by Cat Marsters
“Eibhlis,” Ell growled. “She’s such a piece of work! Didn’t she get into mega trouble for imprisoning a human against its will?”
“Yes,” I said, thinking of said human, a feisty pirate Queen who’d been set free by a young wizard of my acquaintance.
A wizard who had been taking on my Sundown duties while I was in New York. Duties that had included information for a goblin assassination.
I scrambled to my feet. “Con!”
“What, sweetie?”
“Con! He’ll know.” I frowned. “And I should warn him, too.”
“Who’s Con?” Tadgh asked, a touch suspiciously.
“A wizard I know,” I said. “He’ll know -- I have to go.”
“Now?”
Now the idea was in my head, I couldn’t shake it. Con had been doing some background work on a goblin assassination: that was all I knew. He might know something that could help us here.
And he might be in danger.
I’ve spent too long among humans. I shouldn’t give a damn about Con and his scary girlfriend. I shouldn’t be thinking of them fondly, like friends, because I helped them get together. I’m Fae, and they’re mortals. Like cattle.
But I still have to warn him.
“Aura --” Tadgh said, but the sound was lost as I concentrated hard and flashed myself three thousand miles across the Atlantic, across England, to a tiny village by the North Sea.
Con lived in a tiny fisherman’s cottage, and by concentrating hard I landed in his bedroom. It was dark, the middle of the night in England, a fact I’d forgotten before I flashed in, and it took me a second to focus my eyes on the tangled heap of limbs in the bed.
They were curled together, Lily looking much smaller and softer than she did when she was awake. I guess with all that ferocity it’s hard to tell she’s just a girl. Her head rested on Con’s chest, her beaded dreads very dark against his pale skin. His arms were wrapped tightly around her, very tightly, as if he were afraid someone was going to take her from him.
A pang of jealousy, of wanting someone to hold me like that, ripped through me, and I shook it away. I was being silly, sentimental. Not very Fae at all.
I cleared my throat.
They carried on sleeping.
I coughed.
Nothing.
Rolling my eyes, I reached out and knocked sharply on the bedroom door. Lily’s eyes snapped open, and her hand shot out and grabbed the knife on the bedside table. Con, useless sod that he is, came awake with a splutter and stared blearily at me.
“Fae,” Lily spat in her guttural accent, “get out of here.”
Con squinted at me. “Aura?” He pulled the covers over himself and Lily, and pushed her knife arm down gently. “Don’t you knock?”
“I did.”
“Traditionally, knocking is done from the outside.”
“I was in a hurry. Con, that goblin assassination you did. Who was it on?”
Con blinked at me. Useless humans!
“He doesn’t have to tell you anything,” Lily said, glaring at me.
Did I say she looked soft and small before? Ha. Eyes open, animated, she looked vicious. She was vicious. “No, but if he’s of a mind to remember who introduced him to his future wife, he’ll be kind and tell me.”
Con rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand. “I didn’t do the assassination. Masika did.”
“Right, but you did the background info. Who ordered the assassination?”
“Why do you want to know?” Lily demanded.
“Because a goblin just showed up trying to kill Ell. You know Ell?” I asked Con, who regarded me guardedly. “Seelie prince. The only Seelie prince.”
“Why would a goblin want to kill the Seelie prince?” Con said. “Surely he’d know what that would mean?”
“He was ordered to do it,” I said. “By his king. Masgar.”
Con’s eyes narrowed. “Masgar? Masgar is the king?”
“He surely is. And how do you know of him?”
“He’s kind of a lunatic. He hired Sundown to kill the old king.”
“Why can’t you faeries ever do your own dirty work?” Lily sneered.
“Politics,” I said.
“That and you can’t lie when you’re asked if you did it,” Con said. I shrugged. “Why the feck would Masgar want to kill the Seelie prince?”
“He had a bargain,” I said. “With an Unseelie princess.”
Con groaned. “Don’t tell me they’re all insane.”
“No. Just the one.”
I held his gaze and watched the realization come over his face.
“No,” he said. “No.”
“Yes,” I said wearily, “yes.”
“No and yes what?” Lily said. “Sometimes you talk a whole different language.”
“It’s Eibhlis,” I told her. “She’s responsible for all this.”
“But I thought -- didn’t the Unseelie Queen strip her of all her powers?”
“Yes,” I said.
“But how --?”
“I don’t know,” I said, sighing. “I don’t know. I just wondered if you could shed any light on it.”
Con’s head fell back against the pillow. He closed his eyes. “I swear, you Fae are all crazy,” he said.
“Yes, we are.”
“I have no idea. I’m just… Masgar had the old goblin king killed, and then forged an alliance with Eibhlis?”
“Yep.”
“What’s he getting from it?”
“Support of the Unseelie Court. Or at least an Unseelie royal.”
“And what’s in it for her?” Lily asked, having apparently decided I wasn’t out to get her or Con.
I raised my palms. “I have no fucking clue. She wants to take over the world.”
Con went pale. “Even she’s not that crazy.”
“History is full of people who want to take over the world,” Lily said. She glanced at me and added proudly, “I discovered the Internet.”
“Good for you. Check out the porn. Con, you know her better than I do. Do you really think she wants…” I swallowed. It was an awful concept. “Wants Unseelie domination?”
Con pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is it true about the Seelie princess? That she’s eloped with an Unseelie?”
“Yes.”
“And the only Seelie heir left is your friend Ell?”
“Yes.”
“And -- isn’t he gay?”
“Yes.”
“Then may the gods have mercy on us all, ’cause you lot sure as hell won’t.”
That seemed like a pretty good précis to me. “Remember I’m trying to stop this,” I warned him. “I’m on your side.”
“Like we believe you,” Lily said.
“She’s a Fae, Lil,” Con said. “She can’t lie.”
“Bet she could if she wanted to.”
Lily glared at me, and I glared back. She might be a pirate Queen, but I’m High Court Fae, and I have the edge.
Usually.
“Okay,” I said. “So I need to speak to this Masika. See if she knows anything.”
“Well, at least she’ll be awake,” Con said, and gave me her address. “Oh, and Aura?”
“Yes?”
“Put some clothes on.”
I looked down and realized I was only wearing Tadgh’s shirt, which wasn’t fastened. Crap.
Con laughed, and I flashed myself out.
Masika lived in an ugly, run-down warehouse in a part of London that’s usually on fire. I didn’t hold out much hope for what I’d find there, but when I flashed myself inside, which took quite an effort of will since I usually have to be able to visualize where I’m going, I was surprised to see it fitted out quite comfortably.
I didn’t know anything about Masika except that she’d been with Sundown since forever. All the windows in the warehouse were blacked out and a good portion of the living quarters were underground. Vampire? I could certainly sense one. But it was a male vampire,
big and old and powerful.
So I knocked before I flashed in.
Chapter Five
He was lounging on the sofa, watching TV with the sound turned down. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Cute.
“It bothers me,” he said without looking round, “that these vampires disintegrate when staked. Vampires don’t disintegrate. We lie there and molder just like everyone else.”
“Nice,” I said. “Thank you so much for sharing.”
“What are you doing in my house, Fae?”
I hate vampires. They’re so damn cool and smug. Yeah, you’ve been around forever, you’re all strong and butch with the mind-controllingness. Wow. Like I’m so helpless.
And yet…
And yet, they just make me feel inadequate. Silly, frivolous, petty. Like they have gravitas and I’m a flighty twit. This particular vampire had only said a couple of dozen words to me and already I felt ridiculous.
“I’m looking for Masika.”
“She’s not here.” He turned up the volume on the TV, and I felt like a schoolchild being dismissed.
I stood my ground though. I’m not silly and flighty. I’m not.
Usually.
“I can still smell Fae,” the vampire said, boredl y. “Why is that?”
“Because I’m still here,” I said.
“Yes. Amend that.”
“Look, don’t you order me around. You’ve got absolutely no right to --”
“You’re in my house, Fae. That means I have every right.”
I scowled at the back of his head.
“And don’t make that face at me. It really spoils your looks.”
Bastard.
“All right,” I said. “Would you please tell me where Masika is? Or how I can get hold of her?”
He sighed and turned the TV off, finally turning to face me. The vampire was golden blond; a strong, handsome face with blazing blue eyes. He was shirtless and barefoot, dressed only in worn blue jeans that showed more than they concealed. Broad shoulders. Tight pecs. Hard abs.
Pretty damn lickable. If I wasn’t otherwise preoccupied.
“You can’t,” he said.
“Why not?” Oh fuck, had she been killed and I hadn’t heard? I really ought to have gone through Magda to find out, only it was the middle of the night and she’d get pissy with me --
“She’s on a plane.” He gazed at me boredly. “What do you want with her?”
“Some -- information.” I wasn’t sure how much he knew about Masika’s employment.
“Well, it ain’t available.” He stared at me some more and I remembered I was only wearing Tadgh’s shirt, although it was at least covering the pertinent parts of me now. I knew I smelled of sex too.
Defiantly, I crossed my arms and glared at him.
He laughed.
“Nice try, Fae, but I don’t swing that way. I prefer my lovers with souls.”
I growled low in my throat. “So says the vampire.”
“You mustn’t believe everything you see on TV. I’ve a soul as much as the next person.” He considered this. “Unless the next person is you.”
“I have a soul!”
“But it’s a twisted Fae one, and that doesn’t count.” In one graceful motion almost too fast for me to see, he was on his feet and facing me. “What information do you need from Masika?”
What she sees in you, I thought. “It’s about a goblin assassination she did,” I said instead.
“Grempiln the goblin king? Cut and dried. One of his generals paid her to do it. Plausible deniability and all that. You can go now.”
“I really need to speak to her about it.”
He sighed irritably, waving at the door. “Then call her.”
“I don’t have her number.”
“I don’t care.”
I glared at the vampire. “Fine,” I said. I could call Magda for it in the morning. Stupid pissy vampires. I hate vampires. Have I mentioned that?
I started to flash myself out, but nothing happened. I tried again. Still nothing. Like trying to start a car with an empty tank.
Empty -- aw, shit.
“Shouldn’t you be gone now?” the vampire said from behind me.
“I’m going,” I said, and tried again.
“No, you’re not.” There was the click of a crossbow behind me, and I turned to see him leveling a bow loaded with a sharpened wooden stake.
“Uh, aren’t stakes for vampires?”
“They tend to kill most things.”
“It’s iron for Faeries.”
He hefted another bow, this one loaded with the dull gleam of a Fae’s greatest enemy. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“Look, I’m trying to go,” I said, a touch desperately.
“Try harder.”
“It’d be a hell of a lot easier without you pointing weapons at me!”
He didn’t move.
“Look,” I said again. “I just flashed myself all the way over here from New York.”
“Well done. I’m very proud of you.” He flicked the safety off the iron bow, and I started to panic.
“Okay, all right, I’ll go outside. But it has to be below freezing out there.”
“It’s at least five degrees.”
“Oh, right, and to you British that’s sunbathing weather.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I happen to be Greek.”
I stomped over to the heavy, reinforced steel door. It wouldn’t budge.
“You want me to leave, you’re going to have to open this door,” I said, and he kind of waved at it. It opened.
“Very nice,” I said, and clomped outside with one final glare at him. Masika could keep him. If she was half as sociopathic as him, they deserved each other.
“Gonna be fun chatting with her tomorrow,” I said as the door slammed shut behind me, and I found myself in the chilly London autumn, barefoot and bareassed on the street.
“I hate vampires!” I yelled.
The Buffy theme tune answered me.
Fine. Just fine. I’d make it home… somehow. The problem was that teleporting was like normal traveling in that the greater the distance traveled, the more energy would be needed. I’d just zapped myself five thousand miles across the Atlantic. While that might have tired me a little, it had been a one-way trip. There was no way I’d have enough energy for the return. I might be able to make it as far as Cornwall, or Wales, on the energy I had left, but not much further west. And I’m not much of a swimmer.
“Crap!” I stomped my foot on the freezing pavement. Five degrees my ass.
Conventional transport wasn’t an option. Quite apart from the fact that humans set such store by documentation, I was wearing a man’s shirt and nothing else. I’d freeze before I even got to an airport.At least I wasn’t full Seelie. Ell can’t even bear to go outside during the winter in the northern hemisphere. He migrates to Australia, follows the sun.
Follows the sun…
I had an idea. Stonehenge couldn’t be more than a couple of hundred miles from here, right? I could get there without a huge effort of will. And even outside the Solstices, those stones held a lot of power. Why do you think they don’t let tourists touch them? It’s not about preservation. It’s about power.
I concentrated hard on the grand circle of stones, well known and beloved to anyone with even a drop of Fae blood in them, and landed in the middle of the henge.
It was even colder here. Fucking freezing, in fact. There were no walls, no buildings to keep the wind from whipping in off the plain, no central heating or traffic to warm the place up.
I spread my feet, raised my arms and drew in the power of these ancient stones. The shape is a focus, like a huge satellite dish for magic. I didn’t have a huge amount left in me, drained as I was by the long trip over the sea, and then the shorter one to the stones. But such is the power of the henge that what little I had was amplified hugely, until my skin tingled and glowed and my whole body buzzed.
A magical rush can
be quite sexual. The power flowed into me, around me, filling me, and like any power it was hugely enjoyable. I raised my arms, shaking, and bared my breasts to the moonlight. The power caressed me, every nerve highly sensitized, and when I finally gathered enough together and zapped myself into the air, over the stones, across the plains, the villages, the cities, the beaches and the sea, across the harbor and the skyscrapers and the green of the park and the trees and the leaves and the steps of the brownstone, faster than a single thought, an orgasm ripped through me, stealing my borrowed power and combusting it inside me.
I collapsed in a boneless heap on the carpet, incapable of movement.
Footsteps sounded nearby. My eyes were closing.
“Aura?”
Someone knelt beside me. I couldn’t stay awake.
“Aura? What the fuck happened?”
“Tired,” I mumbled. “Lon’ journey.”
He pulled me into his lap and I dredged together enough energy to open my eyes. There was Tadgh, so handsome and strong, holding me as if I were breakable. He brushed my hair from my face.
“Where have you been?”
“Enlgl -- Engal -- En -- Lonnon.”
“London?”
“Mmm.” My eyes slipped closed again.
“All in one night? No wonder you’re exhausted. I’ll flash you to bed.”
“No!” I moaned, my arm flailing wildly as I tried to catch hold of him to stop him. “No flashing.”
Tadgh murmured something about me flashing enough for the both of us that I think may have been a reference to what I wasn’t wearing.
“You seen it all ’fore,” I mumbled, head lolling. Tadgh gathered me into his arms and I snuggled against him, comfortable and warm as he carried me through the house and up to bed. “’Night.”
He laid me in sweet-scented sheets. “Goodnight, darling,” he said, and just as I slipped into unconsciousness I felt his lips brush my forehead.
* * *
I didn’t wake fully until late the next morning, but I floated near the surface once or twice. The first time I was brought there by a surge of magic that made me feel vaguely nauseous, like the scent of booze when you’re hungover. Usually magic makes me feel shiny. But not right now.
I heard Tadgh’s soft voice from very close by. He was holding me, I realized, cradling me as I slept. A wave of affection swamped me, and I missed what he actually said.
