A Heart of Ice (Araneae Nation)

by Hailey Edwards

  “All right.” Isolde flicked her wrist in dismissal. “Go have your fun. I’ll guard our host.”

  My eyes bulged as dozens of Mimetidae crept from the shadows. I hadn’t seen them, hadn’t known they were there. Excitement punched through my fear. Yes, these silent warriors were the ones I needed. Leaning forward, I tracked their steady advance. Isolde allowed it, shuffling aside, giving me ample room to watch them work. I think she’d planned to all along.

  She slapped my back. “This, child, is what I call living.” She loosed a war whoop that her clansmen lifted higher, louder, until their bloodcurdling cries filled the chill air.

  Theridiidae who had loomed over me, taunting me, were cut down by Mimetidae steel.

  I inched closer to the fray, my fingers digging into the statue meant to shield me. Relief swamped me, and I pressed my cheek to the cold stone. Watching their swordsmanship lulled me into a false sense of well-being. Though I was still in danger, I exalted in the momentary reprieve.

  “They’re beautiful to watch.” I complimented her clan’s skill, belatedly realizing my gaze had stuck to the same tall warrior, mesmerized by his fluid motions and perfect form. Darkness shrouded his face, and I wished for a moment I could see the expression hidden there. Was his face as flushed as mine? His teeth bared in my same vicious smile? Oh, but that I held my bow.

  I took a step as if to join them.

  Isolde gripped my shoulder. “Not now, you’ll only get in his way.” Amusement filled her tone, and I had no doubt she’d noticed the male I couldn’t tear my gaze from even to look at her.

  When the last Theridiidae was slain, the tall warrior jerked his chin, summoning the others to follow him. They dissolved into shadow, leaving me with Isolde, who turned me to her.

  “Gods’ web.” She led me to a stone bench and sat me down. “Put this on before your teeth shatter.” She shrugged off her coat and passed it to me, but my arms shook too hard to ring the sleeves. “Old as you are, you ought to know better than to run around half naked during the northland winter.” With a grunt, she dressed me. “Now, what’s this about?”

  “I apologize for the vagueness of my letter.” I was humbled by the fact she’d come at my request without so much as a warning on my part. “I wish I could have gone into greater detail.”

  “I got the gist. That’s what matters.” She frowned at me. “What’s happened to Reine?”

  Sightless eyes…blackened skin…the stink of rotten flesh…both dead…

  I exhaled, spitting out the words before their taste choked me. “Mother is dead.”

  “I thought as much.” Isolde lowered her head. “How did she pass?”

  “She fell ill this morning. Her hand was cramping.” My throat closed. “She brushed it off, said it was old age catching up to her.” I finally voiced my fear. “I say she was poisoned.”

  “Have you any suspects?” She backtracked. “Or better yet, any proof?”

  “I saw a young male leaving my parents’ room—a guard, or so I assumed. Mother and Father were expecting me last night, so I thought perhaps he was meant as an escort.” I crushed the flash of memory too late. I inhaled long and slow. “Before I reached their door, he shoved me aside and fled. By the time I heard the alarm, I’d found…”

  “You don’t have to say it.” She waved me into silence. “Your father was Theridiidae. I’d wager Ennis taught you to recognize signs of envenomation in case you or your siblings carried his genes. An accidental bite is a hell of a way to lose young.” She exhaled through her teeth. “Wait. If Reine—Ennis’s gone too, then?”

  “Yes.” They were a nested pair, and their life threads were joined. “He followed her.”

  “Gods, Reine.” She stared at the sky. “I’m going to miss you.”

  Seconds ticked past while she gazed upward, her cheeks glistening in the moonlight.

  I broke the silence, answering her earlier question. “Father taught me the signs.”

  “Then you know they were poisoned without a doubt. I trust your judgment.” She scrubbed her face with her palms. “What do you want?” She pegged me with a hard stare. “Say it straight. Our swords are coated with the blood of your enemies, my enemies now. What’s next?”

  My fingernails bit into my palms. “The Theridiidae must be driven from Erania.”

  She nodded. “Done.”

  “We’ll need protection.”

  “You’re to be the new Araneidae maven.” Her pause was thoughtful. “You’ve no partisan?”

  “No.” Heat tried to thaw my frozen cheeks. “I’ve been somewhat…sheltered.”

  Isolde whistled. “Well, that’s good luck on my part.”

  I gave no response.

  “All right, fair enough.” She rolled her shoulders. “You’ve stated your terms. Now you’ll hear mine. In exchange for declaring ourselves the Theridiidae’s enemies, clearing your city and guarding your home, you’ll wed a male from my clan and outfit each of my clansmen in Araneidae armor.”

  My mouth fell open. “That’s outrageous. I’m not wedding a Mimetidae.”

  “You’re too good for us, eh?” She laughed. “How’s this? I want that armor. It’s nonnegotiable.” Her eyes shone with new light. “You carry out the binding ceremony with a male of my choosing. During the month before the next new moon, I promise your new partisan will give you the gift you want most. If he doesn’t, then you’re free. No wedding. No strings.”

  “What can he possibly offer me?”

  She snorted. “You mean that you can’t afford to purchase yourself?”

  I had the grace to blush.

  Isolde leaned in and bared her teeth. “He’ll give you revenge.”

  Saliva pooled in my mouth, the promise of my parents’ killer brought to justice the sweetest temptation she could have offered. Armor I could afford to gift the Mimetidae. The use of my body, I’d give that up as well if it meant keeping my people safe. The rest I’d ponder later.

  Though Isolde regarded me kindly, her gray hair and wrinkles making her grandmotherly in appearance, she was a renowned warrior in her own right. She led the Mimetidae after all. If she wanted, she could take what she desired from me with the same ease the Theridiidae could.

  Instead, alliance hung in the frigid air between us. Join our clans. Start anew. Take revenge.

  “I’ll agree to the binding, and I’ll outfit your clan with our finest armor, but if your clansman fails to avenge my parents’ death by the new moon, I won’t wed him. If he fails, then your clan must remain and safeguard us until I find a partisan of my own choosing.”

  Her smile was slow in coming. No doubt she had weighed every angle before saying, “Agreed.” She stood and grabbed my arm, hauling me in the direction I’d come from, where the tunnels began. Waving her hand, Isolde waited until a male appeared at my elbow. “Take her home.”

  I took a step before facing her. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. We bargained. We each got what we wanted. It was a fair deal.” She cocked her head to one side. “Know this. I want results, the same as you.” Her toothy grin made another appearance. “The faster your clan is bound to mine, the faster our swords will lift in your defense.” Her expression turned earnest. “I want to help. Gods know I do, but I can’t afford to pay favors when I’ve empty pockets. We’ll reclaim your city, protect your people—”

  “—but not until after the ceremony,” I supplied.

  She nodded an affirmation.

  Despite the way my stomach knotted, I set my jaw. “Can you secure the sanctuary?”

  “I can and will.” Her gaze lifted to the stars. “I’ll see to your parents’ arrangements.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll see to them myself so long as you’ll guard my stewards.”

  “Consider it done.”

  Another gesture brought several males forth. I noticed the tall warrior was not among them. Scanning each face, I wondered which was meant for me. I decided it didn’t matter. I could afford no fan
ciful notions of courtship now.

  “Have your chosen at the sanctuary in an hour.” I gave her my back. “Don’t be late.”

  She slapped her thigh. “No cold feet on this one.”

  Her merry cackles echoed as I marched down the tunnel’s gullet and toward my fate.

  Silk whispered beneath the soles of my bare feet. Each step down the aisle carried me closer to the podium, and the cleric and the destiny I couldn’t avoid. I was the eldest daughter of the Araneidae clan heads, and the youngest maven ever appointed. My reign had begun in blood.

  News of my parents’ death had traveled fast. On its heels came the realization I alone controlled the purse strings for the richest clan in the Araneae Nation, and I was unbound to a male, placing me and my clan in mortal danger. This farce of a binding was my only hope.

  Exhaling a shaky breath, I continued my procession with my head high and eyes forward.

  My steps slowed as I noticed the barren walls. I had no cause to visit the sanctuary during winter, when the ornate tapestries were packed for the season. Their absence robbed the space of its comforting presence. Woven with the life threads of nested pairs, the tapestries were a treasure greater than gold. They were also the reason I ordered my cleric to remain belowground and guard them rather than preside over the ceremony. I wished for my cleric, but theirs must do.

  Isolde’s warriors ringed the room. Their armor held a dullness to match their expressions, both having lost their shine long ago. The tallest among them stood two heads above my height of five feet. His black hair brushed broad shoulders, and his eyes, the fierce green of new growth in spring, tracked me with predatory interest that raised gooseflesh. He seemed…familiar to me.

  Mimetidae picked their teeth with the bones of their enemies, after said enemies were spit-roasted and eaten. My palms sweated as I wondered which of his hungers heated his gaze.

  Once I reached the cleric’s feet, I knelt. I bowed my head, but not before I glimpsed twin shrouds spun from the same saffron-colored silk as the runner rolled down the center aisle. Araneidae gold, my clan color. There was no mistaking that shade of dye, no comfortable illusion I could retreat behind, no escaping the fact my parents lay there, lifeless and gone from this world. Reining in hot tears, I stared where my hands clutched the silken fall of my gown. I was golden and glorious. Even my dark hair shimmered with glittering ribbons and adornments, all woven by the males of my clan.

  Amazing what could be accomplished in an hour, when lives were at stake.

  Rhythmic pounding in my ears unsettled my stomach. I closed my eyes and wished I could block out the sound of the battering ram slamming home against the sanctuary’s barred doors. Frustrated beyond patience, I coughed into my fist and hoped the cleric took the hint and began.

  He didn’t. Instead, he gestured toward Isolde, and I glanced where she lounged on a bench in the first row. Smoke spiraled from the corner of her mouth courtesy of the rolled tube of paper pinched between her lips. Embers flared red at the end before she stood and stamped out the light with her boot heel.

  Though my lip almost curled at her crassness, I honored the manners Mother had taught me.

  “Isolde, Maven of the Mimetidae clan,” he addressed her. “You’ve come bearing a gift?”

  Her weathered face split wide in a grin. “As a matter of fact, I have.” She turned to her right, and I followed her seeking gaze until it lit upon the face of the same tall warrior I’d admired. A jerk of her chin summoned him forward. “I offer my youngest son, Rhys, as partisan.”

  I gaped as he approached. He was my gift? I’d known her plan, but I hadn’t realized…

  He stopped at my side. His fingers drummed the hilt of his sword, which made the worn scabbard tap his muscular calf left bare by his ivory ceremonial kilt. I glanced between Rhys and the cleric, who nodded encouragement as he asked, “You would serve as this maven’s partisan?”

  My gaze flew to Rhys’s face where I read grim acceptance. “I will serve her.”

  Regret tightened my chest, but I tamped it down. Both of us were prisoners of fate now.

  Dog with a Bone

  © 2014 Hailey Edwards

  Black Dog, Book 1

  Half-bloods with Thierry’s skill set are given two options. They can join the conclave’s marshal program, or they can pack their bags. Turn down the job offer, and you’ve just shredded your residency pass for the mortal realm and booked yourself a one-way ticket to Faerie.

  Texas is the only home Thierry has ever known, and she’s not going anywhere. Even if it means following in her notorious father’s footsteps as a peacekeeper. But pinning on the badge opens her eyes to the fact sometimes fae need protection too, and that sometimes humans are the real monsters.

  Chapter One

  Burnt ozone tingled in my nose. I inhaled deeply, but all I scented was the coming storm. Thunder boomed overhead, rumbling through the ground under my feet. I was still hunched behind a twisted metal sculpture of a giant rooster when the first lukewarm raindrops splattered on my cheeks.

  Movement on my right slammed the brakes on my heart. I squinted where I thought I glimpsed a pale blur, but the sun was too far gone and the scrapyard too dark for me to tell what it had been.

  My left palm tingled with suppressed energy. My kind of magic wasn’t allowed at the marshal academy.

  I had to go. Every second I stood here exposed on three sides was an opportunity to get caught. I filled my lungs until they burned then exhaled slowly, hoping for a clue. Nothing.

  It’s now or never.

  Shoving off the rooster’s metallic wing, I ran as fast as I could toward the tower at the center of the rusting maze. Even this far away I spotted the white flag plastered against its pole. If I could just reach it, all this ended. Done. Over. If I had that flag, I could go home. If I got there first.

  That was a whole lot of ifs.

  “Cadet Thackeray,” a low voice rumbled.

  My pulse leapt. New plan. Forget the tower. If Shaw had my taste in his mouth, he would not let me reach it. I needed a new hiding spot now before he got close enough to use his lure on me. Once I drew in the hot scent of his skin, it was over. I was lost. His heat would snare me, and I would be his.

  As if I wasn’t already.

  After darting past a promising heap, I hesitated until spotting a pair of large red ears sticking up from behind the twisted carcass of what once was a desk. Mei. Best friends shared a lot of things, but their hiding place during final exam was not one of them. I left the small fox to her den and kept running.

  Sliding around the corner, I left the small-parts section of the yard and headed toward the stacks of crushed vehicles and rusted-out skeletons of construction equipment. I always avoided this section and the prickly sensation it inspired on my nape. Granted, the odds of the stacks falling and crushing me to a half-blooded fae pulp were pretty slim, but I didn’t want to be the exception that proved the rule.

  Mud splashed up my legs and soaked my sneakers. I paused to scent the wind, gulping a lungful of patchouli-and-bergamot-flavored air. My skin sizzled and my head whirled as I fought the urge to follow that hot fragrance to the even hotter man producing it. Bastard. He wasn’t playing fair. Incubus lures were too damn tasty, and I was already nursing one hell of a sweet tooth where my instructor was concerned.

  With a frustrated growl, I wound through the automotive graveyard until I stumbled past a truck with its cab mostly intact. I crawled over an engine block to reach the door handle and gave it a tug. Water lubricated its rusty hinges, and it swung open with a soft whine. I crawled inside and sank onto the floorboard.

  Five minutes to catch my breath. Then I would make a break for it. The tower wasn’t that far. I wasn’t the only prey trapped in this corrugated maze, nor was I the easiest mark out there.

  I relaxed into the darkness while mentally pinpointing my location and my best exit strategy.

  Scratching noises perked my ears. I tensed, ready to bolt, but heard
only rain pelting the roof.

  Praying I hadn’t plopped down into a mouse nest, I held still and turned my thoughts back to the quickest way to reach the tower. It was tall, built like a tree stand. Climbing it would be a piece of—

  I heard it again. Claws raked over metal. Louder this time.

  Lightning struck as I peered through the driver’s side window, outlining a pale, masculine shape. Cruel nails, bone white and razor sharp, traced a rivulet of water down the glass. The handle clicked. I kicked out and jammed my heel down on the stubby door lock. Through the pane, Shaw glowered.

  I felt pretty smug until he speared his fingers into the seams and tore the door from its frame.

  “You should have run,” he said, fingers circling my ankle and jerking me toward him.

  I kicked at his fist and yanked on my leg, but he was too strong. He dragged me forward until he could reach my shirt. Gripping my collar, he pulled me upright, off the floorboard and against his chest. He trailed his nose from the shell of my ear down my throat where my neck met my shoulder.

  “I did run.” I gasped as his scent enveloped me. “You’re faster than you look.”

  Coarse laughter vibrated through his chest into mine. “I can be, when I see something I want.”

  My smartass reply stuttered and died on my tongue.

  “Speechless,” he mused, drawing back to peer into my face with eyes gone ravenous.

  Tearing my gaze from his, I stared past his broad shoulders at my endgame, at the soaked flag wringing itself on the pole as winds from the summer storm buffeted the tower and ripped at its hem.

  I let him think he had won, let him hold me against him until I was free of the truck and could see a clear path for my feet. While hunger turned his eyes opaque, I admit it, I played the damsel card.

  Once the toes of my shoes hit dirt, Shaw sank his nails into my hips while searching me for the white handkerchief shoved deep into the rear pocket of my jeans. Once he removed it, I was “dead”. Game over. Exam failed. I shot him a regretful look then slammed the heel of my palm into his nose.