by Michele Hauf
“It’s a giddy feeling.”
She nodded. “Let’s not stop the giddy.”
“You want to do it again?”
“And again.”
He swiped a hand over a couch cushion and showed her the dust. “In the shower. It’s probably the only clean place in the apartment. And then we’re leaving this place behind so we don’t risk touching any more dust. Deal?”
“I’ll race you to the shower.”
* * *
ONE OF THE LORD OF Midsummer Dark’s men had just left the Santiago mansion. Charish sniffed the air, and brushed at her bare arms. She shivered. Felt like faery dust had gotten all over her and her home, but in reality, she could find no trace of a glimmer anywhere. She hated dealing with the sidhe. They were far more sneaky and malicious than any who had ever served her.
She hustled down the hallway toward the garage. What the faery had told her was remarkable. They’d located Lyric! Yet Zett had commanded his men not to intervene, but rather to merely report back to her. That was thoughtful of the man. So maybe faeries weren’t all bad.
Her lover swung around the corner and caught her in his always-too-rough embrace. He smelled brutish and spicy. “Charish, where are you off to? You never leave the house in the daylight.”
“It’s raining, so the sun’s hiding behind clouds. Connor…” She clutched his shirt.
Just as she was ready to spill the details the faery messenger had relayed to her, something made her pause. Normally, she told Connor everything. Trusted him implicitly with the Santiago finances, despite the mysterious losses they’d incurred lately.
She loved him for his simple desire to please her, for his devotion and his sexy, sometimes overwhelming, strength. But he had never shown Lyric much interest. That bothered her.
“Out with it, my dear.”
“It’s…shoes,” she decided. “You know how I adore shoes. A pretty new pair will take my mind off things.”
“She will be found,” he reassured, in a surprising show of compassion. “I’ve sent a couple tracking demons out, as you requested, though your daughter’s scent confuses them when it’s masked with perfume. But you mustn’t worry. We’ll have that gown back in no time, and hopefully will be able to resurrect the deal with the Unseelie lord.”
“Thank you, Connie. I love you.” She kissed him, and he kept their contact brief. She had decided it was because he was always moving, too busy to sit still, or remain in a liplock for longer than a few seconds, and not because he didn’t care to kiss her. Perhaps? No, Connie loved her as much as she him. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
“I’ll want to see those new shoes on you,” he said, as he strode down the hallway, away from her. “And nothing else.”
Charish blew him a kiss, then turned and raced to the garage and the waiting driver.
* * *
LYRIC SORTED THROUGH the bedroom, looking for her clothes, while Vail collected the things he didn’t want to leave behind, such as Green Snake and his Johnny Cash CD collection.
Carefully, she picked up her pink dress and shook it, watching the flakes of dust shimmer as if particles misting out of a thick wool blanket. Finally she decided to hold it out the patio door and give it a good whack against the wall.
“That should do.” She slipped it on and stood a moment, testing to see if she’d feel a tingle. Nothing. “Good deal.”
Noticing the thin green stem on the dust-littered floor, she plucked it up. “Vail’s lily bracelet.”
All the flowers were gone, which meant, well, she wasn’t sure what it meant.
Stepping outside onto the patio, she propped her elbows on the iron railing and played the stem between her fingers. The afternoon breeze kissed her cheeks and brushed fine hair strands across her nose. In the distance a crowd rushed toward the metro station near the Opéra Bastille and the scents of chocolate pastries and savory meats wafted up to her.
Vail had allowed her to drink his blood. The realization sent a thrill up her spine and a wave of goose bumps rippling across her skin. It had been such an intimate clutch, one she’d never before experienced with another vampire. Vail’s blood was sweeter than mortal blood, yet had been thick with darkness, much like a chocolate truffle. If she never tasted any other blood the rest of her life, she could be satisfied.
Now if only he trusted her enough to drink her blood. He did trust her. She sensed he wished to, but he had an entire lifetime of revulsion against vampires to overcome. She wouldn’t push him. He had to take things slowly. He’d just gotten clean. They needed to celebrate that.
As soon as they’d ditched the faeries chasing them and returned the gown, Lyric intended to do just that, by taking Vail out and treating him like the powerful vampire he was. She’d take him to the vampire club in the second and introduce him to some of the more honorable vamps she knew, like Vincent LaPierre and Blu’s husband, Creed.
“The flowers are gone.”
Lyric startled so frantically at the soft female voice, she slammed a shoulder against the brick wall and slapped a palm to the iron railing.
A petite woman with white hair curled high upon her head in a style that looked set for an eighteenth-century salon, stood beside her looking over the city, as if they’d been having a casual conversation and she’d not just appeared from out of nowhere at Lyric’s side.
“Who are you?”
And then she knew the woman was faery. Not because pearlescent wings jutted from her back, between the folds of the shimmery red gown, but because she inhaled the lure of dust that glittered within the woman’s hair. It would taste so good…
“Mistress of Winter’s Edge,” she offered, without looking at Lyric.
“Vail’s faery stepmother?”
“Be quiet, child. I don’t wish him to know I’m so close. When did the last bell fall?”
“The bell? Oh.” Lyric looked at the bare stem she held. Vail had called them May bells. “I’m not sure. He’s been out of it the past few days, and I—well…it must have happened then. What does this mean? He said the flowers were supposed to protect him. Is he in danger now?”
Stupid question, Lyric. He’d been in danger since meeting her. Suddenly conscious of her faery mark, she tilted her head to ensure her hair hung over her ear. Would any faery pick up on the mark or did it only attract Zett?
“Has he been quick to anger? Brooding?” the faery asked.
“No. He just got clean. There’s no ichor in his system now. He’s feeling better than he ever has.”
The faery hissed inwardly. “Has he taken blood?”
“No, he’s—” Afraid. “—unsure.”
The fairy’s wings tightened, then rippled with a shiver.
“Vaillant has a dark hunger that can never be sated, but it can be disguised. All his life I have seen that he is protected. Then you come along, and now, see? He is vulnerable.”
“I didn’t do this.”
“He is clean of all ichor?”
Lyric sensed the faery was not pleased. Had she kept Vail addicted to ichor during his life to keep him complacent, a captive in Faery? If so, she was as cruel as Vail had alluded to.
“He is vampire,” Lyric stated firmly, not about to kowtow to this woman regardless of whether she was mistress of something or even a queen. “He belongs in the mortal realm. Blood is his sustenance.”
“He does belong here, but he will never be like you and your breed.”
“He already is. Yet he needs to pull himself free and see beyond whatever lies you’ve fed him.”
“The sidhe do not lie,” Cressida stated plainly. “It is beyond our means or necessity.”
“Then tell Vail where to find his father.”
“That is not for me to interfere.”
“But you know?”
“Not exactly. Vaillant the Dark has already a means to learn that information here in the mortal realm.”
Yes, Rhys Hawkes, who had been frustratingly tight-lipped with the information, a
s well. Why deny the man information about his father? What harm could simply meeting him cause?
As much harm as meeting his mother.
The faery turned to face her and Lyric felt her blood chill. Bold violet eyes conveyed a sad sense of disgust as she looked over Lyric’s wrinkled dress, and sex-tangled hair. She suddenly felt self-conscious that she had only buttoned one button and her cleavage was revealed.
“I adore my vampire son,” Cressida said. “I, above all others, love him most.”
“You cannot—he said you wanted his brother Trystan, that you were so angry with your incorrect choice you made him feel unwanted. Unloved.”
“Enough,” the faery muttered. “You listen to words, but do not look into Vaillant’s heart. Here.” She thrust something toward Lyric. “If you love him you will make sure he wears this.”
It was another lily bracelet. Lyric took it, and the moment her fingers touched the stem, Cressida shimmered away. The air cooled drastically, and Lyric smelled ice and hoarfrost, and then nothing.
* * *
VAIL ALLOWED Green Snake to curl about his arm—then gripped his chest. A unique, ferocious stab pierced at his organs. It attacked so suddenly he could not disregard it as a simple ache. Staggering, he steadied himself against the back of the sofa.
What was it? He…needed something. Something to feel…what?
“Too much dust in this place,” he muttered through gritted teeth. That was it. The cravings were acting of their own volition. “I’ll never be completely clean until I get away from it. Time for us to leave, Green Snake. Today is the day the Seelie will come for the gown. I need to call Rhys.”
He looked for his cell phone in the collection of personal items he intended to take with him. Green Snake slithered over his arm and across the stack of CDs.
“Where’s the phone?”
“It was in your bedroom,” Lyric said, walking out to hand it to him. “That’s all you’re going to take along? Have you nothing of value?”
He shrugged. “What is valuable?”
“That you own? Your car, for one thing.”
“Drove it into a river on the night I met my mother.”
“What? Vail, that thing was worth hundreds of thousands. Didn’t Rhys give it to you?”
“Listen, I may not know the value of mortal material things, or even care…” He slid a hand along her cheek. “But I do value one thing, and that is you, lover. You are priceless to me. There’s not a faery gown in this realm that could begin to match your worth to me.”
Just as he kissed her, the living room window shattered inward, scattering glass shards everywhere.
Vail pushed Lyric against the wall and yelped as a glass shard cut through his forearm. His body crushed hers, their eyes searching each other’s, and he gripped the glass sticking out of his arm and dropped it to the floor.
She stared at his bleeding arm and ran her tongue along her lip.
“No time, my hungry vixen,” he murmured, yet regretted the refusal. Glancing aside he noted the fist-size rock on the floor. “Someone wants our attention.”
“I recognize that stationery.” Lyric bent over the rock. “It’s my mother’s.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
WALKING OUTSIDE TO talk with Lyric’s mother could be nothing but a trap. But Vail took comfort that the gown was still hidden. It could be used as a bargaining chip. The mother would never take back the daughter without that valuable item, or so he suspected.
Although, now that he thought on it, Lyric should prove more valuable to Zett than the gown. Unless he no longer cared if anyone discovered his mistake.
No, Zett would not stop until Lyric was dead. It would humiliate the faery lord should anyone discover he’d marked a vampiress for his bride.
Slipping his hand into hers, Vail paused in the building’s foyer doorway. “Will you have me?”
“What deep thoughts are rushing through your brain, lover?”
“You’ve taken my blood.” He kissed her hand and rubbed the back of it across his lips. She in turn, inspected the cut on his arm, which had healed but left behind a smear of blood. “I want you to be mine. Forever. If you’ll have me.”
“Yes, forever, vampire.” She touched a smear of his blood to her tongue. “I will have you.”
That answer put him over the moon and into the stratosphere. Vail didn’t even register descending the stairs to street level, until he stepped out into the over-cast sky and rain droplets trickled from the roof onto his shoulders. A white limousine waited at the curb. Rain drooled down the darkened windows. He clasped Lyric’s hand and tugged her next to him, kissing her on the forehead. “I’m here for you.”
“Touching.” The voice sounded from beside them, tucked in the shadows of the building’s overhang. A petite blonde woman stepped forward as they looked toward the car and street. “You found yourself a pretty toy, Lyric.”
“Mother,” Lyric said sharply. Her fingers tightened about Vail’s until he winced.
“This is Vaillant,” she said. “Vail, my mother, Charish.”
“We’ve met,” Charish said. “I see you’ve done the job you were hired to do, Monsieur Vaillant. You’ve found my daughter. But I suspect you have no intention of returning her. Is that Hawkes Associates’ standard operating procedure?”
“I haven’t yet located the gown,” he said, knowing the woman would not be such a pushover as her small frame suggested. “I never do a job halfway.”
“Well, I thank you for your work, monsieur, but now that my daughter is safe, she can return home with me.”
“Perhaps you should ask Lyric if she wishes to go home?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Mother, he’s right. I’d prefer not to return.”
Charish Santiago’s jaw dropped open, but she snapped it shut. “I don’t understand.”
At that reaction, Vail took a step back from his rigid suspicions. Was it possible Charish did love Lyric and really had no clue what she may have gotten her daughter involved in?
“I can’t go home now, Mother, not while Zett is looking for me.”
“Because you have the gown we agreed to give him in the bargain. Just hand it over to him, dear. You know I will send protection for you.”
“The bargain,” Vail said. “To see the gown handed over to Zett in return for faeries? That’s a crime punishable by the Council.”
Charish sucked in a gasp. He’d been right on one part. The woman was trafficking in faeries. He’d figured out the mystery. Yet, why couldn’t he feel the satisfaction he should feel?
“You make assumptions. I’ll not abide such accusations. Do you know who I am?”
“Yes, you’re the matriarch of a family of thieves, murderers and liars.”
Lyric squeezed his hand, as if to warn. He saw in her eyes a misty plea. She didn’t like his harsh manner with her mother. And he shouldn’t be so cruel. She was Lyric’s mother, and Lyric worried she was involved with a tyrant. The deal with Zett could have been a desperate attempt to free herself. Would both women succumb and return home?
“Let’s go, Lyric.” Charish stepped onto the sidewalk. “Tell Monsieur Hawkes he may keep the fee I paid even though the job was not finished.”
“You don’t want me to find your precious faery gown?” Vail asked. “Zett won’t like that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and if you continue to accuse me, you’ll never live to see the next sunrise.”
“Mother!”
“Sunrises are overrated.” He put an arm around Lyric’s shoulder and she melted against him. She was on his side—for the moment. “Nor will Lyric live to see another dawn should you allow her to go anywhere near Zett. There’s nothing easy about leaving Faery.”
“I know that.”
“And yet you would have sent your daughter to Faery to make the exchange.”
“It wasn’t required she go into Faery. The meeting was just outside a portal.”
“Come on, Charish, you know better. If you’d trusted Zett to not take your daughter why did you intend to send along demon guards? Be truthful. She was bait to sweeten the deal.”
“No, I—”
“For a vampiress who wears a faery mark, she would have stood on Faery ground less than a mortal minute before Zett slayed her.”
“A mark?” Charish flickered frightened eyes at her daughter. “What mark?”
Hell, Vail had forgotten the mother wasn’t aware of the damning mark.
“There’s something you need to know, Mother. I met the Lord of Midsummer Dark the last summer of camp before my blood hunger developed.”
Charish gasped. “You never told me that.”
“I was young and thought if I ignored it, nothing would come of it. He…marked me. I didn’t know what it meant until much later when I dared to tell Leo.”
“You told your brother but not me?”
“I never dared tell you. You were so strict, and only let me date people you knew. I thought you’d keep me a prisoner forever to protect me—”
“You’re damned right! I can’t believe this. Lyric? Oh, my baby, if I had known, I would have never agreed to such a bargain. I would have never put you in harm’s way. Oh.”
“I know that. I’m sorry, Mother. I thought I could buy some time by disappearing while Leo searched for a way to have the mark removed, and then still have the gown for you to hand over. I had no idea you were dealing in such horrid crimes.”
“I’m—”
“Don’t deny it, Mother. We saw the Santiago crest on a faery in FaeryTown.”
“What were you doing there? You took her to that vile place?”
“Does it matter?” Vail countered. “Are you involved in the heinous crime of trafficking faeries?”
Charish hung her head. Arms clasping across her chest, she shook her head and touched Lyric’s arm. “Your father has trafficked in faeries for decades. It’s an easy way to make money. And Connie insisted.”
“Connie?” Vail asked.
“Connor,” Lyric explained. “Her fiancé.”
