The Darkling Lord: Court of the Banished book 1 (Annwyn Series 4)

by Shona Husk

  “Of course.” She’d watched the news on television, but it had all seemed rather similar to her.

  The seconds ticked by. She had to make a move one way or the other. “Did you want to come in?”

  He gave a single nod and peeled himself off the doorframe. Perhaps she should’ve closed her door, but she wanted to appear accessible. “Thank you. A gentleman always waits for a Lady’s permission.”

  “I doubt you were ever a gentleman.”

  His gaze narrowed for a moment. His blue eyes were as pale and unreadable. “I wasn’t born one, but I have taken the place of many.”

  She bet he had, but she hadn’t meant her comment as a jab, merely an observation. “After taking their souls?”

  “I needed an identity and I wanted to live well.” He displayed his palms as if his reasons were obvious and that he had nothing to hide.

  How had Annwyn never noticed him before? But she knew the answer. The Court had been wrapped up in their own games. Perhaps one darkling had been nothing to be concerned about while the old Queen was upsetting the balance.

  She sat down on the bed and beckoned him to join her. There was nowhere else to sit together in the small room. He didn’t shut the door, but he joined her. That was progress. He’d been pushing her away ever since the kiss. Because he didn’t trust her—smart move and one she could respect—or because others, like Marlis, had warned him away?

  That odd man, Kaid, didn’t trust her. He was definitely not human, and even though she could feel the magic of Annwyn round him, he was like no fairy she’d ever met. Was he wild fae? But that didn’t seem right either, as wild fae avoided cities and Annwyn and didn’t usually look that human.

  She didn’t like people she couldn’t work out. If she couldn’t work them out, it meant that she had no leverage. At the moment the only leverage she had with Henry was that he was attracted to her, even if he wasn’t acting on it. He needed to act.

  “So is Henry Saint one of the personas you stole?”

  He nodded. “I have been Henry Saint many times over the last century. I am my own great grandson at the moment.”

  Of course no mortal would accept that a man could live for decades without aging. “What is your real name?”

  “I have no idea what my mother called me.” He looked away, his gaze landing on the television. The reporter was talking about high unemployment despite the decreased population and the need for new businesses to start up. The feed cut to farming communes in the southern states. For some reason, it was like looking into the past. Then she realized animals were drawing ploughs and every woman was dressed in long skirts and was either pregnant or holding a baby. The farmers were talking about their success and how returning to the bible was the way forward.

  “Going back is not going forward.” Henry said as he shook his head.

  “But isn’t that what you want to do?”

  “Not like that. I want it to work because people want it to work, not because they have been compelled or they have nowhere else to go.”

  “At least they have food.” That seemed to be rather intermittent here.

  Henry shook his head. “I’d rather go hungry than lose my free will to a man who simply wants to enforce his world view on everyone else. That is what he is doing. Who there looks happy?”

  Spoken like a true fairy. Free will was everything. It was the one guarantee, which was why deals were always carefully considered, as they chipped away at free will and narrowed the path.

  Felan had swept away all the old guideposts and people were struggling to find new ones. It might have been smarter to make small changes, although she had to concede he had discovered who were his friends and foes very quickly this way.

  She looked at the people on the screen. Not one was smiling, except the man in charge. No one had been smiling in Annwyn either toward the end. She’d watched and noticed even if she hadn’t been able to take part. Being a shadow at that point had been a blessing through the transition, as it meant that the old Queen had no power to coerce her and all shadows looked the same so she’d been unidentifiable. She’d been faceless and nameless. For the most part it had been awful.

  But this wasn’t Annwyn. And while the farmer’s subjects were unhappy, they were unified. Henry didn’t have that control, in part because he had no rules of his own. Even Felan had brought in new laws to gain control. A leader must lead. Although a good leader didn’t attempt to squash the will to live out of the people.

  “You already have dissent among the Greys and exiled—”

  “They are free to leave. I came here to make an investment and turn a profit. To help a city that I once loved, and that took me in. I want to create something. To do something worthwhile instead of taking so that I might live. I didn’t come here to build an empire or rule a bunch of Greys.” He looked away as though admitting his ambition only went so far was a sin.

  That was interesting. The Greys around him weren’t part of his plan. His plan wasn’t about Annwyn at all. He was afraid that he’d vanish without note just like most other mortals. However he wasn’t entirely mortal, or fairy, and he was caught in the middle. Never aging and always having to reinvent himself so people didn’t realize what he was. He was always erasing who he was. “Even if the humans don’t know your name.”

  He gave her a small smile. “Yeah.”

  Henry didn’t know it yet, but what he wanted was to be the Darkling King of Detroit. He wanted to rule by giving the people their freedom—even though it wasn’t what mortals were used to—the same way as it worked in Annwyn.

  For a moment though, he looked lonely, his blue eyes haunted. Maybe he was. He couldn’t take mortal lovers as he’d kill them. The only people he could hang around with were Greys. Ugh, depressing. Did he sleep with Greys aside from Marlis? Darah was sure that something had gone on there. Not all Greys were ugly, at least not at first. Had he made the mistake of having a mortal lover only to learn what happened? The questions burned her tongue. She hadn’t lied when she’d said that he intrigued her.

  “What about you? What do you want?” His gaze sharpened as if seeking a lie.

  She could avoid the truth, omit and dance around the edges, but that wouldn’t get her any closer. She was aware that even though they were sitting only inches apart, the distance between them was more than she could bridge with a single touch. “I want to go home.”

  “To Annwyn.”

  Darah nodded. “All fairies want to go home, even the Greys who act as though they have made peace with their fate.”

  He shook his head as though she couldn’t be more wrong. “I don’t want to go there.”

  “But are you truly fairy? Changelings aren’t, I mean not really. They are mortal, but have some small magic from their fairy blood. You are something else…not mortal, not fairy and yet you need a soul to live.” She frowned as she watched him. “Perhaps in Annwyn you wouldn’t need a soul; you could stop killing and just be.”

  “Be what? I know you have a strict hierarchy there. I am not naïve when it comes to Annwyn and fairies…though I must admit I haven’t met many Court fairies.”

  “Ah, but you have met some.” How many and what offers had they made him?

  “One. Many years ago, a powerful Lord paid me a visit. Told me what I was and warned me against killing for fun or profit. I started haunting hospitals on my birthday after that…and then eventually the gutters. My body isn’t fussy about the quality.”

  “And you steal it with a kiss.”

  A slow, single nod. He gaze was on her. She could see the desire in his eyes, reflecting her own. The heat made her ache. Her skin craved to be touched. That was the cruelty of being a shadow, beyond the loss of status or name—the loss of touch and friendship of any kind. Each shadow lived in a bubble of their own existence with plenty of time to reflect on their crimes and serve the Court in reparation.

  “I could give you more than a kiss.” Her voice dropped to a soft purr, the kind that m
ade human men drop to their knees to worship her body. Henry watched her more intently, as if expecting a trick.

  “And what would I have to give up in exchange? There is always a price with fairies.” He got up and walked toward the door.

  The Greys he hung around with had obviously given him more than a passing knowledge of fairies and Annwyn. Was he deliberately staying within Annwyn’s rules to avoid drawing attention? If she made a deal with him, would she be breaking the rule about making deals with the banished? She didn’t know exactly where Henry fell; darklings that lived into adulthood were so rare that no one had probably given it much thought in Annwyn.

  She liked survivors. Henry had played the odds and discovered that he held the winning hand. She just needed a peek at his cards.

  Darah held her breath as he reached the door. Had she pushed too far, too fast? She didn’t want to let him leave, not yet. It had been a long time since any man had looked at her with lust. What could she say to make him stay? She wouldn’t beg. Couldn’t. She was fairy.

  He placed his hand on the wood. For a moment he didn’t move. Hope flared as she waited, counting out the heartbeats. Then he shut the door and turned to face her.

  Her lips curved as he walked back toward her. There was no fear or concern in his eyes even though he knew that he couldn’t trust her. No doubt he was watching her as closely as she was watching him. Despite the lack of trust and gossamer honesty between them, the attraction couldn’t be hidden or faked…only acted on.

  “No deals. No promises and no games.” Better to be safe than sorry when it came to Annwyn’s rules. Plus she had nothing to gain from binding Henry in deal when she could learn as much from being in his bed. She’d almost seen enough to make her preliminary report to the Lady of the Hunt.

  Darah pushed that thought aside. It tasted too much like betrayal. Her words to Dylis would have to be carefully chosen.

  Henry walked toward her. His gaze skimmed over her. “A fairy handing out a free pass makes me even more suspicious.”

  “Are you always this paranoid?” She would be in his place. She beckoned him closer.

  He smiled, the half-smile of a man with secrets. “Your presence gives me reason to be concerned.”

  “That’s not the only thing it does.” She watched him for a moment. He was expecting something from her. He played cautiously, with his cards held close, giving out just enough that she thought she was getting to know him. He would do very well at Court…the old Court before Felan had thrown everyone out and told them...what was the mortal phrase? To get a life. She reached her hand out and then lay back on the bed, leaving him no choice but to follow. “I want you.”

  “That I believe.” He moved onto the bed, his body framing hers. Then he brushed his mouth over hers in a kiss that was far too delicate for the heat in his eyes.

  It was hard to believe that he wasn’t a fairy. The way he moved, the way he looked, even the way he kissed. It was careful without giving away how much desire was banked behind each move.

  She wanted more than the carefully constructed routines she got at Court. She’d spent a year and a day as a shadow servant, she deserved more. But only if she gave more. She released a shuddering breath. Right now that wasn’t on her agenda. Henry was a means to an end, and she had to remember that and not give into the raw lust now spiraling through her body.

  It was just because it had been so long and he had qualities that she admired in a man. That was all. That was all it could ever be, because he wasn’t fairy. The pretty package hid the ugly truth about the way he lived.

  His lips had caused more death than joy.

  And yet when his mouth moved against hers, all she wanted was more. Her fingers curled into the bed sheets instead of reaching for him. His hand skimmed down her side and slid under her t-shirt to caress the bare skin above her hip, and his lips brushed her jaw and down her neck.

  Lust was never revealed in Annwyn, as it could then be used against you. She’d done it. Fairies had no scruples when it came to using anything and everything to get what they wanted. That she wanted Henry just made what she was doing easier. It also meant that she had to be careful not to be consumed.

  She undid his shirt and smoothed her palms over his chest. His fairy blood showed through in his perfect physique, although for all she knew he also exercised. His skin was also marked with old scars, soft and smooth beneath her fingers. There’d be time for questions later, once she was closer. Once he trusted her more.

  But it wasn’t trust that she wanted. He needed to fall for her and be blinded to all else. Fairies could fall in love, she knew that, but she had never experienced it. Wouldn’t know what it even felt like.

  Terrifying, uncomfortable, and dangerous were all words that followed the idea of falling in love with anyone. It went against everything she’d ever worked for. Love was something that could be exploited, and after Shea she’d vowed that she’d never be taken advantage of again.

  She could control the desire. Use it. Revel in it for just a little while. His skin was cool beneath her fingertips, or maybe she was too hot, burning up from the inside. It had been too long. Even longer since it had been for anything more than to seal a deal. The lust became a hunger to be truly desired instead of a pawn.

  Darah pushed his shirt off and he managed to shrug out of it without taking his lips from her body. Then he rocked back so he was kneeling over her. He lifted the edge of her t-shirt and slowly eased it higher. He kissed her belly. Her ribs. Her skin tingled from his touch. She was going to enjoy this more than she probably should…there was too much desire sliding though her blood for this to be called one hundred percent mission related.

  Right now she didn’t care. Taking something for herself felt good.

  Henry wasn’t acting as though he’d never had sex before. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the details.

  She lifted her shoulders as he eased her shirt off. When he looked at her this time, he wasn’t trying to hide the heat in his gaze. The ice blue of his eyes sent a shiver of longing through her. Yet his touch still remained cool, as if he was reining in control, determined not to give in. He was trying to keep this from getting out of hand as much as she was. The thought was almost amusing. Both were too fairy to let the other see too much. There were too many walls and secrets between them…but that would change.

  His hand slid between their bodies and undid her jeans. For the first time she missed the dresses of Annwyn. As her lips found his and she claimed his mouth, her hands slid lower to claim the rest of him. The hard ridge of his erection pressed against his jeans. Her mouth curved in a small smile as she took a little pride in the knowledge that she’d had that effect on him without even trying.

  No, they didn’t need to trust, or even like each other to have sex and enjoy it. Unlike mortals, fairies knew the difference between love and lust. One was dangerous and the other more so. Sex in Annwyn was something to trade as well as a way to have fun.

  Today was a little of both even though it shouldn’t have been. This shouldn’t be fun, or exciting. That her body responded too easily to his touch was as concerning as it was pleasurable. Why shouldn’t she find something to enjoy while stuck here?

  She opened up the fly of his jeans and pushed them down, along with his briefs, with a desperation that wasn’t all faked.

  Don’t get caught up.

  But she wasn’t listening to her own warnings. Her fingers closed around the hard flesh of his shaft and stroked. He groaned, a small noise that remained locked in his throat, as if he didn’t dare let it out.

  Oh he would, before she was done with him.

  Darah released him and pushed him onto his back, and he went willingly. Then she shucked her jeans and dragged his off, leaving their clothes in a pile on the floor. Naked, she crawled over him.

  She kissed a scar on his calf, then one on his thigh. He was scarred all over. Fairies didn’t scar, once the wound was healed there was no trace. His scars were o
ld, full of stories about his life. His shaft lay thick and hard in front of her. For a heartbeat she deliberated what to do. What she wanted warred with what she should do. No, she had to give him something to come back for. Offer a hint of what else she could do for him, to him.

  Her breath whispered over his shaft and then she moved on, licked his belly and then one nipple. There were other scars on his ribs. She’d love to know how he’d gotten them all—obviously his life hadn’t all been casinos and luxury. Another time…

  If they had time.

  He drew her closer, and cupped her breasts. His thumbs brushed over her nipples and sent jolts of pleasure deep into her belly. Then his hands moved lower, over her ribs, down to her hips. His fingers kneaded her butt, drawing her down until his shaft was nestled against her. He was hot against the slickness of her sex and she couldn’t help but move against him. A shiver traced over her skin.

  It had definitely been too long.

  She wanted to feel him within her, but if she rushed would he want more?

  This wasn’t just about what she wanted and needed, this was about doing her job. One of his hands slid over her thigh and dipped between her legs.

  He smiled as his fingers teased. “When did you decide that you wanted this?”

  “Before I kissed you.” And not just because she wanted information. She wanted to indulge in the lust that existed between them. It was something she couldn’t do in Annwyn. As he touched her, she realized that too many of her encounters had been cool and calculated. Had she been missing out by playing it safe?

  “Hmm.” He circled the sensitive little bud. “Do you slum it with mortal men often?”

  She shook her head, the ends of her hair sweeping over her shoulder. “No. I rarely leave Annwyn.” Another mistake? Fairies who wanted to revel in desire often did so across the veil. As one of Eyra’s ladies, she hadn’t had that luxury. “Besides, you aren’t mortal.”

  “I am once a year.” His face became unreadable again, all emotion shut down.

  She wanted to know more about that too, but she bit her tongue. She was going to lose him if she didn’t act. They weren’t close enough for honest conversation, yet. They’d get there. She rolled her hips. “Do you often sleep with fairies?”