“At least promise you won’t take the king’s bargain.”
Some of the brown seeped back into her irises. She set a hand on his cheek. “I can’t promise that. Luc is clan, one of my brother’s lieutenants. But more than that—we grew up together. I won’t leave without him. Not when it’s my fault he’s here.”
“The hell it’s your fault. He’s an adult; he makes his own choices. And I’d bet if he was here right now, he’d tell you to save yourself.”
“Maybe. But…” She moved a shoulder. “He’s in love with me. I knew he’d follow me, but I just had to prove I could do this.”
Something dark made his fingers tighten on her arm. “Is he your mate?”
“No.” Her gaze flew to him, startled. “I…don’t feel the same.”
That was something, at least. He blew out a breath. “Look, I have to go back anyway. At least let me get you safely inside. But we have to hurry. The best time to slip through the portals undetected is at dawn or dusk when the guard changes.”
“No. Now let me go.” She looked pointedly at his hand.
He hesitated, knowing he should let her go and yet unable to. And the awful thing was, he wasn’t sure how much was him and how much was the geas.
“Goodbye, Fane.” She wrenched herself from his grip and took a step back, her eyes sad but determined.
He opened his mouth and then shut it again as the truth struck him like a boot to the gut. She didn’t trust him. And she was right, because he wasn’t sure how far he could go before the geas made him betray her.
Sorrow stabbed through him. His throat felt too thick to breathe.
In accepting the geas, he’d lost her before he’d ever even had her.
He curled his fingers into his palms to keep himself from reaching for her. “Go, then,” he said through numb lips.
She set off for the castle at a jog. He watched her go with the hungry eyes of a man who’d lost everything, including his self-respect.
Suddenly, she stilled, slim body taut, her eyes trained on a slight rise a hundred yards away. She’d never appeared so catlike.
His scalp lifted. “Jani? What is it?”
She slashed her hand downward. “Quiet.”
A high-pitched, excited shrieking came on the wind. Goblins.
What the fuck? Why would the king order Fane to return and then allow Blaer to send her little fiends after them? But there was no time to ponder that.
He raced across the grass, scooped up Marjani and turned to run back to the cavern. But they were surrounded, the small, fur-clad beings hurtling at them from every direction.
“We have to fight.” She twisted out of his arms. “Here.” She shoved the dagger into his hand and stood back to back with him, her switchblade ready.
“Hell.” He looked from the dagger to the goblins racing across the tundra. “You think I know how to use this thing?”
“It’s iron. Aim for the eyes. The poison will slow them down.”
“I have a better idea.” Gripping the dagger, point out, he reached back with his other hand, looped his fingers through Marjani’s belt loops and made the two of them invisible, a shadow on the tundra. “They can’t see us now,” he whispered.
“Works.” She kept her eyes on the goblins, who had slowed to a creep, chittering in puzzlement to each other.
Marjani lashed out, stabbing the closest ones in the throat. Unable to see her, they fell at her feet, dead. Even Fane managed to take out a goblin that had practically run straight into his dagger.
The rest fell back, muttering to each other. Fane and Marjani stilled, scarcely daring to breathe. But they were surrounded by the dead goblins’ bodies. Even goblins—who weren’t the brightest creatures on the planet—could deduce where they must be. With a gleeful roar, the remaining goblins piled on.
Razor-sharp teeth sank into Fane’s arm. Black claws raked over his face. Behind him, he heard grunts as Marjani’s blade found a few more of their attackers.
But ten more goblins took their place, dragging Fane to the ground. Marjani was torn from his grip. He lost his focus, and they both became visible again.
He glanced up to see Blaer had ’ported onto the boulders. The blond hair whipping around her face didn’t hide her smug smile.
Then a rock smashed into his temple and everything went black.
27
Fane was down, his head bloody. Marjani’s breath hitched.
Please let him be okay. Don’t let me lose him, too.
Because walking away from him had been right up there with one of the hardest things she’d ever done in her life. But how could she trust a man under Sindre’s geas?
The goblins kept coming, so she couldn’t even check if he was still breathing. Snatching up the dagger, she grimly fought on, a blade in each hand.
But the vicious little creatures seemed to multiply like rabbits. For every goblin she killed, two more sprang forward to take its place. Biting and gouging her, until she was bleeding from multiple wounds and their sour stench filled her nostrils.
They climbed each other to leap at her until a blow knocked her to her knees beside Fane’s prone body. Her knives went flying. She scrabbled for them, but the dagger was too far away, and she didn’t know where the switchblade was.
A stir in the air made her lift her head. Blaer had ’ported in, although she chose to perch on the rocks above the fray. Marjani snarled and inched her way toward the dagger. It wasn’t a throwing knife, but she thought she could still hit her mark.
There. She had it.
A shadow near Blaer’s leg moved and became a wolf—a wolf with Luc’s eyes and a quartz hanging from its neck.
The fae lady set a hand on his head—and smiled.
“No.” Marjani wasn’t sure if she’d whispered or shouted. She leapt to her feet and aimed the dagger at Blaer’s throat.
A small body slammed into her legs at the same time another landed on her back. Wiry arms wrapped around her wrist, pulling her arm down so that the dagger hit a boulder instead of Blaer. Long nails raked down Marjani’s body, ripping through her clothes to dig into her skin.
Marjani spun in circles, trying to knock them off, but they kept piling on until she fell flat on her stomach. Maddened with pain and the goblins’ high-pitched shrieks, the cat forced its way to the surface. Bloodlust filled her, hot and red. She shifted partway, teeth elongating and claws sprouting from her fingertips, and fought as her animal. Sinking her teeth into the goblins’ squat necks. Ripping open their soft bellies with her claws.
Someone moved behind her. She tried to twist away, but there was nowhere to go—she was surrounded. Something hard crashed into the back of her skull and a white light exploded behind her eyes.
The next thing she knew, she lay curled on her side, looking through bars.
Shiny iron bars.
Marjani swallowed, her mouth still filled with the bitter taste of the goblins’ blood. She scrubbed a hand over her lips and tried not to wretch.
She was fully human again and lying on a sheepskin. Not touching the iron directly, but she still felt like crap from the poisonous metal already seeping into her. Not to mention that her body was bruised and bloodied from the fight with the goblins.
From its place against her thigh, her quartz hummed a healing song, valiantly doing what it could, but with the iron surrounding her, the best she could hope for was to maintain.
And the decoy quartz around her neck was gone.
She lifted her head. Pain lanced her brain. The room swooped around the cage, leaving her shaking and nauseated.
“Jani.” In the next cage, Fane crouched on his haunches, his clothing in shreds, his face a mass of bruises and an egg-sized lump on his temple. “You all right?”
She closed her eyes and concentrated on not throwing up. Even talking was difficult through her swollen mouth.
“Yeah,” she managed to say. “And you?”
“I’ve been better.” Even with her eyes closed, sh
e somehow knew his mouth had kicked up in his trademark wry grin.
“Blaer?” She spoke the fae lady’s name, because what did it matter if she drew her attention?
“We’re alone for now, except for the black wolf. I’m not sure if he’s still alive, though. He hasn’t moved once in the last half hour.”
Corban could go fuck himself. It was Luc she was worried about. She made herself ask. “Luc?”
“No. It’s only us three.”
“No. She has…him. I saw.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry.”
Her chest constricted. Luc had been there for her through thick and thin, patiently waiting for her to grow up and choose him as her mate. For a while, she’d thought maybe… But no. It had been some time since she’d known she just didn’t think of him in that way.
But even though she’d told him that, he’d stubbornly insisted on waiting. Hoping.
Tears seeped from her eyes. She cried not because she loved Luc, but because she didn’t—at least, not in the way a woman loves her mate. And now he was under Blaer’s control. If only she hadn’t been so hellbent on proving she still had what it took to be Adric’s second, he might still be back in Baltimore.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” murmured Fane. “There’s a canteen next to you. Drink. It’s just water.”
Without opening her eyes, she felt for it. The first thing she did was rinse her mouth and spit out the water through the bars of the cage. Then she took a few small sips, needing the fluid but afraid her stomach would rebel. The water soothed her swollen mouth, and she managed to keep it down.
She capped the canteen and set it back down before lifting her hand to explore the bump on the back of her skull. It was caked with dried blood, but at least it was no longer bleeding.
Next, her hand went to her front pocket. Her stomach lurched as she confirmed that she’d lost both the switchblade and the dagger. Even her stiletto would’ve been something, but she’d tossed it to Luc. She was defenseless.
Panic clawed her nape. Behind her eyelids, black spots danced.
“Hey.” Fane’s voice. “You still with me?”
She dropped her hand back to the sheepskin. Answer him.
But she couldn’t seem to summon up the energy.
He muttered something harsh. “Shift, damn it. You’ll heal faster.”
True. But there was a reason she shouldn’t. She feared letting the cat out, weak and exhausted as she was.
She lifted heavy eyelids. This time, the room remained steady.
And at least her quartz was still safe in her cargo pants. The pocket’s flap had ripped, but by some miracle, the zipper had held. She set a hand over the material covering it and concentrated on not throwing up.
Fane had dropped onto his hands and knees. His whole body spoke of his worry for her. “Jani. You need to shift.”
“Can’t,” she said between swollen lips.
“Why the fuck not?”
“Not…in control.”
His forehead creased. “What do you mean?”
“Cougar…wants to take over.”
“So? You won’t let it.”
She gave a mirthless chuckle. “Not…that simple.”
“Screw that.” Blue eyes blazed into hers. “You can. I know you can.”
For some damn reason, she believed him. She wriggled out of the tattered sweater first. Someone had removed her boots. She eased her briefs and pants down her legs at the same time, taking care with the deep slash on her right thigh, and then pulled off her socks.
Next came her T-shirt. Just pulling it over her head made her go blind with pain. A moan escaped her lips. She curled into a panting, agonized ball, and then gritted her teeth and dragged off her bra, too.
“That’s my girl,” Fane said.
She growled, low and mean, but he just winked back.
Sitting cross-legged on the sheepskin, she dug her quartz out of the pocket. Holding it to her heart, she opened herself to the shift.
Another wave of nausea rolled through her. She clenched her jaw and kept trying. Her quartz warmed against her chest, but the energy level was dangerously low. That was bad—she’d counted on drawing on the tiny crystals to help her through the shift. She estimated she had a fifty-fifty chance of succeeding.
She swallowed dryly. Should she risk it?
But for once, her cat’s independence served her. It surged up, determined to be out. For a few frightening seconds she wavered between human and cat—and then she was crouched on the sheepskin as her cougar.
“Excellent,” said Fane.
She twitched her tail, pleased with both herself and him.
Already she felt better. The shift had healed the minor cuts and bruises, including her swollen mouth. Even her head ached less.
Her sharp hearing detected a faint heartbeat to her right. Corban—alive, but close to death.
She gave her injured thigh a few soothing licks and then settled onto the rug, positioning her center over her quartz. The healing energy hummed through her, sinking into her very bones. If she could just get out of this fucking cage, she could go looking for Luc. But the iron continued to sap her energy.
Fane lay down on his rug with a sigh. She eyed him anxiously. He was hurt bad—worse than her. His heartbeat was slow and uneven, and blood seeped from cuts and gashes all over his body, its sharp iron-and-silver scent filling her nostrils.
The cat yowled and flexed its claws, frantic to go to him. It couldn’t understand why it couldn’t batter itself against the cage door until it broke.
Bad. Too much blood. The man needs help.
Marjani mentally stroked its head. Iron, she told it. Bad magic.
“Love you,” Fane rasped.
The cat purred, liking the sound of that. Beneath Marjani’s abdomen, the quartz hummed joyfully against her heart.
Love? She didn’t know about that, but Fane was hers in some way she didn’t want to examine too deeply.
Ours, the cat agreed.
But it was bad that the man was in an iron cage. He needed to get out, to heal.
And then the thing Marjani most feared happened. The cougar wrenched control from her.
28
The cat whined and pushed itself up on all fours.
The human was too cautious. Maybe battering itself against the cage wouldn’t help, but it couldn’t just lie there and do nothing. And it might bring that fae bitch running, and then the cat could sink its teeth into her.
“Jani?” The blond man with the good smell lifted his head. “What are you doing?”
The cougar flung itself against the door. The iron bars seared its fur. It fell back on the sheepskin, wheezing.
“No!” He pushed himself up on his forearms. “It’s okay—honest. I know you can smell the blood, but don’t forget, I’m a quarter fae. The cuts are already closing up.”
Rising back onto all fours, the cat swung its head in the man’s direction. A deep inhale confirmed he spoke the truth. The terror eased.
“Rest, now.” A soft command. “If you want to help me, you have to heal first.”
Calmer, but still agitated, the cat snarled at the locked door. It still wanted to go to him. It needed to go to him.
“Please, Jani.” His gaze snagged the cat’s. “Calm down. I can’t stand for you to get hurt any worse.”
Jani? The name belonged to the human part. The woman.
The cat turned it over in its mind. A cougar had no name—or need of one.
It shook its head. The cage pressed in on it from every direction. Something wild and primitive screamed for it to beat itself bloody against the bars. But the man was right—it needed to heal first. Then when the woman who had dared put the cat and its man in a cage returned, it would be ready.
The cat settled back onto the rug.
“That’s it,” the man said. “Rest.”
The cat was tired. So tired… Its eyes shut and it dozed.
Time passed. An hour, maybe two. The
cat had little use for the way humans marked time.
“Jani. Jani? Wake up, damn it. Someone’s coming.”
The cat jerked awake just as the heavy oak door banged open. The cat snapped up its quartz, hiding it in the pocket of its cheek. No way was that bitch getting her hands on its real quartz.
But it wasn’t Blaer, it was a big, bearded redhead with the acrid silver scent of a pureblood.
The cat lifted onto its forepaws, growling a warning.
“That woman has gone too far,” the redhead declared in ringing tones. “Caging the fada is one thing. But my own bloody grandson?”
Words. But they might be important. The cat allowed its Marjani-part to surface enough to understand.
“I agree,” said a silky voice. The fae king with the cold gray eyes followed him into the room. “My apologies, Roald.”
Roald? From Marjani, the cat got a picture of a fierce redhead who captained the fae king’s warriors. Another picture told the cat that the warrior could conjure fae balls, the fae version of grenades. Take a direct hit, and you were toast.
The Marjani-part blinked. Fane was Lord Roald’s grandson?
The man—Fane—pushed up onto his knees and glared at both fae, his heart beating hard and fast. He was too hurt to be moving.
The cat rose, anxious to go to him. To make him better.
More talk from the two purebloods. Then the king snapped his fingers and Fane’s cage opened. He half-crawled, half-fell out and then, with a pained grunt, drew himself up to his full height.
“The boy needs healing,” snapped the redheaded fae.
The fae king inclined his head. A fog-message formed in his palm and then disappeared. Thirty seconds later, a tall blonde with the serene presence of a healer entered the tower. Clucking her tongue at Fane’s injuries, she set a hand on his back and urged him to sit.
“I’ll stand.” Fane glanced at the cougar. It could feel him willing it to trust him. That he’d get it out of the cage.
The cat stilled, its gaze flicking between him and the cold-eyed king.
“As you wish.” The blond healer kept her hand on the small of Fane’s back. Magic hummed in the air.
Charming Marjani Page 18
