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

by Shona Husk

  He’d awoken a hunger in her. One that wanted to rake its nails down his back just to hear him growl.

  The memory made her skin hot. She was used to tamed desire and careful lust. Making the right moves to elicit a response. Not something wild and incautious. Something that lived only for passion’s sake.

  Darah was pretty sure that when Felan had told fairies to cross the veil and rediscover their hearts, he hadn’t meant that. Or had he? There was nothing wrong with keeping face and scheming your way to the top. A fairy that didn’t mask their true desires was one that would be used and thrown away.

  Which was why Henry was never going to learn how much she liked being with him. While he might be fairy in his desire for power, he wasn’t a fairy in bed.

  Her heart gave an excited flutter, but she took several deep breaths and got herself under control. She was a Court fairy and she knew better. Henry was a means to an end. She walked through the dark room and rummaged through her small bag until she found the cell phone.

  The Queen, Jacqui, had explained it to her. The Lady of the Hunt also had one, as did Verden and Taryn. Jacqui thought it essential that fairies get used to modern technology and start using it to their advantage.

  While fairies could keep track of things through the mirrors in the Hall of Mirrors, the production of magical items and the exploration of possibilities had stalled as people had jostled for power.

  She frowned at the phone in her hand. It didn’t look or feel like anything special, but then often the most powerful artifacts didn’t. Had the power plays really damaged Annwyn’s potential? She wasn’t old enough to remember. Her mother would’ve, but she was dead. It was in her memory that Darah strove to get on the Council, to erase the drifter heritage that was attached to her name. Drifters were little better than Greys. They didn’t even have the honor to serve as Brownies, keeping house for changelings; they simply served themselves.

  She wasn’t using Henry for her own desires. It was work. But as she turned the phone on and typed a message to Dylis, the Lady of the Hunt. The coveted Council position lost its shine.

  When’s a good time to catch up?

  It was vague enough that should anyone find her phone they wouldn’t immediately jump to the conclusion that she was passing on information.

  Henry might be a darkling but he wasn’t bad, or dangerous. She wasn’t even sure that the Greys he was surrounded by were more dangerous than any other fairy.

  That wasn’t her decision to make.

  She pressed send. If Dylis was on the other side of the veil, there would be no response. That didn’t stop her from holding the phone too tightly and staring at the blank screen. Her stomach rolled like the river of the damned had during the middle of winter.

  Was it guilt? Did fairies even feel guilt? No. It was nerves. What if this mortal technology didn’t work? Yes, that’s all it was.

  She didn’t feel anything for the darkling. Those words could never leave her lips, as they would be an absolute lie. Being with Henry was making her question everything she knew. And she didn’t like it. She had to keep focused on what she wanted. What she’d been working towards since she’d married Shea.

  She could do this job. There were fewer vipers here than there had been around the old Queen, may she find no rest in the river of the damned.

  The phone buzzed. Not with a message, though. The Hunter was calling.

  Chapter 11

  The number of volunteers working the garden had doubled today. Word was spreading—hopefully not to the wrong ears. It also looked as though all eight houses were now suddenly occupied. That was good as it meant that people would be protective of their garden.

  Henry let a smile form. He’d have to set up another. Have community gardens dotted all over the place. The humans would see him as the good guy, the one who wanted to help. And when it came time to get rid of the Mayor they would be right behind him. Hopefully they’d also start spending money in his businesses—once he bought more. Of course once he bought more he’d be able to employ some of them. Something he’d already lamented not being able to do.

  Private investment was the only way to get the city going…this was definitely a long term project. But he didn’t mind. In a hundred years’ time he’d be able to check back in and admire his handy work and listen to how Henry Saint had rebuilt Detroit after the Great Plagues.

  He liked the sound of that. Usually his plans weren’t as long term. However the idea that he could let something unfold over a decade or three or five…that was tempting. He didn’t have to live year to year just because had had a condition. He knew the treatment and the cost. If he was giving back then surely that was more worthwhile than the life of a thug—who had most likely killed too.

  He planted the cabbage seeds, shoving them into the dirt. Did fairies ever think of ethics or did they all assume they were right and better than mere humans? Was he a mere human?

  Darah had likened him to a fairy.

  He still wasn’t sure that was a good thing after hearing about her life with Shea—or the bits she’d chosen to share. Life in Annwyn seemed cold and unforgiving.

  Henry smoothed over the soil. None of these crops would be ready for months, but at least as autumn turned to winter there would be food, even if it was boring fare like carrots, beans and beets. Once he’d have traded just about anything for such luxury. Even as a street kid he’d had some standards, although he had thought twice about going with that fancy toff who’d offered a handful off coins. However there’d been a glint in the man’s eyes and his tongue had kept sliding over his lips in a way that had set Henry’s teeth on edge. Later he’d realized that boys who went with that man were never seen again, he’d also realized what it was the man was offering to pay for.

  He shuddered despite the sun on his back. Few memories still had the power to draw a reaction. A shadow fell across the soil. He glanced up, and even though the sun was behind her he recognized Darah. She offered him a glass of water, which he gratefully took as he stood.

  For a moment he felt every one of his hundred and thirty two years He hadn’t done manual labor in a very long time. He took a moment to glance around the garden at the people working and setting up the garden beds. The cows were tethered. First thing this morning they’d been milked and he’d delivered it to the man and his wife who ran the soup café from their home—he assumed it was theirs; they could be squatters for all he knew.

  Their gratitude had been almost embarrassing.

  Had he been like that once? Grateful for every handout that came his way? He knew he must have been. Unlike humans, he had the time to climb higher and want more. For many this was it. He was giving them a chance, and he might be the only person who’d ever done that.

  So it wasn’t increasing his bank balance, but it felt better. For the longest time he’d been so concerned with helping himself that he’d forgotten what it was like to help others…even if helping them was a step in his greater plan.

  “You look pleased with yourself.” Darah brushed a strand of hair from her face, leaving another dirty smudge on her cheek. Her golden skin glistened with sweat. Like everyone else here she was helping. He’d expected her to be hanging back and keeping her hands clean.

  Instead she was as dirty as everyone else. And last night’s awkwardness seemed to have evaporated in the sun. He’d woken when she’d eased out of bed, but he hadn’t asked her to stay. He’d feigned sleep and let her leave. If she didn’t want to be there, he wasn’t going to beg.

  He’d vowed never to beg again.

  No matter how much he wanted her, she wasn’t his.

  No matter how much she helped, she wasn’t on his side.

  No matter much she looked as though she belonged, she didn’t.

  He couldn’t forget that, no matter how addictive her kiss. He was the one with the problem, not her.

  “I am.” He nodded and glanced around again. It was coming together better than he’d hoped, but doubts s
till lingered. “I hope this time it works.”

  “You’re setting guards,” she lowered her voice.

  “I have the man power this time.” The extra Greys were actually becoming a bonus. He’d sent some on missions to gather more supplies from further afield. He’d also sent Lord Weylin off on an errand of no consequence. If he never came back, it was no loss. But the Greys they were almost eager to serve and gain Henry’s favor.

  Penn was now warning him that he needed a formal council and that the voting on decisions had to stop. Had Penn and Darah gotten together, or had they reached the same conclusion based on their experiences in Annwyn?

  The Greys might be banished but they were still fairies at heart. He couldn’t treat lions like kittens even if they seemed tame.

  Darah nodded. “And not just Greys.”

  She was frowning as if she didn’t understand why people were helping. He wasn’t going to explain what it was like to have nothing. In the same way he could imagine what Annwyn was like from what he’d heard. She would never fully understand. She’d nod her head and make a sympathetic noise while wondering what it meant to be so hungry you were sure that you had forgotten how to eat. Then to eat and make yourself sick.

  They were literally from two different worlds.

  “I’m going to send Penn out to look for another suitable location.”

  “Why not make this one bigger?”

  “It’ll draw attention.” Although if the Mayor and his buddies destroyed another garden perhaps the people would rise up.

  “Too many people know about this to keep it a secret.” Her voice was soft but the warning was clear.

  “It’s not meant to be a secret. I want the idea to spread, for people to start their own community garden. Get people working together instead of stealing what they need.” At the moment the city, like most, was too fractured and hurt to heal. While this was small, not even a bandage, it was something. He knew from experience that these things eventually snowballed once they got going. It was the getting going that was hard. It was like pushing shit up hill, only to have it roll back down leaving you covered in muck. Most people gave up then. But once you were already dirty might you as well get back into it as there was nothing left to lose.

  He glanced at Darah. He had everything to lose depending on what she was telling the King. He had another drink of water and considered her for a moment as he pondered if it was worth asking. He was feeling a little reckless, everything else was going well.

  “So, how is my report card? Will I pass Annwyn’s tests?”

  Her face blanched, even though her smile remained fixed. He sipped his water and pretended not to notice the knife sliding between his ribs. She’d already made a report to Annwyn. Before or after they’d spent the evening together?

  The stone and gold dice in his pocket became heavy. If he were to gamble on that, he’d say after…that was why she’d slunk out of his room and why she’d been cool this morning.

  “You overestimate my position. I am the messenger and nothing more.”

  The warmth had gone out of the sun. And Darah was drawing away again, the ice around her was thickening. He wished he hadn’t said anything and yet he needed to know how he was being judged across the veil.

  “I don’t intend to shoot the messenger. There are other things I’d rather do.” He lifted his hand and let the back of his hand—the cleanest part of his hand—brush her cheek. He shouldn’t be touching her he should be pulling away, but at least this way she saw the whole picture and her report would be fair…fairer.

  Her turquoise eyes were unreadable. “Why don’t you hate me?”

  “You’re doing your job.” He shrugged. A part of him was surprised it had taken Annwyn this long to catch up with him. Part of him was annoyed by the intrusion and that the King had chosen to spy instead of speak to him directly. The rest of him was rather happy that he was getting to spend some time with someone who he couldn’t accidentally kill. It was not a bad trade and he admired her loyalty to the King.

  He’d never had that kind of loyalty to anyone, except himself. And while he didn’t trust her motives, he appreciated her work. She was helping if only so she could make a better report. He wasn’t exactly losing and Annwyn may decide he wasn’t worth the trouble. That was the best outcome he could see.

  “I told them you are helping the humans and keeping the Greys under control.” She didn’t meet his gaze as she spoke, too busy picking dirt from under nail.

  “The truth then.” But of course she wouldn’t lie. Fairies didn’t, but they left out pieces and cut very close to the definition of a lie.

  She nodded.

  That was good and he didn’t think she’d paint him in a bad light the way Lord Weylin would if asked. “Next time you report in tell your King that if he is that curious he should come and see for himself.”

  She laughed. ‘He would never put himself at risk by coming to a Grey stronghold.”

  Henry’s gaze sharpened. Was that how she really saw his casino? “Stronghold is a hard word. We are a loose gathering of likeminded fairies.”

  Darah looked at him for a moment, then stepped closer. She leaned in as if to kiss him but instead her lips brushed his ear. “You are becoming their ruler, their King. This is their Court. Be aware of what you are creating.” The warmth of her breath on his skin betrayed the cold threat of her words. She drew back and smiled. “Shall I take your glass?”

  He handed the empty glass back. Was that a warning direct from Annwyn or from Darah because she could see both sides of the fence?

  She walked away before he could ask. Was he setting up a castle and court with himself as king? Is that what all the Greys saw, what Weylin had seen immediately and resented?

  Henry wiped his hands on his jeans. Around him people talked and kids helped their parents. It was a happy scene that was reminiscent of times long gone. He was going to have to choose; become their leader or let anarchy descend among the Greys as they all fought it out for top position. He’d seen it happen before. Even in a small group of five or six.

  While he didn’t want to be Lord of the Greys in greater Detroit—even though it had a nice ring to it that brought a wary smile to his lips—that was the role that would suit his greater purpose.

  Declaring himself King of the Greys was probably the move that Annwyn was waiting for. He needed to speak to Penn and Marlis.

  He was also hoping that Zaly would make a status update on the darkling child soon. Hopefully the mother would return of her own accord, hopefully Peri didn’t accidentally kill her mother. The child was old enough to remember that. At least Peri would have memories of her mother. He had nothing.

  Not wanting to dwell on a past he couldn’t change, and didn’t want to think about, he threw himself into planting bean seeds and setting up the wires for them to climb. By late afternoon the only thing left to do was stand back and admire their achievements.

  He accepted the thanks of the people who were now occupying the surrounding houses, took Darah by the hand and left them to their new community garden, hidden from the prying eyes and grasping hands of the Mayor. The Greys he left on guard duty. If there was any interference he’d be alerted and he was sure that the Greys would have a fine time chasing off any would be trouble makers.

  Darah didn’t release his hand as they headed back to the casino. It was beginning to feel like the perfect end to a day where he had actually accomplished something and had once again started pursuing his goal, even if it was one tiny step at a time.

  “Thank you for your help today.” He smiled at her. Bet she’d never worked that hard in Annwyn.

  She shrugged. “I enjoyed it. It’s interesting being around mortals.”

  That was one way of putting it, but he already knew that she wasn’t helping because she thought the people deserved help.

  Conversation dried up. Aside from spying and sex they didn’t have much to talk about. That was partly his fault because he hadn’t
made much of an effort. “Perhaps you could tell me some more about Annwyn some time?”

  “Like what? I’m sure Marlis and Penn had told you what’s important.”

  He gritted his teeth. She didn’t make it easy to get to know her. “I want to know what you think is important, about your life there.” Her husband had only been a tiny part of that.

  “Oh.” They walked several paces. “Maybe tonight.” She flicked him a smile that no doubt had the power to make mortal men weak at the knees. He merely got hard.

  “We could share a shower and have fun getting clean.”

  Her smile vanished. “Under running water?”

  Damn, he’d forgotten about that. Marlis had mentioned it once. Something about water being toxic or bad in Annwyn, especially moving water.

  “Bath?” But the moment was gone and they were back to being silent strangers. Even her grip on his hand seemed to have lost some of its warmth.

  About half way home he became aware they were being followed. At first he thought he was being overly sensitive, or that it was just kids. But when he glanced behind him it wasn’t. Only about twenty yards back were two cops. “You might want to vanish from sight when we turn the corner.”

  Darah glanced at him and was about to turn around, but he stopped her by slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her close.

  “Just keep walking and drop the glamour that lets them see you, okay?” he said close enough to her ear that the two cops watching would think they were lovers sharing secrets…that wasn’t far from the truth. Except it was more like keeping secrets than sharing.

  “You’re expecting trouble.” Darah was tense next to him.

  “They are the same cops who came to the casino.” Which meant they were in deep with the Mayor.

  “I’ll just convince them to leave again.”

  Henry shook his head. “I want to hear what they want to say. Not everything can be solved with magic, Darah.”