Fates Entwined

by Jules Barnard

  He made a good point. She felt like hell.

  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she was calm again, she opened them. “What is going on? Why did they leave me down there to die?”

  Keen lay back and stared at the ceiling. “They didn’t intend to kill you. Most Fae have never spent time on Earth and don’t understand the needs of humans. Ulric didn’t realize you require food and warmth to survive. Fae are nearly immortal. We only die under extreme circumstances, and until recently, we’ve never known disease. We do not get sick, and injuries and malnourishment are not enough to kill us, unless the deprivation goes on for months.”

  So they hadn’t meant to kill her. “What about the things they said? That woman—the one with the gray hair—she suggested I was Halven. I thought she was confused, but then she and that man, Marlon, mentioned my father. And they weren’t talking about my dad. They were talking about a Fae.”

  Keen’s gaze snapped to Reese. “No.” His eyes were wide, intense again.

  She snorted. “That’s what I said.”

  He took in her body, as though he could see through the blankets. Then he reached out and tried to pull back the covers. “It cannot be.”

  “Hey!” She slapped his hand away a second time.

  She might wear the sexy dresses her mother bought her, but Reese’s body was hers and she didn’t give free looks. In fact, only one guy had seen what lay underneath her clothes, though everyone believed differently. Didn’t matter if they thought she slept around. And it didn’t matter what Keen thought either, because she knew the truth.

  Keen grabbed her trembling hand, twisting it this way and that. “The signs: shaking, which happens when Halven come into their powers; surviving for days under extreme circumstances no human could have survived.” His bright gaze lifted to hers. “I sense it now.” He stared past her. “I try not to sense anything around you, but if I pay attention—I sense it. The energy level you give off…different from before. You are Halven.” A hint of fear touched his voice.

  Reese swallowed and looked away. Her roommate Elena was Halven, and she had strange abilities. Reese didn’t want that. She wanted to be normal. Badass, but normal. “If it’s true, that would mean my mom slept with one of you. I don’t think my father could have slipped a newborn in under my mother’s nose.” She rolled to her back and covered her face with her hands.

  What was happening? She was supposed to go to college and build a new life—far away from the deranged one her parents had subjected her to. And now she found herself in a world more complex and disturbing than the one she’d left behind?

  Keen’s large palm covered her hands, and she realized her cheeks were damp with tears. He lifted her still trembling hand and twined their fingers. Sliding closer, he bridged the gap she’d created between them. And then his arm was surrounding her and pulling her close. “It will be all right.”

  She breathed in his scent. He smelled of cedar and something masculine and good. Comforting. Dammit. “Why are you being so nice?”

  She felt his heart skip a beat beneath her cheek. “Rest,” he said. “You need sleep in order to recover fully.”

  That wasn’t an answer, but she was too tired to argue.

  It seemed like seconds later when Reese woke again. She was wrapped in Keen’s arms. And her bare chest was flattened against his without the blankets separating them.

  Reese sucked in a breath. Keen had a firm hold on her, but his breathing was even, a light vibration coming from his throat—not a snore, more like a deep purr. Kind of cute, but shit! At some point the blankets had fallen, and she was still nearly naked. She must have snuggled up to keep warm. How the heck was she supposed to get out of this without waking him?

  She gingerly reached down for covers and slowly pulled a blanket higher.

  Keen shifted, his breathing less modulated. He tightened his hold on her, and the precarious grasp she had on the blanket broke.

  His head dipped into her hair and he seemed to breathe in, his nose nuzzling her ear.

  She froze, her heart pounding in her chest.

  A second later, the press of Keen’s fingers on her back stilled. “Reese?” His voice was groggy and deep.

  “Yep, still me.”

  He let out a harsh sigh, and one by one lifted his fingers from her back, until his hand was no longer on her at all. He rolled away and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He sat there for a moment, forearms on his black-clad thighs, staring straight ahead. “My apologies.”

  Reese gathered the blanket and brought it up and around her. “Do you always snuggle with your prisoners?”

  Another harsh breath escaped his chest and he stood. “You’re not my prisoner. But no, I do not.”

  For a moment, her heart was jumping all over the place. At his words, and at the appearance of him without his shirt on, which had her belly somersaulting. The man had an amazingly broad, muscular back.

  But this was Keen—the arrogant, aloof Fae who protected her roommate. Reese had never liked him, and it was best to remember that. Especially when he wasn’t wearing his shirt.

  Her stomach rumbled loudly. Embarrassingly. “Would it be too much to ask for some food? I will take unseasoned broth at this point. Matter of fact, that sounds heavenly.”

  He ran his hand through his hair, the breadth of his back and shoulders and the movement of muscles beneath his skin distracting her again. He shook his head and pulled a black long-sleeved shirt from a gold-upholstered chair, tugging it over his head. “Of course. I should have had something brought up.”

  He strode to the door of the large bedroom and opened it no more than an inch, then mumbled something to someone outside. Without looking at her, Keen crossed the room to a wooden wardrobe. “You should dress.”

  Actually, come to think of it, Keen hadn’t looked at her since he’d awakened. He’d been avoiding it entirely.

  “Well, I would be dressed if someone hadn’t decided to take off my clothes,” she said saucily.

  This time he glanced over, his expression stony. “You were dying. Removing that piece of fabric you used in place of a gown was the only way to save your life. You needed heat.”

  Reese swallowed and plastered a sarcastic smile on her face. She didn’t want to remember the dungeon and the fear that had smothered her while she lay there unable to move, barely able to breathe—wanted to forget it entirely. “Heat? You mean your body?”

  He growled. Actually growled. “You will dress.” He grabbed something from the wardrobe, seemingly without thought, and tossed it at her. “Then we will see about getting you out of here.”

  Reese raised her hand and caught the gown in midair, the billowing skirt flouncing down around her arms.

  She pulled it forward and stared at the pale blue monstrosity, scrunching her nose. “You can’t be serious. Don’t you have anything from this century?” Keen frowned, and she rolled her eyes. “Fine. Turn around so I can put this thing on.” She’d glimpsed other doors in the room—likely a bathroom among them—but she had no energy to stand.

  He did as she asked—shocking—and faced the wall. The one with a green mural depicting winged warriors in a bloody battle. Not exactly the motif she’d go for in a bedroom, but it was luxury compared to the dank cell where they’d originally held her.

  The stone dungeon, the four-poster bed she’d just slept in, and the rest of this ornate room—it was as though she’d entered another century. “We are in the same time dimension, right?” she asked. “I didn’t get sent back in history or anything, did I?”

  He sighed in exasperation. “Time travel is a human fiction. The Tirnan timeline coincides with the Earth realm…for the most part.”

  For the most part?

  She shook her head. Did it matter? She was stuck here and had bigger things to worry about. Like why they wanted her. Where Elena was. And how she was going to get home.

  Reese attempted to slip the puffy dress, which had enough fabric to cov
er three women, over her head. It took forever, but she managed to pull her arms through the proper holes and get it fastened with a bit of wiggling and stretching. At least Fae utilized modern conveniences like zippers.

  She tried to lift her arms over her head, but only managed to get them halfway up. The cut of the gown prevented full mobility.

  Whenever she’d seen Keen he was in a slim black uniform and military boots. This couldn’t be what his people wore on a regular basis.

  “You can turn around now.” She tugged on the collar that covered her neck. “What’s with the double standards? I don’t see men walking around in frilly shirts.”

  Keen’s mouth quirked as he took in the gown. “Finally, you wear clothing.”

  “Why in the world would you prefer a woman in this?”

  “It is proper. It is also what those at the palace don. Not everyone in this realm has such luxury. You should feel fortunate.” Keen tilted his head toward the door. “Your food has arrived.”

  A knock sounded a second later, and Reese started. “How did you know someone was at the door? I didn’t hear anything until they knocked.”

  He walked away, ignoring her.

  Typical. Did he ever answer a straight question?

  She craned her neck to see if her food had in fact arrived as Keen predicted.

  He greeted the person at the door and accepted a large tray, deftly toeing the thick wooden door closed behind him. He strode to the bed and placed the tray on top of the mattress beside her.

  Reese leaned over and lifted lids off plates. Pastries, there were pastries…and tea, butter…some kind of fruit thing shaped like a purple heart. She’d pass on the weird fruit, but yay for pastries.

  Breaking off a hunk of croissant, she shoved it in her mouth and closed her eyes, moaning with pleasure. “How do you plan to get me out of here?” she said around a mouthful of food. Not exactly elegant, but given she was hungry enough to ingest her arm, manners went out the window. “They didn’t seem anxious to let me go.” She eyed a dish of jam and slathered it on her next bite. “Said they wanted to monitor me for powers.”

  Keen shook his head. “Not all Halven acquire powers. It is extremely rare. Your roommate was one of the exceptions. A Halven must be of royal blood—the closest lineage to the angels—to have a chance of possessing abilities. Even then, it is not guaranteed.”

  Reese stopped chewing and raised her eyebrow. “Angels? No wonder you’re all so high and mighty. In any case, that Marlon guy said he sensed powers in me, and the woman agreed.”

  Keen strode to the window, staring out. “It is highly unlikely you will gain powers.”

  “But they told me—”

  “I will go to them and discuss your release,” he said. “They kidnapped you in order to get to Elena before she could create a cure for the disease. She managed to cure it anyway. They have no more use for you.” He leaned his wide palms against the frame of the window. “If they do not wish another war with Emain, they will negotiate your release.”

  Reese shrugged and kept eating. Keen didn’t believe she had powers, and why should she care? It was a far-fetched notion.

  She considered the bracelet Marlon had been interested in. She pulled up the sleeve of her dress, because the darn thing covered every inch of her skin. As though her body were shameful—which made her hate the dress even more. “While you’re down there, find out about this emblem. They said it’s my father’s. If nothing else, I’d like to know who he is.”

  Keen turned, eyes narrowing on her arm. He walked over and went to one knee in front of her, lightly touching the bracelet.

  Up close, Reese saw the smoothness of his pale skin and the light beard that had grown overnight along his square jaw that was a few shades darker than his hair. His lips were full, a light raspberry. She could believe Keen descended from angels. His beauty was otherworldly and annoyingly distracting. Fortunately, his irritating personality offset all the hotness.

  Keen made a sound deep in his throat. One of frustration. He said something in a language she didn’t understand, but that she’d bet was a curse, given the vehemence behind it. He stood.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, preferring this side of Keen. Cuddly Keen had her going all gooey inside. Grumpy Keen was much easier to handle.

  He strode toward the door. “Remain here until I return.”

  Reese was about to argue with his order, but then she reconsidered. The food was in this room and she was starved; no need to get sassy now. But Keen could damn well expect a full interrogation once he returned.

  Her bracelet had meant something to him; she could see it on his face. And she wanted to know what that was.

  4

  Keen left the palace guest bedroom while Reese ate her first solid meal in days, and descended two flights of stairs to the queen’s quarters.

  It couldn’t be. Reese Fisher could not be the daughter of Hakon Radnor. That would make her… No. There was a mistake.

  After he’d attempted to leave the dungeon with Reese, a regiment of the queen’s guards had come to take him away. Or kill him. Then they’d seen the state of their small female prisoner, who was near death.

  Portia was no fool. She’d kept Reese captive for a reason. Once her men had confirmed Reese’s physical state, she’d given them the order to provide Keen a room in which to nurse the small human back to health. Now that Reese lived, Keen had to negotiate a new deal.

  Seven New Kingdom guards waited outside the queen’s chambers. They sized Keen up before grudgingly allowing him entrance. There was no need for another weapons search. They’d removed his weapons days ago and he’d not been left alone since he arrived, except inside the bedroom with Reese. Even then, he’d been too busy keeping Reese warm to find a way to arm himself.

  Inside the suite, Portia reclined on a ruby chaise with her eyes closed while a serving girl rubbed her shoulders. Marlon St. Just, the mastermind behind the virus that had nearly wiped out Keen’s entire race, sat at a nearby table typing on a laptop. Marlon was a brilliant scientist, and it seemed he’d brought his work with him to Tirnan. Which was not a good sign, considering the man’s interest in creating diseases that killed Fae.

  Beatrice, Portia’s daughter, sat across from St. Just, polishing her sword and looking bored. Her strawberry-blond hair was pulled back in braids that ran along the sides of her head in a traditional female warrior pattern.

  The last time Keen had seen Beatrice, no one had known her mother was behind the disease sweeping their land. Beatrice had taken Keen by surprise and glamoured him into forgetting his duty to protect Elena. The results could have been catastrophic. Fortunately, Portia and Beatrice were still lying low and hadn’t dared make an attempt on Elena’s life. They’d merely wished to distract the girl and delay her work on the antivirus.

  Keen would never forget that Beatrice was just as sadistic as her mother.

  One of the guards closed the door behind Keen, but not before Keen caught the angry glint in the man’s eye as he glanced across the room at Marlon.

  So not all of Portia’s soldiers approved of the Halven’s presence? Good.

  For a moment, Keen considered taking all three of them out. What they’d done to his people… So many deaths on their hands. And what they’d done to Reese. Keen was one of the Fae’s best warriors; he could disarm them and kill them in seconds, along with the guards outside the room. But he could not escape the palace along with the girl. Reese would be at the mercy of his people, and Fae barely tolerated Halven, even after the Halven Elena saved them.

  “I wish to return the girl to the Earth realm,” Keen said to Portia. “Her health is stable for now.”

  Portia glanced over, then closed her eyes again. “No.”

  Keen might be a deadly warrior, but like all Fae, he was capable of keeping his emotions in check. “You have no more use for her. The Halven Elena cured our people of the disease. Holding on to her friend as bait no longer serves a purpose.” Though K
een knew that wasn’t true. They held Reese for another reason. If he restated the obvious, perhaps they’d reveal it. “You nearly killed Reese in your attempt to keep her here. Every moment she remains puts her at risk.”

  This time Portia didn’t bother to open her eyes before speaking. “The Halven stays. She will be useful.”

  Keen clenched his jaw. “If you wish her to survive, then allow me to guard her. Our brethren do not understand humans or Halven, and there is little tolerance for her kind.”

  Portia swatted the serving girl’s hands away and sat up. “And why should I allow you to remain in my kingdom? You are not an ally, Keen Albrecht. You are fortunate I do not have you beheaded. Even now my curiosity as to why you risk your life for the girl is the only thing that keeps you alive.”

  Portia would not believe him if he told her the truth. That Keen had made a promise to Elena to find her friend and bring her back safely.

  Halven were considered unnecessary. To make such a promise would seem foolish, but the Halven Elena was special. Powerful in her own right, she’d saved his people. Keen knew firsthand the sacrifices she’d made for them.

  He’d taken a great risk in traveling here. But in all of the battles he’d fought, no one had managed to extinguish his immortal life—and he had no intention of giving it up now. He’d keep his promise to Elena and return Reese safely. “If you wish control of Emain, you will need my assistance. The girl’s health is integral to gaining what you want.”

  “Utter rubbish!” Portia stood forcefully. “She is only Halven. One I may dispose of at my will.”

  “If she were merely Halven, you would not have allowed me to save her. As Elena Rosales has proven, Halven are not so useless as we once believed. They can wield great power. The power to kill”—he glanced at Marlon, who was paying attention now—“and the power to heal.”

  Beatrice sat forward, her gaze hardening.

  Portia held up her hand to stay her daughter. She tipped her head to the side. “Continue.”

  “Emain will see proper care of Reese Fisher as an act of diplomacy. I will remain here to ensure she is kept safe and alive, and report as much to Emain when the time comes. That will give you the power to negotiate a truce with them.”