by Anya Bast
Charlotte darted off the rock and straight to Kieran’s side. “There’s a woman in the water.”
“She’s the Lady of the Lake. She guards this place and she’s benevolent, don’t worry. Well, unless you try to harm her territory, then she gets a little tetchy.”
“Tetchy.” She put a hand to her head, which had begun to throb dully.
“If you should ever meet a horse in these woods, by the way, never ride it. No matter how tempted you may be.”
“Should I ask why?”
“They’re water horses. You may know them as kelpie. They’ll ride you straight into the nearest body of water and drown you.”
Just then the Lady of the Lake emerged from the water wearing a flowing white gown that rustled in the wind as though dry. She blinked her large, watery eyes. “My name is Áine. I ask of the female if I may be of service?”
Charlotte stared at the woman, mouth hanging open. “Kieran?”
“Yes.”
“I’d like to go back to the Black Tower now.”
GIDEON walked to his office, his shiny black shoes tapping on the polished floor of Phaendir Headquarters. All of his people were in their offices, heads down, working hard. Just the way he wanted it.
A tall, thin, narrow-nosed man came down the corridor opposite him. Brother Merion, the one he was grooming to be his second-in-command. Gideon met his shiny bright blue eyes, eyes that held respect for him and his cause, reverence, even awe.
Brother Merion inclined his white-blond head a little. “Greetings, Brother Gideon. May Labrai guide your every step.”
Gideon inclined his head. “As He guides yours.”
Brother Merion was one of his people. They were all his people. The moment he’d ousted Brother Maddoc, he’d taken stock of all the Phaendir, even the secretaries and janitors, who worked in this building. He’d removed the ones who didn’t suit him, the ones who had followed Maddoc a little too closely for his liking. The ones who wanted mercy for the fae. There were way too many of them, that being Maddoc’s doing, of course. After he’d weeded out the weak and the nonbelievers, he’d replaced them with his own people—the righteously motivated.
They had serious work to do and there was no place for the faith-challenged in it.
He had almost everything he wanted, almost everything he’d been working toward his entire life. If only the U.S. government would see his reasoning, then he’d have it all.
In the hallway outside his door—his door, not Maddoc’s—he took a moment to admire the plaque with his name on it. He would have reached up and touched the smooth gold lettering, but he worried someone might see him. He needed to act cool and aloof—in control.
A folder sat on the top of the heavy oak desk. He settled into his comfy leather chair and flipped it open, examining some of the work he had to do that day.
His life was perfect, but for a few notable exceptions. There was the issue of Emily, to be sure. Her real name was Emmaline Siobhan Keara Gallagher. He’d fallen in love with her and she’d turned out to be a stinking fae. Once he’d found that out, all the adoration he’d felt had instantly transformed to white-hot hatred, so she hadn’t broken his heart as much as she’d made him want to take several hot showers to get the taint off.
And kill her. That was still on his to-do list.
Then there was his agenda regarding the fae. He knew it would be difficult to push it to the U.S. government, but, really, the problems he was having were ridiculous. Didn’t they understand what a threat the fae posed to them? Maddoc had let things spiral out of control. The fae now only lacked one piece of the bosca fadbh. They already had the Book of Bindings. If they were able to open the back of that book, they would find the power to break the hive mind of the Phaendir and destroy the walls of Piefferburg.
Humanity would once again be prey to the goblins, boggarts, killmoulis, red caps, and nagas. Was that not cause for alarm? Yet they sat on their hands, they stalled legislation, they argued, debated, held town meetings, and lobbied. Both sides twisted the issue to support their own causes and ended up doing nothing.
Honestly, dealing with the U.S. government was like having Maddoc back in charge. Ineffective, soft, and far too merciful.
Then there was the damn HFF. David Sullivan and his Labrai-damned followers. They marched on Washington every time the government sneezed in a positive direction toward one of the bills that could mean effective action against the fae. When they weren’t marching on Washington, they were assaulting Protection City with their slanderous filth. It was that stupid amendment in the constitution that allowed it. Gideon had been around when they’d written that thing. He’d had contempt for it then and nothing had changed.
Now that Maddoc was gone, he ruled the gates of Piefferburg City with an iron fist. The government would not allow him to completely prevent humans from entering if they wished. That stupid freedom thing again. But he wasn’t ever going to make the same mistake again. Emily—Emmaline had fooled him with her glamour. He’d checked her background, of course, but she’d done a good job of covering her tracks. In the end she’d made a simple slipup that had outed her.
But the Phaendir learned from their mistakes. Now they went much, much deeper into all the backgrounds of the humans they admitted. The most recent one had been easy. The Bennett family was well known to the Phaendir. Charlotte Bennett’s father was a major donor to their cause. All the same, they’d double- and triple checked her. Made sure she was truly who she said she was before they’d let her in.
On top of it, they had spies in Piefferburg. Fae that would do anything for a little money, even turn in their own people. In some cases, enough money could even buy the destruction of someone. The fae wouldn’t assassinate outright. The fae couldn’t murder other fae without serious repercussions from the Wild Hunt. That was all right; there were plenty of other ways to neutralize the unwanted.
If only he had a way to neutralize David Sullivan. He was working on it, though. Oh, yes, he was. Damned man didn’t realize who he was messing with. Humans against an immortal race of druids would lose every time.
He settled into his chair, sipped at the cup of tea an underling had left on his desk, and considered the work he had to do for the day. Most of it involved doing all he could to further his agenda in the U.S. Congress. It felt a lot like beating his head against a brick wall. He wouldn’t stop doing it, though. Gideon was playing for keeps in the name of Labrai.
The fae would be exterminated, one way or another, before they had an opportunity to break those walls. Even if it meant the Phaendir defied the wishes of the government and took the matter into their own hands.
The phone rang and he picked it up. He’d gotten rid of his secretary after the fiasco with Emil—Emmaline. He didn’t trust anyone anymore. “Gideon P. Amberdoyal.”
Nothing.
“Hello? You’ve reached the archdirector of the Phaendir. Please don’t waste my time.”
“Amberdoyal.” The voice was low, male, and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
“Yes?”
“We have a mutual goal, you and I, making sure the walls around Piefferburg don’t fall.” He had a slight Irish lilt to his voice.
Gideon rolled his eyes, tossed the pen he held onto the top of desk, and leaned back in his chair. “There are many people in the world who support our endeavor.”
Silence.
Gideon leaned forward, making his chair squeak. “Listen, I’ve got a lot of work to do—”
“Many people, yes.” Pause. “Few fae.”
Gideon processed what that meant for a moment before replying. “You’re telling me you’re fae.”
“Yes, Amberdoyal, we are.”
We? “And that you’re beyond the confines of Piefferburg?”
“Is it so hard to believe that some of us may have been missed during the Great Sweep? The Phaendir is hardly infallible.” His voice carried no small amount of contempt.
He knew firsthand s
ome of the fae had been missed. Emmaline had managed to stay hidden because of her skill with glamour. Still . . . “I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care what you believe, Amberdoyal.” His voice was now a venomous hiss. “I don’t like you. I would like to kill you. The only thing keeping you alive is that we share a common goal. We can help you achieve that goal.”
“How can you help?”
“We know where the last piece of the bosca fadbh is located.”
Gideon went very still and silent.
“Amberdoyal?”
“I’m here.” He wasn’t sure if he believed anything the man on the other end of this line had to say, but he couldn’t discount it. Not now. “Where is it?”
The man laughed. “Do you really think I’d tell you the location?”
“No, of course you wouldn’t. Not when you’re lying.”
“Why would I lie about something like this?”
“There are a million different possible reasons. This could be a trap. You could want something from me. It could be pure hatred for me and the Phaendir. You could be HFF. It could be—”
The man blew out a frustrated breath. “I want to tell you location of the last piece of the bosca fadbh so you can help us ensure that none of the fae from within Piefferburg are able to obtain it.”
“None of the fae can obtain it. That’s the nature of the wards, you see? None of them can leave Piefferburg.”
“You’re so naïve. And Emmaline Siobhan Keara Gallagher? How did she do it?”
“That was a mistake of my predecessor. I’m in charge now.”
The man only laughed. “Of course. And you never make any mistakes.”
Gideon’s fingers curled around the receiver of the phone and his blood heated with fury. He could feel the veins in his temples pop out and the plastic of the phone crack. His voice came out a low hiss. “I don’t make mistakes where Piefferburg is concerned, fae. I am Labrai’s tool, His right hand. Everything I am is dedicated to the destruction of the fae, as my Lord wills. I will give my dying breath to see them all dead.” He paused. “You included.”
Silence reined between them for several moments. “Why do you hate us so much, Amberdoyal?”
“If you think I’m going to spill my deepest secrets in your ear, fae, you will be waiting until I whisper them over your time-whitened bones.”
“Crazy fuck.” He laughed. “Meet my associate in Protection City tomorrow. On the steps of the Cathedral of the Overseer. Noon.”
Gideon sputtered. He rose from his seat. “You would dare to enter Protection City, fae? You would defile the steps of the Cathedral of the Overseer?”
“We do it all the time. Be there.” The line went dead.
TEN
KIERAN watched Charlotte as she sat in the living room holding her head, a mug of tea on the coffee table in front of her. The beer buzz had apparently worn off, leaving her feeling headachy. Her long black hair hung mussed and tangled from their bike ride and the events of the day. As he studied her, she bowed her head further, closed her eyes, and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
Her boots lay discarded near her. She’d braced her bare feet on the floor to bring her knees up a little, pink painted toes nestled in the soft area rug. She had absolutely no comprehension of how lovely she was.
He shook his head. This was not a good line of thought.
“I’m never drinking alcohol again,” she groaned.
He sat down in a nearby chair. “It’s because it was fae-brewed. It packed a fae-sized wallop that most humans can’t endure.”
“Thanks for telling me that before I drank an entire mug of it.”
He shrugged. “It would have been unforgivable to turn it down.”
She looked up at him. “I have a feeling Eian gave me that beer on purpose.”
“Like many of the fae, Eian does like to sow a little chaos now and then, like Lillian said, but he also has a keen insight into what people need. Maybe he saw that you needed to loosen up a little.”
She waved her hand at him. “I don’t need to loosen up.”
Kieran grunted.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He gave another shrug. “You just seem a little high-strung, that’s all.”
“Oh, and I have no reason to be high-strung? I’ve been kidnapped, Kieran.”
“We’re not going to hurt you.”
“Correction. You have no plans to hurt me. That’s not the same thing.”
He caught her gaze and held it. “I will protect your life with all I am, Charlotte. I vow it.”
She snorted. “Why would you promise that to a woman you think hates you?”
“I don’t believe you hate us. I think you’ve been influenced by your father to fear us.”
She sat up, dropping her hands into her lap. “So now I’m weak-minded and believe anything anyone tells me?”
“That’s not what I meant.” He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “Do you ever stop fighting? You’re exhausting me.”
“For your information, my father is an upstanding member of our community. Everyone looks up to him and I love him. He’s the one who raised me. He’s the one who—”
“Taught you everything from the cradle.” He nodded. “Exactly.”
“My father has good reason to hate the fae. They targeted his line specifically for extinction.”
“Yes, so your father has claimed. Do you know why?”
She shrugged. “We don’t know. All we know is the fae hunted his ancestors down.”
“How do you know it’s true?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why would my father lie?”
“I’m not saying he’s lying. It could be a fabrication someone in your family made a long time ago, something passed on like truth.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Anything is possible, but that seems unlikely.”
“I’ve been alive a long time and I’ve never known a human family to be targeted that way by the fae.”
“And you know everything.”
Kieran groaned. “Woman, you are impossible.”
“Kieran . . .” She sighed. “I’m tired of fighting with you. My father hates the fae, really hates them, okay? As far back as I can remember he’s warned me away from them, told me horrific stories about them. Despite all that, I don’t think all the fae are evil and bad the way he does, but some of you scare me.”
“Some of us?”
She slumped down against the couch. Closing her eyes for a moment, she began to speak. “When I was a child, right after my mother died, I had recurring nightmares about the fae every single night. I can remember snippets of those dreams even now. When I see one of the fae species that were featured in them, it’s all I can do not to have a full-blown panic attack.”
He studied her. Dreams were something he knew a lot about. Sometimes recurring nightmares were powerful enough to make fissures in a person’s emotional body. “Which fae species were in your nightmares?”
“Goblins, red caps, and joint-eaters.”
He wasn’t surprised. Those were definitely the kind of fae most kids would have nightmares about. They were the most misunderstood of the fae races. “What do you think triggered them?”
She rolled her eyes. “My father’s endless stories about the evil fae, I would imagine. He started really harping on their danger after my mother died.” She shuddered. “That’s when the nightmares started. I had them for months.”
He leaned toward her. “I won’t say they were ‘just dreams,’ okay, Charlotte? I know better than anyone how real and powerful dreams can be, especially if they were coupled with something as traumatic as your mother’s death.”
She met his eyes. “Thank you for not making me feel dumb.” She licked her lips. “Every time I see a goblin or a red cap, I want to crawl out of my skin.”
He held her gaze for a long moment. As a dream wraith, he had the power to smooth over and heal fissures like the ones C
harlotte might have.
Maybe she would let him, maybe not. Judging by the tight set of her shoulders and the thin press of her lips, now was not the time to ask.
He stood. “I’m making dinner. Are you hungry?”
She looked away, shrugging. “As long as it’s not poisoned.”
He turned away with a grunt and a short laugh. “Sometimes I’m just a little tempted, woman.”
CHARLOTTE had to admit the bed in the guest room was much more comfortable than the couch. Kieran had offered her a mystery novel by one of her favorite authors before she’d gone to bed and she was now snuggled under a thick blue eiderdown and reading by the light of a small lamp on the nightstand.
The fact Kieran had known what book to give her had been a little disconcerting, but on the scale of disconcerting things that had happened to her lately, it was on the low end. When he’d handed the novel over, he’d told her that he wanted her to be as at ease here as possible and to make herself at home.
She was pretty sure that offer didn’t extend to leaving his apartment.
That said, as kidnappings went, this had to be one of the milder ones, at least where her fear level was concerned. Despite everything Kieran had subjected her to so far, she had to admit she wasn’t scared of him.
Of course, she had no idea if the “remembering” magick they planned to use on her would be as benign. They wanted her to recall things she had no business recalling—memories that weren’t hers, locked away in her genetic material. It was just flat out weird. At the moment she was trying to roll with it—and not think too much about it. That way lay insanity.
Outside her door she could hear Kieran moving around his apartment even though it was very late. It was really too bad, all of this. Had he been human, and not the dark fae he was, she would have found him extremely intriguing. Of course, even if Kieran had been human, he wasn’t exactly the kind of man she could bring home to meet her father. No long-haired, motorcycle-riding, beer-offering men for daddy’s little girl.
