button down. His dark, curly hair was matted to his head with what Butler guessed was blood, but he couldn’t remember giving the man a head injury.
When the man’s eyes adjusted he finally looked up at them both, and he didn’t look good. The split lip had been the result of the man threatening Butler with police action. The darkening black eye had been from trying to fight the men Butler had sent to retrieve him. Maybe that was where the head injury had come from? Not that it mattered.
“He-help me, please. You have to get me out of here. I can pay you, I can pay you a lot of money. Please, this guy is insane.” Andrew was talking fast, looking past Butler to Marik who stepped around and crouched down in front of the whimpering man.
“You’re Andrew, yes? Andrew Clark from Connecticut?” Marik grinned as he blew cigarette smoke into the air again before letting the cigarette hang between his knees while Andrew nodded slowly. “The same Andrew who used to be a politician, but now focuses more on land and real estate dealings?”
Another slow nod from him.
“Wonderful. Then I’d love to continue the business relationship you had with my father.” Marik waved his hand back and forth, the smoke trailing from the lit end as he watched Andrew’s eyes widen with realization. “That is, after we clear up this little mess.”
“I’ve already told Butler I had nothing to do with her disappearance. I would have gladly taken her with me, but your father was completely unreasonable -” Andrew stopped as Marik scooted forward, the cigarette suddenly much too close to his skin for comfort.
“My father was a collector, like a curator at a museum. He treated these girls like artwork, never let anyone play too rough with them, watched them with careful consideration, appreciated them like no one else.” Marik talked smoothly, his words gliding inside Andrew’s ears like water across the edge of a blade. “And much like a museum, when you’re invited to one, you don’t point at pretty pictures on the wall and ask to take them home with you. That’s rude.”
“You - you’re right, it was rude.” The cigarette was hovering less than an inch above Andrew’s arm.
Butler found himself watching in fascination as Marik talked. His fingertips tingled with the urge to have Marik press the black cigarette down, but he could only hold his breath as Marik continued.
“Yes. That was rude. After all, what was your plan had you taken her? Play house with her? Do you think she’d have melted into your arms as some kind of savior when you wanted the same things from her that my father did?” Marik brushed the cigarette against the fabric of the shirt and it melted away from the h
eat leaving a crisp little hole in the pale gray.
“I… I don’t know what I thought. I just wanted to help her. That’s it.” Andrew was sweating. It was rolling across his forehead and down his cheeks, and gathering against the collar of his shirt.
Marik laughed, it sounded mechanical and automatic, like a recording, and it made Andrew jump. “See what helping people gets you?” Marik took a long drag on the cigarette, before blowing the smoke directly into Andrew’s face, who immediately scrunched up his nose and coughed. Marik’s post laugh grin disappeared in an instant and he leaned forward suddenly, his hand gripping Andrew’s face tightly. He increased the pressure, forcing his mouth to pucker and his split lip to start bleeding again. “Listen to me very carefully. To win in life, you have to be the wolf among the sheep. You have to slit their throats before they even notice the claws underneath the fleece. You’re a sheep, Andrew, and I’m a wolf. And sheep that want to live help the wolves get the other sheep. You want to live don’t you?”
Andrew nodded, but was unable to talk with the pressure on his face.
“Good. Then tell me everything you remember about Fae and the night of the Winter Dinner.”
Chapter Nineteen
Seattle, Washington
Kiernan was insane.
He had spent the whole day running around the apartment planning like he was arranging a party for a hundred people instead of a simple date. He had asked her at least a hundred questions about her favorite foods and what she liked, and after each set of questions he would return to his computer or start making phone calls. It had been tempting to tease him, mock him for how serious he was being, but instead she’d just nested in his bed with a book and left him to it.
Now they were in a dimly lit Italian restaurant near the water, tucked into a private corner at a small table, and everything coming out of the kitchen smelled amazing. It felt both completely natural and surreal to be across from him. If she didn’t think about it - about who they were and what the future might hold - she could almost pretend she was just a mortal girl, and he was just a mortal guy, and they were just on a normal date.
Almost.
Fae’s eyes traced his jaw. It was clenched again, and his brow was furrowed under the edge of his dark hair. His moods changed faster than she could keep track. One minute Kiernan was grinning at her, and the next he was brooding and silent. Like this.
She didn’t understand why he couldn’t just live in the moment, enjoy the bit of happiness they were having right now, and stop stressing about the someday, about the myriad ways that things could go horribly wrong. It’s not like she didn’t have anxiety, or fears, but she wasn’t going to let them ruin the good things.
You have to find your happiness where you can, she’d said that to so many slaves over the centuries, and it was the truth. Acknowledging the anxiety seemed to let all the bad thoughts in for a moment. Her mind was suddenly whirling with possibilities, that someone would take her from this bit of happiness and lock her away again. That some beautiful mortal girl would make Kiernan realize how stupid and dangerous it was to get involved with a Faeoihn. That –
“There are times I still can’t believe you’re here.” Kiernan was smiling at her again, another shift in the winds and he wasn’t dark anymore. This was the light side of him, and she tried to stifle the grin that wanted to appear at the sight of his smile. “I keep thinking that if Gormahn wanted to punish me, there’d be no better way than to make me think I could be happy, that I could begin to redeem myself for everything I’ve done – and then he could just take it all away. Wake me up from this dream. I think that would finally break me.”
“You’re not dreaming, Kiernan.” Fae felt the burn of a blush in her cheeks, and she reached forward to take a sip of her water.
“Isn’t that what you’d say if I were dreaming about you?” He arched an eyebrow and she laughed, acquiescing.
“Well, yes, I guess that’s true.” Fae leaned back, looking up at the intricate designs carved into the ceiling. “But if it is a dream, Kiernan, you’ve got to stop waiting for it to end. Bad shit could happen at any moment. You could wake up, hell, I could wake up. Maybe the whole thing with Nikola’s death, and my implausible escape, and finding you is my dream, my fantasy of what I want to happen.”
“You forget that I knew what you looked like before this dream, you didn’t know I existed.”
“Okay, maybe I just imagined a hot guy, a warrior that could keep up with me, someone that I could respect, who was also from my own people and immortal - and dreamed him up.” Fae tilted her head at him, and his grin grew wicked.
“Did you just call me hot?”
“Calm down, your head is big enough.”
“Noticed that too, did you?” He laughed and she threw her napkin at his face.
“You’re ridiculous.” Fae rolled her eyes, and he reached across the table to take her hands. She was hypnotized by the rhythmic movement of his fingertips across her skin, which seemed to make the rest of the world fall away.
“So, you’re happy?”
“Yeah. Very happy.” Fae ran her fingernails lightly over his palm and grinned.
Kiernan’s dark eyes flicked up to hers and she saw a boyish excitement flash through them. “Then who cares if it’s a dream?” He shrugged and leaned forward across the table to kiss her. When their lips met Fae felt the heat spark between them again, a burning rush under her skin that reminded her of what it had been like to climb onto his lap the night before. Brave and fearless. Moving her hand to his cheek, and then into his hair, the kiss changed from a chaste press of lips to a dance of tongues, his teeth grazing her lips. When her fingertips brushed the back of his neck she could feel the rumble of his groan against her mouth as his hands cupped her face and held her firmly.
There really had been no reason to leave the bed this morning.
No. Reason. At. All.
"Umm, I'll come back." The waitress standing next to their table was wide-eyed and blushing bright red when they broke apart. Fae flashed her a smile, but Kiernan leaned back to his side and was staring at the table as she heard him take a slow breath. In and out. He raised his gaze to Fae and the look in his eyes held promises for her that sent a shiver down her back that settled between her legs with liquid heat. When he turned those dark eyes on the waitress her blush went scarlet, and Fae understood the way the woman’s mouth dropped open. She wouldn’t be surprised if her own was hanging open too.
"No, it’s okay, we’d like some wine." Kiernan's voice was a notch lower than normal, and he grinned to himself when he looked down at the wine list. He ordered a bottle and the waitress retreated from the table in a daze.
"Are you sure you want to have dinner?" Fae arched an eyebrow and grinned. Kiernan's eyes traced the neckline of her sweater, and he tightened his jaw for a second before responding.
"Temptation, thy name is Fae." His smile broadened when he brought his eyes back to hers. “Let me do all this, please, it makes me feel better about everything.”
“Okay, Kiernan, a date it is.” Fae replied quietly, giving him a secretive smile as the waitress returned with their wine and the glasses. She sat up, prim and proper, no more sultry glances or suggestive dialogue which had Kiernan pouting for a few minutes.
Be careful what you wish for, warrior boy.
When they ordered food from the menu, Kiernan kept adding new things he wanted her to try if she even glanced at them. The girl left with a dizzying list of items that Fae knew would be impossible for them to eat. He just shrugged and said if she only tried a bite out of each, it would be worth it. “I have a confession, by the way.” He smiled at her, so the nervous flutter in her stomach at those words abated a bit.
“Alright…”
“I’ve seen you naked before. Quite a few times, actually.” Kiernan was blushing, really blushing, and Fae burst out laughing. She hadn’t thought about all he’d seen in the glass, but as rare as it was for someone to even give her cl
othing it didn’t surprise her.
“Kiernan, if that’s the worst thing you saw in the glass, you really didn’t watch very often.” She had meant for it to be light-hearted, but his face turned down, a shadow passing over his features. “Wait, I didn’t mean to accuse -”
“I always shut the box.” He spoke quietly, cutting her off, but she wasn’t sure she had heard him right.
“What?”
He sighed and kept his eyes away from her, dancing between the glasses on the table, the bottle of wine, the silverware. “I always shut the box, whenever one of them would – I always shut the box. I watched the punishments usually, just because I was mesmerized by how strong you were, I admit that, but I didn’t watch them -”
“Fuck me?” Fae finished and he flinched.
“Yeah,” he mumbled.
She sighed, grateful that the wine was at the table because she needed a drink to have this conversation. “I wouldn’t have cared if you did, Kiernan. Honestly. It’s kind of a relief that you know everything, that you understand. I came to terms with my curse a very long time ago.”
“But you shouldn’t have to!” The anger in his voice made her frown a little, and he pulled himself back.
“Well, tell me the truth, did you think I was hot?” She smiled, and the rage fled in the wake of his surprise.
He laughed, and shrugged, the blush on his cheeks darkening a bit. “Um, yes. Hot would be a good word, so would beautiful, gorgeous, incredible, brave – I mean, you’re extraordinary, Fae.” Kiernan smiled up at her and it was her turn to blush. He really knew how to make her feel like the only woman in the room, like someone valuable and precious.
“I think I’m supposed to say thank you,” she muttered. He shrugged, and she leaned back from the table. “If we’re having confession, I have one too.”
“Do you?” He leaned forward on the table with a much lighter expression on his face.
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