by Rory Miles
Draven glances at me, and I shrug, not sure how to proceed.
“I can offer assistance, but not for another month. There is something of great import I must attend to on Earth.”
Mara’s gaze flicks to me and I know she knows I know, that something is me.
“A month, then. If your word is broken, I’ll ravage your days and nights with the worst of beings and thoughts.”
Ah, the good ole nightmare card. I knew she’d play it at some point.
Draven does not take well to being threatened, and shadows suddenly fill the space, circling around her feet like piranhas.
“Do not forget your place.”
She narrows her gaze. “I remember, but I’ll also remind you your duty is to Faerie.” This time, she stares straight at him even though I know those words were aimed at me.
Draven growls, and some of the violence he keeps shut away rushes over me. Mara snaps her fingers. All the demons in the room except me fall asleep, and she sneers at him.
“Do not threaten me with such fragile company; they will not survive the fall-out.”
Anakin’s face contorts and he yells, swiping at something only he can see in his dreams. Amelia has soiled herself and she whimpers, trembling in fright.
“Enough,” I hiss, barreling my own shadows at her and smacking her in the face.
“Shera,” Draven says, grabbing my hand. “Don’t.” Listening to him, I pull the darkness back into me. I’m in unfamiliar territory, but I will not let her hurt my people.
The shock of my attack rips her hold from my people, and she studies me.
“Do not make the same mistake again.”
Her words are a warning and I feel it deep in my demon heart. Lady Mara is dangerous, more so than Lady Thana.
Turning to Draven, she says, “One month.” With a snap of her fingers, a grotesque-looking winged beast appears, screeching into the air. The sound is like sharpened nails on a chalkboard and my friends, who are now awake, flinch away from it as the beast beats its spindly wings and flies out of the room.
Sitting here on this fae throne makes me feel strange. Impostor syndrome sweeps over me, so I stand, step away from the shadowed throne, and look at Draven.
“When did I become Lady of Shadows?”
He shrugs. “My shadow beast claimed you, what did you think that meant?”
I don’t like his tone, not at all. “I’m not your queen.”
“No, you’re My Lady.” He smirks like he’s very pleased with himself for having said that, and I hear Micah trying not to laugh.
“We’ll see about that.”
“Why are you upset? I thought you enjoyed my shadows.” A tendril of darkness reaches for me, and I swat it away with my own.
“Don’t touch me.”
The demons and sylph are quiet as I seethe. The only one who could possibly understand how I feel is Naomi. She knows what it’s like to have someone try to claim you and force you into something you don’t want.
Admittedly, what Draven’s done is much less egregious than Lucifer and Berith’s attempts, however, I still can’t just accept the title that comes with the beast’s claiming. Draven is still a mystery to me. The bond we share doesn’t change that.
Not to mention, I’m demon, for devil’s sake. How would the rest of Faerie feel about me being Lady of Shadows? The little frown on Lady Mara’s face was enough to tell me how they’d feel. Confused. Frustrated. Irate, perhaps. A demon butting into fae business.
I’m staring at one of the long black drapes, lost in thought, while my eyes trace the elegant silver etching. Naomi steps up the stairs.
“I see you.”
Those simple words nearly bring tears to my eyes. “You do, don’t you?” I turn and search her gaze, finding the same sort of frustration I feel deeply inscribed on her soul.
We are powerful, desirable. But for so many, all they see is a tool they can use to make themselves more than what they are. Rosie wanted us to build her an army. Lucifer and Berith wanted us because the strongest of demons deserve the strongest of mates.
What does Draven want from me? His tale of curiosity is too simple; surely there is more he seeks.
Verrina speaks up from the main floor of the room. “Is it possible, Lord of Shadows, to have some food? I’m starving.” She uses her royal tone, the one that pretends to be apologetic even though she feels not an ounce of remorse.
Lietta flits over to me, not to Draven. Naomi takes note of this and smiles. I guess being Lady has its perks. I do like to be in charge.
The Lord’s gaze burns my cheek with its intensity, but I’m ignoring him until I can settle my mind. I’m being a bit irrational about my new title, and I need space to collect myself before I discuss this with him again.
“If it pleases you, I can join Sewyn in the kitchens and prepare a meal.” Glancing at the other eight demons in the room, she adds, “or perhaps a small feast.”
“That sounds wonderful, Lietta. Thank you.”
“Of course.” She flies out of the room, leaving the demons alone with the Lord of Shadows.
“Shera,” Draven begins, but a throaty chuckle echoes in the hallway.
Dante has arrived.
Naomi smirks at me when the female vampires straighten and lean toward the sound.
Incubi, I mean, really.
The man himself saunters into the room wearing nothing but pants and a woman on his arm. Wait a fae minute, not just any female.
Lady Mother Fucking Thana.
The woman is smiling at something he’s said, and her long red hair is up in bun that’s been messed up by sex, no doubt. At least she’s wearing a long tunic-style shirt this time and not baring her naked caramel skin for all to see. Without The Hunt accompanying her or blood dribbling down her skin, she’s quite beautiful.
“Dante, you little devil. Who’s your friend?” Naomi is nearly vibrating where she stands, the excitement of seeing he’s safe a contagious feeling.
Verrina and I share a smile.
Lady Thana straightens, narrows her gaze at the room full of demons, and says to Draven, “You’ve got a bad habit of picking up strays.”
Draven shifts in his throne. “Am I the only one who enjoys their company?” He tilts his head at Dante. “Tell me you aren’t smitten with the little incubus.”
Dante scoffs. “I’m not little.”
Thana says, “Definitely not little, my dear, not in the slightest.” She pets his bare chest. “I’m so glad I didn’t kill you.”
“Well, isn’t that just the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard?” Micah pipes, earning a glare from Lady Death.
“Micah,” I say, making bug eyes at him. “This is Lady Thana, from the Court of Dead. Ruler of The Hunt.”
I stress each title, hoping he remembers even a little of the fae power structure.
Anakin rolls his eyes when Micah makes a face. “She’ll kill you if you don’t shut up.”
This makes Lady Thana smirk. “He’s right, you know. It’s within my authority to kill any demons trespassing into Faerie without invitation.”
I shoot Draven a look. Because he brought me to Faerie. I’m not sure why she showed up to kill me the first time I came here.
“He didn’t invite you, dear. He broke the rules.”
“How does one get invited to Faerie?” Jasper asks, finally standing from the bench and coming over to me. The female vampires follow him.
“The correct phrasing of words allows a temporary permit to enter without being hunted.”
I glance at Draven. “You didn’t think to say these before bringing me?”
He gestures at Beelzebub. “Dark and angry over there didn’t give me a chance.”
Well, I guess I understand that. Beelzebub had come threatening and I’d been half ready to hop out of Draven’s arms when he showed up without his glamour and revealed himself as fae.
The shadows move with him when he stands, extending an arm toward me.
“Shera and her legion of demons are welcome guests in the Court of Shadows, no harm shall come to them while in my lands.”
Thana rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t going to kill them.”
Vicki looks half in love with the crazy fae, and I worry about her sanity.
“Well, now you can’t,” Draven says with a smile. “Dante, are you well?”
I hear the hints of concern in his question, and take a second to really look at Dante. Remembering how I’d felt like I was winning my face-off with Thana, I worry Dante’s full of false bravado and the second she leaves he’ll collapse.
His allure is bright red when he drops his glamour and I hear Amelia sigh longingly. He’s the only other one who can access his power. . . that’s all good and well, except I’ve just realized something very important. If what Thana says is true, Draven didn’t need me to take the fae vow to keep me safe. He could have just extended a formal invitation. . . the fae vow was completely unnecessary.
“Your concern is heartwarming, but trust me, I’ve never felt more alive. Thana’s gifted me with a fae vow,” Dante says. His words interrupt my slowly simmering irritation and I find myself scrutinizing the way Thana presses herself into his side.
I, for one, am very surprised Thana’s vagina didn’t kill him, seeing as she’s Lady Death. . . and suddenly I can’t stop picturing a Venus fly trap between her legs, even though I know for a fact a very real vagina sits there. I hide a smile behind my hand and cough.
“Why are you smiling?” Micah asks, a knowing spark in his gaze. Like me, his brain immediately went to killer vaginas.
My dark and quiet bond mate shakes his head; he too understands me. Devil, he’s a good man. I’ve never felt conflicted about his intentions like I do with Draven. Beelzebub senses my attention, closes the distance and steps up one of the small stairs, putting him at eye level.
Pitching his voice low, he says, “We have unfinished business.”
That we do. His eyes flit over my body, and I feel him mentally peeling off my clothes and exposing me. Opening me and taking control of my body.
Sewyn appears on foot, looking irritated. “My Lord,” she emphasizes the lord part as she bows and scowls at me, “the food is ready to be served. Where would you like to dine?”
Well, she killed the mood. Lietta is much friendlier than this little sylph. Then again, I rescued her; she kind of owes me.
“Shera may decide.” He’s forcing her to acknowledge me, and she does not like it.
Sucking in her cheek, she says, “Of course. My Lady, where would you like to dine?”
My title sounds bitter on her tongue. I love her reactions to me.
“Um, yes. In the main dining hall?”
Tilting her head, she doesn’t respond. She isn’t going to help me find a place.
Draven says, “See that it is done, Sewyn.” Some of that threatening violence enters his voice and she snaps to attention. She’s been on the receiving end of his temper recently and I doubt she wants to experience it again. I know I don’t.
Anakin is staring at Draven like he’s a puzzle that needs to be solved. My perceptive jinni noticed the subtle shift of power in Draven.
Crossing the stone platform, Draven wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me against his body. His nose drops to my collarbone and he inhales, letting out a tortured groan.
“Your scent is driving me wild.”
“You lied to me. I’m still irritated with you.”
The bond between us is making it hard for me stay mad at him, but I won’t be quick to forget his lies. I’m grateful for the fae vow, it gave me access to my powers in Faerie, but I don’t like the trickery that came with it.
“You’re mad.” Softly biting my tender flesh, he kisses the spot and says, “That’s not helping things.”
Oh, he likes a bit of angry sex? I can work with that. I place my hand over his heart, ready to take a big dose of his essence, but before I can, Naomi yanks me from his arms.
“You’re playing with fire, Draven. The smartest thing you can do is give her space. Hell hath no fury like a scorned succubus.”
I make a noise in my throat. “I’m not scorned.”
She shoots me a look. “You were just about to drop him.”
Draven raises his eyebrows and looks at me. “Really?”
Shrugging, I reply, “Maybe.”
Something dangerous sparks in his gaze. “Come here.”
“No, seriously Draven, I’m doing you a favor.” Naomi pulls on my arm when I drop my glamour and move toward him.
I want to protest, but she and Verrina haul me away from the Shadow Fae. Betty’s sudden appearance startles them both, but they recover quickly and follow as she leads us to the dining hall. The rest of our group follows after us, and now with some distance between myself, Draven and Beelzebub, my mind clears of sex and back to the matters at hand.
Hiding in Faerie, while doable, is not an acceptable option. First of all, I don’t know why Draven lied to me. Secondly, Lucifer, Berith and Levia need to be dealt with.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lietta and Sewyn have outdone themselves. Really. The large maple table is piled high with the food of Faerie. A roasted wild fae boar sits on a large silver platter, and surrounding it are bowls upon bowls of side dishes. A rainbow array of fruits and vegetables. Some look familiar, like the foods of Earth, but I don’t doubt their taste is starkly different.
Draven takes the seat at the head of the table, pushing a swath of dark hair from his eyes. Lietta pulls out the seat next to him and dips her head when I take it, scooting it ever so gently forward.
Beelzebub sits directly across from me, stretching his legs so that my ankles are resting against his calves. Anakin takes the seat on my right and Micah the one next to him. The rest of our group begin to take the empty seats. Before Amelia can sit, Lietta pulls her aside and hands her a fresh set of clothes. The vampire ducks her head, embarrassed, but hurries to change.
Lady Thana lingers near the end of the table, looking uncertain.
Draven flashes his dimples at her. “You’re welcome to stay, Thana.” Being of equal position allows him to address her with such familiarity in this setting.
She glances around at the demons, Dante taking most of her attention. Her lips purse and pieces of her red hair fall from her bun when she shakes her head.
“I have my own court to attend to. Thank you for your hospitality.”
Dante asks, “Are you sure you have to go?” The smile he gives her would destroy any other woman’s self-control, but Lady Death is steady.
“I’ll return to you.”
Her promise appeases Dante and I see a flash of disappointment in her gaze. Had she wanted him to fight for her to stay?
Dante goes to her and kisses her deeply before saying, “I look forward to it.”
Cheeks turning slightly pink, Thana smiles at him. “Goodbye.”
The incubus jumps back when she evaporates into a pile of ash, mouth gaping open and brows shooting up. Horrified, he looks at me, and then to Draven.
Naomi clears her throat. “She seems. . . nice.”
Verrina is fighting a smirk.
Dante mumbles for the both of them to shut up, then asks, “Does she always do that?”
Draven shrugs. “It’s faster to travel with the dead than by foot or horse-drawn carriage.”
He nods and brings his eyebrows down. “Right, of course.”
Now that he has a bond with Thana, I’m curious to learn if he can also travel with the dead. We’ll have to explore his powers later.
Amelia returns, taking her seat and studiously pretending like she hadn’t just peed herself. Thankfully no one says anything to her about it. Sewyn’s moving about, filling each chalice with fae wine. She’s so short that everyone brings their cup to her height so she doesn’t make a mess. Jasper sighs in relief and takes a big gulp. Vicki and Amelia sniff theirs, share a conspiring look, and tip the cups back.
&n
bsp; Sewyn makes a disapproving noise in the back of her throat while filling Beelzebub’s chalice. She filled Draven’s first, so she comes over to me. Serving me last is probably meant to rile me, but I’m just relieved to be with people I know and am comfortable with. Even Sewyn’s scathing glances don’t bother me much anymore.
We eat dinner, and everyone gushes over the strange yet tantalizing tastes they experience. Lietta is beaming and I see the slight upturn of Sewyn’s mouth.
After round two of drinks, everyone is well and done; no planning will be happening tonight. Though, there isn’t much to plan. The next time we travel through the vortex, we’ll be heading to Avernus once a meeting is called. There we will confront Levia and Berith by whatever means necessary.
Lucifer won’t be happy, so we will be ready for his immediate retaliation. Other than that, any plans made would be loose and based on assumptions.
I’m not going to demand they stop enjoying themselves to plan. No, I enjoy the way Naomi is grinning with Verrina and Dante about Jasper’s slurred words. The way he indignantly slaps the table and makes Vicki jump then scowl at him when she realizes he’s just drunk.
Beelzebub and Draven are engaged in a quiet conversation that is beginning to worry me. When they both turn their gazes on me, I swallow around the lump that’s suddenly formed. In eerie synchronization, they turn back to their discussion.
“What do you think they’re discussing?” Anakin asks in my ear.
“Nothing good,” I say.
His fingers run up and down the back of my neck. “Come for a walk with me?”
“Okay.”
We excuse ourselves, leaving the rest behind. Micah looks a bit put out, but I’ll be sure to spend some time with him later to make up for it.
Once we’re out of earshot and wandering aimlessly around the large castle, Anakin asks, “What comes next, Shera?”
He’s been holding this one back, I can tell in the way his forehead creases and his eyes twitch, like he’s making a conscious effort not to come across as confrontational.
I eye the bracelet he wears, wishing he’d take it off so I could distract him with sex. That won’t work though, not with Anakin. He’s picked up a scent and he won’t leave it alone until he’s followed it to the end, wherever it may lead. I just hope he doesn’t leave once he’s heard my plan.