“Wait. Are you threatening me?” I demanded, setting my napkin on the table and making moves to stand.
He laughed, but it was bitter. “No, Maddy. Sit. But that brings up another point. There are consequences for both failure and success.”
I emulated him by arching a brow.
“Fail to succeed and the High Council can order your execution. Succeed and your enemies can order your assassination.”
I started to laugh and then realized he was serious. “Damned either way, huh?”
“Making it out alive will be the truest measure of success you can have.”
I looked down, resettling my napkin in my lap. I didn’t know what to say. It seemed that to say I was a condemned woman would not have conveyed heavily enough the situation. Bahlin mercifully continued, moving my thoughts on to the next point of consideration.
“You’ll have a basic knowledge of fighting skills, and a sort of sixth sense about things, though you’ll always end up backing that intuition with logic. Listen to your gut because, in my experience, it won’t lead you wrong and your head will get there eventually.” He grinned.
My head was spinning and I hadn’t had enough wine to justify the dizziness yet. I intended to rectify that, especially if Bahlin could resolve a hangover as easily as he could a headache. But wine didn’t seem a fast enough solution. Now a tall glass of whisky—that sounded more promising. I waved my hand in a circle indicating he should continue while I contemplated moving the curtain aside to look for our waiter.
“You’ll be in contact with the High Council on a regular basis, which means—”
“That you should have invited me, old chap.” The curtain parted and Tarrek, First Prince of Faerie, stepped through.
Chapter Four
He was even more luscious in person than he had been in my dream. Tarrek wore all black again, and his eyes gleamed an unnatural green in the low light. I realized the color was eating away at the pupil in his eyes as they filled with some sort of light, glowing softly with strong emotion.
Bahlin seemed unimpressed and looked back at me, essentially dismissing Tarrek. “I didn’t know we needed a chaperone for our evening out, Maddy. My most sincere apologies.”
Tarrek’s eyebrows shot halfway up his brow. “Am I interrupting a date?”
“No,” I said at the same time Bahlin said, “Yes.” He glared at me. I glared back.
“We were discussing my role as the potential Niteclif,” I said, assuming that if the guy really was the First Prince of Faerie he would know about my great-granddad.
“Ah, yes. There are some rules you’ll need to know about from the fae side of things.” He slid into the booth next to me, and I shifted so I could see him. He leaned over to kiss my cheek.
Bahlin growled, and Tarrek stared at him, a slight wind coming off of him and stirring the long hair of both men.
“Enough,” I whispered harshly. Neither of them backed down. “E-nough,” I snapped, and both men turned to look at me. I suddenly realized I was trapped up against the wall with two supernatural creatures facing off in front of me. How did I keep managing to get myself stuck in a literal corner around the monsters?
“One thing you need to know is that we are both High Council members,” Tarrek said, turning back to stare at Bahlin. “Neither of us rule, though both of us attempt to lead.”
“That makes no sense,” I said, thinking through the little I knew of their behavior. “Is there not a leader for the Council?”
“Not per se,” Bahlin answered vaguely, returning his gaze to me. “We are supposed to rule the supernatural world as what you would consider a non-partisan governing body. It’s not a successful strategy. It’s one of the reasons there are five of us. There’s never a tied vote on anything. As we rarely agree on anything, some will vote against each other at times just for the sake of doing so. That’s really all you need to know at this point, darling.”
Tarrek looked at me and quirked an eyebrow at the easy endearment. I shrugged. It was just a word.
I thought back to what Bahlin said about my great-granddad—“he became disillusioned with the constant battles, the killings, and he wanted out.” Suddenly it made more sense. I closed my eyes, wondering if the no-aging thing would matter if I got myself killed in the proverbial line of duty. The thought of my own death seriously disturbed me, and I realized that even in my darkest moments over the last few months, I had never been to the point where I was truly ready to die.
“Madeleine?” Tarrek asked. “Are you well?”
“Maddy, Tarrek. I just go by Maddy,” I whispered. He reached out and touched my hair and the same chemistry flared between us that had occurred in my dream. He sucked in air and stroked my head, saying something in an unfamiliar language. For some reason I didn’t feel compelled to pull away from him.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“I said that you are an angel in the mist, a flower’s bloom on a starlit night, a gift from the goddess. I will trust you, my Niteclif.” He slowly removed his hand, and I felt bereft at the loss of his touch. What was wrong with me?
I shifted slightly in my seat, uncomfortable.
Bahlin stared at Tarrek for a moment before speaking. “It’s a bit early to be committing to the woman, don’t you think?” He sounded hostile.
“No. I have touched her and felt her soul. She is an angel with a brilliant mind. I will trust her,” he repeated, and it dawned on me the words might mean more than their face value.
“What does that mean, you’ll trust me?” I asked Tarrek. For some reason he was easier to address than Bahlin.
“It means that I will defer to your word as law. I will accept your rulings to be fair and just.” His eyes blazed at me for a moment, so fast I wasn’t entirely sure I’d seen it.
And then time stood still just as it had at the stones. The hair on my body stood on end, and I gripped the edge of the booth with all my strength. There was no sense of past or present; there was no noise, ambient or otherwise. I felt suspended in motion. With a sigh reminiscent of the stone circle, I felt time begin again. With stunning clarity I recalled the phrase that the stones had whispered following the pause of time—adael i ddechrau.
“What just happened?” I asked through clenched teeth.
“Glory, Tarrek. Congratulations, my man,” Bahlin hissed. Turning to me, eyes glowing icy blue, Bahlin said, “He’s accepted you as the Niteclif. He’s confirmed your place. It’s begun, Maddy.”
Oh shit. It was done. I hadn’t completely resigned myself to the decision, regardless of the signs and—let’s face it—the money, but apparently I’d been set into office by another’s sworn oath of allegiance. Great.
Tarrek looked confused and then his face went completely blank with understanding. “Maddy, I’m sorry. I had no idea you hadn’t already accepted. I assumed if you were sitting with Bahlin of your own free will, you were discussing the murders.”
“Murders?” I asked weakly.
“For the love of your goddess, Tarrek, shut the hell up,” Bahlin growled.
Tarrek whipped his head toward Bahlin, a snarl on his face. What had been handsome was immediately feral, the threat more than implied. “You do not rule here, dragon. Walk softly along this path lest it open beneath your feet and swallow you whole.” His voice echoed, the candles on the table flared and Bahlin slid down in the seat, crossing his arms on his chest and appearing wholly unmoved.
“Gentlemen,” I said softly, forcing them to turn and look at me instead of each other. “Let’s not do this here. There may come a time and place where it’s appropriate, but the mundanes in this room are pleasantly ignorant as to your dual existences. Let’s keep it that way.” The last was said with steel in my voice. I had no idea I had it in me, the ability to speak like that. Cool. “Now let’s talk murder.”
Bahlin had the kitchen plate my meal and send it up to room 2210, several floors above my original room. He also made arrangements as we passed the fro
nt desk to have all of my personal stuff moved up to that room too. I felt a little weird about people packing and unpacking for me, but he assured me it would be fine. He tossed my old room key across the front desk and ordered that a new key be delivered to my new room within the hour. We barely slowed down as we passed the desk, but his orders had staff scrambling to obey.
We were waiting for the elevator car to arrive when I remembered the phrase I’d heard. I turned first to Bahlin then to Tarrek and asked, “What does adael i ddechrau mean?” The phrase was fresh enough in my mind that I thought I had the pronunciation pretty close.
Bahlin, who had been watching the descending floor numbers on the elevator’s display, turned to face me. A look of disbelief colored his face. “Where did you hear that, Maddy?”
I looked at Tarrek and found that he was watching me equally as close.
I shrugged. “I know it sounds crazy, but I heard it breathe through the stones the night I made my wish and then I heard it again tonight when Tarrek made his oath and affirmed me.”
Tarrek looked away, apparently uncomfortable.
“Sodding hell,” Bahlin sighed. “It’s truly done then.” He ran his hands through his hair again, and I realized this was something he did when he was frustrated and unsure of himself. “It’s an Old World Welsh phrase that translates literally to ‘let it begin.’” He turned in a tight circle and stepped around me, grabbing Tarrek by his suit lapels and slamming him into the elevator doors with a great thud. “Do you realize what you’ve done to her you damned faerie?”
I grabbed Bahlin’s arm just as Tarrek muttered something below his breath and Bahlin’s hands were literally thrown from Tarrek’s arms. In the rush of what must have been magic, I was flung to the floor, sliding about fifteen feet before coming to a stop.
“Damn it all to hell,” I muttered, trying to get my feet under me to stand up. “I’m already tired of this freaking weird shit.”
Bahlin glanced at his palms.
Tarrek strode to my side. “I’m so sorry, Maddy. I had no idea you’d grab hold of him at that moment.” Distress was evident in his every word. He reached out to help me up.
“Forget it, Tarrek.” I watched Bahlin approaching Tarrek from behind. “In fact, both of you forget it. Now.” I clasped Tarrek’s hand and stood, realizing belatedly that we had a small audience of hotel and restaurant patrons. “Let’s leave this alone, guys. We’ve garnered enough attention, don’t you think?” I was flushed with embarrassment.
We all returned to the elevator door at the same time it dinged to let us know our car had arrived. We all studiously ignored the imprint Tarrek’s body had left in the metal doors.
The elevator ride to the room was tense and uncomfortable. Both men were standing as far from each other as possible, with their bodies turned away from each other but heads tilted toward me. I was in the middle again, literally and figuratively. We exited the elevator and the first thing I noticed was that the doors on this floor were spaced out much farther apart than those on my original floor. We went to the end of the hall and stood outside the door of 2210. Bahlin looked at the door and I heard a familiar muffled thunk and then the door swung open.
Ah, a repeat breaking and entering performance. I’d seen this before.
Regardless, I was proud of myself for being able to walk into the room on solid legs, no shakiness here finally. I stopped inside the door in the foyer of the room. No, not a room, but rather a suite. It was huge. Not sure how to react to the opulence, I didn’t. I followed the men into the room and stopped in front of one of the two sofas. One leather monstrosity faced a huge glass window that took in a view of Big Ben and the Thames. French doors off the living room opened into a large bedroom with a king-size bed.
Totally uncomfortable, I slowly turned to Bahlin and whispered, “I can’t stay here. This is too nice.”
“Maddy,” he said, walking to me and taking my hands, “you’ve got a lot to adjust to. The least the Council can do is provide this room, which is after all only a room, so that you’re comfortable. Consider it yours as long as you’d like to stay. And room service is at your disposal, courtesy of the hotel.” He looked at me, bending down to try and catch my gaze. I lifted my face toward his, and the concern I felt must have been evident. He brushed at the bangs hanging rag-tag along my forehead. I was touched by his small comforting gesture. He seemed genuinely concerned.
Tarrek cleared his throat. Stepping away from Bahlin, I turned to look at Tarrek. “You mentioned murder. I assume it wasn’t for the conversational shock value.”
Tarrek looked at me very directly then wandered to the sofa and sat, stretching out in apparent total comfort, one arm along the back and his right ankle propped on his left knee. He looked like a GQ cover model come to life.
“I thought you’d been affirmed, so I did broach the subject, yes,” he said softly. “And again, I’m sorry for that. Would you like to wait until tomorrow to discuss this first case?”
I turned to look at Bahlin who had wandered to the wet bar and was pouring a Coke over ice. “For you.” He grinned mischievously. “Since I didn’t get my red and you’re apparently going to need the caffeine.”
I smiled back at Bahlin, and Tarrek frowned.
“Thanks, Bahlin,” I said, clinking the ice in the glass as I tipped it gently toward him. “I think I’m ready to give this a shot.” He smiled at me and went to sit on the sofa opposite Tarrek. Both men shifted, inviting me silently to sit with them. I stood there for a minute then sat on the arm of Bahlin’s sofa, but at the opposite end so I was directly across from Tarrek. It was the best I could do in a pinch. I looked at Tarrek and said, “Let’s hear it.”
He smiled. “That easily? You’ll move into a case without any further preparation?”
I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know what to do to prepare,” I said. I’m nothing if not honest. “This is going to be a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants experiment in which I either succeed or fail. The only thing I can ensure is that, with any action I take, one of the two outcomes is guaranteed.”
Bahlin roared with laughter while Tarrek chuckled softly.
Tarrek smiled at me. “I suppose I can’t ask for more than such frank honesty.”
I shrugged.
“There have been two murders in the last nine days,” he began. Apparently we were really going to get right to it. “First there was the far darrig, or a type of leprechaun, that was killed; his tongue and voice box were taken and the body left outside his small shanty in the Scottish Lowlands.” I set my Coke down on the coffee table, feeling slightly ill. “We’ve also lost a cú sith, or giant Highland hound. His body was found in field of heather in the Highlands but his muzzle, in its entirety, was missing. A farmer found him while walking his fences.” I felt bile rise in the back of my throat. I was swallowing repeatedly. I didn’t know if I could do this after all. “We had to alter his memory to avoid the mundane police’s involvement.”
Bahlin looked over at me and was by my side in an instant. “Maddy? Sweetheart, put your head between your knees. Slow, deep breaths.” He shot a malevolent look at Tarrek and growled, “Could yeh no’ go easy on her this first night? Have yeh no wits?”
Tarrek looked at me, head tilted to one side like a giant dark bird of prey. “I thought you said you were ready to discuss the murders.”
I shuddered, taking air in slowly as Bahlin had suggested. “I thought I was, Tarrek. I’m sorry. This is going to take some getting used to.”
“Unfortunately, Maddy, there’s no time.” Bahlin made a low, disgusted noise in his throat. “There’s not, Bahlin. Much as it pains me to see Maddy suffer, for her spirit calls to mine as if they have once known each other, there’s no time to lose. While there are two dead so far, one of mine has gone missing.”
“When?” Bahlin and I asked at the same time. I sat up despite Bahlin’s protests.
“Near as I might tell, he disappeared today. Jossel was patrolling the forest around the sith
en, or our faerie mounds, and he never returned. You know we live underground?” he asked me.
I nodded, seeming to remember some of this from mythology. “Can you take me there?” I asked. “I’d like to see where he was last known to be.”
“Of course, Maddy. I’d be honored if you’d accompany me now.”
Bahlin was on his feet standing next to me before I could blink. “She’ll not be going without me, mate,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. Then he turned to me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t even think about it, sweetheart. I have to eat before we go anywhere. Our little shock recovery session drained me. It will have to wait until I’m able to accompany you.”
Of course, once he commanded me not to, I had no other choice. “Really? ‘Don’t even think about it, sweetheart’?” I rose to my feet, shrugging off his hand. “Tarrek, do you have a jacket I might borrow?” My clothes hadn’t been delivered yet, so it was borrow or go without.
He took his suit jacket off and stepped around the coffee table toward me. Bahlin made a movement as if to interfere and I spun toward him, slapping my hand on his hard chest. He didn’t flinch, though he did stop mid motion.
“You will not be my keeper, do you hear me?” My voice was a dangerous indicator of my tolerance level. “I will not be fawned over and treated like an incompetent child, even if I have no idea what I’m doing. You will humor me, as I’m the Niteclif, and this is my responsibility.” I blinked, shocked at my tone of voice, my expressed intent, myself. I had no idea where it had all come from.
Bahlin stared at me as if I’d grown another head. “So you think to run off and play detective your first night out, hmm?” he asked. His tone was superficially friendly, but even brief experience had taught me that I shouldn’t take him at face value.
“And you, my fellow Council member, would do well to remember that I can protect her as well as you can from all things that she may be protected from.” Tarrek’s voice was suffused with a lethal calm. He finished stepping toward me and held out his jacket. I shrugged into it and rolled my shoulders. There was little to do about the general size. It was just too big.
Legacy: The Niteclif Evolutions, Book 1 Page 6
