by Fleur Smith
“Are you sure about that?” I took another slow, menacing step toward Troy and he faltered. “Now tell me, why are you here?”
He strengthened his resolve and advanced on me in return. “I don’t have to tell you anything, filthy scum.” He lifted the athame and pointed it at me as he spoke.
“You stole my husband from me,” I hissed. “You endangered your son’s life and wiped his memory. Damn straight you owe me an explanation!”
“Evie!” Clay shouted through the door, banging loudly against the wood. It wouldn’t be long before he’d either break it down or burst through it.
Troy’s gaze fell onto the door before he turned back on me. “You stole my family from me. You stole everything from me.”
“You killed my father!” He may not have been the one that pulled the trigger, but Louise had, and I had no doubt it was at his instruction.
“He refused to hand you over.”
“Of course he did,” I screeched. “I’m his daughter! You don’t hurt your family, regardless of what they are!”
He lunged at me with the knife raised, and I twisted away from him before ducking under his arm. I grabbed for the blade in his hand, but he shifted out of my reach before I could touch the hilt.
“It’s filth like you that ruin everything good in this world!” he shouted.
The fire spread to climb up the wall and licked at the edge of the doorframe.
“No. It’s people like you, the ones who are willing to hurt others in order to achieve their own goals. That’s what ruins the good things in the world.”
Clay continued to smash his hands against the door, banging almost loud enough to drown out his shouts. “Don’t you dare fucking hurt her, Dad!”
Troy snarled at the door that stood between him and Clay. With his eyes flashing with manic purpose, his gaze flicked rapidly between the door, the fire, and me. He stood wielding the knife and waving it to and fro like a lunatic. His eyes were crazed, as he no doubt tried to figure out where his plan had come unraveled.
“You know what,” I said as the anger within me fizzled away at the sorrowful sight. Knowing that the twins were safe, and that Clay was too, I didn’t feel the man before me posed any real threat. Aiden could take him to court, and he could finally face justice for what he’d done to Louise. I moved closer to him, still watching for any movement, but feeling safer than I ever had when I thought of the power of the Rain Elite. “You’re so pathetic I can’t even hate you. I just feel sorry for you. You want to know why I have the love of your family?”
His lips remained fixed in a sneer, but he didn’t answer my question. Not that I expected him to.
“Because I never once made them feel like anything less than wonderful for being exactly who they are.”
“You won’t win!” he growled, lunging at me again. Every moment of training Clay and I had done in Sweden was coursing through me as I deflected his arm and grabbed his wrist. I twisted his hand until he dropped the knife. Still clinging to him, I kicked out my leg, planting the edge of my heel into the center of his stomach. His breath rushed from his body in a rapid exhale.
“It’s not a contest,” I scoffed as he fell to the floor, winded by my strike. Without turning away from him, I backed up to the door. Clay had been silent on the other side for far too long, and I worried what he might be trying to do. “What’s sad is that if you’d just been willing to open your eyes to the reality of the world, even a little, your family probably would have eventually forgiven your mistakes. That’s just the sort of amazing people they are.”
I unlocked the door and the instant it opened, Ethan and Aiden charged straight in with a fire extinguisher and fire blanket. It was only when things were calmer that I wondered why the fire alarm hadn’t gone off. A quick glance at the ceiling confirmed Troy had disabled it—no doubt in an attempt to keep his assassination attempt on the twins covert.
Verity followed close behind him with her turned up nose puckered tighter than I’d seen it since she’d walked into the house. “This is all highly irregular and exactly why I prefer to stay at the court.”
Troy lunged for the athame, clutching it in his hand as he dragged himself back to his feet. Still struggling for breath, he watched with mad eyes at the influx of bodies flooding into the room. While I continued to monitor him, I wondered whether maybe his mind had snapped. He didn’t move to attack anyone, just continued to stare with wild eyes at the assortment of fae and human working together to put out the fire. Occasionally he shifted the direction of his blade toward another possible target, but I stood by, ready to counter any attack.
Louise walked into the room, glanced at the damaged crib, took a deep breath and spun toward her father. Calm as ever, and without a word, she lifted her arm and raised a gun to Troy’s head.
The athame in Troy’s hand lowered.
“Louise, don’t!” I cried as her finger curled around the trigger.
My shout drew Aiden’s and Ethan’s attention and they leaped toward Louise, wrestling her into submission.
Struggling against their hold, she looked at her father with clear contempt on her face.
“You should have let me do it!” she sobbed as her calm exterior shattered. “You know what he did to me. It was wrong. It was wrong, Daddy! How could you do that?”
What little remained of Troy’s composure broke at the sight of Louise’s tears. He fell to his knees with an apology on his lips.
Aiden left Ethan to console Louise and gathered Troy into his arms. When Troy stood, the athame remained on the ground where he’d dropped it in the instant before he collapsed under Louise’s anger.
“This one has an almost countless number of violations, Aiden,” Verity said with clear disdain as she clutched her head with one hand and her stomach with another. The corners of her mouth creased almost as much as her nose, and I understood the reason for her upturned nose. If she experienced the pain of people we’d hurt, our house would have been a practical torture chamber for her.
No wonder they keep to themselves. And no wonder they would never want to see me.
“There’s at least a hundred violations—two hundred maybe. Not just attacks, but deaths. I can’t even count them all, it just hurts.”
Aiden nodded. “The Tribunal has spoken. Troy, you will be held at the fae court for the duration of your sentence.”
The statement seemed to rouse Troy. “Get your filthy hands off me!” He swiveled his head in my direction and shouted at me. “This is all your fault, freak!”
His use of that word, the one word that still had the power to inflict pain on me, was too much. My anger boiled over again, and I covered the handful of steps to reach him in less than a heartbeat. A sickening thud echoed through the room the instant my perfectly formed fist connected with his temple.
Troy’s shouting ceased as he slumped forward in Aiden’s arms.
Every pair of eyes in the room turned to face me with varying looks of awe. I resisted the urge to shake my fist to relieve the pain and ruin the perfect moment I was wallowing in. My fingers and knuckles protested painfully to any further attempt at movement though.
Holy shit! That hurt way more than I thought it would.
“Bad ass!” Ethan exclaimed.
“Why do you get to punch him?” Louise whined with a chuckle.
“One year for every violation?” I questioned Aiden, trying to keep a straight face and not cry out in agony.
Aiden nodded. “For every injury. Ten for every death. Verity?”
Verity crossed toward Troy and touched her fingertips to his forehead. Instantly, he stirred but stood compliantly in Aiden’s hold. A blank look covered his features, as if all the muscles that held his expressions in place were loosened all at once.
“Where’s Clay?” I asked, searching for one of the three people missing from the room. When I was certain no one was watching, I cradled my sore fingers with my other hand.
“Here,” he said from where he s
tood in the doorway, a baby balanced in each arm, and one eyebrow raised as his gaze fell to my hands. He didn’t say anything about it, though, just smiled slightly to himself.
A silent understanding passed between us.
“I was going crazy trying to get in, and it was panicking Ava. Ethan and Aiden convinced me to let them try to get in here instead. They said these two needed the time with me before . . .” His eyes drifted down to Ava and David as he trailed off.
I frowned. “Aiden, there’s got to be something you can do,” I begged. “You’ve got the real threat now. Clay won’t hurt anyone. I promise. I can guarantee it. Please?”
“I am very sorry, Lynnie. Unfortunately, my hands are tied by the Tribunal’s decree. If Clay returns to the court, he will have to face his time in the Void.”
“Ten years?” I murmured.
Clay moved closer to me and offered me Ava. I picked up my special little girl and cradled her close to me, holding her with my left arm so that I didn’t damage my hand any further. It didn’t matter whether she would only have her gift until she was seven, I would ensure that she would never be powerless, even if I had to do that alone.
I didn’t want to do it alone though.
“Wait,” Clay murmured, lifting David into a more comfortable position against his chest. “You said, ‘if’.”
Aiden turned his gaze on Clay, and the corner of his mouth twitched up slightly. “You caught that, did you?”
I looked between them. “What if Clay doesn’t return?” I asked, catching hold of the same thread as Clay.
Aiden shrugged. “Neither I nor Fiona have any significant ability to enforce fae law outside of the walls of the court.”
Verity frowned. “Aiden, I do not believe you should be recommending that he escapes punishment.”
Aiden grinned widely at her. “I am recommending no such thing, and I am sure that each of the witnesses here will declare the same. I am merely offering a friendly suggestion to Lynnie that her husband should perhaps avoid the place where he will be forced to endure his punishment.”
“Could Mom still visit him here?” Ethan asked.
Aiden shrugged. “I have no authority over where the queen chooses to go.”
I couldn’t help the smile that lifted the corners of my lips. “So you’re not going to make him go with you?”
“Unfortunately, I am at capacity with this prisoner so I cannot force him to come with me on this occasion.”
I wanted to hug Aiden, but we both had our hands full. “You’re the best.”
Aiden turned his gaze to Clay. “Do not make me regret this action.”
Clay shook his head and grinned at me. “I won’t.”
“Ethan, would you please escort Louise home?” Aiden juggled his hold on Troy, passing the flask to Verity who touched it to Troy’s lips, forcing him to drink some of the liquid within before passing the flask across to Ethan.
“How does it work?” I asked, indicating toward Troy with my chin. “He’s not fae, so how will he be punished?”
Aiden grinned, taking a little too much satisfaction from Troy’s unconsciousness. “The same way as a Fae. Now that he is in the Void, his body will be on autopilot. He will eat and drink as his body needs it, so we can ensure he is well fed with enchanted food.”
“But—” I was going to ask why they hadn’t locked Clay away in the Void the moment his punishment was decided, but then it struck me. Aiden didn’t want me to have to witness that.
Even now, if he asked Verity to use her touch, Clay could end up in the hellish nothingness that made up the Void. I met Aiden’s gaze and tried to communicate my thank you nonverbally. He’s only had your best interest at heart, I reminded myself.
He nodded and offered me a smile of true friendship as everyone said their goodbyes. Before I knew it, it was just me, Clay, and the twins left at home. Clay disappeared for a moment and when he returned, he had an ice pack wrapped in a towel, which he offered to me. I took it sheepishly and pressed my swollen knuckles against the cool surface.
“Why don’t you go to our room and look after these two?” Clay asked. “I’ll clean this mess up.”
“Okay,” I murmured quietly. It had been a long day, one full of surprises and changes, but I couldn’t overlook one simple fact. One word had lifted the shattered pieces of my heart and sent them fluttering around my body in confusion.
He’d said our room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“IT’S MOSTLY SURFACE damage, some paint and a bit of new carpet and it should be fine.” Clay didn’t even knock when coming back to report on the damage in the nursery.
I was still nursing Ava when he entered the room. Two weeks ago, I would have been mortified that he’d just wandered in. With the equilibrium we’d found, I had grown to be almost comfortable with him, and it had become my habit not to hide away while I nursed the twins.
After waking with his arm wrapped around me, and the subsequent stirring of my almost-buried emotions, it had settled to being somewhere in the middle—a little awkward but not unbearably so. Regardless, I ensured I wasn’t accidentally exposing anything to him.
David was lying on the bed beside me kicking his legs and making soft gurgling sounds. I blew a raspberry at him and gave his tummy a little tickle with my fingertips. For a moment, I thought he smiled at me, but it was probably just gas.
When I caught Clay watching me, I offered him a small smile.
“They’ll need a new crib,” he said, scrubbing the back of his neck. “That one is beyond ruined.”
“We’ll have to go out tomorrow to get one. The store will be shut by now.”
“Do you think they’d let us take the one from the room at the court?”
His words brought to mind all of the special touches that he’d done to the room he’d picked when I was recovering from the bullet wound his father had inflicted. It was all lost to him now. Even I was unlikely to stay there if it was going to cause Ava issues. There was no point in it all sitting at the court not being used. I wondered whether Fiona would be offended if I bought it all back to our home.
“Maybe we shouldn’t push our luck just yet,” I said finally. Perhaps it was a better option than shopping for a new one, but we did have something else we could use in the meantime. “We bought a playpen when we got the nursery furniture. It’s in the back of the closet. It should be fine to use that for a night or two.”
He nodded and disappeared to get it. A minute later, he was back in the bedroom setting it up. “I think it’s better in here for the moment,” he said without meeting my gaze. “Because of the smoke,” he added quickly.
“I’m glad he didn’t do anything to them too,” I said, guessing at his true intention behind setting up the temporary crib in our room.
He twisted to offer me a look that told me I’d hit the nail on the head. “I’m sorry I brought him back into your life. He’s obviously been watching the house, waiting for the moment I promised—when all of his children would be here together.” He ignored the half-constructed crib and crossed to the bed, sitting opposite me.
“You don’t need to apologize for him. He chose his own actions, and you chose yours. You really came through for us today.”
“I didn’t have to though. You sure know how to fight.”
“I had a great teacher.” I smirked and then realized he didn’t know what that meant. I dropped my gaze to Ava’s lilac eyes, staring up at me as she nursed.
“I taught you, didn’t I?” he asked in a soft murmur.
With my teeth buried in my lip, I glanced back up at him. “How did you know?”
“You get this certain look whenever you talk about him.”
“You.”
He shrugged. “Whatever. All I know is Eth was right, that was a pretty badass right hook you’ve got. Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
Our eyes met.
“Again,” he said with a joking tone that hid the undercurrent of tension t
hat seemed to be growing between us by the second. He looked away. “How’s the hand?”
“It’s still a little tender.” I chuckled. “That hurt way more than I thought it would.”
He reached across for my hand, lifting it close to his face to inspect it before pressing his lips against the swollen joints so fast and soft that I could have imagined it. “Maybe we should get it checked by a doctor?”
I shook my head and drew my hand back close to my body. His soft kiss had sent my emotions swerving off course again, and my breathing was ragged as a result. God, I want him! “I’ll be fine,” I managed.
He frowned.
“If it’s not better tomorrow, then we’ll see,” I conceded.
MY HAND was better the next morning, still sore but much less swollen.
It was also closed lightly around Clay’s fingers, pressing his palm against the sliver of my stomach that had been left exposed by my pajamas. Once more, his arm was draped over my waist and his face was buried in my hair. The tips of his fingers rested just beneath the band on my yoga pants. I moved slowly, not wanting to wake Clay. When I tried to shift away from him, his hold tightened. With his body flush against mine, I had to remind myself that the reaction in his body that was currently pressed against the back of my thigh was one that was natural for all men first thing in the morning and had nothing to do with me.
I tried to escape from his embrace again, but Clay just stirred sleepily with a smile on his lips. “Morning,” he croaked as he blinked in the sunlight.
“Morning,” I squeaked in response. Each time I’d woken during the night to feed the twins, he’d been wrapped around me or tucked in close beside me. It seemed whatever had been keeping us in a regular orbit around each other had collapsed in on itself, but I still didn’t know what it might mean. He made no moves to get closer to me or rekindle what we’d had, but neither did he repulse away from our nighttime embraces and keep himself carefully constrained to one side of the bed as he had up until two nights ago.