by Alex Rivers
I didn’t follow. Instead, I raised my hands, and the mirrored bracelets on my wrists flickered. I felt through the hundreds of reflections in the mansion, watching them shimmer past.
The kitchen was a burning inferno, no movement but the flames. In the library, Nerius fought an armored fae. His shadow fought by his side, which meant Branwen was near. I almost jumped through the reflection to help, but then another image drew my attention. In her bedroom, Elrine backed away from a golden Seelie woman, whose blade sliced through the air. Elrine was cornered and bleeding, backed against a wall, fear glinting in her eyes.
I hesitated for a second, Nerius flickering on my right wrist, Elrine on the left.
Then I let the cold touch of the reflection wash over me as I jumped into it.
Elrine’s eyes widened as I leaped though the mirror in her room, accidentally kicking a perfume bottle and knocking it off the dressing table. The glass shattered, filling the room with the scent of honeysuckle. The Seelie warrior paused, her golden hair draped over her armor, her lip curling at my little stiletto. Elrine was armed only with a crystal vase, and neither of us looked like a match for the giantess before us.
Growling, the Seelie swung her sword in a wide arc, and both Elrine and I ducked. Could I trap her the same way I’d trapped the other Seelie? She seemed faster, nimbler. And there was a risk that she might attack Elrine once I disappeared from sight.
I concentrated, searching desperately for my dread powers.
Time slowed down, and tendrils of fear curled through the room—bright and powerful from Elrine, small wisps from the Seelie fae. They undulated toward me, and I tried to pull them in.
Instead, they faded, like smoke in the wind. Time sped up again, and I leaped to avoid the long blade that nearly sank into my ribs.
Without my connection to the London Stone, my dread powers didn’t work so well.
My pulse racing, I felt for the reflection on my bracelet, preparing to jump through, to leap behind the Seelie. So many reflections: her shiny armor, made of dozens of interlocking metal parts to protect her body. Her long blade, glinting in the dim light.
Somehow, I merged with them all. And then I let my mind fly.
Instantly, a mass of writhing snakes covered her body, crawling on top of each other. Her blade blazed with flames, which spread to her metal glove. Her eyes widened, and she faltered. They weren’t real flames—just an illusion—but the sight was terrifying enough. Even without my full powers, I could feel her dread exploding in her. I inhaled, trying to draw her terror into my own chest.
It didn’t work.
But Elrine lunged forward in a blur of movement, and smashed the vase into the Seelie’s face. The woman screamed and fell back, blood streaking her skin. Sensing my opportunity, I swung with one claw, ripping at her face. I followed up with a thrust of the stiletto, sinking it into her throat. Her platinum eyes snapped wide open, and she fell, gurgling. I released the reflections writhing around her body, the snakes and fire disappearing instantly.
“Thanks.” Elrine stared at me. “But there’s more.”
“I know.” I glanced at the mirror hanging on her bedroom wall—much larger than my mirror bracelets. First I searched for Nerius. I found him alive, a dead Seelie at his feet, and exhaled with relief. Then I searched the rest of the house, the images flickering across the large mirror. Three Seelie warriors rampaged through the dining room, smashing everything with their gleaming broadswords. Two Seelie stood in the back yard, pouring an oily liquid into the fire, the flames roaring higher as they did so. In the training room, Roan clashed swords with a silvery Seelie male.
Elrine grabbed my arm, her nails digging into me. “We have to help Roan.”
“Quiet,” I barked, sifting through the images, room after room.
In one of the bedrooms, an unfamiliar Unseelie warrior fought for his life against a shimmering angel of a fae. In another bedroom, a Seelie warrior brutally ransacked a dresser. In room after room, I saw the Seelie invading and destroying like a swarm of gleaming locusts.
“So many,” I whispered as the images flickered. The Seelie were enormous, terrifying, and so beautiful a human could easily be lured in by their grace. They cut their enemies down like vengeful angels, their eyes glimmering at the blood and gore in their wake. They would overrun us. Destroy the mansion. They’d kill us all.
Elrine clutched my arm harder. “We have to get Roan and run.”
I shook my head. “We have to fight. Roan isn’t the only Unseelie in here.”
“There’s too many of them! You don’t know the Seelie, Cassandra. They’re relentless. Brutal.”
“I know enough. Even the Seelie can fear.”
I stared at the mirror, letting my mind merge with it. When I felt the connection, I searched for all the reflections in the house. There were hundreds of them, and, closing my eyes, I merged with them all. I let them become a part of my body and soul, feeling the tingle move over my skin, cool and liquid as it swirled around the inside of my skull. As I flitted through one reflection after another, my imagination began conjuring an Unseelie horde.
I made them terrifying—some winged with fire, some horned, some scaled. Banshees, spider fae, towering warriors with animal heads, beaming from every reflective surface. To this unholy host, I added flames, and smoke, and shadows.
I watched through Elrine’s mirror as the Seelie froze, raising their eyes. Some seemed to realize it was no more than a trick, but in the air, hazy with smoke and heat and flames, it was easy to mistake my dancing reflections for reality. And the illusions fooled many.
Two bolted, running outside. Another froze in fear, only to be carved down by Nerius, who crept behind him. In the training room, Roan took advantage of his opponent’s hesitation, cleanly decapitating him.
Unrelenting, I merged with the shiny armor worn by the Seelie warriors. Mentally flitting from one Seelie to another, I created flames, monsters, faces of the dead. When one illusion failed, I switched to another. A blue-eyed warrior with a blond mane dropped his battle axe, inspecting himself with trembling hands as his gleaming armor showed him an image of rotting, peeling skin. It took only a moment for Nerius to hack at his knees, and the warrior collapsed like a large felled tree.
I was so intent on the manipulation of the reflections that I hadn’t even noticed Elrine leaving the room. Now I saw her running into one of the rooms, swinging a sword she must have liberated from a corpse. She cut low, striking the exposed part of a warrior’s leg armor. Blood arced over the room as he fell.
I returned my attention to my attack, to the myriad reflections dancing around the mansion. I was suddenly aware that my strength had been draining, my magic dwindling from the exertion. A dull ache rose in my chest, an empty void. As I stared, the reflections began to blink away from my perception, one after the other, until the only reflections I could touch were the ones in front of me—and then, not even them.
I tottered, my vision darkening, and grasped for something to keep me upright. But all the strength had fled my body, and I fell forward, my hands sluggishly moving to break my fall.
The last thing I felt before losing consciousness was a powerful embrace, and Roan’s oaky scent enveloped me.
Chapter 3
I woke to the sound of a door creaking open, and my eyes landed on a guttering candle that stood beside the bed.
A haze of smoke seemed to be billowing through my own skull. I couldn’t smell the smoke in here, though. In fact, by the scent of moss and oak in the room, I knew exactly where I was. Someone had brought me to Roan’s room. Blearily, I looked toward the window. Night had fallen. I cringed at the sight of the closed window, desperate to get it open again.
I rolled over, blinking in the dim light, and found Roan standing before me. He moved to sit at the end of my bed—at the end of his bed, rather. As he did, his weight depressed the edge, and I began to slide toward him.
I stared at his face, the fog of sleep still clinging
to my mind. How did he always manage to look so golden? He seemed to gild the air around him. Warm light flickered over his chiseled body, the beautiful planes of his face. I had the strongest urge to reach for him, to curl myself into his lap and press my head against his chest. Was I feeling that because we were soulmates—had fate chosen for me? I had no idea.
“You passed out. You’ve been sleeping for six hours.” The richness of his voice seemed to caress my body, dripping over my skin like honey. That’s when I realized just how much of my skin lay exposed under the sheets. Someone had dressed me in the tiniest nightgown ever designed for an adult woman. Did it even count as a nightgown if it didn’t quite cover your ass?
“Did you dress me in this?” I pulled the sheets a little higher.
His gaze raked lower, as if he were trying to see beneath the sheets. “Branwen got you into bed. She even brought in terrified humans from the street for you to feed from in your sleep.”
“Branwen,” I said sleepily, and then the events that had transpired before I’d collapsed came rushing back. “Is everyone all right? Elrine… and Nerius, and—”
“They’re fine.” Roan laid a calming hand on my blanket-covered leg. “We got here in time. And your actions were invaluable.”
I let out a deep, relieved breath. “How did everything turn out after the attack?”
“The Seelie have fled, and we only sustained minor injuries.” Under his keen, amber-flecked gaze, I felt like he was peering into my very soul.
I glanced down at my hands. “What else do we know about the Seelie? Are we at war?”
We. As if I were one of them.
“As we had already guessed, they launched a surprise attack to cripple us. In London, as you know, they attacked this mansion, the Court of Sorrow’s outpost, and Grendel’s club. In addition, a large assault force stormed the armory of the House of Balor, seizing its contents.”
I swallowed, imagining a swarm of Unseelie warriors moving through London, butchering humans and fae in a ruthless and precise attack.
“In the fae realm, a large Seelie force stormed the border between Trinovantum and Cleopolis. The Unseelie have retreated to Cingeto's Fortress—a fort that stands over the Cingeto River. It’s the last barrier between the Seelie and Unseelie realms. If the Seelie manage to take the fort, they will overrun Trinovantum. Any survivors will be enslaved.”
A shiver ran up my spine. “Meanwhile, the Unseelie are in total disarray. I don’t suppose we helped that situation when we slaughtered the king.”
Roan gritted his teeth. “We did what we had to. Your father was a tyrant.”
I clutched the blanket to my chest. “Don’t call him that.”
He stared at me in surprise, and then his eyes softened. “Of course, you’re right.”
A long moment of silence fell between us.
“So…” He shifted his weight, his muscles tensed. “You’re dressed in what, exactly?”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter.” And yet, my mind tormented me with an image of Roan pulling away the sheets and ripping off my nightgown.
Roan’s eyes glowed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You need time to think about what I told you.”
“About being soulmates?”
“Exactly.”
I frowned. “Wait. What did you mean, you don’t think it’s a good idea? Don’t think what’s a good idea?”
“What you’re thinking about.”
Irritation surged. “I didn’t say anything out loud. Stop sensing my emotions. It’s… embarrassing.” I tugged the sheet up to cover myself. “Speaking of the soulmate thing, I’m still a little hazy on the details. How does this change anything?”
“You will feel bound to protect me, and I you. Over time, we will hear more and more of each other’s thoughts, unless you learn to develop mental barriers.”
My lip curled. That sounded intrusive as hell. “You’ll be able to not only feel my emotions, but hear my thoughts?”
“Like I said. You could block it.” He cocked his head. “Of course, the barriers might fall sometimes.”
“And any secrets I might have… you would know them.”
He shrugged. “That’s how it is with mates.”
My mind went into high gear, thinking of all the embarrassing thoughts I didn’t want anyone to know about. Any petty jealousy that went through my mind, every moment of selfishness—then I realized it was much worse. I had been an FBI agent, exposed to a mass of top-secret documents. Of course, Roan wasn’t a foreign spy, but he had no security clearance for this knowledge. He could divulge it accidentally. Some things I knew could possibly even cause direct harm.
Flustered, I decided to change the subject. “My dread powers. They’re… not working. I tried to use them in the fight, but they’re gone, along with the London Stone.”
“Are you sure it’s destroyed? You feel no connection to it?”
I shook my head. “I felt a faint tug—a pull similar to what I felt for the Stone. It was far away, but I feel like there’s still something there.”
“When you’re feeling better, you must do everything you can to track this. We need your powers.” Roan rubbed his forehead. “It was a mistake to allow the Seelie to flourish this long.”
I shook my head. “What do you mean?”
“We should have struck years ago, when the Seelie were not expecting it. We should have crushed them before they had the chance to attack. As they once did to us, when they took Cleopolis from us. We should have learned from them: Never let a potential enemy grow stronger. Kill him before he kills you.”
“Kill anyone who might pose a risk. Sounds reasonable.” Why was I not surprised by his militaristic attitude?
“It would have prevented this situation.”
I narrowed my eyes. What would he do if he ever sensed the threat humans posed to the fae? I had a feeling that Roan had no idea what that the weaponry I’d seen in the CIA headquarters existed—bombs full of iron shrapnel, toxic iron mist. “What about humans? Would a preemptive strike against them—us—would that make sense?”
He frowned. “Of course not. Humans are too weak to be a real threat.”
I tensed. Here was a perfect example of secrets Roan should never possess, things he could never read in my mind.
Roan’s gaze dipped again, and I realized the sheet had fallen, revealing my nearly bare body, and a glimpse of my underwear. I was pretty sure I heard a groan emerge from his throat, and I knew he’d completely lost focus. I pulled up the sheets again.
He met my gaze, his eyes glimmering with gold. “I should have told you about the bond earlier. Fae don’t normally have to tell each other. We just know.” His voice was low, almost a purr that caressed the back of my neck. “I kept thinking you’d realize… but of course, you weren’t raised in our ways.”
I blinked at the sudden change in conversation, but it was clear this was something Roan had decided we need to discuss. “When did you first realize?”
I hadn’t even noticed him moving, but suddenly, somehow, he was sitting closer to me. “Truthfully, as soon as we met, some part of my mind understood. But I didn’t want to admit it. I convinced myself it was your pixie wiles luring me in. That it was your heightened emotions and my own nature working together. But once we fought at the Lake of Blood, once I’d felt compelled to bite your neck, I couldn’t lie to myself as effectively anymore.”
“Why did you feel the need to lie to yourself to begin with? What was so repellent about me?”
He looked surprised. “Nothing, of course. Just that… you were from the house of my ancient enemies, and you seemed to feel nothing for me. You broke your oath to me when you’d promised to join me in Trinovantum, and when you came to find me in my Hawkwood home, I asked you why you’d come. You gave a number of reasons, but none were what I wanted to hear.”
A dark heat pooled in my blood, warming my cheeks and making my chest flush. “Which was what, exactly?”
&n
bsp; “That you came because of me,” he murmured.
I said nothing, my heart fluttering in my chest.
“From the moment I met you,” he continued, “I felt drawn to you, as if an invisible thread connected us, pulling me closer to you. But you didn’t feel the same. It seemed like a curse.”
I stared at him, trying to catch my breath. “You thought I was your curse.”
“A daughter of the Court of Terror, one who doesn’t know the fae ways, who couldn’t sense the bond, who felt no connection to me. Most women are drawn to me, but you—my soulmate—you seemed to feel only lust, not loyalty. A curse from the gods.”
“And why would you be cursed, Roan?”
Shadows slid through his eyes, but he didn’t answer. Even if we were soulmates, he wasn’t ready to divulge all his secrets.
“You felt cursed,” I pressed. “And you thought I was rejecting you because of this curse. That’s why you kicked me out of your cabin that day. Is that right?”
“I knew you desired me. But that’s all I knew.”
The sheet had fallen down again, and I heard his breath stop short. But I no longer scrambled to cover myself.
Roan let his gaze slowly rake over my body, taking in every inch of bare skin. His body stiffened, and he gripped the sheets, crumpling them in his fingers. His eyes shifted to a deep gold.
Heat skimmed over my skin. Once again I felt an overwhelming desire to curl into his lap, to wrap my legs around him. I wanted to slide my fingers under his shirt, to feel his muscled chest, to kiss and lick his throat until he groaned. I wanted to pull off the rest of my flimsy nightgown.
But this conversation was too important to interrupt. “Maybe I feel it differently than you do. I want you, and I feel safe with you. But if I’m bound to you, I’m bound to the world of the fae. It makes me feel… trapped.” My mind flashed with an intense memory of the dank prison cell—the scent of rat bodies, of human filth—and I shuddered. The heat in my body dissipated instantly.
