by Amy Sumida
“Watch it, barghest, or I'll have you neutered,” Raza called out of the carriage window.
Conri's angry stalk faltered, and he cast a worried glance over his shoulder before he hurried to his horse. If there was one thing Conri was attached to, it was his man-package. That and Gradh. Conri and Gradh had recently become exclusive—something Conri had never tried before. So, I suppose that meant Gradh ranked right up there with his private bits.
We started to move, and I laid down on the padded bench, propping my ankles on the window ledge to get more comfortable. Raza chuckled, then saw how relaxed I was and decided to give it a try... after glamouring his wings away. He was so large that he ended up dangling his knees over the window ledge instead of his ankles. Raza laid back on his crossed arms with a sigh.
“Perhaps we should commission a wider carriage,” he mused as he thumped his boot heels on the outside of the coach.
“The Court of the Dragon Kings sent a really wide one for me when I went to visit them,” I said. “But then again, they don't have to travel through inter-kingdom raths. I don't think their carriage would fit.”
“Good point,” Raza grumbled. “I suppose we shall have to make do with things as they are.”
“Oh, the hardships of being royalty,” I lamented sarcastically.
“We are given pleasures like this”—Raza removed one hand from behind his head to wave it at the luxurious interior of the carriage—“because of all the real hardships we endure, Seren. You know by now that this is no easy job. I took the throne to help Unseelie—to save it and its people from Uisdean. But I wouldn't have done so had there been a just ruler, to begin with.”
“I know you wouldn't have,” I said softly. “And I think we both know that Danu was guiding you.”
“She was.” He dropped the arm he'd been waving about and extended it to me. “And I'm grateful to her, but you're starting to sound like a zealot, mo shíorghrá.”
I took Raza's hand and smiled at him. “I have even more to be thankful for than you do, Raza. Danu saved my life and then made it bountiful. Never in a thousand years would I ever have imagined that I'd be married to two amazing men—one of them a dragon-djinn—and engaged to a third. I have a loving father and rule two fairy kingdoms while I'm still able to do what I enjoy most; help people. Danu and I have had some rough patches, and we may have more in the future, but I think she's proven, without a doubt, that I can trust her. If that makes me a zealot, so be it.”
“I notice that you didn't include Tromlaighe on your bountiful list.”
“Unlike Danu, Daxon has yet to prove himself beyond a shadow of a doubt,” I murmured. “And I can't be with a man I don't trust.”
“Every time I think that I may have to step in and help you, you say something that reminds me what an intelligent, capable, and caring woman I married,” Raza said. “I'm relieved that you haven't given your trust or your heart to Tromlaighe yet.”
“Come on, dragon.” I squeezed his hand. “You know me better than that. I don't love easily.”
“No.” His golden eyes softened on me. “But when you do, it's so passionately and so completely that it's easy to forget the fight you put up in the beginning.”
“Sit up,” I purred as I rolled onto the floor of the carriage and got on my knees.
Raza blinked in surprise and shifted back into a seated position. I angled between his legs and started unbuckling his belt. Raza's hand went to mine.
“What are you doing?”
“Close the curtains, dragon.” I smiled slowly. “I've found my second wind, and I intend to use it showing you just how passionately and completely I can love you.”
Raza growled low in his throat as he dove for the curtains.
Chapter Eleven
Later that night, we were just finishing our dinner when my scry phone chimed.
“Seren.” Raza shook his head. “Don't make me wish I'd never invented that thing.”
“Even if I didn't have it here, one of the castle's crystal balls would have chimed,” I reasoned as I flipped open the leather flap of my scry phone case. “Then I'd have to leave the table to answer it. At least this way, I don't have to leave the table.”
Raza grimaced and sighed. “We've only just returned. Whatever it is; tell them it can wait.”
I ran a finger across the polished quartz slice, and Killian's face appeared. Killian; my fiance, who was also a fellow ambassador to the Councils. He'd been a caster witch when I'd first met him—half Storm and half Flame—but then he'd been transformed into the first nathair-sith (a sort of snake fairy) when he followed me into the Fairy Realm. Now, he was like me; a fairy who had been raised human—abnormally human, but still in the human world. We made the perfect team for dealing with the intricacies and headaches of the Councils.
“Killian,” I said with a smile. “How are you?”
“I'm good, Twilight.” Killian smiled back. “The Three Cs; not so much.”
“What's wrong with the Councils, Casters, and the Coven?” I asked as Raza groaned.
“I take care of a kingdom,” Raza lamented, “and that is hard enough. But you, mo shíorghrá, look after two entire realms, and it is exhausting even to watch.”
“I don't do it alone, Raza.”
“Your damn straight you don't,” Killian grumbled. “At the moment, it's on me.”
“Stop whining, Snake-Eyes, and tell me what's going down.” I narrowed my gaze at Killian.
Killian smirked; his full, sensuous lips curving lusciously as his vividly green eyes flashed. “You getting sassy again, Seren? Cause I still have those handcuffs from the last time.”
“Kill,” I growled.
“We could even use them on you; mix it up a little.”
“Kill!”
“Are you deliberately trying to make my wife yell 'Kill?'” Raza asked Killian.
“Actually, I've been trying to get her to say it repeatedly; like Reaper from Overwatch.” Killian grinned. “That would be awesome. Kill! Kill! Kill!”
“Blair, if you don't stop yammering about a video game and tell me what's going on—right now—I'm ending this scry,” I warned him.
“Sheesh; had a bad day, Twilight?” Killian huffed. “I was only teasing.”
“I've had a long day.” I simmered down. “Now, if you wouldn't mind?”
“Whatever you're doing down in LA with Daxon is having some repercussions across America,” Killian went serious.
“What sort of repercussions?” I growled.
“It's like the Fairy Undergrounds—all of the ones in America; which, oddly enough, are most of them—are in protest of Daxon's new decree against selling magic to humans.”
“What?” I went still.
“Twilight, I've learned so much about fairy undergrounds these last few days that my head is spinning,” Killian grumbled. “So, get this; there are a few undergrounds in other countries around the world—mostly beneath modern metropolises—but America has one in every state. Each state has a fairy ruling its underground—be it a king or a queen. They run their undergrounds individually, and each one has a different technique for keeping the peace if you know what I mean.”
“We know fairies, Killian,” Raza said tiredly. “Of course we know what you mean.”
“It's a figure of speech, Reptile Overlord,” Killian huffed. “And I know that you know human culture, so stop pretending you don't, just to fuck with me.”
“I'd never dissemble over such trivialities,” Raza scoffed.
“What the hell did he just say to me?” Killian asked me.
“He said; 'Buy a dictionary!'” I shouted and then laughed at Killian's shocked expression.
“You're a cruel woman, Twilight,” Killian shook his head sadly. “And I'm stuck with you forever.”
“Oh wah,” I mimicked a baby's cry. “What else do you know about the undergrounds?”
“Oh, yeah.” Killian cleared his throat. “So, as I said, there have been protests—of a sort. Underground r
ulers have given their people free reign to fuck with humans, and one has even invited sorcerers into his underground to sell and purchase supplies.”
Raza and I hissed together.
The Councils had only recently discovered the existence of witches; humans whose ancestors had bred with fairies and produced offspring with magical abilities. These abilities are diluted fairy magic; so diluted that they don't even register as fey on my aura radar. The abilities manifest consistently enough that the witches eventually formed tribes of individuals who shared the same traits. Then they formed a collection of tribes which they called the Coven. Every tribe is descended from a different type of fairy, though the witches hadn't known all of that until after they had come out of the broom closet and joined our secret society. Through a series of events, we had figured out how witches had come to be. But the basic truth about witches was that they were different from the psychically talented humans of the Human Council and the Extinguishers. I had been an extinguisher, and I had several psychic talents available to me, on top of the magic I'd inherited from my fairy father. But they were distinctly unique; different from witch magic.
What the Councils—and most faeries—tried to ignore was that there was yet another type of “magical” human. These humans didn't possess any magic themselves, but they had learned how to harness and manipulate the energy of others. We called them sorcerers, though they often referred to themselves as witches. These humans used the magic remnants found in items to fuel their spells. The items could be as benign as a discarded amulet or as sinister as a selkie's skin. Basically, sorcerers were paranormal parasites; scavengers feeding off the magic of others. The only good thing about sorcerers was that they rarely made any trouble. Usually, they performed their spells in secret, squeezing every last bit of magic out of whatever paranormal refuse they could find. They weren't powerful enough to hunt fairies, so although they had spells that require things like a glastig's hoof, there was little chance that they'd ever get their grubby hands on one. The Wild Hunt had never hunted a sorcerer—not ever. And that's pretty damn impressive considering that the Hunt went after humans who hurt fairies. But now, the lowlife leeches were being let into the Fairy Underground by fairy invitation.
“What moron thought that was a good idea?” I snarled.
“King Barra of the Idaho Underground,” Killian spat out the name.
“Idaho?” I asked dryly. “There's a fairy underground in Idaho?”
“Haven't you been paying attention?” Killian asked impatiently. “There are undergrounds in every state. Even Louisiana, where you'd think it wouldn't be possible, what with the water table being so high.”
“Magic makes anything possible,” Raza murmured thoughtfully.
“You got that right, O' Lizard Liege,” Killian said.
“Killian, you do realize that you're closer to being a lizard than Raza is?” I asked with a bland expression.
Silently, I wondered how I had ended up with two giant reptiles for lovers... and what it said about me that I was perfectly happy with it.
“That only makes it okay for me to use those insults,” Killian reasoned in the ridiculous manner he usually employed. “It's like a black man calling another black man the N-word. For me; it's the L-word.”
“The L-word is lesbian, not lizard,” I corrected him. “And I don't think that's a fair comparison anyway; it may even be insulting to black men.”
“It's insulting to this black man,” Raza said dryly.
“Whatever.” Killian shrugged his leather-clad shoulders. “I'm a lizard, and I'm proud. I may not get to be a lizard king, but I'll definitely be a lizard prince.”
“You'll be neither, you buffoon,” Raza huffed. “You're a snake!”
“Same scales, different body,” Killian shrugged again.
“They are not the same scales... ugh,” Raza threw his hands up in defeat and then shook his head at me. “Why am I even arguing this point? It's preposterous.”
“He draws you in,” I said dryly. “You just can't help trying to reason with his insanity.”
“It's a gift.” Killian nodded smugly.
“What are the Councils doing about the undergrounds, Kill?” I got us back on track.
“Wait; I haven't finished telling you about the sorcerers!” Killian exclaimed.
“It's like talking to a child that has to urinate,” Raza mused. “All this jumping around the subject.”
“I don't jump around,” Killian said. “You distracted me with all your snarky comments.”
“Snakey comments,” Raza corrected.
“Enough!” I nearly shouted. “Finish telling me about the sorcerers, Killian.”
“Sorry,” Kill said sheepishly. “Okay, so there has always been a secret sorcerer demand for fairy products, but now that they've been allowed into the underground, all that black-market magic has come out into the open.”
“Hold on,” I stopped him. “I thought 'black-market magic' was a term for the spells being sold secretly to humans?”
“The items sought after by sorcerers have magic in them,” Killian explained, “therefore, they fall under the same status.”
“Fuck,” I hissed. “Go on.”
“As I said; Barra has been letting sorcerers open shops in his underground,” Killian said soberly. “This has prompted scared fairies to turn on him and become informants for the Boise Council House. There was enough information provided to allow for the Councils to approve search warrants for the Idaho Underground. The Extinguishers were sent in and have raided several cities already, trying to shut down the sorcerer shops, but they keep disappearing before the Extinguishers arrive, and then pop up somewhere else.”
“Because their king supports them.” I sighed.
“Exactly,” Killian said. “Twilight, I was on the last raid. The shop had been shut down in a hurry, and we caught a sorcerer fleeing the scene. The shit he had one him... it was...” Killian swallowed convulsively and shook his head.
“I know, honey,” I whispered. “I've heard about the rare items sorcerers spend their lives looking for.”
“Yeah, but now those rare items are being handed over to them by the fairies themselves,” Killian growled. “Fairies are slaughtering and mutilating other fairies for the money their body parts bring. If we were at war with the humans, I'd say it was the most ingenious tactic I'd ever seen.”
“Sweet Danu,” I whispered.
“Where are the fairies committing these atrocities?” Raza asked. “There have been no incidents reported in Unseelie; no murders or mutilations.”
“It's all done in the undergrounds,” Killian growled. “These bastards pick off the newbies or the ones who haven't adjusted to life on Earth yet.”
“The homeless,” I snarled and swallowed past a painful lump in my throat. “They're killing our lost ones.”
“Yeah,” Killian lowered his voice to a menacing tone. “They are. But we're going to stop them, aren't we, Twilight?”
“You're damn right we are, Blair.”
Chapter Twelve
Raza insisted that I get a good night's sleep before I headed off to save the unfortunate fairies of the Idaho Underground. I was tired enough to give in. So, I told Killian that I'd meet him at his hotel in Boise in ten hours or so. Kill turned the scry phone around, so I had a good picture of the room in my head—without it, I wouldn't be able to travel the In-Between to his location. Since Boise was roughly five hours ahead of Unseelie, that meant I'd get there around 11:00 AM the next day, Boise time. Which gave Killian plenty of time to prepare for my arrival.
But it didn't seem to be enough time for Raza to prepare for my departure.
“It's moments like this that make me wish I were a twilight fairy,” Raza muttered as we got ready for bed that evening.
“I'll have Killian with me,” I reminded him. “And I'm taking my Guard. I'll be fine, Raza.”
“I know,” he huffed. “And I can't go with you, even if I could trave
l the Between. I need to stay and run the kingdom.”
“Paying the price for our nearly-wide-enough carriage?” I teased him as I slid into his arms. “You knew we wouldn't be together all the time.”
“Yes, and I even approved of it,” he agreed. “Absence and the heart and all that.”
“Yes, all that.”
“It's just that every situation you get into seems to be dangerous, mo shíorghrá, and it goes against my nature to let you face danger without me.”
“I'm just a scry away,” I whispered. “If I need you, I can reach you in seconds.”
“That is a comfort.” He didn't sound convinced.
“I love you,” I said firmly.
“That's a bigger comfort.” Raza smiled and then the smile turned wicked. “How tired are you?”
“Very,” I said. “But I'm sure you could change that.”
“It doesn't matter, mo shíorghrá, tonight I'll take care of you.”
Raza picked me up and clutched me tightly to his bare chest. I had only a velvet robe on, but he was completely nude. Still, he strode to the massive window and held me easily with one arm as he used his other hand to open the curve-topped, crystal panes. Cold, mountain air blew in and brought a shiver to my skin. Raza rubbed my body briskly as he stepped onto the window ledge.
“What are you doing?” I asked him; not in the least concerned, merely curious.
“I'm taking you to the highest point in Unseelie.” Raza leapt from our bedroom window.
A loud crack startled me as his wings caught air, and our rapid descent was slowed to a stop. With great beats of his wings, Raza climbed higher with me, until the peak of the mountain Craos-Teine was cradled within came into view. He moved us forward and then stepped down onto the stone apex. There were no plants on the mountaintop; no life other than ourselves. But the view was extraordinary.
“Raza,” I whispered as he set me on my feet, “this is magnificent.”
Raza wrapped his arms around me, and I nestled into his side. He radiated enough heat to keep the chill at bay, and his strong heartbeat was the perfect background music for the moment. Raza's talons disappeared as he ran his fingers through my hair and kissed my forehead.