They were shown into a large, opulent room with rich tapestries and silks hanging from the walls and a large fire blazed in the hearth. The floor was scattered with animal skins and silken cushions, and golden trays of enticing fae delicacies were strewn around, some of which, Corin noted, were of a type best avoided, as their effects were powerful and unpredictable.
The Duke of Ravendell was reclining on a chaise long, his shirt undone and one elegant hand holding a crystal goblet in a lazy grip. His silver hair was loose and fell softly over his shoulders. At first glance he looked at ease, lazy and languid but the danger was obvious enough - like a panther lazing in a tree, watching his next meal approach. His eyes were as steely and intelligent as ever, despite the obvious excesses of the past night. Half in shadow, the firelight flickered on the strong cheekbones of a face too beautiful to belong to someone with so black a soul - his expression too cruel for that sublimely angelic exterior to hide his nature, despite the sensual mouth that now curved into the semblance of a smile. Three men and a woman sat at his feet, like acolytes, their eyes wide and glassy, and Corin noted with distaste that the youngest of the men was human. Behind the Duke and set up on a large platform there was a big glass tank, and the nixe, Nyssa, was floating sluggishly, looking out through the water with dull eyes.
Corin repressed a shudder as the Duke’s eyes found his, the smile widening, the panther showing his teeth.
“Well, well,” he drawled, his voice amused though his eyes showed no such emotion. “This ... is indeed an honour. Pray tell me, to what do I owe the honour of your visit as such an ungodly hour of the morning?”
Corin looked around the room, careful to keep his expression cool and faintly disgusted. “Not enough of an honour that you rouse yourself to get to your feet, however?” Corin observed, seeing the insult clearly for what it was.
The Duke laughed, a decadent, rich sound that seemed fill the room and to coil around its occupants. Corin was too tense for the shiver that ran over him to be visible - something to be grateful for he noted with irony.
“Please forgive me gentlemen,” the Duke said bowing his head, a negligent gesture, his eyes mocking. “I seem to be a little ... the worse for wear.” The smile broadened as his head tilted a little, his gaze raking Corin from head to foot with a rapacious, lingering look. “If I had known you were coming,” he said, his voice pitched low and intimate. “I would have made provision for you. However, whatever you may find in my humble abode ... is yours for the taking.” The smirk accompanied a sweep of his hand to encompass the room - and his guests. Corin’s eyes narrowed in distaste while Laen muttered in disgust beside him.
Corin forced his face to show the Duke a pleasant smile. “Well, Ravendell, your invitation pleases me more than I can tell you.”
Ravendell’s eyebrows rose a little. “It does? How intriguing.” He sat up a little, his hand resting lightly on the shoulder of one of the men. “Oh but such formality, you know you should call me, Devil ... My Angel.”
Corin forced himself not to react, not so much as a flicker of his eyelids though he felt like he’d been slapped, as the Duke well knew. Instead, “Yes, Tristam, we have known each other for a very long time now, more’s the pity.”
A scowl accompanied a faint glimmer of amusement. “I don’t remember giving you leave to use my given name though, only my friends call me that, and - you and I have been many things - but never friends.”
“Of course, no one calls you Tristan anymore do they?” Corin knew the comment would strike at him and felt satisfaction at the burn of anger as magic prickled his skin. He snorted. “I am your Prince and I’ll call you what I damn well please.” Reigning in his temper - “Don’t try too hard to insult me, Your Grace,” he gave his title with contempt. “You may find you live to regret it.” The tension in the room was rising to dangerous levels, even though their body language hadn’t changed, outwardly at ease. The harem at Devil’s feet blinked at them, the restrained violence of the situation penetrating even the fog of their stupor.
“Ah, yes, I don’t doubt, my brother certainly did ... didn’t he?” The Duke replied, his silver eyes glittering with malevolence. “Though of course - he didn’t live.”
Laen’s hand grabbed hold of Corin’s arm, before he could reach for his sword. “He’s goading you, man. This is not what we came for.” Laen warned.
Corin paused, rigid with anger but gave a curt nod and Laen let him go.
“I have come for the nixe,” he said to the Duke. “I have spoken to the kelpie this night and he wants her returned to him, or he will be paying you a visit I fear.”
The Duke’s eyes widened, just a little, a shocked reflex from someone used to hiding his reactions. He looked Corin over, a new light in his eyes. “My, my, you do like to dance with danger ... or ... should I say swim?” he corrected with a sly smile. “I must say, I’m surprised and a not a little impressed. The nixe are indeed a dreadful temptation but even I would not dally in their realm.” He leant back on the chaise lounge and drained his glass, letting the empty vessel fall from his hand and drop to the floor where it shattered. “No,” he mused. “Much safer to bring one here, out of danger.”
“For you perhaps but she is dying.” Corin gestured at the tank where the nixe was now sprawled on the bottom, her hair floating up behind her like a pale blue shroud. “Look at her, you have had your fun, now let me take her back.”
The Duke pursed his lips considering before getting to his feet. He bent and picked up one of the delicate pastries on the trays and placed it with fastidious care into his mouth, chewing slowly. “Mmm, these are really very good.” He picked up another and held it out to the young human male who smiled at him with glassy eyes and opened his mouth. “Good boy,” he said, an approving tone, feeding it to him and patting his head like an obedient dog. He picked up another and walked towards Corin, sinuous as the great cat stalking the shadows. He stood too close, offering the sweet treat to Corin, his fingers close to his lips. “Sweetmeat?”
“No.”
He chuckled and threw the tiny pastry into the fire, his eyes never leaving Corin’s. “And what kind of deal did you make with the kelpie I wonder?” he mused, smiling gently, though his eyes shone like a polished blade. Corin was aware of Laen at his side and forced himself not to step back but suffer the Duke’s proximity. “I wonder - what price will he make you pay if you fail to return her?” He placed one hand on Corin’s chest leaning forwards. “Do tell,” he whispered.
“Give the woman to us, Ravendell.” Laen’s voice was a deep growl beside him.
“Oh but there’s no need to trouble yourselves, truly.” The Duke’s affected sincerity was almost as unsettling as his hand on his chest. “I had already made arrangements for her return home, so why not stay ... For old time’s sake.”
Corin smacked his hand away and drew his sword. “Enough of this. Laen, be so kind as to fetch the girl please.”
“With pleasure.”
The Duke threw back his head, laughing, apparently delighted. “Ah, such a shame you left it so late to call, sweet Angel, a few hours earlier and I could have called you out.” His laughter died, too abrupt and highlighting the jagged edged silence that followed as he stared at Corin. “I’m afraid I am lamentably too far gone for such excitement at this hour ... but then I’m not sure I want to end it yet, tormenting you is so much more pleasurable.” His expression changed to one of sensual longing, heat burning in his eyes now. “And I have so many more plans in mind.”
Corin just watched him, expressionless, though he felt his heart beating, his magic burning below his skin, wanting to vent his anger so badly that it seared him trying to keep it at bay - to keep Ravendell from the gaining the satisfaction of having disturbed him. Laen was carrying the nixe towards the door now and gestured for Corin to follow him.
Ravendell returned to the chaise and settled himself down comfortably, drawing the woman who sat on the floor in a stupor to her feet as he went,
and settling her against him. “Do have a pleasant day, Angel,” he said with a sneer before pulling her head down for a kiss.
Corin cursed him silently and turned away, following Laen out of the room but he paused on the threshold as Ravendell’s voice followed him softly.
“Oh, and Your Highness, do, please - give my regards - to the kelpie.”
Corin slammed the door on the sound of the Duke’s laughter and they walked away.
Chapter 6
They stood at the edge of the tree line that bordered the river and Corin turned to Laen who was still carrying his damp bundle. The nixe was curled against his chest, her hair tangled round his arms and her breathing was faint and slow.
“Remember what I said, Laen?”
Laen nodded as Corin drew some sap from a tree, rolling it into a soft ball in his palms and then stuffing it in Laen’s ear. “Yes, yes, stop fussing man. I won’t hear their song so they can’t entrap me again and I keep my eyes on the floor. You’ve only told me five times already.”
“Well excuse me if I want to be sure of our escape!” Corin said, aggrieved. “I doubt I have anything left that the kelpie would value.”
Laen smirked. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I’d bet he’ll be just as keen to keep you as the girls.”
Corin gave him a swift kick on the shin. “Shut your damn mouth and keep your eyes on the floor or I’ll give him you!”
Laen scowled but held his tongue as Corin plugged his other ear.
They reached the riverside and Corin reopened the cut on his thumb, letting the blood fall into the inky depths of the water.
“Come to me,” he commanded.
They didn’t have to wait long before the kelpie rose from the water once more. Corin glanced at Laen as his eyes tracked the approach of the powerful black stallion as it strode through the river. Pausing in front of them it shook its head, the thick main showering them with water as the transformation began. Magic prickled over their skin until Abhainn was standing before them once more. Laen’s eyes widened until Corin elbowed him and he lowered his eyes to the ground.
The kelpie strode from the water regarding Nyssa, his expression impassive. Corin’s heart stuttered as he realised the kelpie was bitterly disappointed.
“Our bargain is at an end, here is Nyssa, as you requested.”
He bowed and the kelpie stepped forward and took the girl from Laen, before turning and dropping her into the water in a rather careless movement . There was a splash and a gasp before she disappeared below the dark surface, leaving ripples stirring the reflection of pale sunlight that flickered though the trees.
The kelpie turned back to them, head on one side. “Wouldn’t you like to make another deal?”
Corin stepped back, shaking his head and the kelpie followed him, his eyes straying from him to Laen and back again, with a smile. “Why not? We could make a fine bargain ... between us.”
There was a ripple of sound as Nyssa, Niella, Neera and Nia surfaced, the water cascading over their bodies as they walked from the river. They held out their hands to the men and began to sing softly, their voices stirring such a deep longing in Corin’s soul he could not help but take a step forward. He closed his eyes, shaking his head, knowing he must not but the kelpie held out his hand adding his own dark magic to their sweet song. “Come, Prince of Alfheim, swim with us and see what pleasure really means.”
Corin opened his eyes, breathing too hard, too fast. In some distant place he heard Laen shouting for him as his friend took in his glazed expression, his eyes dark with desire, saw him hesitate ... and then step forward.
“Corin! No!”
Corin awoke as if from a dream with the fierce blow still stinging his face and ringing in his ears. He stared at Laen like he could hardly remember who he was.
“Gods!” he whispered, and then the two men turned as one ... and ran
Bonus Material
Interview With A Dark Prince by Evie Leigh
“Honey, you missed April fool’s day by about a fortnight!”
I listened to the voice on the other end of the phone and wondered if she’d finally lost the plot. I mean writers do tend to have a vivid imagination but this ... this was taking it too far.
“So, you want me to interview Prince Corin?” I asked again just to be sure I hadn’t misunderstood. “The imaginary,” I said the word slowly to make sure she took it in. “Prince in your book?” I listened, growing ever more incredulous. “Oh, come on, of course he's imaginary, you’re winding me up and you know it. Is there a hidden camera?” I sighed and shook my head. I knew Emma had a twisted sense of humour but this time she was really going too far. “Fine, fine, OK. So I’m guessing you’ve employed some sort of actor to role play and you want me to go along with it?” I arranged the papers on my desk, rolling my eyes while I listened to her get huffy on the other end of the phone. “Look if that’s what you’re after I’m in but really I don’t see why we needed all the silliness.” I listened to her instructions on the other end of the phone, my eyes widening with each sentence. “So why aren’t you talking to him if you arranged it all?”
There was a pause, and then a sigh. “What do you mean?” I asked, growing apprehensive. “In what way is he hard work? Dangerous? Dangerous how?” I frowned. “Yes I’m still single but what’s ...” I felt my eyebrows hit the ceiling and laughed out-loud. “Oh, don’t you worry, I’m more than capable of handling an actor, even a pretty one.” I snorted in amusement at her concern. “God, some of the creeps I meet in this job! Yeah, yeah, OK, I get it, he’s very charming.” I shook my head, laughing inwardly. “When’s he coming then? What?”
***
Half an hour later and myself and the small house I was renting for my holiday in the Dordogne were presentable. How on earth the bloody woman even knew I was here I don’t know. Anyway, at least I was saved from a dull afternoon pretending I was relaxing and being bored out of my mind and apparently this was the only time, the Prince, was available.
Yeah right.
At two O’clock exactly there was a knock on the door and I hurried to answer it, curious in the extreme to discover what my devious writer friend was up to. I opened it, hardly managing to cover a grin, which I felt drop to the floor when I saw the man standing on the other side.
Holy mother of God!
He smiled at me and I swear my heart actually fluttered, I mean like really, like they say in all those silly romance novels. Damn. I swore a bit more and told my heart - in no uncertain terms - to bloody well behave itself. I stared back at the golden eyes and wondered, a tad hysterically, if there really was a Hunks R Us in the vicinity.
“I believe you are expecting me?” he prompted, a look of mild amusement in his eyes. I closed my mouth with a snap and stepped out of the way, gesturing for him to come in with a wave of my hand as I seemed to have lost the ability to speak. He stepped inside, looking at me expectantly. “You are taking the interview?”
“Umm, yes,” was as intelligent a reply as I could muster. Frankly I was impressed.
“I’m Corin.” Of course you are, I thought, with a inane grin plastered over my face. His eyebrows raised a little. “And you are ...?”
Silence filled the hallway. Oh, this was when I was supposed to reply - right?
“Evie!” I said, snapping myself out of my stupor. “I’m Evie.”
I walked through to the living room, somehow very aware of his presence following me along the hallway. Pull yourself together you stupid woman, I muttered internally, you’re a professional journalist, this is nothing out of the ordinary. He’s just an out of work actor playing a part (though why out of work I couldn’t fathom, why hadn’t Hollywood snapped this guy up?) and I’m going to kill Emma if she’s set me up!
That decided, I plastered a cool and professional smile on my face and invited him to sit down. He looked around the room with interest as he made himself comfortable.
"Can I get you some tea?" I offered, thinking I should tr
y and put him at ease, though to be fair he didn't seem to be having any trouble as I watched him lounge with an elegant arrangement of muscular limbs in the armchair, his eyes on me.
"No, thank you."
“Wow, the contacts are amazing!” I admitted, allowing myself to look at those eyes for a moment.
“Contacts?” he frowned.
“Oh, right,” I gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry I guess you’re in character. Okay, let’s get started then shall we?”
He gave me a slightly bewildered look but I guessed it was all part of the role. He must be a method actor or something.
“By all means,” he replied, polite if a little nonplussed if his expression was anything to go on
“I’m sorry but Emma only asked me to do this about half an hour ago and I haven’t even had the chance to read the questions yet.”.
He frowned. “Yes,” he said. “She was supposed to interview me. It is what I agreed to. I have to confess I’m rather cross with her for backing out at the last moment.”
Well personally I was starting to be rather pleased about it.
I shrugged and gave a bright smile. “I guess something came up.”.
“I’ll bet it did,” he muttered.
“Err, right, well.” I took a deep breath and looked at the list of questions. “Apparently the readers set the questions for you.” I added hoping he had at least read the book and was up to speed. I’d read it several times over so I would know if he hadn’t and yes, I admit it - I was #TeamCorin. “Well then, just so we are clear, you are Prince Corin Albrecht of Alfheim, the only son of King Edard and Queen Audrianne."
He inclined his head slightly. "I am."
I bit back a smile, well he played the part incredibly well, I'd give him that. He looked every inch the wealthy playboy, though ... I frowned as I realised he was wearing blue jeans and a fitted black T-shirt. I mean, not that there was anything wrong with that.
Not a single thing.
A Dark Collection Page 10