by Patti Larsen
Piers smiled down at me, tight in my space, the scent of him filling my world.
“Nice to see you finally pushing your weight around,” he said. “Though I really am getting sick of you rescuing me.”
My lips quirked. “It's a curse,” I said.
Piers laughed even as my eyes drifted over his shoulder. Landed on a darkly scowling face.
Quaid glared while my tall companion turned and noted the angry Enforcer watching.
His gray eyes returned to me, narrowed in understanding. “I see,” he said. “So this is the one you pine for, Sydlynn Hayle.”
I swatted his arm, temper piqued. “Piss off, Southway,” I said.
Piers bent and kissed me. Not a quick peck, either. Slow. Lingering.
And damn it if I didn't kiss him back.
While Quaid watched.
Was it wrong an evil little part of me enjoyed the fact Quaid was forced to stand there and see what he was missing?
I was going to hell.
“You could do so much better.” Piers breathed into my mouth as he pulled away, languid, my body tingling from the contact. My demon sighed, torn between the handsome man before us and the one she really longed for, still staring, only a half a tent away.
Piers waved a jaunty salute to me before bowing deeply and spinning, his longcoat swirling around him as he strode off. Whistling.
I met Quaid's stormy gaze, emotions hardened against him.
Turned my back and walked into my tent before my traitor heart could force me to run back outside and beg him to change his mind.
***
Chapter Sixteen
My foul humor lingered long past dusk, only the tingling touch of vampire magic shaking me loose from my bad mood. Shenka was smart enough to keep her distance, the twins and Sassafras out and about doing who knew what. So when I felt my undead family arrive and rushed to greet them, my second trailed after me.
“Syd.” I stopped at the sound of her voice. Turned and met her knowing smile as she poked me with magic. “Smiling is usually a great way to show other people you're not going to tear them in half and feed them to your demon.”
I wanted to be angry, to stay inside my little shell of pissed off, but something about the tone of Shenka's voice, the tickling way her magic prodded me, shattered the hold my temper had over me all afternoon. I hooked my arm through hers with a regretful little smile.
“Sorry,” I said. “Guys suck. Did you know that about them?”
She feigned innocence, one hand pressed to her heart in shock. “I had no idea.”
I loved my second.
It didn't take much effort to find the vampires. Not because I felt them through our undead connection, which I did. But because of the gathering crowd whispering and gaping at the stunningly gorgeous pair standing next to the main pavilion.
I had to jab ribs to push my way through, though most of the witches who fought me only did so until they realized who I was. Funny to see their irritation—anger even—turn to a pulse of fear.
What did they think I'd do to them?
At least my reputation cleared a path for me so I was able to join Uncle Frank and Sunny without being forced to ride the veil a few feet. I knew Ahbi wouldn't mind or anything, but I wanted the royal vampire couple's arrival to carry more weight than me popping out of a slice of amber fire, ruining their moment.
As it was, I could hardly contain myself as I approached Sunny. Sure, I'd seen her just a week ago. We had dinner at Castle Wilhelm despite Margaret Applegate's almost continual interruptions. But no matter how often I saw the lovely queen and her consort, they were still my uncle and his girlfriend—regardless of their current married status—who practically raised me and used to live in my basement.
I tried for regal and all that proper garbage, but Sunny wasn't interested. She hugged me before I could make a fool of myself trying to curtsy, kissing my cheek with her warm lips.
She'd eaten before coming to join us. Awesome. Not that she'd have the bad taste to snack on anyone present, considering it was illegal. Besides, Sunny was too classy for random snacking. But this way she would feel less threatening to the witches, her spirit magic calm and in balance.
“Syd.” Sunny's stunning smile always cheered me up.
“Hey, Sunny.” I turned to her companion who swept me into a big hug.“Hi, Uncle Frank.”
He grinned down at me, boyish handsomeness all the more attractive thanks to his vampireness. Yes, I was his niece. But he was still a hottie.
Mom appeared as if by magic—imagine that, no pun intended—and the greetings continued. I left her to introduce the vampires to various dignitaries, dodging Mom's hand gesture urging me to join her.
Uh-huh. No way.
I was so out of there.
Almost made it. Only to feel a rush of Sidhe power in the distance, the only warning I had the Gate had opened, just before a rippling wall of green fire appeared to the gasps of the gathered crowd.
And Aoilainn, Queen of the Seelie, rode through on her big, white horse.
She and I had our issues. Shaylee's mom was a bit of a self-centered bitch, truth be told. And had tried to steal my Sidhe ego from me once. Still, I had to admit she was stunningly impressive with long, white-blonde hair hanging to the ground despite her height on the horse, thick ringlets curved to perfection, laced through with tiny braids and sparkling with beads of gemstones like dew.
The witches parted for her as she rode, face impassive, green eyes glittering, into the center of the main pavilion. I grinned at Prince Thalion as he leaped from his own horse, eyes meeting mine a moment in greeting, before assisting his queen from the saddle.
There was a time Thalion and I were enemies. His pining love for Shaylee made him try to trick me into staying in the Sidhe realm. But he’d since come to his senses after I freed his people from the Brotherhood and he’d seen, for the first time, just how cruel and self-centered his queen could be.
All eyes turned as two giant black horses, snorting fire and pawing the ground with feathered, dinner-plate feet trotted through the wall of Sidhe power, pulling an elaborate black lacquered chariot. They thought Aoilainn and her Seelie were impressive. My grin widened at the sight of Odhran and Niamh in flowing robes of deepest ebony, standing at the reins. The Unseelie ruling pair waved at me, Odhran nodding his head while Niamh blew me a kiss.
Mom had her hands full, yup yup.
Thankfully, Sunny and Uncle Frank were kind enough to stop and wait for Mom to greet her new guests. I held my breath as Aoilainn, her tall, slender body towering over my mother's, locked gazes with Mom in this plane for the first time.
This could go two ways: not a disaster or the collapse of the known Universe. After all, Mom didn't appreciate how the Seelie Queen treated me. But she was a diplomat, a politician. I trusted my mother to keep her crap together.
“High Council Leader Hayle,” Aoilainn said in her voice of music and sunshine.
“Your Royal Majesty,” Mom said without a hint of temper.
Aoilainn looked around, spotted me. “My darling Shaylee.”
Grrr.
“Mother.” Shaylee spoke through my mouth before I could stop her. “Please address Sydlynn as is polite.”
Oh, she did not just zing her own mother in front of everyone?
The Seelie queen's sharp green gaze tightened just a fraction. But she didn't have time to freak out and go all high and mighty Fey on my ass. Not when Odhran and Niamh descended from their incredible ride and came to bow their heads to Mom.
“Council Leader,” the Unseelie queen said. “It is a great honor to finally meet the mother of Sydlynn Hayle.”
Blush.
Mom dipped into a flawless curtsy, the implications of her honoring the Unseelie as clear to me as any spoken insult. Niamh laughed out loud, leather body suit creaking, spiked black hair shining with sparks of green light, and bent from her own height. A head taller than Mom, she gripped my mother's face between her lon
g, slender hands sheathed in fingerless lace gloves and countless silver rings before kissing Mom's cheeks with her black-painted lips.
“Delightful,” she said.
“The pleasure is all mine, Your Royal Majesties,” Mom said with the faintest trace of humor in her words.
Thalion actually cracked a smile at me as a long line of Fey continued to exit the wall of green flame. Seelie and Unseelie marched through, twice as many as the weres and sorcerers, though I imagined Mom’s negotiations with Aoilainn included her allotment be separate from the dark Fey. The willow-like forms of the Seelie court appeared as lusciously beautiful as they were heartless, just as nature herself. The Unseelie, in their imperfection, felt more real to me, and I found myself smiling and nodding to many of the creatures, shapes and oddities, some of whom I'd already met in my past two visits to the Sidhe realm.
“Your invitation was most gracious,” Odhran said, voice booming like an earthquake, the ground beneath my feet trembling under his presence as he swung to look around, heavy leather coat sweeping over the ground. “And your permission granted so we might join you on this plane once again, however temporarily, was kindly given.”
Mom curtsied again, though when she straightened, it was clear to me her gesture was only a courtesy. What she had to say next confirmed it. “You are welcome here,” she said. “For as long as you and your folk abide the rules of this conclave.” Mom had turned as she spoke, meeting Aoilainn's eyes.
The Seelie Queen didn't acknowledge a word Mom said, instead wrinkling her nose at the gathered, staring crowd.
“I assume I will be offered suitable accommodations.”
I had accommodations for her, all right. Stuffed in the darkest, nastiest hole I could find—
Shaylee. I had to snap at her to break her hold on me.
Sorry, she sent, still irritated. That Fey gives me hives.
While I'd had my own problems with my mother in the past, they were nothing compared to Shaylee's with Aoilainn. So I let it go. Because, frankly, I agreed with her and had to be content my Sidhe princess had grown up as much as me.
Not to be outdone, the moment the center of the pavilion cleared, Thalion leading the two horses away with a soft word to them, I felt Ahbi's power surge just as the veil tore open.
Oh. My. Swearword. Did it tear. The largest hole I'd ever seen, gaping so wide I could have driven a train through the gap and had tons of room to spare.
The view on the other side even made me gasp, impressed, and I’d seen it before from a variety of angles. The veil opened onto the Parade, filled with rank upon rank of demon Guards, two large thrones set to the right side of the opening. On the smaller sat my sister, looking all regal and together with her hair in a fancy rope-like style tied in intricate knots around her head and draping over one shoulder, her shining black dress beaded with a million star-like jewels.
Oh, hello, envy. Nice of you to show up.
But it was the occupant of the other who held my attention, mostly because of Mom.
Dad sat rigid, sheathed in heavy robes, the power of Demonicon crackling around him. Meira stood and bowed her head to him, holding his hand a moment as Dad rose to join her. He approached the gap, but didn't cross as Meira waited, a line of demons crossing, each dressed as elaborately as she, massive, red-tinted bodies crowned in impressive horns polished to a shine, their amber eyes glowing with fire.
Twenty demons came to a halt, flanking the opening, waiting for my sister to cross.
“Council Leader.” Dad's voice rippled across the veil.
“Ruler,” Mom said, chin up, back straight, voice firm.
And that was it. No expression of lost love, no mad dash to hug each other. Just ceremony and stiff formality.
Broke. My. Heart.
“Our daughter, Princess Meira of the First Plane, speaks for the Seat in this conclave.” He turned to my sister, releasing her hand. “Have fun, honey,” he said.
Ah. There was my dad. And no way was I letting him get away without a hug from me. Screw the pomp and circumstance.
I pushed my way forward again, much easier this time, bowing to Dad before stepping over the veil. Ahbi's power embraced me as Dad bent and kissed my cheek.
“Love you,” he whispered.
“Oh, Dad,” I choked, wanting to cling to him, to beg him to come and see Mom.
When he pulled away, the pain in his eyes was almost more than I could stand.
Meira broke the hold of Dad's grief, stepping across to join me.
“Council Leader,” she said, “I am most pleased to be invited to such an historic event. I hope I can serve my people's interests well in this endeavor.”
Totally envious. Where did I go wrong?
The veil snapped shut with a final hug from Ahbi, the witchlights overhead seemingly dim compared to the bright glow of the Demonicon sky.
Meira squeezed my hand before hugging Mom as the gathered witches, vampires, Sidhe and sorcerers all broke and started to dissipate, the show over for the night. There was no sign of Pannera Sthol, but I honestly never expected the thralled vampire queen to show.
As for Europe and Margaret... we'd see.
Amid whispering excitement Ruler himself came to wish the conclave well, and speculation about the Sidhe and vampires, Mom, Meira and I took a moment to connect.
Thank you both for being the most amazing daughters a mother could ever ask for. Mom's hand tightened in mine, and I had no doubt she squeezed Meira's as much with the other. We face a monumental task, but I have no doubt the Hayle family women are more than up to the job.
I snorted mentally. Worked out so far.
Meira's white teeth flashed against her red skin. I'm totally in.
Our moment didn't last. They never did. Not with Mom's eager witches clamoring for her attention, for Meira's entourage looking for their pavilion. How she'd found so many powerful demons—and yes, I could feel their power, not a one under Seventh Plane among them—with effigies here I had no idea. But it was nice to see Demonicon well represented.
I drifted for my pavilion, pleased to note I was now being ignored as bigger and shinier distractions now abounded. Hell, I was dazzled by the gorgeous figures the Sidhe cut, the echoing boom of demon laughter, the rumble underground as the Unseelie made themselves at home. So much easier to duck my head and just be one of the masses.
I took the opportunity to reach out to Galleytrot as I felt him exit the wards surrounding the Gate, the power surge dormant now the Fey had arrived.
Everything good? I stumbled over a small depression in the already-worn path between pavilions.
Syd. Galleytrot's voice took on an edge of panic. A giant, man-eating snail has broken free from an evil scientist's lair and is rampaging through Wilding Springs. Right. Now.
Smartass hound. I laughed despite my flare of irritation.
I promise you, he sent, the image of him sitting in my back yard, tongue lolling out in a doggy grin, if anything happens, I won't hesitate. You'll know the second I do.
I know, I sent. Thank you, Galleytrot. I'm just...
I do understand, he sent. And you have cause to worry. So I'll let you have this one slip-up.
Just save me some snail, I sent. I hear they are great with butter and garlic.
He barked a laugh, the boom of thunder in his touch, gone when he cut me off.
Grateful he didn’t bring up Liam for once, I ducked inside the pavilion, still grinning.
Only to be accosted by a swirling ball of power.
***
Chapter Seventeen
Shenka rushed toward me as the wild magicks threw themselves into a frenzy of fluttering, battering me with their power.
“What do they want?” She was calm, at least, though the faces of the other witches, from various covens, now gathered in the large center common room weren't quite so composed.
“I don't know.” I gritted my teeth against the constant pecking of the magicks and threw out a soft net of my o
wn power. They stilled immediately, coming to heel almost like trained creatures, though they didn't calm so much as focus.
Again with the images, the shattering crystals, the broken machine. Belaisle, me, and the darkness. I clung to them, my power teasing out more information. The mirror again, cracking in the center, shattering into a multitude of shards.
Why did that image tweak a memory?
But which memory?
The wild magicks shrieked and fled so suddenly I staggered, realizing as they disappeared through the canopy of the pavilion it wasn't they who screamed.
The sound instead came from outside. Shenka and I both ran to see who was torturing a cat, and why, skidding to a halt with the growing crowd of onlookers as a pair of Enforcers man-handled a small bundle.
The bundle was doing the screeching. And when they finally jerked her to standing, her hood tossed back from her face and I groaned in a gut-punch moment.
Mia's caterwauling cut off abruptly as she spotted me.
“Tell them to let me go,” she said, suddenly pompous. “I am a coven leader and have every right to be here.”
Syd, Shenka sent. Don't.
Sigh.
Someone pushed past me, shoving so hard I staggered into a witch in front of me. My temper boiled as Jean Marc Dumont glanced over his shoulder, a smirk pulling his lips, dark brows shadowing his eyes. Fingers traced my cheek as his younger brother, Kristophe, drifted along in his wake. He tossed his long, pale hair, striding along as though on a catwalk as their father, Andre, glared at me on the way by.
I wasn't his target. Not by a long shot.
“I demand this creature be ejected from conclave.” Andre crossed his arms over his chest, aristocratic features pinched with disgust. The entire Dumont family shared the same brilliant blue eyes—all, oddly, but for Andre's sons and Quaid—so when coven leader glared at coven leader, icy matching gazes could have set fire to the place.
“You have no right to kick me out.” Mia jerked her arms free of the Enforcers. “I am a duly recognized coven leader.” She spit at Andre's feet, Jean Marc lunging for her, held back only by a glare from one of the black-robed witches standing guard. Her eyes met mine. “I have as much interest in this meeting as you do.”