The Castle of Earth and Embers

by Steffanie Holmes

  “What did they look like?”

  Jane rubbed her head. “Look, just so you know, the police think I was so drunk I can’t remember what I saw. But I know what I saw, and that was these weird little creatures – like enormous dragonflies with clear wings that buzzed a mile a minute. Their bodies were long and green with skinny forearms and hind legs, and faces that looked eerily human, with hair like moss. They almost looked like tiny fairy sprites from story books, which I know sounds mad, but—”

  “It doesn’t sound mad at all,” I whispered. “What happened next?”

  “They flitted around, lifting my baby out of his crib, but they seemed a bit listless, maybe like they were in pain. I tried to grab Connor off them, but they bit or stung me, and it hurt so bad.” She rolled her sleeve up, showing me a scattering of nasty gashes and bites on her arm. “I kept fighting and fighting, but they were so strong, and they got him out of the window. By the time I’d run out the front door after them, they were completely gone. And they left behind a… a pumpkin in the crib.” She scowled. “A pumpkin with a smiling face painted on the side, in blood.”

  “Yikes.” I shivered. What a horrible thing to witness.

  Jane shrugged. “The police think the kidnapper might have used a drone to scoop Connor up through the open window. Apparently, there’s been a similar case of drones used in a kidnapping case up in Scotland. They’ve taken Rory – that’s Connor’s father – in for questioning. But that’s bollocks, too. Rory’s a complete tosser, no argument, but he wouldn’t do this. It’s too… dramatic, too gothic. But that only leaves me with two possible explanations – my tea was drugged, or I’ve gone crazy.”

  I leaned forward and touched her knee. Jane jerked back as though I’d slapped her, but then she relaxed. I withdrew my hand. “I believe you. About the creatures.”

  “You do?” Suspicion crept into her voice.

  “I’ve been living up at Briarwood House. I’ve seen some weird stuff around here, too.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like a guy who attacked me in the field beside the castle. He had claws instead of hands. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I think we may be able to help each other.”

  “How?” She was sounding suspicious again.

  “There’s lots of old books in the library at the castle. They’ve got information about things that look like the creatures that took your baby.”

  “So show them to the police,” Jane said, but her dark eyes sparked with interest.

  “If the police were trying to convince you that you were drunk, then I don’t think they’ll take these books seriously.”

  Jane tilted her head to the side. “Am I going to take these books seriously?”

  I shrugged. “Back in the States, I was a physics major. I was going to MIT. I don’t believe in anything I can’t scientifically measure. And I’m taking these books seriously.”

  “MIT, huh?” Jane gave me a sardonic smile. “You certainly are a Jill-of-all-trades. I’d like to see these books.”

  “Sure. Come up to the castle any time. Tell the ticket office you’re there to see Maeve Moore, and they’ll point you in the right direction.”

  “I thought you said your name was Crawford?”

  I sighed. “It’s a long story, and I’ve got to meet some friends. If you feel like getting out of this place, just stop by at Briarwood. I’m there all the time.”

  “Thanks.” Jane couldn’t quite stretch the corners of her mouth up into a smile, but she made a real effort.

  I stood up, making as though I was about to leave. I glanced toward the narrow staircase at the rear of the room, and the hallway beside it. A mother wouldn’t have a nursery up that steep staircase. That meant Connor’s room would be downstairs. I knew Jane wouldn’t appreciate me looking in, but maybe… “Do you mind if I use the bathroom before I go?”

  She nodded. “Sure. It’s out the back door.”

  I was totally confused about her instructions until I headed down the short hallway and realized there was no bathroom in any of the other rooms – only a small alcove that contained a sewing machine, and another doorway that was closed. Bright red wooden letters on the door spelled CONNOR. I tried the handle, and it clicked open. I pushed the door open as quietly as I could, and peered inside.

  A white crib sat under the mullioned window, which was now locked up tight. Toys lined the bureau, and old-fashioned bunnies in coats and bonnets and capelets romped across the wallpaper. Another old iron horseshoe hung over the crib. With a pang, I noticed a selection of story books lined up on a tiny bookshelf. The first book was titled FAIRY STORIES.

  I couldn’t see anything that seemed like a clue, but I focused on taking in all the details, so I could describe them to the guys later. My heart pounded. All it would take was Jane to come back here and I’d destroy all the trust I’d just built with her.

  I backed out of the room, pulling the door shut behind me. I grabbed the back door and opened it as I clicked the nursery door shut to disguise the sound. At least I’d found the bathroom.

  The cottage was so old it didn’t even have an indoor bathroom. A small outbuilding had been erected just three feet from the back door – a modern replica of the wattle-and-daub construction with hanging baskets of flowers dangling from the eaves. I could see the edge of a basin through the half-open door.

  It looked safe. No fairies. I stepped out and pushed the bathroom door open all the way. Might as well make a pitstop. I closed the door and turned away from the mirror to the toilet.

  “Well, isn’t this cozy?” A deep voice growled against my ear.

  My heart leapt in my chest. I spun around, my hand flying to the knife in my pocket. Hot fingers encircled my wrist, pinning my hand.

  Blake’s lips pulled back into a self-satisfied smirk. “We meet again, Princess.”

  24

  MAEVE

  My heart hammered against my chest. Blake placed his back against the door so that I couldn’t escape the bathroom without somehow getting through him. His bulk and hard muscles suggested that was unlikely. With his other hand, he reached into my pocket and pulled out the knife. “Nice blade,” he said, twisting it this way and that. He dropped my hand, but I didn’t bother to reach for Flynn’s coin or Rowan’s twig. Something told me they wouldn’t do any good.

  “How can you touch that?” I demanded. “It’s made of bronze.”

  “Please.” Blake’s crystalline eyes sparkled as he twirled the blade on his finger. “Don’t patronize me. I know you’ve figured it out by now.”

  “You’re not fae.”

  “Bingo.” I gulped as Blake placed the knife against my throat. The cool blade slid over my skin. My whole body stood on edge, the world standing still, the only thing existing that cold metal and Blake’s shimmering eyes.

  “Please…” I begged.

  “It’s all out in the open,” Blake said, his voice casual, as if he was discussing the weather. “You know my secret, and after everything we’ve shared, I know all sorts of things about you. I know how you like to be kissed along your neck, right against this blade—”

  Bake took the blade away, and I let out a breath, only to suck it back again as he pressed his lips against my neck. Against my terror, my own body betrayed me, brimming with hot desire at the soft touch of his fiery lips. Lust ripped through my body, and that familiar ache throbbed between my legs.

  What the hell is happening to me?

  Blake kissed a trail up the side of my neck, his lips brushing my earlobe, sending delicious shivers through me. “I know how you writhe when that blond Viking runs his tongue along your inner thigh, and how you love the dreadlocked one to suck your nipple so hard you—”

  “Stop,” I choked out.

  Surprisingly, Blake stepped back. The air between us sizzled with sexual tension. I gripped the toilet roll holder to stop myself leaping against Blake, like a magnet seeking its opposite. My chest heaved. What the hell is going on?

&
nbsp; Blake looked a little flummoxed himself, as much as a human pretending to be a fae could look flummoxed. His smirk faltered a little, and he scratched the back of his head. A black curl fell over his eye. “Your wish is my command.”

  “If that’s the case, give back Connor.”

  “That’s out of my control, I’m afraid. If it’s any consolation, Jane’s son is being well looked after.”

  “He’s damn well not. He’s in the hands of the fae, and you’re planning to do something evil with him.”

  “Evil, are we?” That smirk grew wider. “My, how you have got the fae all wrapped up in a lovely little package.”

  “Your friend Kalen keeps trying to kill my friends.”

  Blake’s eyes flashed with something that I might’ve mistaken for anger on someone with actual human emotions. “I took care of him for you.”

  “What?”

  “Let’s just say he won’t be barking up your tree again.” Blake snorted at my blank expression. “he’s dead, Princess. He’s popped his clogs, he’s pushing up the daisies, he’s cashed in his chips, whatever that means. The Unseelie played footy with his severed head, and my team won. If that act of selflessness doesn’t get me into your good graces or your knickers, then I’ll just give up right now.”

  “No, you won’t,” I sighed. “Look, why are you here? If you’re going to do to me what you did to Flynn, just get on with it. I’ll scream, and bring the entire Briarwood coven down on your ass.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Maeve.”

  “Wait, how do you know my name?”

  Blake’s smirk widened. “Ah, I see your friends have taken liberties with the story they gave you. It shouldn’t surprise me.”

  “Have you come to steal me away to your realm, like Connor and the other baby?”

  “I’ll steal you away wherever you want to go,” Blake growled, his voice caressing my insides, making the ache pound with frustration. “But alas, I’m nowhere near strong enough to take you back with me, even if I wanted to. No, I’ve come to give you a friendly warning.”

  “You’re not my friend.”

  “I’d very much like to be.”

  “And this is how you start a friendship? By hurting Flynn and stealing babies and trapping me in a bathroom and invading my dreams?” I hadn’t meant to say that last bit, but the sensation of Blake’s lips on mine, of his cock pounding deep inside me, came back to me, as vivid and visceral as if they’d really happened.

  “It that what you think is happening?” Blake laughed. “Oh, Maeve. You don’t know what you are at all. I didn’t invade your dreams, sweetheart. You’re the one who pulls me in.”

  He’s lying. It’s just some fairy trick designed to confuse me.

  But something that he said made me hesitate. He said the guys hadn’t told me the whole truth. I knew that because of Emily not recognizing me. But I’d been too distracted by croquet games and sword fighting lessons and Viking kisses and theoretical physics to make the guys tell me the truth.

  A surge of anger flared in my veins. I’ve been an idiot. Letting the guys lie to me because of this stupid, schoolyard crush I had on all of them. Well, not anymore.

  I’m getting some answers, one way or another.

  “What is your warning?” I asked Blake.

  “Only this; the fae courts are now united. Their combined power will eventually break down the gateway between our worlds. And take it from someone who’s been there, you don’t want to find out what comes out from that gateway.”

  “You almost sound like you want me to stop them.”

  Blake nodded. “That’s one thing that I want. The other things…” His finger traced a line of fire across my cheek. “Maybe you’ll find out one day soon.”

  Oh, bollocks. My body responded again, and I tilted my chin towards him. Blake tucked a loose strand of my bright pink bangs behind my ear, his fingers sending shivers through me.

  “Why, though? Aren’t you a fae prince or something?”

  “Appearances can be deceiving.” Blake withdrew his fingers, his lips pursing. “Until next time, Maeve Moore.”

  “No, wait—” I grabbed for him, but he disappeared, his body shimmering in the air as his form dissipated into nothing. I swiped my arms around the bathroom, convinced it was some kind of trick, but Blake was nowhere to be seen.

  I did my business, my whole body tingling, and went back into the house. “I’ve got to go,” I said to Jane. “But you’re going to be… I mean, that is…”

  The corner of Jane’s mouth turned up a bit. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  I whipped my phone out of my pocket. “I’ll give you my number. Don’t forget to come up to Briarwood whenever you want.”

  “Hey, if it you think it’ll help find Connor, I’m there.”

  As soon as I shut the front door behind me, the guys peeked out from behind the primrose bush. Arthur took one look at my face, and frowned. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  “What’s wrong is that Blake just appeared in the bathroom, is what’s wrong.”

  “I’ll kill him,” Corbin growled, surging forward, his hands balled into fists.

  “No.” I grabbed Corbin’s collar, yanking him back. “We’re leaving.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Because I’m not going after Blake until I know for a fact that he’s really on the wrong side of this, and right now I’m not sure. I’d be a damn sight more certain if you guys stopped lying to me.”

  Corbin’s lip twitched. “We’re not lying—”

  I held up a hand. “Save it. We’ve going into town to get the equipment I need, and then, when we get back to Briarwood, you boys have some explaining to do.”

  25

  MAEVE

  I set down my bags on the table in the Great Hall. Luckily, Crookshollow had this reputation for being the most haunted village in England (apparently, over two hundred witches were burned during the height of the witch trials – a bit of a sobering thought considering who I lived with), which meant that the local tourist shops sold ghost-hunting equipment that was actually semi-decent. I wasn’t hunting ghosts, of course, but it would monitor fae and wormhole activity just as well.

  “Do you want help setting these up?” Flynn asked, pointing an EMF meter at Arthur and making a ‘woo woo’ noise.

  “No,” I grabbed the meter out of his hand. “I want you all to tell me what’s really going on.”

  Flynn glared at Corbin, who looked miserable. He leaned against the doorframe, as if he intended to make a quick escape. Rowan perched on the end of the sofa, his big, kind eyes following me as though he were in awe.

  Arthur moved toward the bar, but I held up a hand. “No drinks. This isn’t a celebration. I want the full story, right now. You guys haven’t been straight with me.”

  “We’ve been completely honest with you, Maeve,” Corbin said.

  “No, you haven’t.” I glared at Corwin, who stared at a spot just beyond my shoulder. “You said you recognize me because your lawyer sent you a picture. But that’s not true. When we spoke to Emily yesterday, she didn’t recognize me. And today, Blake spoke my name. He knows me. And…“ I paused, hoping I’d be able to talk about this without revealing exactly what happened. “He’s seen my dreams.”

  “What?” Corbin looked shocked. “That’s not… that doesn’t…”

  I folded my arms. “So I’m done with half truths and this ‘you’re not ready’ bollocks. I want the full story, unabridged, footnotes included. Go.”

  “What were these dreams about?” Corbin demanded.

  “I’m asking the questions here.”

  Arthur looked up, tucking a strand of long blond hair behind his ear. For a warrior, he looked almost sheepish. “Are these dreams about all of us in the Great Hall, um… together? You and me and Corbin and Rowan and that Irish git and… Blake?”

  My face flushed. “How… how do you know that?”

  “Because I’ve had the same dream, a co
uple of times actually.”

  Corbin stared at his friend. “And you never thought to mention it?”

  Arthur’s kind eyes flashed with annoyance. “I didn’t know anyone else was having it! I didn’t exactly think it was polite to tell our landlord I was dreaming about her being the center of a sixsome—”

  “How do we know it was the same dream, though?” Corbin said. “Maybe you’re just having similar feelings, because of the kiss and—”

  “In the last one, all the furniture was gone, and you were on a red-velvet couch, wearing a silky robe,” Arthur said to me, the tips of his own ears turning a little red. I nodded, my cheeks burning.

  This is not happening. But it was. Arthur continued. “We were parading around you, completely naked. Corbin tore the robe off, and I was the one who was—”

  “I’ve had the dreams, too.” Rowan said, his quiet voice strained. He stared at his hands, his fingers drumming a repetitive rhythm against his palm.

  My cheeks burned even brighter. How the hell was this possible? And why did it have to be those dreams Arthur and Rowan saw?

  “So why haven’t Flynn and I had these dreams?” Corbin demanded.

  “Actually…” Flynn lifted his hand. “I think I might’ve been in on that second one, with the… ah, parade? I thought it was just my filthy mind. I love you mate, but I’d prefer if you didn’t touch me bollix like that.”

  “So why haven’t I had any of these dreams, then?” Was it my imagination, or did Corbin sound a little jealous?

  “You were up late in the library,” I said. “I remember the light being on last time I woke up. I think we all have to be asleep at the same time. Blake seemed to believe they were my dreams and I pulled him into them, but how I did that I have no idea.”