by Anya Bast
“Bullshit. It’s not that.” She waved her hand dismissively at Brian Bentley, who was white-knuckling his mic. She muted the sound. “There’s something else going on, and we both know it. First that strange man comes to the house. I know you don’t know any men, Elizabeth, not ones you haven’t told me about. He was handsome and charming, sexier than any man I’ve ever met, actually—except your father. You would have told me about that man. Then there are your disappearances. Those have been very unlike you. Then you convinced me to move—”
“Mom.”
Thea continued, ignoring the interruption. “Why did you want me to move? Why farther into the Boundary Lands? You said it was because of the possibility of this.” She motioned at the muted TV set. “But, please, Elizabeth, tell me the truth. Don’t make me break out the cookies—”
“Mom!”
Thea’s mouth snapped shut.
Elizabeth drew a shaky breath, reached over, and flipped the TV off. Then she folded her hands in her lap and lifted her gaze to her mother’s face. “There is no way in the Netherworld I’m letting you die.”
Her mother looked confused for a moment, then realization dawned slowly over her face. She covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes widening. “No. It can’t be you. Please tell me you didn’t, Elizabeth. Please.”
She only held her gaze, saying with silence what she’d sworn never to tell her with words.
Her mother dropped her hands into her lap, then, after a moment of stunned quiet, reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. “Give them back!”
“No.”
“You can’t do this, Elizabeth. You can’t!”
“I would do anything to protect you. I will not watch you suffer. I will not watch you die.”
Her mother rose, grabbed the remote, and flipped on the TV. She motioned at the screen. “There are people suffering and dying out there. I don’t want that on my hands. Not on my account, Elizabeth. Not on my account!”
Elizabeth stared impassively at the screen, doing her best to school her face and her emotions into a place of numbness. The fae were kicking some ass. At least there was that. “I knew you’d say that, but I won’t lose you like I lost Papa and William.”
Thea stared at her in complete dismay, then sighed and sank back down on the couch beside her. “That day is still fresh in my memory, too.” She hugged herself. “You, coming back to the house. I’ve never seen you look that way, so completely lost. Pale.” She paused. “Like something inside you had died along with them.”
“It did.” Her voice broke.
Her mother hadn’t been there to see them murdered. Only Elizabeth’s ability to travel as water had let her arrive in time. At least she’d been able to say good-bye, although the cost had been high.
She’d found out about the Shadow Guard on their way to intercept her father and brother only at the very last moment. By the time she’d arrived, it had been too late. Her father and brother had been in the forest chopping wood.
The guardsmen had used their own axes on them toward the end.
Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut, pushing away the raw memories that her psyche hadn’t been able to explore at length since the day they’d been burned into her brain. They’d done it slow. The amount of blood had been enormous.…
Hiding behind a tree, she’d tried to look away, tried to leave, to save herself since there was no way she could’ve done anything to save them. But she hadn’t been able to do even so much as glance away from the carnage. It had been as if she’d owed it to her brother and her father to experience every last ounce of pain right along with them. Illogically, she’d thought maybe she could somehow lessen their hurt. As if she could take on a percentage of their suffering by sharing it. They’d known she was there. She’d reached out to them from behind the tree.
And had stayed long after it had been over and the guardsmen had left.
She’d buried their bodies in that clearing, not wanting her mother to see the condition the Shadow Guard had left them in. Then she’d dissolved, made her way back home, and grieved for a million years.
Elizabeth wiped a tear off her cheek, not willing to look at her mother.
Her mother cupped her cheek. “Thank you for loving me so much you can’t let me go, my darling.”
She covered her mother’s hand with her own. “You’re all I have left.”
Her mom shook her head. “You’ll go out into the world. You’ll meet someone, have a family of your own.”
“Stop talking about yourself as if you’re dead.”
“Oh, Elizabeth.” She paused, her voice breaking. Then she leapt to her feet, hands fisted. “I know you don’t want to let me go, but you must, my dear. You must.”
She sat for several long moments, looking down at the floor between her feet. Finally she stood, walked to her mother, and enfolded her in her arms. “I can’t,” she whispered.
Then she turned and walked out of the house.
GIDEON stalked up the steep staircase of the narrow building in the commercial district of Piefferburg City, just on the edge of the ceantar lair, where his men were squatting. The stench of mold and mildew assaulted his nose, making him crankier than usual. Peeling paint from the walls of the constricted space brushed the sleeves of his coat, leaving bits of yellowed white stuck to him. The place had been built for some tiny breed of fae. It annoyed him.
Everything that had happened since he breached the walls of Piefferburg annoyed him.
He flung open the door to the apartment to find the brothers kneeling in various locations around the bare room, on their knees, hands folded in their laps, brown cowls drawn over their heads hiding their faces. Gideon knew their eyes were closed; they were buried deep inside themselves, all of them funneling their meager amount of magick into the hive portion of their collective consciousness that each of the Phaendir could access.
With so few Phaendir here to feed him, it was necessary they concentrate very hard at all times, rising only to eat, drink, and defecate. The nose-wrinkling unwashed smell of them rose up, mixing with the musty scent of dilapidated building. The low hum of their murmuring voices filled the air as they repeated the mantra they used to keep themselves deeply invested in their labor.
Pride swelled in his chest as he looked at them. These were Labrai’s chosen. His men, sworn to serve him, who was Labrai’s Right Hand. His race was truly superior to all others to have such dedicated brothers.
Stepping inside, careful not to disturb them, he made his way through the room to the balcony on the other side. Sliding open the cracked door, he stepped out onto the small deck and grasped the rusty railing. It was close to midnight in the city, but the place was alive with sight and sound. The U.S. military had broken through the gates. They’d come without the use of force, here to subdue and occupy only, but some of the fae had risen up anyway and small skirmishes had broken out here and there.
The red taillights of cars could be seen in a long snakelike tangle through the city as residents fled to the countryside, fearful of violence.
As if they had anywhere to go.
They were trapped in the prison that was Piefferburg. The military let them out of the city, knowing they couldn’t run far. They could flee to the ocean or the northern Boundary Lands, but they weren’t getting through the warding.
He wondered what the Phaendir were doing, those outside the walls, the ones not privy to his plans. Brother Cadwyr had likely taken over and was being every bit as recalcitrant with the government as Gideon had been.
Why didn’t the military just open fire? What sad, strange notions were going through their heads? Compassion? Pity? Why have any for these animals?
He would never understand the human mind, no matter how long he lived among them.
Maybe it was flat out fear. Maybe their orders were to avoid engagement at all costs, hoping the Phaendir would put an end to this uprising so they didn’t have to look like the bad guys. Gideon could only conjecture.
It was crazy to think they were all being foiled by an asrai, one, single, slender redhead with a will of steel.
He would spend the night here, and wait for his unlikely ally to make her appearance in the city two days from now. If he couldn’t get the book and the bosca fadbh by sneaking around, he’d do this the straightforward way. And maybe he wouldn’t even need the book and pieces to defeat the fae. The presence of the military changed the landscape quite a bit.
And he hated subterfuge, anyway.
As much as he loathed the Summer Queen he was curious to see what kind of magick she packed.
He had failed. In so many ways, he had brought this situation on himself. It was time to stop blaming others for his fuck ups and take responsibility. He owed it to his brothers, to his people. Most of all, he owed it to his god. It was time to change tactics.
Oh, yes, the day after tomorrow was going to be a very, very interesting day.
Somewhere below him a window broke. Somewhere down the street a car alarm blared, people yelled, and horns honked. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. Ah, the sweet sounds of chaos.
He felt certain he could make more.
Turning, he reentered the apartment and sought his cat-o’-nine-tails, hidden in the closet of one of the bedrooms. Sinking down in the center of a group of rocking, murmuring Phaendir, he pulled off his coat and yanked his shirt over his head. Then, cock hard as a rock, the way it always was when he did his devotions, he picked up his cat and swung it in an arc over his head. The first lash didn’t penetrate the scar tissue, and his erection flagged. Putting all his considerable strength into it, he swung it harder.
His back snapped, bowing in, and he gave a shivering gasp of mingled pain and pleasure as the ends of his beloved cat ripped through flesh and delicious pain flared through his body. The warm rush of blood trickled down his skin. Smiling, he brought the cat down again and then again. His hard prick throbbed.
Praise be to Labrai.
SEVENTEEN
THERE were soldiers instead of goblins on either side of the doors of the Black Tower.
Liam approached them cautiously, hoping like hell they weren’t going to detain him. It seemed like everywhere in the city the human soldiers just stood. Guarding. Occupying.
Waiting.
Waiting for what Liam had no idea. The good news was that they didn’t appear to have orders to shoot, or imprison. Just to stand with their rifles at the ready. They talked to no one and moved for no one.
He entered the building with no trouble and made his way through the throng in the main foyer. He needed to see the Shadow Queen. He needed that book, needed the pieces. The situation was getting desperate now, and he was ready to take some chances. He had no time to lose, no time left to play with that fucking asrai.
He’d shown mercy and he’d paid the price. As much as he hated to admit it, he should have listened to Gideon. He should have whipped the bitch bloody instead of feeling all warm and kindred.
She wanted to protect her mother, yeah, well, he had people to protect, too.
Now his plan was to get to the Shadow Queen and reveal all he could about Gideon’s plan without telling her who he really was. He’d say he’d been working on his own to find Elizabeth and had run across Gideon somehow, learned of his plan. Hopefully that would earn him some brownie points. Maybe she would let him close to her.
Maybe he could get close enough to snag something of value.
It was a long shot, but it was the only shot he had right now.
Aideen. The vision of her lovely green eyes and her long blond hair never left his mind’s eye. His heart ached constantly from his separation from her.
Pushing past a gaggle of Seelie, he made his way down the corridor to Aislinn’s receiving chamber. Once there, he argued with the guards to be let into the room until Gabriel stuck his head out to quiet the commotion and invited him in.
“Queen Aislinn,” Liam said in a loud, clear voice.
She turned from where she stood on the opposite side of the room, talking with another woman. Frowning, she tilted her head to side. “Liam, right?”
He nodded. “You need to know that the archdirector of the Phaendir is in Piefferburg City even as we speak and plans an assault on the Black Tower two days from now for the Book of Bindings.”
Saying nothing, she stepped toward him. “How do you know that?”
The dark-haired woman who had been talking with Aislinn had been staring hard at him. For the first time since he’d walked into the room, he gave her his full attention.
Oh, shit.
Charlotte Bennett, the nearly full-blooded human woman he’d fought with in Ireland the year before, the only person in the whole of Piefferburg who could identify him, narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth.…
He turned and ran for the door.
“Stop him!” Charlotte yelled.
The guards on either side of the door grabbed him immediately. Liam fought them, kicking and pulling, but the Shadow Guard were about as big as he was and he couldn’t fight off two of them at once. Holding him by the upper arms, they turned him to face the queen.
Ah, Aideen, I’m sorry.
The time to lie was past. It would be better for him if he told the truth.
“Everything I just said is true. I know all of that because I’m a free fae and have been working with Gideon Amberdoyal,” he said before Charlotte could speak.
“Guards! Restrain his magick,” commanded the queen without missing a heartbeat. Two more Shadow Guards by the entrance immediately moved to him and cuffed his hands behind his back in charmed iron. His power disappeared right away, leaving him feeling weak.
Charlotte pointed at him. “He’s one of the fae that met me and David Sullivan at the Stone of Destiny. He tried to kill me to prevent me taking the pieces. He did kill Calum, a good man whose soul is now waiting for the Wild Hunt beyond the walls of Piefferburg.”
True, all. He’d stabbed Calum in the sternum. He remembered it vividly.
The Shadow Queen peered at him like someone trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle. “Why are you here?”
“To warn you. I had every intention of telling you who I was before I saw her.” Lie. He jerked his chin at Charlotte. He didn’t bother to dampen his accent now. “I came to warn you that Gideon is working with the Summer Queen and they plan to attack the Black Tower.”
Queen Aislinn’s skirts rustled as she moved toward him. “And we’re supposed to believe you? You and your free fae have been working to keep the walls up. You haven’t done anything that hasn’t benefited yourself since we first learned of you. Why tell us about Gideon’s plan? What do you get out of it?”
“Gideon wants the pieces and the Book of Bindings. Once he gets them he can’t be trusted not to use whatever is in the back of the book for his own purposes.”
“Yet you were working with him.”
“I never intended to allow him unfettered access to the book. I was only working with him to prevent the walls from falling.” He leveled his stare at the queen. “But now I’ve been separated from him, which means I can’t stop him once he gets the book.”
“You mean you can’t steal the book from him when the time comes.”
He grinned. “Something like that.”
“Do you really think you could have stolen the book from him in the first place? He’s the archdirector of the Phaendir, powered by their hive magick.”
He shrugged. “I would have done my best. I want the walls up and the fae behind them, specifically the Wild Hunt. I don’t want the fae dead.”
Just then Gabriel Cionaodh Marcus Mac Braire, the Queen’s husband and honorary Unseelie King, entered the room. Liam narrowed his eyes. Mounted on his black stallion, Abastor, Gabriel would lead the Wild Hunt to Aide
en and his friends if the walls broke.
The Shadow Queen brought her husband up to speed. Then Gabriel turned toward him, a look of fury on his face. “He’s wasting our time. Throw him in the dungeon.”
The guards immediately began pushing him toward the door. “Wait!” he called over his shoulder. “I can help you!”
The Shadow Queen gazed at him coolly. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Like I said, I don’t want the Phaendir to have the book any more than you do. I have spent time with Gideon. I know how his mind works and what his magick is capable of. I can let you know what to expect from him when he attacks.”
“How can we trust you?”
“After all I’ve done, you can’t trust me. Not really.” He grinned. “But I’m all you’ve got.”
She stared at him, jaw tight. Finally she said, “We still don’t need your help, Liam. Gideon isn’t getting the book. Not in this lifetime. Guards, take him away.”
Aislinn turned away from him, and the picture of Aideen he held in his mind’s eye transformed to blood.
ELIZABETH scrabbled in the dirt, her fingernails breaking on the hard packed earth. When she’d knelt to check on the pieces, she’d had the eerie sense the ground had been disturbed, but she’d brushed the suspicion aside and blamed paranoia.
Apparently there was something to her paranoia.
A cold endless pit in the center of her stomach, she rocked back on her heels, staring at the hole and the dirt coating her fingers. “Not here,” she whispered, her heart pounding. “How can they not be here?”
Even though she knew someone had dug them up and they were gone, she dug a hole about three feet in diameter anyway, hoping, that by some miracle, she was wrong about their exact placement at the base of the tree.
She looked around to orient herself—boulder to the left of her, oak and an elm to her right, berry bush right there.…
No, she had the right location.
And, now, looking around her, she saw that this wasn’t the only place in the clearing where the ground had been disturbed. Someone had come here and dug at the bases of all the trees and had moved rocks, too.
