by Melissa Marr
Devlin listened for the sounds of movement outside in the street or in the house, but heard only Ani and those who were there to care for her. Irial made a number of calls; the timbre of the former Dark King’s voice revealed none of the fury that Devlin knew lurked not far below the surface. Irial’s family had been stricken, and of all the courts, it was the Dark Court that held family as almost sacred.
Unlike the High Court…
Somehow, in the grief that was weighing on all of the house’s inhabitants, he needed to broach the reason for their return.
Irial opened the door. “He’s awake.”
Ani stretched up and brushed a kiss over Devlin’s lips. She didn’t speak as she went inside.
Irial and Devlin stood together for a moment. There was no way to ease into the discussion, and no way to postpone it. Seth needed to be taken to Sorcha. The timing was unpleasant, but the reality was what it was. Crises didn’t abide by schedules.
“We need to talk. Sorcha is unwell,” Devlin began.
Irial held up a hand. “Let me start the coffee first? I haven’t slept yet.”
Devlin nodded and followed the former Dark King into Ani’s home. Being there was disquieting. These tiny rooms attached to the tattooist’s studio were where she had healed from the consequences of what his sister had ordered, and now it was where she wept for the consequences of his other sister’s cruelty.
His sisters were the source of her pain. He walled his emotions up more tightly. He’d do what needed to be done, and he’d try to find a way to give her a better future. Maybe I can return Jillian to her.
Ani stood in the hallway between the kitchen and what appeared to be the bedrooms. “Rab?”
“Ani.” Rabbit’s voice was raw with mourning. He stepped into the hall and grabbed Ani. “You’re safe. Gods, I was… You have to listen. You will do whatever it takes to stay safe from her. Tell me that. Tell me…. Promise.”
“Shhhh.” Ani wrapped her arms around her brother, holding him against the torrents of tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m home. I’m sorry I wasn’t here. It’s my fault—”
“No,” Rabbit and Irial both answered.
Ani looked at them. “Yes.”
“No. Mortals are breakable,” Devlin said. “Even if you were here, she would’ve—”
Ani shoved past him back into the studio and then outside. The slam of the second door was accompanied by the clatter of the bell that hung there—and Ani’s angry scream.
“Stay.” Irial put a hand Rabbit’s arm when the tattooist started to follow. He looked at Devlin pointedly.
As if I needed encouragement to follow her…
Seeing Ani like this was so outside his realm of experience. His own emotions were as locked up as they’d ever been, but it still ripped him apart inside. Ani was hurt.
Devlin went into the studio and paused. There were Hounds out there, and she stood just on the other side of the large front windows of the shop. I could go through the window if she were in immediate danger. The threat was too much. I need to be beside her if there is an attack. He took a deep breath before pushing the door open.
She refused to look in his direction. Instead, she stared resolutely at nothing.
He leaned against the wall beside her. “It wasn’t your fault. You must know that.”
Tears slid over her face, but she didn’t brush them away. They fell down her chin and cheeks, coursed down her neck, and dripped onto her shirt. Ani glanced sideways at him. “I don’t know anything right now.”
He sighed and tried again. “What do you need?”
“Rabbit made safe, and then your sister made dead.” Ani bared her teeth. “Breath for breath. She took my sister.”
“You can’t kill her.”
“Really?” Ani pushed off the building and spun so she was standing facing him. Her feet were spread in a fighter’s stance. Her eyes were shimmering with the same sulfurous glow as the eyes of the Hounds’ steeds. “Tell me why.”
He’d told no one his sisters’ secrets. For eternity, he’d lived for them, but Faerie was coming unmade, and the mortal world would be devastated if Bananach brought about a true faery war. The time for protecting the twins’ secrets had ended.
“Come inside.” He held out his hand to Ani. It shook. The thought of her refusing him mattered more than anything should. He’d still be there if she grew cold to him, but it would ache the way few things ever could.
She looked at him with the monstrous green gaze of the Hunt. “Irial is inside. He won’t let me go after her.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“I am the Hunt. Tish is—was—my sister. She was a part of me, my best friend. I cannot just accept this.” Ani’s tears had stopped; rage hummed in her words and body. “No one kills the Hunt without vengeance. Gabriel might not have called her Pack, but I do.”
“Come inside with me.” He kept his hand outstretched and added, “Please?”
She took his hand in hers. “I want her blood, Devlin. I want her death. I want her to ache.”
He opened the door to the studio and motioned for her to precede him. “I understand.”
And he did. If anyone hurt Ani, he’d feel the same way, but that didn’t change the impossibility of killing Bananach.
There is no return from this. He wasn’t sure that a return had been possible for some time.
“I go where you go, Ani,” Devlin told her. “We need to talk first. I need to tell you and Irial”—he paused and considered the consequences of the trusts he was breaking— “truths that are not to be shared.”
She held his gaze. “I want her to hurt.”
He didn’t flinch. “I know, but I need you to listen.”
Mutely, she nodded.
He kept his fingers laced with hers as they went back to the kitchen.
“Rabbit’s… he’ll be back out in a minute.” Irial glanced at the doorway. “He’ll be better now that you’re here.”
Ani sat at the table, still holding Devlin’s hand in hers.
Devlin took the chair next to her. There was no delicate way to share what he had to say, nor was this the time for prevarications. He simply said, “If you kill Bananach, Sorcha will die. If Sorcha dies, we all die. The twins are balanced halves, the two energies that came first. Before them and after them, there is nothing. If you kill either of them, every faery will die. Maybe some of the halflings will live, but the rest… we all expire if she dies. Sorcha is essential. She is the source of all our magicks, our longevity, everything. If not, don’t you think Bananach would’ve killed her by now?”
Irial lowered himself to a chair.
Ani sat speechless for a moment, but then began trying to find the hole in his logic. She was irrepressible when she wanted something, and she very badly wanted Bananach’s blood. “How do you know? Maybe they just—”
“I know. They made me, Ani. I call them sisters, but before me, there were only two. The opposition, the balance. It’s what our whole people are based upon. Each court has its opposite. Too much imbalance will cause disaster. Sorcha… she adjusts what she must to assure stasis.”
Irial looked up, and Devlin caught his gaze.
“She will arrange against her wishes to assure the greater balance”—he did not look away from Irial as he made the admission—“even for that court which is her opposition, even as her counterbalance has abandoned Faerie to live among mortals. The Dark Court balances the High Court, but Sorcha requires more: since the start of forever her true counterbalance has been Bananach.”
“Well that just sucks, doesn’t it?” Ani leaned back, but she didn’t pull her hand away from his. “Bananach wants me to kill Seth and Niall—and oh yeah, she wants to kill me… and there’s not a damn thing we can do without killing everyone.”
No one spoke for several heartbeats: there was nothing to say.
Silently, Ani released his hand and left the room.
After Ani walked back down the hallway, Irial
started, “Would Sorcha hide Ani?”
Devlin shook his head. “Sorcha ordered me to kill Ani years ago.”
Irial asked, “Because she saw that Ani would… what?”
“I was not privy to that information.” Devlin glanced at the hallway. “I can’t let Ani kill my sisters or let them kill her.”
Irial sighed and lowered his head again. “So we try to keep Ani, Rabbit, Seth, and Niall alive and hope War finds another amusement.”
Devlin felt a strange guilt at adding to the already complex situation. He weighed his words carefully and settled on, “I believe it would be… catastrophic should Seth be killed. In truth, it might be catastrophic if Seth doesn’t return to Faerie soon. Sorcha is asleep, mourning Seth’s absence apparently.”
“Well, that’s… not very orderly, is it?” Irial said.
“Something is wrong with my sister.” Devlin watched Irial pour several cups of coffee. To one cup, he added the cream and solitary sugar cube that Ani favored.
“We’ll figure something out.” Irial gave Devlin a knowing look that reminded him that he’d forgotten to cloak any of his feelings.
“I…” Devlin started. There weren’t words though, not ones he could speak. His envy over the way Irial knew Ani, his worry over her, his futile emotions—none were of the High Court. For a heartbeat, Devlin just stared at Irial, waiting for the mockery or chastisement or reminder that he wasn’t worthy of Ani.
Irial held out Ani’s coffee. “She needs you right now. Go.”
Devlin stood and took the cup—and paused at the roll of terror that told him that Gabriel had arrived.
CHAPTER 30
Ani had heard and felt everything Devlin shared with Irial. It didn’t mute her grief or rage, but it was comforting to know that she wasn’t alone. Devlin wouldn’t kill Bananach but he wasn’t going to abandon her, and she needed every strong faery they could rouse. She couldn’t lose Rabbit.
Or Irial.
Or Gabriel.
Or Devlin.
She heard the arrival of Gabriel—and with him Niall and Seth. She didn’t want to see them all at once though, so she stepped into Rabbit’s room and waited for Gabriel.
Rabbit sat on the edge of his bed, looking lost. He’d undoubtedly heard the earlier conversation in the kitchen, and he knew as well as she did that their situation was growing increasingly bleak. They didn’t speak. Instead, they waited—and listened.
Irial’s and Niall’s voices were low, but they were here. Knowing the current and former Dark Kings were now both in her home was comforting; so too was the sound of Gabriel’s boots as he came down the hallway.
“I’m sorry,” was all Gabriel said when he came into the room.
“You failed.” Rabbit looked at Gabriel with a ferocity that was matched on their father’s face.
Gabriel didn’t look away from the challenge in Rabbit’s voice. “The Hunt will keep her—and you—as safe as we can.”
Ani shook her head. “Well, since killing War isn’t an option, I don’t really see how that’s possible.”
None of them spoke.
Ani went over, took her brother’s hand in hers, and tugged him to his feet. Reluctantly, he followed to stand in front of Gabriel.
Once Gabriel and Rabbit were face-to-face, Ani said, “Neither of you is to blame. I get the whole blame thing. She killed Tish because of me.” She let go of Rabbit’s hand and stepped back. “I couldn’t give Bananach what she demanded, not my blood or the king’s or Seth’s.”
She saw Seth and Devlin in the hallway behind Gabriel. She caught and held Seth’s gaze as she told him, “I considered killing you, but Irial and Niall wouldn’t like it. There’d be too many other consequences that would please Bananach. But if I’d thought I had to kill you to save Tish… maybe. Probably.”
“We need a plan,” Devlin started.
Seth looked over his shoulder to Devlin for a moment. “I know what I want: Bananach dead.”
Ani smiled. “Seth, I think this the first time I might actually see why people like you.”
Devlin frowned. “We cannot kill her.”
“I know.” Ani looked at him. “So what do we do?”
“The High Court’s assassin doesn’t make the decisions around here,” Gabriel growled.
“No, I don’t, but neither do you.” Devlin didn’t raise his voice or react to Gabriel’s menace. “Do you have any idea what your daughter is?”
“Dark Court.” Gabriel stepped into the hallway. “Unlike you.”
“Devlin!” Ani started toward them, but Rabbit put a hand on her shoulder.
“Wait,” Rabbit murmured.
Seth came into the room, giving Gabriel and Devlin space to sort things out. He reached out to Rabbit and clasped his forearm. “Sorry, man.”
Rabbit nodded. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Ani didn’t want to talk about grief, not now, not ever. She wanted to plan.
She raised her voice, though, and called out, “Irial?”
“Shush, love,” Irial called back. “It’s just territory stuff they need to square away before we can get to business. Let them talk.”
Gabriel and Devlin were glaring at each other.
“That’s not going to end with talking.” Ani sat down beside Rabbit and watched the confrontation.
Her brother put his arm around her. “Gabriel needs to deal with his grief.”
“By beating my…” Her words faded as she tried to figure out what term finished that sentence.
“Your what?” Gabriel growled. He shoved Devlin. “Her what?”
“Stop.” Ani jumped up, crossed the threshold, and stepped in front of her father. “He kept me safe.”
“He’s the High Queen’s thug—”
“Yeah, and you’re the Dark King’s.” She rolled her eyes. “So what?”
Gabriel reached out like he’d move her aside, and without thinking, Ani caught his hand in hers—and stopped it.
His eyes widened, and he grinned. Before she could react, he pulled back his other arm like he was going to punch her.
“I don’t think so.” She ducked and swung, and—for the first time in her life—saw her father actually moved by her punch.
Reflexively, he punched back—not the insulting love taps he’d thrown before, but a true punch from a Hound striking out at an equal.
“You tried to hit me,” she murmured. “You actually tried to hit me!”
“I did”—he touched his face—“and you did hit me.”
She leaned against him. “Finally.”
Gabriel was staring at her with pride. “You got me one worthy of Che. How?”
“She’s barely—if at all—mortal.” Devlin’s voice was even, sounding falsely calm. “Her mortal blood has been consumed by yours, Gabriel. It’s part of why she is so unusual, and—I suspect—because Jillian had an ancestor who wasn’t fully mortal.”
“Huh.” Gabriel scooped her up in a hug. “Still my pup, though. Still not going to hare off on your own again without telling us. Right?”
“I was trying to make sure you all were safe.” Ani feigned a snarl, but she wasn’t angry with him for being protective. It was a Dark Court trait and a Hound trait. “And Devlin and Barry were with me. I wasn’t alone.”
Gabriel lowered her back to the ground. “Barry?”
“I named my steed,” she said.
Gabriel squeezed her shoulder, and Ani felt better.
With a flash of realization, she understood that Devlin had known that a bit of violence would soothe her. He mightn’t have the right words, but he understood her. She looked at him and smiled.
The relief in his expression made her heart tighten. She reached out for his hand. “So, now what?”
Devlin nodded and turned to Gabriel. “If the fighting has calmed you, perhaps we can proceed to the planning?”
“This doesn’t mean I like you any better than I ever did.” Gabriel flashed his teeth at Devlin. “You fail her, and
I’ll beat you until you’re begging—”
“If I fail her, a beating will be the least of my pain.” Devlin pulled Ani close to him.
Gabriel paused, nodded at them, and walked to the living area, where Irial and Niall were waiting.
Devlin leaned back into the sofa and watched the others argue. They alternated between sitting on the worn leather sofa and chairs, pacing, and snarling at one another.
Too many kings at the helm.
Irial listened, but he was as forceful as he’d been as king. These were his people, his family. Niall, Rabbit, and Ani were precious to the former Dark King. The current Dark King was just as bad: Seth was as a brother to him.
And I must keep Seth safe as well. For Sorcha.
And Niall. Irial would be dangerous if Niall were to die.
And… all of them. For Ani.
And Ani. Devlin glanced at her. Most of all. Ani must be safe.
The thought of Bananach killing Ani was unacceptable. He understood then, on a very core level, that this was the danger of emotions. If she were killed, he would be willing to damn them all.
“Ani should stay with us,” Irial repeated.
“Think for a minute.” Gabriel shook his head. “You put all the targets in one building… Bananach isn’t a fool. She’ll come at us with everything if we make it that easy.”
“Do you have a better plan?” Irial’s voice didn’t get louder, but everyone in the room flinched.
Niall put a hand on Irial’s forearm. Irial pulled his gaze from the Hound who’d been his advisor for centuries and looked at his king.
“Gabriel’s right, and you know it,” Niall said. “You’re not thinking clearly. Let me handle this?”
For a moment, Irial looked down at Niall’s hand. “I cannot lose anyone else.”
“I know.” Niall did not look away, did not remove his hand. “We all want the same things. Your grief is in the way of your planning. Let your… king look after the court. Trust me?”
“Always,” Irial assured him. Then he left the room and went into the kitchen.
After he was gone, Niall spoke as if there were no doubt. “Ani and Rabbit need to stay together, but Seth cannot stay with them. I can take Seth to Faerie if he is willing to go.” Niall looked at Seth with a gentleness that seemed at odds with the illusion those in Faerie held of the Dark Court. “I won’t insist on your return to Sorcha, but if Devlin is right…”