Court of Darkness: A Demons of Fire and Night Novel (Institute of the Shadow Fae Book 2)

by C. N. Crawford

  When I turned back, Ruadan was gone. A pit opened in my chest, and I shivered. I lay back down on the cold stone floor and closed my eyes. But this time, dreams of Emain didn’t enter my mind.

  Instead, an old memory rose in my skull—one I’d long tried to forget. A field, rotten with fae bodies…

  My eyes snapped open again, and I stared at the ceiling. Maybe I’d just stay awake tonight.

  With Ruadan gone, I realized he’d left something behind for me—my bug-out bag. This time, there was no way it was an accident. He’d actually gone into the prison to fetch it for me.

  Was he being nice?

  I crushed the dangerous thought as soon as it entered my mind.

  Chapter 14

  Ealdun poured me another measure of whiskey. I needed the drink, considering I’d been stuck in this tiny room for the past twenty-four hours. While the other novices had been training, I’d been locked in here with no one for company but my guard. Worse, he’d alternated with a much more unpleasant guard who tried to insist that I call him “Master.”

  I supposed it was part of my ongoing punishment, but I had no bath in here, and no clothes to change into. I was still wearing the ashy, blood-stained dress from the last trial, and I’d just stopped wearing underwear all together. I did my best to wash with the little bowl of water, while Ealdun repeatedly asked if he could help.

  Unlike Master, Ealdun loved to chat. After one day, I knew that he never wanted to have children, that he liked thongs on a woman but women didn’t wear them enough these days, and that he had nightmares about being smothered by mermaids’ breasts—and also longed for such a death.

  He wasn’t the worst guard in the world, given that we had similar hobbies. Namely, whiskey and vulgarity.

  Still, none of this was helping me get ready for the next trial. In fact, all the sitting around and drinking was basically the opposite of training for combat.

  “I’m not sure I’m going to survive my next trial, Ealdun.”

  “Nonsense. Whiskey will fortify you. It’s fortifying me. I’ve got a bit of a cold.” Ealdun sniffed. “Whiskey’s good for a cold.”

  I frowned. “Is it?”

  He nodded. “Kills the bug, innit. Gets the bug drunk, and the bug dies of all the alcohol.” He knocked back his shot. “They can’t process alcohol, right? Bugs don’t have the right sort of livers for it.”

  Ealdun really wasn’t the brightest bulb, but I just nodded rather than arguing.

  “My dog Scroton has a bit of whiskey every morning.”

  I stared at him. “First of all, you have a dog named Scroton? Please tell me that’s an Ancient Fae word.”

  “It is, actually.”

  “What does it mean?”

  He sipped his drink. “Scrotum.”

  “Right.” Despite all the alcohol, tension gripped my entire body. As much as I enjoyed sitting around and drinking whiskey with idiots, a cloud of doom was hanging over me. I had to pass the next trial, or I faced a certain and excruciating death at the hands of Savus, or perhaps Ruadan. And what would happen to Ciara if I died? I wouldn’t be here to protect her. I had to exploit every advantage I could.

  So I poured Ealdun another shot. The man had a tolerance to rival Hannibal’s elephants, and we were now on day two of my attempt to get him completely wankered.

  I had a powerful buzz going on, but I’d only been drinking one shot for every three of his. Any more alcohol and I’d be unable to do anything.

  I filled his glass to the top. “Best get that bug nice and drunk so he doesn’t do any damage.”

  Ealdun mumbled under his breath, and he took another sip. He was muttering something about how there were two kinds of women: those who took it up the bum, and those who did not, but I did my best to ignore his binary classification of the entire female gender.

  When his head lolled, his eyes closed, and I knew I had my chance to sneak out of there.

  Baleros’s seventeenth law of power: Never let an opportunity go to waste.

  I wanted to find Ruadan to learn what I could for my next trial. Ever since I’d told him, “Fuck off and don’t come back in my room,” I’d regretted it a bit. Yes, I’d been angry at him. He’d hurt my feelings, and I didn’t want to let him do it again.

  But this was bigger than hurt feelings. This was my survival. And whether or not I liked it, my life—and Ciara’s—depended on Ruadan’s help.

  When Ealdun’s snores began to echo off the stones, I crouched down on the floor.

  It hadn’t taken long for me to find the way that Ruadan had entered the room. After my temper had cooled, I’d simply lifted the rug.

  He was the Wraith, yes, but he couldn’t transport himself through material things like walls and windows. He’d actually just walked into the room—albeit in his silent and stealthy Wraith-like way.

  While Ealdun snored, I pulled up the rug. Inset into the stone, lay a wooden trapdoor. I’d found it during the night, but I hadn’t been able to risk lifting it without Ealdun noticing.

  The trapdoor creaked, revealing a ladder that led down one level into darkness. A quick glance at Ealdun told me he was still asleep.

  I jammed my hand into my bug-out bag, and pulled out my headlamp. I flicked it on. After drying out, the trusty thing was working again.

  With the light beaming from my head, I slipped into the hole, climbing down the ladder in my bare feet.

  The dank tunnel air whispered over my bare thighs. At the bottom of the ladder, my feet hit wet, slimy rock. The white circle of light from my head illuminated glistening stone walls. Here, the air hung heavy with the smell of moss and mildew, and maybe a bit of fungus. I regretted not having slipped my boots on, but I’d been too tipsy to think of it.

  Down here in the tunnel, I could feel myself stumbling. The combination of whiskey and the sludge on the floor made it hard to balance.

  Still, I was starting to home in on the scent I’d been trying to track. Pine, a hint of apples. For whatever reason, Ruadan’s smell now stood out to me among all the others.

  Locked iron grates interrupted the ceiling in some places, and light pierced the cracks, flecking the stone floor.

  At last, the scent of pine and apples grew more powerful, and I knew I was drawing closer to him. But when the sound of footfalls began echoing off the walls, my heart slammed against my ribs. I flicked off my headlamp, my muscles tensing. I wasn’t alone down here. Who in the seven hells was that? I had nothing to use as a weapon, so I hoped I could take them with my bare hands.

  Time for a quick retreat.

  I whirled, breaking into a run on the slick floor. I nearly slipped a few times, but I righted myself. I hadn’t gotten very far when a rush of cold magic slid over my skin—then, a powerful arm hooked around my waist.

  When he pulled me closer, I slowed down long enough to breathe in the scent of pine. Ruadan’s powerful arms enveloped me, and I felt strangely vulnerable in his grasp.

  I willed my heartbeat to slow. “Ruadan. Fancy meeting you here.”

  I flicked my headlamp back on.

  “Arianna. I was hoping you’d come for me.” He was still holding on tight to me, his grip confusing me with its warmth and protectiveness. “I was just on my way to see you.” His deep voice stroked my skin.

  “Even after I forbade you from intruding?”

  “Yes. Whether or not the intrusion is unwelcome, you need me to survive your next trial.”

  “Right. Well, that’s why I came to find you, as it happens.”

  Ruadan loosened his grip on me, and he turned back in the other direction. “You reek of whiskey.”

  “That’s not all I reek of. I’m hoping to take a bath in your room.”

  His thrilling magic snaked over my body.

  Ruadan shook his head. “Savus can’t know that I’m helping you.”

  “Why?”

  Shadows lashed the air around him, sucking up all the light from my headlamp.

  “The Grand Master must
think that I hate you,” Ruadan explained. “If he believes I favor you, he’ll continue to find worse and worse ways to torment you.”

  I frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  Ruadan shook his head. “He hates me, and he wants to crush anything and anyone that I might…favor. That’s why I couldn’t heal you fully—Maddan had to think you were still injured. It’s why I’ve had to create a spectacle of derision for you. I need Savus to believe that it’s real.”

  “Why does he hate you?”

  His jaw tightened, and a heavy silence filled the room. For a moment, I was certain Ruadan had lapsed into his characteristic “vow of silence” trick, until he finally answered. “Grand Master Savus and I have a history. That’s all.”

  That illuminated almost nothing, but what did I expect? It was Ruadan, after all.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “When you dragged me down the corridor and threw me in the Palatial Room, did you leave the backpack with me on purpose?”

  “I rarely make mistakes.”

  “And when you called me ‘gutter fae’—”

  “It’s important that the others think I’m disdainful of you, or things will become much worse for you.”

  I loosed a breath I’d been holding. Hearing that his cruelty had all been for show felt like a weight off my shoulders, and I hated that I cared so much.

  “It’ll be fine if I take a bath and change. I’ll convince Ealdun that he got me the clothes I asked for. He won’t remember a thing from tonight.”

  We reached a trapdoor, and Ruadan paused. He pushed on it, and it slammed open into his room. Then, he leaned down and grabbed me by the waist. He hoisted me up into the light.

  My head was definitely swimming from the booze, and I toppled over a little, onto the stone floor. By the time Ruadan pulled himself inside, I’d managed to right myself, straightening my hair like I was totally composed.

  Ruadan closed the door behind him. “You bypassed Ealdun.”

  “He drinks a lot. He’s snoring over the table right now.”

  “That’s why I chose him as your guard. He’s terrible at his job. And as you might have guessed, I chose your room strategically.”

  “I don’t suppose you have a change of clothes that would fit me?”

  Ruadan crossed his arms, his body growing still. “You really risked coming here just for a bath?”

  “No, I also want to learn about my next trial. I’d very much like to avoid that whole iron pincers situation.”

  His electrifying magic kissed my skin. “The next task will be difficult for you.”

  Great. “Fill me in while I’m bathing.”

  I’m not sure at which point I’d decided that I liked being naked around Ruadan—possibly it had been when I’d been in his bed, hepped-up on lust magic, and I’d felt the way his body had tensed. Then, there was the bath where his body had again become rigid with tension.

  As far as I could tell, he lived to brood, and I liked ruining it for him.

  So as I started across to the bathroom, I tugged up the hem of my dress, making sure he got a view of my bum. He might be a stronger fighter than I was, but his pent-up desire gave me some power over him, and I could practically feel his gaze drinking in my body as I pulled off the dress.

  Completely naked, I let my hips sway a little as I crossed into the bathroom, and Ruadan’s magic whispered over my skin, raising the hair on my nape. Ice frosted the air as a pulse of his magic billowed through the room, and my nipples hardened. A smile curled my lips.

  I was definitely getting to him.

  Once through the arched doorway, I tossed the dress on the floor next to the tub, which was already burbling with spring-fed warm water. Steam rose from the surface. I stepped into the hot bath, the water reddening my legs.

  I slipped all the way in, closing my eyes. I didn’t really want to have to leave here and listen to Ealdun’s snoring all night, but I suppose I’d have to.

  “Are you coming in?” I asked.

  “While you bathe?” The torches in the room flickered on and off.

  Ruadan crossed into the room, his movements as predatory as ever, and he refused to look at me. Then, his dark magic snaked through the air. It curled around the torch flames until it snuffed all the light from the room. With his entrance, he’d smothered every light particle.

  I let out a long sigh. “Now I don’t know where the soap is. You’ll have to come over and help me.”

  “You’re trying to tempt me. Is it just me, or do you thrive in chaos?”

  “Chaos is an opportunity. Don’t you know that? Anyway, I don’t know what the problem is—oh that’s right. The whole virginity thing. No wonder you get angry so easily.”

  “For the love of the gods.” Irritation laced his voice. “I’m not a virgin. I’ve only been here fifteen years.”

  “Right. Just celibate. And why is it that you have to be celibate?”

  “Grand Master Savus’s orders.”

  “He’s an arsehole.”

  “He believes self-denial encourages mental fortitude. Incidentally, that brings us to the next trial. You will need mental fortitude.”

  It was unfortunate that he couldn’t see my eye roll in the dark. “I thought you said I’d be bad at it. I’m perfectly mentally strong.”

  “You lack discipline. You showed up drunk tonight, and within minutes you were also naked.”

  “I mean, yes…” The bath felt amazing, and I clumsily felt around the stone rim of the tub until my hand slid over the bar of soap. “Naked and drunk. I can see why that would look bad on paper. In my defense, I have had a hell of a week.”

  “You solve most of your problems with violence. You were unable to withstand the gorta without slaughtering him. You stabbed—sorry—stopped my heart with a silver setback in my aorta.”

  Spring water burbled into the tub, pooling between my thighs. “Are we just pointing out each other’s flaws now? Because as far as I can tell, you’re a giant killjoy with no friends.”

  “You surround yourself by those weaker than you, because they can’t control you, and you use them to distract you from things you’d rather forget.”

  I gritted my teeth, now furiously scrubbing at my arms with the soap. “Look, criticize it all you want, but I did pass the gorta trial.” I inhaled deeply, willing my body to relax in the warm spring water. “So what is this trial, another hunger fae?”

  “No. It’s called a gwyllion. A female fae who came to London from Snowdonia. You will be asked to fetch something from her lair. And when you do, she will torment you with your worst fears and memories. Your mission will be to withstand the mental torture for as long as it lasts. You cannot run from her.”

  For once, I was quiet, soaping my body in silence. Unfortunately, Ruadan was right. I would not be good at that. This was not like killing vampires, and I did not welcome the idea of a Welsh mountain fae rooting around in my mind.

  Chapter 15

  “How do I prepare for it?” I asked, after a moment.

  “The same way you prepare for anything,” he said. “You practice.”

  Even in the warmth of the bath, my body was tensing. There were many things I’d rather not think about. I ran the soap over my legs, scrubbing harder, wearing the damn bar down to a nub. Still, I would show Ruadan that I had plenty of mental fortitude. “How?”

  “I can help you summon your darkest memories.”

  “You can?”

  “I’m a demigod of darkness.”

  “Oh, right.” I splashed water over my shoulders, dreading what was to come. “Is that Ancient Fae for ‘brooding killjoy with no friends’? Sounds like the same idea.”

  “Get out of the bath.”

  “You’re very bossy, you know that?” Still, I complied with his orders, and I stood.

  Water dripped down my naked body, and I squeezed out my hair into the tub. I hadn’t planned ahead with a towel or anything like that, so my wet feet slapped against the stone floor. Maybe it w
as the whiskey, but I felt an overwhelming urge to move closer to Ruadan. Barefoot, I crossed over to him until I was standing right next to his heat. Warmth radiated off his body onto my damp skin. I inched just a little closer, until my breasts brushed against his chest.

  His magic rushed off him in a wave of power, flowing over my skin. Then—for just a moment—his fingers were on my waist. Instantly, my back arched.

  I couldn’t see him in the dark, but I looked up at him anyway.

  With a low growl, he snatched his hand away. “Get dressed.” His voice was curt, commanding.

  A smile curled my lips. And because I was me, I inched just a little closer, pressing my body against his. His muscles completely tensed, and it was like standing pressed up against a stone wall. “But I don’t have any clothes,” I protested.

  He pulled away from me, stalking out of the bathroom, taking his darkness with him. The shadows snapped back into his body as he prowled to his dresser. I stared at him from behind, frowning at his arms. He was wearing a black T-shirt, and red scars slashed across the back of his powerful biceps.

  “What happened to your arms?” It must have been iron—the only substance he wouldn’t heal from easily.

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled open the drawer of his bureau.

  “Someone attacked you with iron,” I said. “How did they manage to get that close?”

  He selected a black shirt from his drawer and held it out without looking at me.

  Whatever had happened to him, I felt bad about it, so I’d stop tormenting him with my boobs for now. I crossed to him, grabbing the shirt from his hand, and I pulled it over my head. It reached about midway down my thighs. My wet hair dampened the shoulders. “Thanks. You can be helpful sometimes. When you’re not locking me in dung holes and whatnot.”

  “We have work to do.” He turned to me, silver glinting in his eyes. “Sit down. On the floor.”

  I did as instructed, planting my bottom on the cold flagstones. I hugged myself. Ruadan’s room always felt a little colder than the rest of the Institute. That was his magic, I guess.