Agent of Darkness (Dark Fae FBI Book 3)

by C. N. Crawford

  I didn’t talk to the grave, pretending I was having a conversation with a dead man. I knew it helped some people, but not me.

  I was just glad to keep a piece of him in my memories, a gleaming strand of Gabriel’s essence.

  I crossed through the hall in Roan’s mansion, squinting at the sunlight that slanted in from his windows. Daylight still felt like a shock to my eyes, but I was endlessly grateful to be back in Roan’s palace of windows and light. Since we’d killed Ogmios, we’d been able to return here. The place had almost started to feel like home in a strange way.

  As I walked, I looked down at the little figurine in my hands—the woman who’d been cleaved in half. I’d carefully glued her back together and let it set and dry. I smiled as I looked down at it, imagining a tiny, furious Roan Taranis hurling it at the floor in fit of temper.

  In the past day, I’d started to feel different. Lighter, almost, as if something heavy had lifted from my chest. I could no longer feel my dread powers, or sense the fear in other fae, but it felt like a ton of rocks had been lifted from my chest.

  Pausing at the library doors, I pulled open the heavy, carved oak.

  There, I found Roan sitting in one of the leather library chairs, under the ivory light of the oculus illuminating his hair like a golden crown. Already, my pulse raced at the sight of him. As I crossed the room, he met my gaze.

  “You’ve been in here for hours,” I said, oddly tempted to crawl into his lap. “I brought you a present.”

  A smile played over his lips. “Did you?”

  I held out the figurine in the palm of my hand, watching as his jaw dropped, his features slightly awestruck. Carefully, he pulled her from my hand. “You fixed it.”

  “I thought you might want to keep it.”

  “You never fail to surprise me, Cassandra.”

  Blushing, I dropped down into the worn leather armchair next to him. “That’s not the only reason I came to see you. I don’t suppose you have news about the envoy to the Seelie?”

  “The envoy made contact.” He still traced his fingertips over the figurine. “The Seelie are willing to listen. They heard that Ogmios is dead. We told them that the Council wanted to end this war before we shed any more blood. Negotiations are underway.”

  “You think they’ll agree?”

  “They were losing the war,” Roan said. “They’ve suffered great losses. I doubt they’ll risk anymore.”

  I stared into the light at the fine dust motes circling in the streaming rays, trying to pick through the possibilities. In the old days, Trinovantum had been ruled by the Council—six elected representatives from each Unseelie kingdom. Would the days of the old republic return, or would another tyrant fill the vacuum?

  “Any idea what Abellio is doing, or is he still missing?” I asked. When the rebels and the king’s cavalry troop had recovered from the king’s wave of dread, Abellio was already gone. Maybe, since he was also from the bloodline of dread, he was immune to its powers, too, and had taken advantage of the distraction to escape.

  “Elrine is searching for him with some additional hunters. They’ll find him.”

  I stiffened, suddenly overcome by a memory of Abellio laughing as I struggled to breathe.

  A range of emotions played over Roan’s features. He could feel what I felt, but he was unwilling to reach for me, to pull me close. “What will you do now? Keep searching?”

  “Searching for what?”

  “You’ve been constantly digging at your past. Perhaps, now that you know who your mother was, you could find some blood relatives.”

  “No. I know who I am. I’m Cassandra Liddell. My parents were Horace and Martha. That’s all there is to it.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that I was also the biological daughter of the man who’d slaughtered his family, who’d imprisoned and tortured him over and over. Roan believed in the importance of bloodlines more than I did. He’d never look at me the same way again.

  “Will you return to the United States?”

  “I don’t know yet,” I murmured. “Do you have any opinion? Do you want me to stay here?” My pulse raced as I waited for him to answer, and my cheeks warmed as an awkward silence fell over the room.

  He took a deep breath. “This is what I really wanted to speak to you about.”

  I swallowed hard. Did he want me to leave? “About what, exactly?”

  “We’re bonded, you and me. Some fae, if they’re lucky, find their soulmates.”

  My breath quickened. “Alvin told me about that concept. I don’t believe in it.”

  “It’s the reason I was reluctant to mate with you.”

  My heart began to race. “What do you mean?”

  “We’re soulmates. In Trinovantum, when Siofra was tormenting us, she provoked me to unveil. Then, something compelled me to bite your neck. That’s when I first began to suspect the truth. And when you came here to my home after Gabriel died, you felt it, too. You bit my neck, connecting our minds and souls. It meant I was able to see some of your memories, and bring you back from the dead when the spider killed you. That was the full meaning of the ceremony that bonded us.”

  My breath caught in my lungs. “Which you failed to explain in advance.”

  “I did try.”

  “Not very hard.”

  “You must feel it, right?” He leaned forward, still clutching the figurine. “It’s why you stayed behind in Trinovantum, when you should have run from the king’s troops. You felt compelled to protect me.”

  “Not because of magic.”

  “What was it?”

  I swallowed hard. Love? Surely I didn’t know him well enough to love him? The truth was, I could feel our bond, but I didn’t understand it. “I don’t understand what it all means. What is a mating bond? Some kind of predestined decision from the gods that we have no control over?”

  “It’s a gift from the gods, bestowed only to a few. You said fear was the most ancient human emotion. The most powerful. I don’t think that’s true.”

  My mouth had gone dry. “A gift. I still don’t understand. If we’re mates, why do you keep pulling away from me? What did Elrine mean when she stopped you from coming to my room that night?”

  “Mating is how soulmates pledge eternal commitment.”

  Irritation flared. “It’s not a pledge if I didn’t know what it meant.”

  “I know.”

  I felt my heart beating as anger blossomed in me. What was he trying to tell me? That we were destined to be together? “I don’t know a fraction of the things about you that Elrine knows. In the real world, you are closer to her than you are to me. She’s obviously in love with you, and she actually knows things about you. Maybe she should be your mate.” I didn’t want her to be his mate, but the words were tumbling out anyway. “She’s known you and cared for you for centuries.”

  His gaze went cold. “You want me to be with Elrine?”

  “That is how normal relationships work. You spend time together. You get to know each other. You tell people things about yourself. You don’t just bite each other’s necks and fuck in the bushes and then you’re eternally committed whether you like it or not. Especially when you’ve been hiding things from me. Like the whole commitment pledge thing, which I entered into without knowing.”

  “I tried to tell you. You were unrelenting.”

  I rose from my chair, fury warming my cheeks. “Elrine knew, didn’t she? She knew we were mates, even though I didn’t.” I whirled to face him. “And who else knew, by the way?”

  He shrugged, almost imperceptibly. “Everyone raised in the fae realm would understand the meaning of the bond that brought you back and kept you alive despite the interrogator’s venom.”

  I folded my arms. “So all the residents of the mansion knew, and I was in the dark. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I thought you should return home. You couldn’t live among the fae without knowing how to unveil. You were vulnerable and needed to live among the hum
ans. And more than that, I didn’t want a mate.”

  Anger flared. “Well that’s charming, isn’t it? ‘You’re my mate, but by the way, I never wanted you. We’re just stuck together because we screwed in the bushes.’ Whoops!”

  He closed his eyes, as if marshaling his patience. “This is coming out all wrong.” When he met my gaze, his green eyes shone in the pale light. He pulled down the front of his shirt, exposing his tattoo—the wild strawberry plant with three leaves. “For years, my mother and sister and I were imprisoned. We looked after each other, the three of us. Or rather, they looked after me. I was the youngest.” He covered the tattoo again. “Until one day, when I made a mistake I’ll never forget, and the king punished me for it. I watched my mother die. I watched my sister die. The king used my love to torment me. My love for them made me vulnerable.”

  My heart ached, and I could feel my anger abating. I almost wanted to wrap my arms around him. “I’m sorry.”

  “As my mate, you’d be an easy target. The king would have wanted to punish me by hurting you.”

  I stared at him. The king had tormented him, exploiting his love to control him. If Roan knew the truth about me, what would he see when he looked into my blue eyes? The Court of the Drowned Man. The man who’d ripped his world apart, imprisoned him for years, tried to crush his soul.

  If soulmates were indeed real, the gods had played a cruel joke on Roan by gifting him with me.

  “I still don’t know you,” I said hollowly. “And you don’t know me.”

  Before he could answer, a knock boomed from the oak door. Roan crossed to it, grabbing a sword that rested against the door frame. Sword in hand, he called out, “Yes?”

  “Sir? There’s word from the Council.” A muffled voice pierced the door.

  Roan pulled open the door. An abashed messenger handed him a rolled parchment, before scurrying off into the hallway. Roan shut the door and unrolled the parchment, reading it, his expression darkening.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “The Seelie are attacking. Our forces were caught unaware. They’re invading Trinovantum.”

  A chill stroked up my spine.

  Roan stiffened. “There was also an attack on the house of Arawn in London.” He raised his eyes to meet mine. Gritting his teeth in anger, he crumpled up the parchment. “The Unseelie suffered a lot of casualties. The banshees would have probably fought with us against the Seelie, but most are dead now.”

  My stomach churned. Focusing inward, I searched for the connection with the Stone, for the screams and that dark tug.

  Nothing.

  “It was never about the banshees,” I said, feeling empty. “It was about the London Stone. The Seelie have done something to it. Possibly destroyed it.”

  And along with the Stone, my dread powers had disappeared.

  Thank you so much for reading. To find out about our next releases, please sign up here.

  —Alex Rivers and C.N. Crawford.

  Acknowledgments

  We’d like to thank Alex’s lovely wife Liora for her amazing notes and letting us know when people are acting creepy.

  Our cover designer, Clarissa did another fantastic job.

  And finally, we’d like to thank our wonderful editors, Elayne and Izzy.

  About the Author

  Alex Rivers is the co-author of the Dark Fae FBI Series. In the past, he's been a journalist, a game developer, and the CEO of the company Loadingames. He is married to a woman who diligently forces him to live his dream, and is the father of an angel, a pixie, and a gremlin. He has two voracious hounds that wag their tail quite menacingly at anyone who comes near his home.

  Alex has been imagining himself fighting demons and vampires since forever. Writing about it is even better, because he doesn’t get bitten, or tormented in hell, or even just muddy. In fact, he does it in his slippers.

  Alex also writes crime thrillers under the pen name Mike Omer.

  You can contact Alex by sending him an email to alex@strangerealm.com.

  C. N. Crawford is sometimes two people—a married couple named Christine and Nick. But for the Dark Fae FBI series, it’s just Christine. Christine grew up in New England and has a lifelong interest in local folklore—with a particular fondness for creepy old cemeteries. She is a psychologist who spent eight years in London obsessively learning about its history, and misses it every day.

  Please join us here to talk about books, fantasy, and writing updates! https://www.facebook.com/groups/cncrawford/

  Also by C.N. Crawford

  The Demons of Fire and Night Series

  Book 1: Infernal Magic

  Book 2: Nocturnal Magic

  Book 3: Primeval Magic

  The Vampire’s Mage Series

  Book 1: Magic Hunter

  Book 1.1: Shadow Mage

  Book 2: Witch Hunter

  Book 3: Blood Hunter

  Book 4: Divine Hunter