Her palms warmed, the bubbling magic feeling like it was spilling through the stone and into her body. It wasn’t scary. It was thrilling. And oddly familiar. As if she was being reunited with an old friend.
Or family.
The heat spread from her hands into her body, easing the knots of tension in her shoulders. Was the mystery person doing it on purpose? Maybe hoping to lure her into a sense of complacency before they attacked?
The thoughts were still forming when Levet abruptly clapped in delight.
“Ah. Bravo, ma belle.”
She opened her eyes to see what was happening. Oh, crap. Dropping her hands, Inga stumbled backward. She’d sensed that she’d connected with the other female, but she hadn’t known that their magic was carving a hole in the wall.
It wasn’t until she looked closer that she realized it wasn’t a hole. It was, instead, some sort of spell that was allowing her to see through the barrier.
Not sure what the hell was going on, she studied the female who was illuminated by a strange glow. She was beautiful. Of course. All mermaids were gorgeous. Except for her. The unknown female had dark golden hair that held a hint of blue, and her eyes were a swirl of seafoam. She was also tall and slender and was wearing a gown that was nearly translucent.
“Thank goodness,” the female said, seeming to float forward as she offered them a dazzling smile.
Inga scowled, feeling large and clumsy as Levet brushed past her with a flutter of his wings.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Princess Sabrina,” the female answered.
Inga’s scowl deepened. Of course she was a stupid princess.
“I am Levet.” The gargoyle performed a low bow before straightening and waving his hand toward Inga. “And this—”
“Poyson,” the mermaid interrupted, her lips parted with shock.
Inga shook her head. Was the female demented? That could certainly explain why she was locked away. “No. My name is Inga,” she said.
The female drifted closer to the magical window, still appearing shocked. “Poyson’s baby,” she whispered.
Inga gasped. “You know my mother?”
“Of course. She’s my aunt.” The brilliant smile widened. “Dearest cousin. Welcome home.”
Chapter 15
Riven returned directly to the royal chambers after dumping the vampire and Waverly into their prison. He paced through the rooms, checking to see if anything had been broken or disturbed.
Long ago he’d cursed his seeming lack of talent. He couldn’t create massive buildings like the king, or paint exquisite works of art like Poyson. He didn’t even have the ability to protect the nursery, although that seemed like a lame-ass talent.
Eventually, however, he’d discovered an amazing ability to control the magic of other creatures. It didn’t matter if the power came from a demon or a human—he could manipulate it to fulfill his own purpose.
Once he’d realized his astonishing skill, he’d known that nothing could stop him from claiming the throne.
Riven shook his head, returning his attention to the various artifacts and crystals he used to focus his powers. None of them appeared to be missing. Still he continued to pace through the room.
He wanted to wallow in pride at the knowledge that he’d managed to deal with yet another potential disaster. What other merman could have reacted with such swift efficiency? None.
He alone had the skills and cunning to lead the mer-folk into the future.
No matter what Waverly might claim.
Riven’s hands clenched. Why had her accusation that the people would never follow him struck a nerve? It wasn’t like he cared if the mer-folk approved of his decisions or not. The old king might have inspired a sickening amount of adoration, but Riven had a different management style.
He didn’t want his people’s love, he wanted their fear.
They would obey or be locked in the dungeons. Simple.
So why couldn’t he shake his peevish anger? Maybe he should have spent more time punishing Waverly. Yes. That must be it. Frustrated lust crawled through his body, leaving behind a sour sense of dissatisfaction. If he’d spent time sating his desire for the bitch, he wouldn’t be pacing the floor.
Lost in his thoughts, Riven ignored the light tap on the door. It wasn’t until a shadow fell across the floor that he realized someone had dared to disturb his privacy.
“Your majesty.”
Whirling on his heel, he scowled at Rimm who was standing at attention in the doorway. “What do you want?” he snapped.
The male ignored the overt lack of welcome, his expression stoic. “I assume that you returned the vampire to his prison.”
“Of course I did. Is that all?”
Rimm stubbornly refused to be dismissed. “No. I’ve been unable to locate Princess Waverly.”
Riven stilled, careful to keep his expression bland. Somewhere in the back of his brain he’d known he’d have to come up with a convincing story about Waverly’s abrupt disappearance. The princess was as annoyingly popular among the mer-folk as her father had been. There was no way they wouldn’t notice she was gone.
But he’d assumed he would have time to fabricate a reasonable story. Stupid mistake.
“Why have you been looking for her?” he demanded, playing for time.
“I wished to ensure she was unharmed.”
Riven’s jaw tightened. What was Rimm’s interest in the princess? Did he harbor some futile hope he might someday capture her interest? Probably. Most males in the castle harbored fantasies of bedding Waverly.
“She’s fine.” Riven forced himself to stroll toward a bowl of fresh fruit that was kept on a table next to the sofa. He sent one of his servants to the land above to acquire a variety of food he’d grown accustomed to during his travels among the humans. It was one of the perks of being king. At the same time, he shuffled through various excuses to explain Waverly’s absence. “In fact, she’s decided that she wishes to spend some time exploring the world,” he said, grabbing an orange from the bowl.
There was a suspicious silence before Rimm took a step forward. “Exploring where?” the guard demanded.
Riven pretended to concentrate on peeling the orange. “Does it matter?”
“It just seems odd.”
“What seems odd?”
“Why would she choose to leave now?”
Riven dropped the peeling on the floor, popping one of the orange sections in his mouth as he glanced up.
“I really prefer not to reveal the truth, Rimm,” he chided in soft tones.
The guard studied him with a wary expression. “Why not? The people will be asking questions. First Princess Sabrina retreats to her rooms and refuses to speak with even her closest friends, and now Princess Waverly has disappeared.”
Riven continued to eat his orange, pretending to consider the male’s words. It had been remarkably easy to convince his people not to worry about Sabrina. She’d always preferred to avoid her father’s social events. Plus he’d commanded Waverly to convince anyone who asked that her sister was perfectly fine.
They might not believe him, but they were happy to accept Waverly’s reassurances.
This wasn’t going to be nearly so simple.
He tossed aside the orange and pulled out a lacy handkerchief to wipe the juice from his fingers.
“Perhaps you’re right. I wouldn’t want my people to worry. The truth is…” He paused, letting the suspense build. Not only to prime his audience, but because he enjoyed the drama. At last he tucked away the handkerchief and delicately cleared his throat. “The truth is that Princess Waverly has revealed herself to be a traitor.”
Rimm jerked as if Riven had smacked him in the face. “I don’t believe it.”
With a low hiss, Riven was striding to grab the Trysh
u that he’d propped against the wall.
“What did you say?”
“I would swear on my life that the Princess is loyal,” Rimm said, grimly holding his ground despite the lethal weapon pointed at him.
Riven might have admired his courage if the male wasn’t being a pain in his ass. Why should he have to explain anything to his servants? Or anyone else for that matter.
He was the king. It was beneath him to be questioned. His word was law.
Or at least it should be.
Anger vibrated through him. Obviously the sooner he could create his personal empire, the better. His heirs would be taught at an early age to offer him complete respect.
First, of course, he had to produce his heirs. Something that was easier said than done among the mer-folk.
What he needed was a harem, not a consort, he abruptly decided. The more females he could have in his bed each night, the more likely to produce a child.
Starting tonight.
But first he had to deal with Rimm and the missing Waverly.
“I don’t blame her,” he drawled, forcing his tension to ease. “She was bewitched by the vampire.”
“I thought he was locked away?”
Riven shrugged. “She’s been secretly visiting his prison.”
Rimm looked confused. “Why would she do that?”
“I had no opportunity to discover the reason. I presume she’d already known the leech before I captured him,” he suggested. “Or perhaps he was capable of using his powers of compulsion to force her to come to the prison. Vampires have an uncanny ability to reach the delicate minds of females.” He heaved a sigh, as if deeply disappointed in Waverly. “In either case, she was the one who helped him to escape.”
Rimm made a sound of shock. “She opened the prison?”
“How else could he have gotten out?” Riven demanded.
Rimm absently ran his fingers along the hilt of his trident, visibly trying to process the thought of the female he’d known for centuries suddenly revealing herself as a traitor.
“And then they returned to the castle?” he demanded, not yet convinced of Waverly’s guilt.
“He’s determined to kill me.”
“I still don’t understand why.”
Riven seethed at the male’s refusal to drop the subject. For a crazed second he considered blasting the male with the Tryshu. He had plenty of guards. Any of them could take over as captain. Right?
No, the voice of common sense whispered in the back of his mind. He had to be patient. There were still those among the mer-folk who resented his place on the throne. Even if he held the Tryshu. If he started randomly killing off those who annoyed him, it might give them ideas of rebellion.
Once he could be certain he had a stranglehold on his power, he would kill whoever he wanted.
“An old grudge,” he at last said, his tone warning he wasn’t going to discuss the vampire.
Rimm glanced around the room, as if seeking some sign of the missing princess. “And now Princess Waverly has decided to travel around the world?” he asked with a dubious expression.
Riven heaved a loud sigh. “I asked her to leave.”
“You banished her?”
“She’s a traitor.” Riven narrowed his gaze. “Would you prefer that I lock her in the dungeons? Or have her executed?”
The male’s face paled with horror. “No.”
“Then you agree with my decision?”
Rimm pressed his lips together at the venom that dripped from Riven’s words. At last he seemed to comprehend that he was treading in dangerous waters.
“You’re the king,” he said stiffly.
A mocking smile touched Riven’s lips. “It’s so nice you finally recalled who is boss.”
“Forgive me.” Rimm gave a small bow. “I’ll return to my duties.”
Riven watched the male turn to walk away, before abruptly calling out. “Wait.”
Rimm glanced over his shoulder. “Yes?”
“I need you to gather everyone in the throne room,” Riven commanded.
The male blinked. “Again?”
“Yes, again,” Riven snapped. “I have an announcement that’s going to change the future of the mer-folk.” He allowed another dramatic pause. “Forever.”
Chapter 16
Inga flinched. Why hadn’t she paid more attention to Levet when he’d said that the scent was similar to her own? She’d assumed he meant she smelled like a mermaid. Not that they were related.
Now she felt herself floundering as she stared at the female with a raw sense of apprehension.
There wasn’t much of a family resemblance. No surprise. The mermaid looked like an angel, while Inga…
Well, no one would mistake her for a celestial being.
“Cousin?” she managed to choke out.
“Yes.” The female held out her hand, as if trying to reach through the barrier and touch Inga. “I’m so happy to finally have you home. At last.”
A dangerous warmth crept through the ice that surrounded Inga’s heart. Home. It was a place she’d been searching for her entire life.
Was it possible?
No, no, no. With a sense of panic Inga shattered the tiny bud of hope.
What was wrong with her? She didn’t doubt the female was her cousin. But her claim that she was happy that Inga was home was nothing more than a desperate ploy.
“Bullshit,” Inga growled.
Sabrina slowly lowered her hand. “I don’t understand.”
“We came here to help you,” Inga said, the words flat. “There’s no need to pretend you’re not horrified by my presence in your castle.”
The mermaid pretended to be confused. “Why would I be horrified?”
Inga hunched her shoulders, hating the pain that sliced through her. After all these years, why did the rejection of her family still hurt? “Please don’t play this game.”
“There is no game, Inga,” Sabrina insisted. “I swear.”
Scowling, Inga glared at her cousin. “Do you think I’ve forgotten my last visit to this place? It might have been five hundred years ago, but the words were burnt into my brain.”
Sabrina managed to look shocked. “You were at the castle?”
“After I escaped, I had a ridiculous hope that my family would want to know that I survived,” Inga confessed, using mocking tones to disguise her distress. “You see, at the time I didn’t realize that it was my beloved mother who’d sold me to the slaver.”
There was a shocked gasp as Sabrina pressed a hand to her heart. “That’s a lie. I don’t know why you would believe such a terrible thing.”
Inga clenched and unclenched her hands. Did the princess think she could fool her? Probably. Most creatures took a look at her lumpy, ugly face and assumed she must be stupid.
“Because your king told me,” she informed the mermaid.
“King?” Sabrina blinked. Then blinked again. “My father?”
Inga gave an impatient shake of her head. “Riven.”
Sabrina’s lips parted, but it took a few seconds before she could actually speak. “That bastard,” she finally rasped.
“Finally, we agree on something.”
“He lied to you.”
Inga snorted at Sabrina’s claim. “Why would he lie?”
A bitter hatred twisted the female’s beautiful features. “Because whenever his lips are moving he’s lying,” she spat out. “And because he enjoys hurting people. And because he was no doubt trying to manipulate you to suit his own purpose.”
It was hard to dismiss the fierce sincerity in Sabrina’s voice. Inga tried. How could she possibly trust this female? At best, she wanted their help. At worst, she was leading them into a trap.
Then Inga felt the brush of fingers over her tightly clench
ed fist.
“You should listen to her, ma belle,” Levet urged in soft tones.
Inga swallowed the lump forming in her throat. Maybe he was right. The goddess knew that no one with a brain in their skull would trust Riven. “My mother didn’t sell me to the slavers?” she demanded, remaining wary.
“Never,” Sabrina hissed. “Never, never, never.”
Okay. That was adamant.
“So what happened?” she asked.
Sabrina paused, casting an anxious glance around the nursery. Was she searching for something?
Or someone?
Eventually she returned her gaze to Inga. “After my father created this lair, he was worried about losing the ability to keep in contact with the outside world,” she said.
Inga wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know why. The outside world is pretty sucky.”
“I agree, but we’d ignored the threat from the dragons until it was too late, and we paid a heavy price.” Sabrina’s eyes filled with tears. “Including my mother.”
“Oh.” Inga felt a grudging pang of pity. She understood the pain of living without a mother.
Sabrina cleared her throat, blinking away the tears. “My father understood that our isolation wasn’t enough protection,” she continued. “We needed to know what was happening among the other species. Especially the humans.”
“He sent my mother to be a spy?”
Sabrina shrugged. “Among others.”
Inga tried to wrap her brain around her mother sneaking around like a secret agent from a human movie. “Is that when the ogres kidnapped her?”
Sabrina looked surprised by the question. “She wasn’t kidnapped.”
Inga stiffened, her chest feeling oddly tight. “If she wasn’t kidnapped, how did I happen?”
Sabrina gave a lift of her hands. “The way that babies usually happen. Poyson fell in love with the leader of a tribe of ogres.”
Love? Inga stumbled back, falling on her butt as her muumuu fluttered around her like a parachute. She barely noticed. The earth was tilting on its axis and it was taking all of her concentration just to force the air in and out of her lungs.
Beware the Darkness Page 17