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

Page 13

by Shona Husk


  And glamouring humans, while useful, didn’t feel quite right. It felt like cheating. Plus he didn’t want to be beholden to Annwyn for anything. This was his town and he was going to do it right and without Annwyn interfering.

  The men were getting faster, Henry slowed. As they turned the corner he released Darah’s hand. She shimmered for a moment, but he could still see her. Then the cops rounded the corner. They looked surprised to see him alone.

  “Where’s your girl?”

  “I was just walking her home.” He indicated to the building. For all the cops knew Darah did live in this apartment complex.

  “Had a busy day?”

  “I was helping some friends.” He smiled, but it was cool and impersonal. “I’d like to head home for a shower.”

  Henry could tell from their stance that he wasn’t going to be heading home without a fight. Fine, bring it. The tiredness he’d felt sloughed away as adrenaline kicked in. Darah stood against the wall, watching. But he didn’t look in her direction. He had to act as though he was alone.

  “Boss wants a word with you.” The thin cop, with a nose that must turn the corner before he did, grinned.

  “How about after I shower?” If he was meeting the Mayor, it would be on his terms. When he was clean and dressed for the part. In the past he’d only ever met the Mayor’s second or third in command. It seemed Henry was now considered a big enough threat that direct action was required. That actually pleased him. He was getting noticed and causing trouble for the corrupt official and his bully boys in black.

  “How about now?” The taller, more solid one pulled a gun and pointed it at Henry.

  Henry hated guns, mostly because he hated getting shot. While he could heal himself, the scars didn’t vanish. Today was going to add to his collection.

  Darah lifted a hand as if to say, “Now can I help?”

  He gave a very small shake of his head. A meeting with the Mayor was what he wanted just not like this.

  The man with the gun realized something was going on and fired twice. The first one missed. The second one hit Henry’s leg. It took a moment for the burn and then the pain to register and by that point both of the cops were moving in.

  “Shouldn’t have resisted arrest.”

  “Arrest?” Henry clutched at his thigh trying to step the blood. Would they notice it was the wrong color? He drew in several heavy breaths that did nothing to alleviate the pain. “We were talking.”

  “I got bored. Boss wanted you alive, be grateful.” The heavy set cop grabbed Henry by the arm to haul him upright.

  Henry let him, he feigned a stumble and kissed the man. It didn’t take much. As soon as their lips connected the man’s soul started moving. He went still, then dead. The extra soul was used up fast healing the wound. He had the uncomfortable sensation of metal wiggling free of his leg then it was over.

  Skinny cop came closer to see what the problem was.

  Henry let the body fall to the ground with a heavy, squishy thud. “Tell your boss thank you for his invitation; I’ll take him up on it.”

  The cop looked at Henry then his buddy. “What did you do?”

  “I don’t like being shot. Be grateful only one bullet hit me or you’d be dead too. Run along.” He glanced at Darah. Her mouth was open and she was staring at the body. She’d seen exactly how deadly his kiss was…he guessed any chance of sex tonight had been blown out of the water.

  The cop hesitated.

  Darah glanced at Henry then the cop. He knew the moment Darah glamoured the man’s mind as his eyes lost focus.

  “I’ll deliver your message.” His words weren’t quite slurred, but they had definitely been forced past unwilling lips.

  “You do that.” Henry shook his leg and the bullet slid out of his jeans and rolled through the black liquid around Henry’s shoe and onto the sidewalk. The new scar tissue pulled uncomfortably. His jeans were ruined.

  Darah didn’t speak for several moments after the cop had left. “Your blood is black.”

  “Yeah. People don’t like that.” Humans liked blood to be red, bright red. That was what they expected when they stabbed or shot him.

  “Why isn’t it blue?” Shock and confusion were etched on her face. This was Darah without the mask.

  “Because I’m not fairy.” And he wasn’t human either. People worked that out fast when they saw his blood. He’d been called a demon more than once.

  She looked at the body again and he could only imagine what was going through her mind. Was Annwyn going to bust him for that?

  “It was self-defense, if the King asks.” Henry pointed at the body. “He shot me and I needed to heal.”

  And now he had an appointment with the Mayor to keep.

  Darah didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to—the revulsion was clear on her face. That stung more than any bullet to the heart.

  Chapter 12

  Darah had never seen anything like it in her entire life—which by mortal standards was very long indeed. She wrapped her arms around herself, still cold despite the hot bath she’d taken as soon as she was back in her room. Knowing that Henry took a soul each year, knowing that he took it with a kiss, was very different to seeing it happen.

  For a moment there had been a sheen in his eyes as if he wasn’t really seeing this world, and his face had been curiously devoid of any emotion or expression, totally blank, not even the carefully arranged expression of mild boredom or amusement that most fairies wore at Court. It was as if for a moment he hadn’t existed. She shivered unable to keep still.

  The cold wasn’t from an imagined chill in the air, it was coming from within her. Had she completely misjudged Henry? Been suckered in by his helping the people, helping the Greys act. Perhaps he was a dangerous killer. A ruthless son of a Grey who should be put down.

  Then she remembered him working in the garden, the sun on his skin making it glisten, his smile as he talked to people. Not one of them realizing they were so close to death.

  She was so tempted to send a message to the Hunter. And say what? That Henry had taken a soul? By fairy law he’d done nothing wrong. It had been self-defense and he’d only done what he’d needed to survive. If he’d killed the second cop, she might have had something to report…but not really.

  If his band of Greys had been running around killing and doing his bidding she could’ve reported that. That there was an escaped fairy horse here wasn’t even cause for concern because Henry held the bridle and kept the kelpie under control.

  He wasn’t putting a foot wrong by Annwyn’s rules.

  No but he was close to the edge.

  And she was supposed to wait for that misstep and report him. She wished she’d never taken this job and that she’d walked away from this loyalty test. A position on Felan’s Council wasn’t worth it. How could she call herself a fairy and think that? Her mother would be horrified.

  Darah wasn’t sure she could sleep with him anymore. His lips…

  Her fingers pressed against her mouth. His kiss had been so good. It had made her blood sing and lust awaken. Shea’s kiss had never done that, but then a political marriage wasn’t one based on desire but mutual goals.

  Darah got up. She couldn’t sit here all night. She left her room not knowing exactly where she was going. Only that she had to do something because sitting still gave her too much time to think about Henry and Felan and everything. At the elevator she hesitated. Up or down. Up to Henry, or down to the Greys. They all hated her, or at least distrusted her. And Henry…after the kill he’d turned away and refused to meet her gaze. Had he been ashamed or embarrassed that she’d seen?

  She drew in a breath and pulled herself together. She had to finish this job or she might find herself living permanently on the wrong side of the veil, exiled or worse.

  She should see Henry. She was used to feigning interest to get a job done. She could force her way through a few more nights. The idea of going to his room was both exciting and terrifying. Toni
ght she’d realized how little she knew about him and his life and what being a darkling meant.

  She pressed the up button and waited.

  The lift doors opened. Marlis leaned against one of the walls. She looked as though a breeze could carry her away.

  “Lady Darah, well met.”

  “Lady Marlis.” Darah had the urge to nod and defer to this woman, but she resisted.

  The door closed and the elevator moved.

  “I haven’t been a Lady in a very long time. Would you be of assistance to an old fairy and walk me to my room, my legs aren’t what they were.” Her body may not be but her eyes were still sharp and so was her mind.

  The elevator chimed. This wasn’t Henry’s floor. But Marlis was part of his informal council as well as ex-lover and to snub her wouldn’t go down well.

  “Certainly.” Darah offered Marlis her arm. This was the closest to a Grey she’d ever been and she didn’t know what to expect.

  Marlis’s hand was as soft as a child’s, but her skin was cold. “Thank you. I don’t think I would’ve done the same if I were in your position.” Then she looked up at Darah with a smile made gruesome by her tissue thin skin. “Or maybe I would’ve.”

  Marlis saw straight through her and any front she had placed up. It was enough to stop Darah’s heart for a moment even though she didn’t break stride or allow her expression to slip.

  “Come in and tell me of Court. Remind a wasting fairy of what it’s like there.” Marlis placed her hand on the door handle.

  Darah hesitated, but spending an evening with Marlis seemed more pleasant that spending it with Henry. She didn’t know what to say to him. She was at a loss for words. That would never do at Court. While the last time she’d spoken to Marlis the Grey’s words had been full of warning, Marlis had done nothing to try and disrupt her work. Nor had she come between Darah and Henry. Darah had no idea what game Marlis was playing, perhaps she could learn more about Henry from his ex-lover.

  “Something happened today. Henry is in a mood and now you are faltering. I have wine and cards. Perhaps you could give me a game of Omission.”

  Homesickness punched Darah in the heart. She hadn’t even been gone that long. Yet it had been a long time since she’d sat and played cards…before she was a shadow. “How long have you been in the mortal world?”

  Marlis opened up her door, her room was decorated in greens and blues. The furniture looked used and comfortable and there was a bowl of fruit on the table. While her room was smaller than Henry’s this looked like home. His had looked serviceable.

  Darah stepped in and shut the door. Marlis moved slowly, but gracefully to the padded chair, before sinking into it. “I was banished one hundred years ago. I am old for a Grey. My body is tired. Every day I get a little smaller as I try to hold on. Does my admission shock you?”

  Darah realized she hadn’t moved and she was staring. “You are admitting weakness.”

  No one ever did that unless they thought it would gain them sympathy or more. Usually it resulted in a sneer.

  “It is not the end as Eyra would have had you believe. I hear the bitch Queen tried to cheat fate.”

  Darah nodded. News from Annwyn crossed the veil more readily than she’d thought. “She tried to cut her throat instead of drowning in the river of the damned.”

  “She could hand it out but never take it. Some things never change. Pour wine and shuffle the cards. It has been a long time since I was able to get news direct from Court...don’t even think about denying. I know you aren’t exiled. Clever that you let people assume and never corrected.”

  Darah did as she was asked, partly because it was rude to not assist a wasting fairy and ruder still to draw attention to their growing weakness. In Annwyn no one aged, but at some point there seemed less of them until one day they just didn’t wake up. Lords and Ladies received a mock battle in their honor then they were laid out in the forest. By morning they were gone and a tree was sprouting in their place. What would happen to Marlis?

  “What happens to fairies here?”

  “We waste and die the same. I’m not afraid. I am tired. My only regret is that I won’t see what Henry builds. He’s finally found a purpose for his life.” She shook her head.

  “You’ve known him a long time.” Darah placed a glass of white wine in Marlis’s hand.

  “We met here. When the city was thriving and I was still beautiful. I chose not to use magic. No one saw me except the occasional changeling. Henry however, he saw me and had no fear.” For a moment Marlis wasn’t in the hotel room, she was decades in the past.

  She tried to see Marlis as she would’ve been before the wasting really took hold. The woman’s long blond hair was drawn back into a bun and held in place with what could be lethal hairpins if she’d had the strength to wield them. In her day she’d have been a great beauty. And Henry would’ve craved the intimacy that he could only get from a fairy. No self-respecting Court fairy would have dropped their standard to bed him.

  Most would’ve been horrified by his lack of restraint. It had excited her. That said more about her than it did him. He didn’t know any better. She should.

  “But the city has changed. I have changed and he has moved on.” Marlis looked at her. For a moment there was something hard in her pale yellow eyes then it was gone and the old fairy sighed. “The past is what it was. How is the new King and his wife?”

  “They are well.”

  Marlis made and sound in the back of her throat and sipped her wine. “Do better, Lady Darah. I know you were married to Shea ap Greely, I know he was as power hungry as they came. If you married him, you must have had goals. Is spying on Henry and reporting back getting you closer?” Marlis narrowed her eyes. “What do you want? What can Court give you that you can get nowhere else?”

  Darah’s cheeks heated. This woman knew far too much. “How do I not know you?”

  “We all have our secrets, dear. I intend to die with mine as everyone else that knew is also dead. Frankly I’m surprised Annwyn hasn’t sent someone to watch Henry before. I’m happy he is getting something out of the transaction. He deserves to find some happiness.”

  Her cheeks were now burning. Marlis knew exactly what was going on and that she was using Henry, and he was using her. She sipped the wine but it did nothing to calm her.

  “Careful, mortal wine is alcoholic. If you aren’t used to it, it will leave you with a loose tongue and a headache.” Marlis drank her wine as if to prove she cared about neither.

  Since Marlis had mentioned Henry that was where Darah was going to steer the conversation. “Henry is interesting…a reluctant leader.”

  “Yet a good one.” Marlis raised one eyebrow as if daring Darah to disagree.

  “It’s a very organized operation.” Was it an army to threaten the throne? Probably not. Was it concerning to have so army Greys banded together? Yes. Yet what he was achieving was amazing. People liked him without him having to use glamours. He had the ability to motivate people with just a smile and a few words.

  She wanted to see what he’d create even though that wasn’t part of her job.

  Marlis nodded. “Deal the cards. We can only play the cards we are given in life.”

  But a fairy could play to win or lose depending on which held the greatest advantage. Darah wasn’t sure which way she wanted to play anymore.

  Chapter 13

  The fresh scar on Henry’s thigh was still pink and shiny, but at least it had stopped throbbing. He tied his shoelaces and made sure that the knife around his ankle was secure. The Mayor would expect him to be armed. Turning up empty handed would arouse suspicion. Then he finished buttoning his shirt. Like anyone, the veins in his wrists were visible. To casual observer they just seemed a little dark. It was only when his blood was spilled that people realized he wasn’t like them.

  The knife fight when he was twelve had been revealing. He’d lost…until the other boy had lost his life. It was then Henry had realized that he
could heal by taking another soul. For a while it had made him fearless. After a while—maybe once he’d hit thirty and realized he wasn’t aging either—he noticed his scares didn’t fade. The redness left, but the marks remained.

  And if he was scarred on the outside, he must be scarred on the inside.

  He’d grown more cautious after that.

  He buttoned up the cuffs, put on a tie and the suit jacket. All he needed was a couple of dice. His finger traced over the dice in the bowl, they glittered with a thousand faces and promises. The ten sided jet one looked like a good one for today—he could do with some extra numbers in his favor. And for luck? The weighted birch. It had once been pale, but repeated handling had given the pale wood a warm sheen. He gave them a test roll. Jet ten, birch three. Lucky thirteen. He dropped them both into his pocket.

  Someone knocked on his door. His heart leapt because there might be a very small chance it was Darah. He shut that down fast. It wouldn’t be. She hadn’t spoken to him since he’d given her his defense for taking a soul and killing. She knew what he was, yet obviously she’d been able to push the reality aside to lie in his bed.

  He touched the desk, the memory was strong enough to heat his blood. With a snarl he strode toward the door. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by pretty things from Annwyn. He opened the door only to find the corridor empty.

  “Henry, sir.”

  He looked down. “Zaly.”

  Was it the child’s birthday already? He knelt down and offered his hand to the Grey. She jumped up and stood on his knee.

  “The child is well. The mother is fretting. Tomorrow is the day.”

  “They are still in the city?”

  Zaly nodded. “They are staying not far from here…I think she might come back when her daughter sickens from soul fever.”

  Soul fever, it’s what he called it. It had a slightly more romantic air than death hunger, or murderous need. Tomorrow the child would start to sicken, the next day she’d die. A year and a day was all the souls lasted. “Can you stay a little longer?”

 

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