by Michele Hauf
Before the bay window on a bed of vines sat a tiny woman with dark violet skin and curious white tattoos. They looked like henna designs, elaborate Indian arabesques, yet all were in white so they virtually glowed against her dusky skin. A crown of what looked like cranberries circled her head, twined within a thorny branch.
Lips as bright as the berries opened and a spill of white smoke curled out and around her neck, then circled her body, calling attention to the tiny wings at her back, the tips barely revealed behind her head.
“Well met. I receive your blessings with an open heart,” Vail said, and bowed to the faery. “I have lived in Faery all my life, until three mortal months ago when I was banished to this realm. I revere the sidhe, and wish them no harm.”
“And the vampiress?” the faery asked in a curiously deep voice that vibrated at the back of Lyric’s throat.
“She is respectful of the sidhe and their ways.”
The white tattoos flashed on the woman’s skin as she looked over Lyric. Deep violet eyes that were pure color, no dark pupil at all, dug through Lyric’s skin and into her blood. Suddenly she felt Zett’s mark behind her ear begin to burn.
“You’ve been marked by the Lord of Midsummer Dark,” the healer announced. “Step forward, chosen one.”
“No, I’m not—” Chosen? Never.
Vail put a finger to his lips and nodded that she take a step forward to stand beside him.
The healer faery tilted her head, and blew out a wisp of white smoke that crept toward Lyric and curled up behind her ear. The smoke touched her as if a finger, gliding along the mark.
“A vampiress attracted the Unseelie lord to make her his own?”
Lyric looked to Vail for direction. She felt it best he speak because she wasn’t at all dialed in to the protocol for communicating with this woman.
“It was a mistake on Zett’s part,” Vail explained. “Now he seeks to destroy that mistake. We respectfully request you remove the mark from her skin so she will no longer be the Lord of Midsummer Dark’s prey.”
The healer sniffed. The violet smoke that had filled the hall now wound its way about Lyric’s body, twining like rope strands about the white smoke. It tightened, pressing her knees together and clamping about her hips. Her eyelids blinked, and she had to concentrate to focus.
“She is very susceptible,” the faery explained. “Perhaps it best she succumb to the Unseelie lord’s will.”
“No,” Vail said, a bit too forcefully.
The healer blanched and her wings snapped out crisply and fluttered. He’d upset her. Lyric reached for Vail’s hand, but he eluded her touch.
“She did nothing wrong,” he explained more calmly. “Zett has no right to kill indiscriminately. Why should it not be he who suffers for his mistake?”
“To suffer such a mistake would see him taking her as his bride. I sense, vampire, that you would have something to say against that.”
“I—” Now Vail’s hand did clasp in hers. “Yes. She is mine.”
The faery closed her eyes, revealing the delicate white designs tracing her lids. The aroma of flowers and cranberries grew so strong Lyric tasted it as it drizzled down her throat. She wobbled.
Vail caught her across the back and held her against him. The violet and white smoke rope released its tight clutch.
The healer flashed open her eyes and aimed her gaze upon Vail. “No, I cannot help you. Certainly I feel there is a connection between the two of you. I honor that, Unwanted One.”
Vail’s intake of breath at that cruel moniker reminded Lyric just what he was sacrificing by kowtowing to the sidhe to help her.
The healer continued, “But I cannot risk bringing Zett’s wrath upon me. Understand.”
“Of course.” Vail nodded. “Thank you for seeing us. Blessed be.”
She bowed her head and closed her eyes, the berries crowning her head spilling forward like ruby pearls.
Stepping out of the room with Vail, Lyric didn’t feel disappointment so much as pride in Vail for having stood up for her, and at least attempting to help. She hadn’t expected it would be easy.
When they closed the narrow door behind them, outside air whisked through Lyric’s lungs and cleared away the opium fog.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and kissed her at the corner of her eye. “I tried.”
“I know you did. Thank you for trying.”
“We’ll find another way.”
“Whew! What was all that smoke?”
“Sedative, for unwary strangers.”
“I get that. And I think I was unwary. Did it affect you?”
“A little. But the fresh air is helping. Let’s head back, shall we?”
He threaded his fingers through hers and led her onward. Lyric sensed he didn’t want to discuss what he must feel was a failure. It wasn’t a failure to her. It only further cemented their connection.
They strolled down a street fronted by many ichor dens, and Lyric breathed in deeply, drawing in as much of the fresh night air as possible.
“Fancy a bite?”
She startled at the drowsy voice to their left.
“Go away,” Vail said to the faery whose jasper wings hung straight and where they dusted the sidewalk were tattered and dirty.
The pale lavender pixy pouted, and teased a finger along her neck. Curious by what she saw, Lyric tilted the frail creature’s head aside.
The faery bristled in delight. “I don’t charge much. Right there.” She tapped the thick, pale vein.
“Do you see that?” she asked Vail. “That tattoo or mark.”
Now interested, Vail made to touch the faery’s neck, but she tugged away and insisted on cash. He dug in his pocket and handed her a 500-euro banknote. “Just touching,” he said. “I don’t want to bite.”
“Whatever gets you off, pretty boy.”
He stroked his thumb along the fine red mark just below her drooping earlobe. It wasn’t bioluminescent like Lyric’s mark. To Lyric, he asked, “Does it mean something to you?”
Her heart suddenly pounding, Lyric swallowed a scream. Tears heated her eyes. She began to think of the implications, but her mind tugged her back and wouldn’t allow her to go down that dark path.
“It’s the Santiago family crest,” she said.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
VAIL HASTENED LYRIC from the ichor den. The rain had picked up and they scurried toward Leo’s building. Both were silent regarding what they’d seen on the faery’s neck. The Santiago crest? That stirred his suspicion.
He wasn’t sure how Lyric would take it, but she must have her suspicions now. She’d grown up in the family. Surely nothing they did, or had done, could shock her.
On the other hand, she was on the run from that family. Obviously, she didn’t agree with everything they did.
If he could get her to give him the gown he could hand it over to Rhys, and then…
And then? Well, he wasn’t prepared to hand over Lyric. She was his.
Yes, his. Zett would never lay a single dust-laden finger on Lyric’s flesh. As for Charish Santiago, he knew Lyric wanted to do what was best for her mother. And Lyric, well, she should be able to decide what she wanted to do in her life, not anyone else.
Not even him.
Which was why he wasn’t about to tell her what he was thinking as they took the elevator up to her brother’s place. She was smart. She’d figure out what her mother was up to.
As for her being his, well, he wanted her to give him a chance. But that was a decision only Lyric could make. Did she want him only for the fantasy, or was there something more, deeper?
After Lyric punched in a seven-digit code, the elevator doors slid open. This time, Vail stood behind her, but no arrows sprang out at him.
“Why didn’t you punch in the code the first time we came here?” he asked as they stepped inside.
“It wouldn’t have been as fun. And you’d never have known how serious my brother is about protecting what is his.”<
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“I might have if you’d simply told me.”
“Doubt it.” She strolled through the living room, headed for the guest bedroom. “I want to get this stuff off my eyes. I’ll be right back.”
Sensing his lover’s need for distance, Vail slouched onto an oversize leather chair, swinging a leg over an arm, and closed his eyes. It was almost dawn. He’d gotten enough sleep earlier, but he felt drained.
You know it’s hunger. You wanted to sink your fangs into the faery’s neck and feast on ichor. Now you’ll have to go back, sooner rather than later.
He wasn’t feeling the jittery cravings yet, but soon…
Lyric sashayed into the room, hips swaying and legs moving as if orchestrated for subtle allure. Maybe she was looking for closeness rather than distance?
“Hey, kitty. How’d you get such a sexy walk?”
“Must be my gymnastics training.”
“Whatever it’s from, it’s incredibly sexy. I could watch you walk all day. Is it something to do with the silks you’ve mentioned? What are silks?”
“Aerial silks,” she said, “are long strips of fabric that a person swings from and performs acrobatic moves on. It’s a great workout. I do it whenever I need to think or lose myself from the world.”
“Sounds like something I need to take up. I used to swing like a monkey from the vines in Faery when I was small.”
“You Tarzan, me Jane?”
“Huh?”
“Sorry, a movie reference. You probably haven’t seen too many of those.”
“Use the force, Luke!”
“Just the important one, then.”
Instead of sitting in the chair next to his, she sat on his lap and laid her head on his shoulder. Vail got an instant hard-on, but he didn’t want the moment to go full speed into sex like it usually did, because he sensed she was out of sorts. Probably running through her brain right now what they’d seen in FaeryTown.
Breathing in her cherry jasmine scent, he noticed the weight of her breast against his chest, the slide of her leg across his. She was so real. Not flighty or vindictive like the faeries with whom he’d had relationships.
And she was like him. If he chose to accept he was vampire and not some fucked-up longtooth with a faery complex.
“So what does it mean?” Her pale eyes sought his.
The truth would earn her respect but, as well, her disdain. Her mother had lied to her. He would not do the same, no matter the consequences.
Vail kissed her forehead, lingering until he could no longer prolong the silence. “The only reason that faery, and probably others in the ichor den, would wear the Santiago crest is because they are owned by the Santiagos. I suspect your mother is trafficking in faeries with Zett, Lyric. It’s the only conclusion. Makes more sense than Zett allowing a vampire into Faery to steal artifacts.”
She nodded, her gaze avoiding his. No denial?
“Half an hour ago,” she said, “I would have been angry and come to my mother’s defense. She’d never do anything like that. But standing in the bathroom alone, thinking about it a moment, made me realize I can’t deny my family has always been involved in underhanded and vicious dealings. And she’s been so pressured lately.”
“By the fiancé?”
“Yes, Connor. But I don’t understand how trafficking in faeries can further his plans to take over the Santiago clan.”
“He may not be involved. On the other hand, it may be profitable.”
“So you think my mother promised Zett the gown in return for faeries to put to work in the ichor den?”
He nodded and stroked her hair. “Maybe she did it to get away from the fiancé? Get some quick cash and start anew?”
“No, she loves him. Unfortunately.” She snuggled in closer, hooking an arm across his chest. “If your guess is true about the trafficking, that’s a crime punishable by the Council. And the only people who know about it are you and me.”
Honest eyes studied his. Wondering, touching and knowing. He would give her honesty in return.
“I’m going to finish my job,” he said. “Zett has no right to the Seelie gown, nor do you. But I don’t work for the Council. And I can’t stop you from keeping secrets from me.”
“I’ve no more secrets. Promise. And I understand you have to do what you have to do. You won’t report my mother?”
“No need to.”
“Then I will. Leo will stand beside me. It’s not right. Sure, we’re a family of thieves. And once in a while another bad guy gets hurt when dealing with the Santiagos. I love my mother. But participating in an illegal operation that harms innocent faeries? It makes me sick to think of it.”
“What do you care for the sidhe?”
“I’ve always been frightened of them. Of the addiction they bring with one bite. Because I fear something doesn’t mean I wish it harm. They are living beings, like you and me. They’ve done nothing wrong.”
Vail swallowed and looked away from the sincerity in her eyes. He’d never taken a faery as a slave to drink from and drain dry, but certainly he used them to maintain.
Maintain. You still hiding behind that excuse? She’s sees the truth of you, man. Own it.
“How can we stop it?” she asked. “There’s got to be a way.”
“As long as Zett hasn’t received the gown, he’s not going to hand over any faeries.”
“Yes, but for those who already live in FaeryTown to fulfill the sick pleasures of addicted vampires. How to help them?”
“I’m not sure. Aren’t you concerned about yourself? Zett is after you.”
“Can we use this as leverage? We don’t report him and he forgets I have a mark?”
“It’s a tricky situation. I… Hell.”
“What?”
“I just had the thought I should talk to Cressida.”
“Your faery stepmother? Would she be on your side?”
“Not sure.” He turned the delicate May bells about his wrist. Another flower had fallen away. Two remained. “I can’t return to Faery. It would be deemed a malicious affront to Zett, who banished me. Besides, I’m sure there are wards to keep me back.”
“You haven’t tried to return?”
“Haven’t had a reason in the few months I’ve been in the mortal realm. I left behind more bad memories than good.”
“About that banishment. What did you do to the guy? You said it had to do with a fox shifter?”
“Kit. I…shouldn’t tell you this.” If anything would drive a wedge between them, it was the thing he had done in Faery.
“Be honest with me, Vail. You’ve told me about your father and wanting to kill him, which I don’t agree with. What could be more hideous to hide?”
“It’s not hideous. Kit, she…”
He grasped Lyric and squeezed her in a hug, wishing life were easier, that words were not required to gain trust, and actions could be his voice. They’d been his voice for Kit. And, much as he wished it could have been different, he didn’t regret those actions.
“Was it a fight over a girl?” she guessed. “Between you and Zett?”
“Not so much a fight as a mastery.”
“That’s sounds seedy. I don’t understand the ways of Faery. But if you don’t want to tell me, I understand.”
He sensed she would let it drop, but at the core of him, Vail wanted to release it, to bring her into his heart by granting her entrance to his most shameful secret.
Not shameful. Depended on the mood he was in when he thought about it.
“Kit grew up with me,” he began, twisting a hank of Lyric’s brown hair about his finger. “We’d both expected to be married off when we reached majority. Cressida never hid anything from me, and explained she’d taken me as a boon and the reasons for it, early on. Kit was excited about her husband-to-be. She’d met him. He was a wood sylph who gave her pretty ribbons and composed songs about her. Some men are born natural romantics, I guess.”
“Had you met your fiancé?”
>
“No. Cressida had bargained for me before puberty, and you know what happened following. After discovering I was a bloodborn vampire she did a swell job of making me feel smaller than a worm, worthless, and generally a pariah.”
Lyric’s hug deepened the warmth of their connection. Vail realized he felt safe with her, and that conclusion made him relax more. No one in this realm felt more like family to him than Lyric, and he would try to keep the bond now that he recognized it.
“There’s a ritual Faery observes,” he said. “I’ve learned it mirrors a medieval mortal rite. When a couple is to be married, the lord of their particular Faery sect, in this case, the Midsummer branch of the Unseelies, has first right to the bride.”
“I don’t understand?”
“That means the Lord of Midsummer Dark can have sex with the bride the night before her wedding, if he so chooses.”
“That’s awful!”
“It is. But it is an accepted practice in the sidhe culture. And Kit, well, it wasn’t so much she feared Zett—he isn’t known as a tyrant who harms females—only she did not want him to be the man she gave her virginity to. And she couldn’t risk going to her fiancé. He was an upright sidhe and abided by the rules, even if they weren’t rules, but rather a shameful ritual.”
“Her fiancé wanted Zett to have her?”
“It’s not that he wanted it to happen, only he would not speak against Zett.”
“What did she do? Oh, I don’t want to think about it. How sad that happened to her.”
“Actually.” He kissed her forehead, and brushed aside the hair to trace behind her ear where the faery mark glowed. Wincing, because Zett had touched so many, and in ways Vail could not fathom, he continued. “Kit wanted her first time to be with someone she could trust, so she asked me. And I agreed, because I loved her. We made love as friends, not as lovers, but it was what she wanted, and I could not deny her.”
“That’s strangely honorable of you.”
“Strange, certainly. I’m not sure how honorable. No matter that I gave Kit what she desired, the fact remains, I took away her husband’s right to claim his wife.”
