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

by Shona Husk

  “You’re creating a Court.” Weylin said as though already contemplating a way to latch onto power.

  “No, I’m creating a way for us to live and thrive among the mortals.” Henry walked out of the bar, effectively dismissing everyone in the room.

  Kaid and Weylin had a few words. Darah suspected that by morning Weylin would either be gone or dead. She didn’t feel any pity for him. He had behaved poorly for someone who had been schooled in the ways of Court.

  Despite Henry’s denial, he was creating a Court for the banished, and while his intentions seemed true, he was amassing more Greys to his side. King Felan wouldn’t like that. No one in Annwyn would, as they all believed that Greys meant trouble…but what if they didn’t mean trouble? What if they were doing something positive?

  What was she going to tell the Hunter when she made her report?

  She didn’t want to bring Henry’s plans tumbling down, because she wanted to see how far he’d take them. She wanted to be a part of them instead of just watching.

  For too long she’d been the spy, living her life for someone else’s desires. It was time she got to explore her own desires.

  Henry knew he had crossed the line and was in way over his head. There were far too many Greys in Detroit now. Somehow they knew where to find him, had they heard about what he was doing.

  It was unsettling. He stalked into the elevator, pressed the button with more force than needed and pulled off his tie.

  No one had followed him. He wasn’t in the mood for any more talk. Had he said the right things? Or was Lord Weylin now trying to convince them all that he was a far better leader? He knew nothing about the man, and yet it was enough to hate him. The smug attitude that he was better than them all…Henry was willing to bet that Darah would know who Weylin was. Perhaps he was also a spy sent from Court in case she failed.

  The elevator doors opened and he strode down the hallway to his room. He swiped his way in to what had once been the penthouse suit and slid the card into the slot so a couple of soft lights came on and gave the room a warm glow.

  It was deathly quiet. And he was alone. Usually he liked the end of the day when he was able to be by himself. No Greys and no one to take care of. Now he had to think about Peri, and the pregnant banished fairy. How many darklings in one city were too many? He suspected the humans would say even one was too many.

  He tossed his tie onto the large desk and then added his suit jacket to the pile, the two dice he’d had in his pocked rolled out. Double six, roll again. He smiled. His game wasn’t over yet. He ached all over from today’s efforts. While grubbing about in the dirt wasn’t in his overall plan, he needed to cross off these preliminary steps. The recovery from the plagues wasn’t going to happen fast. He should know that. He’d lived through the Spanish flu, and through the Great Depression and now what was known as the Unprecedented Pandemic of the century.

  The only thing that was different this time was that he had more money to play with, having made good decisions after the previous two events. More money meant more risk…maybe too much.

  On the desk was his bowl of dice. He trailed his fingers over their corners, then picked up a handful and let them scatter over the desk. Some caught the light and glittered, others looked no different. He picked up the one made of stone. It was larger than the others and well worn, the corners smooth. It had a nice weight, a solemn weight. He held it in his hand and looked at the others. He should choose another one ready for tomorrow.

  Wood seemed too plain, the gems too gaudy, the bone too stark.

  He couldn’t decide.

  Someone knocked on his door.

  He was half tempted to ignore them. If it was Kaid, Penn, or Marlis they’d leave, or tell him to open up if it was urgent. He waited. The person knocked again. He slid open the desk drawer and picked up the letter opener. It had a lovely walnut handle and an iron blade. When dealing with fairies, it was always best to take some precautions.

  With the weapon in hand he silently crossed the carpet and looked through the peephole. If someone was really trying to get to him, a flimsy hotel door wouldn’t stop them. He’d learned that lesson a century ago when doors had been much sturdier.

  Darah stood on the other side, waiting almost patiently. The way her gaze flicked down the hallway and back to his door betrayed her nerves. However she looked immaculate as usual, even after a day with Kaid. He needed to talk to his assassin to see what had transpired, but right now that could wait. Darah no doubt wanted to pump him for information on his plans. She glanced down the hallway again. Her lips pressed together and a small frown forming.

  There were worse ways to spend an evening than with Darah using sex to get to him. He’d enjoyed their last encounter, and not just because he could actually kiss her.

  He slid the letter opener into his pocket and opened the door. The worry left her face immediately and was replaced with the carefully constructed almost blank expression. She let just enough lust show in her eyes and the curve of her lips. Court must be a bitch of a place to live if even your expression could be used against you. He’d liked seeing the worry on her face, the same way he’d liked seeing the ecstasy—although that too had been quickly masked, as if she’d been afraid to let him see the effect he had on her.

  “I was beginning to think you weren’t here.” She met and held his gaze as if daring him to lie.

  “How did you get my room number?” It wasn’t something he handed out freely.

  “I asked Marlis,” Darah said as if the answer were obvious.

  And of course Marlis had told. Damn her. “I supposed you’d better come in since you’re here.”

  “That would be nice.” She smiled, but again it was calculated. It would be nice to see her unguarded for more than a split second. She brushed past him, her hand touching his for just a moment.

  He knew enough about fairies to know she was here to seduce him. Marlis was no fool, and while she wouldn’t like it, she had been the one to end what they had, in part to save him the trauma of being with her as she wasted. Penn would be concerned and Kaid would disapprove. Kaid already disapproved of Darah, and Weylin he seemed to like even less.

  Good thing they didn’t run his life. He shut the door and put the chain on.

  “Tell me about Weylin.” Henry put the letter opener onto the desk with his dice. There was no point in dancing around what he wanted to know, as Darah could no doubt dance better. An outright question would get him closer to the truth, faster.

  Darah glided around the room as though she were a feather. It was an act she’d had hundreds of years to perfect, but that didn’t stop him from appreciating the sway of her hips. She leaned against the desk and reached out to touch the dice, stopping with only inches to go and glancing at him as if seeking permission. He gave a small nod, interested to see which one she’d pick up.

  The stone die sat to the side, waiting for a partner.

  She hesitated a moment, then picked up a gold one with diamond markings. It wasn’t the most expensive die but it was the flashiest. He should’ve guessed she’d go for the sparkles. “Real?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fairy gems turn to coal or ash across the veil.” She placed the gold die down, as if it had lost its shine.

  “These are all mortal made.” He had no use for fairy treasures. They never lasted and they cost far too much to get. Was Darah another fairy treasure he couldn’t afford to keep?

  He didn’t want to keep her, though. What they had was temporary…and she still hadn’t answered his question. “Weylin?”

  “Was one of Sulia’s supporters. Felan exiled all of them.” Her gaze remained on his dice.

  Henry grunted. “Kind of him.”

  She nodded. “It was.”

  He hadn’t been serious, but she was. She considered exile kindness. Maybe it was. They could’ve been banished or killed for treason, he supposed. “And now I get to deal with the fallout.”

  Darah tilted her
head a fraction. “I think you dealt with it very well.”

  Did she now? Was than an honest appraisal or just what she thought he wanted to hear? “He’s trouble.”

  “He resents the drop in status and wants the power you have.”

  He’d already worked that out. It was hardly news that a fairy wanted power. “He wants to rule the Greys?”

  “Don’t you?” The gleam in her eye was like the warning creak the ice on a frozen river gave before breaking.

  “No.” Ruling anyone had never been part of any plan he’d ever entertained over the last hundred and thirty years.

  “But you want the city.” She stepped closer and started unbuttoning his collar. He could stop her, toss her out and refuse to answer her questions. But unlike everyone else, she wasn’t invested in his schemes. He didn’t owe her anything.

  “I want the city, you know that.”

  She kissed the hollow of his throat. “You need people to have a city.”

  He knew that, but Greys were not people. Unless they chose to be seen, humans didn’t even know they were there. Which, for some of the ugly ones, was a blessing. The bogie man and other horrors all had a basis in reality.

  “If you want people here, you have to control the Greys,” she said, echoing the realization he’d had hours before when he’d called the meeting.

  “And the exiled.” How many more would arrive?

  She gave him a tiny smile that was barely more than a twitch of her lips. “You have to rule them.”

  “And that will go over well in Annwyn, won’t it?” He grabbed her hand before she could relieve him of his shirt.

  Her actions felt too much like business. He could pay for that, and had done so when he needed to. With her he wanted more than a careful act designed to please and gain repeat business. He kissed her hard, his other hand spearing through her hair to cradle her head. For half a second she didn’t respond, then her lips moved against his. He released her hand and tugged her hips close so she could feel what she did to him by walking in the room. He was hard. After being too used to tamping down on lust and ignoring what he wanted, it was liberating to revel in it, to give into the desire coursing through his body.

  He wanted her even though she was a traitor and would betray him. He knew that and yet he still drank from her poisoned cup, willingly. More fool him.

  She gasped but didn’t pull away, so he grew bolder. His tongue delved into her mouth, kissing as though he might never get the chance again—which he might not. Her tongue danced with his, cautiously at first, then demanding more. For the moment he could believe that this was more than an act to extract information.

  Later he would probably regret this.

  He undid her jeans and pushed them over her hips, her skin like silk beneath his palms. Smooth and warm. He pushed her panties down in the same move. As his finger eased between her thighs and found her wetness, he moaned. Some things couldn’t be faked. She might have said yes, but her voice was too soft to be sure.

  He wasn’t going to give her a chance to put up the walls and give him the nice façade and fixed expression. He lifted her up and sat her on the desk before undoing his pants. She helped, her hands getting in the way in the race to free his shaft. Then her hands were on him her golden brown fingers around his aching cock. Usually he went months without. It had only been a day and he was acting as though it had been years.

  Darah was his drug of choice.

  Her caress became calmer and more constrained, precise, as if designed for maximum pleasure…it worked, but it also cut, as it meant that she was slipping back into what she thought was expected.

  “Stop trying to seduce me to get what you need. I just want you.” The words were little more than a growl.

  She glanced up, her eyes wide, lips parted. Surprise? Probably not.

  Had he said too much? Most definitely.

  He dragged her hips closer so she was barely sitting on the desk; her legs were spread, her sex was open to him. Somewhere along the way her jeans had slid all the way off. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer, claiming his mouth. He pressed into her, sinking all the way in in one slow thrust.

  He wasn’t sure who groaned, maybe both of them. He didn’t care as he thrust harder into her. She leaned back a little and he moved with her, not wanting to break the kiss.

  She was wet and tight around him, her hips moving in time. Unlike last time, she wasn’t in control. Dice scattered and rolled onto the floor as she put one hand behind her for support. Her breathing was rough, and the kisses were hungry.

  This had to be real.

  Her responses couldn’t all be clever constructs.

  She moaned as her body tensed, then her climax rippled through her sheath. He kept thrusting, enjoying the feel of her body giving an unschooled reaction, before letting go himself.

  His eyes closed and for a moment he just breathed. The scent of sex and sweat filled the air…along with the more delicate smell of flowers. It took a moment for Henry to realize that was her skin. Is that what Annwyn smelled like? Summer and desire?

  Henry opened his eyes. Her legs were wrapped around his hips and she was balanced with one hand behind her, the other still wrapped in his shirt. His hands were on her hips. His heart was still beating too fast.

  She didn’t seem to be any better off, her breasts lifting with each quick breath. He eased back and helped her sit. She hadn’t released him yet, and he wasn’t in a hurry to pull away. He rested his forehead against hers.

  Darah cupped his jaw with both hands and made him look at her. “In some ways you are just like a Court fairy.”

  “Is that a compliment?” Court fairies seemed to be obsessed with power.

  “Sometimes.” Then she smiled, a proper smile that reached her eyes. “In other ways, you are not. No fairy man would ever let himself be caught in the moment like that.”

  Nor any fairy woman, he was guessing. “They don’t know what they are missing then.”

  Her smile faltered for just a moment, but when it reformed he could see that the mask was back in place, even though she thought he wouldn’t notice. He hadn’t even begun to chip the ice that surrounded her heart.

  He drew away and straightened his clothing. She did the same, but there was a distance between them.

  “Do you not fear getting pregnant by me?”

  She tilted her head as if considering the question.

  “I have a soul after all.” While it was a borrowed soul it could be enough.

  Darah shrugged. “I don’t fear it. Getting pregnant isn’t as easy as mortals make it seem.” Her gaze narrowed as she watched him. “Besides, I am not exiled so any child I have will be born in Annwyn.”

  “A fairy.” That was not as reassuring as she wanted it to sound.

  She nodded. “No one would know it was yours as it would be from my line.”

  Again that wasn’t what he really wanted to hear. He didn’t know what he’d been hoping that she’d say. “Is it possible?”

  “I really don’t know.” She almost frowned. “You were with Marlis?”

  He looked away and studied the dark skyline. There weren’t many streetlights or lit up buildings these days. “And what do I get for revealing part of my life?”

  What had ended up being a painful part of his life. He glanced over his shoulder at her. How badly did she want to know?

  “You have no children even with humans?”

  He shook his head. “Play the game, Darah. If I reveal the scars on my heart, you could at least offer to do the same. Unless you have none?”

  She was silent. “My heart is unscarred. But I can tell you about my husband.”

  “You’re married?” If he’d known that he’d have never fallen into her bed.

  “Was. He’s died after making a bad deal.”

  And his passing had left no scar on her heart. He shouldn’t have been shocked by that realization, but he was. A life without love was a life only half lived. His c
uriosity spiked, he wanted to hear the story of her loveless marriage and her husband’s death. “Shall we have a drink as we remember the past?”

  Darah nodded but she looked fragile as though she had offered too much of herself. He wanted to hold her and reassure her, but he wasn’t sure what was a game and what was truth.

  It was after midnight when Darah slipped from Henry’s room and made her way back down to hers. The hotel was almost silent around her. Once again she felt like a shadow servant drifting down empty halls waiting for something to happen. Not belonging, but with nowhere to go either. Once again she had to wait to be released from service.

  But when she was in Henry’s arms for a moment she forgot about Annwyn and being on Felan’s Council. All she wanted to do was stay there. For the first time in her life, her lover wasn’t trying to use her or gain leverage.

  Tonight she’d glimpsed a hunger and a need that no fairy man would ever reveal. Verden had been taken down by his love for Taryn. And Felan obviously loved his wife.

  It was different for kings.

  She inserted the card and her room unlocked. It was dark and empty. A shiver swept over her skin. She should’ve stayed with Henry, but after speaking of Shea and Marlis there had been too many ghosts in the room. It had made her realize what had been lacking in her marriage. Henry had loved Marlis and even though she had left him, he had forgiven her. Darah was pretty sure that she’d never forgiven anyone. Certainly not Shea.

  She shut the door and leaned against the cool wood for a moment. A sigh escaped and her shoulders sagged. He knew that she was sleeping with him for information. He’d said it and he didn’t seem to care.

  She wanted him to care.

  She was starting to care. She didn’t like the feeling that was growing. That while he hungered for her kiss, she was pretending it was just business, not pleasure. That was a lie. When he’d lifted her onto the desk and taken her, there’d been an excitement she’d never felt before. While she liked sex, and enjoyed it as much as any fairy…it had been more.