She waited until the fog had thickened, then stripped off the rest of her garb and emptied her pockets. There was little of value except for Amelie’s ring, which she quickly cupped out of sight in her right hand. Motionless, she concentrated on the slender band, whispering a spell. The magic was Light Fey craft, quick and precise as a diamond cutter’s blade. The burst of power would be gone before anyone detected its presence.
The ring turned, spiraling through the meat of her hand until it disappeared inside her flesh. Lark gagged at the pain, covering her mouth with her other hand to stifle any cries. Sweat chased gooseflesh across her skin as waves of agony surged through her. She sank to her knees, barely aware of the hard stone floor. By the time the spell ended, she was panting.
Lark remained where she was for a long moment while her head stopped spinning. Then she stepped into the pool, hoping it would wash away her discomfort. It didn’t disappoint. The bath was deep enough to stand in, and the water buoyed her up, hot and comforting.
She flexed her fingers, relieved that they still moved, if painfully. A small white scar marked the spot where the ring had gone in, but that was hardly remarkable. The ring was effectively hidden.
She let herself sink beneath the water, rejoicing as the water sluiced the grime from her hair. She rose up, pushing her tangle of dark locks from her eyes just as the curtain drew aside.
Jack had shed his clothes, and she took a moment to appreciate the view. At this close distance, the steam rising from the water did nothing to obscure detail. The fact that they had made love hours before only gave fresh clarity to her imagination.
Jack climbed the steps down into the bath, displacing the water so that it lapped higher, reaching Lark’s collarbone. She pushed herself backward, drifting until her back rested against the marble side of the pool. She caught the lip of it, steadying herself.
“Shouldn’t you get a lady’s permission before invading her bath?” she asked.
“Better to ask forgiveness after.”
“That hardly seems the act of a gentleman.”
“It seems to me a gentleman’s task is to ensure satisfaction.”
His hands circled her waist, lifting her from the water as if she was no more than a reed. His lips pressed to her belly, his tongue capturing the water that trickled from her skin.
“Put me down,” she protested, but wasn’t sure that was what she wanted. This was a dangerous place, filled with spies. They had plans to make. She’d only come here to hide the ring—but that was hard to remember with Jack touching her.
He let her slide gradually, an inch at a time, the muscles in his arms working with the effort to hold her in place. And the places he let her slide were designed for perfect friction. Lark flung her head back, her breath shuddering in as his mouth took its due along every step of the ride.
His lips found the notch at the base of her breastbone. Her muscles tightened, exquisitely alive to the hint of fang in the kiss. Her legs wrapped around his waist, asserting some control.
“I thought you wanted down,” he murmured.
“I changed my mind.”
He lifted his gaze, no doubt on the cusp of more sarcasm, but she bent and stopped his mouth with her own. His hands found her breasts, rolling her nipples with his thumbs. She shuddered, wanting him inside her again.
And then her back was braced against the marble, his mouth working down her body, this time with more teeth. A vampire’s fangs emerged sometimes in hunger and sometimes in lust, and she suspected Jack was feeling both as he dipped beneath the water, the brush of his hair erotic as the water stirred it against her skin. No bubbles rose, as he didn’t need air, but tiny blooms of blood rose through the steaming bath.
He knew how to use the prick of those needle-sharp points for pleasure. Tiny fires erupted along her hip, the crease of her thigh, her most private places, and finally at the vein of her thigh. There was a white-hot pinch, and she gasped, pleasure slaying her as she felt him drink. Ripple after ripple of pleasure took her as the water, the warmth and Jack’s expert touch left her weak and wanting more.
Finally he emerged, streaming water, his mouth at once locking onto her breast, the sudden greedy suction drawing a cry from her lips. He released her only to push inside her sex, his shaft full and demanding, stretching her until she was sure she’d reached her limit, and then easing in another inch more. He had been urgent and demanding earlier, but now he seemed bent on extracting maximum pleasure from every move. Lark gasped as he grabbed her hip with one hand and the lip of the marble with the other and began working her, thrusting and withdrawing with a glacial slowness that hit every nerve inside her body with fireworks.
“By Oberon,” she breathed.
“Shh,” he said. “It’s my name I want to hear.”
She tried to reply, but her words trailed into a meaningless groan.
She arched into his rhythm, her body taking over as her brain dissolved to mist. Her hands were braced on his shoulders, her nails digging in. The feel of them seemed to spur him on, even as red stripes showed where her grasp had slipped. It was the same for her, the tiny fires where he’d bitten her swirling with the friction of their lovemaking.
And then a glow of light bloomed from his fingers, coruscating over her limbs with a thousand tiny pinpricks. This was not the harsh blue demonfire she’d seen before. The snaking coils of lightning were dark pink and bright yellow, snapping and exploding into more colors, diving through her flesh and Jack’s. She sucked in her breath, alarmed for a moment until she felt the hum of his power rippling through her. It was like trails of molten desire winding along every nerve in her body. They clustered in her belly but didn’t stop there. They spread to every corner of her—along her jaw, her wrists and the backs of her knees until every fiber of her was sensitive to the least contact. And then Jack touched her there, and there, and there. She shuddered with the enveloping pleasure of it, weakened until only he held her up.
Her surrender ripped a satisfied growl from deep inside him. His slow, patient strokes suddenly quickened, building into an act of possession so absolute Lark could only grab on for the ride. He took Lark with an appetite bordering on fury.
He made a wild, torn sound that might have been a laugh. The water around them steamed now from the heat of his power, as if the storm within him was manifesting in the world. Through the haze, Lark glimpsed the bright stars of Jack’s eyes.
The net had slipped, and his demon had surfaced once more. It seemed that even without a magic blade, she had the power to strip Jack of his iron control.
She gave a single throaty cry, biting down to silence it as her body abandoned all reason.
Chapter 25
When they finally came to rest some time later, they were back on the couch, one of the tapestries tangled around them. The wall hangings had suffered during a subsequent bout of lovemaking, and the room looked as if a swarm of imps had been through.
Consciousness came back to Lark in degrees, her awareness first taking in Jack’s embrace, then the room and then how they had gotten there. Finally came the hammer blow of what they had to do before they’d ever know true safety again. The yearning to bury her face in Jack’s shoulder and dive back into oblivion nearly broke her will.
But instead, Lark gathered herself, withdrawing an arm, then a leg and finally easing away until she was on her feet. Jack slept on, quiet as an effigy. The stillness of a sleeping vampire was eerie until one got used to it. Lark stood for a time, studying his face. He was in a dreamless sleep, finally enjoying true rest. She would not wake him.
She pulled on the clothing the Dark Fey had left. The outfit was little more than a long gauzy skirt, slit to the hip, and a short tunic that fastened with a jeweled clip at one shoulder, leaving her other arm and a good deal of stomach bare. The fabric was an iridescent rainbow of color. She combed out
her hair and slid her feet into the soft slippers her hosts had left for her.
She knelt beside Jack, letting her hand rest on his hair. Power still hummed along his skin, as if now that it was awakened, it would not be silent. She had felt a lick of that power as she’d lain in his arms, and she knew the full strength of it unleashed in rage would be unimaginable. Jack’s will was all that kept the world safe from it.
Lark pressed her lips together. It was her betrayal that had first uncovered the demon, and every time she made love to Jack, the demon showed itself more. Was that what Asteriel had meant when he’d shown her the knife in Jack’s dream? Was her yearning for Jack putting them in danger?
She didn’t know, and there was no time to ponder. Lark glanced at the window high in the wall, and the sky appeared darker. The hours traveled oddly in fey lands, but she assumed it was nearing the start of the banquet. She had to hurry if she meant to do some reconnaissance. She found Jack’s jeans and slid his lock picks from the pocket.
She hesitated a second time. She didn’t want to leave Jack alone in the Dark Queen’s castle, deeply asleep and vulnerable. They had been careless to risk sleeping at all, but passion had left them exhausted. However, the reality was that Selena wanted them at the banquet to get whatever concession she was after. It wasn’t in her best interest to betray them yet. The time for that would come later.
Lark crept to the door and put a careful finger on the bronze handle. There was no enchantment. A quick shove opened it and she looked out. There were no guards in sight. Taking a deep breath, she cast a glamour of invisibility and pulled the door shut behind her.
Lark touched the painful spot where the ring had sunk into her hand. Gently, carefully, she cast a seeking spell. Amelie had worn the ring constantly, the chain holding it next to her heart. Now the magic in the ring pulled toward the princess, drawing a golden line in Lark’s mind and showing her the way. She wasted no time, her soft slippers making barely a whisper against the stone floors.
Amelie’s room was unguarded, but it was locked. Using Jack’s lock picks, Lark was inside in a matter of moments.
Amelie gasped in shock when Lark appeared in front of her. The princess looked disheveled but uninjured. Lark saw at once there were chains around Amelie’s wrists, shackling her to the wall.
“How did you get here?” Amelie exclaimed, but quietly. Despite the circumstances, the princess had kept her wits about her. “And what on earth are you wearing?”
Lark fell on her knees, cupping the young woman’s face between her hands. The princess’s violet eyes were haunted. “Are you hurt?” Lark asked.
“No, but I’m scared witless.” The princess was drawn, as if she hadn’t slept for days. “They’re furious I don’t have the ring.”
“Lancelot brought it to us.”
“What an excellent friend he is.” Amelie closed her eyes, just managing a smile. “And so are you. You were right to bring me that potion. They keep taking my blood. They’ve heard rumors that my mother had fey ancestry and they think that makes me more valuable as a hostage.”
Guilt stabbed through Lark, and she buried her face in her hands. She cursed herself again for using the healing spell. She’d caught the interest of the Blackthorns and led them straight to the princess. “Don’t worry. The potion is strong.”
As long as Selena couldn’t confirm anything, the Dark Queen would make no decisions about the princess. That bought them time. Lark lowered her hands and put on a confident smile. “Besides, we’re going to find a way to break you out of here.”
“What about Kyle?” The princess closed her eyes, her chin trembling. “He disappeared when we came through the lake.”
Lark winced, remembering Jack’s handcuffs. “Portals tend to scatter people around. He probably woke up a mile or two away.” Her insides twisted at the thought. A mortal lost in a fairy world would be in deep trouble.
“You have to find him,” Amelie begged. “I can’t leave until you do. I won’t risk the gates closing with him on the other side. Promise me, Lark!”
“Jack and I will do everything we can.”
“Jack’s here?” Hope flashed in Amelie’s violet eyes.
“Yes.” Lark couldn’t stifle a grin she was sure told more secrets than she’d like. “With bells on.”
The door rattled. Lark spun around, reaching for her glamour, but it was too late. Drusella Blackthorn was in the doorway. The look on her face made Lark’s stomach plunge.
“I heard that,” Drusella said with deceptive softness. “I think we need to put a bell on you instead.”
* * *
Jack awakened to find Selena lounging in a nest of cushions, watching him with hungry eyes. He sat bolt upright, grabbing the tapestry with one hand and groping for a weapon with the other.
She waved a dismissive hand. “Relax, vampire. I’m not after your life or your virtue. Not at the moment, anyhow.”
Jack froze, foreboding pounding in his veins. His first, only and immediate thought was simple. “Where’s Lark?”
“She decided to have a look around. My people will find her and bring her back in time for dinner.”
“Unharmed,” Jack growled, vowing to have words with Lark for creeping off alone.
“Don’t snarl, Jack, surliness doesn’t suit you. My orders are to leave her in one piece.” Selena plumped a pillow that had slithered off the couch and added it to her pile.
Jack’s growl deepened.
The queen waved an impatient hand. “I should point out you might sound more authoritative with clothes on.”
With a final snarl, Jack tossed the tapestry aside and rose. The queen watched, one eyebrow raised. “You have been hiding your light under a bushel.”
Beautiful as Selena was, the lascivious sweep of her gaze left him feeling unclean. With hasty movements, Jack pulled on the clothes the fey had left for him—a tunic and leggings, richly embroidered, with a long leather belt. Next, he hunted through the clothes he had cast off. Lark had been right—he could tell they’d been searched as they slept. But his leather jacket had been buried beneath another of the unlucky tapestries. There he found his phone, wallet and the case containing the vial of Lexie’s blood. There was no way to carry the items—the fey didn’t seem to go for pockets—so he defiantly slipped the jacket on and turned to face her again. “Better, Your Majesty?”
She smiled at his mocking tone. “An interesting combination of fashion statements.”
“They say clothes make the man.”
“Then that makes you just as original.” Her smile turned feline. “I wanted a word with you alone.”
“A word about what?” he asked carefully, slouching against the wall where he could see her every move.
“The little fey. You and I know the Light follow their own counsel. That’s always been their way, closing their borders and turning inward, as if no other race was fit to lick their boots.”
“Are we having a political discussion?”
“I simply want to know what her agenda is. She’s in my house. Of course you want the prisoners back, but what is she doing here?”
“What makes you think Lark has a private objective?”
Selena gave a long, slow blink. “I don’t suppose she’s ever kept things from you before?”
It was as if Jack felt the knife slipping into him all over again. The memory of white-hot pain roused him from his careless posture. He folded his arms. “Your point, Your Majesty?”
“I’m holding you responsible for her good behavior. As a fey woman myself, I know the power of our allure. Be certain she doesn’t lead you down an unfortunate path while you are in my kingdom.” Selena gave a pointed look around the room tumbled by their exuberant lovemaking. “I know you’re a man of strong will. I trust you will keep your head.”
To
his disgust, Jack felt himself flush. Lark’s acceptance of his dual nature had led him to lower his guard a notch. That was a marvelous gift, but it was a dangerous one. Selena was right about one thing—his demon side could easily develop a taste for freedom. And every time the demon gains an inch, it is Lark’s doing. She started your slide with that knife, but she’s kept pushing your limits, hasn’t she?
He wasn’t going down that road. “Duly noted, Your Majesty.”
Selena was standing in front of him now, the dim light of the room catching the jewels in her elaborate coiffure. They winked like captive stars. “I think you know my concerns are not groundless. You see, I know more about you than you think.”
“Oh?”
She put a hand on his chest. Her fingers were long and slim. “You were not made a vampire in the usual way. Your human was half fused with one of the Fallen.”
Jack grasped her hand to move it away. “Very few people know that.”
She wrapped her fingers around his, her smile playful now. “I paid for that knowledge many, many years ago, but never got the chance to put it to use.”
A sensation like cold spider feet scuttled up his spine. “Perhaps you wasted your gold.”
She didn’t look away. “It always pays to know your friends and your enemies. I haven’t decided which you’ll turn out to be yet.”
“I suppose that depends on whether I help you through the gates.” He extracted his hand from hers and took a step back. “I can spare you the suspense. I won’t.”
“There are worse enemies than me.”
“That would be a very short list.”
Selena was the most dangerous creature he’d ever met, with the possible exception of Asteriel. The Fallen at least wanted redemption. Jack wasn’t sure Selena could spell it.
Her smile was indulgent. “You think you can’t be convinced? I can compensate you in ways you can’t imagine.”
Possessed by the Fallen Page 19
