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A Caress of Twilight mg-2

Page 25

by Laurell K. Hamilton


  I touched Sage's shoulder. He jumped as if it had hurt, but I knew that it hadn't. I leaned in against the back of his body. He tensed. "Is what the queen says true, Sage? Is your sword so small?" I looked at Niceven as I said it.

  She gave me angry eyes. "That is not what I meant and well you know it."

  "Do I?" I asked, running my fingertips down Sage's arm. He shivered under my touch. I watched jealousy flare across her face before she could catch it back. "Niceven, Niceven, do not give up to others what you hold most precious."

  Her face was angry, blank. "I don't know what you mean."

  I touched Sage's hair, and the hair was soft as spider silk, or downy feathers, softer than any hair I'd ever touched. "Never offer to give up that which you cannot afford to lose."

  She shook her head. "I don't understand you, Princess."

  "Be stubborn then, but know this. I offer you alliance, true alliance in exchange for a blood offering once a week. You cease to spy for Cel and his people."

  "Prince Cel may be locked away, Princess, but Siobhan is not, and she is more frightening to some than Cel will ever be."

  I noticed her phrasing. "More frightening to some, but not to you."

  Niceven bowed her head. "I find Cel's brand of madness more frightening than Siobhan's ruthlessness. You can plan around a ruthless man, but a madman throws all your plans to the wind."

  I nodded. "Your wisdom does you credit, Queen Niceven."

  "For a chance for one of my men to be King of all the Unseelie, I would have risked all, but for mere blood, I will have to think upon it."

  "No, an alliance now, or the queen will know of your ambition."

  Niceven gave me a look of pure venom.

  "I will do it, Niceven, do not mistake me on this. Alliance, or answer to Andais."

  "I have no choices left then," she said.

  "No," I said.

  "Alliance then, but I think both of us will regret it."

  "Perhaps," I said, "but now the cure for Galen and our business can be done for today."

  Niceven turned her attention to Sage. "Give the princess the cure, Sage."

  He frowned. "How, my queen, if I am not allowed to give it to her as you gave it to me?"

  "Though I gave it to thee through more intimate contact, it only needs your body to enter hers to be given."

  "No sex," I said.

  She gave me a long-suffering look. "A kiss, Meredith, a kiss and you are free to take no pleasure from it."

  I had to move to one side by Doyle so Sage could turn around. His wings seemed to fill all the space between the dresser and the bed. When Sage was turned around, I stepped back in front of him. His wings rose above his shoulders like the top of some golden bejeweled heart. His hair was only a shade more golden than the soft yellow of his skin. He looked almost unreal in his loveliness until you reached his eyes. Those glittering black eyes held not just anger, but malice. It made me remember that he was just a bigger version of the things that had taken bites out of Galen.

  "No biting, no bloodletting," I said.

  He laughed, flashing teeth that were a little too pointy for comfort. "Blunt negotiating for a sidhe princess."

  "I don't want you to have any room to say you misunderstood me, Sage. I want this to be very clear between us."

  Niceven spoke from the mirror. "He will not harm you, Princess.

  Sage turned his head to gaze over his shoulder at her. "A little blood is fine spice for a kiss," he said.

  "Perhaps to us, but you are to do exactly as the princess bids you. If she says no blood, then no blood."

  "Why should we heed a sidhe princess?" he asked.

  "You are not heeding the princess, Sage, you are heeding me." She gave him a look that leaked some of the malice from his eyes.

  His shoulders slumped a little, his wings flexing until they touched the dresser. "As my queen bids, so shall it be." He didn't sound happy about it.

  "My word that he will not harm you in this," Niceven said.

  I nodded. "I will take the queen's word."

  Sage turned to glare at me. "But not mine."

  "My word is your word," Niceven said, and her voice had fallen to a low hiss.

  The look on Sage's face was so unfriendly that I knew if Niceven saw it, she wouldn't have been happy. His back shielded her view, and for just an instant something traveled through his eyes that was almost sorrow, almost, dare I say, human. It was gone almost instantly, but that one brief glimpse gave me something to think about. Maybe Niceven's little court wasn't any happier than Andais's.

  I slid my hands on either side of Sage's face, not for romance, but to control him. His skin was like a baby's, so soft, unbelievably fine under my fingertips. I'd never touched a demi-fey this much, because there had never been enough of them to touch. I leaned toward him, and he just stood there, hands at his sides. He waited for me to complete the act.

  I turned my head slightly to the side and hesitated, my mouth hovering just above his. The lips looked redder than they should have. I wondered if they would feel different, like the texture of his skin, then my lips brushed his, and I had my answer. They were just lips but soft, soft like silk, satin, rich like tasting some ripe fruit.

  It was interesting, but there was no magic to it. I leaned back from him, hands still on his face. I looked at Niceven in the mirror. "There was no spell, no cure."

  "Did his body enter yours?" she asked.

  "You mean tongue?"

  "That is what I mean, since you seem so determined to have nothing else."

  "No," I said.

  "Kiss her, Sage, kiss her like you mean it, then this can all be done."

  He gave a heavy sigh, his body moving under my hands. "As my queen bids."

  His hands slid around my body, pulling me against him. We were too close for my hands on his face, but as my hands slid down his back, I found wings and didn't know where to hold on.

  "Underneath where the wings attach to my back," he said, as if he understood the problem. Maybe he'd had the problem before with other non-demi-fey.

  I moved my arms under his, sliding them along his back to where the wings attached to his body. His back felt normal other than the extra softness of the skin. Shouldn't he have had extra muscles under there to flex the wings?

  His hands kneaded my back as he brought his face close, closer. We kissed, and this time he kissed me back, gentle at first, then his arms convulsed around my body and he thrust himself inside my mouth. It was as if his tongue, his mouth, were heat. Heat to fill my mouth, heat to spill down my throat, heat like a stream flowing through my body, spilling out, out to my fingertips, my toes, until I was full of it, until my skin ran hot with it.

  It was Niceven's voice that brought me back. "You have your cure, Princess. Give it to your green knight before it cools."

  Sage and I pulled away from each other, bodies reluctant to part. Our hands slid down each other's arms as I turned from him to find Galen. Galen had moved up closer to us.

  I went to him, slid my hot, hot hands over his arms, and even through the sleeves of his shirt I could feel his skin, feel the heat gliding over him. His breathing was fast and hard by the time he bent down to receive his kiss.

  Our lips touched and it was as if the heat were hungry for him. Our lips sealed together, so that no drop of heat would be lost. Lips, tongue, even teeth fed at each other's mouths. The heat filled my mouth almost like liquid. I could feel the warm, sweet thickness of it like warm honey, warm syrup that filled my mouth and spilled into Galen. He drank at my mouth, drank the magic down.

  He drew the heat out of me, pulled the magic from me with his mouth and his hands and his body. The magical heat fed on heat of a different kind, and with a small cry I climbed his body to wrap my legs around his waist. He cried out when my body touched his groin, and it wasn't pleasure.

  He set me down quickly, not quite pushing me away. In a breathless voice, he said, "I don't feel healed."

  "Y
ou will be healed two days hence by nightfall, or earlier," Niceven said.

  I was still standing, half swaying, breath coming in ragged gasps. I could barely hear over the pounding of my own pulse in my ears. So it was left to Doyle to be sensible. "I want your word, Queen Niceven, that Galen will be healed two days from now."

  "You have it," she said.

  He nodded. "We thank you."

  "Don't thank me, Darkness, don't thank me." Then she was gone, the mirror just a mirror once again.

  Galen sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. He was still gasping, struggling to breathe, but he smiled up at me. "In two days."

  I tried to touch his face, but my hand was shaking so badly I missed. He grabbed my hand and put it against his cheek. "Two days," I said.

  He nodded, still smiling, my hand still pressed against his face. But I couldn't smile back at him; I could see Frost's face. Arrogant, angry, jealous. He seemed to notice me noticing him, and looked away. He hid his face because I don't think he could control his expression. Frost was jealous of Galen. It was not a good sign.

  Chapter 31

  That night was Frost's night, and he seemed determined to make me forget everyone else. I was licking down his stomach when Andais's voice came like an evil dream out of the empty mirror. "I will not be blocked from the sight I wish to see, not by my own Darkness. You have one minute, then I will clear my own way."

  We froze, then rolled to our feet, got tangled in the sheets, and nearly fell. Frost said, "My Queen, Doyle is not here. We will fetch him for you, if you but wait."

  She made a low sound, almost a growl. "My patience is low tonight, my Killing Frost. I will give you two minutes to find him and free this mirror, or I will do it for you."

  "We will make haste, my Queen."

  I was already in the doorway. "Doyle, the queen on the mirror, now. She wants to see you." My voice must have carried the urgency I was feeling, because Doyle rolled off the couch, shirtless, wearing just his jeans. He was inside the bedroom, one hand outstretched, as Frost pleaded for just one more minute.

  I climbed on the bed as the fastest way to make room for both of the men to stand in front of the mirror. Doyle touched the side of the mirror, and the glass flashed once with light, then cleared. Then there was something in the mirror. I couldn't see much of it around the two broad backs of the men, and what I could see made me half-glad my view was obstructed.

  There was torchlight flickering, dark stone walls, and soft, hopeless moaning, as if whoever was making the sound had gone beyond the need to scream, beyond words, beyond anything but that utterly hopeless moaning. When I was little I'd always thought that the wailing of ghosts must be like the sounds in the Hallway of Mortality. Strangely, ghosts don't make noises like that. Or at least none that I've ever met.

  "How dare you lock me out, Doyle, how dare you!"

  "I asked Doyle to block the viewing on the mirror," I said, speaking to the backs of both of the men.

  "I hear our little princess, but I do not see her. If we are going to fight, then I wish to see her face-to-face." Her voice held anger like a cup filled to the brim with something hot and scalding.

  The men parted so that I was suddenly visible, kneeling on the bed, in the tangle of sheets and pillows. Andais was suddenly visible, as well. She was standing in the middle of the Hallway of Mortality, where I'd known she was. The viewing mirror in the torture area was set so that you couldn't see any of the devices, but Andais had made sure that she was horrible enough.

  She was covered in blood as if someone had thrown a bucket of it over her. Her face was speckled with little drying bits, and one side of her hair was caked with blood and thicker things. It took a minute of staring to realize that she was gore soaked and wore nothing else. She was actually so covered in blood and bits that I hadn't realized she was nude at first.

  I took air in through my nose, out through my mouth for a few breaths while Doyle filled the silence.

  "We have had many callers, my Queen. The princess grew tired of being caught unprepared for visitors."

  "Who else has been calling you, niece?"

  I swallowed hard, let out the breath I'd been half holding, and my voice came out just fine, not a tremble. Good for me. "Taranis's secretaries mostly."

  "What does he want?" She nearly spit the word he.

  "I was invited to the Yule ball, but declined." I added the last hastily. I did not want her to think I'd snub her court.

  "How terribly high-handed, and how terribly typical of Taranis."

  "If one may be so bold, my Queen," Doyle said softly, "you are in an exceptional mood, despite the fact that you have obviously been indulging yourself heartily. What has so displeased you?"

  Doyle was right. I'd seen Andais come back from a torture session humming, covered in gore and humming. She should have been having a very good time by her standards, but she wasn't.

  "I have taken those who I deemed capable of either releasing the Nameless or calling the old ones. I have questioned them all most thoroughly. If any of them had done these things, they would have talked by now." She sounded tired, the anger beginning to leak away.

  "I am sure, my Queen, that you have been most thorough," Doyle said.

  She looked at him, and it was a hard look. "Are you making fun of me?"

  Doyle bowed as far as the mirror would allow. "Never, my Queen."

  She rubbed her hand across her forehead, smearing blood across her white skin. "No sidhe in our court did this, my Darkness."

  "Then who, if not our people?" Doyle asked. He did not rise from his bow.

  "We are not the only sidhe, Doyle."

  "You mean Taranis's court," Frost said.

  Her eyes flicked to him, and they narrowed in a very unfriendly manner. "Yes, that's what I mean."

  Frost bowed, mirroring Doyle. "I meant no disrespect, Your Majesty."

  Doyle said, from his awkward position, "Have you informed the king of his peril?"

  "He refuses to believe that anyone in his beautiful shining court could do such a thing. He says that none of his people would know how to raise the old dead gods, and that none would touch the Nameless, for it has nothing to do with them. The Nameless is an Unseelie problem, and the old gods are ghosts, and that is an Unseelie problem, as well."

  "What exactly would be a Seelie problem?" I asked. I almost hated to have her attention back on me, but I wanted to know. If none of this was Seelie business, then what exactly was their business?

  "That, niece, is an excellent question. Of late, Taranis seems unwilling to dirty his hands with anything of importance. I don't know what's wrong with him, but he seems to be living more and more in his own little dream haven, built of pretty illusions and his own magic." She crossed her stained arms, looking thoughtful. "It has to be one of his court. It has to be."

  "What can we do to get him to see that?" I asked.

  "I don't know. I wish I did." She waved her hands. "Oh, for pity's sake, get up, both of you. Go sit on the bed. Look comfortable."

  Frost and Doyle stood and came to sit, one on either side of me. Frost was still nude, but his lovely body was no longer at the excited pitch it had been before the queen called. He sat with his hands in his lap, half hiding himself. Doyle sat on the other side of me, very still, like a prey animal trying not to draw the eye of the predator. I didn't often think of Doyle as a prey animal -- he was so assuredly a predator -- but tonight, the only predator was staring at us from the mirror.

  "Move your hands, Frost. Let me see all of you."

  Frost hesitated, the briefest of seconds, and then let his hands drop away to either side of his lap. He sat there nude, eyes downcast, no longer comfortable in his nudity.

  "You are truly beautiful, Frost. I had forgotten that." She frowned. "I seem to be forgetting a lot of things lately." She sounded almost sad; then her voice became brisk again, hers again. Just the tone made all three of us stiffen, almost shiver, and it was a shiver of anticipation, but
not of pleasure.

  "I have not enjoyed myself this day. These were people whom I respected, or liked, or valued, and now they will never again be my allies. They will fear me, but they feared me before, and fear is not truly the same as respect. I'm learning that, at last. Give me something pleasant to remember this night by. Let me watch the three of you together. Let me see the lights from your skin brighten the night like fireworks."

  The three of us sat there for a second, then Doyle said, "I have had my night with the princess. Frost has made it clear that he does not wish to share her tonight."

  "He will share if I say that he will share," Andais said. It was hard to argue with her, blood soaked and nude, looking like some terrible primal things but we tried.

  "I would ask that Your Majesty not do this," Frost said. He wasn't looking arrogant. He was looking almost frightened.

  "You would ask? You would ask? What is it you are asking of me?"

  "Nothing," he said, head hanging so that the shine of his hair hid his face. "Absolutely nothing." He sounded bitter and sorrowful when he said it.

  "Aunt Andais," I said, keeping my voice level, soft, like I was trying to talk a crazy person out of setting off the bomb strapped to her body. "Please, we have done nothing to displease you. We have done everything we can to please you. Why would you punish us for that?"

  "Were you going to have sex tonight?"

  "Yes, but -- "

  "You are going to fuck Frost tonight, are you not?"

  "Yes."

  "You fucked Doyle last night, correct?"

  "Well, yes, but-"

  "Then what difference does it make if you fuck them both right now, tonight?" Her voice was rising again, losing its calm edge.

  My voice went lower, more even as hers began to unravel. " I have not been with both of them at once before, Your Majesty, and a menage a trois must be done carefully or you spoil the game. I think that Doyle and Frost are both too dominant to share me comfortably."

  She nodded. "Very well."

  I think we all relaxed, let a breath out.

  "Then replace one of them with one of the others. Give me a show, niece of mine, give me something to enjoy this night."

 

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