by Nadine Mutas
“You stepped in to help me.” She swallowed. “I appreciate that.”
If he hadn’t caught her, she’d have gotten a lot more than those few bruises and scratches—which had perplexingly healed overnight. And if I wasn’t so messed up, I could have simply thanked you instead of trying to burn you to a crisp…
He bowed, this time from the waist. “I bear you no ill will.”
“Neither do I.” A sigh of relief. “Want to take a walk?”
His eyes flickered with surprise, but he caught himself quickly. “It would be my pleasure.”
She nodded, and together they strolled down one of the many meandering paths near her cabin. Anxiety still a buzz in her blood, she made herself breathe slowly, steadily, while walking next to this male who was as yet unfamiliar to her, a fact that made her pulse flutter as fast as the wings of a bird trapped in a cage.
Which was exactly why she forced herself to do this. I don’t want to be snared by fear anymore.
“How did you control my fire?” she asked. “You’re not a demon, are you?” Given he was her daytime guard and able to use his magic when the sun was up, he had to be of a different species.
“No, I’m not.” The light caught in his red strands as he angled his head, and the motion revealed the pointed ends of his ears that had been hidden by his hair.
“Fae?”
He nodded. “Fire fae. I can’t create it,” he said with a self-conscious smile when she opened her mouth to ask that exact question, “but I can control any flames I encounter.”
Intrigued, she regarded him, his medieval-looking hunter’s attire, the daggers strapped to his sides, the sword on his belt. “I’ve never met a fae before.”
Well, that wasn’t quite true. Basil Murray, one of her best friends with all the makings of a big brother, if not by blood then by bonds of affection, recently turned out to be half fae, half demon. He wasn’t related to the Murrays after all, but rather taken in as a baby and raised as Hazel’s son and Lily’s twin brother. The complex story of how he was swapped for Lily’s real twin sister, Rose, by a fae who bound Hazel to secrecy about it all was the stuff of an adventure novel.
Basil had recently run off to Faerie to find Rose and bring her back, and Hazel followed him not much later, with Basil’s father, the demon Tallak. Maeve’s head still spun from putting and keeping all those pieces together, and a part of her hungered for news of how Basil and Hazel were doing…whether they were back yet. Unharmed.
“There aren’t that many fae outside of Faerie,” she said to the male walking next to her. “Meeting one is very rare.”
“Yes, we do prefer to stay safely ensconced within our borders.”
She peered at him out of the corner of her eye.
“Go on,” he said with a sly smile. “Ask me.”
Well… “Then why do you live here, in Arawn’s dominion?”
“I had to flee Faerie and ask the Demon Lord for asylum. There was a price on my head, and entering Arawn’s service was the only way I could obtain the necessary protection to avoid the bounty hunters sent after me. I bargained for my life in exchange for sixty years of working for Arawn.”
She gasped. “Sixty years?”
“It might seem long to a mortal. For fae, that’s a tiny fraction of our life span. And it’s not too high a price to pay to evade the court’s wrath.”
“The fae court?”
He nodded, shrugged. “I made the mistake of seducing the mate of a highborn noble, and drew the male’s unending ire.”
“He wanted you dead simply for sleeping with his wife?”
A humorless chuckle. “Fae males are notoriously possessive and territorial, and they defend their honor relentlessly. So, yes, cuckolding him was sufficient reason for him to unleash bounty hunters on me.” He sighed, his eyes turning flat. “So even when my service with Arawn ends, I won’t be able to return to my homeland. He’ll never stop hounding me, and he’ll know it as soon as I step foot across the border.”
“But,” she said with a frown, “the entire royal court was murdered about a week ago.”
Kelior stopped dead in his tracks, his body tense. “What?”
“You…haven’t heard?”
“No,” he choked out through clenched teeth. “How do you know?”
She pushed a stray lock of her hair off her face where it tickled her nose, only to pull it back again right away, familiar embarrassment heating her cheeks. “The…demon who did it showed up on the Murrays’ doorstep. He pretended to be the fae who’d exchanged Basil for Hazel’s real daughter right after birth, and claimed to have come for him now. But Hazel was suspicious and hit him with a truth spell, forced him to come clean about his real identity, and the fact that Basil is his son from an illicit relationship with a fae. Apparently, the fae court imprisoned him twenty-six years ago and he only recently managed to escape.” A pause. “He killed all the royals in revenge for his lover and child. He believed both of them had been murdered, until he learned Basil was still alive.”
Kelior blew out a breath that was half a laugh. “They’re all dead?”
She nodded. “Hazel’s truth spell was incredibly powerful. The demon couldn’t have lied about it.”
Hope lit Kelior’s light blue eyes for a moment before a shadow passed over his features. “Well, I still can’t return home. Not yet. I have another thirty years on my contract.”
“Oh,” Maeve whispered, feeling the sting of disappointment on his behalf.
She was about to suggest he ask Arawn for a reduction of his term of service when Kelior froze. Signaling her to be quiet, he drew his sword, angled his head as if listening. She strained to hear whatever it was that had alerted him, but her ears picked up nothing but the usual forest sounds.
With a gesture for her to stay back, he rushed into the undergrowth, vanished in the maze of the woods.
Heart pounding, she waited. Listened.
There. Faint sounds…of a struggle. Rustling, snarling, hissing. Silence.
She peeked between the trees, made out the form of Kelior a few yards away, bent over something on the ground, hidden by ferns. His posture wasn’t tense anymore, and he sheathed his sword, so she gave in to her curiosity and inched closer.
When he noticed her approach, he didn’t order her to stay back, simply grimaced and said, “I’m not sure you want to see this. Maybe you should…”
But she’d already glimpsed it, was there before she could make the conscious decision to do so.
A choked sob built in her throat. Her hand shook as she raised it to cover her mouth. “Is it…?”
“Not yet.” He clenched his jaw. “It might be a mercy to end it, though.”
The bobcat’s paws twitched, a heavy breath rattling in its chest. There was so much damage…
“What did this?” Her voice was a broken whisper.
“My best guess…some sort of acid, or maybe kerosene and fire”—a pause, a hard swallow—“judging by how much fur and skin is burned.”
“Who would—” She blinked against the blur of tears.
“Some…humans are known to torture animals thus.” He unsheathed a dagger. “I suppose it was attacked outside Arawn’s lands, near a settlement, and it managed to get away before they killed it, then dragged itself this far.”
The tears spilled over now, warm and salty on her lips, dripping onto the bobcat’s fur as she leaned over the suffering animal. “Can we… Is there anything we can do? Maybe we can get it to a healer?”
She reached out to the limp cat with hesitant fingers, her chest aching with the need to help.
A hiss, a flash of claws and teeth, sharp pain shooting up her arm. Droplets of her blood settled on her clothes and on the snarling bobcat as it sank back to the ground, quivering from the last-ditch effort to defend itself. Kelior lunged forward, his dagger at the ready, but she held him back with her good arm, pressing the other to her front.
“Don’t!” She sniffled, more hot tears tracki
ng down her face. She wiped them off, her hand wet from her tears, her blood.
“It’ll be cruel to let it suffer longer,” Kelior replied.
She pressed her lips together. Reaching out once more to the bobcat, she managed to lay her hand on its flank this time, on the part not burned. The feline whimpered, its paws flexing, but it held still.
“I’m sorry,” Maeve whispered.
She withdrew her hand, closed her eyes, and nodded at Kelior.
But the fae didn’t kill it.
“Look,” he said instead, a strange note to his voice.
So she did. Opening her eyes, she frowned at the cat…whose wounds were healing. Fresh pink skin where minutes before its flesh was charred and twisted, new fur growing where it had burned off.
“Are you doing this?” she rasped, gaping at Kelior.
He shook his head, eyes wide. “Are you?”
“No.” She swallowed hard. “I wouldn’t know how, even if had access to my witch powers. I never learned how to heal.”
Never learned how to wield her magic at all, since it was locked inside her when she was eight.
“Well, someone has to be doing this,” Kelior muttered, “because this cat was dying, and now it’s…”
“Purring.” She blinked, her thoughts frozen in sheer disbelief.
Its lighter wounds were now almost completely covered by spotted fur again, the worse ones still healing, with new skin, the bobcat rose on wobbly legs. Maeve gaped as it moved, its feline grace returning to limbs that were all but limp with impending death just moments ago.
A long, unreadable look out of fathomless yellow eyes, and then the cat bounded—bounded—away into the growing shadows of the evening woods.
“What just happened?” Maeve asked, her voice expressionless.
“I have no idea,” Kelior said just as flatly. “But if I were Death, I’d be thoroughly vexed right now.”
Chapter 16
Merle disconnected the call and pocketed her cell phone again, walking out of the room she currently occupied at the Murray mansion, down the hall to the staircase. After the escalation at the meeting with the Draconians, she and the others agreed it was better for her to stick close to the Aequitas, since—without Rhun—she was the only one living at the Victorian. The Murray mansion offered more than enough room for her to bunk down, and she’d be with Lily and Alek, who were still camped out here, too.
And now Hazel was back from Faerie, Merle had the additional protection of a powerful Elder witch living with her.
This afternoon’s return of Hazel, Basil, and Tallak—Basil’s demon father, something she still couldn’t wrap her mind around—this afternoon was a welcome surprise, all the more joyous in light of Basil’s mating to his newfound love, the fae Isa, as well as the fact they found Rose alive and were able to bring her home.
So now the Murray mansion was filled once more with love, laughter, the occasional snide remark, all in good humor, and above all, hope. After losing both Maeve and Rhun in such a short time—she couldn’t stop to think about that, or else she’d break down—Merle sorely needed the company, the comfort, and the support of her friends who were like chosen family to her. If she didn’t smile or joke with them at least a little, she’d crumple to dust under the pressure of needing to find Rhun, of needing to make sure he didn’t hurt anymore.
Hazel’s presence in particular was reassuring, the other Elder witch’s magic as warm and nurturing as it was powerful. Having Hazel back gave Merle more confidence that they could soon free her mate.
Which brought her back to…
She entered the kitchen, joined Hazel and Lily where they sat in the breakfast nook, looking out at the moonlit garden. Rose lay on her back on the grass, where she’d been for over an hour already. Even though she was Lily’s identical twin, and should resemble her in appearance, the difference—born of years of neglect and starvation, both physically as well as magically—was striking. It hurt Merle to even look at Rose, the other witch’s cheeks too hollow, arms and legs too thin, her aura subdued, her powers stifled.
Hazel would feed her back to strength, in more ways than one, but until then, Rose was a wraith, the shadow of a husk of what she should be.
Merle swallowed, forced her attention away from the young woman who seemed to have suffered an even worse ordeal than Maeve. “Where’s Basil?” she asked instead.
Lily smirked, humor lighting her indigo eyes. “He’s…busy.”
Merle realized Isa was nowhere to be found either and grinned. “Riiiight.”
Good for him. Her heart jumped with joy for Baz, her chest a little less tight just knowing he’d found happiness and love. They needed more of that in these difficult times.
“What about Tallak? Where’s he off to?”
“Brooding, for all I care.” Hazel folded her arms, her usually warm brown eyes chilled at the mention of the hæmingr demon.
To say she and Basil’s biological father had gotten off to a rocky start was quite the understatement. One would think they’d have a lot in common, seeing as they both loved Baz as their child, but putting these two together in one room—or simply in the same general metro area—was akin to throwing a cat and a dog in the same crate. Highly entertaining, as Rhun would say, but also a bloody mess of fur and claws and teeth that could only end badly.
“So,” Merle said, changing the subject before Hazel’s hackles rose too much, “I just got off the phone with Shobha Gupta. It seems we’ve got a good chance at snatching a witch after all.” She drummed her fingers on the table, biting her lip.
“Merle,” Lily sighed, tilting her head, “don’t make me pull it out of you, because I will.”
Grinning at her best friend since kindergarten, she explained, “Anjali’s mate is a shadow demon.”
Lily narrowed her eyes, but Hazel caught on.
She raised her dark brows. “They’re going to use his skills to sneak up on one of Juneau’s witches.”
“Yes.” Merle smiled. “It’s perfect. Thorne can get close to them without anyone noticing, and he can even pull someone into his shadow cloaking to conceal them as well. With the right tools and some assistance, he can not only trap a witch, he can bring her to us unseen.”
Lily straightened. “That’s brilliant.”
Merle nodded. “The Guptas will send a witch with him to help render the Draconians’ witch unconscious and all, and they’ll let us know as soon as they have snatched someone.”
“I can’t tell you how much I love it that we’ve all gone Dark Side,” Lily said with a smug smile. “Using demon powers alongside witch magic.” She shook her head, still grinning. “How devious.”
“And not too long ago,” Alek said, strolling into the kitchen, “that idea would have made you go into cardiac arrest.”
Lily angled her head back to accept Alek’s kiss as he leaned over from behind her chair. “Well, I am capable of change. I stopped fighting my demons.” An unrepentant grin. “Now I snuggle with them instead.”
“Oh, please.” Merle rolled her eyes, pointed her finger at Lily. “I was the first of us to snuggle with a demon.”
“Funny how more and more of you witches seem to end up with one,” Alek mused.
Hazel startled after a moment, glanced around. “What are you all looking at me for?”
“Nothing,” everybody said, a tad too quickly.
Alek cleared his throat, his expression turning somber as he looked at Merle. “I have a summons for you.”
Merle froze. “What? From Arawn?”
Jaw clenched, Alek nodded.
“What does he want? Is it Maeve? Did you hear anything from her?”
He combed a hand through his hair. “I haven’t been able to find out how she’s doing. Where she even is. But Arawn wants to see you. Tonight. He didn’t say why, just that you’re supposed to come with me.”
Heart threatening to beat out of her ribcage, Merle rose.
“Wait.” Lily laid a hand on h
er arm. “You’re not walking in there just like that, are you?”
“He’s promised safe passage in and out,” Alek said grudgingly.
Merle hesitated for a moment, then nodded at the duhokrad demon. “Let’s go.”
They went out to Alek’s pickup, drove off under cover of new camouflage spells courtesy of Hazel, meant to confuse anyone staking out the house, so they wouldn’t be able to focus on a vehicle leaving the mansion. The spell was strong enough to cling to a car driving off the property, then continue for a few miles before vanishing. Made it near impossible to ambush anyone close to the house.
When Alek didn’t take the route to the infamous lake that so far was the only means to reach Arawn’s lair, Merle frowned at him.
“I thought we were going to Arawn.”
Alek’s hands clenched on the steering wheel. “We are.”
“But—”
“Just wait. You’ll see.”
Unease prickled through her. “You know that I can still use my magic, right? And that I will if I’m threatened.”
Alek snorted. “Please. Like I’d hurt a hair on your head when you’re my mate’s best friend.” A dark glance. “Not to mention I’d rather rip off my arm than harm a pregnant female.”
“Well, okay, then.” She rubbed her nose. “Just so we’re on the same page and all.”
“We’re simply taking another way to Arawn’s.” His voice was threaded with a growl.
She raised her brows just as he parked at the side of a road near a towering cliff half-covered by evergreens. “I thought the lake was the way to his lair.”
“So did I.” Alek got out of the truck, his growl becoming more distinct. “Ten years. Ten damn years I’ve been working for the bastard, and he never once deigned to show me this route, much less let me use it.” He stalked ahead of her toward the cliff. “I had to go through the fucking lake each and every time he summoned me.”
And thus arrive in front Arawn dripping wet, cold, and uncomfortable, which was kind of the whole point with the Demon Lord’s insistence that people use the lake to get to him.
