by D. D. Miers
Some of her dislike of me was hard won, and I carried those moments like badges of honor. Even the memory of my abject terror, one day "the Broker" would come find me, still made shivers run down my spine.
“Did your parents ever talk about the broker like he was a boogeyman, or is that just witch-lore?” I whispered to Grayson as we climbed the stone steps behind the brownie-butler.
He gave a shudder as he told me the story of the houdon witch who stole the souls of shifters, trapping their beasts in cages he ate to stay young.
“Damn, they do what they can to scare us shitless when we’re young, don’t they?”
He shrugged in reply, holding me back for a moment when the butler opened the door. “There are strange things inside. Just be warned, in brokering power, an exchange must be made.”
“So, there is a room full of blood bags and bottles of entrails?”
“When I was here last, there was a kelpie’s skin, a rose-pixie’s bush growing without water or soil, and yes, some blood. But all was freely given, and not violently taken.”
I tucked my hair behind my ear and met his concerned gaze with my steely one. “I am Morgana Silk, daughter of Gaia and of Fae. I do not fear my father’s people.” Even if I wonder sometimes if I should.
“Well said,” Tryst crowed, clapping in delight. It was just Tryst, because he was so old no one could remember him being anything else. “You sounded every bit a Fae princess.”
I flushed and forced the corners of my mouth up at the compliment, despite the nausea it invoked. “Than… Then I will be sure to sound this way more often.”
His lips twitched at my near faux pas. To Tryst, I was an easy mark, too used to living among humans to avoid the pitfalls of a conversation with a powerful High Fae.
“You should. You’ve become far too human for some of the high court. They say your mortality prevents your father from siring a proper heir.”
“Why? Is he in danger of dying soon? Because that would really be something to trade on, wouldn’t it?” I turned to Grayson. “What do you think, would I look good on a throne?”
Tryst blinked fast sighing. “You show your youth, princess.”
“Only because I feel lucky I’ve lived this long.”
He started, motioning me to one of the white leather wingback chairs in his parlor. “Luck had nothing to do with it. The witches have been forbidden to bring you harm, on pain of the wild hunt.”
A thousand tiny pieces of my puzzle fell into place all at once. “You knew I was here all along?”
He touched my face; his fingers cool and soft on my skin. “They could never just hurt you outright, but they found their ways, didn’t they?”
I scoffed and tossed my hair back, glaring straight into their eyes. “It’s amazing what passes for discipline, I guess.” I looked around the room, avoiding his eyes. “Do you have a family, Tryst?”
He clutched his chest in faux horror. “Perish the thought, Dear.” He waved noncommittally at the floor to ceiling shelves filled with knickknacks I assumed were the tokens of his trade. “I live a decadent, hedonistic life that would give most of the Fae nobility apoplexy if they saw it.”
Grayson had nodded off in his chair. I felt so guilty for being angry with him for not supporting me when he was fighting for his life. I knew the kind of energy required. “Can we talk somewhere else while he rests?”
“Of course, my dear. I’ll give you the full tour.” I let him talk without asking questions and he prattled on about all the priceless art and magic he’d acquired. His home was impeccably decorated all in shades of white. I couldn’t have lived there comfortably. I would’ve constantly been worried about leaving stains behind. But his brownies kept it looking like no one lived there at all.
We ended up in his office, disappointing only because the papers scattered on the desk and comfortable brown leather couch made it feel like we’d reentered reality after being in an enchanted palace of marble and crystal.
“So…this is where you live?”
He laughed and shuffled his papers, folding his hands on the desk. “This is where I talk to my clients.”
“I like it in here. The rest of your house…echoes. How do you live without plants or any kind of nature around you?”
His face was a careful neutral I’d come to learn meant a Fae was offended. I didn’t apologize, because if I didn’t apologize for the right thing, I would only make things worse. He steepled his fingers and rested his forehead on them. It made me think of when Orson got irritable with his hunters and counted to calm down.
“I have a proposition for you, princess of the Seelie Fae. You need strength your mortal blood won’t give you. You’ve reached adulthood, the Fae can’t pretend you don’t exist, or you aren’t a threat to their ambitions.”
“You’re telling me my life is in your hands, huh? What do you want in return for strength?” He frowned at me and I tried again. “Look, I know you’re used to people coming to you. But I don’t think you have anything I want. So, what do you really want from me?”
“I’ve been out here a long time, Princess. I want you to invite me into the mound, whenever you find yourself there.”
That… was not what I was expecting. “Uh, okay, why can’t you go back on your own?”
“That is my business. Suffice it to say, my punishment was overzealous for the infraction.”
I scoffed. “Will agreeing to this get me killed?” He shook his head. “Fine, if I ever get inside the mound, I will consider what you’ve asked. But the only thing I want from you is information on the warlock connection between Gideon’s death and me.”
Tryst glanced up and acknowledged someone behind me. “I hope you haven’t been making deals with the trickster while I was, unconscious.”
“No way, no how. I was just asking for information, and he was asking for an invite to my first royal ball.”
Grayson grunted and dropped next to me on the couch. “Has the restraining order expired, Tryst? Because it could get her into mortal trouble to defy the king’s order.”
I jumped to my feet and shook my finger at Tryst, since words escaped me. “You…” I turned to Grayson. “I asked him if it would get me killed.”
“And I have no way of knowing any harm would come to you.”
Grayson was on his feet too following me as I backed toward the door. “Right. Just like my aunt couldn’t have known beating me with a strap for singing in the shower might put me in the hospital.”
I stepped out of the office into the bright corridor and was overwhelmed by the grandness of it all. I shut my eyes tight and opened them, and the glamor was gone, revealing still priceless art and antiquities, but in a dull, grey space that felt hollow and lonely.
My now very alert were-jaguar guide led the way to the door, muttering under his breath about the dishonesty of the Fae, and I jogged to keep up with him. The butler appeared ahead of us from the parlor to open the door.
“Why Tryst?” I blurted, spinning on one heel to face him. “Why the hell would you risk it? Why ask me to risk it?” I wanted to hit him, to wrap him up with vines and shake him stupid. But even as I had the thought, I realized my magic didn’t work inside his mansion. “Holy shit. Tryst.” I gaped at him. “You have no magic of your own, do you?”
Behind me, Grayson hissed a warning. “It’s time to go.”
“Yeah, I know.” I looked at our host. “Do I get to know who your, uh, tryst, was with? What your magic was?”
His lip curled, and he took a deep breath, making his face a pleasant blank I knew was a mask. “No one would deny me, once upon a time. Any woman I wanted I took, any wealth I wanted, was mine.”
“But you screwed the wrong nobleman’s daughter…no, wife.” It was an unforgiveable crime, to break marital vows among the Fae. Divorce was rare but happened among fairy-kind. But the Fae, for being so long-lived, didn’t have many children. To possibly taint a bloodline was punishable by death.
“I use
d to be able to kill with a touch, and no one dared oppose me.” He chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “You’ve done your homework on the High Fae, Morgana Silk, half-blood future queen. Maybe if you’d looked a little closer at all the Fae, you’d have figured out who was trying to get you executed without chasing every Fae in town for answers.”
I pulled against Grayson’s grip on my arm and stood toe-to-toe with Tryst. “What are you saying? Who was in my apartment?”
“Oh, by the old gods. What Fae do you know who deals with warlocks?” He was almost shouting at me and I jumped back several steps. “Use your brain, princess. Who has the most to gain by upsetting the living king of the Fae and killing his only heir? The witches? Please.”
“And not the shifters, they’re a mess without Gideon.” Grayson muttered.
I sighed and rubbed my temples against the pressure building in my head. “Fae enough to care who I am, but not living by Fae law, because the Fae don’t care about weak, Wiccan magic.” I looked Tryst in the eye. “But not you, because you’ve got your own magic-harvesting racket.”
Grayson looked confused, and Tryst, well, for the first time since I’d met him, he looked empathetic. He seemed so hard and angry, but he’d been betrayed once. It was stupid of me to assume he’d have risked execution for a roll in the Fae-hay.
Tears burned my eyes as the final pieces fell into place. This is why you trust no one, you stupid, stupid idiot. But I had trusted, and I had to fix it, for the Fae, and the shifters. The blame for anything happening with Grayson’s people really was my fault.
Twenty
Pain screamed through my foot as I kicked the low stone retaining wall next to the car. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I hissed, and yelled it again for good measure, “Fuck the goddamned world right to hell.” I hopped on my good foot like a crazy person for a few seconds, kicking the wall again for good measure. The pain did nothing to clear my mind or rage, but I welcomed it anyway.
Tryst had shut the door on us almost before I got all the way out the door, and I could imagine him inside, laughing at my stupidity. I deserved it, too. We walked a careful line with the humans, always careful they knew only so much. There was an unwritten rule among the supernatural clans. The humans got to see only what kept them from fearing us. We didn’t have public turf wars, because the instant the government found out, they’d use fear to chase us back into hiding, or annihilate us finally.
But I couldn’t express how much to him it hurt. I’d not only left myself vulnerable, but the most human of us had betrayed me. And still, I knew I couldn’t hold on to the newly sprouted hope my family wasn’t behind it.
Grayson’s hands were on me, holding me tight, forcing me to stand still when I wanted to stomp and scream and turn the car upside down. The plants outside Tryst’s fence were agitated too, growing up and curling around the bars as far as they could. But whatever was preventing Tryst from being his true self stopped them before they reached the immaculate estate garden.
“Grayson, I need to get the fuck out of here. Take me home. Right now.” I’d meant to ask for Tell’s, but my magic was droning in my head so loudly I couldn’t think.
“I think you should tell me what’s going on.” His chest was hot, pressed against my cheek, and under the lapels of his sports coat and his silk t-shirt, his body was hard and thrumming with energy.
My eyes met his and all I wanted to do was bury my face in his hair while he devoured me from the neck down. His power flared in answer to my need, and his mouth was on mine without another word.
His lips were soft on mine, not as frantic as I felt, but slowly, deftly taking me apart bit by bit. He lifted me and rested my ass on the hood of the car, wrapping my legs around him as he held his hips away.
“I want you, but right now, I need you to focus, sweetheart. Tell me who’s hurting you.” He murmured nonsense in my ear as power flared between us, and I brought his mouth to mine again, harder than he had kissed me, using my teeth and tongue to explore the wet heat of his mouth. He pushed me away and growled. “I’ll not be distracted, woman.”
With a start, I scooched higher onto the hood and took a deep, shuddering breath. “I have to deal with it on my own, Grayson.” I slid toward him again and breathed him in. “But when I’m done, remind me to tell you about the little Fae princess who could call a shifter’s animal.” I said it to get a reaction and he didn’t disappoint. He jerked away from me like I’d burned him, and I laughed a little, my voice shaking. “Your power calls to me.”
He shook himself all over, like he was shaking off the bond between us. “Your power made me stronger, too.” He opened the door and gestured for me to get in. “We can talk on our way out of here.” I slid into my seat and he slammed the door, leaning in the open window to add, “and you will be talking.”
He tore out of the gate before it was fully opened and started back down the hill. “Now spill.”
“I can’t Grayson. I can’t. Let me make sure. I need to make sure because if Tryst speaks truth, someone will die tonight.”
“Then let me go with you.” He reached over and put his warm hand over my cold, trembling one. “Where am I taking you?”
“Bayside Brawlers Gym.” I didn’t say another word but spent the next few minutes gathering my magic. By now, I could’ve surfed a wave of new growth all the way to the gym, my magic was so keyed up.
Fortunately, he didn’t ask any more questions, just put the pedal to the floor and sped us to the gym like we were in Tokyo Drift. I gathered my magic, horrified I was preparing to level my safe place, the birthplace of my confidence and the one place dedicated to making me invincible to the witches.
Invincible, except to the man who had easily bypassed my wards, because they were never intended to keep him out. Who had fooled me when no one else could because I loved him and wanted to believe he believed in me.
The car skidded to a stop after bouncing over the curb onto the sidewalk and I was to the door by the time I heard the engine cut out.
“Will!” I yelled it from the door, reaching out with thin tendrils of magic in the hopes of finding any traps before I stepped in them. “Will, where the hell are you?”
The gym was quiet, and cold. Without the lights on, shadows ran rampant between the heavy bags and the weight machines. The little waning day filtering through the high windows was grey and thin, managing to make one small pool of bright light in the ring, but left twilight everywhere else.
Shadows had never scared me before the warlock had violated my home. Before Will left a dead body in your bed. It’s too late to sugarcoat things now. I stepped between the shadows, walking on the balls of my feet like when I was little, and my aunt turned my game of pretend into a real lava obstacle course.
“Stop. Wait for backup.” Grayson was at the door, scenting the air inside. “Let me call the police.”
“Gray, at best they’ll find nothing and assume I’m trying to cover my tracks. At worst I’ll get them all killed, and it will look like I did it on purpose.” I took another step into the lightest of the grey patches, waiting for a shadow to become a man and tear my heart out.
“Damnit, what am I supposed to do?” He took a few steps inside and I used the weeds outside to trap his arms.
“Go to your pack, Grayson.”
“Who are you looking for? Is the warlock here?” Grayson growled in frustration “You know you’re going to get yourself killed.”
I pivoted carefully and faced him before examining the room again. “I need you to go, Grayson. I think you’re scaring off my friend.” I felt him flex against my magic, but I was stronger than when we’d met, or knew my magic better, or whatever had been happening. He couldn’t tear my vines and it made him even angrier.
Good thing Tryst didn’t see this. I drew him out of the gym and shut the door between us. The vines crawled up the door and entwined within the handles to lock it shut. I turned my attention back to the pool of light in the middle of the ring.
<
br /> Glass spun past me as the doors shattered in behind me with a crash. "You’re being stupid.” Grayson was at my side in two giant bounds. “I’m trying to help you.”
“You can’t help me with this, Grayson. It already spilled over to the coalition with Gideon’s death.”
“Which is why I get to stay.”
“I’m sorry, Grayson. Not until I know who to blame. After I do, you can go all claws and teeth on them.”
“You know who’s to blame.” His anger had taken an edge, his energy clawing at me instead of rubbing up against mine. It wasn’t a physical attack, but I hadn’t no shield against the metaphysical, almost making it worse.
I spun on him, searching for life inside the gym to use against him, but all active magic was blocked, just like it had been at Tryst’s. Exactly as it had been, lifeless and cold and terrifyingly lonely.
“Grayson, for once, please, trust me.” I watched the struggle in his eyes, the protector alpha part of him refusing to leave.
“If you die, I will find a Houdon to resurrect you and kill you again myself,” he snarled, backing out of the door. He lifted his nose to the air, turning and slamming his fist into a wall so hard plaster fell to the floor. I saw a wavering of the shadow on the wall next to the fist-shaped dent.
Without another word, he stormed out, leaving me to face my opponent, alone.
Twenty-One
The light was fading in the center of the ring, and Will slipped through the darkness, approaching me from the shadows. I gave up on being careful and ran full out, sliding on my belly under the ropes and slapping my palm down on the light before it could disappear completely.
It was all I needed, and I held the light, spread it around me until it filled the ring. I turned, searching the shadows in the dark corners of the big concrete room. “C’mon, Will. Why hide now? You’ve effectively pinned my ass to the wall, if I hurt you, they’ll just execute me sooner.”
The top rope vibrated, I spun around to see him in the corner, hands out to his sides, palms up. “You came in pretty hot, what’s up?”
