Agent of Darkness (Dark Fae FBI Book 3)

by C. N. Crawford

  “Cassandra,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”

  “You too,” I said hesitantly. “Are you here to help me train?”

  His eyes were completely unreadable, but his mouth quirked with amusement. “No. I just brought the targets.” He nodded inside the room.

  When I peered inside, my breath hitched. Kneeling on the floor were two fae—a male and a female. The male had glittering lines of blue scales that ran down his cheeks to his neck, stark against his snow-white skin. The female’s skin was a pale gold, her eyes dark as a starless night sky. Rags hung off their bruised and emaciated bodies, and their hands were tied in front of them.

  “What the hell is this?” I asked.

  “Prisoners,” Roan said. “You can try and use your dread power on them.”

  I shook my head. He wanted me to torture prisoners? They might pull that in the CIA, but that wasn’t my style. “I can’t do that. Have you been starving them?”

  “What do you mean, you can’t?” Roan arched an eyebrow. “They have plenty of fear, I can guarantee that.”

  “If it helps,” Morcant added, “they volunteered. They get an extra ration of food for participating.”

  I stared. Both of them gazed straight ahead, their eyes blank. The man’s lips trembled. Roan was right—I could feed off this fear for weeks.

  “There are ethical problems with this,” I muttered.

  “They’ll feel no physical pain,” Roan said. “It’s no different from a nightmare. Certainly better than the drowning techniques your human friends—”

  “Okay, okay.” I held up my hands. “What did they do, anyway?”

  “Two of the king’s assassins.”

  Anger simmered in my chest, burning away the guilt. Just like the assassins who’d slaughtered Gabriel in the street.

  I crossed to them, peering down at them. I could see their fear plainly etched across their features, but I couldn’t connect with their fear as easily as I would with humans. I couldn’t feel that powerful sense of terror washing over me, like when the banshees had attacked.

  I loosed a sigh. “I can’t feel anything.”

  Roan crossed to me, and I felt that warmth in my chest glow brighter. “Empty your mind. Don’t let thoughts drown your senses, your experiences. These two work for the king who had your friend killed. The same king who taught his right-hand man to torture women for pleasure and fear. Think of all the suffering that the Rix and Siofra and Ogmios inflicted over the past months. These two are part of it. Let your anger ignite your powers.”

  I stared at the prisoners, trying to stoke the embers of fury. And yet—they just looked so pathetic, their shoulder blades jutting out. “I feel nothing.”

  Morcant huffed a laugh. “Mistress of Dread. Right. I’m going to look for Elrine. See how she’s doing. Enjoy your session.” He turned, gliding gracefully from the room.

  “Never mind the prisoners,” Roan said. “I want you to close your eyes.”

  I closed them, uncomfortably aware of the prisoners in the room, looking at me.

  “Imagine a place you love,” Roan said. “A place you feel safe. Where you once felt happy.”

  His voice was soft and soothing, like a gentle caress. I found myself slowly relaxing, my mind conjuring the apartment I’d shared with Scarlett after college. The sofa with the coffee stain. The old TV that had a green splotch in the corner, no matter what it was showing. The books scattered everywhere, the table you had to take apart to get to the washing machine in the cramped kitchen. For some reason, I’d slept beautifully in that old shithole.

  “Good,” Roan said, his voice getting softer. He was standing closer now, his scent enveloping me. “Can you see it clearly?”

  “Yes.” I could almost feel the soft sofa beneath me.

  “Good. Now I want you to imagine Ogmios burning it to the ground.”

  My eyes snapped open. I’d thought it was a relaxation exercise. “What?”

  “You’re not imagining, Cassandra. I want anger. I want darkness. I want the predator in you, fighting for her life.” The temperature in the room dropped, and his eyes flickered to gold. “Let go of control, Cassandra. Do you remember how the banshee looked after she slaughtered your friend? That glimmer in her eyes? That was pleasure, Cassandra—a thrill at your grief. The way Gabriel looked, his eyes wide open, his life stolen from him.”

  My stomach churned. How did Roan know all this?

  Of course. He’d seen it all in my mind because of our soul-bond.

  I backed away, shaking my head. “Stop that. Those memories are not yours. You have no right.”

  But Roan just stepped closer, his eyes boring into me. “Remember Grendel, his slimy fingers pawing at your body. How many women do you think he attacked before you met him? How many since? That’s the culture King Ogmios has created. A culture where men view women as their possessions. How did those bodies look, the ones the Rix tore apart in London? That’s the king’s legacy, Cassandra, all of it.”

  “Roan, you need to shut your mouth. You have no right to trawl through my mind like that.”

  He paced forward, our bodies almost touching, eyes blazing gold, and he brushed his knuckles over my cheeks, sending a shiver rippling through my body. “And what of the time a young Weala Broc assassin showed up at your house and slaughtered your parents, while you hid under the bed? Do you remember that, Cassandra? Or did you hide it away with all your other unpleasant memories, doing your best to forget it, to distract yourself? Your parents, murdered in the next room, while you fed off their fear, not knowing why you felt this dark thrill.”

  He’d invaded my mind and started smashing the walls of ice I’d built for years. Tears rolled down my cheeks. The room faded away, all I could see was him, viciously tearing into me, stripping me bare.

  He cupped my face. “Of course, they weren’t your parents at all, were they? They had another, innocent baby girl. And she was taken without their knowledge, and they got you instead—”

  A furious wail ripped from my throat, shutting out his words, and in that moment time slowed… slowed… slowed…

  In the depths of my mind, screams rose, deafening my own. And then I could see them—dark tendrils of fear, surrounding me. Not just the two prisoners. But Roan’s. And others, all around me. Curling, and twisting all around me, undulating like ink pooling through water, all within my grasp. With fury blazing, I arched my back, letting the fear fall into me like light into a black hole.

  And then, I threw it back.

  My eyes flicked open. Roan stared at me, his eyes wide open, fists clenched. The two prisoners were lying on the floor, one whimpering, the other’s mouth ajar in a silent scream. Somewhere, from distant rooms, screams pierced the air. Branwen. Abellio. Nerius cursing in a trembling voice.

  Deafened by their fear, I toppled to my knees, hands on my ears, trying to block them, but they were inside my skull.

  Roan’s powerful arms wrapped around me. “Cassandra, are you—?”

  I shoved him away. I stumbled to my feet and stared at him, furious. “Leave me alone.”

  Still seething with rage, I pushed past him and fled the room.

  Chapter 19

  I stared in the mirror, my heart slamming against my ribs.

  Siofra gazed back at me, her eyes dead, scalp peeking through her thinned hair. “Hello, Changeling.”

  My scream woke me up, and I grasped at the air, trying to push her way.

  Heart pounding, I flung off my covers, rising. It was still night outside, and I’d spent most of the day pacing my room, trying to come to terms with the chaos Roan had wrought in my brain.

  My throat felt parched, and a lingering sense of dread hung in the air. Probably all that fae-terror I’d flung about the place earlier. The air felt heavy tonight, thick with secrets. A thick fog roiled in the London streets outside, and rain hammered the windows. And yet despite the damp air, my throat was parched.

  I pulled open the door to the hall, my body
covered in a cold sweat, and crossed through the hall to the curving, stone stairwell. In bare feet, I padded over to the kitchen and found a pitcher of water standing on the old oak table. As a breeze filtered into the room, rippling over my skin, I poured myself a glass.

  I crossed back into the hall, sipping the cool water, when something caught my attention outside. I paused, peering out one of the windows. In the courtyard, moonlight silvered the mist. Through the silvery fog, I caught a glimpse of a figure sitting on a stone bench beneath a yew. By the breadth of his shoulders, I knew it was Roan. What was he doing out there in the rain, in the middle of the night?

  I pushed through the door into the rain, and as I drew closer, I could make out that he was bare chested, the scars on his back just barely visible in the dim light among his tattoos. The rain dampened my hair, my white nightgown.

  At the sound of my footfalls, he turned his head, and the sadness I saw in his green eyes pierced me to the marrow. Not only was he sitting out here in the rain, but he was wearing only his underwear. Something was definitely wrong.

  I resisted the strange urge to sit in his lap and throw my arms around his neck, instead sitting next to him. “Are you okay?”

  He’d plucked a sprig of wild strawberry leaves from the garden, and he twirled it between his fingers. It looked identical to the one he had tattooed on his chest. “Just bad dreams,” he said. He’d been sitting in the rain long enough that the rain had formed his eyelashes into little peaks, and rainwater poured over the muscled planes of his chest in tiny rivulets.

  I hugged myself, shivering. I wouldn’t have expected Roan to become so unsettled by nightmares. “I’m quite familiar with those. Anything you care to share?”

  “Wings. Severed wings.” His voice broke as he spoke, and he trailed off. He cleared his throat. “I think something happened after you used your powers today. I don’t feel the same.”

  A lump rose in my throat, and I swallowed hard. I’d seen severed wings before—when Siofra had taunted him with his own memories of Trinovantum. I took a deep breath. “When our souls bonded, I saw a beautiful woman with gossamer wings. She was important to you.”

  “She was my mother.” His voice sounded far away, laced with pain. “She used to sing me to sleep every night. Her voice was beautiful. Even in prison, she sang to us every night. And when the king wanted to punish me… he made me to watch her execution. I will never forget what he did to her.” He’d crushed the strawberry stem between his fingers.

  My heart ached for him, and I stood, grabbing his face in my hands. I kissed his forehead, tasting the rain, and he slumped into me, resting his head against my heart. I stroked his damp hair, and he wrapped his arms around my waist, holding on to me as if I could save him from drowning.

  “Come inside with me, Roan,” I said. “You’re drenched.”

  He pulled his head from my body, eyes lingering for a moment over my rain-soaked nightgown—which I now realized had gone completely transparent. Roan’s eyes flickered gold for a moment. Suddenly self-conscious, I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

  His expression cleared, raindrops streaking his face. “You should go in. I still need to clear my head.”

  I knew that feeling, that isolation so deep it cut to the bone—the feeling that walking into your empty room would mean your own death. Or maybe he just didn’t want to have to face his memories again. For just a moment, I considered asking him if he wanted to stay in my room. In fact, the urge was almost overwhelming, but I didn’t know what was going on with him and Elrine. They seemed to have a powerful bond of their own.

  Steeling my nerve, I took a deep breath, ignoring the rain that spattered on my skin. “Are you and Elrine lovers?”

  A line formed between his eyebrows. “Elrine? No.”

  “Does she know that?”

  His lips curled slyly. “I’m fascinated that you’re so interested in this.” Without another word, his powerful hands were around my waist, and he pulled me into his lap. His gaze raked down my body, his expression purely carnal as it roamed over my transparent gown, my breasts peaked in the chilly rain. Instantly, I felt him harden against me.

  Once his gold-flecked eyes met mine again, my pulse began racing out of control. Roan Taranis, Lord of the Fae Court of Lust, had focused the full force of his attention on me. All at once, warmth flooded me, and I fought the urge to strip off my nightgown. We were, after all, sitting in the middle of the courtyard in the pouring rain.

  Still, Roan didn’t seem to care where we were. Slowly, he slipped his hand between my knees, pulling my legs just slightly apart. His fingers traced lazy circles inside my thigh, his touch lighting me up. My back began to arch.

  “Tell me exactly why that interests you, Cassandra.” His deep voice snaked around my skin like a velvety caress.

  “Just curious,” I said, my breath hitching in my throat. “It’s nothing to do with me.” I slid one of my arms around his shoulders, my back arching just a bit more as he teased my thigh with his fingers.

  “Lies.” He leaned in, his breath warming my neck. “Tell me what you want from me, Cassandra.”

  As he swirled his fingers over my rain-soaked skin, teasing me, I let my legs fall further apart, my mind begging him, Higher. Please. Please. A searing ache built in my core, and the strap of my nightgown fell off my shoulder, rainwater pouring down my skin. What would he do if I just stripped off my panties and straddled him? What if I just let myself go?

  “Tell me, Cassandra,” he whispered. “What do you want?”

  His fingers traced another idle swirl, nearly distracting me from the fact that I felt exposed out here in the courtyard. “Shouldn’t we go inside?”

  That wicked smile crossed his lips again. “Go inside for what, Cassandra? You haven’t told me.”

  My chest flushed, and I couldn’t think straight. My thoughts now came in bursts, words like fingers, touch, and wet, but I couldn’t piece a single coherent thought together.

  “Um,” I said. “Just… inside. Me. I mean… What?”

  I nearly moaned at the feel of his fingers moving higher up my thigh. He was taking his time, toying with me. He enjoyed my desperation, the fact that I was on the verge of begging him to fuck me right here.

  I arched my neck, and he brushed a kiss over my throat, his lips warm on my skin. That was all it took for me to stop caring about going inside. “Tell me what you want, Cassandra.”

  “You,” I breathed.

  “Good.” He lifted his face, then pressed his lips against mine, rewarding my admission with a kiss. I opened my lips, and his tongue brushed against mine, sending heat streaming into my belly. I groaned into his mouth, and felt his fingers flex on my thigh for just a moment as he struggled to keep control of himself, and yet still he kept his fingers just below the line of my panties. The kiss deepened, my mouth moving against his until he nipped at my lower lip.

  The sensation drove me insane, and he pulled away from the kiss. Slowly, his gaze raked over the curve of my breast, a low growl rising from his throat. His fingers traced another circle between my thighs, and my legs opened wider, a silent invitation. My nightgown had now ridden all the way up my thighs. Gently, Roan brushed his knuckles over the front of my panties, and I gasped.

  Okay. I wasn’t above begging if that’s what he needed. “Roan. Please.”

  “Mmmm. I like that you know how to ask nicely.”

  My memory sparked with the fantasies that had danced in my mind when I’d drunk the nectar, the intense desire to feel his mouth on me. I let the strap of my nightgown fall lower, exposing my breast. Rainwater streamed down my skin, but I no longer cared at all that we were outside. I just wanted him. As if hearing my thoughts, Roan lowered his mouth to my breast. His tongue flicked over my nipple, hot waves of pleasure imbuing my body as it swirled over my peaked breast. Imagine what his tongue could do elsewhere…

  My pulse racing, I grasped at the back of his head, lacing my fingers into his hair. His mout
h was just where I wanted it, but I was mentally begging him to move his hand higher up my thighs. I began to rock my hips on him, urging him to touch me.

  “Roan,” I said again. “Please.”

  He pulled his mouth off my breast, and raised his face to mine, letting his lips hover above mine. “Please what?”

  “I need you.”

  “Mmmm. Here?” He slipped his fingers into my panties, snarling with pleasure at the feel of my wetness. And yet still, he was holding back, his touch infuriatingly light. He was driving me crazy on purpose, enjoying the hold he had on me. I moved my hips against him, letting him feel my arousal, and his control started to slip. His eyes blazing, he ripped through my panties. I yielded fully to him, letting my legs fall open, my nightgown riding up, and he plunged his finger into me.

  I arched my back, moaning, and he kissed me again, his tongue moving against mine. As his fingers dipped into me, I undulated my hips against his hand, the world falling away until nothing existed but the feel of his fingers plunging between my legs. Liquid heat drenched my body as he kissed me and stroked me, harder, faster, dipping in a second finger. I rocked against his hand until I began to shudder against his fingers, tightening around him.

  Roan growled, thumb brushing against me until a powerful wave of pleasure ripped through me. My body clenched tight around him, and I gasped with release. I loosed a long, slow breath. My body trembling, I rested my head on his shoulder, and for reasons I couldn’t explain, a tear rolled down my cheek. Roan’s body glowed with a powerful golden light.

  “Cassandra,” he whispered into my neck, and he pulled his fingers from me.

  I pushed down the hem of my dress and wrapped my arms around his neck. His heart beat rhythmically against me, and he leaned in to kiss my forehead.

  Then, he nuzzled my neck, whispering into my ear, “I’ll be able to sleep just fine now.”

  For the first time in ages, a genuine smile curled my lips.