Sweet Ruin

by Kresley Cole

  She started to go intangible.

  "No, Josie. Use your telekinesis." He'd been encouraging her to practice.

  She nodded, aiming her hand at the boat. Her brows drew together as she lifted it, directing it closer. Off by a ways, she levitated to snag it in the air. But at least she hadn't destroyed it outright. She ripped free a note affixed to the mast.

  She no longer acted as if she could read, just handed over the missive.

  In one week, she'd learned much of the runic language; she would pick up reading English so quickly. He tore open the envelope, finding a crisp invitation card. Once all this was over, when he had her settled in Tortua, he'd teach her. For now, he read aloud:

  YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED TO ATTEND THE 2915TH ANNUAL TITANIA COURT BALL 10:00 ON THE EVE OF THE PINK MOON

  "What's Titania?" she asked.

  "A fey kingdom." The pink moon was this month's full moon. He gazed up at the sky. The ball would be tonight. With the time difference, they had roughly eight hours till it started.

  Josephine canted her head. "Okay, so what's this ball thingy?"

  He crumpled the invitation. "A trap."

  Rune stood by the fire in Tortua, gazing at the flames. He'd dressed in his formal attire for the ball thingy, was only awaiting Josephine.

  He wanted to leave her safely behind, but her vow compelled him to keep her close. So he'd debated not going. Titania was a staunch ally of Sylvan, and he wagered Nix would never show.

  In fact, he believed the soothsayer had planned these twelve days to lead up to this ball--as a favor to King Saetthan.

  Yet Rune's duty to the Morior demanded he attend, which meant Josephine would too. She was eager for it, though he'd explained everything they'd be up against.

  Namely Saetthan's bounty hunters. Rune expected at least a hundred of them.

  Despite their similar ages, Saetthan would never fight Rune one on one. As a full fey, Saetthan was faster; Rune's demon half made him stronger. It'd be a good fight if Saetthan had enough mettle to face him.

  The king refused, even though he'd deemed it his sacred duty to protect his kinsmen. They all considered Rune a monster, a bogeyman who preyed on their innocent family members.

  Bogeyman? Yes.

  Innocence? He'd yet to find it in Magh's line. . . .

  After he and Josephine had left Venice, he'd taken her shopping for a gown. He'd told her money was no object, that they could go anywhere in the universe.

  Just to be contrary, she'd taken them to secondhand stores off bloody Canal Street in New Orleans.

  He'd paced while she tried on garments, never allowing him a glimpse of what she might wear.

  Outside one dressing room, he'd murmured, "Fey nobility wear obscenely expensive materials. Females favor pale colors and gauzy fabrics. Perhaps you should as well."

  "Uh-huh," she'd said, clearly ignoring his suggestions.

  Rune didn't want her to stand out any more than necessary, else she'd feel distressed. "Though we're likely stepping into an ambush, we should at least try to enjoy ourselves."

  He already had plans for Josephine tonight--seducing her fully--so he'd made preparations. Barring an attack, the setup was ideal. Females went crazy for balls. He and Josephine would drink a little, dance a little, and she'd be his.

  Barring his death, he was going to be inside her.

  Yet his plans wouldn't work if she was miserable. She was a woman. A young woman. Weren't they overly sensitive about things like standing out?

  "Gauzy, huh?" she'd said from that dressing room. "Like fairy-airy?" Then she'd peeked out past the curtain and whispered, "You know I'm probably not fey nobility, right?"

  "Smartass."

  "But I'm gonna need something from you. To put my whole ensemble together."

  Ensemble. He'd inwardly cringed. Not just one inappropriate garment or accessory. "And what would that be?" He'd expected her to ask for jewels.

  She'd cryptically answered, "Your blood in a glass. . . ."

  Now she called from his room, "I'm coming out. Warning: I look wicked hot."

  "Come on, then," he said, tone resigned. "Don't keep me in suspense any longer."

  She stepped out. His feet shuffled to keep him from keeling over.

  "You . . . you're . . ." Vampiress. Phantom. Somehow she'd complemented both sides.

  She wore an unadorned strapless gown of jet-black satin that accentuated her seductive vampire curves. Her generous breasts were pushed up above the tight bodice.

  The material was so smooth it reflected light, playing up her translucent skin and high, graceful cheekbones. The shadows framing her luminous eyes were darker, highlighting their unique hazel color.

  She'd piled her silken hair atop her head, baring her be-ringed ears and her delicate neck.

  Around her throat . . .

  He swallowed. She'd used his blood to draw a choker, with her own tiny inlaid runes.

  "Do you like the design? I had to cut out a stencil with my claw. Don't try that at home. It's got the runes for luck and victory."

  She's painted with my ink. Possession. My halfling female wears blood runes of her own.

  No force in the worlds could stop Rune from taking her tonight.

  FORTY-EIGHT

  You look okay, I guess," Jo told Rune, though she'd barely recovered from her first glimpse of him in formal fey-wear: fitted fawn pants, black boots, and a tailored coat of some unusual cream-colored material that molded over his muscles.

  He was long, lean, and elegant, but with that hard-core layer underneath the polish.

  When she could drag her eyes off his obvious wood, she noticed other details. His hair was tied back, revealing the shaved sides of his head and his fey ears. Black was forking out all over his eyes as he stared at her. "You . . . just . . ."

  "Rune, I did warn you. Get yourself together, man."

  His gaze met hers. His lips curled into his slanted grin, and she sighed.

  "Ah, Josephine, you're one to talk. I knew I was wearing you down."

  "Whatever, old-timer." She wished she could deny that more convincingly, but he was.

  "This is the first time I've seen you without your bullet necklace."

  "I don't need to wear it anymore." It'd served its purpose.

  "Just so." He donned his bow and strapped on his quiver, both of which turned invisible. "If we survive tonight's ball, I'll take you somewhere you've never been. A favorite place of mine. We'll drink wine, and you can stargaze to your heart's content."

  Stargaze? With another person? "I'd love that! Even more incentive to survive."

  He offered his elbow. "Come."

  She took it, and an instant later they arrived in a moonlit garden. "Where are we?"

  "Titania. I can't have everyone seeing my mode of travel, so I traced off-site. The palace is just ahead." He pointed out a castle not far in the distance.

  The structure looked like something from a fairy tale, aglow in the night, with towering spires and snapping flags. One entire wing was made of glass, its facets sparkling like diamonds. Strains of orchestral music reached them, and exotic flowers scented the warm air.

  Arm in arm, they started forward. Closer to the castle the walk grew more crowded with formally attired Loreans of all species. Back into the Lore I go. . . .

  He escorted her up a set of stairs to the torchlit entrance. Liveried demons manned the doors. Their polished horns shone in the firelight as they bowed to arriving guests.

  Rune handed one his invitation, then ushered her to a landing overlooking the event.

  She gasped at the sight. The ballroom was as large as an auditorium and made completely of glass. Huge chandeliers dangled from a soaring dome. The center of the transparent ceiling framed the moon above. The walls had been frosted to resemble leafy woodlands, glaciers, flames, and oceans.

  Below, a gleaming glass dance floor was already packed with immortals. In the background, musicians played.

  She was here at a
ball--without the comforting security of a shell. Yes, this was real life, and yes, she was truly living, but she felt naked. The tall, graceful females below all wore gowns in soft colors--a sea of blue pastel, dotted with pinks and seafoam green. "I stand out like blood in water."

  "All the more with that choker." He'd gazed at her neck so often, she could swear he was the vampire. "Are you uncomfortable?"

  "If I were a guy and I had to choose one girl here, I'd pick me hands down. But you yammered on about the fey style so much, maybe you like that better." She tapped her chin. "Rune, maybe you are an idiot."

  "If you couldn't tell by my speechless reaction earlier, you nearly put me to my knees. You're easily the sexiest female here. And you're with me alone."

  "I'm more used to being inside a shell for gigs like this."

  "You're welcome inside me." Over the last two weeks, he'd concealed her in his body a couple of times.

  "And if I get too excited and embody?" She still had trouble controlling her ghost-mode.

  "Then you'll have to remain by my side, where I can show you off." He led her to a grand staircase.

  "Are these things always so popular?"

  He nodded. "Especially during an Accession."

  Had these Loreans attended to find their mates? Or their foes? "So ballpark this for me. How many here have you slept with?"

  "I don't think you want to know that. But I'll tell you I want to sleep with only one here."

  Awww. He was good.

  As they descended the steps, he said, "You're attracting even more admirers than I am."

  She'd noticed guys whipping their heads around to check her out, females too. "Good thing you never get jealous."

  He raised his brows. "Shall we dance?"

  "I thought we were here to fight." She nibbled her bottom lip. "And I can't dance."

  "I'll lead. Just go with it, love."

  She froze. "You called me 'love.' "

  "Nonsense. I called you 'dove.' "

  She squared her shoulders. "Bullshit. You said 'love.' "

  "I've told you dark fey aren't capable of that, but imagine whatever you like, dove."

  "If we were in my motel room, I'd tell you to fuck off until you slammed me into a wall."

  "I recall that night often." He ran a hand over his mouth. "In lieu of that, we could ballroom dance."

  "Same diff, I guess."

  He took her in his arms and swept her onto the floor. At first Jo was awkward, but as soon as she let him lead, a miracle happened. "Look at me! I'm a wicked good dancer. You're passable too."

  His lips curled. "You're wicked good at everything." Then he grew serious. "Do you know how proud I am of your runes?" His gaze was so solemn.

  How could she resist him when he was like this? When the entire experience was like a dream?

  I'm falling headlong. . . .

  So many things reminded Jo of that grand wedding she'd crashed. She felt like a bride in her elegant gown. The music wasn't too dissimilar. The dancing seemed about the same.

  She peered up at Rune. He's my guy. My groom. When his eyes held hers, she didn't bother hiding what she was feeling.

  Adoration.

  The message must've been received, because he gave her a nod, then swallowed, as if with nervousness. Yeah, this is the real deal, Rune. And she suspected he was falling right beside her.

  As he twirled her around the floor, she gave herself up to the night. Trusting him, she leaned her head back and simply felt.

  Giddiness. Dizziness. Joy. She almost ghosted from pleasure. She was living a fairy tale; she never wanted it to end--

  "I'm about to get blitzed." His torso muscles tightened under her palm.

  Jo raised her head. "Like trashed?"

  He murmured, "No, rushed." He scanned the crowd. "Fifty swordsmen are about to descend on me."

  FORTY-NINE

  The imminent attack puzzled Rune.

  If Saetthan had dispatched these bounty hunters, then why not hire twice the number?

  Rune concluded they were all fey, but probably not ex-military. Carrying short swords, they displayed neither the martial showiness of Sylvan soldiers nor the distinctive longswords of the Titanians. They wielded no Draiksulian bows.

  Perhaps these males might give him a challenge. Perhaps that was why there weren't more.

  "Josephine, I want you to stand over there by the wall and become intangible." He wished he could send her away completely.

  She laughed. "Forget it. I'm fighting too."

  "If you give me room, I'll return to you within minutes." Nearby guests made outraged sounds as hunters elbowed their way toward the dance floor. The orchestra went quiet, one instrument at a time. A hush fell over the ballroom. The wiser attendees dispersed.

  One sword-bearing male stepped onto the floor, then another, and another. Each was focused on Rune.

  His only trepidation was due to the female at his side. "If you're vulnerable, my thoughts will be divided." He unstrapped his bow.

  "I can use telekinesis while I ghost."

  "Can you focus it enough to pick out my foes alone? I mean this. Trust me, Josie. Let me show you what I do."

  She hesitated. "If you get killed, I will kick your ass so hard."

  Though Jo dutifully moved to the wall and ghosted, her nerves made her outline flicker, so she remained visible in flashes.

  She was a wallflower who wanted to be out on that ballroom floor--so she could fight.

  Everyone had fled the area, except for a few idiot spectators peeking out from doorways and balconies, scandalized by the promise of a clash.

  Bounty hunters advanced on Rune, surrounding him. How could she not fight for him? They kept coming, their circle tightening.

  One gave a battle yell. Heart in her throat, she watched them charge.

  Utterly calm, Rune strung five red arrows--poisoned ones. He turned his bow horizontal and let them fly. The arrows fanned out in the air, drilling through the first line of men, then the second--then the third.

  Fifteen men down! They moaned on the ground, dying from Rune's agonizing poison.

  He nocked five more arrows, repeating the shot. At least a dozen dropped.

  Like a blur, he swept through the fallen, collecting arrows from the last wave of bodies. As he refilled his quiver, he kept one arrow in hand to stab necks, wasting even more swordsmen.

  He was faster than blood splatter, dodging jugular sprays. Compared to Rune, his attackers seemed to be moving in slo-mo. They plodded and slipped on the bloody glass.

  She'd seen him in action, but never like this. Never against so many opponents.

  With his quiver full, he vaulted to a balcony. Three couples were hiding there. Though Rune gave them only a passing glance, the males gazed at him with terror. The females sighed over him, about to swoon with desire. One reached for a meager touch of his leg.

  Rune's next round of arrows flew in a curving trajectory. He'd arced them to make impossible strikes, then leapt down for another arrow harvest. Not a drop of blood marked him.

  Her worry faded. On occasion, he'd spoken of his fey and demon halves, one more methodical, one more aggressive. The methodical fey was at the fore as Rune coldly and efficiently destroyed the threat. Only a few were left standing.

  He was magnificent. And he knew it. In the middle of a kill, he turned to take in her breathless, awed reaction.

  The cocky dark fey winked at her.

  She'd never wanted him more.

  Once he finished taking out this trash, she'd kiss those smirking lips and nip the bottom one till he groaned. When they were alone, she'd strip, revealing the lingerie she'd bought today.

  And if she let him have her tonight? He'd told her he would take pains to get her ready. She imagined him petting her with those amazing fingers until she was wet and aching, then he'd work his big shaft inside her. When he entered her to the hilt, would his kiss steal her cry?

  As she fantasized about his ripped body thrusti
ng and moving over her, she started to pant. Her heartbeat quickened. That's my guy. She needed him desperately.

  Tonight. Tonight she was going to surrender--

  Steel kissed her throat.

  FIFTY

  A soft gasp.

  Rune whipped his head around. He'd defeated all the swordsmen who'd engaged him, but one had sneaked in to target Josephine.

  Gods damn it! Why had she embodied?

  The male yanked her back to him, a knife against her fragile neck.

  This was why Morior had no mates--because Orion allowed no vulnerabilities. Rune couldn't have a more glaring one than his need for Josephine.

  When the blade nicked her tender skin, he all but lost his mind. He bared his demon fangs, yearning to maul that male, to savage him with poisonous claws.

  Blood slipped down her throat. Black blood.

  From drinking his. A thought arose that he couldn't even acknowledge.

  Despite the danger, she wasn't afraid. Her irises darkened and the shadows around her eyes deepened--a predator signaling her threat.

  In his panic for her, Rune had forgotten that she was no mere female. She was a force. She was death and death rolled into one, and she looked like she could barely wait to strike.

  Rune told the man, "Release her. Or die a nightmare death. I'll warn you once."

  Movement on a balcony. He whipped his head up.

  Saetthan.

  Rune's half brother strolled out, clad in formal attire with their father's sword drawn. A pair of royal guards flanked him. "What a mess you've made, baneblood." He regarded all the bodies with an amused expression that resembled Rune's own.

  "I thought you were behind this," Rune said. "Ill-planned and ineffectual is your signature."

  Like a dragon twitching its tail, Saetthan twirled that sword.

  Rune expected more guards to file out on the balcony, yet none came, leaving only the two. He never got opportunities to strike his half sibling this unprotected. "Next time I hope you'll send me a real challenge," he called. "Are funds tight in Sylvan?"

  "I didn't need an army to take you down. I only needed to distract you--while I collected your mate. My spies told me you'd found yours, but I scarcely believed an abomination like you got a fated female."

  Rune's hand dipped to his quiver. He'd wanted a fair fight; Saetthan had targeted his woman. All bets were off.

  His fingertips brushed the flights of one-and-done. He'd string it among four poison arrows. Those would hit lower; the guards would dive and take them leaving Saetthan to contend with Rune's most precisely lethal arrow.