The Darkest Night

by Emma V. Leech

  He remembered every detail, the chill of the night air against his skin as he hurried through the dark, clutching a blanket. He remembered the sweet smell of the hay loft, the soft whicker of the horses as they greeted him, and the sound of sobbing coming from above them. He had climbed up the ladder and crept through the straw to Laen, covering him with the extra blanket.

  "It's alright, don't cry. I'm here now."

  There was an indignant snort. "I ... I wasn't crying!"

  Corin looked with confusion at the miserable figure, wondering why on earth he would deny it. "Of course you were. I would cry if my mother had died."

  There was silence and then a sniff. "Would you?" he asked, sounding uncertain.

  Corin rolled his eyes in the darkness. He simply could not understand this strange boy. What kind of person didn't cry when someone died? Corin got under the blankets to discover his new friend was shivering, and cuddled up behind him. Laen spun around, black eyes glinting with hostility in the dim light of the barn.

  "What are you doing?"

  "It's freezing,” Corin retorted, not understanding why he should freeze when he’d gone to the trouble of bringing him blankets. “I'm cold, and don't say you're not, because you're shivering. I was just warming us both up. Why shouldn't I?" he demanded, more perplexed than ever.

  "I'm not your teddy bear,” Laen growled in the darkness, sounding angry for no reason Corin could comprehend

  Corin snorted. "Well, I know that, you're not nearly soft enough!"

  "Gods!" Laen said in disgust. "You still have a bear? That's for babies."

  "Is it?" Corin asked, feeling a little troubled. He didn't want to be a baby, and his mother was always being accused of mollycoddling him, whatever that was.

  His new friend glared at him. "I don't have one."

  "Oh."

  The temperature began to fall further as Corin began to feel more uneasy. He wanted Laen to like him. If he didn't like him, he would leave, and he couldn't bear the thought of that. He wanted a friend, more than anything else in the world.

  Laen shivered and clenched his teeth together to stop them chattering. "I suppose it is rather cold," he allowed.

  Corin nodded, not daring to speak as Laen shifted a little closer. He lay beside his new friend in silence, who, this time, kept still and didn't complain. Suddenly the barn seemed a lot warmer, and Laen drifted off to sleep.

  Corin felt sleep tugging at his eyelid,s too, though before he slept, he took a moment to decide that he would let Laen borrow his bear. He obviously needed it more than he did. More importantly, though, he would do whatever it took to keep this strange boy happy. He had finally found a friend, and no matter what it took, he was not going to let him go.

  Chapter 21

  By the time Bram and company had arrived at the outskirts of Corin's home in Alfheim, everyone was in a foul mood.

  Bram himself had never encountered anyone with such bad balance as Ameena, which had meant he had to keep his arm locked firmly around her waist at all times. This situation, whilst in itself not unpleasant, was the cause of many uncomfortable sensations for both parties. The movement of her lithe, warm body against his, bearing in mind it had been far too long since he’d had anything resembling a romantic liaison, was giving Bram some serious difficulties. Ameena was obviously infuriated at discovering something she was bad at, and every time she slipped, Bram was obliged to haul her back against him once more, which only made things worse, certainly for Bram. He cursed and muttered every time she moved, which only made her all the more indignant.

  "Damn it, woman, keep still!" he managed through gritted teeth when she began wriggling once again.

  "I'm uncomfortable," she muttered in reply.

  He had almost replied that she could not possibly be more uncomfortable than him, but thought better of it. Having that shapely bottom of hers wedged firmly between his thighs was doing terrible things to his equilibrium, however, and thoughts of straying off of the path and pulling her from the horse began to torment his imagination.

  He told himself sternly to stop being so bloody ridiculous. Why he found her so tantalising, he simply couldn’t understand. She was so far removed from the type of woman he found alluring it was almost comical. He favoured petite, feminine types with fine delicate limbs and an air of fragility. He wanted someone to protect and take care of, someone with an air of innocence about them. The idea of Ameena being fragile and innocent made him snort with amusement. In reality, he had to concede that he’d found out the hard way that an air of innocence was something that could be cultivated and was often far from the truth.

  Nonetheless, Ameena was hard, foul-mouthed, and the most unladylike woman he had ever come across. A voice in his head reminded him that it was an act, at least he’d thought it was. But nonetheless, her idea of dressing was to clothe herself head to foot in unrelenting black, her eyes were fierce enough without the heavy black paint encircling them, and her temper was not to be taken lightly. The idea of taking her to bed, though ... He could not help but wonder if that temper would make her as bold and intense in that arena, too, discovering to his chagrin that the question made his blood run hot. He gritted his teeth and urged the horse on. The truth was that he’d been mad to bring her. She would never fit in here, and any sentimental thoughts he’d had of her had been idiotic. The sooner he was out of her company, the better.

  ***

  Inés looked over at Bram and Ameena with amusement. The sexual tension between the two of them was almost visible, it was so strong, and she bit back a smile. With a sigh, she wondered why she was so amused, as she wasn’t fairing a great deal better.

  Jean-Pierre had insisted on sitting behind her, not wanting to look idiotic, and he was clinging on for dear life. Much as she hated to admit it, Inés had discovered that she rather enjoyed the feel of his arms around her waist. She knew the boy had a crush on her, but although she would have been the first to admit to being a first-class bitch, cradle-snatching was not something she approved of. He couldn't be more than twenty-two, and whether or not she looked of a similar age, a woman of her considerable years was certainly more than the boy could handle. More than that, though, she had sworn never again to get involved with a human male. They were too fragile, too easily hurt, and they lived for such a brief time. She’d had her heart broken once before, after years of avoiding such entanglements. Her human lover and the father of her only daughter had been killed by a vampire. It had taken her far too many years to get over that loss. She would never put herself in that position again.

  Inés toyed with the idea of taking him to bed, just because he was sweet and it would make a change to be with someone so inexperienced. Not to mention the fact that she was lonely. But Jean-Pierre was far too enamoured of her already to accept a one-night stand and leave it at that, and she was certainly not interested in anything further. She scolded herself for even thinking it. The boy was little more than a child compared to her. Any involvement in her life would lead him into danger, as that was how she lived. She would not have his death on her conscience.

  Besides, she added, trying to force the annoying boy from her thoughts, she wanted to try to spend some time with Corin. She hoped that he would have begun to weary of his fiancée by now. He had never been faithful to anyone in his life, and she could not imagine that he was going to manage it now, especially given a little encouragement. As much as she enjoyed tormenting Bram, she really wasn’t that interested. He was pretty enough, for sure, but nothing matched the taste of power that Corin could provide.

  Now that was something worth risking your neck for.

  Elven powers when combined with the magic of a Dame Blanche had some amazing benefits. The magics recognised each other, twined together, wanted to touch each other. It made the kind of reaction which humans might call chemistry, but was so very much stronger, so much more than that - the greater the power on both sides, the stronger the pull.

  She gave a heavy sigh of l
onging, remembering the last time she’d blackmailed Corin into her bed. When Bram pushed them forward, urging the horses on to reach the grand estate of Bertulf House before nightfall, she was only too happy to follow.

  ***

  Malen beamed at Bram when he opened the door to them, greeting Jean-Pierre with warmth and ushering them into the parlour in front of the fire. Food and hot drinks were brought to them as Ameena and Jean-Pierre stared about the prince’s massive home with undisguised awe. Malen held out a silver tray to offer Bram a glass of ebony-coloured brandy.

  “Never mind that, where is Claudette?” Bram demanded, wondering why she hadn’t appeared already.

  Malen hesitated, his voice grave as he spoke. “She is with the prince, my lord, at Aos Si.”

  Bram felt his blood run cold at the idea. “What?” he demanded, wondering if the man had got that right. Surely Corin would never have allowed it? “How? Are you quite sure?”

  “Quite sure, my lord,” Malen replied as Bram took the brandy; he felt he needed it now. “She was of the opinion that his highness was in need of her, and so she left with some of the guards.”

  Bram glared at the man in fury as terror filled his chest. Anything could have happened to her. “And you let her?” he demanded, wondering what on earth was going on with Corin’s staff in his absence.

  Malen coughed and drew himself up to his full height, which may have been considerably less than Bram’s, but he returned his furious gaze with one of calm dignity. “If you will forgive me, my lord, when my Lady Claudette says she is going to do a thing, there is little that the gods themselves would be able to do to stop her, let alone her butler. I believe, in fact, that you were persuaded to take her out in search of his highness yourself, not so long ago.”

  Bram glared at him a moment longer before sighing and downing the brandy in one go. His anger subsided, if not his anxiety. “You’ve got me there, Malen, a fair point. The damned woman is stubborn beyond belief. She made it safely, though, you’re sure?”

  “Yes, she sent word as soon as she arrived,” he said, nodding, though his face remained grave. “She is with his highness.”

  Bram stood staring at the fire in silence for a moment as Malen refilled his glass. He turned as Malen gave it back to him, realising that Ameena and Jean-Pierre had been watching the whole scene as though they had front row seats at the theatre. He ignored their curiosity, turning back to Malen.

  “And what of the war?” he demanded, steeling himself for the answer, sick with foreboding.

  Malen filled him in on the events that had passed during his absence before hesitating and drawing to a close. Bram frowned and narrowed his eyes.

  “I don’t understand, Malen,” he said, frowning himself as he realised the man was keeping something from him. “He’s taken Aos Si, Claudette is with him, and yet the snow is falling still.”

  A sorrowful expression entered the man’s eyes and he took a breath, clearly not wanting to say any more. Bram’s heart dropped to his boots.

  “Laen!” he exclaimed, as an explanation presented itself. “Gods, man, is he alright? What’s happened?”

  He watched Malen’s face with growing misgiving. “As far as I know,” the butler said, apparently choosing his words with care. “Prince Laen is well.”

  “Then what?” Bram demanded as his imagination ran wild. “The devil take you, man, spit it out!” He smacked his glass down on the mantelpiece and clutched at his shoulder, which had begun to throb again, the pain making him feel tired and short-tempered.

  Malen shook his head, his expression strained as he tried to explain. “The truth is, we don’t exactly know, only ... only as I understand it, Prince Corin has the call of all three lands upon him. He has no choice but to take the Dark Fae Kingdom as well, and when the Prince Laen discovered this ...” He held his hands out, his eyes stricken and apparently unable to continue.

  “Gods,” Bram whispered, understanding completely why Alfheim was under a growing layer of snow. “Laen left?” he said, hardly able to believe it. It didn’t seem possible.

  Malen nodded and Bram made his way to the nearest chair and sank down into it. He put his head in his hands for a moment, quite unable to comprehend what had happened.

  “How long had he known?” He looked up at Malen, wondering how much the prince’s butler knew. “How long had Corin known?”

  “That we do not know,” he said, though his voice was full of defensiveness on Corin’s behalf. “The rumour from our people is that he did not know until just before he took the city, but the Dark Fae ... well, of course they are saying ...” He paused, his face darkening with anger. “I will not repeat their lies, my lord, I believe you can imagine.”

  “Yes,” Bram said, his voice low as depression settled over him. “I can imagine.” He shook his head. “He can’t have known. Corin would never have kept that from him, not for long, at least. I can only imagine the courage it took to tell Laen what he had to do.” He looked up at Malen, remembering previous instances when Laen had been beyond himself with rage. It was a formidable sight. “Can’t you?” he added.

  Malen nodded. “I can think of no one who could face the Prince Laen’s anger without grave misgivings, except perhaps his wife.”

  Bram looked up at Malen, some sixth sense tugging at him and making his blood run cold. “Where is Océane?” he demanded.

  Malen sighed and gave a helpless shrug. “She left the moment the snow started.”

  “What?” he shouted, getting to his feet and staring at Malen in horror. “But she’s with child, for the love of the gods!”

  Malen gave him a reproachful look. “I believe she may have been taking lessons from the Lady Claudette, my lord, but short of chaining her down, there was little we could do to stop her.”

  Bram swore under his breath, pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace before turning on Malen once more. “Get someone to ready a horse for me, now!”

  Malen sighed, a weight apparently lifted from his shoulders as he smiled at Bram. “It is already done, my lord. I confess, I took the liberty. I did not like to ask you after your long ride, but I would rest easier knowing that you were with her. She took a good number of men, but knowing that you were amongst their number would deter many who would perhaps make an attempt to kidnap or harm her. We have heard many terrible stories over the past hours of Light Fae soldiers on the run … and the things they have done. The countryside is not a safe place just now, and I think, perhaps, both his highness and the Prince Laen may be glad of your arrival, too.”

  Bram nodded and turned to his travelling companions. “You’ll be quite safe here. Malen here will make sure you have everything you need until … well, until things settle down. I’ll go on alone.”

  “Now?” Ameena demanded, staring at him with such concern that he admitted to feeling touched by it. “But ... but it’s still snowing, and it will be dark soon.”

  Bram smiled, wondering if she had understood anything about him and his life. “I could ride this countryside blindfolded,” he replied, wishing suddenly that he didn’t have to leave her, which was ridiculous after cursing her proximity all day. “The dark is of no concern.”

  “But what about us?” she asked, sounding uncertain and perhaps just a little bit frightened at the idea of him leaving them. “Surely Claudette will want her brother with her and … we can’t just wait here and do nothing. Will … will I see you again?”

  Bram opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say. There had been real sadness in her voice as she spoke, and he found he shared it.

  “We will follow on tomorrow,” Inés answered, her voice determined and without waiting for his reply. “Go on,” she said to him. “You go to your friends. These two will only slow you down. I will bring them safely, no harm will come to them with me around. You have my word.”

  Bram looked at her in surprise. If there was one person here he did believe could look after themselves, it was Inés. “Very well,”
he said, nodding, though he wasn’t sure he ought to allow them to go to Aos Si. “Thank you, Inés. I appreciate that.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” she said, gifting him with a sly smile. “I’ll find a way that you can make it up to me.”

  Bram grimaced, but she just chuckled before reaching into her bag and drawing out a bottle of tonic. She spoke strange, soft words, focusing her intense green gaze on the bottle as Bram noticed the strange, sweet scent of magic rise and wrap around her as she wove her spell.

  “Here.” She chucked the bottle at Bram, who caught it in one hand. “Take it. I can see your shoulder is bothering you.”

  He nodded, deciding not to thank her again before turning back to Malen. “Make sure word gets around that the La Dame Blanche, Inés Corbeaux, travels with them. I think it unlikely anyone will trouble their journey once that is discovered.”

  Malen’s eyes widened and he paled, staring at Inés in horror as he realised that was who Bram spoke of. Inés just chuckled and gave the butler a coy little wave.

  Bram sighed and wondered just how much trouble she could cause, and just how furious Corin would be with him. “Please,” he begged her. “Try not to terrify the entire household before you leave. I doubt Corin will be impressed if he returns to find his staff are all gibbering wrecks.”

  “I’ll be nice,” she said, her tone sugary sweet as she batted her eyelashes at him.

  Bram gave her a doubtful look and shook his head. “I’ll see you all in Aos Si.” Not bothering to wait for a reply, he hurried from the room.

  ***

  Claudette shivered, a mixture of cold and fear playing on her nerves as she pulled her cloak tighter around her. She kept her head up, looking straight ahead as she made her way through the Dark Fae camp. She could feel the men’s eyes upon her, and she could certainly hear their ribald and often revolting comments. She had come to know Laen of late, and though he might look like these men, she could now see how different he truly was. There was no respect here for a woman. She was jeered and insulted, the men of Corin’s guard who accompanied her subjected to the worst kind of provocation, though they bore it without so much as a flicker. The things they said about Corin, too … Her jaw tightened, but there was nothing to be gained by entering a screaming match. Men of this nature could not be reasoned with. They were bigoted, ignorant, barbaric, and no amount of reasoning would bring them around. So she kept walking. She had come here for one reason and one reason alone, and she wasn’t leaving until she’d accomplished it.