Dark Kiss: A Reverse Harem Fairy Romance (The Twilight Court Book 12)

by Amy Sumida

  “Then we go out the window,” I declared. But then I got a good look at the window. “Fuck!”

  “What?” Drostan rushed back to me.

  “It's not a window; it's a video screen. The view is fake.” I smacked the wall beside the faux window. “And there's cement behind this wallpaper. We're underground.”

  “How can you be sure?” Drostan scowled as he looked around. “We could be in the center of a fortress.”

  I gave him a look halfway between a smirk and a grimace. “This isn't Fairy.”

  “There are fortresses on Earth, Seren,” he chided me.

  “Cement walls.” I pointed at them. “Video windows and luxury furnishings? We're underground, Drostan.”

  “It doesn't matter,” Drostan muttered. “Either way, we're trapped.”

  “You can't trap a Twilight fairy.” I winked at him, not wanting to say more in case someone was listening.

  Drostan's expression surged with relief. “Oh, thank Danu. I hadn't thought of that.”

  “At least they put us in a pretty cage,” I mused as I wandered around the room, looking for a weapon. There wasn't even a poker beside the fireplace. Our abductors had put a lot of thought into how to keep a captive comfortable but powerless. “Why? Why go through all this effort?”

  “They must want something from us,” Drostan concluded as he opened a door to the left of the bed. “Bathroom,” he said to my look.

  “Good to know,” I muttered as I peered into the upper corners of the room, then across the ceiling. “Where are the cameras?”

  “I don't see any.”

  “Neither do I and that worries me.” I looked Drostan over. His glamour was gone just like mine. Fey glamours require a small amount of concentration so it wasn't surprising that once we were asleep, our glamours fell. But then I remembered that voice—the one that spoke to me before I passed out. “They know who I am; they knew when they grabbed me.”

  “What's that?”

  “Even under a glamour, they knew who I was,” I said as dread gripped me. “Just before I passed out, a man called me 'Your Majesty.'”

  “How could they know?”

  “There are only two possibilities,” I growled. “Either they assumed it was us who was after them and made an educated guess, or we've been betrayed.”

  Drostan inhaled sharply. “No, we haven't been betrayed. Not a chance. Those people worked with us last time. All but your guards, and I'm sure you trust them implicitly.”

  “I do.” I plopped down on a couch before the fireplace and mentally went over the list of people on our team. “And I trust the extinguishers. But I don't know about Nightblade's team.”

  “How can you say that?!” Drostan demanded. “Those are hunters. They are all honorable.”

  “I've met dishonorable hunters before, Drostan,” I said evenly. “Tiernan's old team tried to kill me.”

  “What?” he whispered as he sat down beside me.

  I nodded. “And we know these people are fairies.”

  “I can't . . . I can't even comprehend a hunter betraying a queen of Fairy.”

  “There are still those who were against the peace.” I rubbed my forehead and sighed. “I mean, I'm assuming there are. Thousands of years of hatred doesn't vanish instantly simply because a few people get married. I'm sure there are fairies who resent me.”

  “But would those fairies imprison you so . . .” Drostan waved his hand around the room.

  “Lavishly?” I finished for him. “I don't know. Maybe this is their way of offering me respect.”

  “Then why take you at all?”

  “I'm sure they'll tell us,” I muttered.

  Right on cue, a voice came through a hidden speaker, “Because when you capture the Queen, you win the game.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Who are you?” I demanded as I stood up.

  “Irrelevant,” said the male voice. “Try again.”

  Drostan got up as well and started searching the room for the source of the voice.

  “Was this all a trap for me? Will you stop killing humans now?” I asked.

  A pause. “Now, that's a more interesting question. You are concerned not about yourself, but others. Is that a queen thing?”

  “It's an extinguisher thing,” I growled. “And here's another; when I get free, I will hunt you down and extinguish you.”

  The man laughed. “You mean, if you get free. Make yourself comfortable, Your Majesty. You're going to be here a while.”

  Yeah, that's what he thought. He wouldn't be so smug when I twilighted away at dusk. I just hoped he didn't hurt Drostan while I was off getting help.

  “And if you're thinking you'll just do your Twilight Fairy thing and vanish at dusk, you'll be sorely disappointed,” the man went on as if he could read my mind.

  I blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “You have deduced correctly; you are underground. You are also within a containment field that blocks all magic—going in or out. You're well and truly captured, Your Majesty.”

  “There is no such thing as a containment field that can stop magic!” I snarled.

  “You're welcome to try,” he said smugly. “I'm sure you will. Just be prepared; it might sting a bit when your magic hits the field and rebounds.”

  My heart sank and my chest went cold. A magic containment field? Who were these people?

  “You didn't answer her question,” Drostan growled. “Are you going to keep drugging people now that you have us?”

  “Of course. What's the point in taking her, if we stop making the drug? With her under our control, the Councils will back off and the process will go much smoother.”

  “You . . . you're using me for leverage so you can kill humans?”

  “So we can perfect Verisande's formula and control humans,” he corrected me.

  “How do you know Verisande?!” Drostan demanded.

  “Oh, I knew her very well, Baron Drostan,” the voice sank into a low growl, malicious and smug. “We went way back, Veri and I.”

  Drostan's face flushed red.

  “Why did you take Drostan if you were only after me?”

  “He was there and the opportunity to imprison Veri's killer was too good to pass up,” the man drawled. “Besides, I figured you might like some company. Everyone knows you have certain appetites that need to be satisfied. We don't want you to go insane, all alone in your cage. No one likes a mad queen. They start painting roses and shit like that.”

  “Oh, you've got a sense of humor,” I noted dryly. “Good. I've got one too. I'll be laughing my ass off when I wrap you in burning thorns.”

  “Fire can't burn fire, Your Majesty. Shout, 'Off with his head,' as much as you like. You can't touch me.”

  “Not even if I use my iron sword?” I snarled.

  The voice went silent.

  “You still there or did she scare you away?” Drostan called out.

  “Iron doesn't scare me,” the voice said in a low, eerie tone.

  That voice abruptly reminded me of my dream, the one with the laughing monsters. Had it been a premonition? And if so, what did it mean? Was this man a monster on the inside, or was one on the outside too?

  “Are you even fey?” I asked him.

  Silence.

  “Holy fuck,” Drostan whispered. “You're a witch?!”

  “Enjoy your day. There's a remote for the television on the mantle. Unfortunately, we can't offer you access to the Internet, but there's a pack of cards and a few board games in the armoire to entertain yourselves with. And there's always the bed. Lunch will be served in one hour.”

  Then he was gone.

  “Now hold on!” Drostan shouted. “Who are you? What are you going to do with us?”

  Silence.

  “I think it's obvious,” I said gently as I laid a hand on Drostan's shoulder. “They're simply going to keep us here. They'll probably send footage of us to the Councils or my husbands to prove that we're alive. I don't think they
're going to hurt us.”

  Drostan went to the couch and sat down heavily. “He knows Veri. Knew her, I mean.”

  I went to sit beside him. “I'm sorry, Drostan.”

  “She wasn't just lying to me, she was cheating on me too,” he whispered, his eyes haunted. “I thought she . . .”

  “Love can get twisted in the wrong heart.” I took his hand. “It doesn't mean that you have to let it twist you too. Try to remember the good parts and let the bad go.”

  “How can you say that?” Drostan turned flashing eyes to me. “She tried to kill you and now, her lover is holding us hostage.”

  “But she's dead. It's a waste of time to hate the dead. And what can it hurt to remember her fondly?”

  “You—” Drostan shook his head and blinked back tears. “You're an amazing woman, Seren.”

  “Thanks, but I'm just practical.” I let go of his hand.

  He sat back stiffly. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I understand that you don't return my feelings. I don't understand why, but I accept that's the way it is. I'm sorry about the hug and the drama it caused with your husbands.”

  “I'm sorry too. I just don't think this is the Call of Danu.”

  “Maybe it's not.” Drostan made a scornful sound. “But I don't know what else it could be. Even now, I feel this pull to you that I can't explain.”

  “Could it not simply be a normal attraction?” I asked gently.

  “It's different.” He let out a long sigh. “I don't mean to sound harsh, but I don't love you. This isn't what I feel when I fall in love either. I've been alive for a very long time, and I know myself, Seren. I know what I feel when I want a woman for sex, and I know what I feel when I want her to be mine; I feel neither for you.”

  I blinked, a little offended and a lot baffled.

  My look was enough to make Drostan laugh and banish the shine over his eyes. “You misunderstood me. I know I want to bed you, and I know I want you to be mine, but I'm not feeling the way I normally do when I want those things from a woman. I feel . . . more. Aching. Unsettled. I don't just want, I need. I crave you. Does that make any sense?”

  Drostan was describing how I'd felt when the Call had pulled me to my husbands, especially Killian and Daxon. The Call of Danu had gotten progressively stronger with every man the Goddess sent my way. I remembered becoming unsettled and unfocused. Needing, not just wanting. And yet, it was all a memory. I felt none of it for Drostan. I was attracted to him, but who wouldn't be? Drostan was a beautiful man and a good person. But I simply didn't feel called to him.

  Still, his words scared me. What if the Call was coming? What if it hadn't settled inside me yet for some odd reason? I was locked in a luxury prison with him. Was this what Danu had been waiting for? A chance to get us alone together, in a place where my husbands couldn't interfere? And if so, why? Why now? Why him? Every man she'd sent to me had been chosen with a clear purpose—Tiernan and Raza had helped me unite the kingdoms, Killian had been my bridge to the Witches and my connection to my human side, and Daxon connected me to the fairies of Earth. What could Drostan do for us that my other husbands couldn't? Or was it simply that our child was destined to do great things? Danu liked to play the long game. This may not be about me at all, not beyond my role as a mother.

  I shivered as I looked at Drostan. A child with a man I didn't love. I didn't know if I could handle that. How would that even work? Joint custody? Oh, sweet Danu, why was I thinking about having this man's child? It was ridiculous. Danu told me that she was done manipulating my life, and I trusted her. She wouldn't go back on her word. So this couldn't be the Call.

  But Drostan was a friend in need. A friend who had sacrificed the woman he loved to save my life.

  “I do understand,” I said at last. “And to be completely honest, Drostan, that is exactly how I felt when I experienced the Call.”

  His eyes lit up with hope.

  “Which is why I can say with absolute certainty that it is not what I feel now,” I tried to be as gentle as possible. “But I'll do everything I can to help you through this. We're alone now, my husbands can't attack you and try to separate us. If you need to touch me—within reason—you may. If holding me helps, I'm always up for a hug. But if distance would be better for you, I can—”

  “No!” Drostan said urgently and pulled me into an embrace. His whole body shuddered as his arms tightened around me. “This is what I need.” He sighed in relief. “Oh, great Goddess.” He buried his face in my hair. “Thank you, Seren. I just need few minutes like this. Just let me hold you for a while, please.”

  “Okay,” I whispered as I stroked his back and silken hair. It wasn't a hardship to hold Drostan, far from it, and if it helped him, I was good with snuggling.

  Drostan settled us back on the couch, moving me to tuck me in against his side as he laid back in the corner. He eased my head to his chest and drew my arm across his waist. With his hand stroking my hair, I relaxed against him and listened to his heartbeat slow. I had needed this too—comfort. As much as I tried to keep a brave front, I was scared. I was terrified that I'd never see my loved ones again. That I'd be trapped in that room forever. And when you're a fairy, forever is literal.

  But lying against Drostan's chest, with his hand moving in soothing strokes over my hair, my fear vanished. And maybe that should have scared me even more.

  Chapter Thirteen

  We had turned on the TV and were watching it while cuddling, Drostan wearing a blissful look. If my husbands were getting video clips of me, I hoped they'd understand. I wasn't doing anything that couldn't be done in public, or anything that I wouldn't do with a good friend. But I wasn't fooling myself. They wouldn't want me cuddling with Drostan. Period. And it hurt me to know that I might be hurting them, right when they were likely losing their minds with worry over me.

  A clink came from the door, jerking us both upright.

  “Stay away from the door,” a voice came through the speaker—another male voice, different from the last. “Disobey, and I'll tranquilize you.”

  “Have you contacted my husbands?” I demanded as a panel in the bottom of the locked door lifted and a tray was pushed through. “Do they know I'm alive?”

  A pause. “Yes, they have been contacted. We are waiting to receive a reply to our demands.”

  “What demands?”

  “That the Councils cease all investigations into our activities and their teams leave St. Louis.”

  “They won't do that unless you release me,” I said.

  “We'll see. You may collect the tray now. Enjoy your lunch, Your Majesty.”

  Drostan went to fetch the tray and carried it to the dining table as I continued to glare at the ceiling. He had said tranquilize, not dream-dust. Interesting.

  “Seren,” Drostan said gently.

  I looked at him.

  “Come eat. You must be starving. I know I am.” He took the plates from the tray and set them on the table.

  I went over to him. The dining set would have seated four, but I doubted we were going to have visitors. As I sat down, I looked over our lunch. It was barbecue—pulled pork sandwiches, coleslaw, mac and cheese, and corn pudding, all served on fancy china. I snorted as Drostan poured us glasses of sweet tea.

  “What is it?” Drostan asked.

  “I love barbecue. This looks really good.” Then I frowned. “Although we probably shouldn't eat it.”

  “Why not?” He took the chair across from me, looking entirely too at home for a prisoner.

  “They're drug dealers,” I said in a duh tone. “This could be drugged.”

  “Why would it be? They have us under their control. They have no need to drug us, and if they wanted to hurt us, they could do so at any time. They wouldn't have to resort to slipping something in our food.”

  “That's a damn good point.” I grimaced as my stomach rumbled.

  “I'll tell you what, I'll go first.” Drostan took a big bite of his sandwich and then s
ighed. “That's really good.”

  I reached for mine.

  “Hold on,” he stopped me with a wry grin. “What if the drugs take a few minutes to kick in?”

  “Okay, enough already,” I huffed. “I get your point.”

  “If I was a lesser man, I'd pretend to choke now.” He chuckled.

  “You mean, if you were an asshole,” I corrected.