Trueheart (Portland After Dark Book 1)

by Mel Sterling

  "Tell her, Aaron," the Queen urged him, as if he were a foolish child. "Do you wish to leave me?"

  "No, my love. Come back to bed."

  The Queen gave Tess a sharp-edged smile. "You see?"

  "Why don't you let me speak to him alone? He probably doesn't really understand what's going on around him. Addicts sometimes don't, you know. And you've addicted him to something. I don't know what, precisely, but he needs to come with me."

  Thomas felt the blood drain from his face at Tess's words. He would never have imagined speaking to the Queen in such a manner, but Tess had no idea of the fae's power, even though fae magic had chased them out of Tess's house before that same magic swallowed it whole.

  The Queen smiled sweetly. "So bold. I see why Thomas is enamored of you. You are much like me."

  Tess blinked. "Is that supposed to flatter me? Because—"

  The Queen interrupted. "I do not flatter. I have no need of flattery. My people serve me because it is their desire."

  Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas saw Hunter's antlered head lift as if he had been stung. Serving the Queen was a duty rather than a desire by now, for both of them. Thomas because he had at last found two things he wanted more than he wanted the Queen—his own humanity, and Tess. And Hunter...Hunter wanted what the Queen had. That much was clear to Thomas. But still she ruled them both, though Thomas did not understand the hold she had over Hunter. Perhaps the huntsman merely stayed close, biding his time. For a moment Thomas wondered what the Unseelie Court would be like with Hunter at its heart and head, and decided it didn't bear consideration. Hunter was a killer.

  "I don't think we're alike at all. You've enslaved Thomas. I've seen your thing on his arm." Her hand flailed toward Aaron. "You've put one on Aaron's neck. How is that love? How is that desire?"

  "So young." The Queen looked at Thomas. "You were once so young. Full of life and ideals, but never so full of spite."

  "Aaron!" Tess tried again. "Your family misses you terribly. I saw your mother yesterday. She hasn't heard from you, and she's afraid something bad has happened."

  Aaron still had eyes for no one but the Queen. His fingers touched the torc at his neck and lingered there. He stayed where he was, the smoky curtains moving gently behind him as if the bed were breathing.

  "You see," the Queen said gently. "Aaron belongs here." Her gaze flicked to Thomas. "As do you, my knight."

  "No! Neither of them belong here!" Tess took a step forward, slipping her free hand into the top of the tote. Her fingers closed around something and lifted it out, just as Thomas realized what she was doing and hissed at her to stop.

  She held up a snail shell carved of cloudy pale stone and glittering with silver chased through the spiral, between her thumb and forefinger. When he'd seen it in Tess's house, it had seemed a prettily carved stone faintly touched by fae glamour. But now, here in the Unseelie Court, it had a shine all its own, a transient marbling like a curling tress of smoke trapped under glass, and that purple magic dancing along the silver like the sparks from static electricity.

  Thomas's hand clenched on hers so tightly she gasped from the pain.

  The effect of the trinket on the Queen was like touching a match to gunpowder. The Queen's eyes narrowed and sparkled, sunlight on snow. The pixie gown burst away from her, fluttering uncertainly like a startled flock of starlings with no place to land. Her form changed from a beautiful woman to a circling, weaving snake and back again, as if the Queen could not contain her emotion or her magic.

  Suddenly her face was a bare inch from Tess's, the reek of danger absolute and unmistakable in Thomas's nostrils, her head moving and swaying, hypnotic as a cobra's dance.

  "That is mine. Give it to me!"

  Thomas's heart nearly jolted from his body in terror when Tess almost did as the Queen said, but at the last second Tess's fingers closed over the snail shell.

  Maybe the Queen couldn't take it away from Tess, Thomas realized in astonishment. What stopped her? He could not imagine, but foolhardy Tess shook her head.

  "I found it. I will keep it." Tess's declaration chilled Thomas to the marrow. If only she had kept the things secret a little longer, he might have used them to bargain for their lives, but Aaron's presence had tipped the balance for Tess. She would save the world, given a single strand of hope. It was both the thing he loved best about her, and the thing he feared most. She spoke again, leaning past the Queen. "Aaron! Take it! It will make you well again!"

  For a moment the haze of desire cleared from Aaron's face. He looked away from the Queen to the snail shell in Tess's hand, and took a step toward it. "Come on!" Tess cried. "Take it, and take my hand! I'll get you home again." Thomas heard the desperation in her voice, the fear and dread and longing all mixed.

  The Queen turned her attention to Thomas, still only inches from Tess. "Is she the thief?"

  Thomas looked away from Tess with an effort.

  "Thomas," the Queen prompted, the word sickeningly sweet coming from the serpent mouth. "I asked you a question. You must answer with truth."

  "Aaron!" Tess urged again.

  "Yes," Thomas said at last, wretched.

  "Ahh," the Queen whispered, and into the silence that followed came the sharp, twanging sounds of several strands of his armband breaking. Thomas let go of Tess's hand and clutched at his arm. Pain. Relief. Guilt. For betraying Tess, his Queen had rewarded him.

  She looked down at the bag of trinkets, still clutched tightly under her arm, and then at Thomas, who would not meet her eyes. "Oh, Thomas."

  "And so Thomas betrays you," said the Queen, still sweetly. "Because, like Aaron, he belongs to me. And I have rewarded him for his efforts, you little thief."

  Tess stared at the woman, who slowly settled away from her, the pixie gown returning, the sharp smile curving her lips, more human now than serpent, though her eyes were still strange and glinting. Then she looked at Aaron, who put a hand to the torc once more.

  "I'm staying here. But it was nice to see you again." Aaron blinked sleepily and walked back to the bed, where the draperies thinned to allow him entry, then thickened and hid him from view.

  Tess closed her hand over the snail shell and shut her eyes.

  Hunter, a few feet away, laughed softly and drew a stone blade from his belt—stone, not silver, for the ancient wild magic. "Blood, my Lady? Salt? Meat?"

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  WHEN TESS OPENED HER EYES again, hoping against hope that she was waking and the nightmare ended, the Queen was no longer in her face. Tess drew a long breath of relief. The snail shell was still in her hand. The tote bag was still tucked under her arm, though it was growing mossier with each moment and spreading its greenery to her clothing and shoulder bag like a contagion. She had a second or two to observe while the Queen regarded Hunter—and the knife in his hand—thoughtfully and her tongue flicked across her lips.

  The Queen's gorgeous gown was made of pixies, Tess saw now, the same leafy fairies that had taunted Tess at Aaron's house and flown out of the tote bag in her kitchen. Tess recalled Thomas's casual slaughter of them as she saw the creatures clinging to the Queen, covering her and revealing her at the same time, a living gown of autumn flame and bronze, in continual motion. These strange, beautiful, biddable and disposable creatures. It was all part and parcel of the otherness Tess could not seem to wrap her mind around. Tree girls, seductive water horses, things that wanted to eat her, things that disguised themselves as rubbish. Ivy and bluebells that consumed entire buildings.

  Aaron seemed to have no use for her, no wish to return to his human life. Is this what had happened to Stephen? The idea turned her stomach. Thomas seemed to have survived his encounters with the Queen rather than succumbing to a deathly trance. Tess glanced at him to see his reaction and found he was taking off his oilskin coat. She was transfixed by the droplets of red that dripped from the fingers of his left arm onto the floor. The color was suddenly the only thing Tess could see. Thomas was bleeding.
r />   With a gasp, Tess shoved the snail shell back into the tote bag and hurried to Thomas's left side, where she pushed up the sleeve of his sweater. Blood had soaked through parts of the weave and was dripping from where the curling gold wires pierced his skin in a dozen places. The armband was appreciably thinner than when she'd seen it earlier.

  At the sight of the blood, a number of pixies fluttered from the Queen's gown to the floor. The creatures smeared it over their lips in ecstasy, their autumn colors brightening with each lick and swallow. Tess was sickened by the bestial sight. Her trembling fingers worked at the armband, pulling each wire free of Thomas's flesh with great effort. At the same time, her feet scuffled at the pixies on the floor, trying to kick them away from the droplets.

  "How could you," she breathed, not looking at the Queen. "You bitch."

  There was a rustle as one pixie, wizened and coarsely curled as an old cornhusk, broke from the feeding flock and returned to the Queen, where it offered a palmful of blood. The Queen shook her head with an indulgent smile, and the pixie settled in a spot above the curve of the Queen's breast, licking its hands clean. Thomas's blood did not brighten the weary gold of spent summer cornstalks. Perhaps it was too old. Tess hoped the vile little creature would die. If it came in reach again, she would pinch its evil head just as Thomas had done in her kitchen.

  Thomas put a hand up to halt Tess's struggle with the wires. "Never mind. Leave it."

  Tess ignored him, her face grim and set, continuing the gory task of bending the wires away at less harmful angles. The pixie, finished with its refreshment, stood at the Queen's shoulder and spoke into her ear while it looked at Thomas and Tess with a mocking smirk on its tiny, pointed face. The Queen smiled again and nodded, and the husk disappeared into the hundreds of pixies that made the Queen's autumn gown. Tess caught a sudden glimmer in the Queen's eyes, and then it was masked, with only her seductive, mutable beauty remaining.

  "You really should return my things," the Queen said now, looking at Tess. "Return them, and you may go free."

  "I'm not finished here. I certainly won't leave without Thomas and Aaron."

  "So noble! Even though Thomas has betrayed you, thief?"

  The last wire pulled free. Only a few strands remained intact. She brushed away the splinters of bone and picked a couple out of the sweater before she pulled the sleeve back down over the wounds. There was nothing else she could do for the bleeding right now. "I...know he was just doing his job. He didn't know I was—he didn't know I had your things. I didn't know they belonged to anyone. It's not the same as stealing."

  "Stop talking," Thomas said to Tess. She met his gaze and tears welled up.

  The Queen took a step forward again. "I can give you what you long for most. Thomas will tell you I can. I gave him his own heart's desire many and many a year ago."

  "You made him your slave, just the way you're making Aaron." Tess groped for Thomas's hand and squeezed it tightly.

  He returned the pressure but whispered, "Let it be."

  "It was what he most wanted." The Queen turned to where Hunter leaned against one of the crystal formations that made the posters of her bed. Hunter flipped the knife in his hand, his feet spread apart in an easy stance. Tess had the distinct impression he was smiling beneath the stag's head mask. She fought down a shudder, that dreaded trio of words ringing in her ears. Salt, blood, meat. "Just as I gave my Hunter what he most wanted. What I give all my lovers."

  Hunter stilled, which was more terrifying to Tess than any of his wicked, casual knifeplay.

  Tess curled her lips in distaste, hiding her fear. "To be your slaves."

  The Queen came forward slowly, her smile as gentle as summer rain. She ran lingering fingertips over Thomas's shoulder, down to where his muscle bulged over the too-tight armband, into the stain of blood. "You wished to be my knight, didn't you, my love? My strong arm."

  It was clear to Tess that Thomas felt the old pull of the Queen's magic and beauty, the sway of her personality. Her grip on Thomas's hand grew fierce as he leaned toward the Queen, his eyes following every bright-eyed glance and every stroke of her fingers. At Tess's painful grip, Thomas swallowed and turned his gaze toward the bed where Aaron was concealed within.

  The Queen followed his gaze. "And Aaron, my sweet, sweet Aaron—he does wish to serve me, as you see, but it is with love that he is leashed." The Queen turned to Tess, persuasion evident in every line of her body, every gentle motion of her hand.

  "A slave collar," Tess spat. "You've addicted him to you. Let him go."

  "Aaron has made his choice. His bargain is sealed."

  "You're a lying bitch." Tess's voice broke with anger and disappointment. She could feel she was failing in her quest, but she had nothing else to use except her words, to try and make the Queen understand how wrong her actions were.

  The Queen ignored Tess, turning instead to Hunter.

  "Remove your mask, my Hunter. Show our visitor we are courteous."

  Hunter straightened, stilling the knife and lowering his arms very slowly. "My Lady..."

  She gave a slight jerk of her head. It wasn't something to ignore, and apparently even Hunter, powerful Hunter, had no choice but to obey. His hand went to the deer skull and slowly, slowly, lifted it from his head.

  Where the deer skull had sat were deep ridges in Hunter's flesh, raw and angry wounds across the man's prominent cheekbones. His eyes still glowed red, but without the dark hollows of the skull mask to accent their light, they seemed less dangerous and frightening. A hundred black braids fell across his shoulders.

  Without the mask, he was diminished, which is what the Queen had meant to accomplish. Tess could see hatred in Hunter's eyes. Hatred, yes...and a sick pleasure that the Queen had noticed him, turned her attention to him, at last.

  The thing that held Tess's eye was the spiky golden crown circling Hunter's brow, made of glittering razor-edged ribbons and barbs pointing inward, pressing the flesh of his forehead and scalp.

  Cutting him, piercing him.

  Just like Thomas's armband.

  "Hunter wished to rule me," the Queen said, in a voice as hard and brittle as glass, ringing with a crystalline clarity in the room. "He would be king. I crowned him, as he desired."

  Thomas had once told Tess that his armband always pained him, but Hunter's crown was something else again. No wonder Hunter preferred to remain masked instead of displaying the badge of his hubris for all to see. Here in the Queen's chamber, it seemed Hunter was not permitted the glamour that turned the crown into the headdress of reeds, dreadlocks and animal tails. Tess realized there was no defeating the Queen, not here on her home ground where all the rules were hers to make, or change, or break.

  "He's like you—" Tess gasped to Thomas.

  "Don't listen. She's playing on your sympathy. She's using you."

  The Queen cut across Thomas's statement with a hiss. "You could help them both. It's very simple." She put out a graceful hand to receive the mossy bag of trinkets. Her melting, sweet glance was full of understanding and care. "I know what's in that bag. Those things belong to me. Return them. If you do, I will reward both my knight and my huntsman, and give you your heart's desire."

  Tess shook her head and clutched the bag tighter. "These...things...need to be returned to the people you took them from."

  The Queen's laugh was kind. "Precious girl, so many of those people are dead. This is the only way they can live on, to become part of my Court the way they would have wanted. Will you refuse to honor their wishes?"

  "If they're dead, it's because you stole their lives."

  "Not stolen. The Unseelie never steal. Everything is given willingly. They all had their heart's desire, the same as Thomas has had his, even though he seems to want more than his fair share now." When the Queen turned her eyes upon him, her pupils slitted, clever and cunning and judging.

  "You would make...what, ivy and bluebells and moss of them?" Tess knew she was treading upon very thin ice.


  The Queen drew the back of her hand softly over Tess's cheek, smiling when Tess flinched from her touch. "Is that so awful? Tell me, what would you have them be? Should I return them to the misery from which I rescued them? These were souls the humans had abandoned. Men and women discarded by you and those like you."

  "Not Aaron. Not Rory. Not Stephen—"

  The Queen gave a sudden inhalation, and a smile. "Stephen. Ah, yes." Her gaze cut to Thomas. "That is what I tasted on you earlier. They were children together, sister and brother, yes? She is very like him." Her gaze turned back to Tess. "Your brother loved me too."

  Thomas could almost feel the rupture in Tess's heart as she threw back her head, biting her lips, gazing upward to hide salty tears. In a moment she had controlled the emotion that flooded her face. When she spoke, her voice was brittle and harsh. "He didn't love you. He was an addict. They don't love, they crave. But I loved him. And you took him because he was weak."

  "Not everyone is so beloved as you would have me believe. Everyone the Unseelie take has made the choice to come to us."

  "Only because you make the poison so sweet! That's no choice at all! I will not give them up. Let me take Thomas and Aaron and leave with these things, and I swear we won't tell a soul about this night, or your home here under Forest Park. You've taken my house—you can have it."

  "Not taken. It was given."

  Tess's mouth fell open. "Given? Are you crazy?"

  The Queen's shrug was eloquent and beautiful. The pixies forming her gown shifted with her, scarlet and gold and bronze with the season, their thin fingers and mouths moving, always moving, caressing their Queen.

  "Call it what you will. The fact remains that you abandoned your home to us. You left it tonight and the fae took your place. The same way Aaron was abandoned. And all the others. The fae feast upon human leavings."