A Fae with a conscience?
“Hold on. Before you go, let me ask you something. You treated me like a piece of meat when they dumped me in that cell. Is this change of heart all because you feel bad?”
He shifted his feet. “I thought you were a human when you first arrived.”
“So?”
“It would have made you…less.”
“Less, as in no biggie if you’d used my body for your pleasure?”
He winced lightly—only it was mental. He’d made no physical movement.
She was losing it. Discovering Fae existed—that she was a part of it—her mind was beginning to snap.
“I would have never touched you, or anyone, without approval,” he said. “But I’ve heard humans are…easy.” He lifted one shoulder. “I was curious.”
She sighed. There might even be some truth to that. Fae were beautiful; they probably never got turned down. “You realize there wouldn’t be Halven if you guys weren’t so eager to sleep with the riffraff?”
Ulric exuded light remorse. Again, not from something he did; she’d sensed it. “Halven are considered a distasteful side effect. No offense, miss. The Halven Elena saved our people. Some are worthy.”
“All Halven and humans have value.”
“As you say.”
Reese took a deep breath. Ulric was trying, even if he was extremely misled. Fae had been raised with these beliefs for who knew how long? That they’d changed their thinking at all was probably miraculous.
One battle at a time. “Before you go, can you talk these ladies into making me something comfortable to wear? Pants and a top? Something I can move in.”
He nodded and approached the head seamstress. She wore a matronly high-necked gown with her measuring tape tied like a belt around her waist. Reese wasn’t optimistic, but she was desperate for something other than Victorian dresses, and Ulric seemed in a charitable mood.
He spoke in a low tone to the woman. The woman’s mouth pinched, but she gave him a curt nod.
Ulric dipped his head toward Reese, then headed for the door, exiting the room. It was a simple gesture, that head dip, but Reese picked up on so much more.
Emotions he hadn’t shown or in any way expressed.
Ulric still felt shame, but he was cheerier than when he’d entered…and Reese knew this because she could tell his emotions like her own. The same way she knew the head seamstress was irritated, and that the younger one was excited.
What. The. Hell.
The excitement from the younger seamstress she might have read from physical cues, because the girl was bubbly, but detecting the other Fae’s emotions? No way.
This couldn’t be the powers Keen had talked about. It wasn’t the ability to create fire or move objects. This was just…weird.
She was hungry, that was all. She’d not eaten nearly enough.
Reese reached for a sandwich from the food tray. It contained some mysterious meat substance she tried not to think about while she ate.
And if she could tell her seamstresses’ emotions as they flittered around the room, she kept it to herself…until two days later.
“Where are we going?” Reese nearly jogged to keep up with Keen’s long stride, all the while taking in her surroundings.
The New Kingdom palace was bigger than she’d imagined—long corridors with beautiful light stone flooring and intricate wainscoting along the walls and niches. The niches and built-in shelving were filled with statues of warriors and angels. Paintings on the walls looked like masterpieces, only no masterpieces she’d ever seen in the museums she’d visited with her wealthy parents.
“You said you wanted exercise,” Keen replied without slowing his pace. “We will train.”
Reese peered in an open doorway they passed. It led to the biggest room she’d ever seen, and that was saying a lot, considering the ballrooms and homes she’d been in, growing up in Hollywood. The stunning passageway where they walked looked miniscule compared to the room, which seemed to extend the length of a city block.
And then Reese’s brain caught up to Keen’s words. “Train? For what?”
His jaw firmed. “You need fighting skills. The longer they contain you, the more concerned I grow about their intentions.”
Reese swiveled her head distractedly at the statue of what looked to be a woman making love to a tall, muscular man with wings. What the… She shook her head and raced to keep up. “Right, well, you said they wanted to use me. We just don’t know how.”
Keen stopped suddenly and Reese almost ran into him. “What do they expect to gain from you? And what do they hope to gain from your father?” he asked rhetorically and with a great deal of agitation.
“Father? You mean that guy my mother had the affair with? Who cares? It was a one-night stand. I doubt he cares I’m alive.”
Keen sighed harshly. “Your kind might be blasé about coupling—”
“Whoa, coupling? You mean sex. Are Fae really that uptight that you can’t say the word?”
He stepped forward, but Reese held her ground. He might be big and striking, but she was no pushover. “Coupling is not considered an act one does for the simple pleasure of it.”
Reese snorted. “I highly doubt that. Ulric…” The look Keen leveled at her made her pause before continuing that train of thought. Keen could be a scary-ass warrior when he wanted to be, and the look he was giving her right now said he was on the brink of rage.
Interesting.
He quirked an eyebrow, but the tension in his jaw didn’t subside. “You were saying? Ulric what? He told me he did not touch you.”
“He didn’t, but he made it clear he’d be happy to warm me up.” She grinned, enjoying the figurative steam coming out of Keen’s ears. “In other words, he flirted with me when he thought I was nothing but a lowly human only good for…coupling. You do know what flirting is, don’t you?”
He let out a long, slow breath. Was he even listening? “I will make sure he pays for his words.”
Okay, that wasn’t the reaction she’d wanted. Well, maybe a little, but not that extreme. “It was nothing. The point is, I highly doubt Fae don’t find pleasure in the act.”
“I never said that.” Something flickered in Keen’s eyes.
Oh God, he needed to stop looking at her that way. Every once in a while, he’d shoot her a heated gaze, like the one he was giving her now, and it messed with her head. When he crowded her with all of that arrogant warrior rolling off him, his words giving a different message than his body—it was confusing as hell.
Keen glanced to the side. “It takes most Fae centuries to sire a full-Fae child, and some never do. There are social rules to ensure paternity. If a man chooses a woman, she must be faithful to him. They may part after a time and partner with another.”
She raised her finger. “Hold up. Do you mean the woman has to be faithful…but not the guy?”
“It is our way. The man must know he is the father.”
“Kind of a double standard, don’t you think?”
“It is the only way to ensure the child belongs to her mate.”
“Or you could see a doctor and ask him or her to run a paternity test.”
“We’ve never needed doctors; there are no such tests in Tirnan. Running a human test, with the physiological differences between our two species, would be impossible. A human doctor would have to make allowances in Fae and human genetics, and our existence has remained a secret from humans for millennia. It must continue to remain so. Our forefathers insisted on it.”
“Your what? You mean the angels?”
“Humans have varying beliefs about religion. Different gods and deities—each religion claiming to own us. Knowledge of our kind would be controversial at the very least, and would cause war in the extreme.”
Reese didn’t know how many wars had been fought over differences in religious beliefs. A lot. “Fine, human doctors are out, but you could still use human science in Tirnan to determine the fat
her of a child. Not like you guys aren’t already utilizing other modern conveniences. Or—now here’s an idea—Fae could use birth control and then you wouldn’t have to worry about who the father was. You could be intimate for pleasure.” She made sure to give him a sultry smile on that last word.
Keen scowled. “Birth control? Our greatest wealth is furthering our race, particularly the noble lines closest to the angels. We do not prevent conception.”
“Okaaay.” She held up her hands. “I get it. It’s a touchy subject. We were talking about my biological father, anyway, and I still don’t see why he would care about me. My being a mere Halven and all. He returned to Tirnan to be with his Fae daughter. No one around here cares about the half-bloods.”
“You are correct. We detest Fae-diluted offspring. They’re a nuisance and defy everything we hold dear, weakening our abilities.”
She clutched her chest in mock pain. “That hurts, Keen. But if it’s true…” She paused for dramatic emphasis. “Why did they ask Elena for help? And why are they holding me here?”
He looked away. “Halven of nobility are—”
“Awesome-sauce. Kickass. Gorgeous specimens of perfect—”
“Unusual,” he said.
Reese glanced at the ceiling and shrugged. “I’ll take it. In other words, I’m extra special. I still don’t see how that makes a difference. My father is a Fae with noble blood. They think I’ll have powers…” Reese’s voice drifted off. The emotions she’d picked up from her seamstresses and Ulric came back to her. Emotions she’d read without physical cues. She didn’t want to believe that could be her power, because it seemed weird, and to tell the truth, kind of weak. But what if it was?
“What’s wrong?” Keen asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing.” Reese never read Keen’s emotions, and she didn’t think the abilities Halven possessed were choosy that way. What she’d experienced couldn’t be her power. “If Halven are so universally detested, why would my father want anything to do with me, powers or not?”
Keen stepped back and opened a door across the hall. “Elena saved our people. It left a lasting impression. They may want to keep you in Tirnan for your abilities, something we prize. A few believe Halven of noble blood could be of use—never for procreation, but for other purposes.”
Reese rolled her eyes. “Right—never for sex. Except, that’s how we got here,” she said, circling back to the argument she most enjoyed.
Keen frowned. “Enough.” He waved her inside a room that looked different from the others she’d seen thus far. This one was—insignificant. Kind of plain. With gym equipment. “The queen and I have come to an agreement, and I’ve been given access to the training rooms. We will train, and attempt to prepare as best we can for what lies ahead.”
Sure, because that didn’t sound ominous.
6
It was a good thing Reese had asked Ulric to convince the seamstress to give her something comfortable to wear, because Keen was bent on breaking her ass in training.
“Again,” Keen said, after Reese had performed twenty perfect roundhouse kicks.
“I told you”—she started another set—“I’m a black belt in tae kwon do. It was the one extracurricular my mom allowed me to choose. I won best in my weight class senior year of high school.”
“That may be, but you are short and you weigh less than my sword.”
“I’m not short, I’m five foot six!”
“Exactly. Short.”
She gave up arguing, because she was small compared to the six- and seven-foot Fae.
“During a fight with a female,” he continued, pacing annoyingly behind her, “you might be evenly matched, even with the Fae’s taller stature, but not against a male. And not against either male or female if they possess weapons or use magic.”
Reese could fight a six-foot opponent and kick his ass, as long as she accounted for his longer reach, but not a seven-foot opponent. And Keen was right. If they had weapons or magical abilities, she was screwed.
“You also use your legs too much,” he pointed out. “That alone will not save you in a fight. You must practice arm strikes.”
She nailed the bag with an axe kick. “Punching didn’t earn me points in competitions.”
“There are no rules when fighting Fae. The first to kill wins.”
Reese faltered, and her next kick landed off. She grabbed the bag and caught her breath, letting his words sink in.
“We will focus on full-body battle tactics,” he said, and walked to the center of the mat. He got into ready position. “Perform overhand rights, and uppercuts.”
She let go of the bag and moved closer. “You want me to hit you?”
He sneered. “If you can.”
Oh, she could. She’d been waiting for the opportunity to strike that smug look off his face. Bring. It.
Reese enjoyed hammering Keen with kicks and punches, but the darn Fae was fast. She didn’t hit him nearly as often as she would have liked.
She made one last uppercut attempt—and found herself twisted around, her arm locked across her stomach and her back to Keen’s chest.
His breath swept over her ear and the side of her face, as though his head had dipped closer. “You will need to work harder if you wish to best one of us.” His words came out more sexy than threatening.
Her throat suddenly went dry, her heart hammering. “I need rest.”
Keen released her as quickly as he’d disarmed her.
She limped toward the door. “And I could use another one of those trays of pastries and fruit. And cheese. I need lots of cheese. Please don’t tell me what kind of animal it comes from. I’m afraid to ask after sampling the meat in the sandwich I ate this afternoon. It tasted gamey.”
He hooked the kicking bag off to the side. “The animals in Tirnan are different from those on Earth.”
She closed her eyes and held up her hand. “Shhh, no more. Your food tastes good; that’s all I need to know.”
He shrugged and walked her to her room, stopping outside the door. “You are a better fighter than I assumed.”
“Why, thank you.” She smiled broadly. It was one of the best compliments he could have given her.
“Tomorrow, we will focus on weapons.”
Whoa, what? “But weapons kill.”
“It is very difficult to kill a Fae, and highly unlikely you will accomplish it. If you should find yourself in a fight, having the ability to maim might allow you time to escape.”
So he wanted her to run and hide? That wasn’t her style. Though… “Weapons. Even if your kind can’t die from them, I’m not a big fan of guns and such.”
“You must get used to them if you are to survive. I cannot watch your every move.” Keen glanced away. “There is one more thing. Portia is hosting a celebration in a week. She wishes you to be there. You will wear one of the gowns the servants made you.”
“Yeah, what’s with all those dresses?” She glanced down at the stretchy black pants, sleek boots, and the comfortable black tunic she wore. “This is way more my style while we’re here. And, hey, it’s better for training.”
“Agreed. You will wear the uniform when we train. The dresses are for formal events. During your stay here, you’re considered a part of the New Kingdom court. You must dress as the nobles do. I convinced Portia that if the Fae see you as a friend to the nobility, it might prevent them from attacking you.”
“Awesome.” She shook her head. “Not like I don’t stand out anyway. I’m fair like the rest of you, but I’m still short, as you’ve so graciously pointed out.”
“This is true. Anyone paying attention to your energy level can also tell you’re Halven. Not to mention, the entire palace is aware of your presence.”
“Exactly. So why do I need to wear those giant dresses?”
Keen’s mouth quirked up on one side. “Because they are appropriate.” He nodded at a guard outside her room, gesturing for the man to open the heavy wooden door.
“Those monstrosities are what you find appropriate?” she called after him as he walked away.
“At the palace? Yes. Anywhere else?” He looked over his shoulder and down her body. “What you have on would do.”
“Because it covers every inch of me?”
“Precisely.”
Grrr. She’d show him “appropriate.”
7
Reese’s week was filled with fittings and training and eating. And boredom. How long would she be stuck in this place? What was happening back home? Was Elena okay? It was killing her not knowing.
She plopped onto the giant bed in her room. It was gorgeous and so comfortable it felt like she was lying on a cloud. Regardless of the luxury she came from, Reese was no delicate flower. But being catered to like a princess? Not such a bad thing.
She leafed through one of the books the younger seamstress had pilfered for her. Most of the books in this place were written in a strange language Reese couldn’t identify, let alone read, but this one was a children’s book and written in English. It described how Tirnan had been created. Kind of fascinating stuff, actually.
If Keen knew she was reading children’s books, it would give him more ammunition to mock her.
He’d busted her ass all week in training, and he was right about one thing: she’d never stand up to a Fae. They were faster, stronger, and much, much taller. It was time to admit the truth.
In Tirnan, Reese was short.
She sighed. Keen wanted her to train with a sword, and she’d been arguing against it. The last thing she wanted was to truly injure someone. She considered the Fae a bunch of uptight assholes, but she didn’t want to kill them. Was he crazy? But Keen had been adamant. And she couldn’t ignore the truth. If it came down to a fight with one of them, she’d be quickly overtaken.
Reese flipped through the pages of the children’s book and tried to learn something that might give her an edge.
And the land Tír na nÓg (Tirnan) was created to sustain the children conceived between angel and human, and blessed with powers. Three sons, the angels Gabriel, Zachariel, and Tobias, brought their fair children to live in the land of everlasting youth, beauty, and joy. There they prospered in harmony. Then one day, a Fallen emerged from the center of Tirnan, at the heart of the Land of Ice, and soiled their perfect world.
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