Agent of Darkness (Dark Fae FBI Book 3)

by C. N. Crawford

  By the time we climbed back into the car, the sun tinged the sky with streaks of honey and periwinkle, and my body felt wrecked. I started the engine.

  “We have a lot of work to do with you,” Roan said grimly.

  I said nothing as I steered the car onto the road.

  By the third night of our training at Temple Church, I’d still failed to unveil, and I began to doubt Roan’s declaration that every fae could do it.

  I lay on the stone ground, trying to focus on my heartbeat, listening to the burbling of the fountain. Even if I hadn’t managed to unveil, things were looking up for Nerius. He’d woken for a few hours today, and he’d managed to eat some fruit. Branwen was still pissed—

  Roan’s fingertips brushed over my shoulders. “You are unfocused, Cassandra.”

  I sat up, blinking. “Right. Sorry.”

  Roan sat on the stony ground by my side. “Your weak human side is getting in the way.”

  “You know what I like about you? You always know how to make me feel better.” We lapsed into silence, listening to the sound of running water, and then I said, “We need a new plan to get to the London Stone.”

  “Forget the London Stone. The king is waiting for us to return to it.”

  “I feel like that’s the key to my power. You’re asking me to be in tune with my true self, and I felt it there. My bloodline is connected to the Stone. I just need to figure out how to tap into that power again.”

  “What do you mean, ‘figure out?’ I thought you said you only needed to touch it?”

  I shook my head. “I tried. When we were ambushed, I figured I could just touch it, get that instant connection, that it was better than nothing.”

  Roan’s jaw clenched. “And what happened?” he finally asked.

  “I couldn’t… connect. It wasn’t like last time. I couldn’t hear the screams, couldn’t see the king’s memories. I felt the Stone’s power, but it was submerged deep under the surface. I couldn’t hear my mother’s voice, like I did before. I have no idea why, but maybe next time it will work.”

  “There will be no next time, Cassandra. There are two dozen guards on the Stone now, day and night.”

  I chewed my lip. “I’m certain it’s the best way to get to the king.”

  “Are you sure it’s the king you’re after?”

  I stared at him. “Of course. What else?”

  “You’re lost and adrift. You feel painfully alone. You heard your mother’s voice there, and you’re desperate for a family.”

  Tear stung my eyes, and my breathing sped up. I was getting seriously frustrated with Roan’s intrusive ability to see into my soul.

  For a few moments, I listened only to the sound of my own breathing, until I stood, blinking away my tears. “I’m ready to continue my training.”

  Over the next week, my days begun to form a strange routine. I’d go to bed just after dawn, when the sun reddened the sky and my body pulsed with exhaustion. I slept with the little horned figurine beneath my pillow. Each morning, I dreamed of the wind whispering through oak leaves, and the strange music of the forest singing through my blood. I’d wake in the late morning, finding Roan already gone. Off on some rebel business that he told no one about. He still hadn’t identified the spy, and he wasn’t taking any chances. On the plus side, he apparently trusted me enough to return my gun to me.

  Strangely, the person I spent most of the time with during the day was Nerius. Day after day, I sat by his bedside. I read him books from my cell phone—romances, mostly, about virgins and brawny Scottish men. Apparently, that was what Nerius liked to read, and when we got to the sexy parts, he’d fold his hands behind his head and arch his eyebrows suggestively at me.

  He was still rude as hell, but when he wasn’t spurring me on to read smut to him, he was teaching me to read fae runes. As the week went on, his insults morphed into inappropriate sexual innuendos, which didn’t bother me too much. After a while, I began to suspect that he was getting slightly addicted to my pixie emotions, because he seemed unusually pleased every time I walked into his room.

  When I wasn’t in Nerius’s room, I was sparring with Branwen. She gave me two stilettos, teaching me some basic moves. I wasn’t even close to moving as fast as her, but I was improving, mixing my hand-to-hand combat knowledge with Branwen’s moves.

  I also fashioned myself two small mirror bracelets that I began to sport at all times. That way, I could jump away in a second’s notice. With my gun, my stilettos, and the mirrored bracelets, I felt pretty well-prepared should King Ogmios’s assassins turn up again.

  Roan began to ask me to search the reflections for locations, or fae that I had met. Twice we drove a mile away from the House of Sorrow, and I linked us to some of the rooms there. We’d watch the goings on inside the complex, with Roan cursing at my inability to transfer sound.

  I didn’t make any perceivable progress on the Mistress of Dread front. It seemed Cassandra’s ‘true self’ had no intention of appearing.

  I stood by the fountain, my muscles burning with fatigue. After two days of silence and Roan being completely absent from the mansion, he’d woken me again at midnight, his hands soft on my shoulders.

  By the fountain’s side, I felt the faint spray of water over my skin. I was supposed to be connecting to my bestial side, focusing on the sensation of water against my skin. Instead, I opened my eyes, gazing up into his deep emerald pools. “What have you been doing during the day?”

  He looked away, as if deciding what he could share with me. After a moment, he spoke. “I’ve heard more and more talk about armies amassing. Not just the king’s Unseelie army, but the Seelie, too.”

  “Who exactly are the Seelie?”

  “They’re the fae who drove us from our ancestral home, Cleopolis. You’ve felt the power of the underground Walbrook River, haven’t you?”

  I nodded. When I walked over the buried river, I felt a thrill of power.

  “Once, humans worshiped us as gods. The Weala Broc—your line—were worshiped at the river. Then the Seelie invaded Cleopolis, driving us out, slaughtering thousands of Unseelie. We were forced to flee to Trinovantum, where we pushed the Elder Fae from their forest lands.”

  I nodded, my attention rapt.

  “Two thousand years, we’ve lived in exile. Ogmios, who was but a child when the Seelie attacked, grew to be one of the most powerful fae amongst the Unseelie. He managed to wrangle control from the Council and crowned himself king. That’s when he started to change us, to demand we act more like the Seelie. For two thousand years, he’s suppressed the Unseelie.”

  I bit my lip. “And now, after two thousand years, the Seelie are back in the picture?”

  “According to my sources, several skirmishes have erupted alongside the borders between Trinovantum and Cleopolis. King Ogmios has been slowly sending his armies further and further from the keep. Our chance to launch a surprise attack might be soon, if we can do it without our spy betraying us.”

  “How big is the rebel army, exactly?”

  His expression became guarded again. “We’re here to train, Cassandra. We’ve made little progress. This feels like another distraction. You run from yourself.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You keep yourself busy with noise and chatter.”

  Chatter. For just a moment, I thought of Odin, the raven who’d rambled on about romance books, quoting all the dirty parts. He’d been a beautiful distraction. What had happened to Odin? He and Nerius would get along beautifully—

  “Cassandra,” said Roan. “You need to face yourself.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” And that’s when the image of Gabriel seared itself into my brain—the lifeless hazel eyes, the ravaged throat. A wave of sorrow slammed into me, and I dropped to the fountain’s edge, letting the tears flow down my cheeks. With my head in my hands, I heard Roan’s footfalls move away from me as he left me alone in the dark. I’d never felt so alone in my life, the isolation nearly ripping my mind apart. Pure emptiness we
lled in my chest, gnawing at my ribs.

  I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I felt Roan’s arm around me, pulling me close.

  I looked up at him through my tears. “Should I try unveiling again?”

  Roan shook his head. “It’s nearly dawn. We should leave.”

  I blinked. “Nearly dawn? We just started.”

  “You’ve been crying for more than two hours, Cassandra.”

  My breath halted for a long moment. Two hours? “You know, you could have given me a shoulder to cry on.”

  “It would have defeated the purpose of being alone with yourself.”

  I wiped the back of my hand across my cheek. “That was part of my training?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good morning, goddess. Squawk!”

  I blinked in confusion, bolting upright in bed. Roan sat on a small chair in my room, with Odin, the raven, on his shoulder.

  I rubbed my eyes. “What is going on?”

  “My nipples tingle with delight. Squawk! Nevermore.”

  My jaw dropped. “You found Odin?”

  Roan’s lips quirked in a smile. “Yes. You’d mentioned once that he was in an animal shelter. I found it. The proprietor seemed to be relieved when I took him.”

  “Dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. Lick my nevermore. Squawk!”

  “You saw him in my thoughts, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “So… what, is this a new part of my training? To see if I’m able to concentrate with more distractions?”

  “No.” Roan shifted uncomfortably and got up. Odin squawked in outrage and flew from his shoulder to the side of my bed, hurtling erotic quotes in anger. “This is your raven. I thought it would make you… happy.”

  I stared at him, shocked. He turned to leave the room, closing the door behind him.

  “Once upon a midnight throbbing cock.”

  I grinned. I couldn’t wait to introduce him to Nerius.

  Chapter 23

  I was sitting in a soft leather chair in the library, paging through a book about the great Seelie invasion, laboriously deciphering the runes, when Branwen pushed through the door into the library.

  “There you are,” she said. “I just looked for you in your room. Everyone’s gathering in the dining room. There’s something going on.”

  The book thunked hollowly as I shut it, and I slid it back into a dusty shelf. I followed Branwen into the dining room, where Roan, Elrine, and Abellio sat around the table. I pulled out a chair next to Branwen, unnerved by the somber feeling in the air.

  After a few moments of silence, Nerius slowly shuffled into the room. He winced as he sat down.

  Roan cleared his throat. “We’ve heard from our man inside. King Ogmios is launching an attack on the Seelie in four days. His fortress will be largely undefended.”

  A heavy silence fell over the room as this sank in. Branwen and Abellio exchanged worried looks, and my stomach clenched. I’d gotten nowhere with harnessing my powers or learning to unveil.

  Roan leaned back his chair, surveying the room. “This obviously means that we have run out of time. To make things worse, it seems our spy was captured just after delivering this message. We’ve failed to make contact with him since, and it’s safe to assume that he’s being tortured to extract every bit of information he has.”

  Elrine paled, and I could guess why. She’d been in the king’s dungeons, and had experienced their methods of torture.

  Branwen pushed her dark hair out of her eyes. “Does the spy know about us? Does he know about this place?”

  Roan shook his head. “No. I made sure he knew only what was necessary, and most of what he knows is false.”

  “So we’re attacking, right?” Nerius asked. “An assault on the keep?”

  Roan nodded. “Most of the king’s armies have already been deployed, and the keep is nearly empty. There are two troops that will probably march to the borders tomorrow, and we can strike after that.”

  Abellio drummed his fingertips on the table. “And the traitor? He could give away our plan.”

  “He doesn’t know our plan yet,” Roan said. “Because only I know it. Tomorrow evening, four of our leading generals will come here, and we’ll discuss the attack. You will all be deployed as lookouts to make sure no one gets near the mansion while this is happening.”

  I understood at once the real reason for this. Roan wanted all of us away from the meeting, so none of us would know the attack plans. I wondered how he planned to handle Nerius’ limited maneuverability.

  “What about the Seelie?” Nerius asked. “Assuming we manage to remove the king, we’ll create a power vacuum. The Seelie might use that as an excuse to launch an attack of their own.”

  “They definitely will.” Roan agreed. “If we manage to do this, we will do our best to contain the information until we have full control over the military and the Council. If things go according to plan, by the time the Seelie find out that the king is gone, someone else will be ruling in his stead.”

  Who was this ‘someone’? In all the time I’d been here, no one had ever talked about that openly. Did Roan plan to take control? Or did the rebels have anyone else in mind? I had to wonder how the unaligned fae felt about continuing to live under the control of nobles.

  Roan stood. “After the war council, I’ll let you know your roles in the attack. Good night.”

  As we rose, chairs scraped over the stone floor. I hurried out the door after Roan, catching up with him in the hall. I touched his arm. “Roan.”

  “Cassandra, I’m afraid we won’t be able to train together tonight. No time.”

  “That’s fine.” I had my own plans for tonight. “Listen, I don’t know if I’ll be able to use my dread powers in the attack. I still can’t access them at will.”

  “You won’t,” he said matter-of-factly. “Your human side has stunted your powers. This will take months to fix, and we don’t have that.”

  “You do have a way with words,” I muttered.

  He turned to face me. “I will need your reflection magic during the assault, Cassandra.” Unexpectedly, he brushed a finger down my cheek before pulling his hand away again, his face hardening. “You’re an integral part of this now. Part of us. But I want to keep you away from the heart of the battle. I need to keep you safe, Cassandra.”

  As Roan walked away, I felt a strange surge of warmth, that flame burning in my chest. A light in the darkness.

  Gripping a plastic bag, I walked into my room, shutting the door behind me and locking it.

  Odin hopped onto the desk, quirking his head. “Squawk! O, human love! thou spirit given, on Earth, of all we hope in Heaven!”

  “That’s beautiful, Odin. You can be so romantic.”

  “Spread your legs! Squawk! Nevermore.”

  I sighed, sitting down by my table, and traced a finger down Odin’s feathers. He shut his eyes, chirping quietly with contentment.

  “Tonight, we’re on a stakeout,” I told him. “We’ll need some sustenance.”

  I pulled a box of raisins from my bag and poured out a few on the wooden desk, scattering them in front of him. Immediately, he began pecking at them, while I pulled a thermos from the bag, full of strong black coffee. For the stakeout I had planned, I’d need the coffee. On the desk, I laid out four bags of chips: one bag of Doritos, one Cheesy Wotsits, one prawn cocktail, and one bag of salt-and-vinegar flavored Walkers, because I was trying to sample more of the local culture. From prior stakeout experiences, I knew that less than four bags simply wouldn’t cut it.

  “Squawk! Come, let the burial rite be read.”

  Ignoring the raven, I rummaged in one of the drawers, and removed four mirrors I’d stored there a week ago. I set them in front of me, propped up against the wall.

  Maybe the ambush in the London Stone had just been a clever decision by the king. Maybe he’d realized that the Stone was powerful enough to warrant attention from the rebels, or my
contact with him through the Stone had tipped him off.

  But the way that fae had waited inside the store, how they’d come prepared with cars to chase us—it felt like they’d known our plan beforehand. And unless Roan had told any of the other cells, which I doubted, only six people knew about that plan. The six residents of the mansion.

  That meant the spy was probably right under this roof.

  I reached for the leftmost mirror, searching for Nerius first. The reflection flickered and he appeared, sitting, looking straight back at me. He was staring out the window, while I watched him through the window’s reflection. Apparently, he was on watch duty, sitting in a tall oaken chair. These past two days, he’d done more watch duties, since he couldn’t do much else. It was the easiest way for him to contribute.

  Next, I scanned for Elrine. She combed her hair in front of a full body mirror, wearing a transparent nightgown, her beauty breathtaking. Something turned her head and she crossed to the door, opening it. Roan stood there, talking to her, and she leaned into him. A sharp pang of jealousy pierced my chest, and I grappled to force it away. He had said she wasn’t his girlfriend, right? I desperately wanted to know what they were talking about.

  Focus, Cassandra.

  Elrine turned back to the mirror, a smile curling her perfect lips, her nipples showing through her nightgown.

  Odin let out a long whistle.

  “Stop that,” I said. “Be professional.”

  “Squawk! Her legs were long and smooth, and between them—”

  I flicked him, and he let out an outraged squawk, hopping back.

  I moved on to the third mirror—the one for Branwen. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought. The mirror in her room displayed the entire bed.

  Lastly, I merged with a reflection in Abellio’s room, finding him already asleep in his room.

  If there was a spy in the mansion, he would probably act tonight. Though none of us would be in the war council tomorrow, the spy would almost certainly contact his handler tonight and inform him that an impending attack was looming, and that the meeting was taking place. The king’s forces could sweep in tomorrow and take out Roan and the other generals in one swift and efficient strike. The thought made my heart clench with dread. It would be a crippling blow to the rebels, one they probably would never recover from.