“I’m willing to compromise,” I allowed, “but I’m not cooking up sex magic for your dinner.”
Frowning hard at him, Remy asked, “Hunger is the only emotion you experience?”
Hunger wasn’t an emotion. It was a drive, a primitive need that must be met. Not a feeling.
“I am a devourer.” He rolled a shoulder. “Hunger is all I know, all I am.”
A worrisome pinch in my chest threatened to make me sympathize with Ambrose.
He was more than that. He was cunning, sly, and ruthless. Hunger was the least of him. But that wasn’t exactly a positive endorsement of his personality traits, so I didn’t volunteer them. I wasn’t sure he had feelings, but he was good at miming them, and I had to wonder if he wouldn’t develop them if he stuck with me a few decades.
“That’s a good thing.” I patted him on the back, and a corresponding tingle hit my shoulder. “You’re the bottomless stomach the world needs right now.”
Hard to tell, without distinct features, but I swear he smiled, and it defined his lips in an alarming way.
“We have one more tether.” I shook off my unease. “Then we hit the big time.”
“Faegate,” he corrected me, amusement thick in his voice.
Oh, yes. He was definitely buttering me up for something. But what?
The four of us climbed down in a single file with Remy at the head and Ambrose at the tail. He burned more energy by running backward three steps then jogging down to catch up with us. He did that the whole way down to the third faegate, and my muscles twanged with sympathetic aches.
“Licorice,” Remy said after a while. “Black licorice.”
“I don’t know why they make the stuff.” I made gagging noises. “It’s disgusting.”
“It’s delicious,” she countered. “Your taste buds are just too snooty to appreciate non-chocolate treats.”
Midas kept his mouth shut, which made me suspicious about which way he leaned on the topic. Not the snootiness, but the licorice. Gwyllgi stomachs were lined with lead, so he could eat pretty much anything he wanted and get away with it. He would probably even enjoy it.
We trailed the scent to the corresponding level and exited the stairs, making room for Ambrose.
“This faegate is weaker than the others.” He made a thoughtful noise. “I must have broken a circuit with the other two.” He smoothed a palm over the gateway, its mirror surface reflecting him back at us. “That is good news.”
I would take all the good news I could get. “Will it make severing the archive from Faerie easier?”
“Not really, no.” He didn’t sound worried, just frank. “It will still require a magnitude of effort.”
“On the bright side,” Remy said, “the Buckhead portal ought to be primed to collapse by then.”
“Yes.” He planted his feet and bowed his head, his palms flush with the stone. “Brace yourselves.”
Midas and I held hands again. There was no magical element to it. Only comfort. Though, if you think about it, there was a magical element in that. If not a definable one.
Power surged into me, stinging down to my fingertips, but the burn wasn’t half as bad as the last one.
“There.” Ambrose straightened, smoothed a hand down the front of his chest, and faced us. “Done.”
“Three down, two to go.” I clasped my hands together. “Let’s—”
An earsplitting shriek from above raised the fine hairs down my nape and left us all craning our necks.
The mob of spirits we had collected fled into their tombs without so much as a wave goodbye.
Chickens.
“You dare,” a high voice shrilled, magnified with power. “You dare defile our most sacred place.”
“Your most sacred place is a super creepy murder closet,” I yelled back. “It needed airing out.”
Another scream, this one laced with fury, rent the air.
“Go.” Midas nudged me. “We must reach the final faegate before she catches up to us.”
“That works too.” I ran after Remy, who had hightailed it down and away from the danger. “She’s fast when she wants to be.”
A low chant rose to greet us, and the bottom fell out of my stomach.
The spirits hadn’t vamoosed because they were afraid of what was heading straight for us. She wouldn’t hurt them, after all. They had heard the coven chanting below us and been unable to resist its siren call to rest.
“The next batch.” Midas, of course, had already heard them. “We’re caught between them.”
Hindsight smacked me between the eyes with a revelation that came too late to be of any use.
We might have screwed ourselves over in forcing the coven to exclusively use the Faerie gateway.
The novices hailed from various cities. That was a good thing. Newbies were easier to beat. Anyone stepping through from Faerie? I…had my doubts about how that would go. Those practitioners would be the heavyweights. As would the practitioner stalking us from above.
And, thanks to the time it had taken to work our way down, we had sandwiched ourselves between a hammer and an anvil.
Fun times.
“How are we going to get past the coven recruits to the faegate?”
No one answered my question for a beat. Several beats, if we were talking about my heart.
“I will drain their power,” Ambrose decided, “and leave them unconscious.”
As the old chestnut goes, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. That plan of attack had worked well for us so far.
“Will it impact your ability to finish the job?” That was my primary concern. “Even your stomach isn’t bottomless.”
Unless it came to expensive chocolates guaranteed to break the bank. Then it was a void.
“Perhaps,” he allowed. “I don’t see another way to neutralize the threat.”
Ducking into the tombs hadn’t worked. The witchborn fae had smelled coven blood on Midas and on Remy. Take that away, and we had nothing. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. We were stuck.
As much as it pained me, I had to side with him. “I don’t either.”
If Ambrose got us through the coven, the next stop was Faerie.
Deep breath.
Another deep breath.
You got this.
Faerie was a state of mind, or something.
“Okay,” I decided. “Ambrose, take them down. Everyone else, get ready to run.”
Remy snorted at my paper-thin plan. “Do you know how to use a faegate?”
Flip on the power and take a leap of faith was my understanding. “You walk through it?”
“I would pay good money to see you try.” She snorted. “You’d smack right into the stone.”
“I didn’t mean…” I narrowed my eyes on her in time to watch her laugh at me. “Never mind.”
All the energy Ambrose absorbed from the coven had to go somewhere. He might as well put it to good use. Powering the gateway sounded perfect to me. It wouldn’t burn off all he gained, but it was a start.
As the chanting swelled, I noticed a single voice sweeter than all the rest, rising high above the others.
Fear stabbed me in the heart, an ice pick that wouldn’t melt so long as I heard her song.
Natisha was with the coven.
Natisha was in the archive.
With us.
Oh frak.
Fourteen
“Midas,” Natisha called from the depths, her voice rich with mirth no doubt born from piercing the sigil I had been using as a mute button for us. “We have much to discuss, you and I. Bring the shadow child with you.”
A chill rippled the length of my spine and left me shivering with cold certainty this was the end for us.
Without hesitation, Midas stepped forward to meet the challenge head-on. “Let me go alone.”
“Let me introduce my foot to your adorable butt,” I said, and flexed my toes in my shoes for him to see.
“Hadley—”
&
nbsp; “Our fates and lives are intertwined,” I reminded him. “You can’t protect me by leaving me behind.”
Lips stretched thin, he tilted his head in acknowledgment, but his eyes burned with the primal need to protect his mate.
No other choices left, I turned to Ambrose. “Are you ready?”
“I am hungry.”
“Same difference.” I patted Ambrose’s shoulder. “You’re up first.”
“Excellent.” The shadow descended, his shape growing more defined than ever. “I need a moment.”
The quickness of his steps soon carried him from our sight, and I sent up a quick prayer for his success.
“Midas, trade bags with Remy.” I turned on the stairs. “Remy, you’re hanging back. Understand?”
Squaring her shoulders, Remy braced for an argument. “Are you out of your—?”
“You will keep the hearts up here,” I ordered her, “out of Natisha’s grabby hands.”
The gravity of the task, the trust it implied, snapped her mouth shut before more angry words escaped.
Without further hesitation, Midas slid the straps down his shoulders. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“Look,” Remy began. “I screwed up, okay? I know it, you know it, she knows it. You don’t have to rub it in, pretty boy.”
“I wasn’t questioning your loyalty.” He held the bag out to her. “I’m worried about your safety.”
“Oh,” she grumbled, trading packs with him. “I’ll be fine.”
“Watch your back.” I gestured to her sequined outfit. “And your front.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Leaving her behind, Midas and I began our final descent, our footsteps synced in an ominous march.
I wish Linus was here.
The thought was so random, I wanted to laugh. I did wish he was here. He would know what to do. He always knew what to do. He could fix this. He could save us. He could…
Frak.
When had I started idolizing Linus instead of fearing him?
Don’t get me wrong. His magic chilled me. His control over that much power terrified me. I had been on the wrong end of his scythe too many times to be comfortable with him in that area. But he had become my friend, a person I turned to for advice, a guy who would always be there for me, one who was willing to accept a black mark on his soul if it meant saving mine.
Obviously, I was never going to tell him or anyone else any of this. How awkward would that be? For both of us? Linus wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy. He would blush, stammer, then vanish into his shadowy cowl to escape the embarrassment of my praise.
Humility was a great attribute in a guy who, along with his fiancée, wielded enough power to take over the world if they ever got bored enough.
And I was compartmentalizing again.
Gah.
I hated when my brain took vacations without filling out the proper paperwork.
The staircase began to widen about the time the chant slurred into a litany of groans and moans.
Ambrose was feeding, and he was feeding well.
The build of pressure within me fell somewhere on the scale between the first and second faegate takedowns. I could bear it, but it wasn’t comfortable. Midas must be crawling in his skin.
We reached the bottom, and I couldn’t stop the grimace when I spotted the scattering of young women who had fallen at Natisha’s feet. They had fought Ambrose to protect her, but they were no match for him.
Hair as red as wet blood spilled down Natisha’s back, and the farthest reaches of eternity filled her eyes with a darkness no emotion could permeate. Her smile, when it came, was a cold, reptilian thing.
Midas and I stepped onto the uneven stone together and waited for her to acknowledge us.
“You failed to fulfill your end of the bargain.” Natisha measured us. “Your hands are empty.”
Done with his meal, Ambrose came to stand beside me, his essence throbbing with pent-up energy.
“We have six hearts.” He fixated on the fallen woman nearest him. “We only need one more.”
“That would make us square.” I played along with my darker half. “You’re here to bear witness, which means I can place the last heart in your hands before it stops beating. What do you think?”
“You wouldn’t dare.” She sneered at me. “You are too soft.”
“Try me.” I gestured to Ambrose, and he passed me my swords. “I’m in a rush, so decide quickly.”
“Your city will fall.” A smile ripened her lips. “Your people will burn.”
“Nah.” I shrugged off her prophesy of doom. “We’ll be fine.”
I had to believe that was true in order to make it across the finish line.
“There are twelve witchborn fae here.” I crossed to the nearest one. “That’s plenty. I’ll even let you pick which one dies.”
“You have failed.” A flush of anger swept through her, scorching in its intensity. “Submit.”
“I’m not much into submission.” I flexed my fingers on their hilts. “It’s not my thing.”
“One heart is as good as the next.” Midas flicked his wrist. “Kill that one and be done with it.”
“I like the way you think.” I positioned the tip of one sword over the heart of the nearest woman. “Sorry about this.” I ignored the lurch in my gut and pressed until blood stained her shirt. “Nothing personal.”
“Stop.” Natisha stepped forward. “Leave these women unharmed.”
“Why?” I applied more pressure. “What makes them so special?”
Natisha wasn’t the kind to stir herself on someone else’s behalf.
Unless there was something in it for her.
Something big.
From the corner of my eye, I spotted Midas flaring his nostrils, breathing in their scent. “They’re yours.”
“As in her offspring?” I studied their faces. “They do look awful similar, don’t they?”
With their faces slack and their uniform of dark pants, shirt, and cloak, I hadn’t noticed the resemblance.
Keeping my blade right where it was, I wondered, “Doesn’t a fae mother and witch father make them faeborn witches?”
“Does it matter?” Midas locked his gaze on her. “They’re all the same.”
“Yeah.” I twisted my handle. “You’re probably right.”
It wasn’t like they were first cousins or anything, but these women were related to Midas, and I wasn’t sure how he would feel about us doing what must be done to survive this confrontation. There was no love lost between him and Natisha, who had let him be sold to the goblin rather than claim kinship and spare him, but these women had no part in that. They were far too young, or so they appeared to me.
Even that assumption was a deadly one. I couldn’t afford sentimentality. Not now. Not with them.
The scream Natisha unleashed as I dug into her daughter’s flesh left my ears ringing.
“Why did you want the hearts?” I gave her a moment to answer, and when she didn’t, I applied more pressure. “Why ask us for what you had on hand in endless supply?”
“Cruelty?” Ambrose suggested. “Pettiness?” He chuckled. “No? What cause then, for your treachery?”
“I swore an oath to the girls’ father,” Natisha growled, “who was a member of the witchborn fae coven, that in exchange for his seed, I would not harm him or his. I could not harvest them for myself without breaking my word.”
“Why ask me to do it?” That worried me most. “Why not hire out the work? Or twist a bargain for it?”
“Your participation anchored my curse in your city, in your world, by your own hand.”
A bitter taste flooded my mouth, but I couldn’t reward her by showing how deep her words cut me.
“I am a creature of Faerie. I carried these children in my womb. They are mine and belong to my world.”
Before she reached the punchline, the remaining puzzle pieces snicked into place, and I experienced an epiphany.
“You can enter the archive because you’re of Faerie.” I laughed softly. “You just can’t exit it.”
With only witchborn fae entering and exiting the archive, I was willing to bet Remy had gotten it wrong. I figured anyone—or anything—could enter. Getting out again? That was the sticking point.
This was it. This was finally it. The truth. The real reason why she needed the hearts.
“They keyed the archive to witchborn fae, didn’t they?” I whistled through my teeth. “Makes you wonder if they didn’t lure you in here to add to their collection, doesn’t it? They had to know you couldn’t get out once you got in.”
Though her expression remained the same, crimson filled Natisha’s eyes, and I could tell I had gotten her thinking.
“This is all very Snow White.” Well, Evil Queen. “What are you going to do?” I laughed. “Eat the hearts?”
“Yes.” She stared at me blankly. “What else would I do with them?”
Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer, I guess.
Why lug them around in a backpack when you can carry them in your stomach?
“Why target my city?” I lost feeling where my fingers wrapped the swords’ hilts. “It’s a great city, don’t get me wrong, but is it worth all this?”
“Atlanta is not yours,” Natisha snarled. “You are merely the latest in a long line of necromancers with the hubris to assume you can control the land and its people. You are not the law. I do not recognize your authority.”
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with your ex, would it?” I made a thoughtful sound. “He ditched you, and now you’re going to destroy his home and his family? The one he made without you?”
“Those girls were mine.” Magic sparkled in her hair. “They were my life, my heart, and he stole them.”
“Wait.” I held up a hand. “I was told you ditched your kids for Faerie.”
Vicious laughter rose up the back of her throat, and yeah. That did not sound good for us.
“I offered myself to Archimedes as his mate. I was willing to lessen myself for him, a mere warg, and he banished me.”
“How did a simple warg banish a gwyllgi healer of immense power?”
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