Dark Enchantment

by Anya Bast

  Something slammed hard into Kieran’s head—Doc’s forehead? Blinding agony burst through his skull and Doc wiggled out from under him and was gone.

  “Stop him!” Kieran yelled, scrambling on the floor in the direction he thought he’d gone.

  The lights came back on.

  “Stop him!” Kieran yelled again as he pushed to his feet and scanned the crowd. At his eye level all he saw were brightly colored skirts and black tuxedo pants. Doc was nowhere to be seen.

  “We’ll get him. Take care of Charlotte,” Emmaline yelled as she rushed past with Ronan and Aeric. She’d kicked off her heels and had hiked her dress up to run better.

  Charlotte.

  He turned and saw her sitting on the floor not far away, blood dripping down her throat. Bella and Risa sat beside her. He ran to her, coming to a sliding halt next to her. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, her face pale and her eyes wide. “I guess.”

  Risa met his eyes. “I think she’s just shaken up. More angry than anything else.”

  Dread gathering in the pit of his stomach despite Risa’s words, he peeled Charlotte’s hand away and examined the wound the knife had made. There was a lot of blood, but the cut wasn’t anything that wouldn’t heal relatively quickly.

  Charlotte smiled. “I landed a good elbow to his solar plexus, just like you taught me.”

  “Good. That’s good.” Gods, she’d been lucky. The element of surprise had probably helped her get away, but Doc could have just as easily jerked that knife in the wrong direction.

  He reached out and took her by the upper arms, fastening his gaze to hers. “This place is no longer safe for you. I know now it never was.”

  Bella nodded. “If whoever is behind this has stones enough to attack you at an Unseelie ball, that means they’re going to keep coming after you. This was a desperate, high-risk move.”

  “I agree. It’s time to get you out of here and I mean right now.” He helped her to her feet. “We won’t tell anyone where we’re going except those we trust the most.”

  “What about the whole memory thing?”

  He glanced at Risa. “You’ll have to meet us.”

  She patted Charlotte’s shoulder. “I’ll go wherever you direct me. Just keep her safe.”

  “You’ll tell the queen, I hope?” Bella raised her eyebrows.

  “That goes without saying.”

  Just then Emmaline and the others returned, out of breath and without Doc. “He got away,” Emmaline panted.

  Kieran pushed a frustrated hand through his hair. “Okay. At least we know what this one looks like and that he’s a null. Surely we can track down some kind of lead, either to him or to his boss.”

  Ronan nodded. “We’re already on it.” He jerked his head at Charlotte. “I presume you’re taking her away.”

  “Yeah. Right now.” He glanced at Charlotte, who looked prepared to meet the challenge ahead of them. She looked strong. That was good; she’d have to be.

  He wished like hell it wasn’t him who had to take her away. The last thing he needed was to be secluded somewhere with a woman he was coming to appreciate more with every passing day. This did not bode well, but the bond he’d forged to bring her here wouldn’t allow anyone but him to guard her for what appeared might be a long stretch of time. He’d just have to keep his distance as much as he could.

  Ah, Danu. It was going to be hard.

  He stared at Charlotte for a moment, jaw locked. “Stay with them. I have to talk with the queen.”

  A scant fifteen minutes later Charlotte sat on the back of Kieran’s bike while they hurtled through the night at a speed that made her want to vomit.

  After Kieran had talked to the queen, he’d rushed her back to his apartment and given her terse orders to pack whatever she wanted to take that would fit into a backpack. She hoped they had a Laundromat wherever they were going. Kieran wouldn’t say where that was because he didn’t want to speak the location out loud. Charlotte didn’t ask why, but she thought she knew—in case someone was listening. This was faerie, after all. She supposed they had much more interesting ways to eavesdrop than by sticking bugs under coffee tables.

  She clung to him as he drove the bike through a maze of inner city streets, backtracking and twisting and taking sudden turns. Trying to determine if they were being followed?

  Finally they made it out of the city and he upped the speed even higher. The trees of the Boundary Lands zipped past in a moonlit blur as they rocketed down what passed for a Piefferburg highway.

  Directionally challenged as she was, she couldn’t tell which way they were headed. All she knew was that she was forced to cling to Kieran for a very long time. Felt like forever. In reality, it was probably only a couple hours and change.

  Traveling to . . . well, wherever they were traveling to . . . was a little like wandering through a dream. Most of Piefferburg was rural, wooded, filled with the tiny sprae, evergreens, and nature fae. Piefferburg City—she knew from her schooling—was the largest city in the detention area. She could name their greatest imports and exports, too. They passed through quite a few little hamlets, most of them dark and asleep, but a couple of the villages seemed to be jumping as though it was bright daylight—clutches of nocturnal fae?

  At dawn they rolled into yet another village, but they stopped in this one. They pulled up to a curb and Kieran cut the engine on the bike. Charlotte immediately dismounted, groaning as she stretched her legs. After she pulled off her helmet and sucked in a couple deep breaths of non-quickly moving air, she glanced around her.

  Again she was reminded of Europe. The houses were all small, narrow, and had those funny curved clay shingles. The streets were made of cobblestone and a large stone church rose in the center of it all. Just as she was glancing around, the bell began to chime six in the morning.

  “It’s literally like a faery tale vill . . . age.” Her bemused smile faded. “What are those?” Of course, she knew what the creatures were that were currently crossing the street. Goblins. A pair of them. Her stomach clenched and she fought an urge to take a step backward. “There are goblins here?”

  “Welcome to Hangman’s Bastion.” Kieran breezed past her. “All actual faery-tale villages have them.”

  “I guess you would know.”

  “This is one of the Unseelie strongholds away from Piefferburg City. Goblins are more than welcome here.”

  “And we couldn’t find a Seelie stronghold?”

  “There aren’t any. You don’t find many of the Rose Court out in the country. They don’t like bugs or dirt. Anyway”—he gave her pointed look—“I don’t think you’d like the Seelie as much as you think you would. In fact, most goblins are far more interesting and trustworthy.”

  “I suppose that’s true. You can always trust a goblin to have you for dinner.”

  Ignoring her, he walked down the narrow, flower-lined pathway that led to a small white building. The swinging sign out front read Hangman’s Bastion Real Estate. Hangman’s Bastion? Who the hell would want to live in a place with a name like that?

  He glanced back at her. “Hurry up, they’re probably about to close.”

  She followed him inside where a totally normal-looking woman with long dark hair and skin the color of café au lait glanced up from her desk. A smile that said fresh man meat flashed across her pretty face. A sign on her desk read Elina. Elina did not acknowledge Charlotte’s existence. Of course, in her place, faced with a man like Kieran, Charlotte probably wouldn’t acknowledge her existence either. He did sort of draw all the hormones to him.

  Kieran flashed a charming smile at Elina, megawatts more charming than any smile he’d ever used on her. Charlotte scowled. He began to speak in an odd language that she had come to recognize as Old Maejian. A lengthy, laughing exchange occurred in which Elina blushed three times. Charlotte’s scowl deepened.

  Eventually the conversation produced a piece of paper, which Kieran signed. Then he pulled a wad of cas
h from his back pocket, turned it over, and received a key in exchange.

  Finally, he walked to her, waving the key. “Time to go.”

  For the first time since she’d arrived, Elina appeared to notice her and offered a smile and a wave . . . which Charlotte did not return.

  They left the building and walked back toward the bike. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked, handing her the helmet she’d left on the cycle.

  “Me? I’m fine. So, did you get her phone number?”

  He stilled. “You sound jealous. Why would you sound that way, Charlotte?”

  “I’m not jealous.” She snorted. “God, I can’t wait to be rid of you. Go lock me in that place you just rented and come back here for her. I couldn’t care less.” She pulled her helmet on.

  He stared at her for a moment longer, then pulled on his own helmet. “If you say so.”

  “I say so. Let’s go.”

  He drove the cycle though the very quaint downtown area and the other side of town. A small distance away, they turned down a narrow, wooded path. Finally the trees opened up, revealing a small house. Golden in color, with green shutters and door, it was nestled in among pretty spring flowers and greenery. He cut the engine of the bike, allowed her to dismount, and pushed the cycle around the back of the house.

  While Kieran was around back, the door opened and a goblin walked out. Immediately he did what passed for a goblin smile—a scary grimace—and began to speak in Old Maejian as he walked toward her.

  Charlotte stepped backward, panic curling through her stomach. She forced herself to halt by fisting her hands so hard her fingernails dented the skin of her palms. Smiling tightly, she dragged a breath in through her nose to calm herself.

  This was fine. She could do this.

  When all Charlotte did was frown at him quizzically as he continued to speak, he switched to English. “You must be Mrs. Dorian. Elina just called to let me know you were renting this place.” He walked to her, spindly gray hand outstretched. “I came by to open the cottage and greet you.”

  She really didn’t want to touch him, but she hadn’t been raised in a barn either. Reaching out, she took his hand and shook it. His hand felt like any other hand, and she drew hers away surprised. “Yes, I’m Mrs. Dorian. Nice to meet you.”

  He pointed at the house. “I’ve been cleaning it up for you. Should be ready to go. I left fresh towels and there are groceries stocked in the kitchen to get you started.”

  “Thank you. I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Leson. I lived for a long time in Piefferburg City, Goblin Town. Then I fell in love with a female from Hangman’s Bastion and moved out here.”

  Charlotte smiled. “That’s . . . nice.” Goblins fell in love. Who knew?

  Just then Kieran came around the side of the house.

  Leson approached him and shook his hand. They talked for a few moments in Old Maejian, then switched to a guttural, clicking language that had to be Alahambri, then Leson waved a hand at her and headed down a path leading away from the house. “Have a wonderful honeymoon, Mr. and Mrs. Dorian.”

  Once the goblin caretaker was gone, she gaped at Kieran. “You told Elina we were newlyweds?”

  “It was the most plausible story I could come up with.” He grinned. “You thought I was trying to pick her up.”

  She waved her hand impatiently. “Whatever, you got our hideaway. Good for you.” She hitched her backpack up and headed for the front door. “I just hope there’s a working bathroom. I need to brush my teeth and shower.”

  “It’s been a long night.”

  Yes, her moment of glamour at the ball had quickly turned into picking bugs out of her teeth on the back of a motorcycle. “It’s been a long week. I just want Risa to get here and retrieve those memories so I can leave this place. I’m tired of having knives poked into my flesh.”

  He followed behind her as she entered the place. It was small, but very cute. Very “honeymoonish,” even though she and Kieran’s trip couldn’t be anything further from that. The living room had a huge stone fireplace. The furniture in the small sitting area in front of the hearth was dove gray and was that soft microfiber stuff that she always thought she’d buy if she ever had kids—easy to wash. The hardwood floor was covered here and there with white-and-gray-patterned area rugs and throw blankets. Soft pillows abounded.

  To her left was a small, open kitchen done all in white. Straight ahead rose a carved wooden staircase that led up to a loft area where she could see a large bed and the entrance to what was likely a bathroom.

  She stopped short. “Kieran, please tell me there’s more than one bed.”

  “There’s only one bed. No worries, I’ll take the couch.”

  She set her pack down on the area rug near the couch. “That’s very gentlemanly of you.”

  His lips twitched. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before.”

  “I heard bastard was a more commonly used descriptor.”

  “Yeah, well, you did ride in with Niall. He’s colorful.”

  “That’s one word you could use to describe him.” She walked around the living room, admiring the furnishings. “This place is lovely. If we really were on a honeymoon, you’d have one happy bride.”

  “Telling the rental agent and the caretaker that story will give us privacy.”

  “Good. I don’t want goblins popping in very often.”

  “Leson seems very friendly.”

  “They eat people, Kieran. Surely you can see my concern. Look at it from my perspective.”

  “You talk like human beings are the main part of their diet. They don’t eat people for fun. They eat them in time of war or in order to protect themselves.”

  Her lips twisted. “Yes, that makes it so much better.”

  “Goblins mostly eat—”

  She held up a hand. “I really do not want to know.”

  “It’s not pretty, but it’s not a whole lot different from the meat diets of most of humankind. Their way of consuming is just—”

  She shushed him. “Please stop. And you wonder why humans want to keep you in here.”

  “Ah, here we go. I figured we’d have this conversation sooner or later.”

  She rounded on him from where she stood in front of the fireplace. “Let’s don’t. I know where you stand on the matter, and you know where I stand. Let’s agree to disagree.”

  “No.” He came toward her, his dark eyes darker than she’d ever seen them. She took a step backward, hunger flaring low in her stomach. God, she hated how much she wanted this man. His voice felt like velvet against her skin when he spoke. “I know I can make you see our side.”

  “Our side? There’s no our side.”

  His eyebrows arched. “You’re forgetting something distinctly important.”

  Her blood went cold for a moment as she remembered. Her voice came out sounding defensive. “I’m far more human than I am fae.”

  “You’re one of us, Charlotte. You might not have enough blood for magick, but we’re still in your veins.”

  She made a frustrated sound. “Can’t you understand why the humans don’t want you free? You can melt people with your brain, Kieran.”

  “Okay, sure, I can do that, but not with my brain, with my magick.”

  She put her hand on her hip. “Semantics.”

  “I can do it, but I don’t. Not unless it’s in the defense of myself or another. Any human can pick up a handgun and shoot someone dead. Most of them don’t. I fail to see the difference.”

  “The difference is a human has to pick up the weapon and use it. You are the weapon.”

  He shook his head. “Charlotte, take a close look at your species. Humans are no strangers to brutality and violence. The fae were here long before humans ever were and we lived among them peacefully for thousands of years, policing ourselves, staying hidden, minding our own business. I watch human television, your news programs, and I wonder how it is that they’re able to think we’re the
scary ones.”

  She sputtered, unable to come with any good response to that. There was no possible way to refute the argument that humans were a brutal and violent species. “Because you’re so different. You’re other.”

  “Ah. Because we look different, have different cultures, see the world from a different vantage point.” He gave her a sad smile. “Charlotte, you need better reasons than that. All of those are simply advantages, as I view them. They’re not reasons for dread. Yet people like your father preach hatred and fear where there should be none.”

  “Should we light a candle and sing ‘Kumbaya’ now?” Her voice came out snappish, mostly because they both knew she’d lost the argument. “You’re . . . scary, Kieran.”

  “Ah. Your nightmares. Risa told me she saw the memories. She thinks, and I agree, that they’re the reason for the block.”

  She turned away from him. “They were only nightmares. I was just a kid.”

  His hand closed over her shoulder. She closed her eyes at the warmth of his palm bleeding through the material of her shirt. “They may have only been dreams, but they left an emotional mark. I can help you heal it.”

  “How?” She pivoted to face him and found him disconcertingly close to her. The heat of his body radiated out and warmed her. The scent of his skin teased her nose. She wanted immediately to step back from him, but instead she forced herself to stand her ground.

  He raised a brow. “Dream wraith, remember?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want you in my mind again.”

  “Charlotte, I’m sorry for what I did to you. If I had been able to make another choice, I would have.”

  She peered up at him. “Really?”

  “I don’t enjoy bending another’s will to my own. If you allow me to help you with your problem, you won’t even know I was in your head. You’ll just wake up feeling better, less afraid.”

  Chewing her lip, she considered him. “If you think this will remove the block, why are you asking my permission?”

  “Because what I just said was true—I don’t like barging into people’s dreamscapes unless I’ve been invited.”