Fatal Assassin (Fatal Fae Book 2)

by Tameri Etherton

  “Much. Midna says it’s time to go. How long will you be here?”

  Labhruinn shook her head. “Not long. I can’t leave the animals. I had to make sure you were sorted.” Her mum stroked the side of Rori’s face, a wistfulness to her voice.

  “I’m good, Mum.” Meg’s words bounced through her thoughts, but she couldn’t bring herself to say them. Cian was right—if their dad was alive, it would only bring their mum pain. Instead, she said, “Thanks for coming.”

  “I heard you’re going to Midna’s court for training.” A slight pink crossed her mum’s cheeks. “I was there once, long ago. Did you know that?”

  Rori shook her head. She’d never heard so much as a whisper about it. She should’ve been mortified, but somehow, knowing her mum had studied at Midna’s made the whole enterprise less overwhelming.

  “Guard your heart, dearest. You’re there to learn, not fall in love. Sometimes Midna forgets that little detail.” Again, the faint blush to her cheeks. Labhruinn’s glance went to the door. “She’s impatient. Go now.” Her mum kissed her forehead and breathed deeply. “I’ve missed you.”

  “And I you.” Tears stung the backs of Rori’s eyes. Why had she been so reluctant to see her own mother? It was ridiculous, really. She’d been afraid. Afraid Labhruinn would insist she stay at the palace and guard Eirlys, even though it wasn’t what Rori wanted, but her mum did.

  “Are you happy?” Labhruinn’s sapphire eyes sought hers and Rori nodded.

  “This is all I’ve ever wanted. I know you wish I’d stay with Eirlys, but this,” Rori’s glance went to her bandaged hand and wounded thigh, “is the life I choose.”

  “Then make it a life worth remembering.” Her mum folded her into a hug and Rori sensed her apprehension.

  Labhruinn was afraid she and Cian would disappear like their dad had. Rori knew that fear, but used it to keep her wits sharp.

  “I’ll come see you when I get a chance. I promise.”

  She left her mum and joined the others in the hall. Therron cast a concerned glance toward the room, but Rori ignored it. She was fine. Everything would be fine.

  “Let’s go.” She didn’t wait for an answer.

  The three of them walked quietly down the stairs to Rowan’s study. The old mage waited for them by a bookshelf, his hands folded in front of his robe. At a nod from Midna, he waved his hands in the air and muttered a few words. The air shifted and a doorway appeared out of nothing.

  Beside her, Therron sucked in a breath. Her own lodged somewhere between her lungs and her throat. She had no idea it was possible to make a portal without an actual doorway.

  Midna thanked the mage and beckoned Rori and Therron to follow. Rori reached out to squeeze Rowan’s hand before stepping into the undulating air.

  A familiar darkness enveloped her and she waited for the air to thicken, but it didn’t. Instead, she smelled orange and mint. A faint light started at the end of her vision, elongating with each passing second. By the time Rori counted to ten, she was standing in a dank cellar.

  She blinked against the glare of several torches. At least three burned on each wall, giving warmth to the room as well as light. On a stone slab in the center of the space, Acelyne rested in her clear coffin. Beside the dead witch, a slight fellow with sallow skin and watery eyes stood watching them. A feeling of worms crawling through her skin made her shudder. The necromancer smiled at her movement. Black and yellow teeth protruded from his soft lips.

  Therron placed a hand at the base of her spine. That small thing, the touch of his skin, even through her clothing, brought calm to her racing heart.

  “Everything’s ready, Your Majesty.” The necromancer indicated they should stand on the other side of Acelyne’s body. When they were in position, he began chanting.

  Rori caught wisps of words and phrases, but tried not to hear more than brief snatches. Not being a necromancer herself, she wouldn’t risk raising a demon by accidentally reciting a phrase wrong. Given her luck the past week, it was totally possible.

  The more he spoke, the more Acelyne’s corpse jostled and shook. His words reached a crescendo and a shriek came from the dead witch’s lips.

  “She’s ready. Ask your questions. Keep them simple. The dead don’t like to be questioned.”

  Rori almost laughed. In her experience, neither did the living.

  “Where’s Mairead?” Midna wasted no time getting to the heart of her questions.

  A gurgling laugh preceded a hissing. Then Acelyne said, “Somewhere you’ll never reach her.”

  “Tell me where she is, you miserable hag.”

  “Or what? You’ll kill me?” Again the disgusting laugh.

  “Who ordered you to kidnap fae?” Rori ignored the glare Midna shot her.

  “Oh, yesssss.” Acelyne’s head swiveled toward Rori, her closed eyes as penetrating as any living person’s glare. “The perfect sssssspecimen. What he could accomplish with you.” She smacked her lips before licking them with a blackened, swollen tongue.

  “Who is he?” Rori pressed.

  “A shadow, a hunter, a myth. No one knows who he is. No one sees him coming. No one sssssusspectsss him. Sssssshadow man.”

  “How did you get the fae to the human realm?” Midna crossed her arms over her chest, then shook them out and balled her hands into fists.

  “Courier.”

  “Who?”

  Acelyne twisted from side to side. Her mouth worked, but only black oil oozed from between her lips.

  Midna motioned to the necromancer, who said several words quickly and with surprising emotion.

  “Maxxxxxxx,” Acelyne blurted with a horrified gasp.

  Midna looked to Rori, but she shook her head. She didn’t know a Max. She expected Midna to question Acelyne further, but she remained silent, eyes full of fury.

  “Why didn’t Arianna return to normal size when I broke out?” The question continued to plague her thoughts.

  Acelyne’s head jerked from side to side, her ghastly tongue flicking out. “Poisssson feeds, poissson bleedsss.”

  “How do you free the fae from their glass prisons?” Therron shifted where he stood, his fingertips stroking along his clenched jaw.

  His question calmed the thrashing witch. “Magic wordsssss. Dark magic. Arcadae dialoma.” Acelyne chuckled low and deep and full of hateful spite. “No more help. You have to earn it.” Her finger rose and pointed at Rori. “You know where to find the ssssssspell.”

  Rori’s eyes widened and she looked at Midna. “I don’t know any dark spells.”

  “I didn’t say you know it; I ssssssaid you know where to find it.” Acelyne’s horrible cackling echoed against the stone walls. “Sssssupposed to be sssso sssssmart.”

  Rori felt the sting of her words. A dead witch was mocking her. Great.

  “Where is Mairead? Tell me now, you miserable cow, or I’ll banish you to the realm of fire, where you’ll know the intimate points of torture to infinity.”

  Acelyne’s head tilted to Midna. “She’s with her beloved. No more answers. The dead call for me.”

  Cracks formed in the casket and Rori was reminded of the amulet Acelyne had trapped her inside.

  “Why?” Rori asked the witch. “Why kidnap fae?”

  Acelyne’s skin began to crumble, but her lips moved in answer. “War.”

  Rori cast a worried glance to Midna.

  “War? With Faerie? Is the shadow man human?” the Unseelie queen asked.

  “Not. Human,” Acelyne choked out.

  Bile rose up the back of Rori’s throat. “The man doing this, is he fae?”

  Acelyne no longer had a face and the cracks in her coffin split to form gaping holes.

  “Please,” Rori shouted, “is he fae?”

  “No. More.” Acelyne’s coffin and corpse turned to dust.

  Therron punched the stone slab, scattering Acelyne’s ashes to the floor. Rori stared at the ceiling, her mind whirling with the information they’d been given. Midna s
tood with a fingertip tapping against her lips, her other arm folded across her chest. The white gown she wore was a stark contrast to her raven hair. Her skin vibrated in a rainbow of color. Rori’s fingers flexed in an unconscious need to touch the queen. To comfort her.

  “There’s nothing more for us here. Come, let us ponder this in better suited accommodations.”

  Rori took several steps then paused. “Why didn’t Eirlys come with us?”

  Midna’s gaze flicked to the necromancer and back to Rori. The queen nodded in the direction of the stairs and Rori followed, with Therron a step behind. Once clear of the crypt, Midna shook out her arms and transformed her gown into a floaty pink thing, with hair to match. She looked like candy floss as she drifted across the marble floor toward the main part of the palace.

  “I do not, as a rule, trust necromancers,” Midna said by way of explanation. “Nor does Eirlys. With Arianna still affected by Acelyne’s spell or potion or whatever has caused her to remain sleeping, Eirlys couldn’t risk being too close to the enchantress. She took that traitorous guard with her in the hopes he might give answers Acelyne would not.”

  Rori nodded in understanding. She’d not been entirely comfortable in the crypt, either. Therron walked to her side and his fingertips brushed against hers. She reflexively sought his touch, but shoved her hand into her jacket pocket. He was getting much too familiar.

  They strolled through the palace without haste. None of them spoke, nor did their footsteps make much sound on the thick carpets. Midna led with confidence and for the moment, Rori was happy to let her. They traversed stairs and corridors without encountering any servants or courtiers. The lack of activity unnerved Rori, but she couldn’t say why.

  Finally, they came to an expansive balcony and Rori recognized it as the one she’d stood on in her dream. She rubbed her forehead and searched for the marble column that she’d bumped into. It had been so real, but surely it was only a dream?

  There was one way to be certain. She could look over the banister separating the balcony from the room below. If she saw a divan placed in the center, then she’d know it had been real. But did she wish to know?

  “I am vexed with Acelyne’s answers and need a release. You two shall stay with me tonight.”

  Therron stiffened and his jaw clenched. Her own nerves pinched with the command.

  “Your Majesty, I must decline.” Therron’s bow was more a folding at the waist than a fluid movement. “As I have previously stated, I am not here for carnal pleasure.”

  Rori’s full attention snapped to the elf. “You haven’t—? I mean, you and her—?” She fumbled for words, too shocked to form a coherent sentence.

  Midna’s chuckle did little to ease her confusion and discomfort. “Despite my desire, we have not. Therron and your brother are quite skilled at evading my bed.” A spark of challenge lit the queen’s eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I shall stop trying.”

  Midna loved a challenge, it was true. Therron had denied her on many occasions? Rori processed this new information, unsure what to do with it.

  “I have realized, people come here for answers. Sometimes those are found through pleasure, and other times through denial. I am simply the instrument by which they come to know themselves.”

  Therron shifted and Rori caught the faint scent of perspiration. Being near Midna made him uncomfortable and now she understood why. It would take a strong will to deny the Unseelie queen if she had her sights set on him. A flicker of elation tickled Rori’s heart.

  “I told you, everyone who comes here does so of their own accord. I do not force anyone to participate in my entertainments.” Midna waved a hand to indicate the palace. “What happens here is sacred to me. But,” she focused her gaze on Rori, “why are you here? Truly?”

  Rori swallowed hard and fought for the right words. She forced her eyes to stay locked on Midna. If she glanced to the left and saw Therron, she might lose her nerve. “I thought perhaps it would serve me well to hone my skills in all ways. I’ve been accused of being too passionate. Directing those emotions would serve me well.” Rori took a deep breath and continued, “My body is as much a weapon as any sword and if I could sharpen my abilities, I could learn to control my body with as much precision as my daggers.”

  It was true, partly. She did wish to learn the ways of seduction, but there was another reason she couldn’t yet admit. Not even to herself.

  Midna nodded, as if she knew all along why Rori was there. “And learn what you must, you will. Be careful, young Aurora, for a weapon cuts both ways.”

  The queen drifted from them to the balcony and stood with her hands spread wide, resting on the marble.

  Rori blinked several times, trying to make sense of the warning. She glanced at Therron, at the unreadable expression he wore, then followed the queen. She gazed at the room below, at the divan situated in the center of the room, at the courtiers who reclined on sofas or stood in small groups, chatting.

  All clothed. None wore masks.

  A soft sigh escaped Midna’s lips. “Everyone has a reason for coming to my palace. Only the fortunate discover their purpose. Unless you wish to participate tonight, I suggest you find your rooms. Therron, I assume you know the way?”

  Before the elf could answer, Midna’s wings unfurled and fluttered, lifting her into the air and over the balcony ledge. Rori watched in awe as the Unseelie queen drifted to the room below. The air shifted with her arrival. An almost palpable sense of passion crackled between the gasps and heartbeats of the courtiers. Several swooned in Midna’s direction and Rori smelled the slightly musky odor of arousal.

  Midna’s bare toes touched the divan and a lone male approached. He was the man from her dream. The one who she’d feared was Cian. As he stepped closer, he began unbuttoning his shirt, a look of pure devotion on his face. Rori was struck by the love this man had for his queen.

  At the same moment, she realized the crushing despair of Midna’s loneliness. She was a queen who gave of herself fully to her subjects, feeding them with her love through sex, but longed for someone to replenish her with more than a release.

  Despite being in a crowded room, the queen was alone. A crashing realization came over Rori and she saw herself in that moment—surrounded by people, yet utterly and despairingly alone. Whether in Faerie or the human realm, she’d built a life of solitude and had convinced herself there was no other option. Her heart went out to the queen. To the long nights of giving, of depleting herself for the good of her people. How many times had Rori worked past exhaustion for the same cause—for the good of Faerie?

  She felt the queen’s despair as if it were her own. Rori’s gaze flicked to the now half-naked faerie. Why couldn’t Midna see how much he adored his queen? Or did she see it, but mistook it for nothing more than the adoration every queen commands?

  “If you wish to stay and observe, I can find a steward to escort you to your room. I have seen enough of Midna’s orgies to haunt all my days.”

  “You don’t approve?” Rori was surprised by Therron’s admission and embarrassed that she did want to stay, but only to see how Midna and the male fae interacted.

  “I have no issue with copulation. And I have no issue with Midna’s entertainments, but these trysts bring me sorrow.”

  “You’re a romantic.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement and Rori hid a smile. Who knew the gruff, scarred, mysterious thief would have a soft spot in his heart for love?

  “Hardly. Come, your room is this way.” He took her elbow and a little thrill shivered up her spine.

  “Then what? Why do Midna’s actions bother you? Do you object so much to love?”

  Moans and cries of excitement followed them as they left the balcony and walked along a wide corridor.

  “Love? Is that what you see?” Therron skipped up the stairs and Rori struggled to keep up.

  The gash in her wound objected violently. He turned, a grimace set firmly on his face. Upon seeing her limp one step at a
time, his face softened and he hastened to her side, wrapping an arm around her waist and gently lifting her with each stair.

  “I do see love. Not in the traditional sense, but there’s more than just rutting going on here.” Rori blew out a breath, irritated that it took so much energy to climb a set of stupid stairs.

  He grunted and heaved her up to the landing. “It must be a fae thing because I see only orgies and decadence.”

  “I’ll admit, when I first heard about Midna’s álainn obedience, I thought it mad that anyone would willingly submit themselves to random sex. But now, I don’t know. I feel like maybe there’s more to it than I’m understanding.”

  “And you wish to be part of it,” the blue of his eyes darkened and his scar turned a violent shade of red, “to understand?”

  The emphasis on the last word caught Rori by surprise. He didn’t approve of her being there, at least, not for the purposes of learning. She leaned against him for support and liked the feel of his sturdy torso against her. Liked the way his arm snugged around her back. Liked the way he cared what she thought.

  “I want to be the best spy I can be.” She didn’t speak the rest of her thought: that if it meant becoming one of Midna’s álainn obedience, she would. What silenced the words was her own uncertainty. She’d assumed Therron was a part of that and would be there with her, but she’d never thought beyond the two of them. Nor had she considered what it would do to her to see him with others. Being with him now, she was torn.

  Therron stopped outside an ornate door. White with gold filigree scrollwork, this room was an improvement from the one she’d stayed in a few days earlier. Rori could guess at the reason for an upgrade in accommodation, but she was too tired to care. As long as it had a bed, bathtub, and fireplace, she was happy.

  “May I escort you inside?” Therron’s lips twitched with a nervous tic.

  “If you promise to be a gentleman,” Rori teased, but regretted her words at the scowl that covered his features. Just when she was beginning to understand the man, he confounded her again.